#found a new fictional character to project onto

[poemsonmars]

you have been cursed

for as long as you know;

somedays it feels like

it is the only thing that you

actually do know anymore,

but that doesn't automatically

make you the monster, sweet child.

you are allowed to be good,

even if you have to fight for it;

especially if you have to fight.

you do not have to choose

this narrative of martyrdom

just because it is

the only one that you know.

you are allowed to be good.

you do not have to die for it.

-mars

[writingwithcolor]

Wouldn’t my writing be worse off if I forced in elements like diversity?

If you are asking this question, you have yet to challenge the “default” of your culture’s media. Consider that the majority of modern Western media fill their casts with white men, and when there are women or POC, they stick out conspicuously. Many people view adding diversity as tweaking some white man characters by toggling race or gender. But this assumes that “white man” is some default, standard character template.

If you feel pressured to include diversity in your writing, distance yourself from this pressure and ask yourself why you feel it. If you feel attacked when seeing campaigns for more diversity or criticism of all-white, uninclusive media, sit with the discomfort and ask yourself why those who are different from you say they need diverse media.

These are people whose voices and faces are rarely visible in entertainment. Despite this, they enjoy an adventure as much as anyone, and have become accustomed to projecting onto white characters. Yet, when the reverse is asked of white audiences to acknowledge protagonists of color, it becomes a difficult ask. These character choices are immediately questioned, discredited, fought against, and accused of being “woke” or “unrelatable.”

This resistance reflects a larger issue: the imbalance between audiences’ empathy towards the majority/“default” and empathy towards those perceived as Other.

By mostly reading about white people, they become easier to relate to. By the same token, if we are not reading media and histories from the perspective of POC, we end up with more people who literally fail to relate to POC. When we talk about hope-deficits, increased alienation and lower self-worth among marginalized populations, underrepresentation in media is a big factor. Imagine for a moment: never the beautiful princess in the tower, never the badass hero riding dragons; always the two-second sidekick.

People of color are people and want to be seen and treated as such. Not as a burden to devote your time to, but people who have a place in the world, fictional or no. Really, writing a world in your story that is all or mostly white is more unrealistic, more forced—after all, there are far more non-white people on Earth. Becoming comfortable with diversity requires unlearning White as the Default and POC as the Other. It takes setting aside feelings of pressure to emphasize, open your heart and listen.

Further Reading:

“Diversity has gone too far!”

Diversity is for everyone.

Children and the Myth of Colorblind Youth

Those who read about aliens learn to emphasize with aliens. Those who read about wizards empathize with wizards.

---

This Q&A is an excerpt from our General FAQ for Newcomers, which can be found in our new Masterpost of rules and FAQs. If you liked this post, we have more recommended reading there!

-Writing With Color

[needle-thread-thimble-spear]

I find the cultural phenomena of the maid as opposed to its direct descendant (the generalized domestic laborer) to be really interesting, particularly in the transfeminine sphere. This post is gonna be kinda rambly and not have much a point and involve discussion of kink topics, abusive relationships, transmisogyny, colonial violence and its consequences, etc so heads up for that but anyway.

Starting with the regency/early victorian era Europe, there's this gradual development of a complex household structure among the upper classes, which caps out in the late victorian/edwardian era. This environment forges the "prototypical" idea we have of the maid, whom you'll see in period pieces and historical fiction. She might have worn a (modest!) black and white outfit, she might not have. If her employer is relatively poor she may supply her own clothes. Regardless though, she's a servant for someone wealthy enough to keep her on. Her employer might have inherited their wealth, or found success in a relatively new and burgeoning capitalism, but they were definitely a member of one of the upper classes. She might come from a working class family, or depending on her role, from the petty bourgeois/lesser nobility (it wasn't uncommon for a young lady to have a "companion", often poorer relative with no prospects of her own). It's interesting (though in hindsight not particularly surprising) how the space from where some women might become maids, wasn't very far away from the space where a family might keep on 1-3 people on staff (if you'd like to read more on this, Emily Post's original etiquette, written in 1922 is available for free on Project Gutenberg. Its a really interesting text, here's a summary of the maid section I wrote).

Anyway. Its around the height of this period that the "french maid" is codified. Apparently (my research on this isn't the most extensive I'll freely admit) it wasn't uncommon then for the english upper classes to hire maids from France. Wealthy men became quickly fascinated with them, and before long the french maid is a staple in the erotic material of the age. My understanding is that this is how the black-and-white stereotypical maid dress entered the public consciousness, since that was common at the time (indeed, other time periods and places had different standards for uniforms!) and is what the french maid in life would have worn.

After the world wars, the social landscape of wealthy people changed, the concept of the "middle class" crystalized, and a number of household appliances changed the nature of housework quite drastically. Most of the families that would have been considered middle class a few generations earlier stopped keeping on a "maid of all things". Very wealthy households would hire fewer members of staff, or simply stop hiring a permanent staff altogether. From then on, it would be the role of the housewife to do the domestic labor, or otherwise one keeps on a cleaner or a cleaning service who comes around every once a while. Eventually we enter the modern understanding of domestic labor, where live-in servants are rare and when they do exist they are often supplemented by cleaning services with no allegiance to any one household.

Meanwhile, the french maid continues along as a stock character, not just in explicitly erotic material but comedies and even historical/speculative fiction (and thus quite removed from her possibly more apt "prototypical" counterpart, see most anime/manga maids and "butlers"). At this point she may or may not bother with being french, and she may or may not bother with any domestic labor. The maid outfit (later costume) ends up as a stereotypical, almost trite set of clothing for sexual roleplay. It's in this environment that some early culture of "sissy" or "forcefem" kink latched onto the french maid. Since that avenue of kink focuses on feminization as humiliation, the positioning of the sub as a domestic servant for the (petty) nobility (which to be frank, is a pretty humiliating role all on its own, speaking from experience) dovetails into the whole shtick quite neatly.

Others more clever (and more concise...) than I am have written about how what makes forcefem hot is the transmisogyny. The transfemme is set up to hate herself, to self destruct, to feel shame and self-disgust, to feel terrified of herself, for what she is. I'm not gonna bother spelling out the connection here. A lot of transfemmes (even if they are terrified of it and try to avoid it like I did) find their way into that space pretransition. Or if they don't, they certainly become aware of it after they begin! And then we get all this response within our own culture. We reclaim "forcefem" as a term, maids become a common motif in the form of dolls in empty spaces type literature, but that undercurrent of internalized misogyny and shame still sits there I think. Don't mistake me, this isn't some sort of sex negative tirade against maidkink (that'd be a hypocrisy anyhow!) Rather I'd like to make the argument that we're frequently reclaiming something traumatic through it, even if we don't quite realize it. As transfemmes we often self efface when it comes to (trans)misogyny I think. It's easy for us to say we had an easy ride or that it wasn't so bad. But even so, ask yourself, would you be interested in maids so much if you weren't really badly hurt?

I want to end this going back to domestic labor. It has hardly been my career to this point. In fact, I've only spent a few months of my life as a housecleaner, several years ago before I transitioned. Those also happened to be some of the most grueling and torturous months of my life. A lot went wrong that summer. The work was physically demanding and the hours were long. It was one of my first experiences really working and I felt very loyal to my boss, whom I had a tangential personal relationship toward. I was alright at the work but I did it slowly, putting me behind my quotas. But the worst of it was the cementing of the unhealthy relationship I had with my ex into an abusive one. I won't bore you with the details, and beside they're torturous to relive. I'm afraid you'll have to take my word for it, I don't think I've felt so much shame and fear so intensely and for so long a duration since then. A screening of Silence of the Lambs was involved. What we've been through, what we've been subjected to, frequently leaves us pliable doormats, eager to please and easily abused. Many are eager to use us for that, and few things can feel so good as kind words from an abuser. If you're like me, maids are a lot about those feelings. The (trans)misogyny we undergo is a real phenomena. Maids for me is an acknowledgement of that.

Post Script: I think it's important to acknowledge how the history of domestic labor has been shaped by racial violence as well as (trans)misogynistic violence. In the United States, the prototypical maid could be white or black to suite the tastes of the employer. In northern culture, the maid was generally whiter than snow, because she was presumed to be better than her counterparts, thought to be less likely to steal and better mannered. That's what made the northern lady comfortable. In the south, the maid (who was often, maybe almost always black I'll have to do more research) was either enslaved or had ancestors who had been recently. Domestic staff being black was part of the mechanism of settler colonialism in the south. The southern lady was more comfortable seeing black women explicitly beneath her, so they were maids. I say was, but these attitudes persist, in one form or another, across the US today and influence who works where. In the modern domestic labor field, a lot of the workers are immigrants. When I did work cleaning houses, I met a lot of people from the Caribbean or Latin America. Remember when I said before that live in maids are rare, and often supported by outside cleaners? One of the women I met doing that job was a live in maid from the Caribbean (I wish I remember where but I'm afraid I don't. I was going through a lot at the time my memory of it all is difficult to access in good circumstances) who was responsible for cooking and laundry. We came in to do wetwork and dusting/vacuuming. That family had more money than grains of sand, and they weren't even so rich tbqh. At my agency, we'd usually get a temp staff from Eastern Europe to do the work but they were unavailable at the time due to the pandemic, so Americans were hired instead. It should be little surprise that a settler colonial state will oft assign the women of its (oft imported) underclasses to do any sort of difficult manual labor (particularly the kind that happens behind the scenes!). The institutions of sex, which disadvantage women (and trans women still further), are but one avenue of hierarchical social violence and these intersect with one another tightly.

Hope you enjoyed reading this ramble, and that you found it illuminating!

EDIT: removed a poorly constructed sentence that doesn't read well and utilizes figurative language in a place that should be more clear

[youandmedead]

RåñÐðm ÌÐïå §hrðµÐ HêåТåñðñ§

Warnings: Brief mentions of self harm towards the last few points

Notes: Random things I think about Idia's character. (Apologies for this seeming short and sloppy, I've been trying to push myself to release content whilst working on my bigger fanfic).

⛥I feel like Idia would be very shaky due to anxiety, too much caffeine intake and low iron levels

⛥He definitely has some form of Vitamin D deficiency pairing with low iron levels (am I projecting? Possibly.)

⛥Has a plush that he was given as a kid, that always seems to bring him some form of comfort - especially during his toughest days and times when his anxiety becomes too overwhelming

⛥ I feel that he is into a slight bit of heavy music but not too much. I think he'd despise black and death metal alongside deathcore, but I feel like he'd enjoy metalcore and nu-metal

⛥ Is super good at drawing and enjoys studying people as he gets inspired by their characteristics or clothing. I also feel that he does a lot of cat sketches - mainly ones of professor Trein's cat, strays he's found whenever he's being dragged outside or ones he's seen online - in addition to gadgets he's planning on building (e.g upgrades for ortho, a new machine for X, Y, Z)

⛥ He hates when people yell at him. Whenever they do he'll tend to freeze up and disassociate or flinch and repeat "I'm sorry" over and over again

⛥ (This is most likely a given but...) Absolutely horrendous with social cues that is if you managed to get him to socialise at all.

⛥ Yearns for a partner - He daydreams about it sometimes (nowhere as near as much as romance scenarios with fictional characters mind you) and always makes himself miserable afterwards, because he feels as if it'd be impossible for anybody to ever fall in love with him.

⛥ Envious of people he thinks "has the perfect life". Those who he believes do have a perfect life, he automatically assumes they're entitled and selfish who don't deserve to have the things they have.

⛥ Gets grossed out easily at horror movies, but is fascinated in the SFX effects and production processes

⛥ His criticisms always cut straight to the core, there's no sugar coating it when it comes to him (unless he is completely head over heels for said person asking for constructive criticism)

⛥ Ortho has forced him to set alarms on his phone for when it's time for him to rehydrate with water as he tends to get so hyper focused on a new game, book or gadget.

⛥ Idia frequently has vivid nightmares and because they can be so intense for him, once he's awake he can not fall back asleep. Usually when this happens he'll busy himself with a game or through drawing

⛥ Has an interest in poetry. I don't think he'd write any but I feel like he'd have a deep appreciation for the art form.

⛥ Has bitten his tongue, the inside of his cheek and/or his bottom lip far too many times due to his sharpened teeth

⛥ Adding onto the point made above, I think he'd have a habit of chewing the inside of his cheek until it bled or picking at the skin on his hands until they also bled. Due to this, I think he'd paint his nails and peel off the polish to help deter him from causing harm to himself.

[yourfandomfriend]

La Vie en Rouge || IwtV Meta

I've really been getting into the second season of Interview with the Vampire. The first season was great, but there's just something about season two employing one of my favorite devices:

Paranoia!

Not only can fictional characters say one thing and do another, (something that never fails to baffle audiences) but once you establish that the audience is being deceived, they start to question everything...

Well, not everything.

** SPOILERS** for Interview with the Vampire, Season 2 **SPOILERS**

Theater of Lovers

So… extra disclaimer: while I've been a fan of the Vampire Chronicles since I started reading the books in the mid-90s (yes, I'm very old) I'm not what you'd call "down bad" for the shallow idea of godlike killers whose every move is too beautiful for words. Like Daniel, I have issues with abusive, predatory assholes having such good PR.

One of the other things I always found hard to swallow was the way everyone in the books embodied roleplay personas.

I almost always see some of this whenever fiction turns erotic: characters don't just roleplay in the bedroom, or even try to play that role in real life. They are their role. The guy who is dominant in the sack is dominant to the bone, every minute of every day. Not because he wants to be, or even because his partner wants it, but because someone else is watching.

Feels kinda like it's all to get us off. That the characters aren't abstractions of people, they aren't attracted to each other or have itches that need scratching. The story is just an excuse for kinky scenarios, so go ahead and beat off because it's all just porn.

And if that's true, then you don't want to ever scratch the surface and find out the cliches you project onto are more complex than you thought. That would kill your boner.

But I feel like most of us have far more... sophisticated boners. Porn is dandy for being porn and not much else, but a romantic story isn't interesting for me unless the characters feel like people. And you know what? People have their own fantasies, ones that have nothing to do with me. They like to be someone else sometimes. They like to pretend, to play.

So I've really enjoyed this departure from the source material with Louis and Armand's relationship. Not only do they enjoy roleplay, but it also isn't because they are those roles -- a strong, dominant master and a weak, submissive minion -- but because there's something in each's bottle that desperately needs uncorking.

Series!Louis didn't have the luxury of being himself in his mortal life, and so only let himself be completely vulnerable for the first time with his maker, his first love… and got broken for his trouble.

And his brother, Paul, walked off a roof after Louis said "I love you." So it makes sense that part of his fantasy with Armand is, "You can't hurt me."

Meanwhile, Armand's only truly happy memories were of worshipping his maker. Since then, he's been saddled with the insufferable duty of keeping the Paris coven jackals in line, something he feels he can't abandon (for reasons that aren't obvious).

But Armand doesn't have the emotional strength to endure the relentless isolation of tuning up that clown car for eternity so it's only natural that he'd seek to occasionally regress to a happier time, if only in the privacy of an intimate relationship.

The trouble here isn't with roleplay, but with the way Louis and Armand insist that their play is reality. Their costumes are their own clothes, they swear, and their lines are their own words.

But we've seen this version of Louis before. He explains from the jump, right when we begin the new interview, that he plays tough because he knows what happens to the weak. Armand, though, is a bit more of an unfolding mystery.

The Glass Cannon

So... anyone else get the impression that this show wants us to feel, at least subconsciously, that despite everything, Armand is a delicate rose amongst the dickweeds? No matter how many scenes of his treachery and ruthlessness pile up? Because it quietly builds a case across seasons one and two.

From the moment they met, Louis could sense Armand's ancient power. The power to squish him like a bug with a thought. And that could very well have been the way it ended for Louis.

When Armand warned Louis not to anger the coven, Louis assumed he was being threatened and humbly capitulated, calling him "Maître." But was corrected. "It's 'Armand' for you."

Armand's job at this point was to bring Louis into the fold, by force if necessary, or else eliminate him, but still allowed him to refuse, over and over. Even though he had Cladia as leverage, even though he could drive Louis into the ground like a tent peg. Even though the coven grew furious. Armand still followed him around. Courting a fly that it was his job to swat.

Later, as Louis continues to be haunted by the ghost of his maker, he tries to take a picture of Lestat. When he developed it, though, there was just an empty space where Lestat had seemed to stand. An empty space... But not an empty frame.

Later, Louis is showing his photos to a gallerist who singles out the Ghost Lestat portrait, seeing only Armand -- alone, out of focus, pushed to the edge of the frame by a subject who wasn't there -- and sees the secret truth of his soul. His fragility. But Louis insists he knows Armand and he's "anything but."

Against the wishes of the coven, Armand spared Louis' life, asking why "those with the most power are often the weakest?"

When Armand tells his backstory to Louis -- the slavery and abuse he endured as Arun, his maker loving him but whoring him out to his friends as Amadeo, and now the unwanted duty and power of ruling the Paris coven as Armand -- and he asks Louis, "who am I?"

Eventually, Louis answers him: "Arun." Is that the real answer? We don't know, but it's the most convenient answer. For Louis.

So Louis plays the aloof master and Armand plays the affectionate lapdog. All the while, it seems, Armand is scheming and manipulating in the background.

In the present, he insists that's not the case, that his role in "what happened in Paris" was a single act of cowardice, rather than him pulling the strings behind it all, and everything else was done on Louis' behalf.

But the audience has already caught him in three huge lies.

As I write these words, it's the Thursday before season two's penultimate episode. And I wonder, are those the only two choices before us? Trust Armand completely -- trust that he is ultimately good and loving and blameless -- or assume he's evil and lying about everything?

Are Good and Evil our only choices? Or is what is done for love something beyond both?

Under The Burning Sky

Another great change to the source material is Old!Daniel. Allowed to live out his life in the wake of a savage brush with death, "The Boy" from the first interview matures into a journalist in his seventies, wise and cynical, sore at being taken advantage of, embarrassed by the foolishness of his past, and uniquely able to deconstruct Louis' bullshit and call out plot holes, many that only exist due to the massive retcon between books one and two.

Some people assume he's there to mock the source material, and thus the people who love it, rather than to demonstrate character by provoking two (canonically) defensive liars into giving a more truthful interview, and admitting that there's not only trouble in paradise but that it might've become a parking lot in the interim.

The source material takes itself seriously, but that doesn't even last until the second book when Lestat takes the mic away and calls bullshit on everything that came before. So why can't Daniel flip this rock over early for our amusement without it being an insult to the Chronicles and their fans?

PS, I know a lot of people are pining for "Devil's Minion," the story of Armand becoming casually obsessed with young Daniel after Louis let him live, hunting him around the world, and the whole thing working out to them being in a relationship. And they've even made some compelling theories for Old!Daniel's memories of his ex-lover "Alice" actually being an altered memory of Armand.

But I don't know how to feel about that.

I guess it would be cool... A big reveal about Daniel's past, adding to the themes of the season, and a pairing that's true to canon while still being unexpected. But as much as I love Young!Daniel, as endearing as he is, I honestly prefer him as the backstory -- the dlc -- of the far more interesting character that is Old!Daniel.

And if there was going to be a meaningful relationship between them, Young!Daniel would be the status quo. We've been here before.

I would especially prefer to see how aging into a mature, strong-willed, paranoid crank who's seen it all and isn't mystified by the world of vampires would alter his dynamic with the chronically underhanded, theatrical, high-strung, (secretly fragile) Armand.

Thus, the only Daniel/Armand ship reveal I will accept is the "Hello, Again" fight from the end of Saving Silverman…

[yourpenpaldee]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ A BRIEF WIPS OVERVIEW.

Hello! I am not good with deadlines, especially when I set them myself. This post was supposed to be up three days ago, but it’s finally here! I’m very excited to share these projects as they were all created from different periods of my life, going back four years at the most.

These will be very short intros, but each WIP mentioned here will have a proper, detailed post when it’s time. The projects also aren’t listed in sequential order of when I’ll post about them with the exception of the first WIP.

A heads-up, most of these are romance since I used to write only romance. It was only about two years ago since I decided to finally branch out, and those stories will be coming soon! For now, I still have to figure out how to write characters that have a way higher IQ than I do…

On we go to the WIPs!

WHEN ART TALKS

— currently undergoing the first draft. — first person — a college romance where a reserved poet who is afraid of public perception connects with an outspoken musician due to their preference on using words as their art medium. — contains late night walk convos, cigarette smoking, passionate rambles, and microwaved meals. — “‘Why do we care about them when it’s our story to tell? We live our truth, we speak our truth, and we have to trust that it’s good enough because it’s all we got. The message will be received by those who are meant to hear it.’”

BLIND SECOND CHANCES

— currently undergoing the first draft. — dual first person — an adult romance in which ex-friends turned (unofficial) ex-lovers from high school decide to explore the old feelings that resurface when crossing paths eight years later. — lots of reminiscing, betrayal, weekly wine nights, and fancy dates. — “‘You’re holding onto a love from a situation where we didn’t even know our place in the world yet. We spent nearly eight years growing into the people we are now, so you need to be prepared for our dynamic to look and feel different because we aren’t the same kids we once were.’”

TO NEW BEGINNINGS

— brainstorming complete, drafting to begin soon. — third person, still deciding on the type — an adult romance story of a woman who decides it’s time to start over on a blank canvas, and meets a booked and busy workaholic along the way. — roller skating, painting, solo adventures, and plant shopping. — “‘It’s scary to deviate from your current life and start anew when your life no longer serves you or your purpose. But I’m not equipped for misery, so I’ll be damned trying to save a life that lost the chance of saving forever ago.’”

UNTITLED ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE

— currently a 3am one-liner, brainstorming begins soon — pov to be determined, leaning towards third person limited. — an apocalyptic fiction where a teenage girl fights everyday to survive in an ongoing zombie apocalypse with hopes of finding her younger sister. — found family, zombie slaying, survival vs. morality, and, uh… death. — “She looked at every colorless home she walked by and wondered what stories could be told. What every stored memory that slipped through the cracks consisted of and the emotions they’d provoke. If the lives that once occupied these spaces were unfortunately fortunate enough to make it out like she did. If they constantly watched the memories flash before their eyes as they realized those would be the last batch of joyful, painless memories; how remembering became torturous and insufferable, but is all they have to remind them of their own humanity.”

UNTITLED TWISTED BONNIE & CLYDE

— currently a 3am one-liner, brainstorming begins soon — first person peripheral or third person limited — a dark and twisted romance where two toxic lovers are at the beginning of an inevitable end and play fire with fire the entire way through. — manipulation, heists, lies, and expensive jewelry. — “The venom drips off of every word she says. She watches every last drop seep into my skin and become one with the blood that runs through my veins. How it attempts to shut down my body in hopes that I’ll beg for mercy in my final moments of weakness. That I’ll surrender my life into her hands as those soulless and apathetic eyes beam with some sick and twisted excitement. But I am sick and twisted too. We are two bodies wrapped in the same snake skin, and a snake cannot get poisoned by its own venom.”

PAST LIFE LOVER

— redoing the brainstorm process — first person or objective third person (quote will be in third person) — a soulmate, young adult romance in which a girl who no longer believes in love suddenly gets pulled in by the new barista at her favorite hangout spot. — love at first sight, breakfast deliveries, denial, and baking. lots of baking. — “Then there it was. The locking of the eyes where the inability to look away grows more and more intense with each passing second. They didn’t even know each other, but something in their eyes told them that there was a home waiting for them within each other’s souls.”

ANGEL AND KEN*

— currently on the backburner, brainstorming resumes once past life lover is complete. — prequel to past life lover. — *very much a temporary title — first person or objective third person — a 50’s historical romance where a pessimistic single mother is convinced to see the greener side of the grass by a jazz musician who looks at life through a rose-colored lens. — jazz clubs, slow dancing, tea parties, and red corvettes — “‘Why shut yourself out from the world when there are people like me that have waited for you to waltz right into their life? I know, the modern day world is frightening and filled with so much hatred that it’s hard to find happiness through it all. But people find a purpose to wake up every morning because of that one person that casts the brightest light. You’re my sun in a world full of darkness, and I hope to be the moon that reflects your light when you’re no longer visible in the sky.’”

I know I keep saying it, but I truly can’t wait to properly share these projects. I just hope everyone will enjoy reading it all and find comfort within these characters :)

I will post the the detailed summary for When Art Talks either on Monday or Tuesday (please yell at me if i don’t follow through omg), and the character intros should follow closely behind!

divider creds to strangergraphics ♡

[bogleech]

I tend to just assume all my artwork, little fiction projects, comics, flash animations and other created work is just old news to anyone even passingly familiar with me but....I get the feeling very few of you know more than 1% of it as I look over the folder where I keep what’s probably less than half of all I’ve held onto.

This folder doesn’t include ANY of Mortasheen or Awful Hospital, each of which are another several thousand files themselves. I’m thinking of sorting a bunch of this other stuff into various zip files I could share on my patreon with accompanying notes, explanations and sketches wherever applicable, maybe also include the raw digital art files? I’ll probably still have to leave out some things that are just too boring and stupid, or really personal commissions/gift art, but there’s still gotta be a thousand things I could share. Here’s some random miscellaneous thingies:

For a while I was illustrating various mythological vampires, ghouls and other undead for a book collab with C.M. Kosemen (All Tomorrows, etc.) that fell to the wayside when he had to work on a much bigger project.

Another book project that didn’t get off the ground was going to be a cartoony look at truly obscure real world animal groups, like this Aspidosiphon. This was going to be a collab with biologist Ross Piper after his book Animal Earth, but didn’t really go past the “floating ideas around” stage and some sample art.

I illustrated a couple dozen enemies for the game “Crystal Catacombs,” in some cases influencing the final in-game designs. Had a lot of fun doing this, though the game never sold enough to get many royalties.

I started but unfortunately never completed a visual novel style game a few years back that was another Silent Hill homage, told from the perspective of a monster manifested entirely to torment a single human. Multiple characters/creatures exist as these very quick low-resolution doodles and a ton of story notes.

I illustrated creature cards for a board game, Chimera Island, where you mixed and matched different heads, bodies and tails then basically argued a case for what would make a given creature successful in the randomized ecosystem. Friends and I played an early copy of this game once and found it really really fun, but then the creator totally rehashed the mechanics after some other group’s mixed feedback, we found the new version extremely difficult to figure out, and I think the whole project got scrapped or it released to poor reception, I can’t remember, and I don’t even know what happened to that single fun prototype :[

There’s other unfinished or half-finished projects, and there’s just hundreds and hundreds of miscellaneous things that serve no purpose. There’s also tons locked up in Adobe Flash files from when I used that as my drawing software, but I no longer have any cracked software that can open those. There’s assets for multiple whole platformer games, for instance, that uh...were also commissions by people who gave up or moved on to other projects before any of it saw the light of day. At least I still got most of the pay, when pay was actually promised (I was a bit trusting)

[pureamericanism]

It's an almost banal truism that classic science fiction was largely a projection of the Frontier Experience - and, more broadly, the whole world-shaking events of the European Age of Discovery - onto an imagined outer space. Less frequently remarked is that the reverse is also true.

I grew up devouring Golden Age science fiction novels, and was a fervent believer in Mankind's Destiny Among The Stars. Well, the Space Age - like all the great dreams of thr 20th century - has turned out to be something of a damp squib, but I still want stories of fantastic voyages of exploration, adventure, science, discovery, and intrigue in a vast new world of far-flung outposts separated by titanic distances. So to scratch that itch, why not just...go back to the source?

If you want something like a story about an isolated asteroid mining colony, you can just read the memoirs of a surgeon at a Hudson Bay Company outpost! Why bother with Heinlein when you can just read the diaries of pioneer women, the tales of Yankee filibusters in Latin America, the authentic exploits of desert-island buccaneers, or the early adventures of the Portugese in the Indian Ocean? Do you want fraught tales of inteigue and war and high politics that extend to the farthest reaches of known space? A good book on any of the big 18th century wars for empire will satisfy. And can Star Trek remotely compare in imagination and excitement to the voyages of Cook and La Pérouse? "Strange new worlds, new life, and new civilizations?" Boy howdy, we got 'em! If you look at these things with fresh eyes, with the eyes of a science fiction fan rather than those of someone with access to an infinitide of pictures of them online, nothing could be more surprising than a dugong, a platypus, a redwood, a southern continent of solid ice.

All of this is really just an overly long preamble to my main point, though. Which is that I believe the story of Hernán Cortés, Montezuma, and the Conquest of Mexico to be possibly the greatest one ever told. The themes...bro, the themes! There is here a richness, a complexity and depth surpassing almost anything I can think of in legend or literature.

It is, of course, a science fictional First Contact story, in which two shockingly different civilizations who know nothing of each other suddenly find themselves facing each other down. And indeed, like any good First Contact story, one of the principal characters, La Malinche, is an interpreter! See how the resulting clash of civilizations eludes simple stereotyping - sure, it's easy to see the Spaniards as brash young interlopers into the sophisticated and urbane world of the Aztecs, whose capital was perhaps as much as an order of magnitude more populous than any city in Spain. But equally it is possible to see the Aztecs as provincials, isolated from a wider, older world that suddenly irrupts into their narrow one. Consider that Cortés supposedly got practical advice on political machinations and military strategy by - studying Caesar! Access to ancient wisdom penned by dead hands in far-off lands provides material aid to him.

Then there are the religious themes. It can be seen as a story about the triumph of Christianity, of the Church Triumphant, but what does it mean for a religion founded by a suffering martyr to become militarily triumphant? And what does it mean for thr religion of a suffering martyr to become triumphant over a religion of human sacrifice to the gods? This is a complex and multi-layered irony that spares no one. And consider the strange foreshadowing of the legend of Quetzelcoatl returning from over the sea. Shades of Frank Herbert, here, even (especially?) if the tale is a post-conquest invrntion.

And the role of technology in the tale. Yes, the steel and shot, the horses and hounds, the ships and sails were all powerful allies for the Spaniards, but these would not have sufficed without the smallpox virus - a reversal of Wells that still underlines the power of biology and of the very small even in the face of all our mastery over the brute world. But the conquest also would not have been possible without the alliance with the Tlaxcala and other local rivals and adversaries of the Aztecs. There are very pointed lessons in the social, political, and diplomatic sciences being demonstrated here. Some are obvious, and others very subtle - look at the ways these differing civilizations reacted under the extreme stress of this brutal war to see what I mean about the subtle ones.

I could go on, I could mention the strange aesthetic touches, such as the similarity in climates between the Valley of Mexico and inland Spain, and the parallels between Spain's role to Rome and Mexico's to Spain; or I could talk about the fascinatingly ambiguous characters of all the major players in this story, and the surprising arcs they go through; but not only am I already going on rather long, but I fear I may be making too light of what were, after all, real events, real events that resulted in piles of corpses, and whose tremendous human consequences are still felt deeply by tens of millions of people.

But I stand by my statement that it is one of the richest, profoundest stories I know of. The gods may be cruel, monstrously cruel, but they are artists, too.

[astro-eats]

Gangle might be getting silly chat (tw, body issues)

Me: hm! I want to vent because today was a new experience! Oh wait I don't want to talk about myself, ima project my own problems onto a fictional character who has enough problems already! <3

Also, in this lets just say the characters can shower and eat a lot and throw up cuz its won't be accurate if not <3 also this is lazily written so I might do this for characters talking// Character name: "Words blah blah blah." Also there is abstragedy after the vent part

321 go

Gangle and the rest of the cast were celebrating! Bubble cooked a great feast (... "Great") and everyone was sat at the table, eating. Gangle put the food into her mouth. She started feeling a little sick. Just a little. But she kept eating. What a stupid decision. She kept eating, then the sick feeling in her stomach grew stronger. She needed to stop eating. But she felt like she had eaten so much already. She'd eaten so much. She ate. A lot.

...

She kept eating. She couldn't stop now. She kept eating. She didn't even want to with most of the things. She felt sick. She felt horrible. She hated herself. She hates herself. She hates he

Oh! Everyones going to the digital lake now.

Gangle feels horrible, but goes with everyone. She momentarily forgets about this whole eating stuff and tries having fun. Which she does. (But who cares about fun, we need angst.)

After all that, she grabs a drink and goes to her room. She walks into her bathroom and locks the door. Gangle stares at herself in the mirror. She feels horrible about herself. She chugs the drink, knowing its sugar contents and that it's gonna make her more sick.

With that "preparation", she goes into the shower and runs the water over herself.

...

She depends onto her knees and leans over the shower drain. She then shoves her ribbon hand down her throat and gently touches the back of her throat, causing her to gag.

Am I actually doing this..?

She does it again, her eyes now dripping with tears. She gags again. She does it once again. Again. Again. Again. Gagging and tearing up. Finally, she throws up.

...

She throws up again. Again. Again. Again. Until she stops. She looked at the hand that was previously down her throat.

... Why do I do this to myself.

She shoves it down her throat again. This time it doesn't work and she gags. So she does it again and doesn't throw up.

Time for a break. Just a moment of staring around and feeling the water. It was nice. Especially after she just threw up. Bit she wasn't done.

She gently puts her hand in her throat again, causing her to gag. Soon enough, she throws up. She throws up again. And again. Again. Again.

...

Time to wait for a bit. Just relax. That's all she needs to do. Its all she can do. Just lay back and feel the water. The water felt nice. It felt like it was washing away the pain. For just a moment. But it wasn't. The second she was out of that shower, it was gonna be bad again. It always is.

Gangle found herself leaned over the floor of the shower. She tried to throw up, but it didn't work well. It didn't work at all. She shoved her ribbon Albans into her throat multiple times, frustration building at the fact it wasn't working. She finally managed to throw up the last of her stomachs contents. She kept forcing herself to do that until there was nothing.

She instantly got up and rinsed herself and her mouth off.

Why can't I just be ok. There's always something. Always. I can't have a break. I can't have... Anything.

...

Gangle was now laying on her bed. How pathetic. She felt so empty. And the empty feeling in her stomach didn't help at all. She was emotional and frustrated and depressed. And hungry.

...

A/N: after this author note, everything said has not happened to me and is more just Gangle angst and maybe abstragedy

...

Soon enough, the inevitable happened. Someone knocked.

Gangle: "Who is it..?" She spoke in a sad tone. Her voice made it obvious she felt empty and depressed.

Zooble: "Its me. I'd you don't open up the door I'm opening it myself."

Gangle: "... Hngh... Come in then..." She rolled in her bed to face the door.

Zooble opened said door, walking in with a neutral expression. They closed the door and walked closer to her.

Zooble: "You good?"

Gangle: "Mhm..."

Zooble: "You don't look good." They looked her up and down as they walked towards the bed, sitting next to her tired body.

Gangle blinked, almost comically slowly. This raised a red flag for zooble. She was basically a depressed mess.

Zooble: "Tell me what's wrong."

Gangle: "... Nothings wrong."

Zooble: "Gangle if you don't talk to me right now I swear I'm gonna f-"

Gangle: "... You're not helping.."

Zooble: "Oh uh.. Sorry. But you need to tell me what's wrong. If you abstract I swear Gangle."

Gangle was frustrated. She wanted to just cry or be cuddled, not talk. That's not what she needed. She needed silent comfort. But it was hard to communicate that without getting frustrated at them.

Gangle: "Stop.."

Zooble: "What do you mean 'stop' Gangle?! You NEED to tell me what's wrong RIGHT now!"

Gangle looked at them for a split second, before bursting into tears. The tears rolled off her face and dripped onto the blanket. Oh the look on Zoobles face. Even without a mouth, their expression said 'I F---ed up.'

Zooble: "Uh.. I uh- what-"

Gangle muttered out pieces of sad words. Her sentences were a puzzle that the smartest person in the world couldn't put together. One word that could be made out was 'Hug'. Zooble really didn't want to. Physical affection wasn't their thing. But since they got with Gangle, they were warming up to it. So they awkwardly pulled her onto them and ran their claw across her torso.

The action was comforting. This is what Gangle needed the most. Silent comfort. Meanwhile, zooble felt awkward and slightly uncomfortable. But they're willing to put in work for her. She obviously needs it..

Zooble: "Do you want to talk now?"

Gangle: "... I.. Hate.. I- ugh..!" Frustration was obvious in her tone.

Zooble: "... Ok."

Im to lazy and obviously hungry to write the rest. Enjoy my vent turning into yuri lolll

[carica-ficus]

Review: "Gideon the Ninth"

Author: Tamsyn Muir

Date: 03/12/2023

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

________________________________________________________

I'm going to be honest, I completely forgot I had to write a review for this book, which is weird for me because, first and foremost, I love writing reviews for the books I read and, second, I love writing reviews for the books I loved. But I found myself at a stalemate with this one, mostly because I'm not sure what to say. There's a lot of things to appreciate in "Gideon the Ninth", and I'm a little intimidated by the fact I have to try and do them justice in this short text. Still, I'm going to try.

"Gideon the Ninth" follows the story of a necromancer, Harrowhark Nonagesimus, and her cavalier, Gideon Nav, as they embark on a journey to the First House where Harrow has to find a way to ascend to Lyctorhood (which is something like becoming necromancer supreme). Of course, they're not the only ones who partake in the assignment - they are joined by the representatives of the other seven houses who are there for the same goal. Harrow and Gideon are forced to find the answer, while at the same time trying to best the others at the same game. They soon find out that a lot more is at stake than they originally thought, and the tension only grows as all of them realize they are also being hunted by someone or something.

The book starts off relatively slow, with a very long introduction which spaces off into multiple chapters. A gradual beginning might not interest every reader, but it proves crucial for this story. Muir carefully constructs the basis for her novel, at first offering little insight to all the numerous characters. By choosing Gideon as her narrator for the book - a character who is genuinely confused by the setting and isn't interested in dull formalities - Muir manages to portray everything in a very laic manner. Hence, the reader learns about the world and its characters at the same pace as the lead.

Furthermore, this also allows the reader to develop a strong connection with Gideon, whose laid back, facetious personality offers a lot of room for the reader to relate to her. She presents a stark contrast to Harrow, a focused and stubborn necromancer, which Muir consequently uses to create an interesting and exciting dynamic between them. Their relationship is a perfect blend of planned versus impulsive, where Harrow will act out of intelligence, and Gideon out of curiosity or instinct.

Characters are definitely Muir's specialty, and it is evident on her writing how much time and effort she puts into them. Even though all the side characters are also necromancers accompanied by their cavaliers, every pair offers a different dynamic. Moreover, every pair comes from a different planet, so their personalities, behavior and gestures directly add onto the worldbuilding in a way which is not forced, but still informative enough. On the other hand, sometimes the characters felt a little too over the top, feeling like a projection of an archetype, rather than lifelike peple. But I digress, in this specific novel it is more of an advantage, than a drawback.

The story structure is not revolutionary, nor is the idea behind it, but it is presented in an interesting and refreshing way. Similarly, there are a few cliché moments, especially between Gideon and Harrow, but they are incredibly well written, so they don't feel lax. Instead, they offer an exciting and emotional scene which only benefits from the use of a popular trope. Muir has an astounding ability to present something that has already been seen in a new light, which gives "Gideon the Ninth" a nostalgic and familiar note, without making it too analogous to other works of fiction.

High stakes, tension, and action definitely don't lack in this book. Even though the beginning is somewhat timid, the growing build up of mystery manages to completely overthrow the initial dreariness. There's quite a few well thought-out fight scenes, layered with striking moves and exciting moments. The very end of the book features an extensive, flashy final fight that spreads out onto dozens of pages. Needless to say, it is a perfect finish for such an thrilling novel and won't leave any reader unmoved.

I had very high expectations from "Gideon the Ninth" and I must say, it didn't disappoint. What's more, this is one of my absolutely favorite books I read throughout 2023. It offers so much, from an interesting story to a riveting resolution, but its gorgeous, compelling and engaging characters are undeniably its greatest asset. I warmly recommend it to anyone looking for an unforgettable sci-fi story packed with action and peppered with good, honest humor.

[cherrybombfangirlwrites]

my writeblr (re)introduction

Hi, I'm Anna. I've been on the writeblr side of tumblr since June last year, and I figured- new year, about time for a new intro. I'll be doing new WIP and character intros as well very soon.

About the Author

20-something years old / She/Her / Aroace

A burntout gifted kid, (sorta late diagnosed) Autisic and ADHDer

my sideblog for nerdy and fangirly stuff (mainly about my ocs and fanfics about them) is @cherrybombfangirl that i'm currently trying to revive

Favorite Movies: Captain America: The Winter Soldier /// Wonder Woman (2017) /// Wonder Woman 1984 /// Lilo and Stitch /// The Amazing Spiderman 1 & 2 /// Black Widow /// Ghostbusters (the entire franchise, all of it) /// LEGO Batman /// Megamind /// Pirates of the Caribbean Trilogy (what other two movies?) /// How to Train Your Dragon Trilogy /// The Nightmare Before Christmas /// Coraline /// Boxtrolls /// Enchanted /// The Little Mermaid /// Maleficent /// Princess Bride /// The Great Mouse Detective /// Anastasia /// Ocean's 8 /// Kung Fu Panda 1 & 2 /// Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves /// Dead Poet's Society /// Puss in Boots: The Last Wish /// Rogue One: A Star Wars Story /// Nimona ///

Favorite Books: Trollhunters /// Land of Stories /// Micheal Vey /// Percy Jackson series /// How to Train Your Dragon series /// Peter and the Starcatchers /// Cry of the Icemark /// Reflection by Elizabeth Lim /// The Unwanteds /// Alex and the Ironic Gentleman /// The Hunger Games Trilogy /// Mysterious Benedict Society /// Dealing with Dragons Series /// Cry of the Icemark by Stuart Hill /// Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Xhao ///

Favorite TV Shows: Tales of Arcadia: Trollhunters /// Tales of Arcadia: Wizards /// How to Train Your Dragon: Race to the Edge /// Supergirl /// Ninjago /// The Mandalorian /// Kenobi /// Lockwood and Co. /// A Series of Unfortunate Events /// The Dragon Prince /// She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (ND Stevenson’s Reboot) ///

I like to write big casts, with lots of diversity

My characters tend to be very aro/ace coded and adhd/autism coded because I like to project onto my characters a little bit too much

been dreaming up little worlds with little characters in my head since i was little, started writing fanfic at 12, and finally started to draft out my ideas last year

I love love love fantasy and sci-fi, especially the more high stuff, but i like low/urban fantasy and sci-fi. more realistic fiction isn't really my cup of tea, if there's no fantasy or sci-fi elements it doesn't do it for me

My WIPs

Fractured Stars Falling

Intro /// Playlist My dark fantasy, 9 book series of very queer retellings. Including people of color, mentally and physically disabled, and many flavors of queer representation. Themes include trauma and how we deal with it, and tropes include magic that can kill you, chaotic found family, and 'i would kill for you' romances. And it's possibly going to have a prequel series about my thousand year old wizard who is an AuDHDer and a burntout gifted kid and how she got to where she is in the series. Tags: #wip: fractured stars falling

The City is Ours

Intro /// Playlist My low fantasy, 5 book series about a bunch of chaotic teenage superheroes. More people of color, physically and mentally disabled, Jewish and Muslim, and lots of different queer representaion . Themes include forgiveness, are you the hero of the villain, and tropes include domesticity between the action, teenagers being teenagers, and the checkov's civilian. Tags: #wip: the city is ours

Galaxy Destroyer

Intro /// Playlist Previously known as Before the Stars Burn Out, this is my high sci-fi book series about a bunch of morally gray criminals and the "i tried to kill you" to found family pipeline. Like my other wips, lots of representation, including people of color, disabilites of both the physical and mental, and different kinds of queer representation. Themes include what really defines good vs bad, what to do when the system is broken and the two solutions you are presented with suck, and tropes include space criminals accidentally adopting a baby, humans being space orcs, and cool laser gun battles in space. Not sure if it's going to be a trilogy or duology yet. Tags: #wip: galaxy destroyer, wip: before the stars burn out (for older stuff)

unnamed witchy wip

Intro (coming soon) /// playlist (coming soon) a one-eyed (and it's actually disabling) aroace witch. her two familiars, a white cat and blue crow. on the run from a cult of witch hunters that are taking control of the realm by storm. she befriends an undercover witch hunter, no knowing his identity. the witch hunter has an arc with their faith crisis and getting a redemption arc where they end up saving their new friend the witch. Themes include the abuse of religion and finding friendship (but on a very personal level), and tropes include snarky familiars, very personal stakes for the characters, and platonic soulmates. Probably going to be a standalone. Tags: #unnamed witchy wip

unnamed historical fantasy vestal virgin wip

Intro (coming soon) /// playlist (coming soon) it's a baby wip that I don't much on yet. All I know is that it's going to be about one of the vestal virgins in Ancient Rome actually making contact with Vesta (the roman version of Hestia), they become besties and end up protecting each other both from the human and mythological. Also I'm going to get dragons in there somehow. much platonic soulmates <3. Probably going to be a standalone as well. Tags: #unnamed vestal virgin wip

edit: i removed taglists from this post because there is a tag limit, i have them saved somewhere else tho!

[xbeezchaos]

POV! You’re his FP

So I’m like 200% sure I have BPD and am working on a diagnosis with my therapist right now, I do meet the criteria though. And I had an episode recently that is hard to talk about, so now I’ll project my experience with my FP into fictional characters X reader Starting with my comfort characters.

Keep in mind it may not fully seem like him usually but this is me projecting

BPDScaramouche

He knew that the way he felt was abnormal, familiar in the paranoid and obsessive thoughts that creeped up anytime you’d be near him, or even worse, away from him when he desired your presence. 

You were aware of his BPD, the two of you had a talk about it one day when he had an episode so bad he’d destroyed half his things and locked himself in his trashed bedroom for hours without responding to you. 

You’ve been roommates for about a year now, but friends for longer than that. 

Scara noticed his attachment growing, he felt a need for your approval, like if he didn’t get it he’d need to claw his eyes out from the feelings that bubbled up inside him

He became overprotective of you, he needed you to be safe, to be with him, all of your attention should be on him at every available moment you had. 

He found a high benefit in the fact that you were both single, very aware that his feelings could transform into a romantic obsession any day now. 

“You know, sometimes I get an adrenaline rush when you give me your attention? You make me feel like I’m on the best kind of drug there is, sweetheart.” He’d said this a few times to you before. You took this with caution because this usually meant he was feeling euphoric, and would likely come down from it in a few hours or days.  

Everything always went smoothly as long as he was able to spend time with you, gain praise and the attention he’d seek out from you early in the day before continuing with whatever plans he had, today was a bit odd, as he’s been acting more impulsive. 

His self image and surroundings haven't been feeling as real as they typically do, like all of it was a lie, like he was a lie, a different person in the disguise of himself. 

When the two of you were talking during lunch, you brought up having a crush on a coworker you met at your new job. After the mention of this he fell into a silence, a crush? Someone else has your attention? 

But why? If someone caught your attention, and you guys started dating, he’d be forced to back off, he could lose you, or worse, you’d leave him! You can’t leave him, he’s so good to you, he’d do anything for you, and he truly means anything he's capable of. 

“[Name], I think I’m having an episode.” He removed his hat, placing it beside him, he could feel the thoughts swarm in like a tidal wave in the middle of a rainstorm. 

You felt lost, unsure if you were the trigger  or not, before you could ask he turned to you, his blank stare turned sour, and when you tried gently touching his shoulder and hand, it was a typically soothing thing for him that you’d do to try and aid in a prevention attempt. 

Key word, attempt. 

He slapped your hand away, you watched as the rage built up and the tears welled up in his eyes. 

“What am I going to do if he likes you back? What about me? I can give you that attention you don't need anyone else for that, if you get someone else then you'll leave me and you can't leave me I need you, you should need me too!” 

He went on rambling, slamming his hands on the table and the tears began to fall as his yelling escalated. You hadn't seen him get like this before, it was a bit heartbreaking and scary. 

“Bubs, I do need you, please, you're having an episode, you don't actually think this.” You stood up trying to grab onto his shoulders. To which he pushed you away, his rambling continuing, he was now sure he wasn't having an episode and convinced himself you were going to leave

He began pacing, hitting himself and scratching at his skin in various areas, from arms to neck and ear pulling. All while ranting about what he believed was going to happen

You still had no clue what to do in all of this. So you stood on top of your chair, and waited for his pacing to circle towards you, and you jumped on him, putting down as much weight as you could. You both screamed the whole way to the floor, you scrambled to get up and pin the man to the floor.

“Bubs, I need you to listen to me, very carefully. You are having an episode. ” You had his arms pinned to the floor, so he had no choice but to look at you. 

 “I’m having an episode?” He questioned, to which you nodded. He began freaking out again, becoming self destructive with his words. Insulting himself. 

He kept trying to pull himself into a ball, to which you just laid on him. 

He cried for a while, pushing against you as you held onto him, his attempts to escape quickly became weaker than anticipated, he let out a few screams, but when all of it faded, you tried soothing him once you felt his arms wrap around you. 

“I’m so sorry, this is all my fault. I’m so sorry sweetheart I didn't mean to.” His voice shook, but his hold on you was tight, comforting. The good thing is that he was never violent towards you, other than the pushing your hands away

Later on the two of you moved to the couch, watching comfort movies and eating comfort snacks, you did the required coping skills and methods for regrounding that the doctor gave him to do, you didn't have to do it, but it seemed refreshing so you did it to aid in not making him feel so watched. 

It was rare for him to freak out like that, on this specifically too, maybe it was  because of the abandonment issues? You weren't quite sure.

[julietwiskey1]

What is your take in why Azula is as mistreated by the fandom and writers as she is? It's understandable to glorify your fave character like they do Zuko in fics and comics but why do they feel the need to bash on Azula?

It's kind of horrifying how passionate some people are about hating on a fictional 14 year old girl.

My personal theory is that Azula reminds people of parts of themselves they don't like so they subcounciously project their self loathing onto her- I found out that's why my sister disliked her.

I do think that you are onto something with your theory. It not hard to demonize what you dislike about yourself by hating a proxy. Though it would take a great deal of self awareness to recognize that.

My short and simple explanation is that the narrative hates Azula so the audience hates Azula. That’s really it for most people.

Throughout the cartoon she was always portrayed as a great danger to both Zuko and the gaang. The narrative goes out of its way to show Azula negatively as much as possible. And when it did start to humanize Azula towards the end it was too little too late.

The story also showed Azula as the more successful and preferred child over Zuko. And in the Fire family attention was a rare commodity, only one could get it. So unlike Katara and Sokka Katara’s success didn’t make Sokka less loved or accepted, and he was still able to shine. This does not hold true for Azula and Zuko. So Azula not being in her place is set up as cruel and mean to Zuko in a way that it shouldn’t. The story demonizes Azula for not being the subservient sister society expects of her.

This is how the writers wanted people to see Azula. And the fandom at large gets its cue from the writers and will mostly follow what they lay out.

Which I think is the major flaw in the writing of the show. Things between Azula and Zuko are shown as a zero sum game, as in both Azula and Zuko can’t share or succeed. So Azula’s success is always Zuko’s failure.

So the writers made it so only when Azula fails can Zuko succeed. Azula lost her friends and Zuko gained his. Azula lost her composure and Zuko found new balance in bending. Azula lost her crown and Zuko gained his. Ursa loved Zuko and Ozai loved Azula.

The narrative wants to prove Ozai right for some dumb reason.

People also like to bash on villainous characters as a kind of grandstanding. As if showing her punished, abused, and so forth is a sign that they know what’s good and bad. And that they are a believer in heavy handed justice to fictional characters because they themselves are good. After all good things should happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people, it’s what people want. After all who has heard of such things as mercy.

What concerns me more is why the writers would be so cruel towards her. After all they are the ones who really started the hate and why so many people do hate her. Part of it I think is sexism. While a younger sister can outshine her brother they still need to be caring and put fist their emotional well being.

Sorry for the ramble answer. But I think this is a rather complex question with more variables than I can cover.

[misosuper]

So given from the looks of it you’ve read the Talon comic quite in depth;

Say you work at DC Comics (May God have mercy on your soul but I digress) and were granted a good hefty amount of creative control with one particular assignment:

Brining Back Calvin Rose, Casey Washington and her daughter or at least having the reappear in any ongoing book of your choosing before they can get their own book once again should sales work great

Basically, what would you do if you’re writing a Talon book?

If ever found myself in that position, I don't need God's mercy nearly as much as some of the folks at DC if I cross paths with them. Assuming I successfully hold myself back from getting a restraining order against several members of the DC staff and focus on the project at hand:

Casey is the focal point for any meaningful interaction with current comics. By the end of Talon, Casey's group is continuing its former work but with significantly more funding. She's also had her civilian identity restored, along with her position as CEO of Securitus. She already has a team with plenty of personal history with different villains and organizations. That gives a lot of flexibility in how we could bring Talon into Dawn of DC.

One straightforward, easy answer for an ongoing series to reintroduce the Talon characters would be Detective Comics. Casey's team could reasonably collaborate with the usual 'tec cast by bringing their own strike team or intelligence to a case.

The other ongoing comic that comes to mind would be Birds of Prey. Dinah headhunting Casey for her expertise would be a cool way to see her reintroduced without bringing in the rest of her crew. I'd very happily settle for a good short-term cameo of Casey in BoP, maybe one that introduces a hero name for her now that she once again has a civilian identity to protect. Since this ask gave me creative control, I do what I want, and I'm giving Casey the codename Firewall.

But the true dream for reintroducing the Talon cast to an ongoing title, without question, would be the current Outsiders series. Casey already has a strong rapport with Lucius Fox, and in her role as CEO of a tech company with very strong ties to WE, Casey establishing a rapport with Luke in turn would be very reasonable based on her tech skills and professional role.

Just read the blurb for the current Outsiders comic and you will understand my vision:

What better way to compliment the goal of digging into the fictional "forgotten corners" of DC than to bring in characters from past titles? The goals of Luke's organization form an interesting venn diagram with the goals of Casey's. This gives us peak synergy, but with a supernatural twist that would be SO fun to see Casey and Calvin navigate. Anya and Joey would kick ass in this comic. I cannot imagine a more perfect way for Talon characters to re-enter canon than Outsiders, which is something I'd never have considered without this ask, so thank you for my new favorite brainworm. I'm going to be thinking about this forever.

Now onto the goal of a whole new Talon story. Sketching out what that would look like is far above my paygrade and ability level, so all I'm gonna do is outline my selfish wish list:

I'd love to see the end of Talon retconned. I gotta be honest, I think using the Lazarus Pits to perform Turbo Resurrection on Calvin was pretty cheap, and also undermines some of the most compelling and central aspects of his character explored in Talon Vol 2. Now that they've dealt with the Court, how does Calvin navigate freedom when so much of what he is and knows was shaped by their abuse? Now that he doesn't have to run away, what's he going to run toward? I want to see him wrestle with these questions, and a whole new Talon book can explore them in the ways the trite happy ending to the original series couldn't.

Now that the retcon is out of the way, I want this new book to explore Sarah more as a character as she ages - we ended Talon with a recovering but deeply traumatized kid. I was shocked that Talon had ZERO acknowledgement of the parallel that Calvin understands what being a kid brainwashed by the Court of Owls feels like, albeit as a Talon and not groomed to be an Owl. I want to see him help Sarah as she processes what she went through! There was a deeply bad scene at the end of Talon where Sarah was triggered by seeing Calvin in uniform, and Calvin was like "huh wild :)" without ANY meaningful connection and I am still wallowing in the missed opportunities there.

As this is quickly becoming a novel-length daydream session, I'm going to cut myself off here. This was such a fun ask to think over, thank you :D

Tl;dr crossover between Talon and Dawn of DC Outsiders my beloved

[blysse-and-blunder]

In lieu of a week in the woods

sunday, august 27, 2023 ~ 11:30pm

just got back from 6+ days off the grid, swimming, drinking tea, porch sittin’, and generally revisiting old stomping grounds. somehow it still wasn’t long enough.

(you can add a read more on mobile now??!!)

Reading picked out some specific weird old trade paperbacks to read at the cottage, and successfully finished one: margaret atwood’s lady oracle. one of those books where I will be thinking about it forever, but not necessarily because I enjoyed it? good prose moments, good turns of phrase or moments of clear perception, but i found the main character sort of perplexing—the bits of old Toronto, vintage mid century canadian childhood and adolescence, were probably what will stick with me. That and the way that I think it was trying to get psychonanalytic but, in classic 80s feminist fiction style, it didn’t make a ton of sense. also the fatphobia? like, experimenting with the pov of someone with intense body dysmorphia / weight shaming / internalized fatphobia felt unempathetic? like i was supposed to be impressed or titillated or surprised by this choice, that the book would even consider having a main character who was fat. period typical, sure, part of the mid century setting, sure, but also like. gratuitous.

also finished italo calvino’s the baron in the trees, and a.k. larkwood’s the unspoken name, and started the audiobook for the long way to a small angry planet. Also began my harrow the ninth reread, and wow this book is good. and even more so when you can follow what’s happening.

listening only the fact that I did spend so long literally in the woods has prevented me from having in-depth thoughts and feelings about hozier’s unreal earth. more to come as I sit with it longer, but so far—strong positive feelings. some new ground, some old ground, and some things that bridge the two nicely. worth listening to with headphones or however you can pick up all the layers in the mix. I really like ‘Icarian carrion’ on this listen.

watching watched a couple of episodes of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds this evening, since being back— ‘lost in translation,’ and the lower decks cross-over. loved seeing boimler and mariner in the flesh, and the different gags they fit into that one, despite the fact that one of the things I’ve liked most about this season has been the show gradually giving time to some of the more philosophical questions trek can explore—but lower decks does that too, sometimes better, and these two episodes back to back fit pretty well.

playing it was a very boardgame forward week at the cottage— clue, PARKS, and a new one for me, shadows over Camelot. not an uncomplicated setup, but some of the tie-ins to actual arthurian themes (the grail quest keeps pulling players in but it will grind them up and spit them out! the next generation are the ones who survive!) caught and held my enjoyment when the different mechanics threatened to lose it. I also tuned in to d&d remotely for a bit, though my connection was bad, and my rig was rated ‘haunted’ by the other players. they could hear crickets over the voice chat 😌🌲

making sewed a new patch onto my jacket and moved another two—picture to follow. didn’t do any of the mending I brought, but have had thoughts about what makes sense and what I might buy to supplement the projects. new fabric store on my commute deserves a visit, methinks.

working on truly the answer here is ‘not overthinking or delaying out of perfectionism’. which I have already done. finished all but the last eng 385 essay feedback, finished proofing for joe and responding to the department’s newsletter person for the piece she’s writing; still have to finish this letter of recommendation and these two (2!?) chapter drafts. the point is to be able to write a final sentence and just. let them go. learn how to not stop shy of finishing something. learn how to bring something (anything) to a state of some kind of completion. sure, right. sure.

if you need me, I’ll be back in the woods.

[my-own-walker]

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

9.

I'd never thought of myself as pretty. In fact, I'd never really thought of myself at all. Sure, I took pride in what I wore, but that was just about where the vanity stopped. My looks were the least of my worries.

But I seemed to care so much more about them suddenly. It felt like my skin didn't sit right over my bones. I found myself staring in the mirror, scrutinizing every detail on my face. The pores, the size of my lips, the bags that seemed to crop up overnight under my eyes. It was new to me to feel this way. To feel, I guess, not pretty.

In the week after the party (and my overnight stay), I kept mostly to myself. Despite not wanting to show up to Calculus class, I knew I had to. I sat quietly next to Kyle and took notes diligently, not saying a word to him.

I couldn't shake this disgusting feeling of both guilt and anxiety when I was near him. It was, in short, a rough few days. I would wake up, scrutinize my appearance, try in vain to dress myself, go to class, feel awful, then go back home and lay in agonizing silence, trying to quiet my thoughts.

That was, until Wednesday night. My phone lit up and buzzed on my nightstand. I sat across the room at my desk, reading a book for one of my other classes when the noise distracted me. Determined to finish the chapter I was on before checking it, I put my head back down and re-focused. Until another text alert came through. And another.

"Damn, chill," I spoke, thinking aloud. I strode across the room and stooped down to look at the screen, my stomach dropping when I saw who was multi-texting me.

Kyle: Hey Hannah.

Kyle: Just reminding you. Meeting tomorrow at mine.

Kyle: See you soon!

"Aw fuck," I groaned. I flopped, face-first onto my bed, which was thankfully right next to where my phone lay. "Motherfucker," I mumbled into the fabric of my duvet. For one, I didn't want to see Kyle in an intimate setting, such as his room, ever again. I also did not want to return to the KLG house, fearing that someone had seen me fleeing on Saturday morning.

Our weekly meeting for our Calculus project snuck up on me. While I would have much preferred for us to meet at my place, I knew that wouldn't do.

The inside of my shared apartment with Lily was pretty strangely decorated. Lily and I were lovers of all things fun and odd, and our interior design choices reflected it. Our couch was royal purple, and decorated with several random throw pillows and stuffed animals. We placed billiard balls in a decorative bowl on the cowboy-themed coffee table we found at an estate sale.

I refused to use overhead lighting, which drove Lily crazy. She yielded to me, though, a person who commonly got migraines, so everything was lit a warm yellow and striking pink, thanks to the miscellaneous strings of light I hung everywhere.

It was a small place, but it did the trick for the two of us. It wasn't great for entertaining, and the way we decorated it didn't help. It overwhelmed the space. We understood that. 

Because of how small the place was, there would be no way to avoid Lily, who simply couldn't help but either flirt or mess with any frat guy in her sight. She also couldn't help but bust my balls, so if her flirting went nowhere, she would accuse Kyle of being my boyfriend and insist upon making him super uncomfortable. With Lily set on bugging us, we'd never get anything done. 

My room was not exactly an option either. It sat right across from Lily's bedroom. It was small, dark, and plastered with posters. I had no issue keeping it clean enough, but it wasn't suited for people to hang out in there, let alone a frat boy. I assumed he probably wouldn't enjoy members of The Smiths or The Rolling Stones staring at him from the walls.

I digress, Kyle's place was the only option. And at that moment, it felt like an impossible mountain to climb, an incredible obstacle to overcome. 

+

The time came, much before I would have liked for it to, to head over to meet Kyle. Except, I stood in my room, surrounded by discarded outfits on the floor, staring at myself in the mirror, frustrated. Why was it that I couldn't seem to piece together the right articles of clothing? No matter what I put on, I managed to see something I didn't like about myself.

With little-to-no time left to pick, I settled on a tee with a black skirt and knee-high socks. I felt like shit, but I needed to jet if I was going to make it on time. 

The walk there was quick and painless. I arrived at exactly 7 pm, our agreed time. Kyle stood waiting for me on the stoop again, knowing I'd need ushering through the house.

"Hey Hannah," he called to me as I walked up the drive.

"Hi," I said, simply. I met him on the porch, waiting for him to lead the way. He opened the door and led me through the house, heading straight for the stairs and to his room. In the upstairs hallway, this time, though, stood Archie Brenner, the other KLG guy in mine and Kyle's Calc class. He paused and looked at me with an unreadable expression. I cast my eyes down and continued on.

"Hey," Archie called after us. We both spun to face him, surprised. "Are you seriously meeting for the project now? And this often?"

"Yes," Kyle replied lowly. "Strictly business."

"You two fuckin' try-hards," he laughed, shaking his head as he walked away. I sighed inwardly, having expected way worse.

We made it the rest of the way unscathed and settled in his room, I on the couch and he on the ground. The center of the room was a mess, the small area on the floor covered with books and papers. He sat in the center of it all, a spot he'd likely carved out for himself in the chaos.

"Sorry," he chuckled bashfully. "Lot of makeup work and current work."

"Did you miss a lot of school?" I asked, pulling my Calculus materials out of my bag. Kyle sighed and ran a hand through his curly blonde hair.

"I missed Friday and a couple of classes on Monday," he answered. "It all just piled up so fast." He laughed, scratching the back of his head while looking down at his mess.

"Do you need time to work on all of it? We can be quick so I can leave-"

"No, no," Kyle interrupted. "It's nice to have a break and actually speak with another human."

"Can I help?" I offered.

"I wish. I'll be okay," he smiled, setting a few books aside to make room for his Calculus materials. "I think we should decide what differentiation scenario we want to take on." He stuck his pen in his mouth and bit down, holding it in his teeth while flipping to the correct page in his notebook. My stomach twisted while watching him, almost as if I were homesick.

"Yeah, that makes sense."

+

"No, no, it is," Kyle argued, standing to join me on the couch. He flopped down next to me, scrolling through his phone frantically to prove his point.

"A number cannot possibly be lucky or unlucky," I protested, crossing my arms. "The stigma around the number 13 is ludicrous. And 7 isn't lucky either."

"Hannah," he spoke sternly, cocking his head to the side as he looked at me, lips tight. "You can't possibly be a non-believer. You look the part of a believer."

"I look the part?"

"Yeah with your, I guess, like weirdo style," he tried to clarify, looking back down at his phone.

"Weirdo?! Are you serious right now?" I cackled. 

"I meant, like, artsy, I don't know," he muttered, dismissing my feigned shock. "Here!" He held his phone out and showed me the door of a home, donning the number 66.

"Yes?"

"Like I said, 66 is my unlucky number," he explained, turning the phone back to himself. He stared at the image for a moment, lost in thought. I waited before interrupting his thought.

"Are you going to explain, or?" I tried, sarcastically.

"Uh, yeah," Kyle murmured, locking his phone. "That was my old house."

"Oh," I managed, sensing the shift in his tone. He put his phone down on the couch cushion next to him and looked back over at me, a strange look on his face.

"We lost it during Katrina. My dad had just cut out," he continued. "Nothing but bad things happened there."

"Gosh, I'm sorry Kyle," I whispered, not sure how to proceed.

"No, I brought it up, it's fine," he sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. "Brought it upon myself, I guess." He laughed sardonically.

"Doesn't make it any less shitty," I replied.

"Yeah, the situation was just, bad," he uttered, staring off over my left shoulder. "My mom isn't exactly all there, either. She's not right. Hard to live with." He shifted to face me better, resting his elbow on the back of the sofa.

I wasn't sure what to say, so I just nodded.

"After we lost our house, things got bad between my mom and me," Kyle went on, further spelling out a detail I didn't know about him. "I never had it good with my parents, but that year was the worst. Since then it's gotten even more bad. So I'm here."

"What do you mean?"

"I live pretty close to school but I live here because I can't live with her," he relayed. "It's okay because it's all on my dime. I'll be an engineer and make my money and be able to avoid her forever."

"Well, you have a plan at least," I returned."That's something."

"I got involved here so I don't have to go back there," he said. Kyle inhaled sharply as if he had broken out of a trance and smiled. "I'm sorry, I should stop."

I sat forward, putting a hand on his knee. "No, I'm sorry," I laughed. "I'm not good at finding things to say."

"It was nice that you listened," he hummed, looking down at my hand on his leg. I removed it quickly and crossed my arms, looking at him, almost pleading for him to change the subject with my eyes. "Do you want to get coffee or something this weekend?"

It was not the subject change I expected. In fact, words wouldn't even claw their way up my throat or fight through my lips. They sat in stunned silence in my head, frozen in shock. I mustered a nod, agreeing.

"Sunday?"

"Yeah, that works," I blurted, silently kicking myself that only those three words could muster the courage to leave the safety of my mouth.

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