#i don't even remember how this idea came to me i think i was just overly tired this morning and then this happened

[angelsfuzzyslippers]

Rambles about portraits and Octavia

So I spent a lot of time staring at this shot while I was working on art

Especially the portraits (even though I didn't draw them) and there was one in particular that really caught my eye:

This is a bit long so I'll stick my thoughts under the cut:

This portrait fascinated me because I couldn't recall seeing one like it anywhere else. We rarely (maybe never? I'm not sure) get portraits of Stolas and Stella together without Octavia and this one stuck out to me because of the posing - Stella is full-on leaning into Stolas's space, and it's often tough for me to tell when Stella is genuinely smiling with her beak, but there's unmistakable joy on her face. At first I almost wondered if this was meant to be an indication of Stolas trying harder to fit into a mold early in their marriage, be more like the type of Prince and husband Stella expected (and that might still be the case to a degree). But then I remembered we're actually in Octavia's mind/songscape, so these portraits more likely reflect how she sees her family. These could represent what she wants her family to be, but... I kinda wonder if instead they show what Octavia thought her family already was. We know from The Circus that Stella's mistreatment of Stolas was happening before he met Blitz. But I don't think Octavia knew. In Loo-Loo Land, Stella and Stolas are making no efforts to hide their dysfunctional marriage from her, but some of her statements later in the episode when she's having her heart-to-heart with Stolas ("Home doesn't even feel like home anymore, you ruined it." "When I was a kid and my parents didn't hate each other...") to me indicate that this dysfunction is somewhat new to her, a regular occurrence by that episode (as she doesn't bat an eye at the thrown plant), but not a long-term thing that she's accustomed to, and she immediately connects it with her father flirting with Blitz. I wonder if Stolas was actually doing a great job at hiding the cracks in his marriage - until Blitz came into the picture and suddenly he lost his grip on the facade. It would certainly help explain why Octavia repeatedly pins blame on Blitz, specifically, for their issues and why she's not as quick to place blame on her mother - from her perspective everything might've been fine until her father cheated, and her mothers aggression comes across as legitimate upset instead of long-term abuse. No idea how true any of this is, just some possibilities I was mulling over! Either way she and Stolas desperately need an honest conversation 😭

[syndrossi]

Thinking about Restoration AU (again). What POV would you like to write/or are you just interested in? Well, besides Cersei :D Even for the time of the first book, she can't be called sane. Maybe Jamie? Like you said, in the first book he wasn't in the mood for redemption, but here he meets the ghost of the man he was loyal to and whom he feels he has failed (I tend to think that Rhaegar just didn't want to take a 16 year old boy to battle, so he gave him an important "assignment").

Or maybe Robert's POV during the meeting with the twins? We know that Ned is mentally praying at this time, while Robert may not remember Rhaegar's facial features and his reaction is: ho ho our noble Ned is just a man too, we're not so different.

Or Catelyn? I don't share the fandom's hatred of her, but it would be very interesting to see her thoughts, especially how she tries to recreate the image of a "rival" to Rhaegar: his looks, charming singing, soft demeanor.

Personally, I'm probably most interested in seeing Darmon and Daenerys' POV. With Darmon, it will be both painful and fun - painful because he finds himself in a world where his children aren't around him, dragons are extinct, and the Targaryens have fallen (the story of Rhaegar's death might cause a sudden painful flashback). But watching him terrorize first the people of the valley and then Volantis, who have no idea where the hell the dragon came from or what children this madman is talking about (they're already willing to give him their children just to get rid of him) would be fun.

And for Daenerys I'm just happy, she'll probably be a little scared of Darmon at first (he's a little crazy during their first meeting) but then she'll appreciate him: the fact that there's finally an older family member protecting her from Viserys, and his dragon, and the way he treats her gently (she'll 100% remind Daemon of Rhaegar, only a girl). Or Viserys? In terms of insanity it should be something close to Cersei in the last few books.

Would love to see your thoughts. By the way, have you decided whose POV will be next?

Hmm, it's less for me about POVs and more about certain story events, other than the aforementioned Cersei POV. Like, the Robert meeting the twins is an obvious one, but I don't think I'll write Robert's POV. For that, I'm leaning toward Ned's, especially because he'll get to see little!Jon/Willam staring absolute daggers at Robert, both as in the I HATE YOU sense and the DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH MY LITTLE BROTHER-DAD sense, but Ned will likely interpret it as "you killed our older brother! 😡" Whereas Rhaegar/Raymar is deer-in-headlights "if I don't move he won't see me" mode.

(Oh, or could THAT be our first Cersei POV? Ehh, I still think Ned, but I can absolutely see Cersei being huffy about Robert going to greet Ned's bastards after he meetings the trueborn ones, viewing it as him rubbing his adultery in her fave, and then she catches a glimpse of Rhaegar and goes why hello yes target acquired ned stark's bastards you say?

Goodness, I hadn't thought about Rhaegar becoming the symbol of the boys' mother to Cat, but he probably would, wouldn't he? Jon and Willam remind her enough of Ned, but she's staring at this dainty-looking child with the long braid, imagining the woman's silver-blond hair and beautiful eyes and quiet demeanor. Did she sing? Is that what drew Ned to her?

Okay, I may have to steal the "Volantis just starts flinging Valyrian-looking children at Daemon in a bid to appease him" bit for Daemon's reign of terror across Essos. 😂 They just round up every child that looks the least bit like him, and even throw in some dark-haired, grey-eyed ones like the other child he mentioned. Daemon is all "wtf am I supposed to do with these?" and they're all "feed them to your dragon if they aren't what you want, please just leave us alone."

I think Dany and Daemon's first meeting will definitely be a Dany POV, so I suppose that's one I'm looking forward to! I still haven't decided the exact timing there. Canonically per the book, her wedding to Drogo has already occurred by now, so either I shift the time so that Daemon can dramatically prevent it, or he rocks up on the Dothraki and starts burning until they give him his kin.

I have not yet decided which POV is next, though that's up after Knight of Stars pt2. (Assuming I don't get sucked into the "Rhaella gets summerhalled" AU I'm very tempted to write first. And we still need the wintery hot springs prompt fill! Lots to write this week.)

[possibilistfanfiction]

arcane prompt "hospital"?

[jinx deserves the world, also it's nice to let cait use her girlboss disposition for good sometimes, yknow. ao3 here.]

///

you hand caitlyn a cup of black tea she probably thinks is beyond shitty; it's all they had at the cart in the courtyard, and you still have no idea how to make proper tea anyway. still, she smiles — small, and residually scared, but genuine — in thanks. she's been crying, you can tell: her eyes are red-rimmed and the sweater of vi's she'd thrown on in the middle of the night is rumpled around the sleeves, like she'd used them to wipe her tears.

'she's going to be okay, right?' you look at vi's still, bruised form in the bed. 'they didn't, like, tell you really bad news while i was gone or something.'

caitlyn steadies herself. 'no,' she assures you. 'she's going to be just fine.'

'okay,' you say, and you trust her because she loves vi and because she's a doctor, and mostly because at this point caitlyn wouldn't lie to you. you scoot your chair forward and lace your fingers together with vi's hand, the one without an iv taped into it, and squeeze gently, just a hello. the doctors had explained that she's on a lot of medicine to keep her comfortable, plus the anesthesia from her surgery, so she's not going to wake up until midday at the earliest. but just in case she can feel you, you want her to know that you're there. you remember coming out of the worst sedations, medication that was wrong for you or just way too high a dose, to vi slumped next to your bedside, her big, strong hand steadfast around yours. 'did you see her x-rays or medical history or something?'

'i didn't intend to,' she says in way of an answer.

'ah.' you fiddle with vi's fingers. 'gnarly, huh?'

she puts her tea down on the small table near the bed and runs a hand through her hair before she scrapes it up into a messy ponytail. 'i knew, in theory,' she says. 'we've talked about things, of course. i'm able to help take care of when her chronic back pain flares, and how she really should have a surgical repair on her bad shoulder. but, i just, well. i suppose i comprehend the breadth of it now, more completely at least, the details in a way i can understand.'

you don't know; you don't ever want to know, not like that. vi still has nightmares about prison, still doesn't eat enough sometimes, still refuses heating pads and advil sometimes after a hard shift. 'yeah.'

'and i suppose, too, that it's hard to know how much she's hurt, even if it's so much less bad now.' she shrugs, helpless, and looks at you. 'i just love her.'

it had been terrifying, to get a call in the middle of the night from the fire department: vi had been in a building when it collapsed, and she was hurt and it was, potentially, very bad. you're not sure who they'd called first — you or caitlyn — but she'd texted you a minute after and offered to pick you up so you could both wait at the hospital while vi was in surgery. it had taken two hours before her dad came out and explained that vi had some internal injuries that still needed more fixing in surgery, as well as a few bruises and scrapes, but she would recover fully with time.

'you should move in with each other,' you say.

caitlyn pauses for a few moments, but then she lets out a quiet laugh. 'how long have you been holding that in?'

you shrug. 'you guys have been together for two years. i know vi wants to.' you don't mention that you hack into caitlyn's person email on occasion, just because you like to be nosey; you don't mention that you'd seen her and vi send property listings back and forth the last few months. 'i know she hasn't said anything to me because she doesn't want to upset me, or make me think like she's choosing you over me, or whatever.'

caitlyn considers it calmly. 'she would never do that, you know.'

'yeah.' you do; it's the thing you know most in the world. 'i also know that she's scared that if she doesn't help me at much, i'll have another episode.'

that, caitlyn has no response to.

'i've talked about this a lot in therapy.' you squeeze vi's hand, just in case she's listening too. 'at first i couldn't manage any of it without her, for sure.'

vi had spent her first month out of prison visiting you in your tent in the scariest part of town, not pushing, just bringing you food and warm clothes, comfortable blankets; she'd sit with you for hours if you'd let her, even if most of the time you talked to voices only you could hear and saw things she never would. finally, you agreed to go to the hospital with her, and from there it was more months of getting clean, and trying different medications, and really lame group therapy, and coming to terms with your diagnosis. vi was there as often as she could be, clean-cut for once while she went through the fire academy. you don't remember many details, but when you'd finally gotten released, she'd brought you to this small, rundown one bedroom apartment that she'd made as nice as she could. the first night you were home, she fell asleep in bed next to you in less than a minute, a few tears on her cheeks, seemingly of their own accord. it's always been a measure of love you'll always be a little in awe of.

'but, like, i remember my meds on my own now. i have a system.'

caitlyn's smile is honest-to-god proud. 'that's no small feat.'

you try to act nonchalant, but she's right: most of your medications have side effects that require other medications to off-set, and it's a nightmare if you don't coordinate them properly. 'and, like, my graduate program is going well, and i have friends, and i like climbing. i feel, not good, i guess. maybe i'll never feel good. but i feel real, and most of the time the world feels real too.'

caitlyn lays her hand on top of yours, and vi's.

'anyway,' you say, clearing your throat so you don't cry. you run your free hand through your hair, grown out some now after your "interesting decision," as vi had said, last year during a meltdown. 'vi can move out, and ekko can move in to our apartment. he's —' your boyfriend? your best friend? your favorite person, other than vi?

caitlyn smiles gently. 'he is.'

'he knows what to do, if i need help.'

'and i know you want to live with vi, and i know she wants to live with you.' even though you invade their privacy by checking emails, you'd never spill the beans that they've both individually been looking at rings. 'i can manage, without her there as much. i don't think either of us ever thought that would be our reality, which is why vi hasn't brought it up. i know she's still scared, probably forever. it was scary.' you take a big breath and then let it out; when you'd first gotten your diagnosis, it seemed like you would never get to be a full, independent person, and then it would be a death sentence. 'but i want to try. i can try.'

caitlyn squeezes your hand, and vi's too. 'i believe you will do wonderfully, in both my professional and personal opinion.'

'oh. really?'

she nods. 'you haven't had a full blown episode in over a year. i see you manage your days, and your impulses. clinically, you're actually a great patient. personally, you're a pain in the ass sometimes, but not because you're unwell.'

'just because of my stunning charm and incredible sense of humor? my flair for the dramatic?'

'something like that, sure.'

you laugh. 'thank you, so so much.'

she rolls her eyes but she's still fond of you, especially in the early morning light. vi's eyes are both bruised blue, but caitlyn had told you that surgeons had finally fixed her broken nose after it broke again this time: you're pretty sure vi hasn't been able to breathe properly since she was, like, twelve. at the very least she'll snore less, so a win for all of you. 'we found a house we want to put an offer in on,' she admits.

'yeah?'

she nods. 'it's not too far from your place, and it's right on the park.'

you scoff, just for posterity. 'fancy.'

she's unfazed by this point. 'we — well, vi was going to tell you, but i know it's fine if i do. we know you and ekko want to keep your current place, and i'd actually like to sit down with both of you and see if there's any way i can assist with your rent or other budgetary items.'

you're definitely, 100% about to cry, all of a sudden.

'she is so proud of you, for even being able to consider pursuing increased independence.'

you sniffle.

'but, the brownstone we're looking at also has a fully finished basement, with a bedroom and a small living area, its own bathroom. we've planned for it to be your space, whenever you want it, for any reason, for however long you'd like to stay. a night, a year. you will always have a home with violet, which means you will always have a home with me too.'

you have to do your deep breathing: sometimes kindness, especially given freely, is what makes the world slide most off-kilter. there are always voices telling you that you don't deserve good things, that caitlyn, and vi, and ekko, and vander, and even caitlyn's parents, when you go over to their giant ass mansion for celebratory dinners or parties, are lying to you. but you put your head down against your joined hands and count to ten, whisper it aloud, and then sit back up. caitlyn is waiting patiently.

'how big is the house?'

she laughs, heartily, and pulls out her phone to show you pictures and specifications. it's beautiful — not that you'd ever expect less of caitlyn kirammen — but she also tells you the plans she has to decorate, and your chest aches with a happiness so tinged with grief when she casually explains things vi wants in each room too. it's a life you never dreamed you'd get to have, and you know vi has probably been having total menty-b's about all of this, but she deserves a home more than anyone you've ever met.

'it's fine, i guess,' you say, after caitlyn finishes showing you their plans for the patio and yard.

caitlyn laughs. 'up to your standards?'

'could use more neon.'

'keep it confined to the basement, and you've got a deal.'

'ugh.'

'the only request i have is that you not blow it up.'

you pretend to contemplate. 'that's reasonable, i guess.' you look around at all the monitors proclaiming your big sister's strong heart and lungs and brain, despite it all. 'vi's gonna be so relieved that we don't have to have a heart to heart when she wakes up.'

caitlyn looks at the still planes of vi's face adoringly. disgusting, still. 'she'll be difficult enough as it stands, i'm sure.'

'total pain in the ass.'

////

you spend the first night after vi moves out in your apartment with ekko, and you fall asleep with your head tucked into his chest, safe still, even now. that weekend, you haul a duffle bag of your stuff — clothes, toiletries, a quarter of your lab, a few cans of spray paint — to vi and caitlyn's new house. neither of them are home yet, vi stuck grumpily on desk duty for the evening and caitlyn's meeting running over.

but your key turns in the lock, and your favorite snacks are stocked in the pantry. eventually, they both get home, and they're happy to see you, and caitlyn laughs at the improvements you've already done to the walls of the basement. vi ruffles your hair and you bully both of them into ordering tacos like you want, even though they have plenty of things you could cook at home. caitlyn is polite enough to let you curl up with vi on the couch, just for tonight, and you fall asleep, safe and warm, there too.

[3grey-morals5]

hcs-scp/035&049🤩🤩🤩 (hc1)

uhh...idk I'm just putting shit here atp. Just kinda putting stuff down as I think abt/remember it. Please note this is a bit shippy, but it isnt like.. Dumbed down and cutesy. i try my best to give both chars a more mature and thoughtful feel - stay close to the scp aEsThEtIc of seriousness

THIS IS ALL MY IDEAS FOR IT. NO IT MAY NOT BE TRUE TO TH3 CANON.

-035

this pertains to the collection as a whole, but it's kinda like. There was a original 035 right. That was the jester/black lord consciousness, and it was alone until they left alagadda and the mask started having more hosts. Each new one added the consciousness of that host into the "hivemind" of other hosts.

Due to this system of consciousness , past memories from the other hosts and original, the BL(black lord not boy love) are sorta like a weird game of telephone. For example, the bl liked 049 in alagadda, and that got passed on- but through the different telling of stories the perception changed. So, they mostly recognize 049, but don't know why he's so important so they're left guessing.

smells interesting. Like those dried flower things that give of a nice smell but also to a point it's too sickly sweet or has a unpleasant after smell. Coupled with the hosts smell ofc, but the mask on its own smells like that and a bit earthy too. It's seems nice at first but the more you smell it the more it deteriorates into ...eugh.

This is kinda relevant more to my alagadda hcs, but explains the "goop" coming from them. In alagadda, ESPECIALLY in lords, their is a surplus of unwanted (or wanted, that will be gotten to in the future) humors. For example, the red lord has too much red humor(blood I beleive?) That overhauls all other emotions or humors into JUST mirth. They physically cant feel anything other than that. This goes for the Bl too, there was just so much black bile causing anguish that that was all they could feel. Thus, deteriorating them mentally and physically bc..I mean if you were in constant upset it would take a toll on you. How to fix this? Bloodletting! Er, BILE letting. It helps balance out the humors, to be able to feel more than just their assigned humor. Somehow in the transition from alagadda to the "real world" there was a constant flow able to break through the mask, thus 035 is able to switch emotions very fast and not dwell on just one. Well not more than a normal being would.

In constant mental turmoil due to contaiment,multitude of hosts, nature of said hosts, ect. Causes extreme mood swings, lashing out, psychotic behavior, ect. Like. Not even a headcanon really but they're actually insane. Prone to rash decisions that don't consider future repercussions, unhealthy attachments, Yada Yada Yada.

Moral compass is completely fucked but still tries to do what they pertain as GOOD. Leads to alottt of awkward situations with the staff bc like. Got a Lil dirty secret? Mask mf knows. And you know very well he WILL leak that shit like a furry fandom beware but with 10x more salt in the wound.

will lie withought shame. Not really a headcanon cause this is common knowledge but I just wanna push that this mf is NOT a truthful bitch. 100% a scam artist in a modern setting, and at one point swore up and down that they invented an idea or product just for the fun of seeing how far it could go.

fun fact: Dýo (THE Scp035) actually came up with the idea for the bicycle far before it's alleged creation? The mask states: "My dearest ------- is so slow in his gait! I beleived it would assist him in an easier - and if I may say, more amusing way of transport"

Alagadda related, but..haha. lord. Emo ass lord./pos Look at you all "cut my life into peices" and wearing all black with black hair and a black feather but still got that pale ass face like uve seen a ghost thrice in the last few seconds. In my version they're the youngest of the 4 and...certainly act like it. At least from the media, me being an only child I don't know what siblings are like.

Despite their very VERY disturbing looks, the bl is actually a fairly nice guy(keep in mind this is BEFORE all of the new hosts so it's just one conciousness). The most pessimistic guy you will ever meet, but still a nice one. The palace is dreary asf but is quiet and relatively easygoing as long as you follow some set rules. Anguish dosent like going out much, prefers to stay in doors and refuses all their fellow lords(mainly mirth) attempts to have them join in on the "fun" preferring to instead stay stuck in the past and wallow in self pity. The only way this was turned was at the start of the bile-letting by a doctor (049) and that gave him the actual capacity to feel other than anguish- growing fond of his "savior" and attempting to court him (eventually succeeding. They had a relatively good relationship before all went to shit) he still had alot of sadness, but was more active and lively much to the suprise of palacegoers and dismay of other lords - and of course, the ambassador.

There is much more I would like to add for 035, them being my favorite for...5 or so years now? Has given me plenty of thinking time to develop new ideas for them. I still have much left to say but this is getting upsettingly long and I wish to move onto 049. (Then for a treat, you may have some hcs of their relationship- the good and bad)

-049

Im not gonna assign mental illnesses or disabilities i know nothing about to characters, but there is certainly something going on here.

Began with small signs at childhood. Normally level headed but could snap at family and friends out of the blue, anxious behaviors, visions/illusions or whatever they're called, along with hearing voices and following impulse. They eventually were housed in solidarity by their parents out of worry for their child, (now around teenage) worsening their condition. Sometime during the start of the plauge, they were able to escape and made their way into society.

Really does think he's doing good! Like.. really is trying!! But it's not good at all!!! Primarily self taught with shit he finds around and learning from other doctors, which ahem, eventually are killed to use as patients when the mental instability sets in again and he starts to view them as sick or evil in some way. Not sanitary(obv) but even worse so because he is constantly mucking around in body pits trying to do something covered in rot and gross never changing, rarely eating..just a real sight.

Some way or another made it to alagadda. Yay? Something in the way the city feels is calming, and depresses his mind into a more manedgable and "normal" state where he is able to think clearly. The peak in his career where he learned the most, did the most good, and was a TRUE doctor.

Spent a lot of time in the library, then wandering around in very little free time usually giving remedies to townsfolk suffering from whatever ailments eith the supplies he had. Eventually supplies were sponsored by Anguish when they grew close, and he was able to make quite a name for himself within the citizen community. Retained humanity and compassion which was relatively new in the city, and that drew many in

All good must come to an end though, and being banished from alagadda back in the normal world (with 035 but he's not as important in this awesomesauce 049 discussion) did a huge number on his health and basically reset all the progress he made. Turning ..well, crazy, once again and running even more rampant with the new knowledge he learned. This is where he began actually being able to revive.

A very gentlemanly fellow on the outside but it's a whole fucking shitshow on the interior. It takes alot out of them to constantly stay in check(a skill he's learned with his years) but every once in a while it slips and he just bursts or goes into autopilot(not good either)

Very insecure and untrusting, and while looking a lot more sincere and well rounded/not impulsive like 035, he really isn't a polar opposite. Lil bro is anxious point and laugh at his dumbass.(relax snowflakes, I have diagnosed anxiety I can make this joke 🥰)

No I don't have as much stuff for 049 as 035, as I find him more tricky to write for and thus am spending more time trying to round out my perception of him. Anyways. Here's some cute and also sad 035x049 shit idfk it's almost 1 am I'm so tired of typing if you're actually reading this ily

-good!!!! During alagadda

was very one sided at first, mainly Anguish puppy dog eyes over his cool goth bird crush who LITTERALLY made him feel something other than anguish with procedures and all.

At last 049 (bless his heart he was so sheltered he dosent have much a grasp on the concept of love or whatevs) was like maybe this guy wanna be more than friends. Much to bls relief this attempt at courting bad been going on for far too long in his humble opinion.

Spend an ungodly amount of time together. Like enough to raise suspicion if they weren't extremely careful with all of it. If thus shit got out...(it did) it would be over for lovey dovey couple

Lots of time spent in the palace gardens...mmm grey lavender is such an appealing smell to experience while you're giggling shrouded by bushes trying to keep your relations with your first love hidden like Romeo and James or some shit. Anguish taught him to dance like the citizens at balls did, and it was very much appreciated - a big pass time of theirs. 049 still kinda has to sleep? Bl dosent, but he likes to just read silently while doc uses his much larger body as a pillow. (And maybe wake him up out of sheer boredom, much to docs dismay)

049 enjoys preening with the use of anguish 's bile as a sort of shampoo. It slides right off his feather and hair and takes all the little mites with him. In turn, doc will scratch places that are "hard to reach " can bl get them himself? Maybe. But he would much rather a professional do it.

Anguish was giddy at the start of their courting and would write poems at their anniversaries (one week, one month, 2 months, ect) doc would always try to read them but eventually would have to have bl read them due to the handwriting. At times bl couldn't even read what he scribbled down only hours earlier. These weren't a few stanzas either, these were LONGASS poems ok. He has alot of free time.

Physical touch is a blessing when you spend alot of you lives being seen as sickly and gross, so they usually will have some sort of contact. That is, if doc isn't in a sour mood and feeling extra prickly.

They sure as hell respect boundaries though. Bl knows the signs of a doc that isn't in the mood to get poked or messed with, and doc in turn sees when anguish isn't in the best mood to be given sass. He is always down to be poked and messed with but God forbid someone roll their eyes at him when he's almost enraged

-bad :(((((( after alagadda

Their worst traits feed of eachother. Bad.

Heh..I'm a fool guys....I like good relationship sm that I forgot to hc bad...oopsies. jk but not ill have them in the future but dawg it 1 30 am I wanna go to bed!!!

If there is errors in this I am very sorry. I am also very sleepy and aore and that is why there is errors. THANK YOU FOR READING THIS FAR ONG??? Hope u enjoyed. Adios :3

[mssmars]

Landduo_One-shot fanfic

Here's a little one-shot fanfic about landduo(Foolish and Badboyhalo). Characters maybe a little bit or very much OOC but I wanted to give it a shot and make one anyways. I'm not really a writer nor am I good at writing the characters personality's right but feel free to make your own twist on this or build upon it if you want.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Landduo: The funeral-

Bad's POV:

Despite it being such a beautiful day everyone is in a melancholy mood and the tension is high. War might any moment, but we all were able to set aside a day to host a funeral for the king.

Bad sits on the roof of the bell tower at his cathedral, staring up at the vibrant sky in thought.

Immortality. A gift for some...and a curse for others. for me it's both. A gift that allows me to keep seeing new things...and meet new people but a curse that leaves me alone...watching everything that was created, whether it be by me or someone else get destroyed...or have me leading the dead to their afterlife.

I. A being that's been there since the beginning, that saw the start and end of the dinosaurs to the rise of civilizations. A being that started as a spectator now a pawn in the narrator's game have lived long enough to become...indifferent to my immortality.

However, there's been one constant in my life in every universe. another immortal being that always seem to come into my life. A totem shark hybrid by the name of Foolish.

A soft smile graces bad's face as he thinks of Foolish.

We've known each other for what feels like eternity...In every universe me and him. We always end up together. Either as friends, frenemies, enemies, acquaintances or whatever the narration wants us to be. He's always there, fate is funny like that.

Two sides of the same coin, yet we treat immorality different. I guess that's what lead us to this point. In every universe, even if one of us or both of us die. It takes a long time for rebirth...to reform. at least, that's what I assume. it could be different for each of us.

This time however it's different. This universe has us on three lives. three lives and then you reset. A 24 hour wait until you come back, either a new person or the same person yet changed forever by the death you've just experienced. A few people have already lost 3 lives and came back...I'm on my last life and it's made me wary. I don't want to lose this last life. I've lost a life before; I remember it a little bit...dying slowly in a flower field alone, feeling death consume me and then starting over again. My memory of that time is fuzzy, and I rather not go through that again especially if each death is 24 hours...each reset for me, might bring a different me...and it'll be an endless cycle that I rather not repeat.

Foolish on the other hand had all his lives...

Bad's eyes narrow in guilt and frustration

He had all his lives but I... I took two of them. not realizing how strong the blows my weapons would deal, would be fatal...and that brought about Foolish's idea to jump the broom and end his last life. We could've had one life together but NO. he suggested we both do it together, obviously I was against it, and I tried to talk him out of it, but he still went with it anyways. It eventually led to him being killed by Pili, a cat hybrid who was part of the hostile faction, who needed to kill someone, or they all lose a life.

I hate the fact that I couldn't kill him with an elaborate plan, both lives taken accidentally and the last life taken by someone other than me is frustrating. then another life was taken accidentally a day later by me... Maybe my immorality isn't a mixture of a gift or curse...maybe I'm just cursed to take lives and lead them on. to repeat the cycle, in a never-ending loop...

A voice from below interrupts bad's train of thoughts and as the "demon" looks down to see, the cat hybrid Pili shouting for him to come down. With a sigh Bad stands up, dusting himself off before shooting a teleportation arrow near Pili.

Pili: Bad, the funerals about to begin...are you ready?

Bad: Yea, I'm ready.

They both walk side by side as they enter the cathedral. neither of them says a word even as they walk by all the other members of the community who came to the funeral. Bad takes a seat near the front as he stares at the coffin in silence and Pili takes the stand to start the reception. Once everyone takes there turn to say a few words about King Foolish and had a moment of silence at the coffin to say they're finally goodbyes it finally became Bad's turn. As he stood up to walk towards the coffin, He thought of everything he wanted to say and everything he couldn't. He stops in front of the coffin staring at Foolish's body for a minute. taking in every detail for a minute before turning to the audience and begin to give his finally words.

Bad: My beloved...Our beloved king was a selfish tyrant who...died unrighteously by an unknown assassinator...and even though he has died...he will not be missed.

He gives a humorless laugh before continuing, unaware of the murmurs that begin to fill the crowd.

Bad: But make no mistake he will be back...

Pili speaks from the crowd.

Pili: Um bad behind you...

Bad: Yes, yes...I know my beloved king lays behind me but fear not he may not arise from the dead today, but he will...

Foolish: Um, what's going on? Who are you people?

Bad swipes a fake tear from his eyes.

Bad: you know...it's kind of crazy, but it's like I can still hear his voice...right behind me...

A hand drops onto his shoulder startling the "demon" out of his "Monologuing" and he turns to the owner of the hand with wide eyes.

Bad: What the fudge! Foolish you're alive!

The demon exclaims before pulling the totem into a hug, forgetting all about the audience behind them. Bad pulls back to look at the totem with a smile but the totem only stares at bad in confusion.

Foolish: Um I'm sorry but do I know you...?

The question freezes the "demon" to his core and his expression drops as he pulls back from the totem fully. His expression tight as he answers the question.

Bad: ...You did...I guess you're a blank slate this time around...

The expression the totem gives bad remains confused but before he could question it any further a cry from the audience catches his attention and then he's being pulled into another hug by Ros and any other member that was a part of his faction. Bad seeing the opportunity decides to give them all space and leave the cathedral for some alone time.

-Time skip later, that night-

Bad finds himself at the King's bridge. sitting on the edge as he stares up at the night sky, the stars shining bright, the fish making ripples in the water and the cold night air causing a slight shiver to run up bad's spine. Bad knows Foolish has long since retired to his bed chambers and he knows other people have done the same. He however couldn't help but want to watch over the king and the kingdom's grounds for a bit.

He sits out there for a few hours before he here silent footsteps approach and a familiar voice speaking up behind him.

Foolish: Couldn't sleep?

Bad turns to him with a slight smile. Bad: I suppose not...what about you?

Foolish walks closer to bad before leaning against the railing besides bad and looking up at the sky aswell, mirroring bad.

Foolish: You can say something like that...or you could say I had a feeling that made me want to take a stroll.

Bad glances to Foolish with a huff.

Bad: A feeling?

Foolish lips pull into a smirk as he meets his gaze.

Foolish: Yup! A feeling.

Bad: ...right? you mind sharing what that feeling is?

Foolish: Maybe, but I'm sure you may already know. After all you are the one who took both my lives.

Bad scoffs as he turns fully to Foolish.

Bad: First, they were accidents and...wait...you remember?

Foolish's smirk turns into a full-blown grin as he turns Bad, crossing his arms.

Foolish: Maybe...

Bad exclaims in fake annoyance as he slaps the other man's arms in turn Foolish puts his hands up in a placating manner.

Bad: You ragga-muffin! When did you get your memories back!?

Foolish: hmm, around evening, but I wanted to let you sit in the guilty for a little while...you know to think about your actions.

Bad's shoulder's start to shake from annoyance, anger and maybe a little bit of happiness as he stares at Foolish in silence, deep in thought. Annoyance that Foolish would take a chance to pull something like this (Even though he should've seen it coming) and happy that he didn't have to start over on rebuilding their complicated relationship. It was hard to figure out what exactly made him angry he figures that maybe it's just the entire situation itself, but he could dwell on that later for now things would go back to normal or at least as normal as it could be with the two of them.

Foolish watches Bad, watches the emotions flickering in his eyes and he can practically feel and hear his thoughts but before he could speak again Bad lets out a sniffle and as Foolish looks closer, he can see the beginning of tears form in Bad's eyes. With a sigh Foolish pulls Bad into a hug and they sit in silence in each other embrace.

Neither know how long they stayed like that, in each other's embrace, letting the small amount of vulnerability show in each other's presence before Bad speaks up.

Bad: You had me worried...You raggamuffin.

Foolish lets out a small snort before responding.

Foolish: In every universe, right?

Bad hums before pulling back away and staring at the stars again, two stars shine the brightest and Bad smiles before responding.

In every universe.

The End.

or is it?

Anyways um...I put too much effort into this.... I might make more...I might make shorter ones...this one shot been on my mind since 7am and ...idk...but like if you like it feel free to make something similar to this, build upon it or take inspiration. there isn't a lot of landduo Fics, and I felt like making one after reading one that someone posted on twitter the other day. It was really good to read, it's called no universe. Every universe by (cereuleanskies). They inspired this Fics and inspired me to actually go through with making it. Along with what some people have been saying on twitter about Foolish coming back with amnesia.

Anyways Thanks to anyone who read this, and I appreciate feedback lol!

[typhoonvash]

Breathe.

Vash just needs to... breathe—to give himself a moment to take it all in, to calm down, to think about his own words. He fixates on his breath while undressing so much that he finally silences his chatterbox mouth for more than a few minutes.

He can't help but feel a creeping shyness in undressing, even if he'd done all of that and more with Wolfwood two hundred years prior. It's been a while! His body wasn't pretty before, and it's definitely worse now. Carved chunks of his flesh look deeper than before, he has far more stitched wounds. He'd nearly lost a leg once, indicated by a twisting, jagged scar around his shin and thigh where a bear trap weapon clamped onto him. Before he turned himself in, the bounty hunters became worse. Desperate, penniless, and hungry, these hunters gave their all to catch him for the unimaginable prize attached to his name. Most people didn't recognize him anymore, but when someone did...

All of the metal had to be removed when things began to shock him wherever he went, replaced by the same sturdy alloy that his most recent arm was made of. Unlike his arm from two centuries ago that didn't survive the end, the one Wolfwood retrieved lacked a gun. He couldn't have weapons in jail for obvious reasons, so Brad made him an arm just like the one he had when he'd met the priest—instead of shimmering green, it was a glassy onyx. That arm served him well. Without Brad around though, Vash can't help but wonder how he'll get a replacement...

With it gone, at least he doesn't need to concern himself over taking it off as well. Vash can just get out of his clothes and slip into the tub before Wolfwood can look at him too hard. He can feel his gaze on him when he's undressing, and while not unwelcome, it does send a terrible chill through Vash's bones that he wishes he could hide better. He wants this. More than anything else on the planet, he wants this right now. He just... hadn't thought about what bathing would entail. Kinda.

Vash huffs and shakes the jitters out from his shoulder to his hand before turning around. His gaze softens as he admires Wolfwood from the chest up, sunken and relaxed in the water just as he'd wished would happen when he built this place. It's satisfying, to say the least.

"Well, you are the only one who's ever been able to catch me," he chuckles and continues with an endearing speaking tone, "I don't have billions and billions of double dollars to give you as a reward though. Guess you got scammed, huh?"

He takes Wolfwood's hand in his as he steps into the bath and sinks right into the space in front of his partner, between his legs and against his chest. The new scars on Wolfwood's body hadn't escaped his scrutiny however; still holding onto his hand, Vash leans forward to present his back to the undertaker. Betwixt all of the scarred flesh and implants are difficult to see fringed scars, lightning scattering in every direction and more.

"We match now, I guess," the water swirls as he returns to leaning against the man behind him, "Do they hurt? What—um... what did they have to do to you? You seem more... Plant-y than I remember. Your heart, specifically. I know it's weaker than before but... it's as if they replaced it."

Vash shuts himself up by dipping his head below the water and running his fingers through it before they lather it up. Strands separate from each other as he scrubs at his scalp underwater, freeing them from a decade of grease and oil. He breaches again and sits up, curiously twisting his back to see Wolfwood's face and golden-brown eyes. The Independent has no idea just how love-stricken he looks, but he does feel tears threaten to pool at the corners of his eyes again.

It's just the hot water, Vash thinks to himself, trying not to think of all the years that came between the two of them.

"Oh, and d-don't worry about me shocking us in here! I've been... feeling calmer. Less zappy. Maybe my 'nap' did work after all..."

“You are…”

Wolfwood has so many options to choose from that he must look stupid standing there blinking at Vash with his lips parted and his head on a slow, back and forth swivel of disbelief.

“Ridiculous.”

An understatement to every thought cavorting around in his head and behind his ribs. Having personally scoured every inch of this house himself, the endless attention and care behind every nut and bolt, every tile, and every painstakingly planed, stained, and delicately carved plank of wood was not lost on him. He hadn't wanted to dwell on the ‘with enough room for two’ of it all.

“Vash.” One day, perhaps, Nicholas might see that jittery anxiety driving Vash’s breathless stream of consciousness take a backseat. They'll work on it. There's always tomorrow…or the day after that, and the day after that one. He doesn't need even a quarter of everything Vash built here for them to be happy, but he understood what it meant to pour your grief into something just to give it somewhere to go. “Everything’s perfect the way it is. If I find a pea in the mattress, I'll be sure to let ya know, Blondie.”

For now, they have a hot bath to look forward to. 

“Alright. Time to get skinny.” 

Wolfwood pauses as a growing pile of clothing pools at his feet and the faucet shudders to life. Two fingers part the steady stream of water while he checks the temperature then squints back at Vash, slender as a reed and just as tall after their emergence from the cave system tunneling through the nearby hills. His gaze lingers, roving over the line of Vash’s shoulders and the scars cutting across his chest before he turns his attention back to grabbing an unopened bottle of soap standing on the lip between the wall and the tub. “Skinni-er.”

Watching the water level climb and peeking back every so often as Vash undresses is an equally surreal experience. The culmination of a four year search across a world that he had grown up in but was no longer recognizable to him, a stark, slap in the face difference between sleeping alone last week and holding Vash in his arms alongside a few skipped heart beats. The more he looks, the more heady he feels. The sound of rushing water seems too appropriate as he leans down to shut off the faucet, like the roar of his own thoughts spinning in his head.

With the bath finally ready, he slides down at the rear of the tub, leaving plenty of room for Vash to join him. Arms spread along the top sides of the bath, Nicholas has an awareness of how prominent the scars branching out from his sternum must look in the light of day. Bringing him out of stasis had been a gamble that Home had to make. 

“They needed someone they could trust to find you before the Eye did. I fit the bill.”

[vargaslovinghours]

And never let you go ♥

Bonus without the overspill lighting:

[oh-meow-swirls]

i think this was funnier in my head.

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[harleiquina]

Hey! I'm late for the party (because being overworked and underpaid sucks and always ends up in burnout -not fully recovered as of now, just with spare time because its Christmas, I'm working and nobody is calling so I can delve in Tumblr as much as my heart desires-).

First of all... I wrote my original reply around 2 or 3 am because my dog woke me up and I couldn't fall asleep again. So probably I had a point and eventually lead to something else because... sleepy brain goes brr.

About the writing

It is true that between saying it or just leave it out the text, leaving it out of the text is the safer option. There is also the posibility that it was planting an idea that never truly came to be so it is just dangling there with no other purpose... it happened to me a few times that I plant a seed of something in a story and then completely forget about it and sometimes I remember and remove it. I don't know how the time frame and due dates are in the process of creating a comic (if it was written arch per arch or if NG had all planned out and later came up with the different issues) but I guess that is they were going issue per issue -writing, drawing, coloring, formating and eventually printing it- there weren't many options to go back and fix something that didn't worked.

And yes... these were the '90s so... there isn't much to do about it.

In the end of the day, Sandman isn't Hob's story. Maybe there was a chance that if audiences liked him enough there could've been a limited run series of him through time and it didn't happened maybe there was a plan to do so but audiences preffered Death over him (can't blame them). Then the audience could've see him after his meeting with Morpheus and maybe growing a backbone eventually to stop his bussiness with the Slave Trade. We will never know.

Shipping and willingfully-ignorant fans

I'm not into shipping either (I'm not going to deny that in any fandom some edits or fanarts are cute) and in this particular case, even if I understand from where it comes from... I'm so done with it. Maybe if instead of casting the son they would've gone with the father things wouldn't have gone that far 🤣

Mischaracterization is a common phenomena in any fandom, sometimes it could be the main shtick to the plot of one pice of fanfic but when the bee-hive fandom accepts it as official headcanon there is no turning back and you just have to ignore it.

Had fandom had a more accurate-looking Hob they might've reacted differently. I haven't read the comics but I've seen a few panels... and he kind of grosses me out. There is no question there that he was on any easy-way to do money (thief, soldier, slave trader) with little to no remorse. But shippers only see what they want to see and leave any kind of nuance flies out the window.

There are (possibly) many fanfic writers that took Hob's dark past (in general) and did created well grounded stories where he gets to reflect on what he's done and how to atone for it. But fluff is fluff and it gets more views. And I think that's the root of it all... some people just want a cozy coffe-shop AU because they are only in there for the romance, others want to read something that will make them question either the character or themselves, analize how certain events played out or could happen. Pretty much as with movies you have the blockbusters, the historic dramas, the romance and an audience for each one of them.

It might feel like some of them are glossing over a very serious subject that should be treated with respect however there is a different place to tackle those subjects on... hopless romantic fanfics are not the right place.

However there is also those who go full "he did nothing wrong" and this could stem from both options: people who are racist themselves, or people that has no idea of what it being a part of the Slave Trade really means. Given that History is so far back, is easy to "forget" or even imagine the living conditions back then. Of course, those who have grandparents or greatgrandparents that have experienced it in the flesh will not let it fly.

In the end of the day it all depends on whoever is reading. They can be affected by it, shocked, outraged or not... that's how Art works and none of us has the right moral compass to tell others if they should be ashamed or not.

We can tell them to knock it off or at least tag properly, but thats an entirely different can of worms 🤣

Hob Gadling’s Involvement in the Transatlantic Slave Trade between the 16th and 19th Century

The Fallacy of (clumsily written) Racial Reconciliation or: Is show/Hob really different from comics!Hob

I originally wrote this a while back as a reply to someone else’s post, but since we’ve been discussing “Men of Good Fortune” (comics) and “The Sound of Her Wings” (Netflix) in our community over the past weeks, I’ve expanded on a few points of my original thoughts.

This post discusses difficult topics, systemic racism, questions of social (in)justice and problematic angles in writing. If that’s not your thing, this is the exit sign…

A question that comes up quite frequently is the following:

Is show!Hob different from comics!Hob?

Hob’s conversation with Dream in 1789 (and not just 1789) in the show has been significantly altered (compared to the comics), and it makes it tempting to believe this somehow makes him different regarding the more problematic side of his character.

In the comics, we have a bit of dialogue in 1789 that shows how deeply involved in the slave trade Hob was: “I sort of started it,” said with a hint of, dare I say, pride? And then brushing off Dream’s concerns by saying, “It’s a living.” Twice.

(They changed this to, “It’s just how it’s done”, and a shrug in the show.)

And it’s true: If this had been integrated into the show, it would have painted him in an even worse light. However, I personally think it was the wrong move to leave it out (Ferdinand Kingsley carefully voiced something along those lines as well btw). Because now the show pushed Hob’s whole involvement in the slave trade much more into the direction of, “Oopsie.”

Can we truly take leaving out the above dialogue as a hint that Hob might be a better person in the show? I’d like to really reflect on that--leaving out those comments can’t make him a better person. Even if we change his arc slightly and he “wasn’t that involved.” You’re involved, or you aren’t. There is no, “I tried a bit of slave trading and decided it wasn’t for me.” One could even argue it makes the angle of the show more problematic because it makes the slave trade a “little blip” in his timeline. Things like that can’t be a blip. I personally think the writers made a mistake here, but that’s obviously just my opinion.

If there wasn’t enough space in the show to expand on it (which I get for a side character), I feel they should have left out the slavery arc completely instead of keeping, but then minimising it (that might sound contradictory, but it only does if you don’t look at it too closely). It already didn't sit right with me 30 years ago to use slavery as a side note for showing a white person’s character development without properly examining the damage caused, and it still doesn't sit right with me now. It makes the plight of PoC a plot vehicle to centre white people’s guilt, and I always thought that’s a blind spot only white people have (and I’m white myself, to get that out of the road straightaway).

I’m not saying it couldn’t or shouldn’t have been used narratively. Or that you can’t show remorse and atonement/redemption for the most heinous acts (that’s not the same as forgiveness—I’ll get to that). Or that characters who have committed said acts are irredeemable. But it would have needed to be fleshed out instead of making it a comment in passing. Many books and movies do exactly that. But the point is that it’s never been fleshed out.

“But they had to shorten and streamline it…”—just no. Because to me (and ofc people are free to disagree), that exactly proves the point—centring the white guy while sidelining the people who suffer. I am a bit doubtful we’ll get anything remotely appropriate in the show after what we’ve already seen. Only time will tell, so I’m withholding final judgment at this point. Fact is: It is uncomfortable to watch for people with any sensitivity on the matter.

And yet, there is a lot of focus on leaving out Hob voicing his regret in 1889, since that (again) “would have painted him in a better light.”

While simultaneously regularly failing to mention that he proudly proclaimed he “invented” the triangle trade. Can we really pick and choose his traits like that? Hob is a materialistic opportunist who also has some regrets. That doesn’t mean he can’t exist as a character, or that we’re not allowed to like him (morally grey characters are often the most compelling ones). We don’t need to sanitise him though, or try to erase his problematic traits from canon. The same goes for other characters (yes, I’m looking at you, Dream, and I’m sure we’ll get to that very soon—in fact, we’re possibly starting tomorrow 🫣). If we are talking about Hob’s remorse, we are probably mostly thinking about Sunday Mourning, so I need to bring in issue #73 at this point (this is your spoiler warning if you don’t want to read ahead).

The Fallacy of Racial Reconciliation

Very plainly:

A black woman is used as a vehicle to forgive Hob. And said black woman has been written by a white male author for that sole purpose without giving her anything else to do. I personally think NG got that wrong. It was clumsy and insensitive to POC, and I really hope they change this for the show. It’s a fact that he really wasn’t good with writing black female characters in the whole run—they all get fridged in one way or another, and he even admits it in the Sandman Companion. And then turns around and basically implies that it's all okay now because “nothing bad” happens to Gwen once Morpheus is dead. She is allowed to be a vehicle for the character development of a white guy though. It’s just really insensitive, and I sincerely hope they don't put it in the show this way. And I’m glad that we're seeing hints it might not happen--at least the casting in the show hints at it (from Lucienne, Death and Rose to very likely turning Carla into a white man—we already met Carl, and that’s who he is IMHO).

There is also the not so small fact that Hob is, even in his guilt and shame (shame is always about yourself, and that’s actually very in keeping with his character), not honest with Gwen. The thing about him basically inventing the triangle trade, which he so proudly proclaimed in 1789?

The English who were so good at it? The “Jack” Hawkins he talked about in 1789? That’s actually this dude:

And Hob funded him 200 years before 1789, and enabled Hawkins. Hob was involved in what became the transatlantic slave trade well before 1789–he already funded it when he had money in the 1500s.

He carried that mindset around with him for literal hundreds of years and saw nothing wrong with it until at least (! more about that in a sec) 1789. Dream had to rub his nose in it, otherwise it wouldn’t even have occurred to him (or did it, and he just chose to ignore it--see below).

Hob has been written as a stand-in for humanity, British Imperialism and England over the centuries—with all that entails.

So how honest is he with Gwen? And how long, even after 1789, was he still involved, even after abolition in England (Somerset vs. Stewart declared slavery unlawful in England in 1772, but that wasn't true for the rest of the British Empire. Buying and selling slaves was only made illegal in 1807, while owning slaves only became unlawful with the Abolition Act of 1833, and it took another year to buy out slave owners to actually make it happen)? Because there’s still this:

“It got worse when they did [outlaw the slave trade]. You only needed one voyage in three to make a profit. You could afford to dump your cargo if… you spotted a British Man o’ War.” How does he know? Why does he have these nightmares? We can take a guess…

That’s not someone who tried it for a couple of weeks and then thought, “Sorry, my bad.” That’s someone who has been opportunistically involved from the 1500s and potentially until after slavery was unlawful in England, which it already was when he talked to Dream in 1789. So does his feigned ignorance of, "It's a living/It's how it's done?" really hold? Especially if he potentially kept going, even after that convo with Dream? When I wrote "between the 16th and 19th Century" in the header, that's exactly what I meant...

Guilt and Shame

Yes, what we see above and in all the other panels is guilt and shame. And it reminded me of this:

And I’d encourage everyone to really listen to what Jasper has to say, and sit with the feelings it brings up. Because I can still remember watching this in the George Floyd aftermath for the first time, and how deeply uncomfortable it made me—because he’s right.

Black people/PoC do not need to forgive and absolve white people from their guilt. They can if they wish to, but that’s their choice, not ours. It’s not for white people to absolve other white people from their guilt around the oppression of PoC. And that’s why it could be argued it’s not for white people to write a black character to do that in their stead either (they can of course, but then they need to live with the fact that people will call them tone-deaf). It could also be argued it is something that cannot be forgiven retrospectively, and white people need to be okay with that. It can only be worked on in the present with a view to the future. And as Jasper also so rightly points out:

The guilt is not even helpful (at least Gwen has the right sentiment there, but it’s still falls incredibly flat over all), and shame only centres ourselves.

Forgiveness vs Redemption

Hob Gadling's regrets don't make everything he did forgivable. I think it actually does the story a disservice if that’s our main takeaway, because this is truly one of the bits of The Sandman that’s written in an extremely tone-deaf manner. NG isn’t the first author who did this, but we can take something good and helpful from this, and that’s engaging with these questions instead of brushing them under the carpet—because that’s what literary analysis is about.

It should be clear that I do see Hob Gadling as narratively important because I see him as a stand-in for humanity, and more specifically, English history. And there is really so much to learn from that.

Writers can get things narratively right but still be emotionally tone-deaf due to their own blind-spots. We don’t need to assume malice, but we also don’t need to leave it entirely unchallenged.

And because of that, we can certainly see Hob as someone who has to live with his conscience, and the consequences of his actions, for the rest of his life and struggles with that (as he should). And maybe we can see him as someone who is now, finally, trying to do the work. Because that is what atonement and redemption actually mean:

Taking action to rectify past wrongs. Actively working against the harm once caused, and preventing it from ever happening again. And I hope that’s what he does, and the signs are there (but there are also still signs that he values covering up his immortality higher than e.g. telling Gwen the truth. And we can find a million excuses for why that is, but ultimately, none of them truly matter).

However, it is not the same as forgiveness from the people we have wronged. Forgiveness is not a prerequisite to redemption, although it can be a part of it if the person who has been wronged chooses to extend it. But the people Hob wronged are dead, while their descendants still need to live with the pain people like Hob caused to this very day. So while I don’t see him as irredeemable, I don’t think he needs to, or even can, be forgiven—especially not by black people (unless they choose to. But it is also fine if they don’t, and again, we need to be okay with that). And we could say, “But Gwen chose to.” To that, I say:

I wonder what Gwen would have said if he had been truly honest with her (which he wasn’t, see below panels). That wouldn’t have been an embrace is my guess…

[strike-9]

saw a post on here about making friends as an adult and i feel conflicted cuz like, overall i agree that all you have to do is get the courage to show up and get the ball rolling by talking to people/getting their numbers even if it feels cringe or 'wrong' to do so however i can't help but raise my eyebrow at the 'act like they're already your friend' part because some people lean way to into that to the point where they forget we're not actually friends yet which inevitably leads to them saying/doing something that's pretty out of line so like. yes put yourself out there, talk to them and get to know them but please remember that people need to actually like, warm up to each other which could take weeks of speaking to them regularly at minimum

[montanabohemian]

so yesterday i had someone comment on a post i made on IG telling me how "offended" they were because i'd simply ended my post with the phrase "end the occupation and free palestine." so much of what they said was actually insane racist islamophobic bullshit and they managed to end their comment by calling all muslims terrorists and literally parroted the "they want to kill americans" fucking horseshit.

the person that made this comment was by someone i've literally known since grade school. i'm not close friends with them but i've gotten to know them over the years and never once thought they'd say anything like this. i actually thought it was a bot account for like a full minute.

i'm sadly not surprised at the rhetoric because that's where we are. we're right back to twenty years ago during the post 9/11 / war in iraq / war on terror fervor kicked off. i'm just. i had to fight this shit twenty years ago and here we are all over again, except this time with the added benefit of fucking social media.

if simply saying "free palestine" is so inflammatory for you, then that is your fucking problem to work through.

[warriorprincesstramp]

guy who didn't take their stop getting panicked and freaking out at everything and having unbearable heart palpitations and being unable to sleep pill voice guess who's feeling panicked and won't stop freaking out at everything and is having unbearable heart palpitations and can't sleep!! el oh el!

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[bonestrouslingbones]

ohhh polyruses possessed me for a minute. thats what that was

[wazzuppy]

tags from @empty-blog-for-lurking

another voltron meme for you. i love allura, she deserved so much better than the ending she got