#i rewrote it like four times tbh

[starbandit]

hii so i've been looking for a brothers best friend au for beomgyu and there aren't many so i just wanted to come in a request one if you have the time!! tysm!

omg anon, i just remembered that Keepin' Secrets was a request

[benjineedssleep]

late dawns, early sunsets (sambastian zombie apocalypse au whump)

CHAPTER 6 <3

yo yo yo! i finally finished chapter six! i know it hasn't actually been that long since the last update but it feels that way with how much i've worked and reworked it. i literally rewrote the first ~600 words four times in four separate ways. shit was CRAZY-- but it's here! and it's the happiest one yet! tbh it's more bittersweet than anything but with the plans i have for the next and final chapter... y'all better eat this up like it's gourmet HAHA XD

anyways here's your silly goofy excerpt from the longest chapter yet! (it's about 4k words long!!!)

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His speech was something of a jumbled mess; half weep, half excited scream. But he didn’t cry, no he didn’t. Too many emotions, too many thoughts, too many things going on in his brain for that.

“Alright, relax.” Sebastian’s words were smooth, pace slow as he made his way back toward Sam. When he scooped his hand up, intertwined their fingers like they’d done it a million times before, Sam felt the safety really hit him. And then he was breathing. In, out, feeling his heart beat in his chest, feeling Sebastian rub his thumb along the side of his hand. He was okay, they were okay. For a minute, a second, this exact moment in time.

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augh. tumblr is still being fucky with links and i wanna post this so pretend this is an embed LOLOL

[seaweedstarshine]

So, something that always got me conflicted- at least until recently where to be frank I'm too exhausted to care ( 2 jobs would do that to ya) is me being a kind of mono-shipper in DW Fandom. Like I do like other ships for the Doctor- like the Doctor with Rose, or Clara or the Master- but except with the Master and Martha where i think of scenarios for them-I mostly like these ships in regards to the impact they had on the Doctor- characteristization wise.

Tbh, I mostly ship him with River- surprise surprise, lol. I think it's because of the intrinsic tragedy with them. Also, because I imprinted in River- whoops.

I think with River and the Doctor- especially if you take the audios as Canon ( and I do take some of them as Canon in my head but not all)- we keep having these instances of how their life could be. Ex- with River and Four and them knowing each other all their lives. Or Nine and River- caring and watching each other grow old- reaching an understanding and being valunarble with each other ( something that is helped with River being a bit younger in the boxset. At least in my opinion. Would it be OK if I send you a ramble ask about the difference between Older!River and younger!River in my head?)

But, yeah- fate said otherwise for these two- their story is what it is and I think that's make me like it so much. Because it could have gone differently, they could have rewrote time, but over and over they chose this life. They chose each other- no matter how much it hurt.

But at the same time- the pessimistic, analytic part of me kept thinking of the fact that even of River chose that life with Four or Nine for example- they both came with too much cost. With Four, countless planets were destroyed including planet Earth. River lost friends and her family and now she probably has the guilt of all those deaths on her hearts. And the Doctor too would have ended suffering. And with Nine- well, they wouldn't have been able to be together even if they wanted to- the paradox would have been too big.

I'm kind of thankful River doesn't remember that timeline tbh- cause it probably would have been bittersweet for her- more bitter than sweet.

Still. Thank you for reading all this. I had a point but it's a bit too scattered for me to remember. Have a lovely day 😘 😊 ☺️

Hi!!! Sorry if you don’t see this (what with not getting notifs on anon, and it’s been waaaay too many months to still be checking my blog to see if I’d responded), but!! Thank you for the wonderful ramble ask! I loved reading it!

While I am somewhat of a multishipper (okay, mostly for yowzah and thoschei also), I heavily relate to more enjoying certain ships from the context of the character impacts, more so than actually (passionately, emotional-investment-wise) shipping them. I love to peer at these lil characters under that more detached analysis microscope and study how each of these relationships crash and burn. For the angst! Because I love them.

*I, too, see audios I like as canon (Missy+Monk) and ignore the ones I dislike (the Lumiat)!

Oh, those audios with earlier Doctors do add a lot to the time-tangled nature of the Doctor and River's star-crossed (heh) marriage (make it even messier, bloodier, tragic-er).

Yeah, like?? From the start. The Doctor does view most people he keeps closest like pets, because it’s safer to have that dynamic — but River never lets him view her in that way, because she knows his name, she's got more information than he does — and yet he goes against everything that's familiar to him, and decides to trust her, and learn more about her (leaving the diary, to embark on a future he has yet to live). Likewise River does see the Doctor for the dangerous, ancient beast he is — and starts out intent to kill him for it, because her whole life was orchestrated for her to hate him and bring him down — but he's also kind, and yet she goes against everything that familiar to her, and decides to save him, and learn more about him (right now it's off to archeology school!). They both take risks for each other from the jump, go against some crucial drive of themselves the day they meet each other — and as they come to know and love the other, the risks keep getting bigger and bigger and bigger (until the universe begins to quake).

Yes, the way they are tragedy is an inspiring way, and they fought for their love, against time itself…

That’s what makes the lifetimes River spends with Nine or Four as you said — or even that boxset where she travels with Five for a minute — so fitting, conceptually? Even if the show wasn’t written with pre-ten Doctors in mind. As the Doctor and River fight Time itself to be with each other, time can’t help but give them glimpses of what they could’ve had, in another life.

[there’s probably something to say here about the conception of Time that we see in Flux, but I’m not sure I’ve got it right now]

And the pessimistic, analytic part of you, is — yeah. They both fight for a future they want and can’t have. Time wouldn’t survive their happiness. (Do you know The Four Doctors comic? The Doctors are caught by timelines in choices each of them almost made, and although we don’t spend long in that universe, for the Eleventh Doctor, it’s the Wedding of River Song timeline. He had almost decided to let time die to be “linear” with River. That comic tells us Eleven was SERIOUSLY CONSIDERING IT. He almost let time die around them to live with his wife.)

I am also glad River didn't remember her future with Nine to be honest, it would be too much to give up 😮‍💨

Anyways! There was some rambling from me! I don’t know if you still want to send a ramble ask about the difference between Older!River and younger!River in your head, after this amount of time, but I love ramble asks about River and the Doctor!!! ^-^

Thank you for your patience and for the ask 💕

[quotidian-oblivion]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Oh hiii! Thank you so much for the ask. It's delighting to receive (especially since I am obsessed with your 'Hydrogen Peroxide' fic, like- soft baby batboys? I adore)

My School's Local Mafia Boss I love it so much because just- the idea started out as a rant in the middle of the night about how Tim would absolutely take control of his school through blackmail. I also just love the character progression and character relationship progression too! Like- I was (still am) new to writing full-length stories which are novel-length and just- yeah.

Sometimes You Have To Find Your Own Genes This was my first multi-chapter fic. And it's novel-length.

I Feel More Than A Simple "Miss You" This fic. Let me tell you. This. Fic. Nearly all of the sentences rhyme. I didn't put it in poem order cuz I wanted it to be a narrative rather than a poem sort of thing. Tbh it'll sound more glorious if it's a podfic. But I can't put my voice out, so it stays that way. I'm proud of it though. Cuz like- nearly every sentence rhymes.

Can You Deduce Where I Am Now? I redid the plot like four times. No lie. I redid the plot four times and rewrote it twice. Until... this masterpiece was born. Full of hurt, pain, and love. I am very proud of it.

Phone Alarms GUYS! I genuinely thought that this wasn't that funny! But then apparently I killed people in the comment section with it (metaphorically) so *shrugs* I like it!

I'm also very proud of two of the fics I've written but I haven't posted. One of them's called 'Somebody Else's Magic' and the other shall remain unnamed for now. But I'm very proud of both of them. Especially since the unnamed one's plot has been rewritten five times (no lie). It's the last fic in the ongoing series and I wanted it to be perfect. And it is!

[crystalsblogcorner]

I rewrote my first ever fanfic ‘A Friendly Danger’ because tbh I didn’t like it that much, but I really love how this turned out and I hope you all do to enjoy!

Words: 2849

Tw: body horror, depictions of syringes/pills/medication

A Friendly Danger (Rewritten)

Crystal, a tiny four-inch human with a mouse tail and ears, had become quite adept at navigating the world of giants. Her curiosity had led her to the grand library of the castle of the royal family, where she often found refuge in the vast sea of books. The scent of dusty pages and aged leather filled the air, offering a comfort that the towering corridors outside could not.

One evening, as Mark, the six-foot-two prince with a cat tail and ears, read to her from a particularly large book, she cozied up against his shoulder. "Why do they call the dragon a monster?" she asked, her voice as soft as the flutter of a butterfly's wings.

Mark paused, looking down at the page before responding, "The dragon destroyed a village and took the princess. It's said that it ate her."

Crystal's bright eyes grew wide with shock. "But why would it do that?"

Mark shrugged, his furry ears twitching slightly. "Dragons are predators. They need to eat to survive."

Crystal nodded, considering his words. "But the village had food, didn't they?"

"Certainly," Mark said, stroking his chin, "but humans and dragons have had a tumultuous history. Sometimes, their paths cross in unfortunate ways."

Crystal's curiosity remained unquenched. "Is there a way to change that?"

Mark closed the book with a gentle thud. "Some say that understanding can lead to peace. Others believe that dragons are simply too wild to be tamed." He sighed, his tail swishing behind him. "But that's a story for another time."

The candles on the nightstand flickered as they burned low, casting shadows across the room. Crystal yawned, her tiny hand resting on the plush fabric of Mark's nightshirt. "Okay," she said sleepily, "but promise me we'll talk more about it tomorrow."

Mark nodded, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "I promise," he said, his voice a gentle rumble.

As the moon climbed the sky, casting silvery beams through the castle windows, Crystal curled up on her makeshift bed of rolled-up socks, her thoughts swirling with tales of dragons and heroes. Mark's deep, rhythmic breathing soon filled the room, hinting at his descent into sleep. But unbeknownst to Crystal, his slumber was plagued by nightmares of his own nature—his family's dark secret. The whispers of his ancestors grew louder in his dreams, urging him to embrace the power that lay dormant within him. Mark's eyes snapped open, his heart racing. He sat up in bed, his breaths shallow and his fur standing on end. His reflection in the moonlit mirror revealed his pupils dilating into thin slits, the whites of his eyes filling with the dreaded black liquid. He knew what was coming—the transformation he had worked so hard to suppress.

Panic gripped him as he scrambled to the bathroom, seeing the empty pill bottle on the bathroom counter. "No," he murmured, the word barely audible as his teeth began to elongate into fangs. The guards had warned him of the consequences of missing a dose, but he had been so focused on Crystal and finding a way to help her regain her normal height she lost after eating a magical fruit that he had forgotten. The transformation was already beginning. His muscles tensed and shifted, his legs bending in unnatural ways as they morphed into a sleek, powerful feline form. The pain was excruciating, but Mark had felt it before—a stark reminder of the curse that plagued his animalistic side of hybrids. He didn't want Crystal to see him like this, didn't want her to fear him. With trembling hands, he managed to lock the bathroom door, hoping to keep her safe.

Crystal, however, had heard the commotion. Her heart pounded in her chest as she called out to Mark, her voice echoing through the stillness of the night. When she received no answer, she grew concerned. Venturing out from her bed of socks, she approached the bathroom door and knocked gently. "Mark? Are you okay?"

Crystal's concern grew into fear as she heard the unmistakable sound of wood splintering. Mark's voice, now a feral growl, called back, "I'm fine. Stay out."

Ignoring his warning, she crawled under the door, her heart racing. The sight before her was like nothing she had ever seen. Mark, the gentle giant who had taken her in and protected her, now had the gleaming eyes of a predator, his body a terrifying amalgamation of man and beast. She took a step back, her eyes wide with horror. Mark's eyes darted to her, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of the person she knew. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the cold, calculating gaze of a creature driven by instinct. With a snarl, he lunged, his new feline body moving with a grace that defied his size. Crystal screamed, her nimble body surrying under the door in an instant.

The chase was on. Mark's powerful new legs propelled him across the room, his claws slicing through the thick carpet with ease. Crystal darted from one piece of furniture to another, her heart racing as she tried to outsmart the creature that had once been her friend. She knew Mark wouldn't hurt her, but she couldn't be sure of this...this thing. Terrified, she dashed under the bed, her tiny frame slipping into the tight space with surprising agility. Mark's shadow loomed over the bed, his clawed hand reaching under, swiping through the dust bunnies with a ferocity that sent shivers down her spine. He was playing with her, she realized—a cat with a mouse.

"Please, Mark," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It's me, Crystal."

The creature paused, its hand hovering just above her. There was a moment of stillness, a glimmer of recognition in its eyes, and Crystal felt a sliver of hope. But the moment was fleeting, the monster's pupils dilating again, and it swiped at her with lightning speed. Crystal barely had time to react, her heart racing as she rolled out of the way, her mouse tail brushing against the cold floorboards. From outside the room, the sound of running footsteps grew louder. The castle guards had been alerted by the commotion, and they burst through the door, their swords drawn. Crystal watched in horror as they approached Mark, who had backed himself into a corner, his eyes shimmered like onyx with a purple glowing slit in the center.

The guards didn't hesitate. One of them, a stoic man with a scar running down his cheek, grabbed Mark's shoulders and held him down. Another guard pulled out a syringe filled with a luminescent serum, his hand shaking slightly. "It's okay, Your Highness," he said, his voice strained. "This will help."

Mark's snarls grew more feral as the needle pierced his skin, but the serum worked almost instantaneously. His body began to convulse, the fur and claws retreating back into his human form. The purple glow in his eyes receded, leaving behind a look of anguish and despair. Crystal watched from the safety of the shadows, her heart aching for the pain Mark was experiencing. As the guards released their grip, Mark slumped to the floor, panting heavily.

Crystal, still under the bed, watched the transformation with a mix of horror and sadness. She had never seen Mark like this before, never knew the depth of his struggle. The guards, now at ease, helped Mark to his feet. "You must take these pills," the scarred guard said firmly, holding out a fresh bottle. "We can't have you losing control like that again."

Mark nodded, his human features returning to their usual calm demeanor. He took the bottle, his eyes meeting Crystal's from under the bed. "I'm sorry," he murmured, the weight of his secret heavy in his voice. The guards leave the room as fast as they came in, and once the door shut mark called out to crystal, "crystal?"

Her voice was shaky as she responded, "I'm here."

Mark sighed in relief, his hand reaching under the bed to gently coax her out. "You should go back to sleep," he said, his voice hoarse from the transformation. "It's okay now."

Crystal hesitated, her eyes scanning Mark's body for any signs of danger. Satisfied that he was indeed back to normal, she scurried out, her mouse tail quivering. "What was that?" she asked, her voice still laced with fear.

Mark sat heavily on the edge of the bed, his cat tail swishing behind him. "It's a... a part of me," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "A part I try to keep hidden."

Crystal crawled up onto the bed, her eyes never leaving Mark's. "What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath, his human hand trembling slightly. "I'm not just a prince with a tail," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a hybrid, like you, but my other half is... something darker."

Crystal listened intently, her small frame curled up on the bed next to him. "What do you mean?"

Mark took a deep breath, his eyes reflecting the weight of his words. "My ancestors," he began, "were involved in a pact with dark forces to protect the kingdom. In return, some of us are born with... with this curse."

Crystal's eyes widened. "A curse?"

Mark nodded solemnly. "A drake's blood runs through my family's veins. It's why my eyes turn black and I get these...urges."

Crystal's curiosity was piqued, but she could see the pain in Mark's eyes. She scooted closer, placing a tiny hand on his arm. "Is there a way to change it?"

Mark sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. "There are pills," he said, holding up the bottle the guard had given him. "They help me control it. Without them..." He trailed off, his voice heavy with the unspoken horror of what could happen.

Crystal looked at the pills, then back at Mark. "But what if they don't work one day?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Mark's eyes searched hers, his tail swishing restlessly. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he said, trying to sound more reassuring than he felt. "For now, let's just get some rest."

But rest was elusive for Crystal. Her mind raced with questions about Mark's condition, the pills, and the dark pact that had been made. What if one day the pills didn't work? What would happen to Mark?

The next few days were tense. Mark tried to act normal, but Crystal could see the strain in his eyes, the way he would tense up whenever someone mentioned dragons or the history of the kingdom. He avoided her questions, instead focusing his efforts on their shared quest to find a way to return her to her original size. Yet, the shadows of doubt lingered in the air, thick as the dust motes that danced in the sunbeams that filtered through the library windows. One afternoon, as they pored over ancient tomes and scrolls, Crystal's tiny finger brushed against a peculiar symbol etched into the corner of a page. It was a stylized image of a drake and a cat locked in an intricate dance, surrounded by unfamiliar runes. Mark's eyes snapped to the symbol, his breath catching in his throat.

"What is it?" Crystal asked, her curiosity piqued by his reaction.

Mark's gaze remained glued to the page, his furry ears laid back in an unspoken warning. "It's an old family emblem," he said slowly, his voice tight. "A reminder of the pact."

Crystal studied the image, her mind racing. "Could it be connected to the fruit that shrank me?"

Mark took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving the page. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice tight with tension. "But we should keep looking."

They spent hours in the library, searching for any clue that might lead them to a way to reverse Crystal's transformation. The silence was occasionally broken by the rustle of parchment and the occasional sigh of frustration. Mark's mind kept drifting back to the night of his change, the fear in Crystal's eyes, and the guilt that now gnawed at him like a persistent itch.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the room, Crystal's eyes lit up. "Look at this!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. She stood on a dusty tome, her tiny finger pointing to an illustration of a fruit remarkably similar to the one she had eaten.

Mark looked at the book, his heart racing as he scanned the page. The fruit was surrounded by the same mystical runes that adorned the emblem of his family's pact. Could it be a coincidence? Or was their fate intertwined in a way they hadn't anticipated? He read aloud the text that accompanied the illustration, his voice low and measured. "The Fruit of Alteration, a rare and powerful artifact of the ancients, holds the ability to transform those who consume it. Its effects, however, are unpredictable, and often come with a price."

Crystal's eyes grew wide. "Could this be it?" she whispered.

Mark nodded solemnly. "It's definitely worth investigating," he said, his eyes scanning the page for more information. "But we must be careful. These fruits are not to be trifled with."

The following days saw Mark and Crystal delving deeper into the castle's archives, seeking any information on the Fruit of Alteration. They discovered that the fruit had been grown from the seeds of a mystical tree, one that had been planted by the first hybrid ruler of the kingdom in an attempt to bridge the gap between humans and the animal world. The tree had since withered away, leaving behind only the legend of its powerful fruit. Mark's mind raced with possibilities. Could they somehow find another fruit, or perhaps a way to reverse the transformation? His determination grew with each page they turned, driven by his desire to help Crystal and his own fear of losing control again.

Their search led them to the castle's greenhouse, a vast chamber filled with exotic plants and trees. It was here that the royal family had once cultivated the mystical tree. The air was thick with the scent of soil and blooming flowers, and the sound of dripping water echoed through the space. Crystal's heart raced as Mark pointed out the spot where the tree had once stood, now a barren patch of earth surrounded by a ring of withered vines. "This is where it was," he said, his voice hushed with reverence. "But the tree is long gone."

They searched the greenhouse high and low, digging through soil and examining every inch of the decayed area. It was a fruitless endeavor, but they didn't give up. Each night, Mark would take his pills and try to sleep, his dreams haunted by the fear of losing control again. Crystal, ever vigilant, would keep watch from her bed of rolled-up socks, her tiny body tense with worry. The next day rolled around, and Mark suggested they take a break from their investigations. "We've been at this for days," he said, his voice gentle. "We need to rest our minds, maybe even have a little fun." Crystal nodded, her eyes still filled with questions but understanding the need for a reprieve.

They decided to play tic tac toe on a piece of parchment, using a tiny stick of charcoal that Crystal had found in the library. Mark used a feather to draw the grid, and Crystal's nimble fingers placed the x's and o's with surprising precision. Despite his best efforts, Mark found himself losing to Crystal's clever strategy. She giggled with each victory, her mouse tail flicking with excitement. The tension of their recent discoveries momentarily forgotten, they moved on to a game of hide and seek. Mark's feline instincts made it easy for him to find the perfect hiding spots, but Crystal's size advantage allowed her to slip into the most unnoticeable nooks and crannies. Her squeaks of delight echoed through the library when she emerged from behind a bookshelf, having eluded Mark once again.

As they played, the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the floor. The warm, golden light painted the dusty tomes in a soft glow, and the candles flickered to life as the room grew dimmer. Mark chuckled as he watched Crystal scurry around, her tail a blur as she darted from one hiding spot to the next. The sound of their laughter filled the room, a stark contrast to the dark secrets that lurked within the castle's walls. They continued their games, the hours slipping by unnoticed. Finally, as the last light of the day disappeared beyond the horizon, Mark found Crystal curled up in a teacup, her giggles giving her away. He reached in, his clawed hand gentle as he scooped her out, and she squealed in delight. As he held her up in victory, a low, rumbling growl resonated through the castle, shaking the very foundation beneath them.

The sound was unmistakable—a drake's roar.

[unolvrs]

how do you add that 'punch in the gut' kind of emotion to your fics? i know how i want my scenes to feel but i can never get the emotion across like you do

<3

my golden four in writing punch to the gut scenes are: italics, repetition, references, and simplicity. but ngl, you can exclude references from there but they really do help. (i just wrote sm things explaining each part in detail but it wasn't saved and i lost my mind right then and there. so i'm going to do a brief explanation instead.)

btw this is long...

repetition

repeat concepts, then conclude with a one-liner.

example: in one of my works, abalone on the shore, the main character is a certain child's mother, more a guardian though than an actual mother; the child never calls the main character mother and it's not considered a problem because it just is that way. but the concept of the main character being the child's mother is repeated, recycled, referenced over and over and over again so when the child finally calls the mc "mom", it hits different. it slaps you across the face.

small detail > bring up later

example: the main character says "i like yogurt with blueberries" in the middle of what looks to be a filler paragraph. and then later on, another character (hits different when it's a love interest and maybe at the end of the chapter) brings it up, "A-ko looks at plate B-ko left on the table: yogurt with blueberries."

repeat paragraphs / phrases

example: “It’s not her fault. Nor the village’s even though they could have helped, could have done something, could have done more.” (begonia, begonia) the repetition of could have adds a sense of urgency and turns the original idea into something 'more' but in a way that mimics how a person thinks and spirals.

as for the paragraphs, it's just as stated. repeat paragraphs tha you consider as the urgent and important elements of the story.

italicized

i think we all know how this works:

italicized words give emphasis and a bit of artistry in someone's writing, imo. the thing about italics is that you can literally abuse the hell out of it: emphasis, sense of dilemma, etc. and it looks good too. i think the main difference between italicized and bold words is that italicized words don't look as jarring to read through than bold ones. bold words sometimes just snap at you but i think italicized ones are more gentle in its delivery? gentle but it gets you there.

simplicity

this is a more personal writing style, tbh. like i said lots of times, i use simple words so that i could be easily digested and understood!

imo, if something is written in a complicated way or if "big" words are used, it's much harder to be understood? i think if i'm reading something i'm very into and i'm very immersed to, and then i encounter a word i have no idea what the meaning of is, the immersion ends. it can either go that way or i'm going to be so impressed because i have no idea what it means and i would want to use it in a sentence one day.

references

another personal preferences! in this case, it prioritizes comparison.

example from among dawn flowers (the face of god) : this is an introduction to one of the first encounters of the main character and the love interest. something to take note of is this culture of the characters and in this case, they're japanese and more traditional than most.

or you can use more common references, ones that will be easily recognized. maybe flower languages, greek myths, fairy tales, movies, books, etc.

this concludes this very, very long explanation. i rewrote this like four different times because it didn't get saved... anyway, hope this helps. (i hope it does i'm gonna cry.)

[sydnycvwrtes]

congratulations on getting an agent! that’s amazing 🎉 do you mind sharing your querying journey (what was it all like? when you started, how many queries you sent, how many full requests, and other stats? things you expected about querying? things you didn’t expect? lessons you learned? etc?)? just whatever you feel like sharing 😊

Yes!

So tbh I feel like I both had an easier but longer journey. I didn't send too too many queries (in contrast to some folks) but I was querying for a long time. I started when I was 18 for reference, so I queried for almost four years exactly (3 years and 352 days lol) but I took long pauses to overhaul the novel between query batches based on any feed back I'd gotten. I sent queries in batches of 4-6 and didn't send more until I'd gotten responses from everyone from one batch.

So:

33 queries sent (I resent edited queries to the same agents 4 times which feels a little 🧍🏿‍♀️)

6 partial requests (quick bit of advice: different agents have different specific ways they want you submit. It might be annoying to reformat everything, but just do it)

4 full requests (and let me tell you, when I sent fulls to "famous" agents, I was waiting for upwards of half a year, which can also account for the time gap)

1 offer of rep (woohoo!!!!) from an agent I feel really understands my vision for the book, and will be a great representative for me when sub time comes. For revisions, I'm not having to change any plot points, just explain a little bit more stuff so they're not too grueling. Plus I write super fast and that helps lol.

I think querying for so long definitely toughened me up. I was really expecting for the first agent I queried, who I considered a dream agent at the time, to adore my book, sign me immediately, and offer no critiques before we went on sub for three seconds and scored a billion dollar deal (and I queried her TWICE because I was just that hooked up on it lmao). As you can see, that didn't happen. I got some rejections after months, and some after only a few hours. And at the begining? Oh they HURT. They hurt BAD.

And then you get another and another and another, and the sting lessens over time.

I became a lot better at being critical of myself, which I feel like is the most important skill in querying- understanding that you are going to have to make heavy edits, kill your darlings, and just overall refine you book in ways you didn't see before. Even the version I sent to the agent I signed with was far from perfect, and I'm making revisions. And that's okay. It's a step to getting published.

It... Was hard. I had a friend tell me it was just not the right time for my book and to shelve it. I think that hurt more than a rejection. But I knew I wanted to be an author, and I knew I wanted to tell these character's stories, so I just kept working. I rewrote my book more times than I can count since I started writing it at 15. It's just all a very long process, and you have to be patient, and you have to KNOW that this is what you want to do and you're going to do it.

Last weird little tidbits of advice:

I had one person read a very old copy of my book. I had no beta readers. I never hired an editor. Don't do what I did. Beta readers can help you so so much. If you can find someone willing, have them help you!!!

Query that agent! I almost didn't query my agent because they said they were a fan of beautiful prose, and I didn't think I had that. But, after mustering the courage, I finally did and look what happened. Just send the query!! The worst they can say is no!!

If you get personalized feedback from a rejection, that is still really helpful. My book is better now mostly because of my rejection feedback because it was all telling me the exact thing to work on. For me, the writing was fine, but I tended to under-explain things. I got that feedback.... A lot. And I was able to fix it and eventually get an agent (woo!)

(even though my revisions are still centered around explaining oops-)

Anyway, I hope this was helpful! I hope I was able to give you a pretty good picture of my querying time! It was... Definately something!

[ackermanbitch]

i’m a very anxious bean at the moment and would love some din fluff. Maybe something where reader has a panic attack and he calms her down and holds her :’) 💕 that’s my dream at the moment tbh

sorry youre dealing with some anxiety, that shit blows :( and im sorry i answered this so so late <33 i rewrote it like four times- also im sorry if this is angstier than you wanted, i cant write abt a panic attack in a super fluffy way sbhsbvwj

din djarin x gn!reader (anxiety comfort)

warnings: depiction of an anxiety attack, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending, honestly more reader crying alone than din im sorry hsbhud

(this is pre-grogu btw)

You paced the hold of the Razor Crest, arms wrapped around your stomach.

He said five days. Two days to get to the bounty, one day to catch him and two days to get back. That's five days. It's been seven. You know somewhere in the back of your mind that he's most likely fine, just late. He's strong and he's smart and one of the best damn bounty hunters there are but he's just a person.

A person covered in beskar.

Also a person with weak points.

You brought your palms to push against your eyes, some weak attempts to stop the tears that were already rolling down your face. You stopped your pacing, your breath picking up fast and blood rushing in your ears.

He's been this late before.

Barely standing on his own two legs and dragging a mauled bounty behind him. You could never get that imagery out of your head, the sight of him collapsing at your feet, the blaster shot that revealed itself when you peeled back the cloth that covered the spots his armor couldn't.

What if he couldn't make it to the Razor Crest this time? What if he was face down in the desert only a few miles away, staining the orange sand a dark red?

You should just get your shit together and go look for him but your feet were glued to the floor, your palms still pressed against your eyes, unrelenting tears flowing down your face from beneath them. Heavy sobs wracked your shoulders as you tried to conjure some logical reasoning as to why he's most likely fine but you just couldn't. You'd convinced yourself he was lying out in that sand, his skin gone cold with life fleeting from those eyes that you'd never even seen.

God, you'd never see his eyes. You never even wanted to until the possibility that you never could presented itself. You fell onto your ass, crying harder with your hands over your mouth instead of your eyes, staring blearily at the ladder leading up to the cockpit. All you could do was sit here and cry while Din might be fighting for his life, you are so pathetic.

That word blared in your mind over and over and over again as you cried on the floor, gasping for breath every few seconds. Your head started to pound from the endless crying, your stomach twisting as well.

A hissing and a clunk sounded behind you, a familiar, comforting noise that signaled the opening of the hatch. You scrambled to your feet, stumbling slightly as Din oh so casually strolled into the Crest, no mauled bounty behind him, no blood pouring from his side.

"What happened?"

"Where's your bounty?"

Your words overlapped but he answered your question first nonetheless, "The client was nearby so I didn't bother with bringing him back just to freeze him in carbonite. What happened?"

Seeing him talk so calmly about something you were just sobbing on the floor about was slightly sobering.

"Nothing- happened. I was just-... it's been seven days. I thought it would only take five." You croaked, your voice cracking on your last word, the utter embarrassment forcing your gaze to his dusty boots.

Din sighed lightly, bringing a gloved hand to the back of your neck and pulling you into his armor clad chest, less pulling and more meeting you in the middle.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled into the space between his pauldron and his neck, "I get so worked up so quickly, and two days is pretty fucking late-"

"I know."

You brought your arms up around his torso, gripping his cape until your knuckles burned. As much as you tried to will them to stop, tears sprung back into your eyes anyway, "Maker, I am so pathetic. You're gone for two-two extra days and I break d-"

"You are not pathetic, you're thinking realistically if anything." He cut you off, one of his hands beginning to run up and down your back in a soothing rhythm. "Even I would get nervous if you were that late."

You stayed silent for a moment, momentarily letting up your death grip on his worn cape. "I really thought something was wrong, Din. That.. I don't know, it was so dumb." You cried, every thought of him lying dead in the sand flooding your head once more.

He gently pulled your head from its place on his shoulder, instead bringing his helmet to rest against your forehead. "I'm okay, cyar'ika. I promise." He held one hand against the back of your head, another on your bicep. "I'll give updates next time, okay?"

You frowned slightly, pulling back. "Or I could just... go with you?" You smiled hopefully, "On every hunt, not just some of th-"

"You're pushing it."

You laughed tearily, pushing a hand against his helmet to escape from his embrace but his arms didn't let up, pulling you back against his front.

"And I thought I missed you." You muttered, not minding this side of Din one bit.

[thinksideways]

Hamburr with 12 “What are you thinking about?”

12. What are you thinking about?

Aaron feels like the odd one out as he steps across the sand to the bonfire. The party’s raging already, voices loud and raucous over the crackle of the fire and crash of the waves. Aaron wonders, for the tenth or hundredth time, if he was invited by mistake, because he was never particularly close to this cohort, and he should probably - no, definitely - turn back, when –

“Aaron! Hey, Aaron!”

Eliza has him in her crosshairs, and she gallops forward across the sand to greet him with a hug made all more enthusiastic by the several beers she’s no doubt already consumed.

“You made it!” she says, then drops her voice, conspiratorial, “Maria owes me $10. She said you’d ignore the invite.”

Aaron’s not sure how to take that, so he smiles tightly, instead. Eliza leads him to the bonfire, then turns toward the blue and battered cooler.

“What do you want? There’s beer - Bud, and some craft stuff Gil brought -  wine, these disgusting fruity things my girlfriend insists on, soda if you’re not a drinker –”

“Beer’s fine. The craft stuff, if it’s okay.”

She hands him the bottle, and he takes a long swig. The beer is hoppy and bitter and Aaron has to struggle not to make a face. He sits down on an overturned bucket, trying to put names to the quasi-familiar faces, and keeps drinking.

*

No one talks to him for fifteen minutes and Burr considers leaving again when someone sits beside him. Eliza again.

“I can’t believe him,” she says, and Aaron wonders if she’s even talking to him - maybe she’s on her phone - and wonders who the him in question is. He glances over. No phone. No one else by her. Must be him.

“Who?” he asks.

“Alex! He practically begs me to invite you, then you show up and he hides away as far as possible like some schoolgirl -” she seems to consider her words, then adds, in a rush, “not that I wouldn’t have invited you, anyway.”

“Thanks,” Aaron mumbles.

“But seriously. He’s being a child. He must really like you, though. Usually I have to drag him off of his crushes.”

Aaron flushes. He’d purposely not looked for Alex when arriving, it felt too obvious, too desperate. He hears Eliza sigh.

“So you like him, too.”

Not a question, so Aaron doesn’t give an answer, but with these kind of things, that’s answer enough.

“Men,” she scoffs.

*

She returns not long after, Alex trailing behind her and a set of car keys dangling from her finger.

“I need you and Alex to run down to the gas station and get more ice. Aaron, you drive. Alex will guide you.”

She tosses Aaron the keys, but he misjudges his catch and they fall with a muffled thunk at his feet. Aaron stares at them for a moment, cheeks blazing, before snagging them and jingling them to shake some of the sand off.

They get in the car and drive in silence, Aaron unsure how to turn the radio on and unwilling to look like a fool stabbing at the buttons. He’s far too aware of Alex in the passenger seat, staring out the window. There’s a strangely pensive look on his face.

“What are you thinking about?” Aaron asks, flipping on his signal and turning into the gas station parking lot. He knew the area, and a guide was pointless. Alex smiles, and finally looks at him.

“That Eliza’s losing her touch.”

“How’s that?”

“She’s usually more subtle about these things.”

“What things?”

Alex lolls his head to the head and fixes Aaron with a look. Then, cautious, he reaches out, traces a finger over Aaron’s arm, making his flesh prickle out into gooseflesh. He laughs a little at that, low, and the Aaron feels the sound of that laughter in the pit of his stomach. It’s devastating.

“Maybe she figured the time for subtlety is over,” Aaron amends, which makes Alex laugh again.

“Maybe it is,” he agrees. There’s a click as he unbuckles his seatbelt, twists closer to Aaron. “Ask me again.”

“Ask you what?”

“What I’m thinking about.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“That I’d like to kiss you.”

Alex quits thinking and starts doing, then, leaning across the rest of the divide, and Aaron meets him. It’s awkward and messy and they’re interrupted by a car pulling up next to them, doors slamming and voices raised a pitch too high. Aaron pulls back, and sees that Alex is smiling.

“Let’s get out of here.”

[hangovercurse]

For the Past Four Years

You and Colson have been friends forever, but when you start getting lessons from a certain drummer, he gets a bit jealous.

Request: Sooo I was just wondering if a jealous!coulson whose your friend would be something you’d like to write? Maybe y/n and yungblud or rook or someone is getting a little too friendly and it makes him angry either fluff or smut would work tbh

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N I am so sorry this took so long! This is the one I was talking about when I said I got to the end and wasn’t feeling it so I rewrote it.

Word Count: 2019

You hated being the only one in the crew who couldn’t go on tour. The travel interfered with your job too much, so you were left alone for months out of the year. But that made it all the better when you could join the tour. You were grateful for the two weeks off you were given while Colson was on the Hotel Diablo tour.

You flew out to their show in Phoenix and planned to stay on the tour bus with them until they got back to LA. The boys were ecstatic to have you around, having known you for almost 4 years. Colson was probably the most excited to see you again, seeing as he had known you the longest.

You were in the green room for the fifth show since you’d join the tour, the energy through the roof. Colson was busy talking with Ashleigh about the show, so you found entertainment in Rook, who was currently tapping away on his practice kit. “Ok, guess this one.”

You were currently trying to figure out what songs he was playing, and you were doing pretty good. He started playing the intro to “You Could Be Mine” by Guns N’ Roses, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. ”Really? It’s like you’re trying to make this easy for me.”

“It’s not my fault you know literally every song ever made.”

“Yeah, but Guns N’ Roses? Obviously, I’m gonna know it.” You smirked and he squinted at you.

“Fine. You’re so good, why don’t you play something and make me guess.” He held out his drumsticks for you to take.

You pouted, “Rookie you know I don’t know how to play drums.”

“I can teach you.” He offered, making your eyes light up.

“Wait, actually?” He nodded, standing up and grabbing another stool.

“C’mere.” He led you around the kit and sat you down, sitting on the stool behind you. He put the drumsticks in your palms and then moved to hold the outside of your hand. “We’ll start with the basics.”

When Colson came back into the room, he saw you and Rook laughing. You were looking back at Rook as his hands were wrapped around yours, a smile on your face. He couldn’t help his heart sinking, and he tried his best to maintain his composure. Luckily, he only had to endure a few more minutes of you guys obviously flirting before everyone had to move to side stage.

You noticed Colson slumped on one of the couches across the room and you sent him a smile. “Rook is teaching me how to play.” You mouthed to him, and he nodded sarcastically.

“Good for you.” He mouthed back, obviously uninterested and upset about something. You raised your eyebrow and tilted your head, silently asking what was wrong. He just shook his head.

“Alright guys, backstage.” Ashleigh announced, and all the boys jumped up.

Rook stood up and you followed, handing him his drumsticks. “We shall continue this later, young grasshopper.” He joked, bowing dramatically. You rolled your eyes and pushed him towards the door of the green room.

“Don’t suck too much.” You smiled, and he turned back to stick his tongue out at you. Colson watched the interaction and it looked like steam would start blowing out of his ears. You bounded over to where he had just stood up. “Good luck hug?” You asked sweetly, a tradition you had started the first time you went backstage before a show.

Instead of answering, he walked right past you, leaving the room. You stared after him, confusion present on your face. You wanted to talk to him about it, but decided it was best to leave it for after the show.

 Colson seemed to be in a better mood on stage and after the show, insisting on partying on the bus. You had no complaints; you loved the endless party that was touring with MGK. Once you got on the bus, however, his mood seemed to drop all over again. You didn’t really notice it at first, a bit distracted by the loud music and the other guys. You loved spending time with them, they were as much your family as Colson. But your good time was spoiled by Colson sitting on one of the couches scrolling through his phone with a drink in his hand.

You didn’t want to have fun without him, he was your best friend, after all. So, you walked over to him, reaching your hand out. “Come dance with me.” You smiled, which he did not return.

In fact, he barely looked at you, just took a sip of his drink and said, “why don’t you go dance with Rook since you like him so much.”

You were taken aback by his comment. “Umm, what?”

“You heard me. If you like Rook so much why don’t you go dance with him? Why don’t you just sleep with him while you’re at it?”

You took a step back, offended. “I don’t know what your problem is right now, but either talk to me like a grown up or get over it.”

Colson sighed, standing up and grabbing your hand to drag you to the back of the bus, away from the crowd. He opened the door that separated the bunks from the rest of the bus, leading you in and closing it behind you. You waited for an explanation from him, but he just stood there, glaring at you.

“Okay, what the fuck is your problem, Colson? I’ve been here for all of a week so I don’t exactly know what I could’ve done.” You tried to keep your voice quiet, but your tone was still sharp.

Colson’s tone stung just as bad. “Oh right, because you haven’t been flirting with Rook ever since you got here. I mean seriously could you make it any more obvious?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Okay, one, I’m not fucking flirting with anyone, much less Rook. Two, even if I was flirting with him, or anyone for that matter, it’s none of your fucking business.” Colson had a habit of doing this; anytime you started talking to a guy, or even just dancing with one at a club, he made sure it stopped immediately and you were fed up with it.

“It is my business. He’s my bandmate and you’re my best friend. If you two hook up or do anything, guess who’s caught in the middle? Me.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, and I suppose that’s why you’ve run off every other guy I’ve tried to do anything with?”

He stepped towards you, eyes getting darker. “So you were trying to get with Rook?”

“Oh my god Colson, no!” You let out an exasperated groan, “I’m just saying you have a pattern of getting in between me and literally any member of the male species. Rook and I are just friends, you know that. And I would never put you in a situation like that.”

He stepped closer to you, standing over you now. "Maybe I just don’t think they’re good enough for you.” His voice got quieter, but you weren’t backing down.

“You’re supposed to think that. That’s what friends are for. But that doesn’t mean you get to get in the way of every potential relationship I have.”

“Stop saying that fucking word.” His voice got deeper, darker.

You furrowed your brows, confused and a bit nervous at his tone. “What word.” Your voice came out quieter than you expected it to.

Colson sighed and hung his head, backing away from you, “forget it.”

He turned so his back was facing you, running a hand through his hair. You watched him carefully, studying him. “What word, Colson?” You pushed him.

He rubbed his face with his hands, letting out another heavy sigh. “Did you ever stop to think about why I didn’t want you to get anywhere with those guys?” Your heart seemed to stop beating for a second, and your shoulders fell slightly.

“N-no.” You stuttered, walking towards the man, who was still turned away from you. “Colson, I’m really confused right now.” Your voice was soft. You reached out to touch his arm, but he spun around before you could.

His hand reached out to tilt your jaw up, so you were looking into his eyes. You expected him to be angry, but there was something else instead. His face was really close to yours, enough that you could feel his breath on your nose when he spoke. “There’s a reason I don’t want you to flirt with Rook, or with any other guy for that matter.” You had a feeling you knew where this was going, and you took a sharp breath as your heart fluttered.

“Colson-“ You started, but he cut you off.

“Just let me finish, please. I have to say this or I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.” You stayed silent, your eyes begging him to continue. “I don’t want you to be with anyone else. Fuck, Y/N, it hurts like hell to see you flirting with other people because I want you to be flirting with me.”

You smile, trying not to giggle. “And I realized when I left for tour that I’m kind of really in love with you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his lips onto yours. His hands wrapped around your waist as his lips moved against yours. When you pulled away, he placed his forehead against yours, eyes closed. “I’ve kind of been flirting with you for the past 4 years, loser.”

His eyes flew open, head moving away from yours. “What?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I’ve kind of been really in love with you for a long time.” You mimicked his earlier words. “You never said anything about it so I just assumed you didn’t feel the same way.”

He let out a breath through his nose, “God I’m so dumb.” You giggled, shaking your head and pressing your lips against his.

“You are not, you’re just a little oblivious.” He rolled his eyes, pulling your hips closer to him and kissing you again, longer this time. He started leading you backwards, so your back pressed against the wall of bunks lightly. One of your hands moved to rest on his cheek and the other played with the hair at the base of his neck.

The kiss deepened, his tongue swiping against your lips. You granted him entrance, his tongue slowly exploring your mouth. His hands began to move down your waist. They were about to reach your butt when the door opened and Dre walked in. “Oh shit,” He paused, looking between you two and slowly smiling. “About time you fuckers got it on.”

You buried your head into Colson’s chest, a blush on your face. “Duuuude.” Colson groaned, his head falling backwards. “Get out.”

Dre chuckled, hands in surrender. “In my defense, you guys are the one making out in a tour bus full of people in the bunk room.”

If looks could kill, Dre would have been murdered by Colson by now. “Okay, I’m leaving. But just know I’m telling everyone about this.” He smiled, quickly leaving, and closing the door behind him before Colson could hurt him.

You laughed, pulling the man back to you and connecting your lips to his, a smile on your face. “I’m gonna kill him.” Colson mumbled against your lips.

You rolled your eyes, “As hot as that would be, society generally frowns upon killing your friends.” He chuckled and pressed another kiss to your lips, his hands reaching up to cup your face.

“Wait, would you still like me if I was a murderer?”

You giggled, “Depends on who you kill, but probably.”

He pecked your lips, “What if I killed Rook?” You glared at him, and he smiled. “What? I’m just asking in case it happens.”

“You’re not allowed to kill your band members.”

“So if I kicked him out of the band and then killed him, it would be okay?”

“Colson Baker!”

“Kidding!”

[tiny-feisty-gay]

@lenfer-incarnadine first of all, i'm so glad you like it! vaggie and charlie matching makes me so happy tbh, like, they already are matchy in the show and i feel like the early days where there were just little hints of it must have been so cute. thank you so much! <3

as for the writing part, god, i wish had magical writing secrets. writing a lot in one sitting is exhausting, albeit fun, and quantity doesn't always equal quality. this happened to be a very long bit because i hit a stride partway through, but i also wrote and rewrote chapter eleven four? five? times before i hit that stride.

so, with that said:

Don't be afraid to start over. I use Scrivener because it's really easy to move paragraphs, blurbs or entire scenes into a folder and out of the main text body, but you can mimic that by just making a new document(s) for those cut words if, like me, you would rather saw off your own arm than actually delete words. If something isn't working, you've already walked away from it to let it rest, and it still doesn't work... go back to where it was working and start over. Trust me, wrestling an uncooperative scene into submission is a whole lot harder than accepting that the foundation is bad and rebuilding it. Nuking the words you're struggling with gives you a blank slate to start from, and another chance at catching that elusive writing stride.

This works for my brand of neurodivergence but your mileage may vary: track your progress, whether that's by words written or time spent writing. Personally, word count is more reinforcing to me, so I track words written. I have a GDoc spreadsheet dedicated just to word tracking, which I update at the end of each day and then tally up at the end of the month. It's a really good way to get that "ah, finished!" feeling even if you're still in the middle of a project.

Specifically for writing "lots of words", first decide if your scene needs a lot of words. Action scenes tend to need less and do better with short sentences and sparse internal dialogue, whereas emotional and introspective scenes do better with longer sentences, descriptive language, and more sensory detail. I write a lot of internal stream-of-consciousness style stuff, so my word counts tend to go higher than someone who focuses primarily on action might.

Writing a lot of words is at least partly down to consistency, and the best way to tackle consistency is to find what works for you. For me, it's listening to some music and carving out time (usually at night, when I'm most productive) to write. Whether I write 50 or 5000 words, they get added to the spreadsheet all the same, I brag to friends about them all the same, and I'm proud of myself for getting them done all the same. I know it's easier said than done, but mindset is everything with writing and self-deprecation/guilting yourself will kill creativity faster than anything else.

Lastly: having a friend group of other writers changed my ability to write entirely, and I'm not exaggerating at all. I also write original fiction and most of our conversations revolve around our novels, but finding a group (for me, it's a small discord server) where you can bounce ideas and workshop wording and just gush about what you're working on it so helpful.

Writing a lot is less about the writing itself, and more about removing as many barriers as possible that might stand in your way. Things like doubt, demotivation, distractions, and isolation. Writers tend to be a pretty introverted bunch so the isolation part is, in my opinion, one of the most important.

Also: basic self care. Food, water, cleanliness. And if you're struggling to get those basics done? Decide whether you can handle writing at all, or if trying to force it will just make you feel worse. There's no shame in taking breaks; nobody (including the great writers of history, yes I will die on that hill) can write every single day without faltering. Nobody should force themself to write every single day without faltering. Pick something reasonable, stick to it as much as possible, and give yourself enough grace to be flexible on it.

Forgiveness of self goes a long way for writers.

Idk if any of this was helpful but I couldn't really answer the question directly since it's a lot more than that, but I hope some of this gave you some ideas <3

"surely this will be a normal length chapter"

~six thousand words later~

[emsvegetables]

okay but like i screamed when i saw your requests are open, ( after reading the pregnancy hcs ) if it's fine with u - you can totally not do this if you don't like it - may i request headcanons with the same boys you did with the pregnancy hcs but with their father-daughter/son relationship with them headcanons? i'm a sucker for those HAHA. thank you again if you ever consider, love ♡♡

“okay but like i screamed when i saw your requests are open, ( after reading the pregnancy hcs ) if it's fine with u - you can totally not do this if you don't like it - may i request headcanons with the same boys you did with the pregnancy hcs but with their father-daughter/son relationship with them headcanons? i'm a sucker for those HAHA. thank you again if you ever consider, love ♡♡”

AHHH OFC!!!! hi @karasunology this is for you, you’re so sweet!!!!! hope you like these <33!!!! i’m not sure if i interpreted it correctly fifkfjrrj i rewrote this THREE TIMES FIEIDIFIF also i made the child a daughter haha hope that’s okay!!!

Oikawa:

* he’ll love his child SO much!!!!!!!!

* anyway he’s REALLY excited for little (Y/N) to come out!!!!!!!

* he’s with you throughout the entire birth process, and he tries his best not to cry when you curse him and say that you’re never having a baby with him again.

* AHAHAHAHA ITS SO PAINFUL BUT HE DOESN’T KNOW THAT LMAO

* and when she pops out of the womb?

* he is CRYING and calling Iwaizumi to tell him how cute she looks.

* “IWA-CHAN!!!!! SHE’S SO CUTE AND—“

* Iwaizumi hangs up on him LOL

* but afterwards he’s softly running his fingers through your hair after it’s all over, and telling you that he loves you.

* but anyways the Seijoh third years come to visit little (Y/N) every weekend and they always bring so much things for her to play with!!!!

* but it’s obvious Iwaizumi is little (Y/N)’s favourite uncle LOL

* she looks like she LIKES Iwaizumi more than Oikawa AHAHAH

* she’ll crawl to him and always reach for him and he’ll happily hug her!!! Oikawa is SO jealous lmaoooo

* but when little (Y/N) can start walking and talking, MAN.

* Oikawa is instantly teaching her how to play volleyball!!!!

* he’s teaching her how to set, and how to receive balls!!!

* her uncles come over to play with her every weekend and you find it really cute, when you poke your head out into the backyard and see four grown men cooing over your little girl!!!!

* but she grows up to love spiking more thanks to her uncle Iwaizumi!!!!!!

* Oikawa’s VERY salty about that LMAOOO but he’ll set to her all the time to practice!!!

* he and her are the total power team!!!

* he’ll go to ALL her games and he’ll happily point her out to you when you’re looking for her!

* and when she gets a spike in??

* “YOU GO GIRL!!!! MAKE YOUR FATHER PROUD!!!!”

* he’s also a super supportive father!!!!

* but he’ll draw a line at relationships AHAHA

* he’ll know how disgusting high school boys are (CONSIDERING HOW HE WAS AHAH) and he’ll gather the Seijoh third years and scare that boy away.

* Matsukawa is the scariest bc he actually is really intimidating HAH.

* and Hanamaki manages to scare them away bc he threatens MURDER AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

* but anyway your daughter has to BEG him to stop after he scares the seventh boy away.

* you just laugh as he tries to make excuses to what he did.

Kuroo:

* aw this man!!!!!!

* i’ve said before in a previous hc, i THINK his parents had some sorta tension between them and hence he had to live with his grandparents.

* so growing up, he never really had active parents in his life!!! so he’s promising himself that he’s going to treat you and little (Y/N) right.

* and when little (Y/N) comes out of the womb!!!!! he’s SO SO SO happy, and he’s smiling so widely and tears are rolling down his cheeks.

* he’s praising you on how well you did during the entire process, and he’s kissing your forehead and saying how proud he is of you.

* but he’s SO SO SO HAPPY!!!! and he’s immediately telling Kenma and the third gym squad!!!!!!

* okay but Kenma occasionally pops over to your house every few weeks to give little (Y/N) toys and stuff, and you have to tell him to STOP bc he’s spending so much money!!!!!

* ZRIEOTKGK

* but Bokuto, Akaashi and Tsukishima also come over to play with little (Y/N)!!!!

* it’s obvious her favourite is Akaashi, bc he’s the most gentle with her, and she’s always crawling up to him and hitting his thighs.

* Bokuto always goes into emo mode whenever she choose Akaashi over him LOL

* anyway.

* he’s teaching little (Y/N) volleyball when she can stand up and walk!!!

* and he’s such a big influence on her life that she actually ASPIRES to be a middle blocker just like him!

* he always brings you to all her games when the both of you can make it, and occasionally the third gym squad will make an appearance too!!!!

* when she blocks the other team????

* there’s two people screaming on the second floor.

* “THATS MY DAUGHTER!!!”-kuroo

* “WOOOO GOOOO LITTLE (Y/N)!!!”-bokuto

* Akaashi and Tsukishima just exchange looks like: wtf is wrong with them.

* he’s also a really, really supportive father.

* he’s so close to her, and he really understands her so well, just like how he understands you.

* he’ll let her talk to him about anything, but he also knows when to give her space to work out her problems when she needs to!!!

* overall super supportive.

* REALLY GREAT FATHER.

* though he gets a TAD protective when little (Y/N) starts to talk about her boyfriend to the both of you.

* but he trusts her!!!! so it’s all good!!!!!

Kenma:

* ahhh!!! he’s actually prepared for little (Y/N) to come out.

* like.

* he’s already bought all the stuff needed for babies, and he’s already put it in the room.

* and when your water breaks??? he’s bringing you to the hospital, with a very calm face, because he’s researched on what to do and he made sure to get the BEST doctor on your case!

* and when little (Y/N) comes out?

* he’s so proud, and you see this lone tear slide down his cheek, and he’s pressing a soft kiss onto her forehead, before pressing one to your lips, and telling you that he loves you so much.

* anyway he immediately tells Hinata what happened, and after Hinata jokes about little (Y/N) not being named after him, he congratulates the both of you through the speaker!!

* Kuroo finds out a few minutes later, after Hinata hangs up and Kenma texts him, and he also congratulates you happily, and berates Kenma over not telling him first AHAHAH

* N E WAYS

* Kenma. is literally and figuratively A SUGAR DADDY TO LITTLE (Y/N).

* this guy???

* a new toy shows up in a parcel outside the house EVERY day, and you have to PLEAD him to stop buying little (Y/N) presents when the drawers start to overflow AHAHA

* Kenma merely shrugs, and gets another cupboard built in the room to store more toys, and shoots a small smile at you when you sigh.

* “i have money to spare, babe.”

* “WE HAVE TOO MUCH TOYS, KO.”

* tbh he won’t teach volleyball to (Y/N), bc he’s lazy AHAHA

* BUT when she inevitably picks it up thanks to her uncles Kuroo and Hinata, he’s cursing them silently in his head when your daughter asks him to play with her.

* he will not be able to refuse her and he’ll actually play with her until SHE’S tired, bc he loves her so much!!!!

* she ends up wanting to be a setter, and he teaches her all his hacks and techniques to get out of practice if she’s tired AHAHA

* he’ll try his best to make it to all her games, and he won’t shout whenever she scores, but instead grip your hands really tightly and mumble a cheer under his breath.

* he’s a really chill dad, tbh.

* like, he’ll never scold your daughter if she’s in the wrong.

* all the discipline is up to you AHAHAH

* he also doesn’t get worked up over her having her boyfriend over for dinner, and instead asks the boy what games he plays.

* the protectiveness gets handed over to uncle Kuroo!!!!!!! who’s instantly firing a barrage of questions at the poor boy.

* “stop it, Kuro.”

* “BUT KENMA, this boy is trying to make his moves on little (Y/N)!!!!”

Sugawara:

* aw HES SUCH A SWEET GUY.

* he’s so PUMPED for little (Y/N)’s delivery.

* and when your little baby pops out???

* this guy is CRYING.

* tears are rolling down his cheeks and he’s SMILING so much as he holds little (Y/N) in his arms.

* he’s SO happy, and he’s telling you that straight to your face as you lie back down on the hospital bed.

* he’s pressing a soft kiss on your cheek before he’s texting the Karasuno group chat WIDIFIFIR

* they’re all so happy!!! and they swarm into the hospital like the maniacs they are to see little (Y/N).

* but when your baby can walk and talk???

* you BET that the entire team is coming to your house EVERY weekend to play volleyball with her.

* little (Y/N) ends up loving Nishinoya the most, and he excitedly teaches her the ROLLING THUNDER move, but Sugawara scolds him when she rolls wrongly and ends up with a gash on her cheeks.

* Nishinoya is BANNED from returning to your house AHAHA KDG

* okay she ends up being a libero like her favourite uncle!!

* and whenever she has a match?

* the ENTIRE team is going there to cheer her on.

* i’m not even lying.

* she’ll save a ball, and all her middle-aged uncles start screaming and cheering, causing her to blush in embarrassment.

* Sugawara and Daichi have to calm them down AHAHAHAH.

* but when she undergoes changes and starts getting male attention???

* man Tanaka and Nishinoya are NOT going to let that happen.

* they’ll be protecting her like how they protected Shimizu AHAHA

* but the most scariest is HER DAD, SUGAWARA KOSHI.

* he’ll smile widely at the boy who your daughter brings home, and that smile is the scariest you’ve seen on his face.

* AHAHAH the poor boy’s TERRIFIED of Sugawara LMAO

Asahi:

* OH!!! this pure, sweet man.

* he’s so SHOCKED when your water breaks.

* he’ll be running around the house and freaking out AHAHA and you have to call the ambulance yourself LOL

* and when little (Y/N) pops out????

* he’s CRYING.

* he’s SOBBING.

* he’s SHAKING.

* he’s so scared!!!! what if your baby doesn’t like him?????

* he’s instantly texting the third years at Karasuno for help LOL

* but they tell him to chill and just hold the baby in his arms!!!

* and he starts to cry again AHAHAH

* but anyway your baby will have the CRAZIEST UNCLES.

* literally your baby is showered with LOVE AND AFFECTION by the entire Karasuno team!!!!!!

* your baby’s favourite is Daichi!!! bc he’s the gentlest with her, and she’ll always wiggle out of Asahi’s arms to go to Daichi.

* ANY WAY

* she ends up being a wing spiker like her father!!!!!

* Asahi’s so proud he starts to cry AGAIN.

* but whenever she has a match????

* the entire team is going AHAHAH

* Nishinoya and Tanaka ARE SCREAMING when she gets a spike in.

* Asahi will just tear up bc he’s so PROUD.

* oh and Asahi’s the MOST SUPPORTIVE DAD.

* he’s always letting her do whatever she wants!!!!!

* and he supports everything that she does!!!!!

* and when she brings a boyfriend home???

* tbh he’s totally fine with that, bc his baby is all grown up, after all.

* but the boy’s scared bc of Asahi’s LOOKS AHAHAHAHAHAH

* your daughter has to tell him to smile more bc her boyfriend is scared of her father’s face AHAHAHAHAH

JRRKFKFK HI IM SO SORRY IF THIS ISNT WHAT YOU WANTED FIRIFIFI i tried my best to write this!!! i hope it’s okay!!!!!!!!

[hufflepuffdean]

alright so like. I just rewrote 15.20 in my head following most of the episode parameters and it’s amazing how much better it makes me feel? I do have an idea for a fully canon-compliant fic and I do feel a bit better about the finale than I think most do, but I wanted to barf this out lol. it’s not COVID-compliant, but again, it does fit what the ep was trying to do I think. I’m trying not to be like a Polyanna asshole or whatever because I’m seeing people be condescending as fuck but writing this out works for me so I hope this works for someone else?

the ep can still open with the montage and definitely still include Miracle. but make it clear way more time is passing. like, a matter of years. at least five. we can see Sam and Dean on various hunts but also them doing some normie things. Sam in a Zoom class (no, COVID doesn’t exist here, he just is busy lol) and Dean working at a bar. it’s clear they’re happy. and again, it’s clear it’s been several years.

I’m ngl I’m not super married (no pun intended) to Sam/Eileen like a lot of D/C fandom but it’s been established and it does work easily within the show without having to be like Awkward New Romance. so she’s there too sometimes. 

there’s definitely a part where both Sam and Dean are looking through pictures of those they’ve lost. Dean can like look at a picture of Cas and say... thank you, I won’t waste it, looking at the picture. I feel like people would be pissed he’s not looking for Cas but again, I’m not totally changing the structure here to make the episode #actually a Cas rescue, and it would be hopefully clear why he’s not looking, that he missed him but thought it was what Cas would have wanted in his sacrifice. plus there’s a payoff at the end here.

eventually someone shows up with the uh, vampire juggalo case where they haven’t been able to save all the kids. I do not want them to be clowns and it is my version so they are not. anyway Sam and Dean go off on that hunt.

the barn scene... okay well first there’s no Jenny because dude I am obsessed with this show and have watched S1 at least four times and I love every minor character and I had no idea who she was until the flashbacks and also she didn’t even do anything wtf was that. 

mostly I fucking hate that Dean has to die at all! but again, we’re sticking to the episode’s basic structure, just kinda cleaning shit up. sooo I guess the thing here is - Dean’s death needs more agency. maybe Sam and the kids are directly being threatened somehow and he makes the choice to jump in and save them even if it costs his life. this is the one specific bit I can’t really nail down (HA) so if you have any ideas feel free to send ‘em along. I feel better about it if Dean at least got some significant time to himself to live.

the goodbye can stay. it was well done, and I think both Jensen and Jared did a great job. I think things like “Sam should have tried to call 911, while in the middle of Bumfucknowhere Ohio″ or “Sam should have tried to pray to Jack, who already said he’s staying out of things” take away from the power of the scene.

you can have the montage of Sam mourning. it’s a while before he calls Eileen or anyone else, since he’s so devastated. when he does have Dean’s funeral, like, everyone who’s still alive is there. Eileen, the Wayward girls, Garth, anyone I’m forgetting. fuck it, Alice! the Lebanon kids! even random strangers, to show what Dean meant! at some point Sam should give the bunker keys to Claire too.

at the end Rowena shows up. Sam is devastated to see her, saying he can’t do a deal. Rowena just says she was there to pay respects... and tells him that Dean is not one of hers. Sam just kinda lights up.

now you can do the thing where it jump-cuts to Heaven. the scene with Bobby is good. I may write a post later about how Jack and Cas redoing Heaven is like the thing that makes the finale alright to me, but definitely keep that. the change here is that Dean does go into the Roadhouse, and it’s full of like every goddamn dead character we love tbh. Charlie, Mary, Rufus, Jo, Ellen, Ash, Victor, Kevin, Pamela, etc. Those are just characters I thought of off the top of my head lol. No John Winchesters Allowed but everyone else. also no Cas yet but don’t worry he’ll be there in a bit. 

you can start the Carry On montage here but dear god don’t play that cover version.

on Earth, we see Sam and Eileen living. they have a daughter, thanks, though her name is still Dean. (I’ve realized I hate the “naming a child after a beloved dead relative” trope, but we’re clearly doing that so it’s okay.) maybe even make it so that they adopt one of the kids they saved in the barn. Eileen has like actual lines, whether she’s talking to Sam about how much he misses Dean and how it’s hard without him but he’s going to live for him, or whether she’s talking with Sam to Dean about how there are monsters and bad things in the night and sometimes mom and dad used to deal with them, but not any more. but they’ll still be careful. (the anti-possession tattoo can stay and salted windows and all that.)

Dean gets in the Impala in Heaven and you just hear “hello Dean” on the radio. it’s Cas, obviously. Dean does one of those killer smiles. they have a convo about the rebuilding of Heaven, and how everyone here, it’s Dean (and Sam) who brought them this kind of happiness. Dean’s like, Cas it was you too, of course it was you Cas. that can be it, orrrrr if the network would allow you to go farther, Dean can say, like. ugh I can’t put it into words right now but something that makes it clear he reciprocates. fuck it, have an “I love you too,” I’M mentally writing this lmao 

the rest of the montage can proceed like normal-ish I think? I actually did really like it when Sam was “driving” the Impala at the same time Dean was driving it in Heaven. just please god get a better wig. also I do not think Sam’s only pictures on the mantle should be of like, Dean and John lol.

Dean’s tending bar in Heaven with the whole group there when he suddenly is like... oh... I think I have to take care of something. everyone knows and is thrilled for him. Cas comes along. (honestly this one’s optional in my mind, I think that scene at the end was really good as is, but I want a TFW reunion, sue me.)

bridge scene plays out, only Cas is there too and there’s a lot of hugging all around. fuck it put Miracle on the bridge too he’s an icon.

theeeee end. oh and no two seconds later cut to the actors out of character but still in costumes and the crew not in masks during a respiratory pandemic, please, it was very thoughtful for the fans and the crew deserves love I get it but also but really weird lol

[shadowfae]

1- Not much tbh, just what you've posted, and 2- To be honest I quite like your long answers. It can definitely wait though, you should get some sleep.

Is your warpriest link a constant thing? Does it ever fade into the background? I'm contemplating forming a second link, something happier than my copinglink, and I'm not sure how to tell when to tell when the line of a link vs a persona is crossed when not worn out of necessity.

And the original ask so I have it on hand. I did take a look at your original context, and if you're cool with it, I'll edit this post with a link for those who may find this is a useful answer and need that on hand. Otherwise, it'll stay a mystery.

But yes, it seems like my Sabe experiences would be a useful thing to talk about here. And in order to do that, I need to go over four things: who and what Sabe is, why he exists the way that he does, what that does for me, and lastly what I think he is in terms of terminology and why.

To start, here is his toyhou.se profile, if you want to read more about his actual story and thoughts and whatnot. But I doubt you'll have the necessary context for that, so let me go into it. RuneScape (RS) is one of the oldest MMORPGs in existence. WoW might be older but I doubt it. Basically it's a medieval magic fantasy that's very long running and you the player end up the World Guardian, aka the guy that stops the gods (who are very powerful folks who just don't die of natural causes and typically stand for some philosophy) from blowing the world up because Guthix, the dead god of balance, asked you to. Well, he voluntold you. And that makes you a major chess piece, Elder Gods get involved, it's a big mess.

But before all that happened, back in 2006 when I was introduced to the game and very shitty at it, well. I liked the lore insofar that I've always liked the lore, it was interesting and I liked thinking about it. I didn't have membership and I sucked at playing so I just read the wiki and the God Letters over and over and sometimes the Postbag from the Hedge. Alongside my two friends, we played at being children of the then-triad of main gods: Saradomin, Guthix, and Zamorak.

I liked Zamorak best, but I didn't think his ideas would be the best for society as a whole, so I ended up playing child of Guthix. Eventually we grew up and grew apart but every couple of years I'd go back to RuneScape, read the lore, settle on what choices I'd make if I could play, and think about being the player character. In 2010 I discovered a fic - dawn by khayr, it's on Ao3 and dA - about Iban, son of Zamorak, right around when I was reading Percy Jackson. Cue him showing up as a soulbond and an older brother figure and guiding me right up until the end of sixth grade. Iban got me through the ruthless bullying that would later set the stage for all my major suicidal-ideation and self-hatred for the entirety of high school: even then, I was more stable than I might've been otherwise, because he interfered.

Saradomin stands for strength through order. Procedures and law and diplomacy and war strategy. He was originally kind of a ripoff of the Christian god, but he's grown to be more of an order-over-peace character and is quite well-written. Guthix stands for strength through balance, and has been all over the board in terms of what he's done and will do. He's kind of a dick, actually, but his heart's in the right place.

Zamorak, as you've heard, is strength through chaos and personal strife. It's no "the strong over the weak" or "the strong take care of the weak", it's flat-out "everyone is strong, and just need the right circumstances to tap into it to be the best they can possibly be". Now, his philosophy is kind of more for warriors and scholars, but if you tilt your head, it applies to everyone. Chronically ill folks will find their chaos in fighting to get up every day and maintain a life. Folks in traumatizing, abusive situations find that chaos in their very survival. Scholars challenge themselves and their fellows and their predecessors trying to find the answers they so need. Nobody in lockstep, no such thing as "we've always done it this way."

A lot of human Zamorakians and Saradominist propaganda says that Zamorak is simply absolute evil: and to be fair, when most of that was written, he kinda was because he was based loosely on the Christian devil. Later writing says that they're typically mistaken on that. Zamorak isn't evil. The very first thing he did upon becoming a god was fulfill a promise and lead a slave rebeliion. (The Avernic uprising, if anyone's curious.) He stands for the downtrodden and says "You are never going to get your dignity by going through the motions and trying to peacefully show you're worth respect. Burn some shit down and prove that you won't stand for this bullshit."

Zamorak in a Saradominist's eyes is someone whose banner you wear when you want to be a crazy murderer. Zamorak in a Zamorakian's eyes is the singing voice who murmurs "Get up, this isn't enough to kill you, you can still do this," when transphobic laws get passed or you hear a slur thrown your way on the street.

And as someone who grew up queer and nonhuman, yeah, that resonates, and the older I get the more I think "Guthixian philosophy is best for a society at large, but Zamorakianism for individuals is good." Because Zamorakianism can't really apply on a theocratic level. It really doesn't. It turns into American bootstrap culture and no social services and all that shitty stuff.

The funny thing is that Zamorak himself has no issues helping out if he thinks you need it. (If he didn't, he wouldn't be cool with asking for help, or giving it when he's asked. Which he does do repeatedly so. The man has more kindness in him than people want to admit.) What I do find fascinating is what he thinks of the actions of some of his longtime subordinates, who clearly support him, but I don't think support his actual philosophy. Because if you ask me, he'd side with the downtrodden humans of Meiyerditch, not the vampire lords that treat them like cattle. He's proven that he likes humans, and doesn't see them as unworthy. I do wonder if Jagex will show us what he might do about that.

Either way. Ahem. Over the course of a decade and a half, I keep going back to RuneScape, refining my philosophy and side, thinking again what I would do playing the game proper. About... I want to say five years ago, Jagex opened up the Sixth Age and I finally noticed, and they rewrote every god's philosophy because they wanted every single one to be actually playable. Not just "hurr durr evil" but actually have a logical line of thought. They probably didn't have pop culture paganism in mind, but the gods of RS are incredibly well-suited to it.

Well, I found that out, and immediately went through every god's philosophy, and reasoned my way through it. What does a worshipper of this god look like? What sort of life would they lead? If i apply this to me, what does that look like from that perspective? Do I understand this? Is it comfortable to exist in?

And as it turns out, I understand Zamorak the most, followed a close second by Armadyl, which was quite surprising. Zaros remains incomprehensible and I don't trust like that. (That's another story.) So I thought about it more, and it stuck even when I wandered off to different fandoms and interests. But what happened was that I ended up internalizing it, unknowingly and without meaning to.

It meant that when, two years later, I ended up in a horrific and traumatizing situation, the anchor I hit that held me together was a mixture of being a Devil - I am a fucking God you will obey me and recognize my power - and Zamorak's core philosophy: this cannot kill me, this cannot stop me, this is pure fucking hell and I am going to laugh in the face of death because people are forged in hellfire and I will walk away knowing what I'm made of.

And I was right. Honestly, out of everyone who was there with me, I think I'm the only one that was that deeply entrenched and walked out without trauma. I do not believe I could have done that had I not internalized Zamorak's philosophy. (That isn't to say if the others had that philosophy they wouldn't be traumatized, because there were absolutely other factors I wouldn't know about and some that I do and didn't do them any favours; but I am saying that it saved my ass and without it, I might not have been okay.)

I walked out of that with zero regrets. Zero. Even now, I don't regret a thing. Because it doesn't matter what happened or how much I was lied to or if he deserved my kindness. I know what I perceived to be happening, and I know how I reacted, and when the pieces were down I was stronger than steel, gave kindness without considering the cost, and I walked away unscathed.

How many people can say they've looked death in the eye and laughed? More than there should be, not too many that knowing what I'm capable of when put into pure chaos isn't somehow impressive. Because it is. And Zamorak's words proved themselves, or rather, I proved him entirely correct.

And when I last went back to RuneScape, and thought about it with enough time to put it all into hindsight, well. Aw, shit, he was right. Then vaguely around that time I went back and read Dawn, which was unfinished, tracked down the author and demanded to know how it fucking ended. (She told me and we're still friends like three years later. xD) Then I went back and found my old OCs, and decided fuck it, I'm making my own World Guardian.

So first thing I did was log in and jump over to the Makeover Mage and make myself into a boy. Kept the plateskirt though, I wanted to have the RS equivalent of a limp wrist to prove I'm Very Queer. Then I went about remaking my character. I wanted to make a self-insert, I was old enough to know it wasn't cringey, it was just fun, but I didn't want to use my default avatar with the black hair over one eye and the Chaorruption. I wanted to make a new self-insert based in nothing I was already using.

So I made the most beautiful man I could! Long, dark brown hair, pretty semi-dark skin, looked Kharidian, and then I said fuck it and made him Zamorak's youngest son. Originally, he was adopted when he was young by Iban and Clivet, and suffered serious imposter syndrome when being WG meant he'd never get demigod powers. But as I grew more confident in myself, he ended up getting powers? And then eventually I rewrote his backstory, and then wrote about his mother, and her relationship with Zamorak, and then he had friends like Blaire and Icthlarin (who was also my furry awakening, rip me).

Then with the most recently questline I've been getting a bit more into RS magical theory, and I've been mulling it over lots, and Seanan McGuire's Middlegame definitely helped; and I figured out how I wanted him to handle being World Guardian: it didn't make sense for him to be openly Zamorak's son, the other gods would just target his family to manipulate him. So I had him play neutral openly and Zamorakian to his friends, effectively living a double life.

Then he just looked up one day and said "Oh, by the way, my father won't acknowledge me to keep me safe but I don't know that so we have a very unsteady relationship because I don't know if he loves me", and then Children of Mah came out, and he was all "Oh and I think I just got disowned (I didn't, Zamorak was protecting me, but I don't know that) so my relationship with Zamorak is Fucking Shitty" and he was stuck that way until I figured out how to save their relationship.

It culminated in Sabe not knowing how his Mahjarrat powers worked and guessing, and hating himself for being half-and-half, and missing everything about being a Mahjarrat, and literally you couldn't have gotten more obvious in order to tell me I was having Fucking Issues coming to terms with the fact I didn't have any understanding or knowledge of my own heritage, but whatever, eventually I noticed that.

And as I've been working to understand myself and my heritage, so too has Sabe been doing that with his Mahjarrat heritage. But for the longest time, no matter how I put him and Zamorak in the same room in a scene to try and get them to talk it out, it wasn't working. Something wasn't right. Sabe resented being World Guardian, hated having to betray his family, didn't know if he was wanted, and hated himself for having to kill Mah, the mother of his species.

Not that long ago, a few months actually, he informed me (which is my shorthand for 'I suddenly figured out this happened, and it genuinely feels like remembering that one fucking word you have on the tip of your tongue, I always knew and just forgot for a while') that no, he'd been ripped in two by a hope devourer, brought to his father's stronghold, and Zamorak split his magic between mortal and divine in order to get around his godproofing and heal him. Zamorak's intense worry for his youngest son was what caused Sabe to break down and tell him honestly what was going on and how he was feeling, which caused Zamorak to do the same, and they finally, finally made up.

A week later, I noticed the connection between Sabe's Mahjarrat issues and my Irish issues, and started to wonder if he was a linktype.

I mean... he's a self-insert. He makes the choices I would, the me in the here and now, that I think are best. He's not a person I was and still know myself to be, he's not someone I grow into, he's not living his life beside me like a shadow. He's me, choosing the things I do, because I say so. But he's also me in the things he reflects, the things he struggles with, and things I had zero fucking conscious input on.

Sabe is the person I am when a crisis hits and I have to deal with the chaos. Sabe is the person I am when I need to lead. Sabe is the person I am when I am desperate to be known and loved by those I consider family. Sabe is the person I am when I want to be sure in where I came from, where I will return to, and the things that I will always be. Sabe is a man of darkness who knows the light as an acquaintance and nothing more, who is cruel and careless and kind.

Sabe is a warpriest of Zamorakian philosophy, because it took me twenty fucking years to put into words how I see the world, and now that I know, I will argue them to death and use them to help others. Drakath may have wanted a messiah to share the hivemind with others. Sabe is a warpriest, spreading the word and calling home the broken and the damned. He is the Last Rider, not the last of the Ilujanka but the one who keeps riding towards the chaos and never falls, no matter what.

Some of who Sabe is I have conscious input on. A whole lot of him was unintentional and perfectly reflects me.

So when it comes to terminology... I don't know what he is. A self-insert, yes. A linktype, maybe. A kintype, also maybe. Sabe doesn't feel like my past linktypes, because Sabe isn't always catharsis and comfort. Until he made up with his dad, Sabe was brutal and hurt a lot and constantly yearning for his foundation and slowly going mad. It wasn't fun. I just refused to do anything but see the story through. I was going to get it right. I wanted to see it to the end. I wanted to be the Last Rider, even though I didn't phrase it that way.

But to answer your actual question, of what he feels like when I'm not actively being him out of necessity, desire, and active thought. If it fades into the background.

And like... it can? Sabe as he is, recognized for what and who he is, is kind of a new thing. Sabe as a concept is very old, but Sabe as what he is right now is new, and confusing, and honestly I'm still trying to figure out what to make of it.

Like, seriously. Sabe is Zamorak's son. Am I Zamorak's son? Is he keeping an eye on me as I am? Would he be proud of me? Would he offer his approval of my progress? Does that make me, in some way, the World Guardian?

I have not a clue, buddy. Not a goddamn clue.

So what it means is that I've been paying attention, really. I don't just become strong in times of crisis. I've been trying to do better. Be better. Learn, and listen, and rethink myself. Break out of lockstep, of doing things the way I've always done them. Try to always do better than I did, build habits I like, stop waiting for things to change and just do it. Become the chaos, instead of waiting for it to hit me.

It means I need to live up to what Guthix told Sabe to do. It means being gentler, being kinder, not burning bridges when I'm not sure. It means keeping an eye out for any sign Zamorak's listening, in case I am his son, in case I really have to decide what I'm gonna do about being the son of chaos incarnate.

But other than the questioning, what it feels like is just... what I was already dealing with, just a little more at arm's length and easier to deal with. Once I recognize that his issues are reflective of mine, if I solve his, I have a pretty good idea of how to solve mine. Some of it won't work exactly right - Zamorak will always forgive him for not being the son he expected he might have had, my own parents may not, yay I'm queer and pagan - but it's a good rule of thumb.

It's also just comforting to know that when in doubt, nothing can kill me, because I simply refuse to die. I am World Guardian, I am a demigod of chaos incarnate, all the hellfire in the world can do nothing but strengthen me. And if I present those to myself as unshakeable beliefs, because for Sabe they are, then I'll be okay. It probably couldn't stop most disasters or tragedies, but I got hit by a car, broke five bones, and walked away with a record recovery time, so I mean... I can't prove that I can't die by some accident or tragedy, but you also can't prove that I can. (Trying to do so usually falls under what we call 'murder', and I personally believe I can't be murdered. Only assassinated.)

But really, I think the worst that could possibly happen with a new linktype is that you learn what not to do. It's new, it's scary, it's chaotic, and from where I'm standing, that's the best way to learn.

[bqstqnbruin]

No one told you life was gonna be this way

clap clap clap clap

Get it?

But here I am with that request that was sent in FOREVER AGO but I’m actually proud of this one. I haven’t been really happy with the stuff I’ve written in a while, but what are ya gonna do? This was requested from the fluff prompts, which I will still take (I think I still have one or two more currently ?) Sorry to the person who requested this the first time because for some reason the list shows up weird on my computer and the list only goes to 56 unless I’m on my phone but HERE WE ARE ANYWAY 

65. "So, we're just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?"

EDIT: so I really loved this one and noticed that no one has every reblogged it (probably because everyone hates the Bruins but Gryz deserves more attention TBH), so I edited it a bit, added stuff, rewrote parts, and here we are! 

Flashbacks are in italics!

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“How come you haven’t gone out on a date in a while?” your roommate, Emily, asks you, plopping down next to you on the couch for what would be another night inside watching Netflix, snacking on popcorn from Trader Joes, and drinking wine. 

“No guy has asked me out in a while?” you shrug, taking a large sip of your wine.

“Then why don’t you ask a guy out? You know plenty of single ones.” 

“I’m not interested in the ones that I know,” you say. She knows you’re lying. You’re well aware that you’re lying, but you’re not going to tell her that. Your entire friend group knew that you’ve had a crush on Matt pretty much since they day you met.

You were sitting in the dining hall at BU during your freshman year. You only knew Emily, but she had managed to make what seemed like millions of friends in the first two weeks, always surrounded by people while you watched from the outside. You were sitting there trying to keep up with the conversation they were having but not concentrating at all. 

“Hey, Gryz!” one of the guys yells, calling over to a babyface, blue eyed boy to come sit at the only available seat across from you. He sits down, giving you a small smile before you both turn your attention back to the conversation. There was something about him that you found yourself going back to looking at him, unable to hold the stare for more than a few seconds before turning back to whoever was talking so that he wouldn’t notice. 

Before Emily and her friends had joined you at the table, you were working on some stuff for class, a pencil and pen still laying there on the table. You absentmindedly pick up the pen, using it to push around the pencil. You weren’t sure how long you had been doing that on your own when all of a sudden another pencil is shot in your direction. You look up, the cute guy you had only known as Gryz smiling at you, pen in hand. 

“Shoot it back,” he eggs on. You shoot the pencil across the table, it landing right in his lap. 

“Oh, come on, Matt,” Vinay says, “You’re on the goddamn hockey team.” Everyone at the table laughs, Matt’s face turning red.

“Let’s do a tournament. We’re all sitting across from someone else,” you suggest. 

“I’m not going against you again,” Matt teases, making Alex get up and switch seats with him. He can’t help but smile as you explain the rules to everyone, scrambling to find enough writing utensils for everyone to play.

“First one to get it off the table five times is the winner. The loser of the last round owes the winner a favor of their choosing,” you finish, everyone going unnecessarily crazy. 

You were the one who invented the game just then, which surprisingly played to your advantage. You made it to the final round no problem. Your opponent: Matt. 

“You’re gonna win,” Matt groans, you just smiling as Emily cheers you on.

And you do. Matt had to buy you breakfast from the diner off campus every weekend for a month as his favor to you. The two of you went every weekend, and you wanted nothing more than for it to be a date each time. 

But you didn’t know if he wanted that, too. He seemed to be the only one who didn’t notice that you were absolutely smitten with him. Either that, or he didn’t really care. But regardless, you weren’t about to ask him out and find out that he only thought of you as a friend. And that’s probably why you don’t want to go on a date, you think to yourself. Part of you is still hoping that there’s something there between you and him. Why date other people when you can just wait for the person who’s right there and will never want to date you, right?

“What if I set you up with someone?” Emily suggests, earning what was probably an unnecessarily mean laugh to escape from your lips. 

“Yes, because we all know that’s going to end well.” Emily means well; she’s tried to set you up on blind dates before, but they normally end with you going home by yourself because you were too busy comparing the guy to Matt, or finding something wrong with them. It always came down to the same thing: they weren’t Matt. 

“Ok, fine. How about this weekend we go out and just have fun? You and me. If we find someone to like hookup with, consensually, then we go for it.” 

You give a heavy sigh, staring at your glass of wine. You don’t want to get with another guy. You were crushing hard on Matt, and you didn’t see yourself trying to go for anyone else until the crush was gone. “Fine, sure. It’s a date,” you say reluctantly, knowing that you really didn’t have a choice.

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“What are your plans for the weekend, Y/N?” Matt asks you, leaning against the counter in your kitchen. At least once every other week, you and Emily, Lydia and Jake, Vin and Alex, and Matt would rotate who would have the group over for dinner at one of the four apartments. This week was your and Em’s turn. Since she could really only make pasta, you were in the kitchen making burgers for everyone while Matt was helping you with whatever sides he could scrounge up from your cabinets. 

“Em and I are going out somewhere. She thinks I need to get out more.” You turn to him. He’s looking down at the cutting board, concentrating on the peppers he’s cutting. A single strand of hair falls in his face. You just want to brush it out of his face, him to look up at you with those blue eyes you loved, smile at you and -

No. No. You shake your head, turning back to the burgers before he can realize you were even looking at him. “Where are you headed to?” he asks, you not sure if he looked up.

“No clue, she just wants to go out so we can, like, hook up with someone,” you shrug, noticing that he stopped cutting the peppers. He was probably done chopping, anyway. If he was done, though, he would have asked what he could do next. It wasn’t like him to just stop. You take the last burger off the grill pan, and turn to him to see him just staring at the peppers, brow scrunched, almost looking upset. “Matt? Are you alright?”

 “Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat, throwing the peppers into the bowl for the salad you knew only the two of you would end up eating, anyway. “So, do you think you’re actually going to hook up with someone?” He was smiling, but there was something about the look in his eyes that made you think he wasn’t alright.

You chuckle, seeing the upset look in his eyes start to fade, “Probably not,” you shake your head, putting the burgers on buns, “You know me, I’m not into hooking up. Em just thinks I need a boyfriend so I don’t spend every night alone. She thinks my love life is D.O.A, just like in the Friends theme song.”

“What does D.O.A. even mean?”

“Dead on arrival. Basically my love life doesn’t exist.” Both of you laugh, Matt finally smiling with his eyes, “Which it does. Kind of. I mean, I’m interested in someone, so hooking up doesn’t seem that important when he’s around.” You stop for a minute, sort of shocked that you even admitted that you liked someone in the first place, much less admitted it to the guy you liked. 

He lets out another sigh, grabbing the bowls to bring to the living room where all your friends were, a smile on his face, that hurt look in his eyes reappearing. “Well, whoever that guy is, he’s really lucky.” 

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“Oh. My. God!” Emily practically screams. She wouldn’t have to if the bar you went to wasn’t so loud, but when you tell her about what Matt said to you the other night, she started to lose it. Normally, she would just say you were reading into things too much, but hey, you were drunk. Everything was more interesting when you were drunk. 

“I know!” you scream back, mirroring Janice and Rachel. 

“What do you think that means?”

“I have no idea.” You take a long sip of the bottle of Corona that had only been in your hands for the last ten minutes. You end up finishing the bottle, swaying a little bit. Whoops. You were a little too drunk already, and the night was only just beginning. “I’ll be right back.” You had every intention of going to the bar and asking for water. But instead, you ended up in an outdoor area of the bar, one that was much quieter than inside, less crowded, more calm, almost soothing.

You take a deep breath, letting in fresh air. What would it be like if you told Matt you liked him? You can just picture telling him, even so much as pulling out your phone to find his contact. You could just hit the little call button next to his name. He would be asleep by now, seeing as he had practice tomorrow and a road trip. You would call him and leave him a message for him to find in the morning. You would say, “Hey, so, we’ve been acting weird around each other lately. Actually, we have been forever. And it might be drunk me talking, but it’s because I’m in love with you, and I have been. I’m not sure about what you’re feeling, but I know for me, it’s you. You. Ok, bye.” And then something great would happen the next morning, where he confesses his love to you, too. 

You always hoped that he would. The day he won the Beanpot, you thought he would. 

All the guys were celebrating, told to bring as many people as they wanted to the party, which, for some reason, you had to wear a dress for. You thought that Matt was going to invite the entire friend group: you all hung out together when ever you were free. You almost never saw one person from the group alone, but when you asked Emily why she wasn’t getting ready for the party Matt had invited you to, she had no idea what you were talking about. 

You show up at Matt’s place where you told him you were going to meet him. He was wearing a simple white button down, navy pants and brown shoes to complete the outfit. It was so simple, but, shit, that crush you had on him was driving you crazy looking at him. You could have sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath when he opened the door and saw you, when he took your hand to lead you inside to the rest of the guys who where there. He spent the entire night by your side, dancing, drinking, laughing.

“I didn’t tell you this before, but you look amazing,” he says, quiet enough for only you to hear while you were surrounded by the rest of his belligerently drunk teammates. 

You swallow hard, the alcohol and your crush making you swoon. “You look pretty great, too.” 

You should have just told him then and there. It would have made your senior year together much less distracting before he left to play for the Bruins anyway. 

But you didn’t do that, and you wouldn’t do that, now. There’s no way you have that sort of confidence to confess that you love one of your best friends. Nor would you do it because there’s the possibility of losing him instead. You put your phone away and head back inside to get that water and find Emily. 

There’s no way you could ever tell Matt that you like him. But what if you did?

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“How much of last night do you actually remember?” Emily comes out of her room and into the kitchen, eyes barely open, hair a mess, makeup still on from last night, but now it was all smudged from having slept in it: the classic hungover look that the two of you tried desperately to avoid every time you went out, yet never did.

“I think we made out with some guys?” you say, not really sure. You knew you looked the same as here. All you needed was a good breakfast, which Matt should be coming over with once he got out of practice. 

“I remember a guy.” 

“Was his name Cory? Or Cody?” 

“Yours or mine?”

“Yes.” You both groan, really wishing you remembered what happened last night. You were sure that if you actually made out with the guys that nothing more happened besides that. No boys were present when you woke up, you remember coming home with only Em and no one else, unless she let someone in after. 

“I’m making coffee,” you say starting to get up. The room started spinning as you did, pretty much forcing you to sit back down. “I’m texting Matt to also bring coffee.”

‘Gotcha’

“I need water.” Emily whines, still not opening her eyes. Damn, you two really were dramatic. 

“You’re on your own for that. But get me some, too.” She manages to actually get up, coming back to your table with two glasses of water. Even the act of her putting the glass on the table a little too hard makes your head pound. You groan, downing the entire glass, putting your head down planning on staying there until Matt comes. 

When he knocks on the door, you groan again. “You’re getting that,” Emily says, refusing to lift her head up. 

You practically waddle over to the door, where Matt continues to keep pounding on it, each knock sending another throbbing pain through your head. You open the door, “There was no need to keep banging like that.”

“Well don’t you look beautiful.”

You turn to him, glaring, “Fuck you.” 

He laughs, bringing the food to the table, unpacking everything he got for the three of you; two black coffees, scrambled eggs for the three of you, bacon for him and Emily, chicken sausage for you, pancakes for him, waffles for Em, french toast for you, and the biggest container of home fries you’ve seen in a while that you knew would be split between you and Emily, even if Matt intended it to be for all three of you.

“This is the only reason we keep you around, you know,” Emily says, digging into the food.

“Yeah, we all know that’s true,” Matt says sarcastically, making eye contact with you as you pretty much scarf down the eggs. He has a smirk on his face like you should know what he’s talking about.

“What are you getting at?” you ask through mouthfuls. You were hungover, you didn’t need to be ladylike in front of him and Em. The expression on his face changes. His face is a mixture of confused and shocked like he’s surprised you don’t know whatever it is you’re supposed to know. 

“Uh, nothing.” He shakes his head, the strand of hair falling in his eyes as they turn from you to his food. 

The rest of the time is spent with you and Emily trying to piece together what happened last night. You had figured out: you got there, almost got denied entry because the bouncer thought your ID was fake. Then, you pretty much bee-lined your way to the bar where you both ordered two drinks to start off with, because the bar had a $10 minimum in order to use cards, and you had no cash. You started looking for guys to hook up with, seeing no one you liked. At one point you remember going outside, but you don’t remember what you did other than come back to find Emily with two guys. You were pretty sure they were the two guys you ended up making out with, but she seemed to disagree. She thought you two found two other guys to make out with, but then realized that was something she had talked about in the Uber ride home that was a hypothetical. You pretty much made out with the guys then left, not even remembering their names. You weren’t even sure you had asked them what their names were. But you didn’t care. You just needed to rehydrate yourselves and hope the remaining alcohol would be gone by later tonight.

Matt stayed quiet the entire time. He seemed off, but you had no idea why.

“Welp, that was good, but if you excuse me, I think I’m going to go pass out in my bed.” Emily gets up, leaving you alone with Matt.

He doesn’t say anything. There’s a weird tension in the room until you decide to cut it, “Gryz, what’s wrong?” 

He looks at you, upset. He takes in a breath before letting out, “So, we're just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?”

Your jaw drops. You remembered thinking about it, but you don’t actually remember going through with it. You thought it was just a drunken fantasy, that you would in theory tell him that you loved him. “I’m sorry, I did what?” 

“Do you not remember?” 

“No,” you admit. That part of the night was fuzzy. You remember going outside for air. You remember thinking about it. But you don’t remember doing it.

He just takes out his phone. “Do you want to hear the message you left me?” 

You don’t even know what words to say. You were scared of what the message said, but you just nodded your head anyway.

‘Hey, so, we’ve been acting weird around each other lately,’ your drunk voice from last night slurring through the speaker. It was the message you didn’t think you had sent, having no memory of actually dialing him in the first place. ‘Actually, we have been forever. And it might be drunk me talking, but it’s because I’m in love with you, and I have been. I’m not sure about what you’re feeling, but I know for me, it’s you. You. Ok, bye.’

You were mortified. You get up from the table, your hands on your face, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter to yourself, starting to pace the kitchen. 

“Y/N-” Matt starts, getting up from the table to try to stop you from pacing. 

“No, it’s fine. If you want to leave I get it. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I actually called you and told you that. What the fuck is wrong with me?” You can feel your friendship start to break now that you know what you did. How would he ever be friends with you knowing that you liked him? You could blame it on the alcohol. He heard you and Em talking about how drunk you guys got, it wouldn't be so unheard of that you were just calling people and saying things. “I was drunk. I didn’t mean it,” you lie to him.

“You didn’t?” He takes you by the arms, stopping you from pacing, pretty much forcing you to look him in the eye. He looks almost hurt that you said you were lying.

“Uh, yeah. What do you not want me to be?”

“Jesus, Y/N, I don’t know,” he says, letting go of you, starting to pace himself, running his hands through his hair. “You told me the other night that you had your eye on someone and part of me was hoping you were talking about me? But I didn’t even realize it until the other night when I remembered you were going out for the sole purpose of hooking up. How do you think I feel knowing that the girl I love doesn’t think I love her enough and has to go out and get someone else?”

It’s your turn to grab him by the arms to steady him. “And what about me? You’re in the National fucking Hockey League. You’re a professional athlete with this amazing life. You could get literally any girl you wanted, meanwhile I work at a job that I hate, that gives me enough money for me to have an extra ten dollars a month after I pay off all my bills and student loans. I can’t even get a guy to look at me unless Emily provokes it.” 

“You both love each other! Do something about it or shut up!” Emily yells from her room.

Emilys voice made both of you freeze. You had been too nervous to do something about it for all this time, were you about to change all of that now? 

You didn’t know who kissed who. You were probably still too hungover to even be able to tell, anyway. You didn’t even care. His lips moved with yours, his tongue swiping the bottom of your lip as you felt yourself start to smile that this was finally happening. You never thought that this would actually happen. 

[omgellendean]

I don’t get why the plot was necessary at all. They clearly had no issue cutting certain plots. Why not just choose to not have a teenage girl be tortured and sexually abused? Theon could have escaped on his own or Sansa &/or Jon could take back the north because Ramsey shouldn’t have it and has already done awful things. Why was the r*pe plot more important than Stoneheart or Aegon? If they didn’t like whatever was happening with Sansa in the Vale, they could have just given small glimpses or gave her a plot of marrying Harry if he existed or sweetrobin, but not consummating. Then, she’d have an army. Or they could just do anything other than the dumb r*pe plot. Jeyne deserves better in the books and isn’t even given a point of view and I don’t understand why that’s a story they needed to translate at all.

Gosh, this answer got ridiculously long. Guess I needed to talk about that dumb show, lol. And I probably need to preface all of this with a warning: I don't hate this storyline. For the most part, I’m annoyed about the way fandom leaves GRRM’s part in it and angry at how showrunners left actors to face the backlash from the viewers. I see problems in this story arc, of course, but Winterfell plot in both show and the book resonates with me strongly. I also don't think rape is an unacceptable element of the story or character motivation — it all depends on how it's written. Finally, English isn't my native language, and while I tried to be careful, there may be poorly worded passages or tone issues, and I'm sorry about that. 

I can think of several reasons for keeping this plot.

First of all, they didn't want to waste a perfectly good (in their eyes) storyline by replacing it completely with their own. It seems to me that the show writers were more or less aware of their limitations as authors, and that's why they used the book material as much as possible even when changing the plot or making it up on the go. For example, in the show, Arya is Tywin's cupbearer, which never happened in the books, but their dialogues are almost all lifted from the book text — mostly from Theon's chapters. When writers skipped or changed a storyline, they didn't just throw away stuff from it but reused it whenever they could, sometimes shoehorning characters into each other's arcs. That didn't always work perfectly, of course: say, with so many elements of different storylines given to Arya, her writing at times felt shallow and inconsistent. Or, remember how they rewrote Alys Karstark's replies for Sansa, and it started the "Sansa WaS MeAn to Jon" discourse? But in the end, it is easier to adapt a text you actually have and invent something based on it, rather than make something completely new, especially when you have a strict time limit.

Another obvious reason could be the fact that the show was coming to the end of its second act, and writers needed to start tying off their storylines and get rid of the characters they didn't need anymore, not add new ones. Writers also knew that Sansa isn't in the Vale for long — a fact they referenced several times, IIRC, — and I guess they knew she will come to Jon for help and join him in retaking Winterfell. 

The Vale never played a big role in the show, for better or worse. It was sidelined for two seasons, with literally no one caring about it. In season 4, this storyline had, like, four characters (one of them a kid with almost no lines) + two or three extras. To give Sansa a proper arc there, showrunners would have to basically make up the new location with a bunch of new characters completely from the scratch. All that just for one season, because then Sansa has to get to the Wall, and the Vale can fuck off again. I guess writers didn't see much sense in it, and tbh I can't blame them. They already had Dorne for this, anyway, and we all know how it went. 

Instead, they saw an opportunity to drastically cut off the excess storylines, while also giving Sansa a season arc, getting her and Theon to the next point in their stories and dealing with the Boltons.

At the same time, again, I never hated season 5. It is obviously just my opinion, but this storyline, leaning heavily on Martin's writing, felt stronger than some others, for which the book material was already running out. Despite its glaring (and constant for the show) problem with the handling of sexual abuse, Winterfell arc has pretty strong characterisations, high stakes for everyone involved, and some great scenes between characters. I will go into my grave saying that Sansa & Theon's scenes were underappreciated, but also, Roose and Ramsay? Ramsay and Theon? Hell, Ramsay and Sansa? That's some good battle of wills there, even though it was painful to watch. 

And the last reason I can see is that writers just never thought it would be a problem. They always were terribly tone-deaf and at best heavyhanded when dealing with difficult themes. Especially rape and sexual abuse. With Martin being not much better at this, GoT was full of gratuitous sexual violence so much that it became its trademark. One of season 4 episodes opens with women being brutally raped. Season 2 has several scenes of violence against sex-workers. Hell, the very first episode of the show has the rape of the teen girl in it!

And honestly, that's the main problem of season 5 — the thoughtlessness and lack of care. People quote GRRM's words, "Oddly, I never got pushback for that in the book because nobody cared about Jeyne Poole that much," as the call-out for the fandom, and maybe it is. But to me, it seems like a genuine surprise — and the reason why we got the story we got. They just never saw a problem with this and didn't expect the backlash.

And yes, the reasoning for all of it happening was really lame, and I agree with most of the critique. However, I must say that skipping the propper consistent buildup of the story and character motivations for the sake of !plot twists! has been a problem in this show since the start. It's not something that appeared only in season 5. GoT strongest suit was always its great multilayered characters and their clashes with each other. Logic, consistency and (quite ironically) realism always came second to this.

Maybe writers could've chosen the way you suggest, keeping Sansa's scenes minimal and just getting her to the Wall somehow behind the scenes, but honestly, is that really a better option than what she got? Not in Watsonian sense, as if she were a real teenager, but for Sansa as the character? Stoneheart and Aegon were secondary characters (and tbh I never liked Stoneheart and wish GRRM would just let Cat die), and that's why they were cut off, but Sansa is one of the main. Keeping her out of the story would make her a huge disservice, the same way it did Bran.

Taking away that storyline would also hurt Theon's characterisation. This post is already too long, so let's just say I disagree that it would be ok to just make him escape Ramsay. Aside from the fact that we would lose an amazing bond between Theon and Sansa, it would contradict his character journey and take away from the main themes of his story.

And maybe I am alone in this, but honestly, there are things that I really appreciate about this whole storyline. I just wish it were handled with greater care, both by GRRM and the showrunners.