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writinganon1 · 1 month ago

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@cokoweee

Ya’ll ever have a dream so lifelike it feels aggressively real until one thing goes a little too wrong and then you start to realize that maybe you’re in a dream but it’s also too real to convince yourself it’s not real that you can’t wake yourself up?

TW: panic attack, I say gun, uhhh blood ig? Bishop says a kinda weird thing but that's just him bein him

can I say blood? last time I did it marked me as mature...

Her heart thumped against her chest, lactic acid building in her legs as she ran. She tapped furiously at her phone, fingers slipping over the screen as she tried to deploy Sheldon.

Donnie says “no no no” chimed a pixilated picture of Othello, his finger waving back and forth.

“What the-” She slammed against a wall, her shoulder crunching against the brick.

His stupid programming on the poor thing to keep Sheldon at his house. Maybe she could override it?

No, not enough time. She was just going to have to run and hope for the best.

Her shoulder screamed in protest as she climbed the ladder in the alley. Scrambling over the side of the building to catch her breath, she tapped at the screen again.

There had to be something she could do to foil his programming. She wiped at her nose, the cold still not quite gone even after days of bed rest. Bullets flew over the edge of the building, seemingly locking on to her body heat. Throwing herself at the ledge at the last second to force the bullets to crash into the wall she coughed violently, phlegm coating her throat.

Stupid sickness.

Stupid Othello leaving her with the stupid rabbit farmer.

She pushed herself off the ground, arms struggling under the weight of herself. It was as if every muscle in her body was on fire, each fiber screaming at her to stop. She gulped raising her head over the ledge. Agent Bishop was standing on the adjacent rooftop, his face curled into a sneer, eyes unblinking despite the sun in his eyes.

He waved at her, fingers waggling in the air as he pulled a small gun from his pocket. Aiming it directly at her chest he grinned, his eyes flickering with something distinctly unhuman.

She stumbled backward, her feet skidding over the concrete as he seemed to lock onto her. Loose rock dug into her knees as she clambered over the rooftop.

Away.

All she needed to do was get away.

She placed a hand over her stomach, feeling the raised bump of the scar, as she moved.

This was…

This was wrong?

It didn’t happen this way.

No. She didn’t need to get away, she needed to get out.

The bullet ripped into her skin, tearing away at muscle, and shattering the bone in her rib.

She screamed, blood pouring from the gaping hole in her chest, as Bishop moved closer. He walked to her side, footsteps clanking against the concrete.

Clawing at the ground she dragged her body along the roof, rocks digging under her nails. Bishop laughed, his foot trampling her hand, digging it into the ground. She gasped, breathing shallowly as she fought to get loose.

He grabbed her hair, wrapping it between his fingers and tightening his grip as he pulled her from the floor.

“Oh, this is wonderful.” He smiled, voice dripping with venom. “Such a pretty little thing I caught this evening. I’ve been dying to chat with you.” He pulled her hair up, forcing her to rise. “I wonder if she’ll do any tricks?”

She spat in his face, her ears filled with an all-consuming ringing.

Away.

She needed to get away.

It didn’t matter how. She needed to get away.

He said something else, flaunting some sort of mechanism he had hidden in his shirt. She tried to focus on his words, but her breathing was too shallow, her limbs too shaky, the ringing too loud for her to hear a word.

She clamped a hand over her chest, a sorry attempt to staunch the flow of blood from the gaping hole in her body. Cursing softly she watched as the red seeped into a slithering pink fleshy mass.

She stifled a scream as the pink turned an orange maroon, her own blood fueling some sort of monster.

“Shhhhhhh.” Bishop whispered against her ear, “It’ll be done soon. Just one quick slash and you’ll be out of my hair for good.”

The mass jumped forward, faster than she could comprehend, her body spasming in pain as she scrambled back.

Was this the Krang she’d heard so much about after she’d left the jail? Weren’t they supposed to be mindless or something?

It lunged forward again, tentacles lashing toward her face. Bishop shook her in front of him, like a toy for a dog.

“Kendra?”

She screamed as he tightened his grip on her, shaking her around like a bag of flour. The world around her turned hazy, her vision blurring in and out.

She wasn’t going to go out without a fight.

Throwing her head back she jammed her skull into his chin, breaking the grip he had on her hair.

She clawed at the ground, a strange silky feeling coating her fingers. Pushing away the softness of what was sure to be Krang, she kicked at the mass as it wiggled unnaturally.

“KENDRA!” A familiar voice shouted at her, a gentle three-fingered nubby touch against her arm.

Her eyes flew open, arms flailing to the sides to swat at what was left of the Krang matter, as hands held her back. She gasped, her chest heaving as a sinking feeling hit her gut. Dread splashed over her head like a wave, drowning her, leaving nothing but fear.

Eyes widening she looked next to her for Tello, horrified as darkness encroached on her vision, leaving her staring through a pin hole. Nausea rolled through her stomach as she gasped for air, her chest shuddering to keep up with her breathing.

It hurt. It hurt so bad.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He whispered, hand placed against her back. “It’s ok you’re home. You’re with me.”

She jerked backward. He was loud. So so loud. Even with the ringing in her ears, he was too loud.

Breaths were punched from her lungs faster than she could finish taking them in. Tears streamed down her face as her eyes blew wide. Her chest tightened, lungs twisting as she shook.

She’s dying. She has to be dying. There’s no other explanation.

Dead in her room from a nightmare-induced heart attack,

Her eyes flickered back and forth over the room, not focusing on anything, just wildly scanning for danger she knew wasn’t there. Willing her arm to move, she let out a chocked warble.

The room seemed to melt around her. Things blurred together, a fuzzy abstract painting of almost-real-life. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tightened her muscles.

Her whole body shook as she tried to take steadying breaths.

“Did you know softshell turtles only have half a plastron?”

She was in the middle of dying.

She most definitely did not need turtle facts right now.

“Technically a full one, but it’s covered by skin, rendering it effectively useless for plastron purposes.” He shrugs. “Same deal as the shell.”

She looked at him, confusion breaking through the panic.

“Makes us really flexible though. Wanna see?”

He got off the bed, walked to the middle of the room, and bent backward. He smiled upside down at her from the floor and smoothly brought himself back up.

“Pretty neat huh?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Bet no other turtle you meet could do that.”

Amusement rippled through her as she watched him demonstrate his stretches and various yoga poses.

“I’ve never met another turtle like you.” She breathed, some of the panic melting away.

“Precisely! No one can do it like me!” He said, pointing his finger at her triumphantly before his face softened. “ We starting to feel a bit better?”

She brought her thumb and pointer finger close together. A little

He nodded. “Am I good to come back up or do you need some space?”

She patted the bed next to her, inviting him closer. She waited until he was seated comfortably before slumping against his shoulder, exhausted.

He shifted slightly, reaching for his phone with one hand, the other wrapped around her. He let them sit for a moment, reminding her to breathe every few seconds before Sheldon zipped into the room.

He whispered something to Othello before zooming out of the room. She watched passively as it happened, her body still not quite connected to her soul.

Sheldon returned moments later, a bag of ice, a bottle of water, a cookie, and tub of lavender lotion in his little propeller arms.

Othello took them from him, patted his head, and shooed him away. Taking one of the ice cubes he flattened out her hand and placed it in her palm.

She jerked slightly at the sensation of cold in her hand, surprised when he placed another in her palm.

“Focus on the melting.” He said, voice low and gentle.

The ice filled the lines of her hand and dripped over the sides and down her arm. She shivered as the water pooled in her hand. Othello grabbed the cookie from the pile he had created and broke off half to give to her.

“Thanks?”

He watched her carefully. “What does it taste like?”

“A cookie?” She said through a mouthful, her hands still full of TV static.

“I need details.” He pressed.

She paused, taking a moment to consider the flavors in her mouth. “Vanilla, chocolate chips.” She took another bite. “ Like I left it in the oven a minute or two too long and overcooked them just slightly.”

She’d have to make another batch, this time keeping an eye on the time.

He pressed an uncapped water bottle into her hand. “Drink.”

She pressed the bottle to her lips, feeling the way the cold blossomed against her skin as she held it there. Quietly observing the way she could feel it go down her throat and into her stomach.

“Are we feeling more alive?”

She nodded, running her hand along her thigh to feel the fabric of her pajama pants as she pressed her head against his side.

“Good.” He murmured, sleep creeping into his voice. “You had a panic attack I’m pretty sure.”

“...Sorry it was for something stupid.”

“I get worked up over stupid stuff too.” He mumbled, eyes half closed.

“Your stuff isn’t stupid.” She countered.

“Then neither is yours.”

She stopped, lifting her head to look up at him.

He grabbed her hand, flexing the fingers for her. “You feel ok?”

“I don’t know.” She answered honestly.

He nodded and guided her to a lying position. “Tell me five of your favorite things.”

She paused, looking around the room. “Hmmmmm. You.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. Uhhh, lavender. The color purple. Satin jackets. Baking. Messing around in the lab. Oh, I guess that’s more than five.”

He tapped her shoulders rhythmically, “You can keep going if you need to.”

She took in a deep breath. “I think I’m ok now.”

“Positive?”

Nodding she pulled the blankets over herself. What she really needed was rest. She was so exhausted from the whole ordeal that the idea of doing anything else felt impossible.

He got off the bed again, searching beneath the bedframe for something before he pulled a large purple blanket from under the bed. She blinked in surprise as he placed it over her, a weight holding her down to the bed.

“I should’ve mentioned it was weighted.”

She pulled her hand out to give a quick thumbs up as he climbed back into bed. She shifted to hold out her arm for a hug. He smiled and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“You smell like you’ve been using my soap.” She grumbled against his plastron.

He shrugged. “ I like the way you smell.”

Rolling her eyes she tugged the blanket higher over her shoulders smiling as soft chirping filled the room, the sound he always made right as he fell asleep.

“Good night Tello.” She whispered.

His plastron vibrated as he churred back, gently running circles through her hair.

She was home. And she was safe.

squad don't write stuff at four AM I'm pretty sure this only makes sense to me at this point. Anyway I was listening to my pretty princess playlist while writing this 💁‍♀️

the reason why this was written is in the tags btw

#Me and my friend were hanging out and she got all excited when I told her I was minoring in creative writing #she asked for me to read me some of my stuff and I agreed LIKE AN IDOIT #well i open my docs and low and behold it's what I posted yesterday #mind you that doc is titled ugly sewer man and his pretty wife #i scroll before she can see the title but at this point I have to read this one #its too late for me to exit the doc without me being suspicious #I read it and she's all like “Well butter my backside and call me a biscuit I forgot you wrote but you do a pretty dang good job!”#I'm just sweating bullets coz I just read her my fanfic of Donatello the ninja turtle and Kendra the dragon chick #she'll never know and I'll never tell her that she was read kendratello fanfic with the names and some of the words replaced #its worth it to say that this isn't the first time that this has happened with her #last time it was the freaking really long one with Leo dying dead and Don also trying to die dead #i went home and cooked myself some pasta to recover because wtf was that #and I was so upset by the situation that instead of sleeping I wrote more kendratello fanfic?#pee pee poo poo #caca dodo even #FOUR AM BABY AND IM STILL HEREEEEEE #Ya'll also got some free stuff to use to help a hommie out if they ever start having a panic attack #tapping method will work on yourself as well if you start feeling freaked out or not in your body.#just cross your arms over your torso and put your left hand on your right shoulder and vice versa tapping your shoulders one at a time #im sleepin now #gn yall #Paige writes

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whetstonefires · 6 days ago

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#4 please !

Now see this could be tricky, because generally if I don't get some key elements written down very quickly the idea flows away again and the 'yet' disappears, even if I remember generally what it was about, but I have one this time! I am still just enough plagued by this vision that it's not out of the question I'll go for the capture, but so far nada.

Idea was basically a Jiang family character study by way of modern au. (So tw canonical abuse.) I started from the reflection, in a modern au very high chance the Jiangs are divorced, because being a divorcee wouldn't necessarily ruin Yu Ziyuan in the modern world, as long as she was allowed to control the narrative enough that she didn’t look at fault, so it might be on the table.

Especially because modern views on child abuse are such that while she'd hold back more than she already does in terms of physical chastisement, Jiang Fengmian would also be under less societal pressure to not interfere in her disciplinary system too much, and both these factors mean he’s more likely to put his foot down.

So, concept: Jiang Fengmian, when his son is eight and his daughter thirteen, forces the issue of taking in his best friends' abused orphan child whom he’s just managed to track down in a nightmarish group home, probably leveraging the fact that wherever their money comes from it's mostly his, something he usually doesn't do, but she has always known he could, and been fucked up about it (reasonable) and hated him a little (less so) and hates him so much more now (understandable but still fucked up).

They were obviously still both pressured into this marriage by their families, because I literally cannot imagine them choosing one another of their own free will, and if they did that would be an au in an even more dramatic way than being modern, and no longer work as a character or relationship study as far as I'm concerned. I mean or it’s a cql-based au, but that’s not the version of this toxic marriage I find compelling.

Situation subsequently deteriorates to the point that when the boys are around twelve some outside party observes and is repulsed or otherwise upset by Yu Ziyuan's treatment of Wei Wuxian specifically--she's emotionally abusive to everyone in the family, canonically, and it harms Jiang Cheng significantly more than Wei Wuxian, which I think is also pretty explicit on the page, but she's more openly antagonistic about going after wwx because he's basically a proxy for her husband, whom she doesn't consider to be someone she's capable of harming.

And ofc in a modern family scenario, being abusive to your foster kid is more plainly personal misconduct than being unfair in how you discipline one of your husband's many students, even if it is his favorite. Which means she's very unlikely to chase him around with a whip, but whatever she does do will sting that much more emotionally.

Anyway the outside judgement provokes a more explicit confrontation than the last four years of maneuver and attempting to balance all the competing needs according to two very different standards. And the upshot is that by the time wwx is 13, the Jiangs are divorced. To avoid making a humiliating spectacle of themselves they present a weirdly united front in court and have a very smooth uncontested proceding, although the closed meetings with their respective lawyers involved a lot of vitriol.

Yu Ziyuan, despite having a smallish trust fund and probably a job of some kind, though one that's more prestigious than profitable like uh. Olympic fencing coach. Idk what they make but it's probably not enormous. She and Cangse Sanren probably competed in the same events back in the day.

Anyway she gets a solid chunk of alimony, the house, and primary custody of both her children, although Jiang Yanli is almost 18 at this point so mostly she just gets Jiang Cheng. Everyone thinks Jiang Cheng wants it that way, including sort of Jiang Cheng; he has this idea that if he has his mom to himself they'll finally have a good relationship, even though he's also terrified of being left all alone with her. He's complicated. Families are complicated.

Also she would never have forgiven him if he hadn't concurred that he wanted to stay with his mother because she was the only one On His Side.

Jiang Yanli ofc does not move out right away when she comes of age, in part because her brother needs her, but she probably does go to college, so she's only around part-time.

Jiang Fengmian, meanwhile, keeps most of his financial assets and Wei Wuxian, and gets his kids on the weekends.

So that's all setup for how you have this situation where Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are entering high school--probably the same school, together, but no longer sharing the commute except maybe Monday mornings--and Wei Wuxian's primary residence is Jiang Cheng's dad's apartment.

It’s really chill. They get a cleaning service in once a week and eat a lot of delivery food, but they do cook at least once a week. The canonical thing where they largely agree about what’s funny and what’s right-or-wrong, and so forth, on the one hand really pops when there’s mostly no external conflict disrupting it, but also probably gains more complexity now that it’s not a thread of positivity fighting for its life against a background of drama. They get to know each other better than they ever had a chance to in canon.

Some of that isn't all that positive, because now they have the space to discover the places where they do actually have the capacity for friction, but both of them are very good at dispersing tension (I do tend to suspect jfm's dad was abusive he sure acts like it), and on the whole it's a good thing.

Jiang Cheng is going to have such a mental health crisis, and Jiang Fengmian is going to handle it so badly. Because of course when his son starts replicating his ex-wife's toxic attitudes and behaviors more now that she has primary custody, he’s going to feel guilty and like it’s His Fault, but he’s going to feel like it’s his fault that Jiang Cheng is growing up to be a shitty abusive person.

And even if he’d never say that the subtext would come through, in the assumptions he made when framing communications and so forth, as in canon, so the thing where Jiang Cheng’s father loves Wei Wuxian more than him, or at any rate likes him better and thinks he’s a better person and prefers his company, would wind up feeding into a self-reinforcing loop.

(Jin Zixuan's nasty public remark about Jiang Fengmian treating Wei Wuxian better than his own children hits Jiang Cheng significantly harder in this scenario, where he's being Tormented by the feeling that all his peers know his dad walked out on him for another son. Wei Wuxian's punch is therefore even more clearly primarily for Jiang Cheng's sake, although Jiang Cheng is probably more inclined to see it as being for his dad's. Jin Zixuan is about halfway between the Jiang kids' ages here, so he's a senior saying this shit to a sophomore.)

So that cycle builds to the point where Jiang Cheng would eventually have one of those rare moments where he resorts to actual violence, because his poisoned feelings are choking him so bad his rationality deserts him.

He’s not going to be nearly as close to actually murdering Wei Wuxian as he was in canon the night the Jiang Sect was massacred, because it’s a less extreme situation, but he still goes for the neck. So Jiang Fengmian is in his home office one Saturday about a year and a half into this new normal, and realizes the boys are fighting. He hears through the wall the accusation you stole my dad. He says to himself, well that’s terrible but interjecting myself into this situation would definitely make it worse.

Then he hears sounds of violence, and then an ominous abrupt silence, and updates that analysis.

And when he opens the door to the boys’ room, Wei Wuxian is being strangled. He’s not really resisting, which is because he’s made the call that that’s way more likely to get Jiang Cheng to snap out of it, and thinks it might make Jiang Cheng feel better to get it out of his system (because he does sort of feel like what Jiang Cheng is going through is all his fault, or at any rate is much worse as a result of decisions made for his sake) and is severely underestimating the dangers of choking, but looks to a third party like he’s already passed out and Jiang Cheng is still at it. Which is to say, it looks like a serious murder attempt on the brink of success.

So that sure made that situation worse!

So yeah that's my idea that I probably won't write but it sure has its teeth in me.

#answers #snarglepop-content #ask #ask game #mdzs #meta #modern au #family drama #character study #i'm really sorry to the person who sent me that madam yu ask i worked on it for SO long but i CANNOT find it in my drafts #i'm hoping i posted it and forgot????#anyway this fic is drawn from conclusions i reached trying to articulate for that ask my thoughts on modern yu ziyuan #and how hard she is to work #because yzy's characterization is pretty exquisitely responsive to her context #in such a way that if you change the context she will either behave differently or become ooc #so she's a major failure point in modern aus because she tends to have her characterization adjusted to fit the needs of the story #its desired beats or themes or whump quota #and if you do this carelessly then either wwx and jc also become ooc #or the story ceases to have consistent internal logic #mdzs is a pretty well-balanced machine!#despite how many elements come across sort of slapdash because mxtx literally did not care about that part #i.e. scale or logistics or history-as-such rather than just some of its societal features #but she didn't care *intentionally* so it's generally insulated from undermining the important beats which is such a good trick ak;kjlsdf #ANYWAY #i'm overly invested in how hard it is to depict this family as shown in the novel #because there's so little information and it's so tempting to disregard some of it to get a simpler narrative #so easy to take madam yu's word about things because she's the only one talking #so easy to punch up the melodrama in the wrong spots or iron out the actual ugly bits #to get something easier to grasp at but less realistic #concept up for adoption if anyone wants btw

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