#people are so creative with tags honestly

[moniquill]

Gonna copy/paste some choice tags from the dumpster fire without attribution (this is not about telling these individuals that they're wrong it's about combatting THE MINDSET)

#whenever i post a fic i have to remind myself that if anyone finds anything sexual that's their problem

Good that you are aware that this is a line of thought that you should not pursue! Kinda weird that you need to remind yourself of this but hey whatever helps you get over it!

#The number of times I have wanted to create certain pieces of media but refrain from it because I know freaks will find a way 2 sexualise it

NOT HEALTHY! You are not impacted by others sexualising your work, and you need to work on your basic attitude and perception if you think it's cool to call other people 'freaks'

#Some things shouldn't be sexualized publicly

What counts as 'public' in this instance? Other people's blogs/communities??

#this.#this makes me so mad#ive seen this literally ruin some friends' creativity and ruin the things they like that ARENT EVEN SEXUAL#i also tend to worry about how these kinds of people will interpret my work but i shouldnt HAVE to think about that#ugh#misc

Fun fact: You DON'T have to think about it! Neither do your friends! Their anxiety is what ruined their creativity - the call is coming from inside the house; that is the thing to be addressed and worked on! Not the thoughts and feelings of OTHER PEOPLE.

#THIS OMG#IT'S SO. KRIFFING ANNOYING AND HARD#especially as a whump writer.#i dont WANT PEOPLE REACTING THAT WAY WITH WHAT I WRITE#but at this point I've kinda given up trying?? Im kind of just doing whatever I want because I KNOW im not doing it like that#im done being responsible for people's dirty minds tbh

When you release a creative work for consumption by an audience, you don't get any kind of say in how they react. It doesn't matter that you don't want people reacting 'that way'. If you cannot accept this, you should not publish works at all.

YOU WERE NEVER RESPONSIBLE FOR OTHER PEOPLE'S MINDS. It's kind of fucked up that you're judging them as 'dirty', unpack that shit.

#THANK YOU THIS IS THE WORST#do you know how hard it is to write something like torture or 'whump' in general without the youtube comments section invading your mind#don't even get me started when it comes to writing certain kinds of magic#and you then have to be like 'is this so prevalent that it would be naive of me to ignore it?#or is it really just the niche corner of Internet freakdom that I think it is?'#speaking also as someone who was frequently teased as a kid for saying things I thought were innocent but were common innuendos#writing

If the youtube comment section is invading your mind, that is strictly a you problem. If it's invading your actual work (in the comments section) that's what the block button is for. You are putting far too much effort into thinking about this.

#I want to have all these kinds of dynamic relationships#there's one I want to develop to have a certain tenor to it#but I know it will become a ship#I'm doing it anyways#but it hurts knowing that there will be people who will read it and ship the characters#when the characters don't actually have any romantic attachment#I know this isn't just about relationships#but it's the thing about this mindset that bothers me most

It is not healthy or normal to be hurt by ideas that you think that other people might be having. That is disordered thinking and you should address it. Other people shipping your characters does not, in fact, harm you.

#I think the big thing is#you don't have to advertise if it's sexual to you#if that one weird thing does it for you#fine!#Just don't tell me

This is actually entirely reasonable! You don't have to subject yourself to reader/viewer reactions that make you uncomfortable! If people are harassing you, block them!

#honestly real#there is such a huge difference between ‘sex is normal and okay’ and ‘you should sexualize everything and everyone’#crazy how people have no capacity to respect ppl’s boundaries

I'm putting the word Boundaries on the high shelf until genZ and gen Alpha learn that they do not refer to the behavior of OTHER PEOPLE.

via https://theartoflivingconsciously.com/set-boundaries/:

Setting boundaries is about knowing what boundaries you want to establish and enforcing them by taking action within yourself. It’s not taking action to control someone else.

A boundary is not “You aren’t allowed to do ______,” it is “If you do _______, I will _______.”

It’s not “don’t yell at me,” “don’t call me before work hours,” or “stop commenting on my weight.”

A boundary is:

“If you yell at me, I will leave the room or hang up the phone.”

“If you call me before 9 am, I will let the call go to voicemail and call you back during work hours.”

“If you keep commenting on my weight, I will stop visiting.”

A boundary is an action YOU take. It’s not forcing someone to act or not to act a certain way, because that’s impossible.

#when people make things inherently not sexual sexual#eye twitch

THIS IS WHAT FETISH IS. THIS IS WHAT KINK IS.

Literally the only thing that is inherently sexual are the genitals of an aroused human being (and arguably orifices) - your own or a partner's. Everything else is kink/fetish. Yes, even tits. Even other anatomical parts. Everything that you find arousing. You are not different or special for only being aroused by shit that the culture you live in deems 'normal'.

I think the biggest shame about people becoming way too comfortable sexualizing everything is that it limits creative freedom. now you have to worry about someone's obscure fetish just in case you write something and you have freaks online like 👀 ayooOOO like shut up man. if you're finding sexual undertones in mundane things, you don't 'see the world differently', you have a mental disorder.

No one should have to carefully scoot around something because the internet has made it ok to see everything through a sexual lens

[ur-local-wizard]

I love the way you write baby, can you honour me with this prompt idea: Mattheo Riddle loses a Quidditch match against his biggest rival, and his anger boils over. Dragging his girlfriend into the locker room, he takes out his frustration on her in a heated, rough moment of intimacy. Afterward, he leaves her shaken to vent elsewhere, but when he returns, he finds her being comforted by his rival. Jealousy and fury take over as he drags her away, scolding her and accusing her of betrayal—though beneath his anger is a fear he’s not ready to admit: that he might’ve pushed her too far this time.

Losing Game

tysm for the request babes!! this was sooo creative! hope you enjoy, it was my first time writing angst 🤭

mattheo riddle x fem!reader, extremely toxic behavior, mentions of sex, characters are of age, i think that's it

w/c: 1106

masterlist

a/n: if there are any tags I missed, pls pls pls let me know!! also, I wasn't sure if i should label it nsfw in my masterlist or not, so if you think it should be tell me and I'll change it!

Angry sex with Mattheo was something you were used to, especially after he lost a quidditch game. Everyone knew he had a temper, and even as his girlfriend, you were not immune to it. But he’s never been so hurtful. Not like this. 

The physical part of it was good, as per usual, but his words struck a deeper chord than normal. The names he called you, the blatant disregard for your feelings, the way his touch felt oppressive instead of loving – it was strange, and honestly overwhelming. 

So that’s how you got here, curled up in the fetal position just outside the quidditch locker room. You barely noticed the muffled sound of footsteps approaching you on the grass. Blinking back more tears, you look up, not expecting to see the Gryffindor Cormac McLaggen of all people. He was one of many on the long list of people Mattheo hated most, and you knew that if your boyfriend saw him of all people in his current tempered state, someone would end up in the hospital wing. 

“You okay?” Cormac asked, crouching in front of you. His tone was softer than you would expect, laced with nothing short of concern and pity. He reached out, and you flinched as his hand brushed your arm. “You’re freezing. Come, let’s get you inside. I don’t want you to contract hypothermia.” 

The warmth of his hand sent a wave of guilt through you, and the combination of your confusion and his touch made you flinch away. He’s right – it’s so cold your fingers are going numb. You weren’t sure if it was the weight of your emotions, your exhaustion, or the sheer cold, but you felt your defenses crumble, allowing him to pull you up and off the ground.

Then the locker room door opened. 

Out walked Mattheo, his presence looming over you like a shadow. His hair was disheveled, his jaw set like stone. His gaze flicked between you and Cormac, his eyes burning with fury. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” He snapped, his voice low and full of nothing but rage and resentment. You opened your mouth to speak, but he roughly grabbed your wrist and pulled you to his side, effectively cutting you off. Your stomach churned, and the emotions swirling inside your gut made you want to puke. 

“You think this is okay?” He scolded you, his gaze narrowing into a glare. “The hell are you doing with this piece of shit?” He motioned to Cormac, scoffing. “And you, what are you doing with my girlfriend?” 

“Mattheo, stop-” Your voice trembled as you began to talk, but the bitter laugh that escaped his lips cut you off. 

  “Don’t even try to explain,” he sneered, his grip so tightening so much it may leave a bruise. His expression was still angry, but something seemed off. Beneath the anger in his eyes, you saw a flicker of something else – something raw. Afraid, maybe. “I leave for five fucking minutes and come back to find you cozying up with Cormac fucking McLaggen.” 

His words hit harder than expected, making the nausea in your stomach only grow stronger. “You’re being ridiculous,” you said, voice quiet but filled with hurt. You pressed your lips together and fought the urge to cry again. 

“Ridiculous? You don’t get to decide that after this little stunt you just pulled.” 

Cormac crossed his arms over his chest, his expression solemn. “Maybe if you treated her better and paid attention to her obvious distress, she wouldn’t be crying out here in the cold,” he retorted. 

The room seemed to freeze at his words. Mattheo’s head snapped toward Cormac, his eyes dark and burning. The tension in the air was suffocating, a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Mattheo hissed.

“I know enough,” Cormac shot back, unwavering. “I know she shouldn’t be out here like this. She could get sick!”  

Mattheo’s jaw clenched so hard it looked like his teeth could grind together into dust. For a moment, it looked like he was going to punch Cormac – he certainly wanted to – and the suspense made you even dizzier than before. But instead, he turned his glare back to you. “Get up. Let’s go.” It wasn’t a question, and you could tell by the tone of his voice it was more of an ultimatum. Stay here, and you would lose him. 

You hesitated, jaw opening and closing, unsure what to say. You didn’t want to fight. Not again. Not when your body already ached from more than just the physicality of what had just conspired in the locker room. So, even after all the hurt he’s caused, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him. He just looked so betrayed, so afraid. 

“Okay,” you conceded, voice barely a whisper. Cormac scoffed, but you didn’t dare look his way as your boyfriend grabbed your wrist again and led you away, his footsteps crushing the grass beneath his feet. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm – as if he was afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear. 

The journey was silent as he dragged you to an empty corridor. The moment the two of you were alone, he spun to face you, his chest rising and falling rapidly with labored breaths. 

“Don’t ever do that again,” he said. 

“Do what?” You asked, brows furrowing.

His fingers twitched at his sides, as if he was fighting the urge to reach for you. “Sitting with him. Letting him touch you. Letting him look at you like – like that.”

You stared at him, disbelief bubbling up past the lingering hurt. “Mattheo, do you even hear yourself? I was sitting there because of you. Because of what you did.”

He looked shocked, but that quickly faded as he realized what you were talking about. He lowered his eyes to the ground, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed his shame. He looked like he wanted to argue, to push back like he always did in situations like this, but something in his expression told you he knew he would finally lose you if he did. For the first time, he looked unsure. 

“Do you even care that you hurt me?” You asked, voice softer now, but still full of lingering hurt. In response, his whole body tensed. A long silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. Then, barely above a whisper, so low you almost missed it, he muttered, “I do.”

It wasn’t an apology – not yet. But you knew it was as close as you were going to get for now. 

Ty again for this request!! I had sm fun writing it! Sorry it took me so long to write, life and school is insane rn

taglist: @ilovejamespottersomuch @mattyriddlesbitch @valenftcrush @sturniolover13 @paankhaleyaaar @thereeallink @voidangxls

©ur-local-wizard translating, republishing, copying, or claiming my work as yours is not permitted. all my work belongs to me and me only. thank you!

[itficlibrary]

This Week's Theme is Fics under 5k words!

The following list contains fics that are under 5,000 words! Writing short fic like this is a real talent, so we'd like to celebrate some we've found!

For fans of light-hearted miscommunications & domesticity, try:

Pushing the envelope by car

(4.6k words)

Uber domestic & fun little fic wherein reddie are living together, and an increasingly jealous Eddie discovers (or so he thinks) Richie’s getting love letters in the mail. Perfect seasonal read for V day!

For fans of Vague Impending Doom and big teenage feelings, try:

You have me there, if it’s a triple dog dare by sulfuric

(1.6k words)

Takes the simple concept of a late night reddie conversation and packs it with angst & character study! A mutually in love teen Eddie and Richie hypothesise about running away, or rather ‘going missing’ together.

For fans of Eddie’s internalised homophobia, try:

we two boys together clinging by ladymemebeth

(2.9k words)

Where 17-year-old richie plucks up the courage to kiss eddie - only eddie can’t bring himself to kiss back, and does some introspection on Why That Is. Such a snappy and clever writing style to this one.

For fans of a very Richie Tozier coming of age, try:

boys will be boys by scullyseviltwin

(3.9k words)

This one really knocked me off my feet for a little while it’s FANTASTIC. Follows a teen Richie as he little by little starts fighting back against his bullies and discovers himself along the way. Ends on a sweet, happy note!

For fans of teen fluff & nostalgic vibes, try:

see the sky by ssstrychnine

(5.3k words)

This fic was posted right after the reboot came out, in september 2017! A gentle & fluffy slice of life of sorts, charting Richie and Eddie’s love for each other from right after summer 1989 up until they go to college.

For fans of middle-aged dude repression & overcoming it via Love, try:

Vessel and veins by lagaudiere

(5.1k words)

Follows richie and eddie in the wake of a love confession, struggling with the physical affection and couple-iness of it all…to such a degree richie ends up in the hospital…This fic is tender and funny with a perfect eddie character study running throughout.

For fans of horror & canon compliant suffering, try:

Hollow by val-creative

(1.3k words)

In only 1000 words, this fic is an absolute fucking sucker punch and i will not be forgetting it anytime soon. Wherein Richie can see dead people as an after effect of the deadlights, namely IT’s victims, ranging from Betty Ripsom to Eddie Kaspbrak. FYI this deals a lot with death & gore, and Richie also attempts suicide in it - please take care!

For fans of Mike Hanlon finally getting to relax and friendship fluff, try:

Better, I think by thewayaround

(2.5k words)

A super feelgood, everybody lives fix-it that starts with Stan showing Mike pics of his and Patty’s trip to Florida, and ends with all the losers taking a trip there together. This has a great Mike POV and I could honestly feel all the stress leaving my body while reading it.

For fans of fantasy & the power of brotherly love, try:

Georgie Denbrough, God of the Kenduskeag by manycoloureddays

(1.1k words)

A whimsical oneshot based on the Rivers of London books, wherein Georgie doesn’t die but rather becomes guardian of the Kenduskeag river & supports the losers throughout their IT-defeating journey.

For fans of heavy angst & richie loneliness, try:

the heartbreak prince (it's you and me, that's my whole world.) by dojin

(3.5k words)

A deliciously miserable study on Richie + grief after the events of IT 2019. It looks at how life keeps moving on for him while he can never stop grieving or loving Eddie, interspersed with heartbreaking still-alive-and-in-love Eddie dream sequences. Heed the tags on this!

For fans of domestic fluff, try:

we get to make it up by zach_stone (2.5k words)

Richie and Eddie spend an afternoon baking gluten free banana bread together! A super cute little glimpse into Reddie’s post chapter two domesticity! 

For fans of Richie suffering (positive), try:

sweet soft fever by moichi ( @clownbrainrot)

(2.5k words)

Eddie asks Richie for advice on creating a Grindr profile. Richie suffers through it. Hilarity ensues.

For fans of outsider PoVs, try:

love is the thing with wings (tweet tweet, richie) by lizifer

(870 words)

The person who sits next to Richie on the plane ride back to Los Angeles snoops on Richie while he's writing a love confession to Eddie.

For fans of sweet reddie bickering, try:

Playing for Keeps by LogicalBookThief ( @logicalbookthief )

(3.3k words)

This is a super cute fic wherein Richie and Eddie go onto one of those Newlyweds shows and absolutely smash it out of the fuckin park. The reddie dynamics are A++!

For fans of poetic, non-linear narratives, try:

what i'm made for has always been you by one whodiedyoung ( @onewhodiedyoung )

(3.5k words)

For fans of cathartic hurt/comfort, try:

the sound of the unlocking & the lift away by anemicaxolotl

(2.4k words)

Eddie-centric post canon events fic that deals with coping with the loss of a limb. Very sweet and cute.

For fans of Richie character studies and Christmas fics, try:

Hoarfrost by bellbawttoms ( @gaylittlerichie )

(5.4k words)

Richie and Eddie host a Christmas get-together, attended by Richie's parents, their emotional support friend, Mike, and Eddie's dog, Seymour. Hilarity ensues.

For fans of explicit fics with a comedic basis, try:

Helping Hand by curiousair

(4.4k words)

Richie gets the hiccups, and he reads online that sticking a finger up your butt can cure them.

For fans of post chapter two fix-it fics, try:

hope it does not heal by signetsealed

(4.9k words)

Post chapter two events, neither Richie nor Eddie can sleep, so they spend some time together, talking about anything and everythig.

[sh0jun]

Okay Hideyoshi

No offense

But that sounded more like a group study project rather than discussing war

[just-horrible-things]

1. What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

I feel like a lot of these questions reveal a very different approach to writing to mine. I don’t set out to impart lessons, I’m not interested in writing didactically. 

Unlikely Salvation has I guess some kind of lesson about change or forgiveness or that hurting people radicalises them and helping each other is the only way to mend rifts or something. But all of that grew organically, and there’s also a lot of fucked up stuff in there, a lot of “don’t try this at home”. Alex is way too forgiving early in the story, that’s not coming from a healthy place, that’s not a moral recommendation. It’s just an interesting thing for him as a character to do.

I think my other stories are further from having any “lessons” in them. Shit just happens, in some kind of sequence.

2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Large parts of the Resistance ‘verse were made up by my co-author, so I can’t speak to that. The structure and behaviours of the feds are mostly based on reading about real-world fascist organisations.

My BBU works are obviously very heavily inspired by other BBU stories, especially the way @ashintheairlikesnow writes it.

Annihilation is purely vibes. I’m throwing in everything that feels cool to me at the time and I couldn’t name where those ideas are coming from. (I’m more likely to be able to put my finger on it in retrospect, once the shape of it comes clearer.)

3a. What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them?

Ariadne, my prime blorbo, is primarily motivated by seeking atonement, and by seeking Victory for her Cause.

Smith and Spider are mostly just trying to survive. Spider later trying to carve out her own identity.

Nikef is trying to win a war, preferably without losing what’s left of her selfhood along the way. Ahden is trying to keep Nikef alive and sane and not deciding to murder everyone.

I, the writer, am trying to tell interesting stories with characters who feel three-dimensional and textured.

3b. Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness or help the reader grow as a person?

No.

4. How many chapters is your story going to have?

Don’t know, don’t care. I’m not trying to write complete, finished things at this time in my life. Honestly I find the notion a bit intimidating, and while I’m sure I could do it and probably will at some point in the future, at the moment writing is mostly an outlet for random creative energy. I write out of order and at a whim.

5. Is it fan fiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content. Only putting it on tumblr at present. If tumblr went away or became intolerable, I’d probably move it somewhere else, since enough people seem to enjoy it.

6. When did you start writing?

I don’t remember a time when I didn’t, honestly. Probably around the time I learned to, physically, write. There have been years and patches of years where my output was very low, but I’ve always made up stories and scrawled at least some of them down.

7a. Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr?

It’s been said before, but write whatever you feel like writing. If you enjoy your story, if it matters to you, if it has meaning to you, that stuff will come through in your writing.

Don’t worry too much about quality. You’re always learning, you can always go back and edit stuff if you want it to be better. Stressing too much about the quality of output just gets you stuck in a loop of infinite editing or worse feeling too bad to write at all.

7b. What other writers do you follow?

So many. I’ve recently listed a few favourite stories. I’m following *checks* 279 blogs write now and I’d estimate 90% of them are writers.

—

I’m terrible at coming up with people to tag but uhhhh @mottinthemainpot, @justplainwhump ? No pressure.

Tag Game: Author Ask Tag

thxxxxxxx @sacratos for the tag!

Question Template: 1. What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it? 2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding? 3. What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness or help the reader grow as a person? 4. How many chapters is your story going to have? 5. Is it fan fiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it? 6. When did you start writing? 7. Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

1. What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it? 

Don’t be an idiot and actually communicate with those you love, lol. In all seriousness, I don’t know if my story has a main theme, but there are several themes for sure. The importance of having family that loves and supports you (whether found or biological), taking back autonomy of oneself, and the importance of community.

2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding? 

Other BBU/pet whump authors! If you have written for the BBU, trust me, I have used some idea of yours as inspiration somewhere. I also use middle school me’s obsession with dystopian novels as inspiration as well.

3. What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness or help the reader grow as a person? 

All my MCs are trying to heal, in one way or another and I want my readers to connect with my characters in some way. Not really teaching a lesson or having some big, major theme, but I want my characters to feel real and connect with the readers (yes, even if you want to kill them you cannot touch Star, he is immune from death)

4. How many chapters is your story going to have? 

Hahahaha ha ha ha. . . yeah, no clue

5. Is it fan fiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it? 

Original content from my brain! I post it here, and only here

6. When did you start writing? 

The minute I learned what stories were. I think I wrote my first “story” (bible fanfiction. No I will not be taking questions about that) when I was about seven or so, then my first full fanfiction at nine and I have not stopped since. 

7. Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

Read! Seriously, I cannot stress this enough! Read! And not just to compare yourselves with other writers–please don’t do that at all–but read to see how others write emotion, descriptions, characters, plots! Take what you like and figure out why you don’t like other kinds of writing, then apply what you want to your own writing. Also, your writing voice will develop in time. Don’t worry about that.

A large chunk of people I follow are writers! Can’t list all of them here, but they know who they are and their writings have inspired and shaped both my style and my content. Ilyasm! 

Tagging (w/o any pressure!) @quietly-by-myself @whump-card @sparrowsage @whumble-beeee @whumpyourdamnpears and anyone else who wants to join in!

[the-broken-pen]

Hi! I love love LOVE your writing so much!!!❤️❤️(it’s the only thing sometimes that can help me reorient myself when life sucks)-

Idk if you’ve already written a work like this- but could you write about a villain who fakes being in a relationship with hero to get information. Hero absolutely loves them and thinks that they can finally be happy….but then Villain breaks their heart- while saying they never loved them and that it was all a lie.

and then later on Villain regrets it and realizes they are actually obsessed with hero and go full psycho?

The hero had spent their childhood watching as their parents fought viciously with one another. Slamming doors and breaking plates, and then sullen, withdrawn and nearly silent conversations illuminated only by the dying lamp in the corner of the living room. Whatever the hero’s parents had, it wasn’t love, and never would be. The hero had no way of knowing if it ever had been. 

And then the hero had watched as time after time, their sister loved someone with her whole heart and was left shattered on the hero’s doorstep at the end of it. Fairytales that ended with no happy ending, ripped up love notes and a hundred playlists made for people their sister could no longer bear to name out loud.

The hero had watched their entire family reach for love and fall flat every time, and had resigned themself to a fate of the kind of heartbreak you cannot escape. The kind that hangs over heads like a cloud and fogs mirrors.

And then–

The villain. The hero had met the villain, and the villain had smiled, and they thought maybe, just maybe, they had beaten the curse. That they were meant for the soft kind of love they had only imagined when they were young, before the pain of it got too great.

The hero had let the villain intertwine themself into the hero’s life, and they had thought they were okay. They had thought they had made it. 

Which was why, now, they couldn’t seem to make themself think anything sensical at all.

The villain settled the file in front of the hero gently, on the table they had picked out together with as much care as one was capable of. They almost, almost, looked like they regretted it, face soft and breakable.

The villain cleared their throat in the silence. “If you just read it–”

“What, can’t say it yourself?”

The villain stopped, swallowing. This was the first time in a very long time the hero had seen them look unsure.

The hero scoffed at them. “I know about Project Pegasus.”

The villain went very, very still. They looked down towards the folder.

“So then–”

“This?” the hero picked up the folder, waving it once. They tossed it onto the floor without looking. “I’ve already read it. Two weeks ago.” They stared at the villain, and did their best not to blink. “I just hoped it was fake.”

The hero wondered if maybe, this was what had happened to their parents. If they had spent all of that time fighting and hating one another and crying in darkened rooms just so they could spend the rest of it constantly reaching back towards one another. Pretending that the file wasn’t real. That the fights were nothing more than a blip in existence and not the roots of a rot so deep it would never be fully cut out of them. 

They had wondered about a lot of things, curled on the bathroom floor around that wretched file, but mostly they had wondered if they had always been meant to end up here. If this was what being doomed felt like. 

The villain blinked.

“You hoped it was fake.”

The hero felt a little like they couldn’t breathe. They sucked a shallow breath in through their nose anyways. 

“If you–” their voice broke. “If you were me, would you want to believe it?”

The villain’s shoulders, almost imperceptibly, slumped.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, are you?”

“Yes,” the villain said, but in the space where they should have explained themself, where they should have said it was fake, and that they loved the hero more than anything, and that this little apartment meant everything to them–they said nothing.

“So, what,” the hero snapped, voice wet with barely held back tears. “You’re going to tell me you didn’t mean for me to fall in love with you? That this was an accident? That you’re sorry again? That you never meant to hurt me–”

“No,” the villain corrected gently. “You were always meant to fall in love with me.”

A tiny sob wormed its way out of the hero’s throat before they could stop themself, and they pressed their shaking fist to their mouth before anything else could follow, turning away.

“It was just about the information,” the villain said, and the hero shoved themself back from the table, just to get further away from the love of their life.

“You knew what you were doing,” the hero said bitterly. “You know me. You knew. You knew I would never be able to get over this, and you did it anyways–”

“It’s my job,” the villain protested, and it took the hero everything in them to remain standing. “It wasn’t personal.”

“You made yourself my world, you made yourself into my everything, you made me fall in love with you–”

“I never made you do anything.”

“Don’t say that. You don’t get to say that. This was your goal, wasn’t it? Own up to your accomplishments. Go on. Tell me how proud you are. Do it.”

“Hero.”

“I loved you,” the hero was screaming, maybe.

And there it was. Past tense.

Loved.

The villain stepped back like the hero had slapped them.

“Hero,” their voice was barely a whisper.

The hero picked up the file. Rifled through it once more.

“Hero–”

The hero held out the file. The villain didn’t take it, hands remaining limp at their side.

“Take it.” They gestured with the file. “Take it, and get out.”

The villain sucked in a breath.

“Hero,” the villain said again, uselessly. 

“Tell me you love me, then. Tell me you meant it.” They gestured to the file once more. “Tell me that this is the lie.”

“I can’t.”

“Tell me.”

The villain opened their mouth, and for a second, the hero hoped–

“I don’t love you.” 

The hero wished the villain had just killed them. 

“I never loved you. It was all a lie. A really, really pretty lie.”

The hero wanted to say something elegant to that. Something biting and vicious and jagged in the same way the inside of them felt right now. They wanted to say everything they had felt earlier, every thought that had cut them so that it could cut the villain too.

Instead, all they managed was a choked, “Get out.”

They threw the file at the villain.

The villain didn’t bother to catch it, letting it slam into their chest. It thudded against the floor, papers spilling out in a halo around the villain’s feet.

A part of them wanted the villain to argue further.

A part of them just wanted the villain dead.

“I’m sorry,” the villain said once more, and then they were gone.

The villain had known as soon as the hero had thrown that file that they wanted the villain dead. 

That they were more likely to claw their own bones apart than willingly reach for the villain’s hand again, and the logical part of their brain was viciously pleased about it.

It made this whole thing easier. No lingering attachments to further butcher. Just a field, burned so badly nothing would ever grow in it again, and god, wasn’t that convenient for their mission. 

A tiny, smothered part of their brain, however, wouldn’t stop screaming.

They drowned it.

But then the villain would catch themself glancing to their side in search of a smile. They would wait a beat too long after they said something, would wait for laughter, and then there would be none, and they would curse themself for it, and that little part of them would come gasping back to life and start screaming again.

Possibly it was that little part of them that had made them send a message to the hero, offering the apartment. It was the least they could do, right? Fuck up their life and then get the fuck out of it. 

But the texts had said delivered, but never read, and three days later when the villain used their key to open the lock, they found themself stepping into a mausoleum and not a home. 

They weren’t sure what they were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Dust hanging in the air. Blank squares left on the walls where pictures had once hung. Empty cabinets, empty floors, empty rooms; no, whatever they had been expecting, it wasn’t this.

For a reason they couldn’t name, they went from room to room, searching for something without quite understanding what. It wasn’t until they had come full circle back into the living room, fingers coated in dust and an aching chest, that the villain had realized. Ghosts. They were looking for ghosts. 

Because there was nothing better to describe the way they felt right now other than haunted. And if there was something, anything, of the hero left in here to burn, to destroy, to exorcise, they could use it as an excuse–

There was nothing left of the hero. There were no ghosts. This place was just dead.

The villain made a shuddering little sound, and slammed the front door closed behind them when they managed to stumble into the hallway. 

This was an easy mission, it was–

–two years and dates over ramen and houseplants–

–something even a new recruit could do–

–i love you’s in the dark and the scent of the hero on all of their clothes and–

–something the villain was trained for, countless hours spent–

–laughing and crying and rainy days and sunny ones–

–learning how to fake love, and somehow–

–the villain had forgotten it was fake.

The villain couldn’t breathe.

The villain had forgotten they weren’t supposed to fall in love, too.

The villain had forgotten they weren’t supposed to fall in love too, and they had just set their entire world ablaze around themself.

Fuck.

It really only made sense, then, that they found themself standing on the roof of their old apartment building as it burned. And when that didn’t work, they moved onto the next, until a third building went up in flames beneath their feet. They knew the kind of message it would send, and they knew exactly who that message would get sent to–

The hero landed on the other end of the rooftop, as far away from the villain as they could possibly get. 

“Stop,” the hero hissed, teeth clenched. “Stop lighting things on fire to get my attention, just stop–”

“I’m in love with you,” the villain said, voice wrecked, and the hero reacted like the villain had shot them. They stepped away, feet bumping against the edge like the fall was a better option than the villain.

“No,” the hero said. They shook as they said it. “Stop it. You don’t get to do this to me.”

“I love you,” the villain said again, and the hero pressed a hand over their own heart.

“Stay away from me,” the hero managed after a moment. Another deep breath, and their hand dropped back down to their side. “Go do whatever it is you need to do, go ruin anyone else’s life, and stay out of the wreckage of mine.”

“We have a life together,” the villain tried. If the hero could just see, could see that they could fix it– “I’m sorry. I was stupid, I was so, so stupid. But you can’t just leave, please, just let me fix it–”

“I told you to get out,” the hero said, and there was nothing soft in their eyes as they looked at the villain. “What about the way I said it made you think it was temporary?”

“Hero, please, let me fix–”

“Villain,” the hero said calmly, voice sharp. “Some things aren’t meant to be rebuilt.”

All of the air left the villain’s lungs in a pathetic sort of wheeze.

“You’re my everything,” the villain choked out. “My whole world, and I’m so sorry. I was–I made a mistake, but you can’t just throw us away–”

“No,” the hero spat, and the villain flinched. “You burned that world to the ground. You’re standing in the ashes of it. You don’t get to come to me begging for it back.”

The villain felt unmoored. Like the world had shifted one step to the left and they had no idea what to do with their limbs anymore, no idea how to keep existing.

“But I love you.”

“The only person who feels anything when you say that is you.”

This time, it was the villain who stepped back.

“Please,” the villain whispered, and the hero closed their eyes.

“What were you expecting to happen. That I would forgive you? Would fall back into your arms? You could tell me that you’re sorry in every language for the rest of your life and that wouldn’t make what you did hurt me any less. So why would you think you could light a building on fire, tell me you love me, and then make everything go back to the way it was?”

“I–I don’t–”

“There is no back,” the hero said firmly. “There is no undo.”

“I don’t know what to do,” the villain said. A tear dripped off the edge of their chin.

The hero appraised them.

“Learn to live with it.”

The villain sucked in a shuddering breath.

“I can’t live without you, okay, I can’t–”

“Then die.”

The villain froze. They waited for the hero to take it back, but the hero just stared at them, face stony and cold. An avenging angel on the edge of the rooftop, firelight flickering at their back and smoke rising into the air, not an ounce of sympathy left in their bones for the villain.

And before the villain could say anything, say that the hero couldn’t possibly mean that, the hero spoke again.

“I mean it. You are not my problem.”

The villain was choking. They were drowning on air and the hole they had left inside of themself when they ripped the hero out of their life and the hero was just watching them–

“Please,” they said pathetically, and even as they said it they knew it was futile.

The hero didn’t bother to give them another response.

They watched the hero leave without saying anything, smoke beginning to sting their eyes and nose as their hands shook. 

It felt terminal. It felt world-ending. It felt deserved.

They wished the hero had just killed them.

[a-candle-maker]

not tagging the person bcs i don't want to call anyone out but like,,,, saw this one girl and her post formatting made it even look like a chatgpt generated thing... checked her other stuff to see and they all had that one formatting... thought i'd tell her and like. babe. you turning off asks just about confirms it for me, i mean imma just guess that you noticed lots of asks telling you the same and decided we're sooooooooo mean!! and ignored it

[p1ctur3]

Can't believe it has been a full year since I starting posting AvA/M fanart

so I redrew my first piece of fanart :]

[rgbfall]

ok so, i really like The Day The World Broke by @saladmix, and I am so in love with the description of how the bell monsters sound, it gave me such a vivid sound in my brain, so I wanted to try and recreate it!

This first one is what they sound like from a distance (it's just wind chimes and wind sfx)

headphone listeners beware for this next one, but it's how I imagine them when much closer. it's not exactly the effect I wanted (i wanted louder and clearer bells), but i did scour youtube for a WHILE and sat through some incredibly crunchy change bell ringing, so this will have to do.

[miss-couch-potato]

Found footage of the Blackpool Pleasure Beach Hardluck Bears show!!!

Here's all the footage of the hlbs

And here's the full video. Insane how that video is 8 years old and no one had found it.

[morelikesin]

"I have you back now. I think that's all that should matter, right?"

"I think so."

And there was a pause.

“But I know you. You're carrying something, after all this. How could you not?”

“You're alive. I'm fine.”

“If that were true, then why do you look so sad?”

And he knew neither were.

-

Because I replayed Silent Hill 2 and the thought occurred to me that Sam deserves wayyy more psychological trauma a la manifested guilt.

[lazaruspiss]

my sibling is starting to write fic and it's so. like they've been drawing for forever and never seem insecure about art. but writing is still new to them! so the fic isn't working how they want it to. i got to point at their pile of like, 20 something filled full size sketchbooks and go, look, you've made all this art, practiced all this time to be good. and how many things have you written? 3? you keep going! you keep doing it and it will be countless one day!

[starflungwaddledee]

hello!! its me!! in your inbox again!! Ive gotta know: what kind of thought went into Starstucks design? do you have any beta designs, early sketches, or has she always been so cute?!

HELLOOoooooo yesssss quality asks from moonie!!!! i am always so excited!!! i'll pop this under a cut because it got long, but the short answer is: sadly i'm boring and predictable 😂

i am SO embarrassed to tell you that very little thought went into her design, at least on any sort of... cerebral level. the reason for this is because she is my sona, though she does now have a story of her own, and i personally have an extremely rigid set of personal iconography! both irl and online

i joked with my gf and some friends who know me beyond kirby that if you knew me outside of here you would spot me a mile off because my aesthetics for sonas or personal representation have been rock-solid consistent for almost a decade!

i'm always pink and cream and ice blue, always have star themes, always have grey-blue/pink eyes, always have freckles (often white constellations) over big pink cockatiel cheeks, and always have huge bows 😂 also often i have flower crowns but she avoided this by being All Head. i did accessorise her festive outfit though!

so really... she couldn't have looked much different to how she does. i did add the stars on the bottom of her feet (hidden stars are a typical design choice for me tho) and the heart shaped face marking after drawing her a few times on the blog! i just thought the heart shaped marking added a little interest at the time, especially above the eyes; maybe because i was used to drawing bandee who's bandana covers that top edge of his face marking!

now that some time has passed, of course parts of her design tie into her lore in fun ways ("oh she has stars on her feet!" "what makes the constellations on her cheeks move!" "wow her bow looks a bit like wi-!!"), but that was entirely unexpected when i designed her. i never intended to develop her as much as she has been because the interest from others was frankly so unexpected; but i'm having a total blast doing it!

i also chose a waddle dee rather than any of the other aliens on offer because i personally tend to just... feel pretty average! not impressive or significant enough to be a knight or a puffball or anything like that! waddle dees resonate with me, they're just easily spooked little critters with zero defensive mechanisms doing their best and i can relate to that

though i suppose that it's now rather clear that starstruck is not an average waddle dee, if one at all.. so i guess time will tell

sorry if this is a bit of a let down 😅 the unfortunate answer is that she's based on Me and how i look/feel/dress/etc irl. my hair is that shade of pink. i have an exceptionally comprehensive collection of flower crowns and comedically oversized bows. i am very small and very round. i do have intensive freckles in constellation patterns. sadly, alas, my eyes are only grey-blue. so there was only ever so many variations she'd be able to draw on from my rigid set of aesthetics haha!

[buttercup-barf]

Under the cut are mostly self-insert doodles of decreasing quality. Again, not much directly tied to Team Fortress 2. Might as well toss these out while I have no access to my puter. Much yapping under the cut and in the tags incoming.

Another self-insert, this time less of a "here's me as a tenth class" and more of a "here's my game experiences translated into the class I would take the place of". The Cleaner. Although I guess they could still be wearing either suit. It doesn't matter that much.

That one Convict's Case taunt with Backup would be extremely funny, because the man would be on the verge of a breakdown (he does not want to go to jail so bad you have no idea). The second image- I owe no explanation. You know what I am. You see the pattern with my favourites.

The duality of the man. Resting face versus "just heard you express interest in religion/Russian folklore" face. He's not that hard to make friends with, when you pull him away from all the explosions.

Some doodles of trying to figure his face out. Unfortunately, the more I stare at him, the more I worry that he looks like A Certain Guy With The Last Name "Kazarin", and the fear of never being original in my life caught up to me.

Don't look at me, don't perceive me, I refuse to explain any of my actions to you.

[goldentigerfestival]

I love the vocal nuance in this exchange, but also posting this for my differences posts because this is one of the changes that infuriates me the most. Yuri didn't threaten Ioder, did not threaten him with a weapon, and just said he'd punch him in a lazy, half joking voice (half joking as in, he really doesn't want to hear that - that's just his way of saying so; but that's not the voice of someone who is super angry and threatening).

My other huge grievance is that this is a recurring issue between them in the dub. Yuri is pretty much always vocally rude to Ioder. Ioder has done nothing to wrong him or anyone and has only ever done good for the people where he's able to.

Yet despite Ioder being nothing but sincere, honest and polite with Yuri, in fact even happy to see him here and there, dub Yuri is outright tonally rude to him leading right up this scene where he threatens Ioder in this dark voice. Meanwhile he's actually just supposed to be… lazily telling Ioder he'll punch him in his Yuri Lowell way of saying "I don't want to hear that".

The dub really just wanted to turn Yuri into this dark edgelord and I hate that for my goofy, silly boy.

[papyrus-onlyblogokay]

i love your blog, thank you for reblogging papyrus for me to look at!!!!!!!!!

💚💚💚!!! Of course! I love papyrus and i love sharing papyrus! I think out of every blog i have ever made, this one is the most worth it for people like you💚! Cheers to the coolest skeleton!