#the good the bad & the rewrite

[aroaceleovaldez]

Mark Oshiro confuses me a little bit not going to lie. In the press tour for the first book all they ever talked about was how Nico is their son and Will is fine I guess. Then they said like 2 weeks before TSATS came out that they didn't understand Will's character at all and it's one of the main reasons why Will has so little POV.

Possibly unpopular opinion but I don't think it's a good, encouraging sign when the writer admits to not really caring about the deuteragonist or not even having a sense of how to write them...

Yeah, no. If you have no interest in 1/2 of the POV characters of your book, you REALLY shouldn't be writing it (or at least, not have that be a main character). Especially when the main way TSATS could have been improved is if it was primarily Will-centric instead of Nico-centric. Will basically had next to no established character prior to TSATS! He was practically a blank slate! But all the new stuff we got for Will in TSATS was so clearly disinterested and had no regard for his previously established traits (or the established timeline/canon). Which is annoying because fleshing out Will would have been the PERFECT opportunity to actually incorporate a lot of the topics that Mark Oshiro specializes in as a sensitivity reader, which was the ENTIRE REASON THEY WERE BROUGHT ON AS A CO-AUTHOR!!!!

As TSATS stands, there is no reason for Mark Oshiro specifically to have been the co-author instead of someone else. It's so clearly just a PR move from RR following the huge backlash Rick received due to his response to criticism on how he wrote Piper and Samirah (and Reyna and etc etc). This was immediately following Rick saying he wasn't going to write what would become TSATS because "it [wasn't his] place to." Most of the topics that Mark Oshiro specializes in either weren't relevant at all to TSATS or written very poorly (to downright offensively) in TSATS, so either Mark Oshiro wasn't doing their job or was not able to do their job for some reason, but either way it basically makes the theoretical justification for Mark Oshiro being the co-author/sensitivity reader irrelevant.

With Will, it was HUGE fanon back in the day for him to be trans. Trans!Will and photokinesis!Will were basically the two biggest headcanons for him (both largely popularized by Cherryandsisters). We know Rick is aware of this old fanon because he canonized photokinesis!Will. If we had gotten trans!Will, that would have been great! And then made sense why we specifically got a trans co-author! (Instead, if anything, TSATS canonized Will being cis.) If we had gotten Will being latino, that would have been amazing!!!! And also then made sense as to why they chose Mark Oshiro for the job as a latinx author/sensitivity-reader, versus potentially choosing an Italian co-author since Nico being Italian/Venetian was emphasized so much in the book (and done poorly! Yknow what they could have done to fix that? GOTTEN A SENSITIVITY READER FOR IT)! Based on the themes and focuses actually present in the book, it would have been most logical to get a queer, neurodivergent, Italian co-author or sensitivity reader who specializes in those three topics at least. But we didn't! So why was Mark Oshiro chosen instead when they only specialize in one of those topics? PR reasons. It's blatantly entirely PR reasons and no actual thought or care was put into this book (or, likely, TSATS 2 either).

It doesn't help that we're also actively being told that the published version of TSATS was a rough draft. Or that their editor blatantly isn't doing her job. Or that "The Sun And The Star" was the working title that they just kept cause they didn't bother to make an actual title. And that the final version is full of explicitly last-minute scenes that weren't checked over at all (the final Bianca scene, for one). Or the ACTIVELY ADMITTING TO SOURCING IDEAS AND INFORMATION FROM FANS! That last one is kind of important because at this level of publishing that is a HUGE no-no for legal reasons. You can get into a lot of trouble for that and there is a reason why it is Ye Olde Fandom Law to never try to pitch your ideas or headcanons to the source creator(s) and keep fandom separate from the creators. There is a REASON why Rick Riordan is so distant from the community these days and it's for PROTECTION AGAINST LEGAL REPERCUSSION. Mark Oshiro being the exact opposite while also ACTIVELY ACKNOWLEDGING sourcing concepts from fans does not bode well! It has to do with copyright stuff.

It's just. So. Sighhhhhhhh >->o <- me lying on the floor about all of this. It's sad being able to see the glimmer of what could have been at the very least a decent book underneath all this. If anyone involved in the process had actually cared just the tiniest amount.

[mosaickiwi]

Fall Unto Me (part two)

Got too silly. Have some more Angel!Angel and Demon!Ren cause the bot came back and wormed into my brain to post it. Part one here if you haven't read it yet hehe.

cw// religious themes

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

The quiet cabin where Ren lived was a stone’s throw from the flowering field you found them in. The devil graciously opened his home, even guiding you around the town you now knew was called Corland Bay. Each morning when you wondered about leaving, he brought something new to pique your interest and put off your departure. The time seemed to fly by and soon you hardly spared a thought to leave.

You'd quickly grown accustomed to his constant presence over the past month. He was never far from your shoulder at any waking moment. The uneasy feeling from when you met was completely gone, replaced with a strange sense of comfort. He had only shown kindness to you, after all. To call a devil your friend was laughable, you knew. But no other word quite fit.

Still, you wondered how he had come to live outside their realm. Every time you questioned him the conversation slipped away to another topic. It must've been odd to discuss with an angel, you naturally assumed.

So you stopped bringing it up after a few days, instead choosing to inquire about the changes in the plants you so often admired. Some had begun to wither, and new buds sprouted up seemingly overnight in their place. A strange new array of flowers that Ren promised would tower over your head and his in due time.

“I think I'll like these flowers more than the others,” you told him one late afternoon. 

You were lying on the porch, your head resting against his thigh as you watched the endless rows of flora sway in the breeze. Their focus was on you, though you didn’t notice. You could feel the faint trace of constellations drawn along the bare skin of your legs. The human clothes he’d gotten for you were a little different from the robes and tunics donned by servants of heaven, but they were just as comfortable despite the lacking fabric.

“I couldn't begin to imagine why,” he mused, his tone teasing as if he already knew your answer.

You explained regardless. “You told me some will grow as tall as they can, even following the sun’s light. It’s rather interesting.”

“I’m already as tall as they'll be.” His tail flicked into your field of view, casting only a slight shadow until his face obscured your vision further. "Is a devil not as interesting as a flower to you?"

The rapidly changing sky above caught your attention before you could respond in kind. Clouds blotted out the sun, tinting the world below in a murky gray. All the signs were there. Heavy clouds, a drop in temperature, and a strange smell in the air—petrichor, it was called in the books Ren had read with you by candle light on quiet evenings. It was a change you'd been waiting for ever since learning about it.

Bursting with excitement, you rolled from their lap and darted from the safety of the covered porch, the answer you meant to give them already long forgotten. Ren followed on your heels in the dirt until you stopped.

“It's rain, isn't it?” you wondered aloud and turned back to them for confirmation.

“Humans normally stay inside when it happens, my angel. But yes. Rain.” He nodded with a smile, enamored by the way your eyes curiously sparkled before you looked away. His pale hands came up to shield your face when the first drops began to fall. 

Tiny thumps of something suddenly bounced off your hair and shoulders, seeping into your clothes. His makeshift shield seemed to be doing its job as you looked all around with wide eyes. Minuscule puddles of water and earth formed around your feet. The sea of flowers still swayed before you, though a few weaker ones fell out of sync as the rain pushed them to and fro as it pleased. You could even hear something akin to chimes when drops pattered over the roof of their home.

You spared a glance up towards the sky, quickly changing your mind with an unwelcome gasp at the spray that tickled your face. Quiet laughter came from behind and you turned to look at your companion once more, shaking off their hands.

Ren appeared unbothered by the dozens of small droplets beading down his forehead to his chin, until you reached forward to wipe them from his face. The heat of his skin stood out to you, and you let your hand linger, rubbing your thumb back and forth over the drops that kept landing on his cheek. 

A dull ache began in your back. 

You took an innocent step towards him. The light shower of rain was slowly chilling you to the bone, so it only made sense that you sought out their warmth. A warmth that felt as familiar and welcoming as your heaven. Gentle hands wound their way around your waist, guiding you back to the shelter of the porch only a few feet away. With the curtain of his fingers gone you expected another torrent to stream down your face for a brief moment. Instead, all you felt were stray drops falling from his hair.

Relief washed over you almost immediately in their embrace. Every so often you’d feel homesick like this. That sharp, almost stinging lance of pain where your wings were hidden away—yet it always faded as soon as he comforted you. You couldn’t understand why their presence brought such solace to you. 

“I’m ready to go inside,” you suddenly said.

Your gaze wandered up to Ren's unreadable blue eyes as he answered, “Are you?”

“Yes… I think so.” But you made no move to leave, instead letting your eyes follow the slow crawl of a droplet down from his cheek to the corner of his lips. Their pale pink color reminded you of the sunset that left you empty only days ago.

It was a dreaded feeling you couldn't bear to feel again.

Without even thinking about it you leaned up to kiss them for the very first time. A faint stutter of surprise to his breath, and then he kissed you back. Part of you expected it to burn, to sting, do something when you mistakenly sought out affections you knew were meant only for a bonded pair—especially from a devil of all creations. Yet there was nothing to punish you for now.

The fluttery haze to your body didn’t wane at all, only blossoming at their touch. Until a gentle nip of fangs at your bottom lip had an entirely new feeling thrumming to life in your heart. You pulled back just to breathe for a minute, running your tongue over the spot that stung in a way you belatedly realized you liked for some reason. 

Guilt and confusion battled in your heart at the thought. “Heaven will need me home soon,” you whispered, avoiding their watchful gaze for a long while as you toyed with the still damp strands of his hair.

The devil waited in silence, running one hand in an unknown pattern on your back until you managed to look upwards. “...Do you truly wish to return, my love? Won't you at least stay until the flowers bloom?” The words were desperate, but his voice resigned. As if your answer was already set in stone.

You carefully nodded at his words. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if you were even capable of leaving. It scared you more than your god's surefire chastising about the sin you'd just committed. But it has to be then, you wanted to convince yourself. Or you feared you’d break your vows and never leave him.

He accepted with a heart wrenching smile, took your hand and led you up the few steps that were slick with rain. Your fingers tightened achingly around theirs as he opened the cabin’s door.

Beneath the steady drumming of rain, you didn’t notice a bell had been faintly tolling from somewhere far above you.

[natsmagi]

honestly the more i hear about engstars and its TLs the more i absolutely dread the inevitable release of poltergeist and what may ensue from it, bc if if the translators themselves are already invalidating arashis identity then i Really Truly do not want to see how theyll translate natsume and tsumugis microaggressions/transphobia towards her. esp since ive noticed a rise in people being comfortably transphobic towards her, and i REALLY do not wish to see natsume and tsumugi being stupid fucking morons be used as evidence to discredit her

and i think this is all the more reason why its VERY IMPORTANT for engstars to DIRECTLY ACKNOWLEDGE arashi and her gender. bc sometimes characters are STUPID and RUDE and APATHETIC. enstars is a story with NUANCED and FLAWED CHARACTERS, and when a character is being a fucking asshole youre meant to PROVE THEM WRONG. but they dont even acknowledge arashi as a girl themselves. so, if you do use engstars, please keep pressuring them bc omfg this is so bad and i can only see it getting worse

[adultemophase]

me w people saying Vi is gonna get amnesia in S2 to tie the show in with her league lore

[suosgirl]

Hello! I just gotta tell you how much I loved your "Shishtoren's princess" ☺️💖 it had me giggling and kicking my feet, I swear 🤭

I hope you don't mind me requesting a much needed suo (plus any other chatacter if u want) x reader who's always tired (totally not self endulgent 🤡).

Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to 😊

- 🐮 anon

Sleep is for the Weak (is it though?)

Word Count: 544

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x f!reader

୨ৎ Warnings: fluff (sickening fluff, like tooth-rotting fluff)

୨ৎ Note: The way that I felt so seen with this request HAHA and thank you so much for the sweetest words!! I work 2 jobs and literally I always feel like there’s never enough time in the day nor enough time to sleep so I am perpetually tired all the time. I run on iced coffee and a dream (and nicotine) haha…ha. But I really loved writing this ahhhh it was incredibly self-indulgent on my end as well!!! Thank you for the fun request my 🐮 lovebug anon!!! ♡

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

♡ Suo’s an observant guy – within just hanging out with eachother a handful of times, he already noticed the little yawns that you cover your hand with or the sudden bursts of blinking that you do when you find yourself nodding off.

♡ The first time he notices it, he thinks that maybe you’ve just had a restless night … but then he sees you a couple days later and he’s seeing it again.

♡ Now he’s noticing it every time you guys are together (and even when you’re not).

♡ Sometimes you’ll be texting and it’ll go silent on your end for at least 30 minutes to an hour or two – and then he’ll get a little ping from his phone and it’s you apologizing and saying that you just woke up from a nap.

♡ He won’t admit that he thinks it’s cute and turns it on you instead.

♡ “I guess I’m not interesting enough to keep you awake :(“

♡ And then the teasing transcends from text to in-person.

♡ He sees you try to hide your little yawn by turning your face into your shoulder and he’s going in.

♡ “Oh? Is it nap time?”

♡ “Was that a yawn, my sleepy girl?”

♡ His favorite thing about teasing you while you’re tired is that you simply don’t have enough energy to banter back with him – all you can do is pout and slowly blink at him (you’re angry in lowercase).

♡ He hates that he’s weak for it.

♡ “Don’t be silly, lay on my shoulder.”

♡ For as much as he teases you though, he’s just as thoughtful.

♡ If you both are out with everyone, he’s already set a curfew in mind for when you both should leave so that you can rest.

♡ “Are you ready to leave, sleepyhead?”

♡ Absolutely loves tucking you in – it’s so domestic and sickeningly sweet but sometimes you’ll mutter a soft “thank you” and it has his heart beating just a tad faster.

♡ Bonus points: pull on his sleeve when he’s about to leave and he’s smitten.

♡ “Ah, well if you insist, love.”

♡ “Come on – scoot over, sleepy girl.” 

♡ If you enjoy drinking coffee, he likes that too.

♡ There’s just something about looking down and seeing his cup of tea next to your coffee – like coffee is just so you and tea is just so him. 

♡ When you lay your head in his lap, he melts at the sight. Sometimes he’ll just appreciate your beauty while you doze off. 

♡ He listens to your soft breathing and runs his hands through your hair. If he’s in the mood, will let his eyes close alongside yours.

♡ Anytime you have plans together, always asks if you’re up for it. If you’re just too tired – that’s okay! 

♡ He would never want you to push your body or force yourself to do something that you don’t have the energy for – simply just pats your head and asks what you’d like to do instead.

♡ Despite what you would think, doesn’t get mad at all that you fall into fits of sleep when you’re around him – because he gets to make sure that you’re resting.

[bibibbon]

something that i can’t stand when it comes to this fandom is that basically no one can wrap their head around the fact that a victim can also be an abuser.

yes, rei was physically and emotionally abused by endeavor. yes, she was literally sold to him.

but she also just completely checked out and left fuyumi to pick up the slack.

yes, it’s not her fault that the abuse caused her to shut down, but as a result of that she neglected her children.

after she left fuyumi had to raise her brothers and become the woman of the house.

again, at the end of the day the root cause of the abuse is endeavor, but rei had checked out even before dabi's death.

it’s not victim blaming to point out the fact that rei neglected her kids. victim blaming would be saying that the abuse she suffered was her fault.

sometimes this fandom can be so fucking braindead. it’s always black and white, good or bad, hero or villain.

there is not a soul on this earth who is 100% a pure and good person.

all might, knowing full well what one for all contained and the massive responsibility that came with it. including an old wrinkly guy who will stop at nothing to take it, to a child and then proceed to not tell the aforementioned child what he was getting himself into. he with held crucial information because he knew that if he told izuku everything there was a chance he wouldn’t take it.

on the flip side, no one is 100% evil.

dabi cares deeply for the league, even though he doesn’t show it. shigaraki is literally the only person he will take orders from. some people may think he showed everyone hawks killing twice just for more ammo against the hero's. but thats not true at all. he cared about twice, and he wanted the world to know who he was. he wanted the hero’s to know that twice was human.

again i’m fucking rambling but i just hate how this fandom can be allergic to nuance and critical thinking.

I do think that many people do want a simple answer because at the end of the day it's easy to root for the good guys and boo the bad guys. There's also the fact that the narrative itself does sometimes struggle in creating a proper grey space morally.

Take for example the abuse victims in MHA. A lot of them are straight up innocent perfect heroes victims like izuku (who can never feel resentment in the narrative) and shoto while the others are straight up villains like Dabi and shigaraki. There's no in between with these characters and it's annoying. I remember talking with @mikeellee she has her saying of Shigaraki being the dark deku which honestly after that chapter where izuku comes into contact with a evil version of himself makes more sense.

I do agree with you in the sense that no one is 100% good or evil and in a way almost everyone is a victim to hero society. All might did willingly give a quirk that has a big responsibility to a naive quirkless child and all might is a bad mentor. However, at the same time all might is also a victim to a society he contributed to creating which is honestly so ironic and I wish horikoshi would explore these aspects of all mights character yet he doesn't and just gave us iron might (I dont like iron might tbh).

Also I love the fact that you brought up Rei himura and honestly Iam a big advocate for giving rei a redemption arc since it would of been more interesting and it would actually make sense to give her one than giving enji todoroki one. Rei was a victim and yes motherhood is difficult especially with the fact that she was abused and stripped of autonomy or agency but she also wasn't the best mother and that's something she does recognise in the narrative. My main problem however, is that the narrative doesn't allow her to fully engage with the family and she doesn't do much about it. Yes she apologises to both shoto and touya but what about her other children?!?! What about fuyumi who had to take on the role of a mother and shoulder a huge family burden? What about natsou who was also neglected?!?!. I say by giving rei himura a redemption arc the series can do so much that being actually involving the entire todoroki family into this, having more introduction to the hospital arc that may connect both touya and Rei and you can also have Rei make a connection with genten as @nyc3 suggested.

However, this also applies to the flip side. Characters like twice, shigaraki and Dabi aren't completely evil. Yes they have done bad things, yes they are bad people but they are also victims of the hero system and hero society. I do think that the leauge is a bit underdeveloped and I did definitely want more development between Dabi and shigaraki's while frenemies fiasco going on.

In the end I do think that almost every fandom may be allergic to nuance in one way or another. I do actually mean this because I remember seeing people try and say that Eren Yeager is completely good while some tried saying that he is completely evil but in reality he is complex and layered. You really can't put a definitive label on the aot characters because they all did their fair share of good and bad things and that's what makes them well written and enjoyable.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Gosh, do I love discovery writing. The freedom. The sense of play. The way you have to hold the material lightly and follow where it leads, never being afraid to scrap things that don't work or to rewrite to emphasize things that do. You have the fun of discovering the story you're writing rather than the frustration of being unable to capture the ideas in your head. This way might wind up taking ages, but it makes the writing process such a joy.

[rewrite-canon]

“[insert character] should have been evil!” let people be good and nice goddamn it.

[silverskye13]

In which there is talk of the tournament.

[bonefall]

I'm thinking of writing a Grey Wing redemption/pissed off fic where Grey is the one who kills Clear Sky/Skystar (a la Scourge) after he threatens Thunder/Thunderstar and another of Grey's adopted kits.

But idk how Grey gets that pissed. Thoughts?

Idk anon I'm gonna be honest, that feels really unlike Gray Wing. I'd say to use Thunder for a plot like that, tbh, the character that canonically makes several loud and angry rejections of Clear Sky's violence.

I don't like Gray Wing but he's very well characterized, y'know? Even at his absolutely most pissed moment in-canon he can only taunt Clear Sky into killing him with his Star Line. He's verbal, not physical.

He's able to land a little hit on people here and there, but he usually requires an entire group to do damage (Tom the Wifebeater and One Eye). Overall he's really bad at fighting. Good hunter, bad fighter. Even before his asthma he was kinda pathetic; killed Fox with a lucky hit, tried to attack Clear Sky over Jagged Peak and got curbstomped

And like, on that "verbal" thing, he's incredibly nasty and catty when he's upset. Barking at Turtle Tail for having the wrong friend, smugly watching Bumble get dragged off, shouting at Thunder several times over various things, the... whatever the hell the Erins thought they were doing with Jagged Peak (i still maintain that gray was actually totally right to scream at him that One Time, fuck u jagged peak).

I feel pretty strongly that his anger is primarily vocal. He's more likely to start yelling than hitting. If it does come down to an actual death match, he's more likely to get turned into tomato paste lmaoooo

So if he ever DID kill Clear Sky, I'd suggest it be an accident or as a result of one of his plans. In addition to his lack of physical capacity, honestly? I think Gray Wing would buckle if he had to make that choice.

He'd have his claw on his throat and be unable to pull down. Might be able to start screaming, "YOU TOOK MY BROTHER FROM ME!" or make a really harsh speech, maybe even cast Vicious Mockery. But I don't think he could ever ACTUALLY do a Yellowfang, let alone a Scourge. Not even if he saw Clear personally kill someone he loves.

If he ever actually did get Clear Sky killed, he'd also, honestly, probably change immensely for the negative. OR AT LEAST needing a long time to recover and accept he had no choice. I can't imagine him being able to live with the "guilt" very well, it would weigh on him. The "gentleness" would melt away as he becomes overall quite miserable and snappish, like he usually is when he's not happy.

(Could be very interesting to give someone else the kill after Gray can't bring himself to do it. Like Thunder jumped in to save his life, but it causes their relationship to fall apart completely.)

Overall I'd treat the premise as more of a "tragedy" than a "catharsis." Not based in anger, but immense pain and frustration.

[shorthaltsjester]

people talking about how it’s because they didn’t know if they’d get a s4 that they pulled punches in the s3 finale of tlovm…. you get that that’s still shitty right. you get that that’s them openly stating they chose a weaker narrative beat in the story they’d like to create in case it ends up being a story that’s cut short. like. it Is incredibly rough out there for shows on streaming rn don’t get me wrong i know that but. i don’t know that the answer is “let’s write something narratively weaker but more satisfying if we get cancelled”

[dailykugisaki]

Day 308 | id in alt

Miwa not getting the happy closure she wanted and opening a whole new can of worms in the form of Kugisaki Nobara Lmao.

[m1d-45]

i gobbled and devoured the post imposter things. scrumptious!! but what if poor little xiao man feels guilty for hunting or scarring us in the hunt? and please don’t feel obligated to answer, i know you’re busy

burden to bear

word count: 2.7k

-> warnings: spoilers for liyue archon quest, canon typical violence…. minor body horror? blood mention.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay

< masterlist >

during the hunt itself, xiao is driven by a need to prove himself, pushing past his instinct and the way his karma flares around the one on the throne. he sees it as a way to redeem himself, to finally scrape some of the sin off his hands. it’s a way to prove himself, and one he takes eagerly.

it’s not correct to say he’s blinded by faith, but it’s not exactly wrong either. he definitely feels, subconsciously, that something’s… off, maybe, about his god. perhaps it’s the way his vision always seems to flutter and flare, or the ice in his veins when the command to hunt is given. he feels uneasy, unsettled, finding himself rolling his shoulders and wondering if he needed to add more stretches into his routines. and yet, despite the tension in his shoulders and the twist in his stomach, he kneels, bowing his head with a swear of fealty that goes unanswered.

unacknowledged.

perhaps he had delivered it wrong?

he doesn’t think much of it, quickly dissolving from the throne room and appearing besides the statue of the seven on the west edge of liyue. looking out over jueyun karst, he knows it’s a bit fruitless to start his search there due to the vicinity to the other adepti, but the spires there are tall, filled with wiry bushes and crags of rock that are easier to hide in than may seem at first glance.

he draws his pole arm, spinning it once over his hand before tapping the end to the stone beneath him. he’s not sure why he’s so nervous—is it the fact that this is technically the first order he’s been given? is it the idea of slaughtering somebody so identical to his creator that it nearly fooled morax, who’s been alive longer than he could fathom?

or is it simply the prospect of failure?

xiao grits his teeth and steps off the edge of the floating stone, halting his fall with anemo at nearly the last possible moment.

his feelings meant nothing. orders were given, and he had to follow them.

why else was he there, if he couldn’t?

it takes him longer than he expected to find you. he’s almost impressed, really, that you managed to evade his searching eyes, that you dodged not only him but the other adepti as well, all without taking refuge in any villages or otherwise civilized areas due to the orders the millelith put out. you hid well, he could attest to that, and though he was the one to find you, it was only on accident.

he was clearing out a group of hilichurls north of the inn. he was surprised so many had settled so close to the statue of the seven, as hilichurls usually avoided concentrated elemental energy, but didn’t think too hard about it. he simply unhooked his mask from his belt, noticing the difference in strength between these hilichurls and the average, and teleported into the middle of the camp.

the first thing he heard was a spotter’s cry. the second was the mitachurls’—archons, there were three—roar as they hefted their weapons. the final one was the intricate chanting of the abyss, but not any incantation he recognized.

he kept himself half in smoke as he danced around the edge of the camp, taking out the archers while he tried to find the abyss mage. he could catch glimpses of hydro bubbles through the walls of the hut, but the steps were covered in frost-

he barely ducked under the swing of a mitachurl’s axe, slashing his spear along its side as he slipped away, darting across the path of one charging with a large stone shield. it clipped his shoulder despite his efforts, pain spiking down his arm, but he didn’t pay attention to the injurh. normally he wouldn’t be this distracted, but two abyss mages and three mitachurls in one camp could only spell bad news. the best he could likely do was to leave and grab back-up, but who? the millelith were busy, morax and the adepti were on their own search…

xiao quickly climbed onto the roof of the hut, jamming his spear between two of the logs to keep grip on the woven roofing. the grass was damp, squishing uber this feet, likely from whatever hydro magic the mage was busy with within it. it likely wasn’t the smartest idea to stand on the roof, but this area of liyue was mostly plains, with little cover from the charging mitachurls. he needed a moment, if only a short one, to hash out a plan to deal with the camp.

the three mitachurls were standing besides the hut, two with shields and one with a crackling axe, electro dancing along the blade. xiao shifted, pivoting around the peak of the hut to move away from that one, the grass roof squishing below his feet.

the mitachurl’s ear twitched.

he shoved himself off the roof just as the mitachurl slammed the flat of its blade onto the roof, the whole shack shaking. electricity swarmed across the waterlogged roofing, reaching the opposite edge just as xiao dropped off it, landing between the other two mitachurls. they didn’t charge, nor attack, their motivations only made clear when the hiss of cryo froze out the lingering moisture in the air in front of him, effectively boxing him in.

the abyss mage swayed in its circle, staff glowing a sharp blue from within its bubble of frost.

“leave, adeptus,” it hissed, waving its staff in a circle. “you have no place here.”

xiao didn’t reply, instead picking apart his options. he couldn’t do significant damage to the shield mitachurls without utilizing his burst to destroy their shields, but that didn’t cover the mage at all… and he was still wet from the roof, so the mage would be able to freeze him within the time he had drawn in enough anemo energy to wield his mask with any level of efficiency…

he flexed his hand around his polearm. how had he gotten into this situation? his only options were to get lucky or teleport away, but even the latter of those relied on the first.

luck. how useless was he, to rely on luck-?

“‘adeptus’?”

the abyss mage startled at the voice, the cryo it had been swirling dissipating. both he and it turned to the side, to the entrance to the hut, where a figure could be seen just beyond the mitachurl.

his first instinct was that it was his god, and he briefly relaxed under the knowledge that he’d get out of this in mostly one piece.

his second was to recognize the torn clothing and dirt-smeared skin, and realize that you could never be his god.

xiao’s eyes narrowed, his spear twisting towards you faster than the distracted mage could react. you, his target, the one he had been seeking out, were hiding behind the abyss. he should have expected it, in truth, figured out the one known for going against the rules of nature would side with the most unnatural force, but that was not for now.

not now, when he was launched forward by the power of anemo, his spear driving him forward, barely skimming the mitachurl in favor of his true target: you.

your eyes barely had the chance to dart in his direction.

xiao was, in truth, not the first one to see you.

many villagers had glimpsed you running around the outskirts of their villages, plucking apples and sunsettias off trees and taking mint from their gardens and leaving bundles of sweet flowers behind instead. they’d seen you, face half-covered in a poor mask made of scraps, your clothes that of the haphazard stitches of the hilichurls, which helped you blend into teyvat a bit more at the price of comfort. many had seen you and assumed you were a run of the mill thief, perhaps one taking advantage of the current hunt since the millelith were occupied. they wryly called you clever, warning the traveling merchants about you, the one they glimpsed at inane hours of night.

he wasn’t the first to see you, by far. he was, however, the first to recognize you.

he was the first to lay eyes upon your form and realize the truth, to realize that the blood seeping into your clothes was the color of stars and galaxies, to recognize that your heart beat blue.

the argument could be made that the hilichurls were the first, or perhaps the mages that had taken you in and brought you food, but it was not them that gathered you into their arms and whisked you away in a flash of teal, uncaring of the spike of cryo that drove into their side at the last minute. the hilichurls did not walk with frosted-over limbs, the abyss did not cry with a throat full of ice, calling for assistance in undoing their own crime.

xiao couldn’t decide whether it was lucky or not that baizhu was in the pharmacy, speaking with herbalist gui over the front desk. on one hand, it was best to have the most experienced healer in liyue at your side, but on the other..

“adeptus xiao, what is-…..”

confusion, then anger, then realization, all flashing over his face in an instant before he tilted his head and walked quickly to a back room, xiao following.

he busied himself with picking the ice off his body and clothes, ignoring the shake of his hands and the stench of blood in the room. the mage had pulled you from the point of his spear, but he still hit the side of your stomach, and he could tell it was messy.

knocks sounded at the door but baizhu turned them away sharply, only allowing qiqi to pass him a bowl of lotus seeds. he was focused, changsheng slithering off his shoulders to grab supplies as needed. time seemed to slow to a crawl, like xiao had entered a domain without an exit, filled with the iron smell of blood and the never ending chips of ice he peeled from his skin. it left behind stinging wounds and red marks, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

what was his brief moment of injury compared to a scar upon his god?

the moment that baizhu had stopped, all but collapsing into a chair and wiping off his hands with a tired call of ‘it’s done. the foundation will be okay.’ xiao had stood and left, biting his tongue through the protests of both his own body and the doctor.

he’d given changsheng his confession, but he did not wish to stick around and hear his verdict.

weeks later, morax came and visited him at the inn, carrying with him a plate of almond tofu and an apology. xiao leaned against the furthest edge of the balcony, curled around the plate, staying as far as he could from the one with your aura imprinted upon him.

he felt it, when zhongli had first come up the stairs. the shock, then the warmth, the all-encompassing comfort that soothed the pain from the bruising on his shoulder. he felt it, and knew that he did not deserve it.

“it’s not your fault,” zhongli insisted, baritone words colored with unreturned sympathy. “the fake… had fooled us all. even me. i cannot hold your actions against you when i myself would have done the same.”

and maybe that was true. maybe he would have drawn his own weapon, pierced your skin himself, acting on the orders of one who dared to take the place of the divine, but that was irrelevant.

xiao was the one who had hurt you. and it was entirely his fault.

almond tofu, his favorite dish, tasted bitter and sour on his tongue, almost akin to the pain medication that zhongli had made him drink after noticing how cautious he was with his injured arm. he’d made him take the first dose in front of him and swear to take the rest, with a long monologue about taking care of himself tacked on afterwards, but it was for nothing. aside from the first night he had it, xiao hadn’t touched the bottle. it sat on his nightstand, beside a bed he hardly used, taunting him when he returned earlier than usual.

he could take it. there was nothing stopping him from doing so, and he probably should if he wanted to return to his duties quicker. but every time he picked up the glass, thumb tracing over the engravings as he undid the top, he hesitated.

he could take it. he probably should. but did he deserve to?

you were still recovering, possibly still bedridden weeks later. your blood still stained his spear, dripping down to his palms, pale and scarred skin marked further with the blue and purple swirls of his sin. you were still in pain, still healing from a spear to your side, and he was here, reaching for medicine for a sore shoulder?

(it was worse than that. bone had knocked against bone, bruising beneath where muscle could reach. it ached even when he sat as still as possible, dragging him out of every attempt to meditate. the dark purple splotches stretched beyond his clothing, reaching across his back and up his neck, making nearly any action flare the wound. it was far beyond an over-exerted muscle or a particularly tiring day, and yet even the worst nights of his pain were staved off by the memory of having to wash blue off his blade. even as the latch on the bottle was undone, the lip pressed to his, he could never bring himself to drink it)

(even the small droplet of it on the rim, tasting of qingxin extract and violet grass, threatened to make him sick. how dare he?)

yes, it would likely only get him into more trouble were he found out, but he was careful not to be. whenever the wind brought him the heavy presence of geo, zhongli’s familiar footsteps climbing the stairs, he snatched the bottle and emptied it into the stone carving on the balcony, letting the medicine soak into the soil beneath it. it splashed when he was sloppy, the deep purple medicine appearing blue on the stone, sparking a memory that weighed harder on the pit in his stomach.

even as he handed the bottle over to zhongli, his jaw clenched from the strain on his shoulder. the action was stiff, jerky, but evidently smooth enough that it had passed his assessment.

zhongli tucked the bottle away, surprisingly not drawing out a new one.

“i am proud of you, and of the progress you have made,” he said, golden eyes softening in the light of dusk. “well done, xiao.”

how strange, he thought, watching him leave, that the very action that made his vision swim with unshed tears was one that was praised.

he wouldn’t complain, of course. he never would. this pain was his to bear, just as the burden of your bloodshed was his to shoulder. he was well aware his pain could never take back yours—though he wished, desperately, that he could move your injury to him. he wanted to be able to take on the physical reminder of his defect, to take the hit of his own spear to spare you from his lapse in judgement. he would take it, take ten times the pain you endured, if only it meant that your skin was free of his scars.

it would be an honor to assist the divine, even at the price of his own life.

[aparticularbandit]

it is important to me that you understand that:

junko has no luck (and when she does, it's bad luck)

nagito has fantastic luck, but it always comes at a cost - for every moment of good luck, there is also a moment of bad luck; the higher the good luck he wants, the greater the sacrifice of bad luck he needs first (see case 5)

izuru has luck with no cost, which makes his luck better than nagito's; he's the inverse of junko, but his luck is downloaded, fake, contrived (like the rest of his talent is)

this must be combined with:

junko can calculate and anticipate anything provided she has access to the right dataset (the better she knows someone/something, the better she can manipulate them/it - this extends to talent as well; the more data she has on how someone's talent functions, the better she can imitate it, which is why she can't imitate ryota's animation as completely in the way that she wants (different talents have different rates in terms of how much she needs to analyze them, though))

nagito can deduce but he cannot mimic; he dabbles in manipulation, but he is much more of a servant to someone else's goals, which means his analysis is always in service to someone else (kyoko is similar but not quite the same; kyoko can get to the point of deducing fast enough to prevent things, which is a lot more similar to junko's analysis, just used in a different way; kyoko's more straight forward than junko is, which is why deduce and not analyze)

izuru's analysis functions the same as junko's does, except that he doesn't need to analyze someone else's talent to mimic it; he has had talent downloaded straight into him like neo in the matrix; if he wants more talents than the ones he already has, he's gonna need them downloaded again, probably

as a result:

junko's weakness is luck and incomplete data sets; an incomplete (or wrong) data set leads to a miscalculation, and when something relies on luck and cannot be precalculated or predicted, then junko falls. she relies hard on her analysis, which gives her a blind spot. (junko, however, is aware of this. that's why she has both nagito and izuru on deck; in the hope calculation that their luck, correctly used, will allow her to predict things that happen by chance as well)

nagito's weakness is his reliance on his luck. he believes in his luck. his luck will take care of him. he can't control how it works, and he can't control how the bad luck will happen or who it will happen to, but he doesn't need to analyze something for his luck to get him out of it (and the smaller the chance that something will happen, the more likely it will happen to him; his luck works on an inverse to everyone else's, basically, so what's the point of predicting things on what is most likely to happen when, for him, it will probably be the other way around)

izuru could cover his incomplete data sets with his luck, but tends to rely so completely on his luck to cover his ass that he stops analyzing and leaves himself open there - he should be the strongest of the two, but really tends to leave him with more weaknesses until he figures out how to use the two in conjunction; something junko has figured out but cannot do because her luck is not her own

[autisticredhood]

In The Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado page 5 / Batman #614 / Detective Comics #790 / In The Dream House / Detective Comics #790 / Batman #614 / In The Dream House / Batman #410 / Batman #428 / In The Dream house / Batman #617 / Detective Comics #790 / In The Dream House / Detective Comics #790 / Batman #618 / In The Dream House / Detective Comics #790 / Batman #614

ID under

[ID: Several photos weaving together text and comic panels. 

First image is of text that reads “The memoir is, at its core, an act of resurrection.”

Second image is a panel of Jason’s face on the ground in watercolor art style from Batman: Hush. He is wearing the Robin domino mask and his mouth is parted open. He is splattered with blood. A blue caption reads “Jason.”. The panel is overlaid in red. 

Third image is a cropped panel of Bruce and Cass in front of Jason’s grave. Bruce is saying “He would have been eighteen today.” 

Fourth image is of text that reads “Memoirists re-create the past, reconstruct dialogue.”

Fifth image is of Bruce and Cass surrounded by graves as Bruce is saying “But he was brash. Impulsive. Headstrong. Never looking before he leapt…I knew that, but I didn’t stop him because he wanted it so badly. He wanted too much to prove something.”

Sixth and seventh images are cropped panels from Batman: Hush with Batman in watercolor art style. The sixth image has blue captions that reads “No matter what differences we’ve had through the years, I’ve always known that Dick had a gift. Jason only had…rage.” In the seventh image the captions are “Jason never had the skills that Dick had. I should never have let him put on that costume.” 

The eighth image is text that reads “They summon meaning from events that have long been dormant.”

The ninth image is of two panels from Jason’s post-crisis Robin run in the 80s. The first panel is of Bruce’s face with the Batman cowl pulled down. He’s saying, “Hardly, the other Robin would’ve done the same thing…You two really are two of a kind.” The accompanying panel is an up close shot of Jason’s grinning face in the Robin suit. He’s saying, “Thank You, Mister Wayne. Mind if I stay up awhile and do some homework?”

The tenth image is of two panels from Death In The Family of Bruce cradling Jason’s dying mother, Sheila. In the first panel Shiela is saying with many ellipses between her words, “He turned out to be such a good kid all his problems and he still turned out good.” In the second panel she is saying, “He threw himself in front of me. He took the main brunt of the blast.”

The eleventh image is text that reads “They braid the clays of memory and essay and fact and perception together, smash them into a ball, roll them flat.”

The twelfth image is a panel from Batman: Hush that is cropped to only show a caption that reads “Jason saw being Robin as a game. It’s probably what got him killed.”

The thirteenth image are of two panels from Bruce and Cass at Jason’s grave. The first panel is a cropped shot of Bruce saying “Yes. Maybe if I’d put an end to his attempts, he’d be getting ready to go off to college…” The following panel is of Bruce and Cass standing as dark silhouettes against a red sky with the angel statue of Jason’s grave looming over them. Bruce is finishing his thought from the last panel and saying, “Or just having a normal life…”

The fourteenth image is text that reads “They manipulate time; resuscitate the dead.”

The fifteenth image is of two panels from two different comics. The first is from Batman: Hush in modern comics art style and not watercolor. It’s a cropped panel of Tim Drake in the Robin suit yelling, “No matter what he says, Jason’s death still haunts him. Why else would he keep Jason’s costume so prominently in the cave?” The second panel is a cropped image of Barbara Gordon on the BatComputer screen from the same issue of Bruce and Cass visiting Jason’s grave. She’s contacting Bruce before he goes to the graveyard, saying, “Maybe you’re busy...Look Batgirl just came by. She seemed…upset. I don’t know what happened, but…if this is about what today is, then…Just Know I’m here if you need…”  

The sixteenth image is of text that reads “They put themselves, and others, into necessary context.”

The seventeenth image is a panel of Bruce and Cass in the graveyard. Bruce is saying, “But he’ll never have that. Maybe it’s not too late for Stephanie.”

The eighteenth and final image is an edited panel from Batman: Hush in watercolor style again. It is a close up of the R symbol of the Robin suit with blood stains on it. The panel is overlaid in red again. The edit is a blue caption from the same issue that is added to above the R symbol. It reads Batman’s inner monologue of “For these reasons, I’ve carried the burden of responsibility for Jason’s death.”

End ID.]

[twinchromatid]

my voltron reboot doc has reached 37 pages. and im still not done moving everything i currently have onto it. what the fuck