#the journey is just so well written

[icedgarlic]

the irony of Donna Tartt writing a whole novel critquing the dangers of academic elitism while also having little POC characters or just shit ass stereotypes

[crowsgrudge]

fionna's world being represented by a dandelion makes so much sense ... they're weeds. yet people make wishes through them, changing their whole meaning from something meant to be destroyed to something hopeful.

dandelions are also resilient and it makes sense that something associated with them would. you know. perservere despite the destruction caused by the scarab.

but ultimately i think what REALLY made me tear up over this is that dandelions are really boring plants. when you're a kid you blow on them and make your wish but they're not eyecatching or anything but still, fionna's final wish was for her old world to still exist as it was when she left it (> plain and simple. boring even).

like the moment she realized she would lose her friends, and that her friends might forget each other if the world got its magic back, she immediately decided she didn't want it and I think that ties back to the dandelion metaphor so well... like, do you really need magic to be real to find it everywhere? or can you turn something boring into something magical?

[thebestusernamepossible]

Literally going insane, might have to write fanfic for the first time in 2 years because the people™️ do not get my favorite female characters like I do and I feel the insurmountable urge to write her. I’m going to bite drywall why don’t ppl see her complexities. PLEASE STOP WRITING HER ETHIER AS DOMICILE MOM OR BITCH (or just for shipping) she is so so cool please guys please.

Also while I’m here, fandoms tendency to shove women in the ‘pure powerful goddess who can do no wrong’ box and then proceed to never give them an actual narrative role other than like ‘supportive’ or ‘took out a few background guys’. Like why DOES this incredibly badass and complex female character just get shunted into doinging some cool flips, getting praised about it (she’s the strongest fighter, so feminist wow) then never getting actnowleged as a 2 dimensional character.

I saw this a lot when I was in the Batman fandom, particularly with Cassandra Cain. She is a highly complex and interesting character, but in fandom she’s kind of shunted to ‘Badass therapy dog who takes care of the men’. Because even on the slight chance her backstory is brought up it’s always never delved into and mostly used to make her etheir more tragic and in need of support on a surface level or to let her be compassionate with the men characters who get their actual problems foucused on. It’s a unqiue kind of frustrating because it’s like almost letting the cool female character be cool, but it’s more like the idea of a badass women is shoved in your face, maybe joked about (or if we’re lucky she gets to beat up a few bad-guys), but ultimately treated like a cardboard cutout. Interestingly this actually isn’t entirely a female character thing, it’s also common with like old grandfather/grandmother characters and the elderly in general. But it’s usually badass women from what I see. :/ Why can’t fandom explore their stories (people do but why is it so much less), why can’t they be the prtags of cool AUs or time-travel fix-its, or crossover events

Idk I think I’m just frustrated, and I typed out more than I thought I would. Also Ive seen what happens to some other posts complaining about fandom misogyny, so please know if you’re a TERF, fuck off you have no place in this discussion. We will never agree, and frankly all of these points apply to canon Trans Women characters. Don’t say shit ill fucking end you.

[hcdragonwrites]

A Nightmare (a @journey-to-the-au drabble)

Another one! I split this one into two- so that way the people who enjoy fluff and are sensitive to the triggers can pick one or the others. Warning: this is about the Six Eared Macaque and what happens in the Betrothal AU

Trigger warning: Gore, Violence, Cannibalism and Descriptions of the Like. Allusions of SA (nothing happens but if this is a trigger don’t read!)

Did Heaven know of nightmares?

Earth Reaching Willow couldn’t answer that. In all her endless days within the Polestar Palace, among the Orchards of Immortal Peaches, and across the wide clouded bridges and celestial marvels, she had never known anything but tranquility and Peace.

Willow felt the other Monkeys of the troop swirling about her. Mothers bared fangs in fierce smiles while fathers and brothers teetered on grabbing weapons or jumping into the fray. However the being before them, the being that had been living among them, wore a familiar face, spoke in a voice that was warm in tenor.

It was a trusted person, a king of kindness, that had sat before them with grisly gore smeared over his teeth.

This wasn’t Wukong.

The Monkey King slouched, relaxed on the floor of Water- Curtain Cave. The gray stone beneath was dark with the scattered remnants of …

Willow couldn’t. She couldn’t - who had it been? Who had they been ? Willow had spent decades among the troop of Flower Fruit Mountain, years watching her new family grow and flourish. She had welcomed new members, helping mothers tend and care in turn for the babies and teach. She had brought flower petals to scatter upon the bodies of old and fallen friends and family, returning their vessels to the earth and praying for their next reincarnation. Death was not impossible for the Monkeys of the mountain even if age was not a factor now.

Her stomach curled at the scattered red and pink and purple flecks against the gray stone.

Willow had tended and cared for her family. Liu, Rin Rin, Ma, Ba, Beng, Mama Courage, Mama Wisdom, Chestnut- and so many more. She had cared for them because they loved her and she loved them.

Willow cared for them in all the years Wukong had been away. She, wife and friend to king of Flower Fruit Mountain, understood the importance of her position.

This creature that had once been alive was now twitching as it’s body bled out.

Another rending, echoed in the cave. The teeth of this Wukong hooked into the rib cage of the fallen little monkey beneath his foot. The red flesh pulled free of the white bone with a shlap sound. This mimicry of Wukong slurped the flesh and smacked his lips as if in ecstasy.

“Exquisite taste as always.” The voice was so familiar in its sound. Wrong wrong, Willows mind warned, her stomach becoming stone. This isn’t him!

The corpse of the monkey lay near the entrance of the cavern, splayed out in the pose of a running animal having been taken down by a lion. Upon that corpse, casual foot set against its shoulders, was the monarch of the mountain.

Mama Courage was bristled, fangs flashing and eyes full of fury. For all the rage behind him, the creature that wore the skin of their friend, was unperturbed. Instead he dug his claws into the skin and pulled. The sound set her teeth on edge and her stomach to flipping. Something pink and soft was between his claws- and then down his gullet.

The mothers and the distant warriors around the cave watched in horror. Most of the troop was outside, enjoying the everlasting summer of the mountain. Willow wished she had been just a bit faster, just a bit sooner and she could have been among them.

Instead she was stuck inside a living nightmare.

The Wukong turned his head, eyes alighting on one little of the troop adolescents who came too close. Faster than any of them could react, the Wukong had seized the youngster by his tail and dragged him over. The mothers started forward but froze at the pained screams of the little monkey.

“Curious one are you not?” The Wukong grinned, all threat within that smile. He sat the youngster beside him, petting his fur and pulling it close. “Come! Take a bite! This foolish subject shouldn’t have brushed me in his haste to get by. Now he will serve me in the only remaining way he can~”

“Eat! Eat!” With his free paw he gestured to the slaughtered monkey at his feet. The individual had had his throat cut, the blood pooling beneath his dun fur. The great wound on his side had been inflicted while they had been alive, it had happened right before Willows eyes.

Willow didn’t remember what the conversation had been about before. She had been walking out of one of the stone huts, signing to Wisdom beside her. It was the season for apple picking and they were both in a deep conversation about what foods to make with the apples they harvested.

‘Pies?’ Wisdom had puzzled.

‘And jams’ Willow signed back. ‘Tarts and sauces.’

‘You want to make these?’ Wisdom signed as they turned past a curve in the cave.

‘I want to teach others how to cook them’ Willow explained. She had been baking for years now, testing and trying new creations. With so many different types of fruit orchards and with an ever abundance of rotating bloomings and ripenings, Willow couldn’t resist. Apple pies, peach cobblers, plum puddings, candied pears, and strawberry tarts. So many things Willow could make- so many treats she could spoil her family with.

When Earth Reaching Willow had started making her first treats, the smell had begun to attract some of the denizens of the mountain. Little round faces poked through the kitchen windows, eyes wide and noses inhaling. Willow had passed each little one a bit of whatever she had been making- breads full of almonds, ripe watermelons dipped into sugar, orange juice freshly pressed for the porridge she would make- and they had scurried away, excited.

It had only taken three days for the rest of the mountain to be waiting outside her door, eyes eager and arms full of the fruits they wanted made into treats.

‘Teaching will be difficult.’ Courage signed.

‘How so? I like to teach and I think most will have the patience to learn.” Willow countered gently. Then she suddenly had a thought and amended, ‘Maybe not Ba though. I think he will be the one that will possibly try to sabotage me for a prank or steal whatever I make’

Courage laughed her silent laugh. Her eyes twinkled with mirth. ‘If he switches your fruits I will make sure he gets a thorough fruit thrashing. But no- I have no concern of your ability. Only about how much space we may have in the kitchen.’

It was Willows turn to laugh.

The morning had been going so well.

And then.

The two rounded the last curve of the tunnel, coming up to the roaring waterfall that blocked the main entrance to Water Curtain Cave. It’s soft, silver light soothing to see. It was like the mountains voice, forever roaring by them all. Courage paused, grabbing at Willows sleeve.

Willow looked up.

At the great wide flat stone before the waterfall, stood Wukong. A chill crept up Willows spine.

The Wukongs eyes alighted on the two and he smiled broadly, waving.

“Mother! Willow!” He called in friendly tones. “My beautiful wife is just the person I wanted to see !”

Willow felt that chill touch her veins.

He skipped closer eyes dancing brightly. But something was off. There was a shine to his eyes that looked feverish.

Wukong grasped the limp hand of Willows and kissed it. The press of that mouth over her skin felt hungrier, the eyes of his looking upward into her own with … with an expression of love meant for …

For the bedroom.

Willow took her hand from his palm, plastering a small smile onto her face. A wolf was before her. Wearing sheep’s clothing. Willow knew a wolf when she saw one however.

Wukong and her may be husband and wife but he never hinted or tried at more romantic inclinations when they were away from the cloudy courts of Heaven.

As she pulled the hands from his there was another flash, some sort of color burning in his eyes. What was that?

“Hello Wukong.”

“My Love~” His voice was syrupy sweet. “I have missed your company these few nights. Will you indulge me? I have the perfect place picked out! There’s a pond just south of here- and when the moon is out and the water is still, it turns silver and it’s beautiful.”

“It reminds me of your beauty.”

“I would love to,” Willow felt the repulsion rise. She had to fight the urge to pull back. Courtly edicate. She had dissuaded similar trysts and attempts from far more skilled men than this Wukong. But none of them looked like her best friend. “However I’ve promised to bake an apple pie and show your Mother how to make one.”

Courage nodded, signing ‘We must be off, son. The light will soon be behind the mountain and it will be too dark to see.’

Courage grasped her hand, tugging her away.

Wukongs face fell. Another flash in those eyes.

What happened next was all too quick, all too brutal.

Wukong- the wolf in Wukongs skin- moved to catch her hand-

And Willow had retreated, barely escaping his grasping hand.

One moment, Wukong had been trying to grab her attention. Courage had caught her hand, tugging her. Willow had bowed and given her excuses, her apologies. She retreated in relief. And she saw the eyes, finally, change to an ice blue.

The next moment, as one of the many monkeys walked by -was his name Radish or Cloud?- Wukongs eyes flashed.

Wrong-they are blue with red chips within them. Why are they blue ?

It was like the striking of lightning. One minute Wukong had stood, gaze open and full of such a light as to give a dragon nightmares, and the next the world was turned end over end. The monkey had at one moment been brushing past the king and the next he had been pinned to the stone floor. The savage strike had split the side of the little monkey's flank, opening up fur and skin and flesh. Exposing the inner workings of the poor creature in a spray of red so dark as to be black. The Wukong with those painfully bright blue eyes had cleaved the bone of the rib cage as easily as a knife slicing through butter.

The monkey gasped, eyes blinking in confusion. The pain hadn’t registered yet. Only shock. Wukong tugged a bit of pink intestine out of the still writhing monkey and ripped it to shreds.

Blood.

Screaming.

Willow felt her stomach heave.

“I have your attention now ?” Wukong had said.

Not Wukong.

This creature, whoever and whatever it was, was not Sun Wukong.

It couldn’t be.

This Wukong shook the adolescent monkey it had hostage again, yanking at the corpse before him. The noise of the screams had brought the few monkeys still in the caves running, some dragging weapons. Upon seeing however, that the threat was no tiger or jackal or leopard but their own king tearing away at one of his own, had driven all the fight from them. It had left only horror.

The poor monkey face was contorted in a frozen scream. Its eyes were staring sightless. Vacant and grayed over. Gone.

“Come have a taste. I only share the best of meals with the ones I love.” The wrong Wukong spoke, tugging the poor creature forward. He held the flesh closer, eyes blazing blue. The tiny monkey squirmed in his grasp, eyes wild.

“Stop!”

The Wukong froze. The world froze as Willow called out. Her heart raced. Only her heart and the roar of the waterfall dared to make a sound.

She saw the tiny monkey squirming and clawing at the hand that was still about its scruff, whimpering. His eyes, that unusual shade of blue, slanted her way. They burned coldly, wildly, full of one such emotion that Willow couldn’t mistake.

Hunger.

“Oh?”

The Wukong set the monkey back down. He didn’t let go of the poor thing. His eyes were only for her, his attention peaked. Earth Reaching Willow, Eldest princess of the Jade Emperor, threw herself into that woman she had been before her monkey, before Wukong had come into Heaven and offered her the world. She was an actress.

As still as a pond with no ripples. He may be full of a burning ice but I must be colder- I must be that calm within the eye of a hurricane.

Willow pressed her forehead to the floor, bowing. She felt the hands of Courage tugging at her. She kept her head flat to the floor.

I must play this game. Protect my family-

Even from the one who I looks like my friend. For my friend. Wherever he is—

“Has my Wife finally decided to give me attention?” Willow heard the heavy and terrible sound of bone snapping and muscles rending. She didn’t look up. “It has been so long, my love. You’ve left your king….” A harsh crunch of bones, of noise that is the sound of teeth digging into something soft. Snapping it like a twig. “….hungry.”

“Please, let the little one go.” Willow pleaded. She felt the brush of Mamma Courage along her side, Wisdom along the other.

“Lift your head.”

Dread.

She did as she was told, composing her face to serenity. The serenity cannot withstand the horror before her. It cracked.

This Wukongs face is smiling cynically, eyes glacier blue and glowing. In his free hand, the dismembered paw of the poor deceased monkey, cut clean from mid forearm down. The bone had been cracked, the marrow dripping.

“What will you do my Willow?” He asked, shaking the still struggling babe. One of the mother monkeys barked in rage, taking a half step forward. Another stopped her. Willow felt like a mouse caught between a wolf's paws.

“Your husband is very upset at you for ignoring his … advances.”

Nothing. I won’t do anything. I will turn into the smallest speck of sand and let the wind blow me away.

Willow let her fear spin just for a moment. Then she grasped it in her mind and pressed it behind that cold veneer of courtly teachings. She had acted much of her life. She had acted to fool her father, her advisors, the very suitors that saw her as a chess piece to improve their standing within the Polestar Palace Court.

And I will act now- I will hold my horror to best give everyone a chance— a chance to get away. To prevent more deaths.

“I have neglected you husband.” The words smoothly emptied themselves from Willows lips, even as she wanted to snatch them back. Be brave. “It was not my intent to do so. I have been busy helping our family. Forgive me.”

I don't want forgiveness from you. You aren’t my Wukong. He wouldn’t demand attention from me. He wouldn’t ask me for this.

“I’ll forgive you. I’ll be pacified by you.” The imposter sounds almost relieved, as if her words had soothed a burn upon his skin. He shakes the poor baby again, eliciting a squeak and an angry chorus from the other mothers here. Willow is still surprised it is just them in Water Curtain Cave.

A miniature horror show just for them.

“I will even let this little one go, since I am such a benevolent king. No one should say that I, Sun Wukong, didn’t listen to my beloved wife.” He smiled again, staring straight into her soul. “But I want a Kiss.”

���A kiss?”

The Wukong nodded, eyes flickering. A ripple of black and then gone again. “One single kiss. To reaffirm our union. Maybe more … later.”

The ‘later’ sent chills down her spine. But Willow nodded.

“Good! An obedient wife makes a happy life!” He laughed with Wukongs voice, but none of the joy of her Wukong was reflected there. It was twisted, spun into something bent and hideous. A mimicry of joy. A sound to match the horror.

Tears streamed down her face, the only break in the smooth surface of her cool demeanor. Willow leaned forward, about to stand.

“Oh but I am not prepared.” He said. She froze. Something malicious crawled over his face. The imitation Wukong- I refuse to believe this is Wukong- took up the bloody wrist and pressed the still bloody end across his face. Willow felt her horror rise, the gorge in her throat threaten to upheave. He smeared the bloody stump across his teeth, over his lips, across his chin. Like a monsterous paintbrush, this Wukong painted his lips in the blood.

Finally the Wukong drops his captive, the little monkey scurrying up to the group seated before their King. It’s mother scooped them up, pressing them to the soft underside and trying to hide his face from the nightmare. Willow couldn’t look away. Her courtly armor, the thing she had pulled up to cover herself in, shattered into a million pieces as those blue burning eyes fluttered and locked onto her lips.

“What’s the matter darling?” The Wukong holds the arm in one hand, the free one pressed to his face, almost as if he were resting it there. The thing before her must read Willow's repulsion. His smile turns softly, a predator's smile curving away from those gore filled teeth. “Don’t you want to Kiss me?”

[mayasdeluca]

“You need to tell the three year old that she can rest now. That she’s allowed to rest. You need to tell her that you love her and that you’ve got her no matter what. That she doesn’t live with Daddy anymore and that she’s safe. That she’s lovable, win or lose.”

[thefeastandthefast]

"For the second time that day, Yang Ying moves closer to the target of her persuasion, gentling with a purposeful touch."

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

genuine question but is there any fandom where a character is well written by the majority. im thinking about fandom culture and the spread of frustration when people dont write characters well but. honestly in all the fandoms ive been in there's only like, a Select number of authors who i trust to write Well, let alone write Well AND In Character. character analysis and writing and getting inside characters' heads are all separate skills (all of which are trained by roleplaying fyi can CONFIRM playing pretend with your friends is good for you). there's been more than once where I've disagreed with an interpretation that others agreed with, and then I turned out wrong. or i turned out right. like it doesnt matter WHO is right it just matters that differences in character analysis exist, so even if you DO write well AND write in character, your in character is still going to be someone else's out of character

there's this sort of. vibe. that to play in the sandbox you Need to be able to make a castle, and if you can't make a castle then you shouldn't bother, and it completely dismisses the idea that youre in that sandbox to PLAY in the first place. there's this Weight of disappointing someone if you can't build something that they like, but that forgets that you aren't there to build them a castle. like, be KIND. if you disagree with someone then please make an effort to do so kindly. i dont give a shit about fandom discourse but there is a reason kids get removed from sandboxes if they keep throwing sand in people's eyes. but if they don't like your misshapen sand pile, then youre not obligated to change it. even if you yourself end up hating that same sand pile later- youre not building a legacy. youre playing. and sometimes the result of that play is out of character drivel. theres a reason there are so many authors and so few who i like to consistently read and thats because everyone is Fucking Around in their hobby space. hash tag brag or whatever but i can build castles. ive built several that im v proud of. ive also dug holes in the sand for fun and then tripped on them when trying to get up. I often dug a hole and then got up and fucking- whoops, its a castle now, and i didn't realize i'd made something to be proud of until after the fact. the whole time while creating shit i was Convinced it was bullshit that didn't make sense. and then other times i was Convinced it was bullshit and then i was Right and i can look back and go. huh. ew. but it doesn't matter what the end result was, because i had fun playing in the sandbox

this wasn't meant to turn into a ramble but i have Feelings about bad art and art that's badly perceived and how public perception can screw with your head and how making art youre proud of is fucking. it's so difficult!!! it's hard!! it's really fun, which is why i try to make it, but i promise you it is Okay to not tryhard creativity. even if you CAN, it's okay not to do it all the time. or ever, even. fuck around find out have fun etc

[kuromi-hoemie]

hhhh talking about my writing was fun but 30 tags is not enough.. yes i have 3 major influences but i have minor ones too.. it is a lovechild of my favorite things.. writing is so fun and i have no self control or a concept of pacing myself i will sit there for 16 hours and get hit with every status effect but by god does it all just flow out of me. I've always been a music person yes but i also used to write a lot into early adulthood until The Incident™

but i am ready 2 jump back into it. i think comics are a great middle ground between the two mediums so i don't get As into writing bc i kind of started going crazy last time 🫡 i can take a more structured approach to it that forces me to pace myself and think about it differently. i love art.... i love making things i love knowing how to do things i love knowing how to play things i love having so many creative outlets, even if i don't do a lot of them regularly lol. it is enriching 😳 and nice to know that it's always there to come back to when u want.

[coconut530]

🔔

[llycaons]

not wangxian though. it's one of the 10% which are actually good

[spiriteddreams]

went into frieren: beyond journey’s end think it would be a nice little show to watch and relax to

came out of frieren: beyond journey’s end crying a lot and truly loving the way this story is crafted and these wonderful characters

[wizzardhat]

Im rereading nona and i am baffled anew by people who listen to jod recount every single agonizing step in his slow and terrible descent and are like, "wow John was always an awful irredeemable liar and his reluctance to admit that he set off the nukes was not, in fact, him struggling to accept the magnitude of how completely and terribly he failed and became the very person he was trying to stop, but was just another calculated lie because he's a Bad Man. if it were me i would have simply not done that." I have to assume these are the same people who read "**When our backs are against the wall and everything is falling apart we rarely become heroes" and were like "huh i wonder who thats for"

**approximate quote from memory because I cannot for the life of me find the exact excerpt but it was one of Wake's "letters" that only Harrow could read while they were in the bubble

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Adventures in writing my English SAC, also known as 550 words of Theon being an angsty bitch,,

[daily-keyboardsmasher]

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[rinnysega]

Speaking of writing, my alpha readers have been giving great feedback on my manuscript ❤️ I have to say tho, hearing that Gus is a stand out character and is so far a favorite among some readers who don’t know his fanfic origins makes my heart warm and fuzzy 🥰

[probablygayattorneys]

You know what, though, I actually am going to toot my own horn here for a second, because this was a lot of work. 47 hours worth of gameplay, to be precise.

But also… I have a learning disability. I have dyscaulclia, which is a lot like dyslexia, but for numbers. Math has never come easy to me, and it causes me a lot of problems. I often have to redo even simple sums to make sure the answer is right. I use a calculator for things that other people could do mentally. A lot of times when something has a lot of numbers involved, I just cannot wrap my mind around it. I have to work really hard to compensate for this, and a lot of times I just feel stupid and like I’m the worst kind of autistic, because I can’t even count.

And there is an entire category of puzzles that are math puzzles.

I’m not going to lie and pretend I became some kind of savant. I didn’t. They were hard. And I did not do it alone. I used hint coins. I asked my friends and family. Sometimes, I straight up guessed. But I never gave up. I solved every single puzzle it threw at me and then went out of my way to find even more.

I do not think that the fact that I had help diminishes my achievement at all, which is something that I’ve learned growing up. Being a true gentleman doesn’t mean that you have all the answers, but it does mean that you have the courage to know when you need help and to ask for and accept it. And it means acknowledging those who have aided you on your journey.

So thank you to my mother, who solved a sliding puzzle I was stuck on and helped me perfect all the Ideal Meal courses. Thank you to my best friend, who I would send pictures of puzzles that I was stuck on and who would help me visualize them. Thank you to my dad, who is every bit as good at math as I am bad. Thank you to my brother, who has always been better at looking at things in a different way than any of the rest of us. Thank you to my sister, who grasps difficult concepts faster than anyone else I know. Thank you to everyone who provided a fresh set of eyes when I was stuck and who helped me understand when I just wasn’t getting it.

I share this victory, but the fact that I beat this game by managing it, by recognizing my own shortcomings and of raising the strong suits of those I love, is something that I will take pride in. I deserve credit for that and I will give it to myself if no one else will.