#things to consider for the rewrite

[scarapanna]

I liked your art, you won🎉🎉🎉

WE WON NO REDEMPTION WAHOOOOO/silly

I'm still terrified of the redemption route for this clown though hdhghfg, I want his silly self to stay evil and wimsy and goofy and with redemption uhhh

We're like

I dunno I'm sooo scared devsis is gonna take away that aspect which is what makes him just so funnn. Please pretty please let him be god awful and rotten and rude and goofy if you take that route Devisis I want him to keep his funny wimsy qualities. Please please pleaseeee write him well y'all are doing sooo good with him don't fumble by taking the redemption route (And if they do it better be good and he better stay chaotic and goofy and sassy and condescending and all his "rotten rabid thing" qualities)

If they do him (And his fun aspects justice in this dreaded hypotetical) then I may be cool with it. Though the mean ass possum has grown on me so much I'd 100% miss that evil and unhinged part of him TONS, devsis have mercy pretty please/silly

[Longer more insane ramblings are in the tags hsfhfhhv]

[ladyrijus]

me: what if we subverted the imperialism trope with zelda realizing that rauru is the aggressor in the equation because 100 years is not enough time to wash away her diplomatic skills and she just knows that the gerudo people would not be hostile if not for a justifiable reason. sure, it takes a while for her to gain ganondorf's trust just based on her association with rauru and sonia, but he does end up trusting her somewhere down the line and fills her in on what's happening. she's absolutely horrified. as a result, she works alongside ganondorf to seal away rauru by gathering the sages and convincing them to protect their respective domains from conquest. but here's the twist: what if link still gets mentored by rauru's spirit at the beginning, and thinks rauru is a benevolent king? imagine zelda's last words to him in the final memory, nothing but a frenzied "link, do not trust the king of darkness!" but he doesn't know which king: ganondorf or rauru, because the gloom has corrupted ganondorf's body and rauru, who had unsettled him since the beginning. but then he realizes it's rauru, and it's deliciously ironic since rauru's power is light but as always, every light has a shadow.

totk enjoyers: hold my beer i'm gonna fucking crucify a korok

[shuobox]

degrees of lewtidy but instead of getting your freak on its called degrees of radiation and you’re busy trying to survive against some evil ass monstrosity of flesh and toxic waste because Bailey thinks you’re a lazy bum who hasn’t brought back supplies in some time (robin is a few yards away trying to shove as many scraps and resources into a duffel bag as he can)

[narratwoda]

Invisi-Bill misses his boyfriend.

(Original under cut)

[korolation]

on todays episode of “things no one wanted other than me” we have transmasc amber

[ganondoodle]

.... back on my totk rewrite thoughts so, poll time (pls read before voting o3o )

no matter how cute tulins design is, i like teba more and he had at least a little bit more to fall back on from botw than tulin did, given how little time is spent on these characters (and the time that is is just ... so flat, its all so tasteless, no flavor) hes just as much, or little really, as the champions descendants were in botw .. if even, though this game should have been the time to go hard on narrative, sicne the world was established now would have been the time to dig into the story more

im considering making teba the 'sage' (no sages in my rewrite but for understandings sake) and possibly with a .. 'backpack' tulin, they are a team and work as one (doing proper character arcs is hard to do in a game world like botw, given how isolated each area is and how little everyone interacts, id focus more on having some active troubles and dangers- team getting seperated etc. to make it feel like theres actual stakes instead of a flat one scene character 'arc' and then some baby puzzles that i hesitate to even call that)

(i still havent found a workaround for the abilities yet, botws way of doing it was very well integrated and made sense with the story, i dont want to repeat that but also dont want to have the shitty totk way, - killing a character off in the present to have them aid you in spirit is interesting only if not applied to everyone bc then it gets all too samey again, something something items in a way--- regardless of how im gonna solve that issue, i like the idea of them working together just like you are actively traveling with zelda as your companion and it will work whether i give them actual abilities or not)

[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.

[petrichorium]

pluvi begging you to expand on gojo not wanting what happened to his mother to happen to you 🙏

warnings: it’s all a dream so nothing is real aside from the flashback stuff but pregnancy as horror, (sewing) needles, implied gore/eye trauma, implied child harm, gojo is messed up yo!!! and its bc of his mama!!!

he dreams about her.

it’s an odd thing, really. gojo isn’t much of a dreamer—not much of a sleeper, all things considered, but it’s difficult not to give in when you drag him to bed and curl up in his arms. the soft rise and fall of your chest, the steady thump of your heart, the sound of your breath; it soothes him into slumber.

and he dreams about her. she was always young. he’s older now than she ever got to be. frail, thin; borderline skeletal, robes hanging from her body like webbing. she sits in a chair facing a window, swathed in moonlight, the silver of her embroidery needle glinting with each stab. her face is veiled. her stomach is swollen with child.

she doesn’t turn to him, but she beckons without noise. his feet take him easily to her, and he kneels at her side as she sets aside the embroidery hoop to let him place his head on her knees.

her hand is cold as it threads through his hair. it’s gentle, at first. then harsher a moment later. she grips firm, tugs him up by those electric white threads, stares down at him through all that elaborate lace.

he imagines she’s weeping beneath it. his mother never wept before him, but she was pretty in the aftermath, eyes puffy and pink and shining. they were a cold kind of loving when they regarded him. she must have been beautiful once, elegant and lithe and willowy, cruel like the heartless sea and sharp like a brilliant diamond, but whatever was there is long gone. he thinks all sons must empty their mothers, bleed them dry from within, because his was always a shell.

she trails her hand down the side of his face, and he turns into the palm and closes his eyes, and she is silent as she sets down her embroidery to lift her veil. she is silent and hollow and eidolic as her fingers brush down his jaw and tilt his head up to look at her.

but it’s your face that he sees when he opens his eyes.

it’s your hand against his cheek, your eyes pink and puffy and pretty, your stomach bulging by his own doing. it’s your fingers that pluck up the needle, still attached to a thread of brilliant cerulean, and raise it to his eye.

his mother never was able to pierce him with that needle. she stopped herself, each and every time, dropping it and tugging him close in shame. she never doted, never was kind, but she never did manage to harm him.

you do. he lets you. it’s only fair. whatever thing is in your stomach can’t be human—whether god or demon what does it matter, at the end of the day—and didn’t he put it in you himself? if his mother never got the satisfaction of spilling his blood, shouldn’t you?

but he wakes just as the tip pierces his iris, and you hold him in your lap, eyes wide with concern and not puffy from weeping, and you hold no child within you. your hands thread through his hair and they’re warm, your lips plush when you bend to press a kiss to his brow.

he turns inward to press his face into your (empty, blissfully vacant) abdomen. the wetness he leaves there, falling from his so very coveted eyes, is colorless.

he thinks it ought to be brilliant crimson.

[driedlillies]

Fix it au where hashirama looking at his younger brother certified mad scientist no 1 and installs some fucking ethics class for jutsu creation and something so orochimaru atm uncertified mad scientist no 2 almost fails it and finally gives up on his fucked up experiments because he really wants a real fucking lab and not only the secret station in the woods he set up

[cacw]

super splashfrost times

[nicoathogwarts]

No one alerted Nico of the incident until McGonagall walked into arithmancy looking more tired then usual. "Mr. di Angelo you are required in the hospital wing at once."

Everyone watched him grab his stuff and leave before they started speculating on what was wrong.

Nico listened as McGonagall briefed him on what happened. "This morning while preparing for his first class of the day professor Hagrid found a girl under a heavy tree branch bleeding from the head. When she woke and was told she was here, she asked for you."

"Did she say her name?"

"Thalia Grace. Kindly escort her back to where she came from, before the rest of the student population finds out about this and I get a hundred howlers about the lack of security."

"Sure professor."

Nico stalked into the hospital wing. "Why are you here? How are you here? You're supposed to be in like, Maine or something."

Thalia smiled "nice to see you too. I have a head injury you know, you could be nice to me."

"You could be in Maine like you're supposed to be."

"I am supposed to be here! The centaurs asked us for help with the overabundance of monster. And seeing you're here, I see why they asked."

Nico considered hexing Thalia, Madame Pomfrey was right there. "Come on, I"ll walk you down to the edge of the forest and you can go back to your cult."

Thalia jumped out of bed, grabbing her bow and quiver from where they'd been set against the wall. "Not a cult."

"It literally is. How'd you get hurt?"

Thalia fell into step besides Nico. "I called stepmother dearest a bitch because I tripped on a root. She did not appreciate it."

"Why would you do that."

Thalia waved off Nico's concern. "I didn't break anything this time. Besides, pretty soon there'll be a few dozen babies she can take her anger out on, I'll be old news."

"I pity your siblings."

"So do-" Thalia paused at the staircases. "Why are the fucking stairs moving di Angelo?"

"Oh, yeah, they do that. Come on, it's not dangerous, just looks dangerous." Nico said, grabbing Thalia's arm to drag her down the steps as she grew impossibly pale.

Everything was alright, slowly but surely they made their way down the steps. Until Thalia stepped on a fake step and fell with a scream, taking Nico down with her.

"What the fuck was that?!" Thalia asked when they were both safe on the real steps.

"False steps. Now come on, McGonagall wanted me to get out of here quietly. So let's go, we can take the stairs, I can levitate you down or we can take the short cut."

Thalia laughed, on the edge of hysteria "am I blonde? Do I have a scar from trying to eat a stapler? No? Then don't you dare think about floating me down. No shadow travel. Just tell me where the fake steps are and if I survive, I won't punch you in the face."

"Deal."

They managed to get down the staircase eventually and Nico lead Thalia to the edge of the forest. "Now fuck off and don't come back, you'll ruin my cover. If you haven't already."

She smiled and pulled him into a tight hug. "Don't die."

"You're the one hunting monsters every day. I hang around mortals all day. I'm more a danger to them then they are to me, magic or not. Now get out of here before someone sees you." He pushed her towards the forest.

[catman-draws]

Chapter 6- Page 15

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[wonder-worker]

"[Elizabeth Woodville] was the only member of [Crown Prince Edward of Westminster's] original 1471 council not already on the king’s council and her name headed the list of those appointed as administrators in Wales during Edward’s minority. [She remained on the council after it was expanded in 1473 and granted additional governing and judicial powers]."

"In 1478 Prince Richard married the Mowbray heiress. Like his elder brother he had a chancellor, seal, household and council to manage his estates. His council, like that of Prince Edward, comprised the queen [Elizabeth Woodville] and a group of magnates and bishops, few of whom were Woodville supporters. [...] It was Elizabeth who mattered, for Richard resided with her and Rivers treated his affairs as their own."

— J.L. Laynesmith, The Last Medieval Queens: English Queenship 1445-1503 / Michael Hicks, Richard III and his Rivals: Magnates and their Motives in the Wars of the Roses

[defiledtomb]

Looks like I'm gonna be able to get a PC here by the end of the month/mid november if everything goes to plan = I will be able to finish ouro (at least the new demo, at first)

BLESS.

[stellarspecter]

okay i don't know if the hyperfixation will hold long enough for me to actually write this but au where everything is the same but the waylon house is just a bit more structurally sound. max doesn't die and is like 'thanks for this guys, is that the whole party or?' and everyone just sort of looks at each other like. well we don't want to anger him so what can we say but yes. and so the nerds and max end up hanging out for a night in the waylon house and the worst thing that happens is grace chastity is tempted to have a beer for the first time (she doesn't though. but with max offering it's very hard for her to refuse. or focus lol) max keeps giving them weird backhanded compliments like 'wow you guys are way cooler than you look, how'd that happen' which is not the best but it's way better than being beat up for daring to be in his line of sight, so they'll take it.

so they all hang out for the night, max is like weirdly chill and friendly, eventually he leaves and they're left standing outside the waylon house like. ?? what the fuck??? did we just befriend max jagerman???? the nerds are still apprehensive considering pete still has a black eye, grace is still boiling with religious zeal and repressed lust, and steph still doesn't really like him, but they can't help but remember how he said that trying to prank him was the nicest thing someone's ever done for him. and that just can't be true, considering he's literally the star quarterback and the main character of hatchetfield high, but.... the fact that he felt like it enough says a lot, doesn't it?

so they decide to leave the prank footage to gather dust and figure this was probably the best outcome they could have hoped for. who knows what they'll walk into at school tomorrow? maybe max will become a friend.

[quietwingsinthesky]

AROMANTIC THIRTEEN TIME AGAIN. the face she sees first upon regenerating, the face seared across her hearts, is her own, and only her own. and she is delighted by it.