#this has been in my drafts for SO long finally digging it out to post and it actually looks really good i think??

[le-poofe]

Finally~

I wanted to make a little something to say "Thank you for reading" to cap off WYS! Excuse me while I get mushy for a second-

Y’all are the reason this was able to get done. Your enthusiasm for updates and how the story unfolded really means so much to me. It was the little things that kept me motivated, even during the long hiatus. Seeing you guys pick up and point out little details sprinkled throughout the comic always made my day and gave me a sense of validation. Reactions to things like the surprise of Sans’ nightmare or Grillby’s comfort all made me super happy. And you guys gave the finale pages the sweetest reception I could ask for. l'm so grateful that you stuck around for the whole thing!

Overall, I’m very pleased with how this turned out! Interestingly, the main thing I’d want to change if given the chance is how I wrote Sans and Grillby themselves. Especially Sans’ dialogue. My characterization of them has changed quite a bit over the years (hard to tell bc I don’t draw them a lot atm). But that can’t really be helped. Just like the way that my art style changed over time. Hindsight does that stuff all the time. Nitpicking aside, I stand by the creative decisions made by 2019 Me

The funny part is that the original comic was 17 pages and I got them all done before hand so I wouldn't run into the issue of falling into a hiatus between pages!!! If y'all are interested in a bts post, I’ll try to dig up those og pages from my old computer. And maybe I'll show the even rougher epilogue draft I threw together for shits and giggles to see if I could get the page count to 69

Sansby has already been super special to me for a long time, finally getting this done and seeing the response strengthened that. I’ve had so many people find me through WYS over the years, it blows my mind. The messages from people who hold it dear really means the world! Without you guys this comic wouldn’t be what it is now. Thanks for Staying~

[under-cotton-and-calicos]

Take Me Back To Eden

Multiple Ghosts x AFAB Reader

AN: It’s been a long while. I’ve been busy [insert unhinged ao3 author life update here]. This has been sitting in my drafts for the LONGEST time jeez. Wasn’t really satisfied with any of the directions it took so I finally sat down and committed to something. May or may not have a sequel. I recommend listening to “Descending” by Sleep Token while you read this. As the title implies, I’m kinda obsessed with the band right now. Enjoy!

tags: cult sex, orgy, heavy dubcon, ghosts, ancient deity, mind manipulation, oral sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, WEIRD CUM

Word count: 3.9k

With a pathetic sputter, the incessant humming of your old corolla’s engine gives way to silence. For a few moments, you sit in the dark and quiet, a mixture of excitement and anxiety raising goosebumps on your skin. You’ve done this hundreds of times, you’re sure that today you’re going to get your big hit. It has to be.

You slam your car door shut and take a deep breath, a gym bag filled with equipment and cameras slung over one shoulder, your free hand guiding the beam of your heavy duty torch across the entrance of the abandoned bar. The old, faded sign perched above its entrance is unreadable, faintly you can make out traces of looping letters. Its battered and dusty exterior belies the rumours you’ve heard about the place.

You were supposed to come with your posse, but every single one of them had work or family issues that cropped up at the last minute. Not one to be deterred by fear, you ended up making the drive down alone. In spite of the cool night, your skin is warm with anticipation as you cross the threshold and slip into the bar.

Not much is known about its origins or history- it’s a small, rundown lot in a slow and quiet part of town, so no one has ever paid it much attention. It had been a hole-in-the-wall style pub that attracted a small and dedicated group of patrons before mysteriously closing abruptly. Hours of digging through the net gave you enough reason to suspect that there was an abnormal cause behind why it still hadn’t been bought out for decades, though. The reports of ghostly apparitions in the crevices of obscure forums led you down a rabbit hole. Soon enough, you managed to find a video posted online, taken by some teenagers roped in by a bet. You studied it for hours, pausing at every frame.

You can still remember the sweet thrill, the goosebumps that formed on your skin when you noticed the wispy, grey figures hidden behind corners in several frames. Jackpot. 

Your friends had told you that they were edited but your gut told you otherwise. There was a genuine fear in those kids’ eyes, you bet on it.

As you manoeuvre through old tables and chairs, you notice that the furniture is still well kept, barring the fact that everything is covered in layers of dust.The retro style bar, stools and shelves are all in good condition, though lacking bottles of booze and the typical drink making paraphernalia. Maybe someone still cares for the place? 

You notice a few doors that hadn’t been explored in the video, so you try each handle, one of them leading to an empty storage room, another leading to a kitchen behind the bar, the next to a decrepit restroom. Curiously, there’s a long stairway behind a stuffy curtain going down to what you presume is a basement door. There’s an inlaid symbol on the door, made from burnished golden metal, its fine quality at odds with everything else in the bar. You’ve never seen anything like it before- the silhouette of a tree firmly rooted to the earth, its branches and roots reminiscent of…horns?

There’s something compelling about it. Your stomach dips at the thought of you opening the door, but you want to. There’s something on the other side of it.

When you yank on the handle, it doesn’t budge, breaking you out of your momentary stupor. You shake your head and blink. 

Caught up in the moment?

“Damn.” You sigh. Typically, you would leave lockpicking to another one of your friends. There isn’t much you can do about it, so you decide to set up a few thermal cameras overlooking the tables and bar, as well as an REM pod for proximity detection on the countertop.

Kneeling behind the countertop, you turn on your spirit box, its harsh white noise filling the quiet. Through the static, you call into the night.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

There’s no response, but you introduce yourself and continue. You’re well accustomed to this pattern already, after years of this. The hauling of equipment, meticulously setting everything up, dicking around for a few hours and then packing up and heading home. Keep the time spent idle low, and expectations even lower. Perhaps it’s because you’re alone tonight. There’s a charge in the atmosphere, a certain secrecy and wonder to the ritual.

“I'd really like it if you told me your name.”

“Like.” The artificial, crackly word emerges from the static.

“Yes, I’d like it if you introduced yourself too.” You wait a few more moments before the next word. For a while, monosyllabic words are all you receive. So you dig and prompt until you tag onto something.

“More.”

“More?”

“M…More tha-an.” 

“There’s more than one of you?” You say, peering around the empty bar. There’s no sign of the specters from the video, only swirling mites of dust suspended in the air under the glow of your torchlight. “Where are you?”

“H-Here.”

Suddenly, your REM pod flashes green, red, blue against the shadows, signalling that something is close by, very close by. But instead of its typical bleeping, a warbled wail echoes through the empty bar, causing you to flinch from how loud it is. The fuck?

You turn around and direct your torch towards the pod. Your heart falters.

A crowd of grey specters are standing behind the counter, their forms towering over where you’re kneeled on the ground. Their bodies are featureless, rippling as though they could blink out of existence at any moment, at odds with the physical realm. For a second, you can’t bring yourself to do anything. You feel dread, you're stunned, but underneath it all, the irrational, ghost hunting geek in you is baffled. Holy shit, holy shit.

You jump to your feet, backed against the shelves. Their heads tilt upwards, following your movement. And then you’re fleeing, terror driving you to run from the very situation that you’ve been chasing down for years.

The moment you’re behind the steering wheel, you step on the gas, your corolla protesting as it's jolted out of its sleep and forced to shoot down the empty street. You don’t stop to turn and look.

“Wait.” A real voice overlaps with the one coming from your spirit box still clutched in your sweaty palm, but you don’t stop, turning the corner around the countertop and passing through an ethereal, translucent arm reaching out to stop you. You burst out of the bar into the cooler night air and shakily jam your key into your car, cursing as you struggle to get the door open.

Holy shit, you chant over and over again, they’re real, they’re real!

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Your alarm wakes you from a restless slumber, one of many in the past few months. With a groan, you fumble for your phone with your eyes still closed and turn it off. 

“Fuck…” You curse at the soreness in your back and slick between your legs. It happened again last night.

Tugging your underwear down, you stare at the sticky mess you’d created in your sleep. Glimpses of your dream, or nightmare, flash through your head, sending a quiver down your spine. Your breath hitches at the thought, you palm your stiff nipples through your ratty old shirt and begin fingering your cunt, warm and dripping wet. 

You’ve been tormented by a string of dreams lately, each one leaving you aching in the morning. So much so that you have had to incorporate masturbation into your morning routine. It’s never satisfying though, your fingers and toys don’t come even close to what you experience in the nasty recesses of the dreamscape hidden in your mind. All of them are vivid and realistic, but when you wake, you can only recall little snatches- greedy hands taking their fill of your body and being bent over, being filled…being defiled.

And with your equipment left at the bar, what can you do? There is no evidence of your findings. You can’t tell your friends that you’ve been having wet dreams almost incessantly since that night alone in the bar. You would seem like a lunatic.

But it wouldn’t be wrong to call this a kind of madness. Frantic and possessive. Bodies cast in vibrant colour, shadowed and swaying against you. Cast in the black behind your eyelids is a gold insignia, beckoning you closer and closer.

With a whimper, you cum, body folding over and shaking as you ride out your climax. Temporarily satiated, you slump back into your pillows dramatically, staring at your ceiling. Something from that bar had followed you home. And you want to go back.

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

The empty district is just as quiet as it was the last time you were here. It’s a cold night, and you tug your sweater around your shoulders as you lean back in your car seat. It’s undeniable that you’re a little scared- you feel like one of those idiot teenagers in horror movies that get themselves killed for wandering recklessly into danger. Again, something tells you that it’s different. Or maybe you’re just horny.

With your torch in one hand and your phone in the other, you enter the bar. All of your equipment is just as you left it. You trace your finger over the REM pod on the countertop, dusty but intact. It’s…quiet.

What did you expect? To get jumped the moment you came in? There’s no sign of the specters as well. You’re a bit disappointed, because it means that those dreams you’ve been having might not have been supernatural at all, and worse, the specters might have been a figment of your imagination.

Just as you resolve to pack up your things and leave, a sliver of light catches your eye, cast against the dark floor. Purple light streams between the curtains that lead to the locked basement. Your heart begins to pick up pace again, and you rush over, brushing aside the thick, heavy fabric to see the stairway down illuminated. The door is open!

“H-Hello?” You call out, flicking your torchlight off and leaning it against a step. With hesitant steps, you descend, eyes adjusting to the dim artificial light. You know this atmosphere, this tension in the air from the distinctive purple haze of your dreams. Almost instinctively, your core warms and you can feel yourself shiver, a conditioned response.

 When you reach the base of the stairs, your breath stalls in your throat and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips. The same apparitions that have been haunting your dreams are there, facing you, as if waiting for your inevitable return. Your nervous eyes scan the rest of the room, it looks like you’ve stepped into another realm entirely- gone are the cheap and neon plastics of the bar, there’s a pool of fabrics and pillows, and an altar, carved from stone with tall pillars of candles by its sides.

Dazed, you don’t realise that you’ve been walking until you’re a few feet in front of the specters, their heads following you uncannily. 

“I-I…” You sputter, jittery under their heavy, obscured gaze. They haven’t even done anything to you yet, but your head is all cotton and gauze. Slowly, you sink to your knees.

“My dreams. I’ve seen you there.” You say, awe-struck. A delicate voice replies, soft as a gossamer sheet.

“I am glad that you’ve returned.” It confuses you. You’re not sure if the voice is coming from one of the specters before you or if it’s echoing through your head, like you’re on a phone call with someone in the same room as you. Up close, their forms are ethereal, shimmering and tinted purple from the lights, shifting ever-so-slightly.

You can still make out the shape of a mouth and a nose on their faces, as well as outlines of their limbs and hands. One reaches out to you, fitting the curve of your cheek in the palm of their hand- your eyes widen at the touch, it feels real, cold but solid against you.

“Good one…pretty one…” They close around you, clamouring to touch you. A hand combs through your hair, traces the curve of your ear, another slides past the collar of your shirt to the dip between your shoulder blades, and one presses its fingers against your lips.

Strange, you think, opening your mouth obediently for the cold fingers to savour the wet warmth of your tongue. Every cell in your body is alight, bristling with energy and ready to burst at the seams. This is what you’ve been wanting for so, so long. 

How could I have been terrified of them before this?

“More, more.” Not enough of you is exposed it seems. You shed your sweater, your hard nipples visible through thin fabric. The atmosphere bristles a bit, you think, as you finally discard your shirt, your breasts and inviting skin on display for them to grab at, their touch growing more hungry.

They whisper, trailing lower and lower. You close your eyes for just a moment, the jostling bodies around you giving way to darkness as you relish in the feeling of hands that grope your chest, firm nipples being pinched and tugged at, your bare body slowly becoming accustomed to their supernatural chill. Something bumps against your lips and you smile, opening your eyes once again to bat your eyelashes up at the specter that has its stiff cock in hand, unabashedly asking for entry.

You open wide, sticking your tongue out for the specter to slide its head against you. You think you hear a whimper, and you’re pleased to feel it twitching as you close your mouth around it, humming as you bob your head and take more of its length down your throat. It’s solid, hard like a human’s, and you can feel the bump of veins trailing down its shaft. Behind you, one kneels down and presses its torso up against your back, a hand cupping your soaking sex and another kneading your breast. 

“Here…!” Two more specters hovering over you tug at your arms impatiently, wrapping your hands around their own dicks. Obliging their requests, you stroke them lazily, eyes flitting between all of the spirits that surround you. The ones that are not latched to your body stand a short distance away, fisting themselves, undoubtedly staring at you get busy. Underneath their innumerable gaze, you’re exhilarated, and a thought flits through your mind- they’ll all have a chance to run you through later, and you’ll be able to experience it all in reality. 

The specter shoves two fingers into your needy hole, grinding them against your sweet spot. You falter, but the specter that’s in your mouth clamps its hands around your head, sinking so deep that your face is flush with their crotch. The two rut into your tightened grip, gasping and groaning fills your head.

“So good…so good…Ah!” 

When a finger flicks at your clit, you cum hard, body arching and thighs quaking. You’re stunned momentarily, and you swallow back the spit pooling in your throat, squeezing around the specter. Suddenly, its grip in your hair grows stronger, bordering on pain as it cums too, cold, thick liquid shooting into the back of your throat and covering your tongue. It tastes like nothing, you note, gasping for air when it detaches from you and releases its grip on your head.

What catches you off guard is the colour of its seed, a thick white substance that drips down your chin onto the floor between your legs, giving off an otherworldly glow. Immediately, another takes its place- the one on the right that had you fisting its cock guides it into your mouth and plugs you up again. This one is less patient, it holds you in place and fucks into your mouth. They use you like a sex toy, taking turns occupying your hands and mouth, grabbing at your chest and fingering your cunt. Any hesitation or endearing nervousness that occupied the specters has disappeared, and you’re elated. You lose count of how many have cum on you, they spill on your face, your chest, covering you in their ungodly semen. It becomes a dizzying cycle, and between your climaxes and theirs’, you lavish them with all that you can give, just as you did in your dreams. What you can take down your throat, you do gladly, an appreciative hum is your reward when you obediently swallow and accept the spurts of cum onto your body.

Suddenly, after a specter smears its cum across your tits, you’re pulled to your feet. Shaky and tired legs unable to support your body, you’re carried over to the altar that you saw earlier and laid upon it. It’s the perfect height, and you groan as a specter grinds its cock against your wet folds. Your legs are spread wide apart, and the empty spaces around you are quickly taken by eager spirits. They pause though, and seem to wait for something patiently. A name is called, something unintelligible, not in the human tongue, not anything you’ve heard before.

They say something in an alien tongue, and look upwards to the ceiling. There is something you didn’t notice before, the same sigil as the one on the door is painted there. In a split second, a collage of memories are made clear in your mind’s eye- you see offerings of wine and food, people kneeling before hulking statues and trees, orgies in secluded areas where hedonism flourishes, lush with the scent of sex and flowers.

The specter between your legs breaks you out of your reverie, and you’re suddenly in the basement once again, fully aware of your dripping cunt, the need. There’s an energy in the room that wasn’t there previously, charged and crackling. You groan when it fits its bulbous head against your entrance, hands kneading the flesh of your thighs as it enters you. And finally, finally you are one with them. You stare entranced at where you are joined, its thick, translucent cock stretching your starved cunt.

“Fuck me, please.” You rasp, throwing your head back when it begins to thrust into you, setting a brutal pace. Again, the specters crowd around you and put you to work. Closing your eyes, you lose yourself in the wave of pleasure, the friction of the heavy cock in your pussy, the numerous hands that guide you and delight in the touch of your skin.

“You…you…” The voice bristles in your head, and there it is again- snatches of that scene and the voice, it’s getting stronger. You can barely focus, between the ghostly bodies all around you and the thread of a connection to It. They’re both equally addictive- the delicious stretch and fill, the wandering hands all over your overstimulated body, and the irresistible draw to something powerful and primordial. Closer, closer, closer.

The specter fucking into you quivers, its pace quickening and its thrusts growing shallower. It’s about to cum inside you, and you wrap your legs around its translucent torso to force it even deeper inside. In response, its hands grab your hips with so much force that you’re sure they’re going to bruise.

“Perfect.” The word is whispered into the shell of your ear, low but with the power of a command. Instantly, you feel like euphoria has flooded your body, too much of it. Every sensation is painfully amplified, the bliss of each thrust between your legs rapturous and overwhelming. You cum, and the specter does too, you can feel its cold seed like ice in your hot, hot cunt, flooding you, seeping into your being. Every cell in your body is screeching from pleasure so high that it hurts. 

“Oh. Too much?” 

There’s tears streaming down your cheeks. Your thoughts are melting together and no words form on your tongue, all you can manage is a pathetic nod as your body seizes in agony and orgasmic bliss.

“Apologies, it’s been a while.” It says, and just as quick as it compelled you, the euphoria is sapped from your body. The relief is another form of pleasure, and as you relax, you feel a gush of liquid seep past where you’re joined to the specter- you’re squirting, a puddle of it forming on the altar and dripping onto the floor. 

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” It whispers again, cool and calm as you gasp for breath. “I like it.”

“What…what-” You’re cut off by the specter dragging its cock out of you, leaving you gaping for the next one in line. You let out a high-pitched whine as the mix of semen and your slick spills out of you. As though to comfort you, one specter cradles your cheek and promptly nudges its dick past your lips. They seem to be oblivious to the conversation going on, or they carry on in spite of it.

“Don’t think. Just let go.” Another cock is thrust into you, barely giving you any reprieve as it pounds into you, intent on getting you filled again.

What are you?

“A vague question gets you a vague answer.” It tuts, “I am the bliss that found its way into your dreams, the cruelty that left you wanting more, and the hunger that brought you back here to me.”

Hands reach out to pinch and twist your nipples and clit, forcing you to let out a muffled yelp.

“It hardly seems fair for you to pay little attention to those who have been fucking you so vigorously. Well, given that you can’t form a coherent thought, the ones that have you speared on their cocks are my most devoted followers. They have been so gracious as to offer their spirits for my perusal.”

And now you understand- it’s a god, an ancient deity on the ceiling looking down upon you, casting its impartial and frigid gaze on this debauchery, orchestrated for its sake.

“And you, my little pleasure, are the first taste of life I’ve had down here in a long time.” Its tone has a vicious bite, excitement palpable. At that, the specters, or puppets in you cum, the elation of their master influencing their own pleasure, no doubt. You choke around the cock forced down your throat, cutting off your breathing until it pulls free from you and you choke down air and seed.

You’re so replete, so tired, you’re not sure whether you can take anymore-

“You will.” 

Warily, you sweep your gaze across the hoard of hungry spirits hunched over you.

“After all, isn’t this what you wanted?”

Throughout the night, you’re used over and over, your poor cunt fucked and filled more times than you can count. Just as you think it may end, another specter is between your legs, alternating between lapping up the mess between your legs and pumping its seed into you again. All while some ancient and cruel god speaks to you. With each climax, you feel your consciousness slipping further away, the teasing and praise of the voice in your ear growing ever more distant…

When you wake, you’re exhausted. The specters had disappeared, leaving you on the altar. Despite the throbbing in your core and muscles, you manage to pull your clothes back on and make your way up the stairs, the unpleasant stickiness of your skin urging you to get home as soon as possible so you can take a shower.

A draft sends a chill down your spine, a whisper like a caress brushes past you.

I’ll see you soon, little pleasure.

You’re relieved to see your corolla on the streetside, and as you limp to your car you make a mental note to pack up your equipment the next time you’re here.

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Combining Creatures

(image description: sketch of a cat-like creature with a long prehensile tail and a back full of sharp quills. the creature is crouched in an angry defensive pose. above it is the title "cohesive chimeric design". end description.)

combining different animal traits to make a new creature is such a common part of fantasy world that the word most frequently used to describe it is the name of an ancient greek monster that combined a lion, goat, and snake. Now, the original chimera is usually depicted with a lion head, a goat head, and a snake for a tail, usually all attached to a lion body. But I and many other people prefer to combine our creatures in more cohesive ways, trying to make them look like whole living beings, not a frankenstein creation (though those certainly have their place and I do not disparage anyone who prefers them!)

I get asked about this topic a lot, so I'm just putting my advice in one post now! and for my example, I'm going to be using the original chimera as inspiration and combining the features of a lion, goat, and snake.

the first steps are identifying the creatures you want to combine and the end result you want to reach. These two steps are pretty interchangeable! Maybe you already know you want to combine a pig and a racoon, but you're not sure what your end result should be. Or maybe you know you want to make a creature that lives underground and digs holes to catch prey walking over it, using different real life animal traits, but you haven't decided which animals to use.

it's alright to take your time thinking things over and working out the details, and you should never be afraid of doing things over if the creation process brings you some new ideas! It's so rare for a first attempt to be the final result. think about the purpose this creature will serve in your project, do some research on mythological creatures and real animals that have similar behaviors and traits, and adjust your concept until you're satisfied.

and i already know this post will be so long, so the rest is under a cut.

My idea for the chimera design here is that I didn't want it to have multiple heads. Multiple heads is already a difficult design to make believable, and having three heads that are all so different from each other is just a lot to work with. I needed it to look monstrous and I needed the three animals to still be recognizable in the design while also blending them together until it looked a bit more natural.

step one: identify end result and base creatures. Chimera. Lion, goat, snake. find reference images.

(image description: a photo collage of a lion with a partly black mane, a small brown and white goat, and a cobra snake, as well as an old black and orange plate with a chimera design in the middle. end description.)

I picked a cobra for the snake because it matches with the general region that chimeras originate from and also because the hood has a similar shape to the lion's mane. which brings me to the next step!

step two: identify similarities and differences between your base creatures.

(image description: same as above, but now the animals have been colored over in flat shades to show how their body parts match or differ in shape. end description.)

the goat and lion have more in common with each other than they do with the cobra, because they're both quadrupedal mammals while the snake is a legless reptile. but! all three animals have a roughly oblong face shape, and the lion's tail is long and flexible like the snake's, as well as the matched shape of the mane and hood. the coloration of all three animals also look a little similar, with all of them having some level of contrasting light and dark patches.

step three: start sketching out the details.

combine the similar traits, emphasize the different ones. focus on designing the parts that will really make your creature recognizable, and the traits that will be the most important. make some full body drafts! do it as many times as you need to get things looking the way you want. compare and contrast different ideas!

(image description: sketches of a chimera's different important body parts and the full body shape and pose. there are two different eye designs, one with a snake's vertical pupil and one with a goat's horizontal pupil. likewise, there are two foot designs focused on a more lion-like shape and a more goat-like shape, and also two different snout designs with one being snake-like and the other being lion-like. there are also sketches of a snake-like head with goat horns and lion ears, a front-facing head with the cobra-like hood shape, and a long snake-like tail with a furred tuft at the end end description.)

step four: finalize your idea.

as fun as it is to keep sketching, you do have to finish things at some point! pick your favorite ideas and move forward with them. give yourself one good final design and stick with it, making adjustments on it instead of creating more new ideas.

(image description: a new chimera design colored in a terracotta orange with white and black stripes and spots all over its body. it has a snake-like head with twisted horns, a short goat-like beard, and a swooping furred cobra hood. its ears are short and rather cat-like, its feet have long sharp cloven hooves, and its tail is curled over its back with a furred tuft at the end. its mouth is wide open, teeth bared and forked tongue sticking out. end description.)

look at that! I had a lot of fun drawing it! step five is to polish your design, whatever that means for you. I'm going to leave this one just as it is, because my idea of a polished design takes hours and I don't feel like doing all that right now. I could paint it out in full and make the textures and colors much cleaner and more obvious.

one important step of polishing, for me, is also making sure your creature fits in the world you're making it for. give it natural behaviors, figure out how it interacts with other creatures and people in the setting. this extra step will really make your world feel more alive and coherent!

the most important step of course is to enjoy your creative work! you've got cool ideas and you should be proud of that!

[thinkblotted]

A Little Treat

We're all allowed to have one.

-

So. Things happened. Are happening. I will continue posting about stupid 80s vampire boys until I'm physically unable. Speaking of which, this drabble was inspired by something @enquiringangel mentioned a good while back (as in like. Two months lol)

The final draft doesn't have any Micky-Ds in it, but it does have Paul being the most annoying thing in the space at any given moment.

Enjoy!

Paul’s digging into his pockets before the blood was even dry on his face. 

Hand still smeared with gore, claws barely retracted, Paul rummages through first the front pockets of his jacket, grumbling when he only pulls out crumpled receipts, a broken pen, and twenty three cents worth of pocket change. He goes for the inner pockets next. 

The receipt drifts in the slight breeze blowing in across the waves and catches under Dwayne’s nose, still pressed to the body as he drinks. He snorts, startled at the intrusion and pulls off.

“What the fuck?” He growls, licking his fangs clean. Paul just shakes his head. 

“I know it’s here somewhere, I swear I stashed ‘em in here…” 

Now Marko comes up, finished with his own meal. The flesh around his bite is ragged, still needing a few tries before he finds the best spot. “Dude, you gotta kick the habit.” 

Paul throws him a scowl. “I don’t <i>gotta</i> do anything.” 

“It’s candy that’s older than my grandma, Paulie.”

“Your mom is older than your grandma,” Paul huffs, starting to realize it’s a losing battle. 

David finally speaks up. He’s further away, down the shoreline where the sandy dunes meet real dirt, among a grove of scraggly trees. He’d had his fill and gone to start making preparations for hiding their evidence. (At least, for long enough that identifying the body would take time.) He had stripped off his coat and overshirt, wearing only the thin black tee as he kneeled on the ground. Hands curled into claws and covered from fingertip to upper arm in sand and dirt. Digging, in only a way vampires can, a shallow grave. 

“First - nice comeback, Einstein. Second - I’m saving you your dignity.” 

”What!?” Paul yelps. 

David rolls his eyes. “A vampire eating candy? That’s a hill you’re dying a second time on?” 

“I paid for it!” 

Marko laughs. “You did not, you liar.” 

Paul finally abandons his search, now knowing his prize was never there in the first place, and stalks over to David. 

“Where’d you put them?” 

David shrugs and goes back to widening the hole. (If some sand happens to hit his packmate, then oops.) 

“Like I’m telling you.”  

“They’re mine!” 

David turns an icy glare up to Paul. “And keeping that shit around attracts pests. I don’t know about you, but I’m trying to avoid the place I live being more rat-eaten than it has to be.” 

“Or covered in feathers and bird shi-” 

“Hey!” Marko interrupts Dwayne and his little comment, laughter turning to a scowl. 

Paul for his makes a disgusted noise and about-faces, intent on going right back to the nest and finding his sugary prize. The blood will have settled in his system by then, and the sparkling, dizzying energy that came with drinking it will have lost that bright edge. Fucking shame. Food always tasted best as a chaser. Life remembering itself in his dead body, if for only a few minutes before the clock began ticking down again. 

His three packmates watch him go, grinning amongst each other. 

“Good ‘n Plenties aren’t even good!” Marko shouts to his back. 

“Fuck off!” 

-

Paul lays on the rim of the fountain, eyes idly watching the wind spinners and mobiles twirl around languidly in the errant draft. Scattered around him were tins and boxes and clothing that had been lifted and tossed aside in his hunt, but sadly, no sweet candy had been found for him to claim, no matter how he’d torn through the place. David must have either buried it, or just tossed it into the ocean, because there wasn’t an inch of the place he hadn’t checked. 

He sighs and flips himself over, laying on his belly now. Legs kicking up, one arm tucked under his chin while the other dangled down near the floor. A single finger traces idle patterns on the sand. 

If he imagined hard enough, he could practically feel the crack of their hard shells before sticking his teeth together with the softer insides. Like bone marrow. Mm. And the sugar would be so good - it slicked his tongue and the licorice flavor was bitter in the best way. It tasted like it was supposed to. Like he remembered. Paul’s tongue traces a tooth, wanting. 

But, even now, only an hour after the feed, the taste would have been getting muffled again. He’d be fine for another day or two, but any longer and anything but blood and meat would start to taste like the cardboard packaging the candy came in. His body didn’t want sugar. It wanted fat and salt and iron. 

Life. Powerful, sustaining life.

He grumbles low, undefined curses to no one, at everyone.

So it was a little old school. So what? Not like the rest of them didn’t have favorite things from eras past. (There had been a car show in town last year, and they’d basically had to tie Dwayne down to keep him from nicking a Packard ‘22. They were good little thieves, but disappearing a whole damn sixty year old car was something not even they were stupid enough to try. And don’t even get Paul started on the deep, dark hole where Marko kept his disco vinyls…)

Stupid body. Stupid David. 

Paul can feel him, and the others, in the back of his head, like watching pings on a radar. He knows David is feeling his annoyance as background noise that’s easily tuned out. He thinks about annoying him further by sending it to him more pointedly, but that would be a lot of work, and David could just shut him out all the way. 

Paul watches the firelight from the drums flicker against the cave walls, his finger languidly twirling. Letting the gears turn in his head. 

David had things he liked that weren’t ‘dignified’ or whatever. He smoked like a chimney and drank like a fish. Sure, it looked cool, and Paul could understand the itch for the nicotine or alcohol to smooth out the rough edges of the world, but it wasn’t the <i>vampire</i> part that wanted it. And the clothing! David and Dwayne had always been punks, even when the definition of the word was slightly different than it was now. They’d just traded in their cuffed jeans and slicked hair for grunge and dark eclectica. The rock and roll for…well, a different kind of rock and roll, Paul supposes. 

Whatever. Same principle. David was still such a hypocrite. 

The irritation seethes in Paul. His eyes narrow as he glares, wandering this way and that as though he were physically following the progression of some thought through space. 

Suddenly, as though striking a bell, Paul breaks out into a manic grin. His blue eyes light glittering yellow in the center and all in a rush he skitters away into the depths of the nest. 

This was going to get interesting. 

-

“Where is my hair gel?” 

David stands in the doorway of the main antechamber of the cave, expression pinched. 

He’s dressed in one of his usual ensemble - dark pants and shirt, but sans vest and coat for the moment. It was early, and they’d been planning on going out to see what Hell they could raise around the concert circuit, depending on who or what was playing, and like the person he was, David took just a little longer to preen himself. Part of which involved gelling the hair on the crown of his head. 

At the moment, it was damp from a wash, still in unsightly clumps that alternatively stuck up at the wrong angles or layed plastered to his forehead. Not exactly the most intimidating sight in the world. 

Marko snorted behind his hand at the sight, and Dwayne looked up from considering his own jacket and whether it would need some new stitching at the shoulder. 

“Your what?” He asks. 

David steps into the room, hands on his hips. “My gel. I had a new container of it right on the shelf and it’s not there.” 

Before Dwayne can assure David that he hadn’t moved it in an organizational fit, or Marko could deny that well, he didn’t use gel so it wasn’t him, there was a jingle and a thump, and Paul is landing with all the grace of a lion behind David, having slipped down from some hidden nook high above in the rafters. 

He rises from his crouch with a sinuous roll, hands never leaving the pockets of his own curated black jacket, the belts slung over his shoulder and multitude of bracelets covering his arms making music with every step. 

“What’s the matter?” He drawls. 

David flashes his teeth, a growl rising in his throat. “My. Hair gel.” He over pronounces each word, as though it needed to be spelled out. “Where is it.” 

Paul stands in front of him, shoulders back and relaxed, eyes drifting. He hasn’t indulged in anything tonight yet, but he’s slow in his speech, carefree in his words. He gives David’s hair a once over, and then the rest of him in a long look. 

“Why in the world would a vampire care about something like that?” Paul asks with a shrug. 

Before David can react, before anyone can react, Paul is skirting around David and up to the entrance, giving a jaunty wave and a jovial laugh behind him. “See you dorks topside! I wanna actually catch the music.” 

And he’s. Gone. 

Marko and Dwayne look from the place he’d been, to David. 

David, who stands there for a moment staring after their missing member with an expression on his face somewhere between gobsmacked and ready-to-smack. 

In the end, David doesn’t find his gel. He settles for using some old hair spray, enduring a night of looking a bit like a blond hedgehog had made a home on top of his head, and letting the others be front and center. All the while glaring at Paul, who remains just far enough out of his way that David can’t get a grip on him. 

-

The storm is rolling in, much faster than the weatherman on the radio had predicted. 

The boats in the dark marina bob in the breeze that had picked up significantly even in the past few minutes. It’s blowing in hot and humid, a taste of the squall that’s rumbling in just off-shore. They didn’t have time to fuck around - not if they didn’t want to have their meal while drowning like rats in a bucket. 

But they were still missing a member. 

Marko is further down the beach and out of sight, keeping eyes on their target. Dwayne is perched like a massive gargoyle on the prow of a beached boat, keeping an ear out for unwanted interlopers. David is glaring at the sky. Lightning cracks across the sea only a few miles out. He can feel Paul somewhere in the back of his head only insomuch as Paul was a member of his pack that existed, but not where, not how far off. Not if he was getting closer. 

Bright urgency streaks through the bond, Marko letting them know that the boathouse clerk was starting to close up for the night. Even stumbling drunk, the man was a functional alcoholic who knew how to drive in a straight enough line to get himself home - in town. 

David hisses, teeth on full display and leavers himself away from the side of the boat, having been leaning against it smoking himself hoarse to try and keep calm. 

“Easy,” Dwayne murmurs above him. 

“I’m going to use his scalp for a fucking boot cover,” David snarls, throwing his latest smoke to the rocky beach and grinding it to smithereens under his heel. 

“He probably just got distracted. Again.” 

Dwayne says it calmly enough, but even still, there’s a hard set to his mouth and his eyes get a little darker with every patter of stray raindrops that had started to fall from the sky. The storm was basically upon them, thundering inland as the unstoppable force of nature it was. Again, Marko basically screams through the bond that if they didn’t move now, they’d miss their chance. 

Something something, most predators miss nine times out of ten. David liked to think they were smarter than most animals, but at times, he had his doubts. 

A massive wall of wind hits the beach, bringing with it a wall of rain, hard and fast. The sea lashes at the shore and the tied boats next to the docks toss. Dwayne ducks his head against it, wincing as his hair lashes against his face. The tarp over the deck of the boat picks up, flapping against him, and he calls it quits, jumping to the ground to join David in the shelter on the aft, just out of the worst of the wind. 

“Think he’s got enough on his head for two pairs of boots?” He growls at David. 

Above, the sky lights purple and blue with a massive streak of lightning, the sound deafening. Close enough that they can almost taste the crackle of electricity in the air, hear the whine of it as it splits the atmosphere. 

Marko comes charging out of the darkness, head ducked against the wind, almost flung to the side as another gust brings the first proper round of rain with it. His own expression is pinched and upset, eyes narrowed into yellow slits as he glares at David. 

“What the fuck! We had this in the bag, David! What, were the stars just not in position for this or something?” He asks incredulously. 

David matches the searing ire in his head with his own, though it’s not really directed at Marko. 

Even Dwayne can’t seem to hold back the rumbling displeasure that they’d not only lost their quarry, but that they’d gotten soaked in the process. 

Another crack of lightning splits the sky, a little further off, and in the distance, like a whirling top, spinning about a bowl, a body surfs the wind. It’s lit from behind for a moment, arms outstretched, reveling in the beauty and danger of nature, how close it could come to complete destruction, but without fear that held any mortal back. 

Paul sweeps in on a blast of storm, his hair a cloud around his head and his smile and white as the lightning. He’s soaked through, shirtless, panting as though he’d gone through some exertion. 

“Boy, nothing like waiting for it to stir up just before the shit hits to go flying!” He crows to his pack with a boyish, gleeful laugh.

David is already moving. He makes a swipe at Paul, claws out, ready tor pull him in and make damn good on his promise of scalping - but Paul sees it coming. Keyed up from his flight, he nimbly hops away, getting a little more air one final time before setting down again. Still grinning, but there’s more of an edge to it, now. More teeth. 

“Aw, what, did you wanna come with?” He asks. 

“We were supposed to be here, at eleven!” Snarls David. “What in the actual fuck were you doing?”

And Paul guffaws. 

He laughs, incredulous, as though David were telling some kind of bad pun, of a story where there’s an unfortunate ending for some poor fucker. 

“What’s it look like I was doin’?” He asks, thumbing over his shoulder at the storm that’s still going strong around them. “Went flying!” 

“We were supposed to hunt tonight,” Marko hisses, not un-catlike. 

“We were waiting for you,” Dwayne says, with all the guilt sent right through the bond like an arrow aimed true. 

Paul’s grin slips off his face. It doesn’t disappear however, simply sinking into something else. A new, subtler, more simpering smile. Which he sends right at David. 

“I don’t see what the problem is. I was just enjoying being a vampire.” 

And just the same, before anyone has any chance to react, Paul is kicking himself up. Back up into the gale above, to ride the wind currents, tossed like a toy boat on a violent sea. His howls echo across the water, distorted with each wave of wind. 

There’s a twitch under David’s eye. 

-

”So what if those girls saw us? We could just hunt them down, we’re vampires, remember?" 

”Hey, I thought the rings were really pretty, they make good additions to the decor, right? Don;t do no one any good sitting in a glass box. We’re immortal, crime doesn’t mean shit.”

”Yeah, I invited them back to the cave, it’s Friday night, party night! If they ever try to come to the nest again, we can just off ‘em.” 

David sits in his wheelchair, head in his hand. He was staring, unblinking, at an unremarkable spot on the ground, some feet away. Marko and Dwayne were nowhere to be found. It was just him. 

And Paul’s fucking music. 

The boombox had been placed up on one of the makeshift tables, where the acoustics would ring best across the huge atrium. To the sides, Paul had broken out some amp cords and had plugged it into two speakers, the pornographic, screaming metal doubly loud. And to top it off, he’d slid a curved sheet of plastic siding behind it. To direct the sound right out where he wanted it. 

So he could dance to it. 

Paul scoots across the floor of the cave, digging his heels into the stone and sand so that when he moved, it flung up, scattering like glitter and getting into just as many nooks and crannies. He was humming just off-kilter with the beat of the music, and mumbling the wrong words, mincing the chorus with the verse. It sounded awful. 

And no matter where he went in the caves, David could hear it. 

Dwayne and Marko had cleared out, a while ago. At the low end of the season, the Boardwalk was slower, but it beat this. Whatever Hell this was. 

Paul shimmies up to David, that fucking <i>glint</i> in his eye. David goes still, and his eyes flash a yellow so dark it made them look like two coals glowing in the burn barrels at the end of a long night. 

He leans over David, hips still swaying. 

“What’s the matter? Too loud?” 

David didn’t say anything. Paul pretends to pout. To think. 

“Too…much?” 

The hand that’s clutching the armrest of the wheelchair tightens, and supernatural ears could hear the groaning of the cast metal. 

Paul tilts his head. Slinking that much closer, until his lips were practically brushing the tip of David’s ear. 

“Too…whatever I want?"

David explodes up and out of the chair. Without a word, he’s slinging around and begins digging at it. Clawing off the teeshirt over the backrest, ripping out the cushion of the seat. Under which is part of the wooden carriage, a little box to settle the seat, supported by the lower crossbars. 

David wraps his hand around a little cardboard box, crushing it in his grip to the point it almost rips in two as he hurls it at Paul’s head. It finds its mark with a rattle and a scatter of the little purple and white candies as it bounces off Paul’s forehead, onto the floor. 

Without another word, he flies off, outside, to find some shadowy hidden place to plot some revenge so dark whatever lived in the Mariana’s Trench would be scared of it. 

Paul watches him go, rubbing at his head. There’s a little cut there, from the edge of the package, which Paul swipes a finger against and then sticks into his mouth. There’s an odd haze to it, the consumption of one’s own blood. But that’s fine. He’s got just the chaser. 

Paul scoops up the box on the ground, torn in half, but still plenty of the candy inside. He pops three into his mouth, and slowly grinds them between his teeth. 

“Sweet,” Paul giggles. 

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

I visited the WGA library to read Yellowjackets scripts and wanted to share some of my findings! (Pt. 1)

So as some of you may know, scripts for the latter half of Yellowjackets Season 1 have already been released to the public (you can find 1x05-1x10 here: https://drive.google.com/drive/mobile/folders/1FctrMniXqWRFJOe-rX6dSgvmXEO2KyLE?usp=share_link) and the Pilot script is pretty easily accessible on the internet if you look it up.

However, I have never been able to find the scripts for the rest of S1. An old draft of 1x04 can be found on Script Slug but A LOT has been changed from this script to the final product (Van is dead, Nat actually killed her dad, Javi is called Cody?!). It’s an interesting read for sure but it seems the actual final script of “Bear Down,” along with “F Sharp” and “Dollhouse,” are not accessible on the internet. So I headed over to the WGA Library and checked out those three scripts to read! It was super interesting (highly recommend going if you’re in the LA area!). I was not able to get any pictures of the scripts due to the Library policy, but I took lots of notes and saved some of my favorite lines!

I’m going to start with 1x02 and make two separate posts of 1x03 and 1x04 because otherwise this post would be way too long!

1x02 “F Sharp”

•The episode starts with Misty’s POV of the crash, and there’s this line that I love:

“Across from her, Lottie reaches forward to desperately clutch Laura Lee’s hand in the aisle. Their shared terror making it all the more clear that, in this moment, Misty is all alone.”

This shows Misty’s longing for companionship and affection. Even in what she thinks might be her last moments, she is utterly alone. I think this moment is part of what tips her over the edge into obsession in her relationships with Coach Ben, Crystal, and Natalie.

•In the final product, we don’t really see what Nat’s POV of the plane crash is (other than her nightmare in 1x03 but I’m not sure if that actually happened or not?) but in the script she gets knocked unconscious and buried under a bunch of luggage and equipment and the other girls have to dig her out.

•Misty and Taissa are the ones to pry the exit door open for everyone to escape.

•Jackie doesn’t even try to save Van in the script, she just immediately runs over and tries to drag Shauna away from Van from the get-go.

“Jackie runs after Shauna and starts clawing at her, trying to get her to move toward the exit.”

•After Shauna and Jackie make it outside the wreckage, Jackie and Shauna “begin fighting angrily in the dirt, Jackie clearly still desperately afraid to remain so close to the fiery wreckage” as Shauna tries to go back in for Van.

•And I just thought this descriptor was a cute little addition; after Misty chops off Coach Ben’s leg, we get this line:

“And as we realize this little show called ‘Yellowjackets’ is sick, unexpected and awesome, we smash cut to—

MAIN TITLE”

•“Laura Lee trying in vain to hold and comfort a struggling, hyperventalating Javi.”

A nice little moment of Laura Lee comforting Javi as he’s trying to find his dad.

•”Jackie: For the record, I was trying to save you. I thought…

I was going to lose you. Jackie bites her lip, a little teary. Shauna glances at her and nods, I know—but we also get the sense that Van isn’t the only one judging Jackie right now.”

A little Jackie/Shauna moment. You can see how much Jackie loves Shauna, but Shauna is still conflicted over Jackie’s choice to leave Van behind.

•Some things Caligula says when Natalie breaks into Misty’s house:

“Hello, pretty lady!”

“Hells bells! My dogs are barking!”

Love this.

•The information Misty has in her secret file: articles and magazine covers about the crash, press clippings, a local wedding announcement for Shauna and Jeff, Taissa’s campaign flyer, and a brochure for Natalie’s rehab clinic.

•When Nat asks Misty why she has all of this information, Misty says:

“You guys are the most important people in my life.”

Just another reminder that Misty’s whole existence revolves around the Yellowjackets, even after 25 years.

•Nat is hyper focused on looking at Travis’s drivers license in the bar scene when Kevyn walks up to her. She totally ignores Kevyn, just focused on Travis’ picture. She is described as looking “pale” and “like she’s seen a ghost.” Just shows how hung up Nat is on Travis and how much that relationship fucked her up.

•Misty says “Holy macaroni” when she sees Coach Martinez’s body. Insane.

•Okay brace yourselves for this one guys, in the script Coach Martinez is STILL ALIVE when they find him impaled on the tree.

“The coach’s eyes pop open. He suddenly grabs Travis. Eyes wild with pain and fear, the coach tries to speak but only makes raspy sounds as blood bubbles at his lips.”

“Travis: Dad! Let go!”

Travis’s dad won’t let go and there’s a scene where Travis is trying to claw him off of him, then the tree branch cracks and Travis shakes his dad off of his arm, “knows it’s his dad or the both of them” and the tree branch falls.

Wow. As if the scene that ended up making it in the final product wasn’t traumatic enough, Travis has to actively let his dad fall to his death when he’s still alive and desperately clinging to him? Ouch. I’m glad they cut that scene honestly poor Travis.

•Shauna is holding Javi and comforting him during and after this scene.

“We see Shauna still comforting Javi, we can’t hear what she’s saying but her body language is very giving—a maternal streak she didn’t know she had.”

Love the nod to Shauna’s maternal nature here. She’s naturally very nurturing and caring, but after she loses her baby she becomes more cold and distant with her other child, Callie, in fear that she will lose her too. I just love seeing the before and after here, we get to see what Shauna was like before all of the trauma. Shauna wants to nurture Callie, it’s a natural part of her personality as this scene with Javi shows, but she can’t get too attached after what happened in the Wilderness.

•In the adult timeline, there’s another deleted scene in which Nat drives to Shauna’s house and spies on her from outside.

“She seems to be fighting an impulse to get out of her car, but her feelings are unclear. Does she look uneasy? Vindictive?”

Another hint the conflict between these two that we still haven’t seen yet? Maybe this is lingering resentment from Shauna challenging Nat’s leadership as the new Antler Queen?

•When Nat hands Travis her flask to drink from after the whole Coach Martinez incident, there’s this line:

“She wants to tell him there is nothing he could have done. How guilt like this is poison, and if he’s going to blame himself she will punch him in the face”

I think this is clearly a nod to Nat’s own guilt around her father’s death. She knows that Travis is likely tearing himself apart inside because she did the same thing after her father’s death. She blamed herself, as Travis is doing now. Also love the punching him in the face line, it’s very on-brand for Nat and honestly wish she had punched him in the face a few times when he deserved it.

*1x03 and 1x04 notes to come!*

[horsegirlwarcrimes]

Alright, you have answered me again (SY gets two daemons sounds extremely interesting! The "what the fuck happened to Shen Qingqiu" Peak Lord meeting in this AU is going to have some shit to talk about, huh!) so now I'm moving on to the next in my list of WIPs I'm really super curious about - Scooby Gang Juniors? Juniors fics are so fun what shenanigans are they getting into?

auw im literally dead u r so kind ( ;´ - `;)♡

scooby gang juniors, actual title some 'Never Love An Anchor' lyrics bc thats the theme song of this fic, is actually the first longfic i ever started writing! it has also been a WIP for mmm. four years or so. i started writing it right after watching the untamed for the first time in 2019 lmao, but never finished it because at that point id never written ANYTHING as long as it was gearing up to be (the outline is 20k). i hope to finally finish it and post it some time soon, probs after WINR and the ZZL&YQY fics are done. its probs some of my fav writing ive ever done but never shared with anyone haha

summary: Wei Wuxian may have drafted a ritual for willingly bringing someone back from the dead somewhere in his madness in the caves of the Burial Mounds, but if he did it was never found. In the absence of a convenient literal ghost from the past to help exact his revenge, Nie Huaisang turns to the next best thing: his old friend's son.

Meanwhile, Lan Sizhui finds a man buried deep underground with soft, familiar eyes.

[Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Jin Ling, Ouyang Zizhen, and Wen Ning go on a life changing field trip, dodge their worried parents, and dig up some corpses, in approximately that order.]

“When I realized how deeply affected by the Yiling Patriarch Hanguang-Jun was, I began to realize where this slip in righteousness had come from. You see, while I and the rest of the cultivation world believed that Lan Wangji had been in secluded cultivation for three years to move to a new level in his cultivation, or because he had been wounded fighting the Yiling Patriarch, the truth is much the opposite. Hanguang-Jun was in seclusion as punishment, for siding with the Yiling Patriarch at the Siege of the Burial Mounds. All along, these famed enemies had secretly been allied.”  Jin Guangyao shook his head, expression deeply sympathetic even as the cultivators of the room began to turn to Hanguang-Jun. Hands went to swords, only remaining undrawn due to the thick tension in the room that had yet to break. Hanguang-Jun stood immovable through it all, flawless as jade and cold as ice.  “I believe the Yiling Patriarch must have altered his mind, and had been using his demonic arts to corrupt him as far back as the Sunshot campaign. Now, with the feared patriarch dead, it seems this would no longer be such an issue. But Wei Wuxian left one final plan even after his death, a fail-safe to bring ruin to the cultivation world once again even when he was long gone, and he entrusted that plan to Hanguang-Jun before his death.”  At last, his eyes met Sizhui’s again. Sizhui’s mouth tasted electric, the buzz of the room crashing into him in waves even as it narrowed just to himself, his uncle at his back, his father, and the man before him. He inhaled through his nose and straightened, perfect Lan posture and the ribbon on his forehead proudly on display. He narrowed his eyes back at Jin Guanyao and did not drop his gaze. Jin Guangyao smiled, a flicker of amusement, before he regained his expression of earnest concern to address the crowd.  “I found proof in the records of the Wen work camps, and writings recovered from the Nightless City. You see, Lan Sizhui, ward of Hanguang-Jun and First Disciple of Gusu Lan, was neither a war orphan nor a poorly concealed bastard, but instead a child smuggled out of the Burial Mounds before the siege.”  Jin Guangyao swept a sleeve over Sizhui’s group.  “Honored cultivators, I stand before you to reveal the surviving heir of the Qishan Wen Sect. Called Lan Sizhui but born Wen Yuan, the son of Wen Xu and his first concubine. Cousin of the Ghost General, and former ward of the Yiling Patriarch, already beginning the work of reviving the Wen and overwhelming the righteous sects with demonic cultivators.”  In the chaos, only one voice cut so bitingly through the noise. Calm and cold and sure, Sizhui latched onto it with all his heart. Anything to avoid looking behind him, at the friends he had lied to.  “So you admit it.” Said Hanguang-Jun, unmoving from his spot amidst the Lan. Jin Guangyao blinked wide eyes at him.  “I’m sorry?”  Hanguang-Jun stepped forward. Even with his name being almost literally dragged through the mud, cultivators still parted around him with automatic deference.  “You admit you knew children were being tortured, in your work camps.” 

[bnhaobservation]

Ramblings about the Todoroki family - Part 1: Todoroki Enji’s origin and teenager years

So it’s finally time for me to try to dig into the Todoroki family, their dynamics and their history.

PREMISE

Someone might have been wondering why I waited so long before making a post for my very own favorite family, the Todoroki family.

Well, truth is I’ve plenty of drafts for a Todoroki family post, taken from various different angles which never ended up being posted because the Todoroki family has some HUGE narrative problems that have nothing to do with the family problems.

The first problem isn’t really a problem but a fact: as BNHA is a Japanese manga, most of the Todorokis’ issues are tied and being seen through the Japanese culture, and Japanese culture is different by the various western ones, so one needs to dig into it to understand what’s going on with them… which is long and time consuming and can end up distracting from the main topic, the Todorokis… never mentioning I’m not really an expert in Japanese culture.

The second, which is, if possibly, even huger, is that the Todoroki family suffered plenty of retcon through the serialization of the manga. This is not a complain, this is generally how manga work. Many manga don’t necessarily follow a detailed and pre planned storyline but, at best, a general outline so the author makes up the story as they go… and might be asked/forced to change it as they go, or decide to do it on their own because they came up with something better or realized something wasn’t working. If you decide to read a long manga, this can very well end up being part of your reading experience, one you’ve to accept and that however brings, as a consequences, that things can end up being tossed in without foreshadowing or that a present development can clash with a past one… which cause troubles when we place the facts that form the past of the Todorokis family in a chronological order and try to study their impact on the characters and their psychological behavior and stumble upon contradictions or behaviors that make no sense or give the ‘wrong impression’ (as ‘not the impression Horikoshi wanted us to have of the characters) because… such past facts were inserted retroactively and so couldn’t influence certain scenes when they should have.

So, how I’m going to go with this meta?

So as to give a more cohesive talk about how the Todoroki’s history was I’ll still analyze the family’s history chronologically (where with chronologically I don’t refer to the printing order but to the order in which facts were supposed to happen according to the BNHA timeline) but I’ll go at it in this way.

I’ll divide their history in parts so yeah this will be a multipart meta. Each part will be analyzed in 4 sections.

The first section will be labeled ‘Canon information’ and will be a mere retelling of the canon info with transcriptions of the dialogues in it and images/panels/pages from the manga so as to refresh everyone what the canon says about a certain part and also because I’LL STICK TO CANON AS MUCH AS IT’S HUMANLY POSSIBLE, WHEN IT’S CONRADICTING I’LL POINT IT OUT AND, IF SOMETHING IS NOT CANON BUT A LOGICAL SPECULATION OF MINE, I’LL LET YOU KNOW.

The second section will be labeled ‘Cultural info’ and will be a quick listing of topics tied to Japanese culture with a minimal explanation. It doesn’t exist to give you a deep and comprehensive explanation, just a quick reference so, if you’re interested, you can document yourself about it on your own and better understand the story. Mind you, I’m not Japanese so I might miss something or not explain something clearly enough, which is why I recommend YOU’ll be the one to document yourself using the info I share merely as a crutch to make your research easier.

The third section will be labeled ‘Doylist commentary’. Doylist commentary takes the name from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the Real Life author of the Holmes stories. They consider the Todoroki history as a created object, and prefer exegetic explanations with particular attention to the author’s intentions. Doylist commentaries can include “The author changed his mind” or “The author forgot this” or “There was no time for inserting this” or “Here the author is just using/referencing a certain trope” or “The author is just applying the Anthropic Principle (for any given story, there exist basic elements that, no matter how improbable or impossible their occurrence, are required for the story itself to happen, or there would be no story) or the MST3K Mantra (some details in the story don’t need to make sense because they ultimately don’t matter), asking us to suspend our disbelief on how it wouldn’t work logically in the story” or “With this scene the author is trying to carry on this theme/message”. Please DO NOT view the Doylist commentary as a “let’s complain about the story” corner. As said before, things like the author changing his mind or deciding that something impossible can indeed happen or forgot he previously said a certain thing and now he’s saying the opposite are part of the creative process of a manga, but understanding why the author had something happen can be useful to have a better grasp of the story and not give certain scenes a meaning they weren’t intended to have. Of course I’m not Horikoshi nor I worked with him to make the manga so, in this section, I’ll often talk of what I’ll assume was Horikoshi’s purpose to add a certain scene or why a certain problem happened which means I might be wrong.

The forth section will be labeled ‘Watsonian commentary’. Watsonian commentary takes the name from Dr. John Watson, Holmes’ friend and supposed chronicler of his adventures in-universe. They explain the Todoroki history within the logic of the narrative. Watsonian explanations are things like “Character X was lying”, “This happened in a scene we didn’t see”, and “Character X did this because he was thinking that”. So, basically, when I’ll make a Watsonian comment instead I’ll focus on the characters, their lives, their psychology and the effect everything has on them.

With this said let’s start with the Todoroki family.

TODOROKI ENJI’S ORIGIN AND TEENAGER YEARS (Chap. 356 + Chap. 3-86-192-319, Team Up Mission 33, School Briefs I Epilogue and School Briefs III Dramatic Makeover!)

Canon information:

Chronologically speaking, the earliest bit of Todoroki history is in Chap. 356 and shows a middle school Enji standing under the rain looking at a disaster area while his father’s body is being carried away after the man died fighting a man in an attempt to save a girl, causing her too to die as well.

This scene is labeled by the narrator (a high school Enji) as ‘Enji’s origin’ and the proof he’ll never be a superhero.

We also then see Enji at U.A. choosing his Hero name, ‘Endeavor’ the narrator calling this choice the proof of Enji’s menial nature. Students in U.A. choose their Hero name on their first year of high school short after the sport festival so, while we can see that the Enji who chooses his Hero name is older than the one who watched his father die, although comparatively they should be close in age (from 3 to 1 year of difference).

Todoroki Enji (young) ‘Sara ni yowaku natta.’ 轟炎司「更に弱くなった。」 Todoroki Enji (young) “You became beyond weak.”

Todoroki Enji (young) ‘Tachiba to tsugunai to ayamachi to sekinin ga. Omae no seirai no yowasa o abaki dashi miru ni taenai guzu e to hikizuri oroshita. Chōjin ni wa narenainda yo Enji (read: omae) wa. 轟炎司「立場と償いと過ちと責任が。おまえの生来の弱さを曝き出し見るに堪えない愚図へと引きずり下ろした。超人にはなれないんだよ炎司（おまえ）は。」 Todoroki Enji (young) “Position, atonement, mistakes and responsibility. Your innate weakness was exposed and I can’t bear to see how you were dragged down into an indecisive person. Enji (read: you) can’t become a superhuman.”

Todoroki Enji (young) ‘Genten o omoi dase. Teki ga nandatta no ka o?’ 轟炎司「原点を思い出せ。敵が何だったのかを。」 Todoroki Enji (young) “Remember your origin. Who was the enemy?”

Todoroki Enji (young) ‘Akkan kara shōjo o sukuou to shi kekka shōjo moro tomo nikukai to ka shita chichi o’ 轟炎司「悪漢から少女を���おうとし結果少女もろとも肉塊と化した父を。」 Todoroki Enji (young) “Your father tried to save a girl from a scoundrel and, as a result, he and the girl were turned into a lump of meat.”

Todoroki Enji (young) ‘Shin no chōjin e no senbō to higami o.’ 轟炎司「真の超人への羨望と僻みを。」 Todoroki Enji (young) “Your envy and inferiority complex toward a true superhuman.”

Todoroki Enji (young) ‘“Doryoku (read: ‘ENDEAVOR’)” to nanoru hikutsu na shōne o.’ 轟炎司「〝努力〟（エンデヴァー）と名乗る卑屈な性根を。」 Todoroki Enji (young) “You called yourself ‘effort’ (read: ‘Endeavor’) due to your menial nature.”

Todoroki Enji (young) ‘Kojishite inakereba tamotenu teido no minikui kokoro o.’ 轟炎司「誇示していなければ保てぬ程度の醜い心を。」 Todoroki Enji (young) “Unless you’re putting on airs you can’t sustain your ugly heart.”

Todoroki Enji (young) ‘Sō. Omae wa ALL MIGHT ni mo DEKU ni mo narenai Enji (read: ore) wa itsumo jibun no yowasa to shika tatakatte nakatta kara, dakara umare kawarou nante kangaeruna.’ 轟炎司「そうおまえはオールマイトにもデクにもなれない炎司（おれ）はいつも自分の弱さとしか戦ってなかったから、だから 生まれ変わろうなんて考えるな。」 Todoroki Enji (young) “Yes. You can’t become All Might or Deku because Enji (read: I) was always fighting only against his (my) own weaknesses, so don’t think about being reborn.”

Todoroki Enji (young) ‘“Onore no yowasa (read: teki)” o noroi tsudzukero, yuiitsu sore dake ga omae o ikashite kita no dakara.’ 轟炎司「〝己の弱さ（てき）〟を呪い続けろ、唯一それだけがおまえを生かしてきたのだから。」 Todoroki Enji (young) “Keep cursing ‘your own weakness (read: the enemy)’, because that is the only thing that has kept you alive.” [Chap. 356]

Prior to this bit, the manga and other source mentioned how Enji had been an U.A. student from pretty early on, as Enji as always been planned to be tied to U.A. and in Horikoshi’s early plan later scrapped he was also meant to be a teacher at U.A. High. We’ve in fact a mention of him having been a U.A. student as early as in Chap. 3. It’s not said who does the narration, in the anime this bit is said by Midoriya so I’ve assumed this applies here too, though another recurring narrator is Present Mic. As he wasn’t introduced yet though, I think choosing Midoriya as a narrator made sense.

Midoriya Izuku ‘U.A. kōkō HERO-ka‼ Soko wa PRO ni hissu no shikaku shutoku o mokuteki to suru yōsei-kō! Zenkoku dōkachū, mottomo ninki de mottomo muzukashiku, sono bairitsu wa reinen 300 o koeru‼ Kokumin eiyoshō ni dashin sa reru mo kore o koji‼ “ALL MIGHT”‼ Jiken kaiketsu-sū shijō saita! Nenshō-kei HERO “ENDEAVOR”‼ BEST JEANIST 8 nen renzoku jushō‼”BEST JEANIST”! Idaina (read: GRATEFUL) HERO ni wa o U.A. sotsugyō ga zettai jōken nano da‼.’ 緑谷出久「雄英高校ヒーロー科‼そこはプロに必須の資格取得を目的とする養成校！全国同科中、最も人気で最も難しく、その倍率は例年３００を超える‼国民栄誉賞に打診されるもこれを固辞‼『オールマイト』‼事件解決数史上最多！燃焼系ヒーロー『エンデヴァー』‼ベストジーニスト8年連続受賞‼『ベストジーニスト』！偉大な（グレイトフル）ヒーローには雄英卒業が絶対条件なのだ‼」 Midoriya Izuku “U.A. High School’s Hero Course! It’s a training school where students acquire the qualifications necessary to become professionals! It’s the most popular and difficult course in the country, with the competition rate exceeding 300 every year! The one who was offered the People’s Honor Award but firmly refused! “All Might”! The person who solved the most cases in history! The burning hero “Endeavor”! Winner of the Best Jeanist award for 8 consecutive years! “Best Jeanist”! Graduating from U.A. is an absolute requirement for being a great (read: grateful) hero!” [Chap. 3]

Best Jeanist also remarks how Enji is an alumnus so he should help U.A.

Todoroki Enji ‘Nande ore ga U.A. no shirinugui o… kochira mo isogashī nodaga.’ 轟炎司「何で俺が雄英の尻拭いを…こちらも忙しいのだが。」 Todoroki Enji “Why should I have to clean up after U.A.? We’re busy here too.”

BEST JEANIST ‘MaA sō iwazu ni… OB deshou.’ ベストジーニスト「まァそう言わずに…OBでしょう。」 Best Jeanist “Well, don’t say that. You’re an alumnus, aren’t you?”

Tsukauchi Naomasa ‘U.A. kara wa ima HERO o yobenai. Taikyoku o mitekure ENDEAVOR. Konkai no jiken wa HERO shakai hōkai no kikkake ni mo nari eru sōryoku o motte kaiketsu ni ataraneba.’ 塚内直正「雄英からは今ヒーローを呼べない。大局を見てくれエンデヴァー。今回の事件はヒーロー社会崩壊の切っ掛けにもなり得る総力をもって解決にあたらねば。」 Tsukauchi Naomasa “We can’t call in any heroes from U.A. right now. Look at the big picture, Endeavor. This incident could be the start of the collapse of hero society, so we must use all our strength to solve it.” [Chap. 86]

Later we’re also told how he knows Recovery Girl by a long time due to this.

RECOVERY GIRL ‘OB no yoshimi de kite ageta yo. Soreni ima wa mō No.1 HERO da mono ne.’ リカバリーガール「OBのよしみで来てあげたよ。それに今はもうNo.1ヒーローだものね。」 Recovery Girl “I came for you since you were an alumnus. Besides, you’re also the No. 1 hero now.’ [Chap. 192]

Chap 319 also remarks how Enji is an U.A. alumnus…

Uraraka Ochako ‘ENDEAVOR-tte U.A. sotsu da yo ne............... Gōin ni ikou.’ 麗日お茶子「エンデヴァーって雄英卒だよね……………強引に行こう。」 Uraraka Ochako “Endeavor is a graduate of U.A., right?... Let’s go for it forcefully.” [Chap. 319]

… and the fact Nezu comments on his growth seems to imply he too, same as Recovery Girl, knew him from that time.

Todoroki Enji ‘………Soto wa kiken da chitsujo ga nai. Omae-tachi made──’ 轟炎司「………外は危険だ秩序が無い。おまえたちまで──」 Todoroki Enji “…It’s dangerous out there. There’s no order. Even you guys...”

Nezu ‘Otona ni natta ne… Todoroki-kun…!!’ 根津「大人になったね…轟くんくん…‼」 Nezu “You’ve grown up/matured... Todoroki-kun...!!” [Chap. 319]

The side material also tried to expand a bit on Enji’s past school life.

There is, for example, this bit in the spin off manga “Team Up Mission”:

Īda Tenya ‘Sorezore ga hirotta GOMI no sōryō o kiroku! Tadashi “kosei” shiyō-fuka! Onore no junsui na tairyoku nomi de shinkiroku o mezasu nōkin EVENT nanda! Chinamini rekidai No. 1 kiroku hoji-sha wa ENDEAVOR da.’ 飯田天哉「それぞれが拾ったゴミの総量を記録！ただし〝個性〟使用不可！己の純粹な体力のみで新記録を目指す脳筋イベントなんだ！ちなみに歴代No.1記録保持者はエンデヴァーだ。」 Īda Tenya “Each person records the total amount of trash they have picked up! However, they cannot use their “quirks”! It’s a muscle-brained event where they aim to set a new record using only their own physical strength! Incidentally, the all-time record holder is Endeavor.”

Todoroki Shōto ‘!’ 轟焦凍「! 」 Todoroki Shōto “!”

Midoriya Izuku ‘ENDEAVOR ga… ALL MIGHT no kiroku wa?’ 緑谷出久「エンデヴァーが…オールマイトの記禄は？」 Midoriya Izuku “It was Endeavor...what about All Might’s record?”

Īda Tenya ‘ALL MIGHT wa igainimo yoi kiroku ga nokotte inai. Ippanjin ni hanashikake rare GOMI hiroi dokorode wa nakatta sōda.’ 飯田天哉「オールマイトは意外にも良い記録が残っていない。一般人に話しかけられゴミ拾いどころではなかったそうだ。」 Īda Tenya “Surprisingly, All Might doesn’t have a good record. Apparently he was approached by members of the public and had no time to pick up trash.”

Midoriya Izuku ‘Tōji kara ninki-sha sugiru…!’ 緑谷出久「当時から人気者すぎる… ！」 Midoriya Izuku “He was so popular even back then!”

Todoroki Shōto ‘Oyaji ga…’ 轟焦凍「親父が…」 Todoroki Shōto “My father was…” [Mission 33]

And then these bits from “School Briefs” show first Enji and Recovery Girl interacting, confirming they know by a long time…

“Well, if it isn’t Endeavor. How long has it been?” It was U.A.’s school nurse, Youthful Heroine: Recovery Girl. Contrary to her title, the elderly healer walked with a syringe-shaped cane and had her hair tied up in a neat bun. “Recovery Girl! Good to see you,” said Endeavor, managing to mind his manners for someone he’d known nearly all his life. [“School Briefs I Epilogue”]

…and then Recovery Girl saying so to Shōto as well, also trying to tell him how his father was at school.

“It still hasn’t hit me that Endeavor’s boy is so grown up already.” “Huh…?” “I’ve been at U.A. a long time, you know? Known your father since he was a student here.” This mention of his father darkened Todoroki’s face, as if by reflex. “I was always treating him for scrapes, cuts and bruises back in those days. That boy put himself through the wringer, hoping to be the number one Hero someday.” Recovery Girl’s reminiscence triggered Todoroki’s memories from childhood and beyond-the sound of his father’s voice shouting at him. The voice always commanded the boy to succeed where his father had failed and grow into a Hero who could surpass All Might. Todoroki hated that voice with a passion. “Why, your father was so driven that, one time, in class…” “I’d rather not hear anything about that bastard… ma’am,” interrupted Todoroki. [“School Briefs III Dramatic Makeover!”]

...and ultimately deciding to let him know in a more veiled manner.

“All the boys and girls at U.A. tend to do their darnest. They always have. So be sure to give yourself credit where credit is due, now and then.” “Yes, ma’am.” Todoroki popped a gummy bear into his mouth. The chewy candy gave his tired body the small burst of sugar it needed. ‘Guess she’s saying that my bastard of a father did his best when he was here, too…?’ [“School Briefs III Dramatic Makeover!”]

Cultural info:

Oyakoko (親孝行 “filial piety”): An important Buddhist virtue of respecting and caring for one’s parents and that therefore requires the children ‘to be good’ to their parents, often through acts of great respect, kindness and support. It might sound nice but, although things are changing currently, in the past this meant doing what the parents wanted, including marrying who they were to pick up for you, provide them with grandchildren who would continue the family line, pursuing the career path they wanted (usually continuing the family business), fulfilling their ambitions, carry on  their grudges or even avenging them, plus taking care of them when they’re old, handling their funeral and taking care of them through Butsudan in which they would be enshrined.

Chōnan (長男 “first male son”): Again, things are changing but in the past the first male son was the one who would inherit everything and therefore the one on whom would fall most of the duties that came from filial piety, like taking over the family home, like continuing the family job, fulfilling his parents’ wishes and aspirations, marrying who his parents wanted, provide his parents with grandchildren, taking care of his aging parents and, later on, of their funeral rites and maintaining the Butsudan in which they would be enshrined. Nowadays there’s less pressure to do all this but expectations remain. The firstborn were to be educated more than his other siblings, often receiving special education that would help carry on his duties. The result was also lot of pressure was put on him, while lot less was placed on his siblings.

Butsuma (仏間 “room/space of the Butsudan”) and Butsudan (仏壇 “Buddhist altar”): The Butsuma is a room/space whose principal or exclusive function is containing a Butsudan, a shrine whose primary use is for paying respects to the Buddha, as well as to family members who have died and ancestors. In fact the Butsudan becomes the house/room of said deceased people. The fact we see what is likely Enji’s father’s photo in the Todoroki Butsuma implies he’s resting there and therefore, since Enji is taking care of that Butsudan, Enji should be the male firstborn. Also the Todorokis should have had a Butsudan and a Butsuma before Tōya’s death so, contrary to the fandom’s expectations, the Butsudan is clearly not in Tōya and Natsuo’s childhood room (what’s more, the room looks different from their own) but it always had its own room.

Doryoku (努力 “effort/endeavor”): In Japan there is a stronger belief in effort as opposed to innate ability. Effort is seen as necessary to fulfill a social obligation to family, peers, and community. From when they’re children Japanese people are forced to focus on their effort, seeing it as the cause of success. According to society, if a child does not succeed, they were not trying hard enough. This is unrelated to the child’s grades; children always need to put forth more effort. This gives you a better idea of what exactly Enji’s Hero name stand for, an acknowledgement he has no inborn talent like he thinks All Might has, that he’ll just compensate by putting more effort, that his effort will never be enough as he’ll continue to push himself.

Doylist commentary:

So… let’s start with which probably was Horikoshi’s aim as he added this bit about ‘Enji’s origin’.

All the main characters in BNHA have an origin story, be they Heroes or Villains. Some of them go so far as to have a chapter titled with their name and the word ‘origin’ (Midoriya, Shouto, Bakugō, Tenko & Tomura, All Might), sometimes going so far as to also name the volume in which that chapter appeared as such, some others have their own origin story but with a lot less fanfare (as in no chapter or volume named as such like, for example Kirishima, Jin, Himiko, Touya…).

It makes sense Horikoshi had wanted to give an ‘origin’ to Enji too, one that gives him more deep and that explains why he is the way he is.

The drama of Enji losing his father and having been helpless to act to stop it, which made him feel like he can never be a true Hero (remember how Midoriya instead is a TRUE Hero because he jumped into action despite being weak, timid and Quirkless?) isn’t a bad idea either.

What’s more, having Enji seems as if he’s about to give up then think at his origin and come back strong enough it seems he can take down All for One is undoubtedly a way to make the fight more interesting. The fight was stalling, then the Villains seem to have the upper hand then the Hero gets a boost in power and turn tables. It’s an old narrative trick but it always works.

Visually, Horikoshi uses the old trick of rain in place of tears which never gets old as far as I’m involved. What can I say, I like it, I like the way it expresses the pain of a character in a discreet way.

It also… kind of try to smooth again Enji’s position.

In his prototype  Enji was meant to be just a guy obsessed with respecting rules. In Shouto’s prototype he valued strength and married Rei to create a strong child but it seemed as if it was Rei the ‘bad guy’ as Shouto hated her and wanted Enji’s love. The final plan, the one we read, had him forcing Shouto to endure abusive training, Rei trying to protect Shouto and ending up being abused in turn, with Rei snapping, losing it and ending up in hospital and Shouto completely rejecting Enji.

He went from a guy who was just obsessed with rules to the BAD GUY of the Todoroki house.

Apparently though, Horikoshi was never fond of this evolution for a character he originally created with the purpose of him being cool, respectful to law, well liked by people and kind of a comical relief (he said Enji would stop at traffic lights even when chasing a Villain…) which is likely why Horikoshi ended up on placing him on an atonement path.

Giving him this ‘origin’ feels like one of the many attempts through the story to make Enji more sympathetic, this time by giving him a sad backstory as a motive for why he’s the way he is, instead than just his jealousy and this is totally fair. There’s nothing wrong into wanting to give a character more deep by giving him a sad backstory. People who do bad things don’t necessarily have to be two dimensional bad guys, especially if you want to put them on an atonement path.

However there are problems with this new bit.

For start… the fact that Enji’s ‘origin’ wasn’t foreshadowed at all (just think at how we could have seen previously Enji’s father’s photo in the Butsudan room, and instead it’s shown only now, or how Enji’s father could have gotten mentioned, even with a random ‘he lost his father when he was young, so he doesn’t know how to be a father’) seems to imply Horikoshi came up with this bit way too late in the story, possibly when the final war started. I mean, All Might gets an ‘origin’ chapter even much later (chap. 398), but it was teased and foreshadowed long ago. There’s nothing of the sort for this extra bit of story. Even in the many bits mentioning how Enji attended to U.A. there’s no hint of such revelation, I don’t know, by having someone say he had to go to a part time job to pay for his living expense/scholarship or comment on how his teachers were the only adult figures he had in his life or that he didn’t have his father’s support or that he was trying so hard for his father also. Although this revelation is supposed to be important it comes out of nowhere, way too late in the manga for the story to build up upon it.

Second… the readers were persuaded they already knew Enji’s ‘origin’, that he became the way he was when he realized he couldn’t surpass All Might despite his attempts in terms of strength. We had plenty of scenes telling us this. Yes, it can be Horikoshi wanted to surprise us… but when the surprise comes out so late and in such a rushed manner that not even the anime felt like investing in this (in the anime the scene is not expanded but exactly as it is in the manga and they even cut the bit hinting Enji’s father photo is in the Butsuma) readers find hard to invest in it as well. This is a story with 430 chapters, chap 356 is way too late to have a revelation on one of the main characters’ ‘origins’, especially when, until chap 356, there was already an origin story for Enji of some sort, which was the one that chap. 31-93-165-188 pushed forward.

Third, as I said, it feels rushed because Enji’s father’s death takes a grand total of three panels for half a page. There is no other ‘origin’ story that takes so little, especially if we compare it to all the time Horikoshi spent talking about/showing his other ‘origin’ story, the one of Enji being forced to accept he couldn’t surpass All Might. Horikoshi wanted the focus to be on Enji, so has no real interest in explaining what exactly happened with Enji’s father, with the result it creates more questions than answers which end up shifting the attention away from Enji himself as people try to figure out what happened that day. So, while the message seems to be that Enji, was indecisive (of if you like more how Touya put it, a coward) and, like Kirishima, came to believe he wasn’t Hero material because he didn’t sprint to action like All Might and Midoriya would have done and, differently from Kirishima, didn’t manage to cope with the revelation in the right way… well, this is just my speculation. It’s unclear if this is really his problem, and the lack of clarity makes the scene even weaker.

Forth, it’s a pity Enji’s father’s death scene isn’t connected to All Might, since All Might should have returned in Japan around the time Enji’s father died and the incident in which Enji’s father died could have also been the one in which All Might for the first time saved so many people. It would have added to the Enji-All Might’s feud, with Enji failing to save his father and Enji’s father failing to save the girl but All Might succeeding into saving everyone else except his father. Mind you, it wasn’t mandatory but since the two incidents happen close in time, if we’ve been done they were one and the same this incident might have felt less tossed in and more foreshadowed. Not much but… a bit more. Instead it wasn’t.

Fifth, yes, Enji has hesitated and had been indecisive other times and they all regarded his family… but each time the circumstances were so different it’s hard to see a pattern, it seems more like a coincidence.

So in the end Enji’s ‘origin’ feels like something Horikoshi didn’t really plan in advance, and that merely used as a device to give Enji a boost of power, to make him stand again after receiving a serious hit and fight even harder. Since it feels like it’s something ‘forced’ into the story at the last minute, it’s emotional impact is lessened than it should have been.

People were delighted when Dabi turned out to be Touya and felt satisfied when the guy who carried Tenko back home turned out to have been All for One because both facts were foreshadowed. Even Geten being a Himura or Touya’s Quirk being more than just a fire Quirk had some foreshadowing but this came out of nowhere and what’s worse, it went nowhere.

There’s no consequence for this reveal beyond the power up Enji receives, the strength he finds inside himself, when he thinks at all this. This story is not touched upon again, and, while I compared it to Kirishima’s backstory, not only Kirishima’s backstory got more deep and more time to be developed, but it even came back late in the story, when he and Ashido faced Machia.

Enji instead won’t think at his father ever again, Horikoshi not using it for any other part of the story to the point that it becomes the equivalent of giving to a beaten Saiyan a Senzu beam (for who’s unfamiliar with “Dragon Ball” senzu bean if eaten fully healed people and when Saiyan healed they became magically stronger). It’s a peep talk his younger self gave him to make him stand up and that’s all.

It’s a pity because the idea was actually instead really good, not only if explored it could become more moving but it could fit very well with Enji’s characterization and the whole theme of fatherhood opposed to focusing on heroism… of trauma that pushed him to do the wrong choices like it did for his son, of accepting he chased after the wrong thing, strength opposed to wish to help (which is what moved All Might and Midoriya) but no, it just will end up being shelved a moment after being used. It won’t come up again so that it feels more like one of those little bits of info Horikoshi put in his profiles than a real scene of the story.

On a special note let’s look at two sentences.

The first is this one:

Todoroki Enji (young) ‘Sara ni yowaku natta.’ 轟炎司「更に弱くなった。」 Todoroki Enji (young) “You became beyond weak.” [Chap. 356]

…which seems to be chosen purposely to mockingly remind Enji (and us) of…

PRESENT MIC ‘Sara ni mukō e! “Plus Ultra”!!’ プレゼント・マイク「更に向こうへ! 〝Plus Ultra〟‼」 Present Mic “Further beyond! ‘Plus Ultra’!!” [Chap. 3]

This sentence is said by Present Mic in Chap. 3 and it’s U.A. high school motto and you might remember hearing it at the end of each preview of the anime episodes.

The other sentence is the one about young Enji asking to his older self who was the enemy.

Todoroki Enji (young) ‘Genten o omoi dase. Teki ga nandatta no ka o?’ 轟炎司「原点を思い出せ。敵が何だったのかを。」 Todoroki Enji (young) “Remember your origin. Who was the enemy?” [Chap. 356]

It’s hard to catch it in the English version but in the Japanese version “Villain” is written with the kanji ‘teki’ (敵) which means “enemy” but is given the reading “VILLAIN” (ヴィラン), while the sentence might be using the word “enemy” merely because it fits to drive home the concept, it can also be it’s implying Enji’s real enemy aren’t Villains but his own weakness.

Also teenager Enji talks of a ‘Shin no chōjin’ (真の超人 “true superhuman”). ‘Chōjin’ is how the name of the DC Comics Hero Superman is translated and it’s likely used it to show a parallel between All Might and Superman… however, ironically, not much after Enji himself will use a Superman’s move. In fact Superman can project beams of heat from his eyes which are hot enough to melt steel and Enji will do just the same in his fight with All for One.

What’s more, in Japanese this word sounds tied to ‘Chōjō’ (超常 “supernatural”). Where supernatural comes into play in the story? This word appears right from Chap. 1, although the English manga translated it as “exceptional” and later decided to translate it as just Quirk (even though in Japanese when they want to say “Quirk” they use ‘kosei’ (個性) or ‘Inō’ (異能 “Meta Ability” lit. “Extraordinary Ability”).

It’s a series of interesting nice bits that get lost in translation but are worth mentioning.

There’s not much to say on the tiny bit that referenced how Enji had been a U.A. student as they’re not much more than that, tiny bit that reference how Enji had been a U.A. student. They’re many but through the manga, they’re not really attempt at flashing Enji out beyond the fact he knew Recovery Girl and Nezu from back then.

It kind of clashes with how, in Enji’s ‘origin’, Horikoshi decided to depict him as an U.A. student as if that had been important but… we hardly learn something about his time there, his origin happening PRIOR to it. It’s not a sin it’s just… a pity… especially because it also clashes with how Class A is represented as close even after 8 years while neither All Might nor Enji seem to have friends, or at least ex-classmates, from their time at U.A. among the other Pro. Sure, as said before it wasn’t super important for the narrative but it still feels weird (especially in All Might’s case as he was a social person) how no one of their classmates is, at least, in the business. Sure, Horikoshi might have thought he had ENOUGH characters tied with U.A. so it makes sense he didn’t want to give them classmates, especially since he likely didn’t know he would late add that bit o

The only two which made an attempt to flesh him out more are the bit from “Team-up” which remarks how he put hard effort in doing things to the point he surpassed All Might and the bit in “School Briefs” in which Recovery Girl wants to tell Shouto how hard Enji used to work as a student. That second bit again can be seen as again an attempt at presenting him in a more sympathetic light but, especially for western readers, it doesn’t work so well as, in the narration, it comes in contraposition with how he mistreated Shouto when training him. It would have worked much better if Recovery Girl had just thought at all that by herself. I don’t really want to dig any further in this because I’ll talk about Shouto’s training later, when it’ll be time for it, so for now let’s leave it at this.

Watsonian commentary:

The scene of Enji’s father’s death is more like a flash so we don’t really know the details, but we can still extrapolate something out of it.

For start Enji’s age. He’s likely at middle school when his father dies as what he’s wearing seems a summer school uniform, but it’s different from U.A. school uniform. Enji seems as tall as an adult, considering how tall he’ll become it’s possible he was already that tall in middle school, but it would be too much of a stretch to assume he was that tall in Elementary school.

We aren’t told if the guy threatening the girl is a Villain, which is interesting as well as the text content itself with calling it a ‘akkan’ (悪漢) literally a “bad/evil man” (alternatively you can translate it as “thug, rascal, scoundrel”).

In BNHA a Villain (敵 （ヴィラン） ‘teki (read: VILLAIN)’) is “someone who uses his Quirk to commit crimes”.

I’ve hard time thinking we’re prior to the time in which people started using the term “Villain”, so all I can assume is that the guy wasn’t using his Quirk to commit that crime, hence he couldn’t be labeled as such.

We aren’t told if Enji’s father was a Hero or someone who just decided to act to protect a little girl, just that instead that saving her he ended up causing his own dead along with hers. Since the place is a disaster area and kids inherit their parents’ Quirk, it is possible Enji’s father too had a fire Quirk and, attempting to use it, either in attack or self defense caused an explosion that killed everyone, included the girl he wanted to save.

We see Enji witnessing as his father’s corpse is taken away. We don’t know if he’s standing there because he froze when he should have instead acted and helped/saved his father and/or the girl or if he just came there too late, but the message we can extrapolate is he feels his ‘origin’ is one of a person who can’t be a Hero because he had failed to jump in action to save people (and especially his father) because he’s been indecisive and this had lead him to stalling instead than saving.

Possibly it wasn’t just fear, possibly he let himself be caught up by other thoughts, for example that if he were to use his Quirk he would commit a crime (it’s unknown if the whole thing was inspired by Horikoshi but in “Vigilantes” Enji expresses views which strongly disapprove of Vigilantism… this might be a consequence of what happened to his father if he acted even if he weren’t a Hero… or it could have been inside him already and might have caused him to hesitate) or maybe it was just his father who told him to wait there and he didn’t want to disobey.

Of maybe it was cowardice, Touya will blame him of being a coward and he won’t deny it, back then he was afraid to act , to go against a scoundrel and just stalled.

Or, as I said before, weakness was the problem. His father was weak so he failed to save himself and the little girl. Enji knew he was too weak to defeat the Villain so he didn’t act because he was weak, and therefore he failed to save his father and the little girl.

We don’t know.

Now this little scene can have plenty of consequences for Enji (which, unluckily, the story never explored).

Middle school is a time in which children are in a delicate age.

Teenagers start to search for a sense of self and personal identity, through an intense exploration of personal values, beliefs, and goals. Having his father die in such way under his eyes or reaching the place too late, could have been a very formative moment for him, one that might have radically changed his perception of himself, sadly not in a positive way.

If Enji’s father was a Hero, his dying while doing his duty like Kōta’s parents, might have further pushed on Enji the burden to become a Hero (inheriting his father’s mantle the way Īda Tensei first and Īda Tenya after did as Japanese society kind of expects the firstborn to inherit his father’s job), the need to be strong (otherwise he’ll die), the sense of inadequacy, as his father died as a Hero while Enji either watched or got there too late.

If Enji’s father wasn’t a Hero the fact he got involved, couldn’t save the girl (the text implied he caused her death) and stop the devastation of the area (or caused it directly) would reflect negatively on Enji.

Even though he’s absolutely not responsible for his father’s actions using Quirk if one isn’t a Hero is forbidden (we saw how they should have punished Shōto, Midoriya and Īda because they saved Native from the Hero killer, wounding him) and, what’s worse it didn’t end well (think at how Tobita and his family ended up bullied and ostracized for Tobita’s failed attempt to help someone who didn’t even die!) so Enji might have had to live with the pressure of all this and might have felt the need to become a Hero to wash away the shame of his father having tried and failed to be a Vigilante.

Regardless of Enji’s father having been a Hero or not, Enji doesn’t feel like a natural born Hero but still wants to be a Hero and tries to compensate with hard work.

As said in the cultural corner, society taught him to focus on effort, basically telling him if he were to put enough effort, he would succeed even though he lacks natural talent. Therefore Enji does his best to become the strongest while at the same time being plagued by feelings of not being good enough, which he tries to hide by acting cold and putting up on air.

Enji becomes a façade, he talks moves and act to give a certain impression of himself that Enji doesn’t feel match with the reality, he puts on airs, he holds himself together by keeping distance and presenting this fake image of him being confident, powerful, he feeds a lie, which is a very stressing thing to do.

All Might’s existence, or better the existence of someone who’s a natural born Hero and doesn’t even have to put effort in it, rubs salt on his wounds.

I want to dig into the presentation of the scene a bit as we discover what happened with Enji’s father in a discussion between adult Enji and teenager Enji, an Enji who wear U.A. high school uniform. Many other characters are shown also as their younger selves, but in that case is teenagers shown as children. In this case it’s a teen, as if Enji still have inside his teenager self, which is full of hate for him and can’t grow out of it.

The scene ends with adult Enji metaphorically murdering teenager Enji in a way that’s meant to represent how he won’t let himself be crushed by his own weakness… overcoming it through murderous rage. Teenager Enji encourage him to curse his own weakness, basically fuels his rage… which feels more like the representation of unhealthy coping mechanisms. Enji silences his own teenager self by murdering him and doesn’t overcome his weakness and leave it behind but just… fight it back with rage. But I’m probably running ahead this was meant to be about teenager Enji.

There’s also to wonder how his father’s death affected him practically.

Enji is the one who takes care of the Butsudan in which his father is enshrined. It makes him his firstborn. Was his mother still alive? Did she provide to Enji? Did Enji had to start a part time job to provide his living expenses? Did U.A. allow  it since many high school in Japan don’t allow it, and U.A. has its own internship program but previously it was the norm to start it on the second year? Or did his father have a life insurance (I’ve heard they’re pretty common in Japan) which allowed Enji (and his mother) to survive until Enji became a Pro? Or did someone else from the family helped him? We don’t know but it’s interesting to wonder.

All this could have contributed in how Enji as a father is lacking… but we’ll discuss about his fatherhood later.

Even in this Watsonian corner there’s not much to say about the bits referring to Enji at U.A. if not that they confirm even back then he put endless effort in training. He focused, he did all he could. Maybe he even deluded he could surpass All Might because he is the one who holds the record for collecting the most trash. Still, there’s something that’s worth wondering.

Neither All Might nor Enji are shown as having developed longstanding friendships in their school years which starkly contrast with how Class A was instead a close group even after 8 years.

There’s to wonder if back then they just weren’t educated in a way that encouraged friendship and teamwork.

That’s all for this part. Please stay tuned for the next!

[cog5]

An Audience with The King

I don’t even talk about kings in this post, but the North Keep has been added to my mega-dungeon, and there’s a throne room in there. That’s nine out of 12 locations, just three more areas to go and all my #dungeon23 work will be compiled into a single document. Feeling good about things, just need to keep up this pace.

The North Keep is a central location, where some very heavy encounters can intersect. Let’s dig in.

On the west side of the area, we have a pool of amphibious parasites who use human hosts as incubators to metamorphose into their final form. When I first wrote the draft for this encounter last year, I felt like it was one of my best, so I was really happy to return to it again. An “Alien” trope in a lot of ways, for sure, but I was digging my spin on it. 

The atmosphere of the bathhouse area is creepy in both the map image and the writing. It was nice to lean into some classic horror elements, which I have not really used in the mega-dungeon so far. At least not to this degree.

I think this work over the past year (and then some) has made me really think about pacing and encounter variety. There are definitely some recurring themes and encounters in my mega-dungeon. And in the past, with smaller dungeons/adventures, I tended to focus on asking myself if the themes and encounters were cohesive, if they felt like they belonged together. 

But now I’m thinking, does making things cohesive also risk making them boring? Or predictable? Is there enough variety in the themes and encounters to keep things interesting for the players? 

Even just editing this bathhouse/parasite encounter has made me really appreciate the “spike” that can occur here, where something truly different can happen. I’m thinking players will enjoy that, too. Something I’m going to be thinking about the next time I write, for sure. Structured, cohesive themes, and whether or not I’m building in opportunities to break out of that structure when needed. 

Ok, so that’s the west side. On to the east side, the dining hall. I’ve had this idea in the back of my mind for a while, for a “wizard party” encounter. In most adventures, players usually deal with one main antagonist. “Evil Wizard” is a classic, of course. But what if, unbeknownst to the players, that the evil wizard happened to be throwing a dinner party with all their evil wizard friends? The players have been expecting to find one evil wizard, but now they’ve run into four, each with different personalities and abilities. And they’re not going to take too kindly to the interruption. That’s the premise of the east dining hall encounter. I’ve mixed it up with six arcane egomaniacs to add to your guest list.

There’s a lot more in the North Keep, the page count is higher than any other area so far. There’s a big boss battle that opens up access to the next floor, a vault full of treasure (basically a mini-dungeon on its own), and a big ol’ chunk of background for the setting, that explains how things got to this point (if you’re into that kind of thing). It’s nice to get all of this out of my head and onto a page, finally. The first draft was almost like creating 365 dots. Now I’ve had a chance to connect a lot of those dots.

---

What Have I Been Reading?

The Choir By Mobile Hut (Evlyn Moreau, Lett Morrison, Casey Jones, Roxanne B.)

Picked this up at the beginning of the month. I’ve been a fan of Evlyn Moreau’s work for a long time and she always manages to work with an amazing crew of collaborators. This is a short,  solid, adventure for Mörk Borg with a touch of investigation and a unique “spooky house” to punctuate the session. Lots of little twists and turns, and a good cast of NPCs with clear connections for the players to bump into.

A clever highlight for me was an encounter mechanic that states: After an encounter, the player character who was the most passive receives a Blood Forest Vision. And then there is a table of unique visions to roll on.

Really loved this, beyond the fact that the visions give the players a glimpse into what’s coming their way, it also gives a more laid back player a special moment that they can play out however they want.

I definitely recommend this one if you’re looking for a short adventure. Even if you don’t use it for Mörk Borg, I’m sure it could be easily adapted.

[eisoj5]

I haven’t posted a whole lot here about this project, but I finally wore it to Celebration on Saturday and have various pictures so it’s time!!

Leia’s Bespin dress has always been my favorite, probably because the colors are in line with a palette I like. I decided a while back that I wanted to make a hanfu version of it, inspired by cationdesigns’ hanfu Ariel. The costume seemed like it would translate especially well to Song dynasty hanfu because it’s relatively simple: tunic, pants, and cape, which I (currently) have done as moxiong (tank top), pants, and layered beizi (jackets). I also wanted to lean into the Chinese cloud design because Cloud City :D

Wanting to do Bespin Leia meant deciding if I wanted to try all the embroidery, which is why I worked on other random projects last summer to see if I really could dig in and learn how. I started actually embroidering my Spoonflower printed fabric for the costume in October 2022, and finished the fourth panel of motifs by the first week of March 2023. (There were some delays due to to other projects, haha.) In February or so I worked on drafting and tweaking the patterns for the beizi and moxiong from a hanfu pattern making book available on Amazon, so that in March I could hopefully knock everything out in a couple of weekends and be done in time for SWCE.

Figuring out what to do about the embroidered fabric was the hardest part. I talked to Ronnie at length about it as well as cosplay friends, and ultimately went with what you see here. I wound up taking the entire piece of fabric and my pattern pieces to the library so that I could trace directly onto it and decide placement. Actually cutting into embroidery that I’d worked on for months was surprisingly not as stressful as I anticipated, largely because I’d spent so long tracing the pattern on that I just had to trust myself that I’d done it correctly and just get the rotary cutter out.

A few more notes about the make:

patterns: self-drafted everything except for the pants, which are Winslow Culottes from Helen’s Closet

white embroidered fabric is from general_leah on Spoonflower

red chiffon (with auspicious cloud print) beizi underlayer, earrings, pendant, hair stick, and trim for belt are all from Etsy

red silk noil for moxiong and pants is from Fancy Tiger Crafts

red chiffon pibo scarf is a table runner from Amazon XD

purse is from New Moon Dance

shoes were from the thrift store with my insoles stuck in them so I could survive a con in flats -- which actually WORKED! (I also wore socks.)

[erose-this-name]

(explodes you with my mind repeatedly until you say more about your story)

*dies*

Here is a very early draft of the world map, In the final version it should have better labeling, more realistic wear and tear as if it's a real map, and latitude and longitude lines and a compass star. [I need to learn about cartography {i've already spent weeks working on it, send help}]).

My story is post-apocalyptic set looooong after the IRL current climate change disaster and sea level rise (which people in the future call the 'Deluge', hence the series' name "The Diluvian War".) (some other non-climate calamities also happened)

Please ask questions about this, I could talk for hours about all the details and reasoning behind this map! yeah it's pretty cool, I guess

Fun Fact: Florida is gone. No more Fl*ridians.

FUN FACT: This map is based on projections of what earth would look like if all the ice in the world melted, which is by 70 meters at the most. But I thought that didn't look grimdark enough, so I worked out what it would look like if it rose by 80 meters instead.

(assuming the absolute worst case scenario plus massive erosion and thermal expansion and a slowed water cycle due to less biological sequestering and a few comet impacts or something, I dunno.)

I did take more than a few liberties, though. Like, realistically you wouldn't see the complete loss of the British lowlands with just 80 meters, but I thought it was really fucking funny.

England is gone. No more England.

Florida would totally fucking sink like Atlantis, that's 100% gonna happen in the near future, it's very low-lying.

Scandinavia isn't likely to become an island without a lot of erosion, and the Finns and Karelia digging the great "Suksi Vittuun Venäjä" canal system.

Fun Fact: The funny part is, after making the first version of this map, I decided the story should be set ~400,000 years in the future. (so I could have more room for speculative biology and evolution to happen).

Some time after that, I learned ice ages happen every 100,000 years, meaning there has been at least three ice ages.

So, canonically, it's completely a coincidence that the Earth just happens to look like it did in the 22nd-23rd century again. Sea levels have risen and fallen numerous times since the Deluge. *shrugs*

I did not bother including continental drift, as in that time it'd only be like 6 kilometers. Which is nothing on the scale of a global map. In some regions, that's considerably less than erosion and sea level rise.

400,000 years is also more than long enough for most radioactive fallout and nuclear waste to no longer be dangerous (mostly). Unfortunately, 400,000 years is also long enough for people to reinvent nuclear bombs and reactors multiple times, and there's still a lot of fallout from that.

There are more than a few perfectly circular lakes in this world, where the fish are all just a little bit wrong. These are sacred places, where fishing and swimming is punishable by death, as they belong to the mysterious wrathful god of the Atomic Cult. The peoples of these cursed lands are often born with the blessing of melanism, renowned for their ability to survive the Trial of Honor in the Forests of Black Thorns.

[roselightfairy]

8, 10 and 19 for the fic writer asks!

Oh thank you for asking! From this list of questions:

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

Whenever I've "had" to write sequels for fics, it has been entirely because I've felt internally compelled to continue the story! Which is to say that a lot of my fics, even those that were supposed to be one-offs, already have sequels! But I do have a few fics that I've long wanted to write sequels for, but the must just hasn't moved me in that direction.

Love in a Time of Politics: I loved exploring this soft no-war AU so much, and these gentler, peaceful versions of the characters and their families. I've tried a couple of times to start an epistolary sequel to this one that is Legolas and Gimli getting to know each other better, working out a betrothal, etc., but it just hasn't had the real juice to get started (and epistolary is hard for me to write). But I would love to do it someday!

Full Moon (and by extension, Words Unspoken). Words Unspoken was actually supposed to be a one-off, and then Full Moon was already the sequel-prequel that begged to be written - but I left off the ending of the fic with a bit of a tantalizing sequel hook, and one day I'd love to write it!

Muse: Oh, the sequel to Muse is the white whale I'll never really accomplish. The premise of this story is so wild and out-there that I really wanted to try writing about Legolas from LOTR learning how to adjust to a modern life, but it got angsty really fast in my head and it also just didn't quite come together. HOWEVER! Artist @theycallme-ook did make an adorable comic series follow-up that I'm digging back into and kicking my feet wildly about, that you should absolutely check out!

10. what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

This is hard to say! I've had stories I've picked up in stops and starts, and I don't know how complete a draft needs to be to fit this bill, but probably the two most notable stories for this are The Better Part of Valor and Haven. The very first scene of Better Part was actually one of the first pieces of LOTR fanfic I wrote, back before I was publishing - and it sat for four years. I assumed it was unfinished forever, but I kept wishing I'd get the right click to pull it back out and finish it, and finally that came along in the summer of 2021! Haven, similarly, was a story I wrote the first scene of back in the summer of 2022, and then finally got myself together to finish two years later after a lot of fandom journeying.

It's funny, because I'm running @goodintentionswipfest right now and encouraging people to post unfinished drafts, but at the same time . . . sometimes you really do come back to those stories!

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

You know, I'm actually not sure about this one! I don't tend to do as many research deep-dives as I know some people out there do (and definitely feel a little guilty about it). I've researched some strange things from time to time, but I'll just go with a mention that my ongoing splinter sect AU has been so inspired by my graduate work in cultural studies that it now has its own accompanying "inspired by" bibliography. It's not exactly a list of references, more just theorists and work that has inspired me spiritually, but I think it's probably the most research-intensive thing I've done. Also I read Pedagogy of the Oppressed recently for the sake of inspiration for something else I'm trying to work on within that universe (but also I should have read the book long ago), so I guess that does count as research!

Thank you so much for asking these! I had a ton of fun answering them. <3 I am happy to continue answering if others feel inspired to ask from the list!

[mangopit]

20 Writer Questions

ty @littlefirefox for the tag!! nice seeing the other folks you tagged too, fandom runs deep fr haha <3

1. Total number of AO3 works?

34! i haven't uploaded in so long ouurgh

2. Total AO3 word count?

103,336 :o

3. Fandoms I’ve written in?

oh boy, tons. and im too shy to talk abt a lot of them on my main blog lol, but throughout my life i've written for a lot of youtubers, bbc sherlock, rotbtd, atla, tlok, american idol, some disney shows, an anime, live streamers, musicians...

4. Top 5 Fics by Kudos

dhjdjhs again im too shy to list em directly, they're all rpf >:'D # of kudos: 519, 377, 341, 314, 305

5. Do I️ respond to Comments?

yes, i try to reply to all of them! tho i need to look at my inbox and check that i haven't missed any recent ones :')

6. What has the angstiest ending?

hmmMm on ao3 i have a drabble that ends in perceived unrequited love but i think my actual angstiest published story ends with 2 former best friends finally choosing to part ways. offline, i have stories that end in major character death 😬

7. What has the happiest ending?

oh! a delightful question! i think the one where the soulmates figure their shit out and finally confess their feelings for each other feels like the most triumphant ending that i can remember writing :)

8. Have I️ received hate?

not for my writing. i've received unwarranted constructive criticism before tho.

9. Do I️ write smut? And what kind?

yes sometimes but i've never posted it online 👁👁 and idk "what kind" means... gay i guess???? loll

10. Do I️ write crossovers?

yes! i don't think i've posted anything online but rise of the brave tangled dragons is one of my longest loves.

11. Have I️ ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of 😳

12. Have I️ ever had a fic translated?

no but i would be honored if anyone offered! :')

13. Have I️ ever co-written a fic?

i've initiated "finish the fic"s before, but i've never co-written a fic in the traditional sense.

14. What is my all-time favorite ship?

OH hmmm idk if i have one. maybe sh****** just bc of how long and intense my obsession was for it lol

15. A WIP I️’ll never finish?

i have a bbc sherlock fic that was well-received but i just can't imagine finishing it bc my writing has changed so much, i never had a direction for the story, and i don't really like how i wrote the characters.

16. Writing Strengths?

i'm good at eavesdropping on imaginary conversations between people who exist solely in my head so i think im good at whipping out dialogue, lol. i also pride myself on writing realistic, complex emotions and digging into the deeper, more hidden thoughts of characters.

17. Writing Weaknesses?

i think i get so excited about writing my favorite bits i have planned that i rush the pacing of my stories or i force plotpoints that don't make too much sense and can probably be cut. i've been trying to combat that by indulging in the first draft—letting myself write all the exciting, wild ideas i have first before revising and fine-tuning the story to my standards!

18. Do I️ like foreign language dialogue?

yes? no opinion? i don't think i understand this question.

19. First Fandom I️ wrote for?

i think it was american idol >:)

20. Favorite fic Ive written?

wahhh like lynn i find it super hard to choose bc my writing is such a reflection of my interests and general mindset at the time! plus i still love my most busted writing bc i have such a warm appreciation for who i was and how i've improved. buuuuut for whatever reason i'm very proud of this one friends to lovers fic on my ao3 that's set during the wintertime~ i think i was able to get the pacing just right, emotionally and plotwise, and everything just makes sense, and the ending is so satisfying. it's a very solid fic for when i wrote it, and i am very happy to write a simply solid fic :)

thanks again lynn for the tag!! tagging: @farklelucas @26velociraptors if you want + any other ficwriters who would like to do this! (lol gretchen i can't even remember if you post on ao3 ermm)

[silverstreams]

Chelltastic here! I am slowly making my way through TLG! I saw your post and I thought I’d talk to you about it!

I’m on Chapter 13 now. I’ve seen a few spoilers through art but it only makes me curious as to how we get from where we are now to there.

I’m loving the way that you are writing for everyone so much. This is actually the first ChellDOS fic I’ve ever read and I’m really digging it.

What is your favorite part of writing TLG? And do you have a writing process that you follow each time you write?

Hi @chelltastic!

Thanks for sharing what you think of it so far!! I am glad that you are enjoying it.

Ooh, that is a tough question though. My favorite part of writing it probably being able to build up the strong connections between Chell and GLaDOS, to write those moments where they finally start to understand one another, and to make those moments meaningful. (Keeping this vague because you are only on ch 13!) I have spent so long trying to build a foundation for them to stand on where they can finally start to see each other for who they are, a foundation where they could actually begin to build a positive relationship. Being able to actually get to those moments has been so fulfilling for me. 

For a writing process, I do have one that has been working for me for TLG! I will have one chapter in the draft/revision stage, but before I revise & post that chapter, I like to have the rough draft complete of the following chapter, and then a zero draft (think detailed outline, like a play-by-play script) for the chapter after that. So I'm frequently hopping between like three chapters or more at any given time, but it's nice because I can jump between them depending on what I feel like working on at any given time. If I feel like revising, I can work on the next chapter, but if I don't (rewrites can be really tiring haha) then I can work on laying out a future chapter in detail. It's not a strict rule, but I like it.

[comfortlesshurt]

Saw that post about fic-writing-related questions to ask you and so:

1. What's the word that appears most in your current draft?

2. What's your preferred writing font?

3. Where do you get your inspiration? (And is it possible to learn this power?)

4. What's your favourite place to write?

5. Talk about your writing and editing process

6. What's the most interesting topic you've researched for a fic?

7. How do you recharge when you're not feeling creative?

8. Besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

omg yes, thank you!

I just started something last night but it's only 40 words, so I'm gonna jump over to a more substantial WIP to get a better answer for this one. For chapter 6 of the bigger fic I'm working on, the top three are: Keith, Shiro, and time. (Or if you want to exclude names, time, when, and enough!)

I picked Times New Roman 12pt when I was like... 12, and I never abandoned it.

It jumps around! Over the past year, it's honestly mostly been from reading others' fics! (Which is also why I've gotten more fanatic about using the "Inspired By" feature on AO3 recently, because I fully think it's okay to take inspiration from others, but the other person deserves a little boost in reads too!) In the past, I've pretty exclusively relied on other people giving me prompts, but I had to figure out something else when I desperately wanted to write and there was no outside interest.

This one's probably boring, but I can't stand writing on my phone or a laptop, so I exclusively write at my desktop in my living room.

For writing: 1) Get idea (the hardest part). 2) If it's multi-chapter and I know that from the start, I'm not allowed to write anything until there's a basic outline jotted down. 3) The actual writing: Active writing doc on one monitor, outline on the other (if it's a multi-chapter work where I need to keep track of how the current part interacts with other parts), and Spotify in the background! For editing: I'm awful about it. I'm one of those people who edits as I write even though it frustrates me every time. BUT in exchange, the final editing is a lot easier because I've already edited it during every drafting session. I try to do the editing at the start because then it doubles as me reminding myself what I've already written and might give me ideas for what I want to write in the rest of this session. The final editing session after the writing is done is usually just me googling synonyms for the words I think I overused!

Oh man, I'm sure I'm blanking on something more interesting from further in the past, but a recent one has been the actual timeline for Voltron. Like, I always knew it was set in the future, but I never thought about exactly when since the show seems to be intentionally vague, and I had to dig into fan theories to get a good answer to that. Usually if I need to research something, I'll stick to an overview because I will go overboard if I give my brain half a chance, and a brief overview is usually enough to avoid writing anything completely wrong and immersion-ruining.

Ooh, I switch hobbies for a bit! I used to think you can't really call it a hobby if you don't do it almost every day, but that's a silly idea and I've given it up. If I don't feel like writing, I don't write. Usually, I'll get really into reading again during those times, but I might also go back to playing the guitar or drawing. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it's fun and it's not writing. I just do that until I feel like writing again. That keeps me from associating writing with being frustrated and upset since I only write when I actively want to.

Oops, kinda went into them above already! But other than those ones, I also obsess over statistics, coding, and general math nerd stuff since those are what I went to college for. There are probably other hobbies, but of course they've all popped out of my head now that I'm trying to think of them!

[1jemmagirl22]

Okay so I've been really busy for months and I'm finally gonna like post the two dozen tumblr posts about the obsessions I've been in since fucking May, seriously they are all saved in my drafts and in need of editing, but damn it if I'm not gonna comment on the Gilded Age first. Should I be back logging from SAB to Percabeth to Game of Thrones to Nancy Drew to ER before I do this? Most definitely? Will I be doing that? Of fucking course not so sit the fuck down mutuals I'm about to unload about the bloody fucking Gilded Age.

So I adore The Gilded Age in like this really twisted way, but damn is it good. So when I started season 2 and found myself, dare I say board, I was a bit scared what one of my friends said about the premiere would be accurate, bot was I wrong, no no, it was boardroom, it was annoyance so let's discuss the pros and cons of the Gilded Age season 2 episode 1 as well as what I hope to see in the coming episodes and what I absolutely love and want most about this show.

Okay cons first cause those are easier. The opening is boring. There is a substantive lack of Larry Russel in the episode. And worst of all, it's not, what's the word, a good opener. Ya that's the word. the first half hour is boring and the second half brilliant. It's suffering a bit from what I'd like to call second season syndrome, some shows produce a season 2 opener even better than it's premiere episode (The West Wing, Agents of Shield, Game of Thrones, Grey's Anatomy, and many more), others, however, don't, and Gilded Age did not, at least at first. The slow opening, mainly the whole undetermined time jump thing, really doesn't help with that either.

Now with that out of the way, the pros! Okay so, let's see Marian, Oscar, Larry, Gladys, and Mrs. Russel were all in top form. The acting as always was impeccable! The ending was *chefs kiss* dramatic perfection. And of course the costumes and the sets, oh perfection. But most of all, my favorite pro from season 2 episode 1 was the characters and the ships!

Okay so let's list shall we.

I'm gonna start with Oscar. Love how he's got like an actually arc this season, we given him some development, we're given him some social shift, oh it's gonna be brilliant! I love him and Gladys, I love him and his romantic friend who I';m sure was named at some point but I've forgotten cause it's been a while since I watched season 1. I love all of it! I'm so excited to see the chaos develop as the season progresses.

Next up, the Irish maid the the American footmen (I know they have names but It's too late to dig out the imdb and I don't remember their names) They were adorably angsty in season 1 and now they keep being adorable and angsty. All I have to say is please of fucking please Julian Fellows don't you Fucking dare pull a Daisy and William on them. Okay? Okay?

It would be a crime to not also mention Mr. and Mrs. Russel, the power couple goals those two give off are so amazing! Honestly worshipable.

And last but not least the only ship not present in this first episode, and annoyingly the ship I adore most, Larry and Marian! Gods I adored the so obvious chemistry friends to lovers vibes they had going for them in season 1, and Fitzsimmons I feel I'm gonna be neglected some of those vibes this season. I desperately hope Larry returns from Rhode Island soon, and even more so interact with Miriam, look I know the trailers say he's gonna have an affair but I'll be dammed if that stops me shipping their chemistry (Should I list the ships I've shopped who weren't together and actually with other people for long stretches of time in the last month alone? I'll do it anyway. Nancy and Ace, Carol and Doug, Magnum and Higgens like three separate Grey's Anatomy ships, Beth and Benny, like probably something else too it's been a busy month). Anyways I'm so excited to see more of them, fingers crossed for episode 2. Anywho hope everyone has a lovely day while I sink into another ship relapse *looks at Paramount+* ooo, I should relapse in 5-0!

[du-hjarta-skulblaka]

The Sunny Masterpost

Because I love them,,

Sundavar "Sunny" Wyrda is my oldest oc at something like 15 years. They are half elven nonbinary lesbian, generally taking the role of rogue/thief although they'd preffer to reffer to themself as a traveling tradesperson, or straight up smuggler if they trust you.

They're a deeply troubled person with some particularly nasty bits of trauma in their past and a whole host of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and my primary reason for writing them has always been exploration of how these things can shape someone, as well as the long, slow climb to recovery. So while they can absolutly be an angsty depressed wreck, they also have a pretty sharp sense of humour and a super strong (if sometimes lopsided) drive for justice. Also they're a dumbass who can't read.

Primarily making this because while in the past I've mainly used them for roleplay and d&d, I've finally started work on a novel with them as the POV character! The general concept is a murder mystery with notes of cosmic horror and political corruption with a focus on exploring the world through their trauma as they learn how to trust other people and dig themself out of their rut to hopefully make a difference in their world. If that sounds at all interesting to you, let me know! I'm considering posting the first draft to a03 as I go if there's enough interest!