#this is the first draft so apologies if its messy

[galaxostars]

Trick or treat! 🧡

thank you <3

im soooo swamped up with life these days so I haven't been writing much (side eye at my wip and million of open docs) but I've toyed with the idea of james/kinglsey/regulus a lot, so I'm trying to get a little one shot of them in their forties being domestic and cute (because autumn vibes and seasonal depression makes me crave fluff), here's a tiny snippet :

A faint whine escapes James’ lips and Kingsely barely has time to react before James is crashing their lips together, gripping him by the back of his head to bring him impossibly closer. Kingsley goes willingly, lets their noses smash into each other uncomfortably. Remind them that they're here; they're alive, their love is. And it scorches—that need, just like a fire lighting them up and annihilating all those insecurities to ashes.

The taste of coffee bursts on his tongue, but more bitter, dirtier, metallic like blood. Because James is biting Kingsley's bottom lip, fissuring his body to slip inside, sucking and tugging on it as if it belongs to him. It does, god it does. And Kingsley chases that aroma in the back of his molars, licking it up like it's candy. But it's iron, the type that fuses them together, a mess of atoms colliding into a galaxy. Because it feels just as endless. Greater than life and death. Because it births stars behind his eyelids.

Kingsley properly melts into the kiss, feels like he's turning to honey—how can he not? He’s drinking love from the sun, gripping him fiercely and burning up from each point of contact. Dragging his fingers to James' hair to tug at the root and swallow the choked moan it elicits from him. Delicious. A shiver runs down Kingsley's spine when James' hand slides down his scalp to wrap around his throat. Squeezing softly.

And it’s so easy to get lost in it. To forget about the rest of the world, meaningless as it is in that instant.

Except there’s another star missing in their cosmo, just as bright, but quieter, icy blue. A searing one all the same, reminding them of its existence.

“Am I interrupting something, then?”

Ah. And pissed off too, it seems. 

[yzashaven]

HI HI HI MAY I REQUEST THAT U WRITE MENTALLY ILL USER X SCARA DOCTOR:33 LIKE USER IS OBSESSED WITH HIM AND HE FINDS IT ADORABLE!

FEATURING ! doctor!scaramouche x mentally ill!fem!reader

CONTENTS ! reader admitted in a psychiatric hospital, attached reader, reader wears hospital gown, cunnilingus, fingering, use of darling/dear, clit and nipple stimulation, teasing, orgasm denial, neck biting

NOTE ! first of all, I'M SO SO SORRY that this took so long 😭 i loved your request and had a few ideas but couldn't find a way to write it so i had like 5 drafts for this in my notes app lmao anyway, i do hope this turned out alright and you still enjoy it even if it's really messy and is honestly a hard read for me. i'll probably redo this in the future !

a psychiatric hospital. the place where you've been spending most of your days lately. you can't remember why or when exactly you got brought here but that doesn't really matter. and now you're sitting on the edge of your bed, lost in thought as you stare at the man sitting ahead of you, doctor scaramouche. he's been responsible for treating you since the start and seems to be quite fond of you. "hey... are you listening?" your train of thought ends as you hear the sound of fingers snapping right in front of your face. apologizing briefly to him, "you have to listen carefully." he shakes his head before writing something down on a clipboard. "now... where were weㅡ" he's so charming that you can't look anywhere else, looking at him with love in your eyes. "how have you been feeling? i haven't recorded any odd or weird activity from you recently... and that's a good thing, surely you'll be out of here in no time." he smiles gently at you. no way he just said that! you didn't wanna leave and go somewhere he wasn't at.

"do i have to leave?" you asked him sadly, despite knowing the answer already. "of course you have to, darling." oh the way he'd call you by petnames never failed to make your heart race, even the sound of his voice that makes your cheeks blush cherry red. "but i don't want to! i wanna stay here with you." your words caught him off guard, earning a dark chuckle from the man. "and why is that?" "because i like you, you're here..." your face drops, looking down at the floor as reality hits you. he chuckles some more, leaving the clipboard on the bedside table nearby before making his way closer to you. scaramouche's fingers make their way under your chin to lift your face up, resulting in having eye contact between you both. "you wanna stay with me?" he says while seemingly laughing slightly, sharp eyes piercing through yours as he looks down at you. "don't be so obsessive and attached. it's time for you to go home." "scara, no... my home is where you're at~" you're practically pleading at him now to let you stay. "it's doctor scaramouche to you, darling."

"but i do think that i'll grant you permission for informalities with me." he smiles at you gently. "now... how about i give you something to remember me by, would you like that?" his fingers leave your face to step back a bit and discard his white coat as he speaks in a slightly stern yet soft tone. "come on now, get comfortable. i'll make sure you have a good time." your cheeks flush a light red as he smirks at you. making your way to the middle of the bed and sitting down comfortably as you watch him place the coat down on the chair, his slightly tight undershirt accentuating the body features on his torso.

he takes your chin in between his fingers once more before lowering himself down to eye-level and indulging you in a soft kiss, pushing you down on the bed in the process. his hand find its way along your cheek, collarbone and down to your thighs, fingers slipping under the silk white hospital gown with featherlight touches. scaramouche kneels down beside the bed and in front of you on the floor, pulling you closer by the thighs, his face only mere inches away from your heating core. "just enjoy the ride and let me do all the work, alright, darling?" he whispers seductively, constantly rubbing your inner thigh delicately, to which you let out a nearly inaudible whimper while nodding obediently.

with you watching him intently, he finally pushes away the fabric of the gown out of the way and up to your hips, granting access to your nearly soaked panties. he begins by spreading your thighs gently before teasing your slit over the cloth with a finger, dragging along the area. as you let out a soft sigh, he took it as a sign to keep going, leaning in to plant soft kisses on your clit. pulling the garments aside to reveal your glistening hole, he looks up at you with a sly smirk and teases your cunt by adding a finger and softly kisses your clit again. your fingers hurry to pull on his indigo locks in an attempt to pull him even closer. chuckling darkly, he adds another finger, two digits slowly thrusting in and out of your drenched pussy as his tongue skillfully dances with your clit, sending shiver up your spine.

as his tongue continues to stimulate your sensitive bud, his hands make their way up to fully remove the white hospital gown from your body. delicate touches against your soft skin that leave goosebumps at where they made contact. scaramouche gets up from his knees to take into sight of your helpless form on the bed; hair slightly scattered on the sheets, eyes looking at him with desperateness, body exposed to be completely at his mercy. with a long sigh in pleasure his hands went up to grope at your chest from beneath the bra before ripping it off eventually. fingers crawling back inside your tight hole while his lips attach to your nipple, lightly nibbling on the perked up area along with licking and sucking on it every now and then, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body.

maintaining eye contact with you, his starts to rub your clit in slow circular motions, smiling as he watches your face contort to one of pleasure and pure ecstacy. eyeing your neck for a second, scaramouche then kisses your neck trying to find your so called sweet spot. smirking against your skin upon hearing you moan as a confirmation of finding the said area, to which he bites on it, causing your body to jolt slightly with a rather loud moan. slowly lapping at the teeth marks left as his digits pick up a faster pace. feeling your climax upcoming, you tell him so, ready to finally be able to cum on his fingers and coat them in your essence. yet he doesn't allow you to, curling them at an angle one last time, only to pull apart sooner later. moving back to observe your figure once more.

although no matter how much you kept begging for him to continue, he didn't. instead he began to get rid of his own clothes, claiming they were 'in the way of the real fun'. showing off his pretty erected cock as he pulled down his pants, stroking it slowly before pulling you closer once again. teasing your tight hole by lightly slapping his length on you and rubbing his tip along your soaking entrance. leaning in only to whisper a few words that sent you in an exhilarated state.

"i hope you're ready for me. 'cause we most definitely are not stopping."

[gonedreaminggg]

Laurance Zvahl's Hair

this wasn't supposed to happen. i promise. it just appeared in my drafts.

but, as promised, here is almost 2000 words about Laurance Zvahl's hair. (with some garrance sprinkled in there for the crazies 😏)

--

Laurance and his hair go way back. When he was a kid, it was always messy. He'd get dirt and grime in it and Hayden would always just shake his head and tell him to bathe when he got home from playing all day. His light brown locks would get so long in between haircuts, and the longer it was the more likely it was to get matted. So Hayden would cut it very very short, stopping right behind his ears.

But, he'd be able to escape Hayden's scissors every once in a while. If something was amiss in the village, it would take up all of Hayden's time. So, he managed to grow it out long again.

Until one day, when Laurance was 8. Him and Cadenza were playing in the backyard, and she pushed him a bit harder than she thought. He ended up crashing into the chicken wire fence. His hair got all tangled up in it, and he was stuck. Cadenza was all panicked, apologizing profusely as she yelled for their father. Hayden grabbed his scissors and cut Laurance free from the fence. It was super super short, shorter than it had ever been. And super choppy, too.

After that, Laurance was terrified of haircuts. He never let anyone cut his hair ever again. And at this time in his life, he was getting more curious about his parents. And his heritage. There were people still in Meteli that knew his parents. They were Tu'layan immigrants, much like most of the population in Meteli. He wanted to know more about Tu'la and its culture. One of the things he learned was the superstitions they had about hair. There's an intense spiritual connection to it. It's a part of their spirit. It holds their strength and confidence. It connects them to the land around them.

After that, Laurance definitely did not want to cut his hair. In respect for his parents and his heritage. He also truly believed that it held his strength. If he wanted to be a guard, or a lord, he needed his strength. He grew it out for years. When he meets Aphmau, the last time he had cut his hair was the whole chicken wire fiasco. It was so insanely long, and damaged from the dye Cadenza had put in it. He usually held it in a messy braid, just to keep it cleaner. And yes, he finally learned how to take care of his hair in the years he'd been growing it.

When he was at the guard academy, he had no clue what to do with his hair. He had the longest hair out of the boys. The girls training there called him “wasted potential.” Which had nothing to do with his fighting skills, by the way. He was already climbing the ranks in his first two years there. Eventually, one of the girls took pity on him, and gave him a bottle of conditioner. She taught him how to do the towel wrap thingy, which he thought was literal magicks.

After that, girls literally started flocking around him and Garroth. And he earned his flirtatious attitude from that. He never had a girlfriend at the guard academy, but he did get around.

Garroth was very intrigued by his hair. He’d never seen a boy with hair so long. He asked Laurance why he kept it long. To him, it seemed more like a pain than anything. When he talked to Garroth, it was the first and really only time he explained everything about his hair. What it meant to him, why he had started growing it out in the first place, and his complete disdain for chicken wire fences. Garroth understood, but still questioned how difficult it might be when fighting. Laurance never gave him an answer.

Cadenza had also taught him how to braid his hair. Around the time they were 18, Laurance’s hair was so unruly, but he was absolutely not gonna let her cut it. So, she braided it for him whenever he had a shift at the guardpost. Eventually, she taught him how to do it. She was getting tired of taking care of his mess of a mane.

A few years later, Cadenza had the bright idea to dye Laurance’s hair. She was so adamant about it. But Laurance always remarked on how it looked like her head was on fire. But she ended up convincing him. Laurance regretted it immediately. He had been ready for some sort of change. But once he saw it, he just started laughing. He really DID look like Cadenza. Which is weird, seeing as they’re adopted siblings and from completely different racial backgrounds. But they have the same soft features, and the same sharp jawline.

And then, he met Aphmau. She was the first woman he really had to try with. In Meteli, if he gave someone the right look, they’d be fawning over him. But he was so interested in Aphmau. She was allusive, and powerful. And she did not give a shit about him. Yes, she was a very caring person, but all of his sly remarks were ignored. However, she was very interested in his hair. A lot of people were, but she didn’t know the meaning behind it. Once he told her, she was fascinated. The idea of hair holding spirit and strength enticed her, and it really resonated with her, too. She let Laurance braid her hair whenever he wanted after that.

When Laurance gets out of the nether, he feels entirely lost and disconnected from himself. Cadenza offers to clean him up, and get him in some new clothes. Even though he's blind, Cadenza can see the emptiness in his eyes. She offers to dye his hair back to its original color. And there's something unlocked within him. His hair. It feels wrong, and heavy. Not so much because of how dirty it is, his own blood and sweat in it. It's weighed down by everything that's happened. He's something new now. Something that feels less. "Cut it off," He says. Cadenza freezes. She knows why he keeps his hair long, and has witnessed his hatred of haircuts first hand. But she does it anyway. Whatever Laurance needs from her, she'll do it.

When Garroth saw him later that night at the baby shower, he was more than concerned. He really hadn’t seen much of Laurance since they’d found him, terrified of seeing him in that state. But then he did. He was blind. His hair was cut short, and it was brown again. Garroth knew more than anyone what Laur’s hair meant. He was scared of what this implied. And he knew Laurance was a Shadow Knight now. He couldn’t have survived the nether for that long without being transformed. Laurance was his friend, maybe more, but he was someone else now.

A distance formed between them. Laurance was struggling, even when his sight somewhat came back. And Garroth kept thinking about the amendment he made in the Guard’s Oath. He didn’t want Laurance dead, but he wanted Aphmau safe. And then, she wasn’t. She had left, and they hadn’t heard from her in weeks. So, with some malice between them, the two guards had to go find their Lord.

When Laurance, Garroth, and Aphmau went on that long journey, all of their hair grew out pretty fast. He saw Garroth and Aphmau cutting each other's hair one time. He didn't really mention it, not wanting anyone to get any ideas about HIS hair. But, eventually, Garroth pointed out the literal rat's nest growing on his head. Laurance let him cut his hair. It was the first haircut he ever had that he didn't hate. From then on, only Garroth could touch his hair.

Laurance realized how easy it was to take care of short hair. He hadn’t had hair this short since he was a child. But he felt lighter. He felt like he had completely changed as a person, now that he was a Shadow Knight. He held his strength elsewhere, now. He was growing a disdain for his heritage, and his past. Being something new opened a different chapter of his life. He was beginning to hate his human side, and his culture. So he let Garroth cut his hair every once in a while.

And then they went to the Irene dimension. And Garroth got left behind. Laurance was in a world without his other half, which Garroth had grown to be. He stopped thinking about his hair really, and when he did it was memories of Garroth sitting behind him, knife in hand as he trimmed his hair. So, over the months, maybe years that Garroth was gone, he began to grow his hair again. Was it in respect for Garroth this time? The memories they shared, the time they had lost?

By the time they saved Garroth, and Aaron had died, Laurance’s hair was past his shoulders. Garroth was trying to settle into this new era. He knew that so much time had passed, the decay of Phoenix Drop showing that. But when he saw Laurance, that just solidified the deep sorrow for all he’d lost. There were new scars on Laurance’s face, a tenseness in his posture. His hair was long again. Nowhere near the length it had reached before, but substantial enough to hurt Garroth in a way he’d never felt before.

Laurance kept growing out his hair after that. It just… felt right. The calling was consuming him. He needed his strength again, something to hold his true spirit. He needed a visible reminder that he was Laurance, not whatever the calling wanted him to be. And it worked, for a while. He let his anger simmer deep within him. He tried to hold on to whatever was keeping him sane. Garroth needed him, Aphmau needed him. He just needed to hold on.

And then he heard about Aphmau’s pregnancy. He had gotten over her for the most part, but there was something in him that just wouldn’t let her go. It was the calling. It wouldn’t let him let her go. And hearing that she was pregnant, with Aaron’s child, lit a flame inside of him. The simmering anger in his heart had exploded into an eternal flame.

He wasn’t in control anymore. His limbs moved against his command. He found a nether portal. He took his sword, the one Aphmau had gifted to him, and cut off his hair. And he jumped in.

[vintagevict0ria]

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

“You brush past me in the hallway…”

chapter 1

pairing: Adam Driver x f!reader

content: n/a

a/n: omg i am soooooo excited for this you have no idea. Its been so long since i posted and this idea has been stuck in my drafts since july and since im back in my Adam driver era- id thought id finish this. This is mostly inspired by Taylor Swifts song "I can see you" and each chapter will be based on a lyric! So i am no expert on how film/actor/movie stuff works so bear with me. Hopeful as this goes on, it will get better. Im planning on finishing this by the new year (who knows if that will happen) but since im on break i should take advantage of my free time. Ok long story short I will be writing this shit non stop since im on a writing high so who knows if the next chapter will come out tommorow! Hope you enjoy! Notes are greatly appreciated!!

Y/n, a famous actress known for her beautiful face and captivating personality but also her incredible acting skills. You had been nominated for over 50 awards and won 5 oscars. It had been a while since you were on a set nor a movie. The last film was a roaring success and the critics were crazy about it! The media begged for another film starring Y/N Y/L/N.

The first thing you heard when you woke up was the sound of your phone ringing. Your agent- Carolina, was calling. You quickly answered- yawning and hoping she wouldn’t hear it. “Y/n! Great news!” You sighed, not really understanding what was happening. “You got the job!” The job? what is she talking about? “huh?” You rubbed your eyes, laying back down. “The movie!! Adam Driver is in it too! Oh my gosh i can hear them now! ‘Y/n y/l/n and Adam Driver are co-stars in the biggest hit of the year!” Once you heard his name, you sprung up “Wait what?” “Yeah! They want you here in LA by tomorrow morning. I’ve already booked you a flight to leave in..5 hours! Bye!” She hung up before you could say another word. You glanced over at the clock- 9:35. The flight was at 2:15 and it would take a while to pack and get ready. So, being the smart woman you are, you got up and started the day. Showering, packing, and of course- stopping to get starbucks.

Once you arrived in LA, you headed to the condo where you would be staying for a majority of filming. That morning you woke up and started getting ready for the day. Showering, and making a coffee before you headed out to the table read. You threw on a pair of leggings and a tshirt. It was late autumn so you took a jacket on the way out. At the studio you said hello to the crew and a huge thank you to the casting director. “Y/n!” It was Carolina- she ran up to you and embraced you in a tight hug. “How was the flight?” You smiled at the redhead girl “Great.” Carolina jumped up and down with excitement and handed you sheets of paper. On the cover was the name of the film, the name of the director-JJ Abrams- and your name. “Heres your script. You need to go ahead and head in there! Bye!” She walked away, the sound of her heals clicked across the floor. You quickly skimmed through the pages while walking and not paying attention. You soon enough ran into someone, your coffee spilling over you and the floor along with your script- which was on the floor…covered in coffee. “Oh gosh Im so sorry!” You apologized while picking up your script, wincing at the wet paper. “You might want to watch where you are going next time.” The voice was soft but stern. You looked up and realized it was Adam Driver.

He was wearing all black and his hair was messy. He glanced at you with a subtle stare. “Im so sorry!” You stood up, brushing yourself off. “No worries, happens to the best of us.” He rolled his shoulders back and popped his neck, closing his eyes. Damn he was attractive. ”You headed in?” You asked, trying to keep your composure together. Adam simply just nodded.

The first day of the read consisted of going over the aspects of the film and the time line of production. After the read through, filming would start, then the movie premiere would take place after filming and production in Hollywood, but that was a whiles away. When the read was over you walked out with another co star. Heading to your condo, you received a text from Carolina. "Girl, just talked to JJ and he just gave me word that there is a sex scene between you and Adam 😁" The stupid emoji at the end made you cringe. Carolina giving you this news shot your nerves through the roof. As if you weren't already nervous enough about working with Adam, having to film a intimate scene made it far worse. Kicking your shoes off and falling onto your bed, you opened instagram, an attempt to get your mind of the situation at hand, it didn't work.

[suffarustuffaru]

Scrolling through your blog is such a fun experience, you bring an absolutely great vibe to this fandom and I love it SO MUCH. Could even say you restored my hope in it, since there has been some aspects that made me force myself to leave it, and I hope me bringing one of them up here won't upset anyone.

Now I completely understand if you wish to not answer my ask, but I figured it's worth a shot. So, one of said aspects was a controversy regarding one of the rezero characters that made me feel like you can't mention them without being called names (mostly on tiktok, but other social media also, tho not as much).

Yeah I'm talking about Felix. I'm not transphobic by any means, and I'm fine with people headcannoning whatever they want, but seeing thousands of people calling others transphobic for calling Felix a 'he' made me so unsafe I forced myself to look for other interest. Which is funny since most of the people saying this weren't even part of the fandom. I was wondering if anyone else here had similar situations and just.. how do you deal with it? It seems silly, I know, but feeling like I can't speak about a rather important character from a media I love made me so upset.

No matter how much I tried explaining it, they either dismiss it or say Tappei made him a trans girl without knowing.

Now, if you do decide to answer this and say that Felix indeed may have been 'trans coded' a little bit (Did I used that term correcly? Idk) I'll understand (hell, I would probably agree, you character analysis are great), I'm just upset at the absolute lack of respect for any other way of referring to Felix other then she/her.

(Also in case people don't know, their proof of Felix being a trans girl is the scene from EX1, with the whole calling himself a girl in front of a mirror thing)

Sorry for this is being long and probably messy I just had to get this off my chest.. also I hope I didn't came of as offensive in any way, if I did I'm really sorry.

hi there anon! first of all - aw thank you for your compliments about me and my blog. im super passionate about rezero (though thats probably super clear to anyone whos seen any content i make for a while aljsdlkf) and well. ive been lurking about in this fandom since summer 2020 so i definitely understand having to leave/distance yourself from this fandom because outside of tumblr, the rezero fandom is kind of . well. to put it simply, theres a lot of metaphorical landmines unfortunately!! T^T and admittedly i wouldve left this fandom a lot sooner if i didnt stick to my own corner and curate spaces with other people who were super chill (like lots of people lurking about here on tumblr + rz tumblr in general!!). so i totally understand how you feel anon (and youre not silly for being upset, i promise!), though admittedly im not super super familiar with some rezero spaces (such as rz twitter) bc i 1. dont speak japanese and 2. i try very hard to avoid the negativity whenever possible!! T^T

and also i apologize for taking a while to answer your ask!! you're one of my older asks that kinda got lost in my drafts hah but i also just wanted to like. take extra care with your ask bc its a super important topic. like not just to me (though its definitely important to me) but its important in general. and i really like felix so. <3

a quick disclaimer is that i myself am not transfem. i am however afab and most likely genderqueer!! (im winging it as i go hah.) felix is also not a character id say im as well-versed in yet, but i do like felix a lot and ex1 changed my entire brain chemistry. and ill also be defaulting to he/him pronouns in this post because thats what he uses in canon.

felix is - at the end of the day - a fictional character, and tappei is a cis man who doesnt Entirely write characters like felix through a queer lens. arguably tappei is Self-Aware when he writes characters who are into other characters of the same sex (though the Representation is arguably a little bit questionable at times depending on how you look at it), but when it comes to characters like felix or subaru who have some Gender Stuff going on, it's more nebulous there. i dont know if tappei 100% realizes he's made characters that could be read as Trans/Genderqueer (emphasis on "read as", because i support different interpretations of these characters), but tappei Definitely Is Very Aware that gender and gender presentation and gender roles are super important when it comes to characters like felix, subaru, and crusch.

i think tappeis own perceptions of gender and gender roles do bleed a bit into the text as much as tappei is pretty purposeful with themes surrounding gender in rezero, but rezero itself still has all sorts of identity issues to explore with a lot of its characters and gender is a big part of that!!

so first and foremost im gonna be examining felix the best i can Purely Off Of The Canon Text, though i do like viewing rezero from a queer lens myself (and it is arguably very queer). im gonna talk first about felix and then ill move onto talking about my personal feelings on rezero fandom stuff :o !!

so felix's relationship with his gender is complicated and he Absolutely does not fit into traditional gender roles or gender presentation right now. these are undeniable. and if people headcanon felix as transfem thats totally understandable and valid!! but to say a headcanon is 100% canon and that other interpretations of a character as complex as felix are invalid isnt exactly it. for sure. i mean i myself interpret him as nonbinary haah. but felix's relationship with gender is so so so So complicated that i dont think you could just say hes transfem and then Not Elaborate More.

but regardless of how Exactly you label felix, i think you could possibly say that hes trans coded. tappei, even if he probably doesnt entirely know hes made pretty genderqueer characters, is Aware and Purposeful of how gender affects felix and his perception of himself and his identity and other peoples perception of him and this is brought up Over and Over Again in canon—felix’s gender identity, at the moment, aligns more with femininity in his presentation in every way, though he still perceives himself as masculine. felix’s case is complicated, and while im not entirely sure on this i think you could argue that hes trans coded—“coding” suggests a level of intent when making these characters, and i think that intent is present in some way with tappei. because tappei Knows just how important gender is with felix’s character and you can tell with how often and how Integral it is to felix’s entire character.

(more under the cut) (i do have a habit of being rambley/wordy sometimes if. if you couldnt tell already. but i hope this response is up to your standards!!)

these three analysis posts on felix's relationship with gender have all discussed this topic in-depth before i have, and i 1. really like the rezero content i see from all three of these people and 2. they All have slightly different takes based on the canon we have but also some similar points. because felix is complicated!! of course our takes are probably gonna be a bit different - he's a multifaceted character with such a complex relationship with his gender that it's hard to tell what every single one of his personal feelings on it is (especially when at the moment he hasnt appeared in the main story since arc 5 and he still has a Lot of character development to do). and of course fiction is fiction, we can all take away any sort of meaning from a story like this.

but you know. this is my post so im gonna try to analyze felix right now and say my two cents on what i think of his relationship with gender.

so im gonna try not to retread too much on what liquidstar, sufferu, and gourmet of gluttony have already said about felix (and i think theyre all very smart people with interesting analysis posts and theyve all explained their thoughts pretty well) and instead add on with my own thoughts - theres this felix excerpt from arc 4 wn that i think about sometimes. im gonna put it down here!!

and also important to note—like other people have mentioned, crusch and felix made a “deal” of sorts in the past where crusch takes on felix’s masculinity and felix takes on crusch’s femininity. and also like other people have said—and i myself have said in the past—i do have some mixed feelings on this wkdndn and as i said before also i do wish tappeis feelings on gender bled a little less when theyre Not Integral To The Story. bc i dont think tappei 100% knows hes made trans coded characters, but. anyway yeah so thats the whole deal with crusch felix. and in its own right i think it has So Many Interesting Implications!!

i think when it comes down to it, gender presentation IS a bit of a performance, isn't it? like i love to wear dressses and skirts and i love to keep my hair short and wear suits, but you know - these sorts of things tend to be gendered. our gender is often perceived through how we present ourselves, but in recent years gender roles being attached to clothing has gotten a bit less Rigid. but these rigid roles associated with presentation are even more dialed up to Eleven in a medieval world like the rezero fantasy world. and i dont use the word "performance" in a negative way -

what i mean is that when it comes to felix's character, does felix think he's a boy because that's what he's been told? does he think he's a boy because he TRULY sees himself that way, or does he THINK he has to see himself as one? does felix try to present and perform femininity, ie as or like a traditionally feminine girl, purely ONLY for crusch's sake, or is it because felix ALSO WANTS to? what does felix think of gender outside of crusch? who is felix outside of crusch? who is felix outside of tying his entire personality to other people? does felix’s femininity show the “radiance of ferris’ soul” bc of the deal he made with crusch or bc this truly is felix’s soul? these are like the big questions behind his entire character and character arc that would determine in the end how felix identifies in both his gender and In General.

so what is felix's identity at the moment? bc right now, felix is stuck between his feminine self, tied to crusch, a symbol of crusch, tied to his own reliance on crusch and worship of her—and his masculine self, someone broken off from crusch. felix is tied to crusch right now to worrying extents with his obsessive devotion to the point of changing himself to mold into her image, and beyond that, hes still tied to guilt surrounding fourier’s death. gourmet of gluttony puts all of this way way more intelligently than i ever could, but at the end of the day, i think the best narrative decision here would be for felix to accept himself in ALL of his entirety.

healing in rezero is noted to be a kind power, specifically by fourier and fourier saying this right to felix when hes the most talented healer in lugunica, and healing itself is often stereotypically feminine activity. knighthood is stereotypically masculine, and on top of all this, we see in ex1 that biehn argyle twists the power of healing into something grotesque—trying to bring back the dead and revive what cant be revived, which is once again another reoccurring theme in rezero.

how far can “from zero” go? what HAS to stay dead and what can be revived? who is allowed to live? HOW do you live freely? felix is someone born from a horribly abusive and neglectful family who twisted healing magic’s kindness into cruelty, felix is someone who was taken into a family that showed him kindness and now hes desperate to pay them back with everything he has and everything he is, felix is a healer who lashes out when hes cornered and a healer who treasures life and a knight who cant physically fight like the others, felix is someone stuck with the horrible knowledge that he cant save everyone—that some things just Couldnt end better no matter how much he wished for it to.

felix is stuck between all kinds of worlds, and in terms of gender, hes quite literally still stuck between boyhood and manhood in the biological sense—hes purposefully made it so that he hasnt hit puberty yet so he can better pass as feminine. he hasnt Physically Grown past puberty—which is the mark of becoming an adult. and he hates himself in a number of ways, but he also hates himself for failing to be traditionally masculine. his abusive family stole ten years of his life and the torture left him physically weaker, so he cant be strong physically, which is something associated with traditional masculinity. felix is the best healer, a traditionally feminine job and skill, but he cant save everyone. felix becomes more feminine as part of his deal with crusch, but while crusch accepts her femininity and masculinity readily, and while crusch’s memory is erased by gluttony—felix is left behind, alone, still holding onto femininity while not entirely being able to hold onto it while he also cant entirely hold onto the traditional masculinity he expects out of himself. and with arc 3 on, felix feels hes failed both fourier and crusch. the two most important male and female figures in his life.

felix is basically stuck in this liminal space where hes not Enough for himself in literally every direction, and the only way out is to accept every part of himself and move forward by trying to define who he is without other people—his birth family and his found family dont define him. they can shape him, sure, but he has to stop shaping himself to meet them and figure out how to let himself just. Be. and take up a space thats firmly his. from a queer lens, this kind of thing is pretty queer—because to stop being in between worlds, you have to accept everything instead of splitting yourself into halves over and over again. killing or maiming yourself or parts of yourself is no way to live, and felix is Life itself.

and i think regardless of the Exact Labels you could give felix, i think his arc—which is perfectly in line with all of rezeros themes—is inherently about self acceptance and the bridging of the gap and combination of femininity and masculinity. felix is both and identifies, in one way or another, with both, similar to how he loves someone who identifies with both (crusch) and just as hes loved her and fourier. imo it wouldnt be right for felix to choose one or the other in terms of feminine vs masculine—he needs to be the one learning and navigating his honest feelings on both sides bc i think he Yearns to be both. hes a boy who dresses like a girl and its up to him to know if he wants to be a man and/or a woman due to his own internal desire or if parts of that is Only due to external pressures.

--

and alright now that ive said all my thoughts on felix atm im gonna address the other questions you had in your ask!! note that this is just my opinions and thoughts regarding my own experience in the english fandom, you dont have to agree or anything 👍

but i AM very sorry about your negative experiences in this fandom. T^T people calling other transphobic for using he/him for felix (and also people being transphobic about characters like felix or subaru/natsumi in general) is something ive seen as well. the rezero fandom is sadly very often toxic and Bigoted in a lot of ways (with the exception of rezero tumblr and certain segments of rezero ao3, from what ive seen), which is Ironic for a story thats so clearly about love and self-acceptance, which is also ironic because arguably tappei and otsuka and the rezero marketing team (i Love the female characters in rezero but theres just so much sexualized or vaguely sexist merch/moments that dont add to the story, you know? kind of just. misses the point of their characters sometimes.) sort of contribute to it a little bit as much as tappei does do some really great things with his writing.

rezero is the first fandom ive been active in but its definitely not the first ive ever been in, and ive been in some insane fandoms before. like i said earlier though, i think i just cope by curating my experience to what i like, yknow? liking posts i enjoy, looking at stuff i enjoy, etc :O !! fandom is a hobby so i try not to look at negative stuff when i can help it wkdnd. which im sure youre aware about already but i always have to keep reminding myself of this bc places like rezero reddit or twitter get pretty rough!! but its really helped me just following artists and creators i like, enjoying their content, chatting with cool people i vibe with, rezero tumblr being the chillest rezero space in the whole fandom, and its also helped me a lot making rezero content of my own—like this whole blog!! its really shocked me how much people seem to value my thoughts enough to ask me things frequently but i appreciate it pfft. and i hope you guys like reading my posts!!

but yeah like. curate, curate, curate. it helps a LOT and it gets me excited to experience rezero not only by myself you know? not that i didnt have fun by myself but its its own level of fun finally finding spaces to have fun with others!! and i LOVE finding beautiful fanart!! chef’s kiss. and trying to be the change i want to see is satisfying on its own :,) i want to post random shit about rezero, so i post it. i want to make fanart for fun and share it. i want to brute force people into loving otto more so i ottopost (dont worry, i still hate him bc true otto fans also hate him at the same time <3 /lh). i want more queer rezero content so i try to make some more!! brings more personal power i think and its very fun!! and it helps with lessening the quiet despair of fandom toxicity ;-;; (which is something ive done many times and will continue to do sometimes so i feel your pain 🫂) and i promise theres cool people in the fandom 👍 i may reply late to asks or dms but im ALWAYS down to talk about rezero things its so fun 👍👍

and its really really hard sometimes to deal with fandom toxicity especially if its forcefully knocking at your door—definitely dont force yourself to stay or look at things if you cant, bc thats totally understandable!! and i myself have been harassed a little in the past. but definitely having some sort of coping—the block button, backing out of things you dont agree with or like, lots and lots of curating, etc—helps me a lot. and i think mental health wise i feel much better trying to look on the bright side of things!! its MY hobby goddammit!! ill fight people subaru-style if they try to poison it!! and however long anyone reading this decides to spend with rezero and rezero tumblr—you are welcome here 👍

but yes my very Long rambling aside - i hope this post somewhat helped you!! felix is a very important character that i like very much and need to learn more about and i have Many Feelings on the english side of this fandom, but im very grateful to all the cool people ive met over the years here for sure!! :o

also ill probably post the finished version soon but if youve read this far here is a sneak peak of felix art i did recently (just as a reward for once again reading all of my Endless Yapping)👍👍

[bunniekittiee]

stranglehold- johnny slaughter x fem. reader

Yes, I know none of this is date accurate to Ted Nugent’s release of his album but ykw just go with it, just pretend it’s not something I changed. Based off my headcanon that Johnny would be a sucker for Ted Nugent. Also, you can't tell me that this song isn’t his theme song?!

Curtesy to my bf who showed me Ted Nugent when we first started dating. He is the man, the myth, the legend, my world (referring to my bf not old man Nugent lol). My dad is also a Ted Nugent fan, but I found this out way after I started dating my bf but yk shout out to my dad.

I lowkey suck at endings so I apologize if it isn’t the best. Also, I wanted to change this and give the reader more fight in her. I always write them submissive to Johnny, and I wanted this one to give him a fight.

I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for a couple of months and I knew I needed to finish it.

Content warning: Blood, gore, description of wounds, Johnny being a little sexual and pushy, and not proofread.

December 25th, 1963

The Slaughter boy was a fan of Ted Nugent the minute he unwrapped one of his last few gifts from Chop Top. Hazel eyes scanning the cover, they were caught by the man himself. Ted Nugent, standing there with his guitar and his hair a crazed mess. The outline of him was slightly hazy, but it was still him.

“Heard ’im playing on the radio in the shop.” Chop Top said as Johnny ran his fingers over the cover. “After finding out who it was, I got it for ya’. I have a feelin’ ya’ gonna’ like it.”

Antsy for the rest of unwrapping gifts, Johnny eyed the album that he held carefully in his lap. He was itching to play it, he wanted to hear what Mr. Nugent sounded like. The messy hair, the glistening of sweat on his skin, the blur of his body, this was extremely impressionable on the young Slaughter boy whom was only fifteen.

Presents were done being unwrapped and Johnny immediately dashed off to his room. Chop Top chuckled at the boy’s excitement and elbowed Nubbins. “I am the best gift giver to that kid.” And Johnny would agree with him, he truly was.

Johnny took the record out of its plastic covering and slid the disc itself out of the cardboard holder. Carefully, he placed it on his record player and let the needle drop.

The guitar started echoing in his room, Johnny watching with his mouth slightly agape at the record spinning. He started nodding his head to the drum beat when it came in.

“Here I come again now baby, like a dog in heat. You can tell it’s me by the clamor now baby, I like to tear up the streets.”

Listening intently to every sound that played back to his ears, he felt his blood rush and goosebumps raise on his flesh. Something in this song captivated him. Whether it was the vocals or the haunting howl of Ted Nugent’s guitar, Johnny knew one thing for sure. This song would follow him for the rest of his life.

August 12th, 1973

Nine years had passed, almost ten since that fateful day of Chop Top’s incredible gift. Johnny went from a shy, reserved young boy to a flirty, rough, man. He was not the kid he once was, his muscles and height being very physically telling of that. He once had grown his hair out long, but he chopped it off. A dire mistake had almost cost him his life, so it was not worth the risk anymore. However, he did not want it completely short, so he cut it to where it could not be tugged on or get caught on objects. He hated when his hair was touched, it enraged him.

Finishing his cigarette, he began to get into his truck when Sissy waved at him to stop. He sighed.

“What is it now that ya’ want?” he asked with annoyance traced within his words

She hummed. “When are ya’ gonna’ bring your little girlfriend around? I’ve been wantin’ a new friend.” She smiled and Johnny rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know. But ya’ ain’t comin’ around her.”

“Why not?” She pouted.

“I don’t trust ya.”

“That’s real funny comin’ from ya’. She shouldn’t trust ya’ yet she does.” Sissy said while crossing her arms. “She has less of a risk getting killed by me than she does ya’, and I ain’t even datin’ her.”

Johnny chuckled. “Ya’ right, I’ll give you that.”

“Just think about it, don’t shoot the idea down now.” Sissy said as she tapped the truck and began to walk back to the house.

Johnny shrugged and started to turn the truck around to leave. He was going to see Y/N, and he was excited, but not in the way you think. He was excited to get his hands on her body and rip her apart, but she had barely let him touch her, let alone kiss. It was still a fresh relationship, but the Slaughter boy never took anything slow. It was always fast and rough. Like many attributes of Johnny that you would come to know. He wanted to take her now. But she always insisted on waiting. He would play the waiting game, but there was no doubt that he was going to devour her.

He was tired of her being around other people. Her friends, her family, her coworkers, anyone. He wanted her to be around him and him only. He hated the hot white jealousy that licked away at his lower belly when he saw her interact with people other than him. It made him want to bash her fucking skull in for being so damn insensitive to his feelings. But he played nice, he played the perfect, goody-two shoes Southern boy role with disgust. No one ever noticed how his eyes were empty of all emotion when he smiled or how his face darkened at the talk of the murders that he had dabbled in. He felt like James Dean in a movie role that he was made for.

Putting a tape into the radio, he felt the goosebumps he felt on that life-changing day of December 25th, 1963. He was a very big fan of Ted Nugent, and he had many records and tapes to prove that. He learned how to play “Stranglehold” on guitar and many other Nugent classics that he held near and dear to his heart. To say he was a fan was an understatement, he moreso worshipped the musician.

But “Stranglehold” was something special. Despite the fact that it was his first song he had listened to from the music idol he favorited, he related to it on a primitive level. He and Ted had something in common, they wanted to both devour the girl in their life and let her know that she had nowhere else to go. Johnny wanted full control of her, he wanted her to know that she had absolutely no safety when she was around him. She would stay with him forever, she had nowhere else to run to.

Adrenaline pumping, his fists tightened around the wheel as he drove. He wanted to teach that bitch a lesson for making him wait so damn long for some pussy. He wanted to keep her all for himself. He wanted her now. He wanted her to go with him and never return home. She would be in his presence 24/7, and he would not feel the jealousy he felt when she talked to others but him. He chewed on his lip as his pupils began to expand. This song dug into some other part of Johnny that he did not know he had.

He did not understand why she was so special to him. Why he felt jealousy towards the people around her. Why he felt the need to keep her in his home. Why he felt the desire to even keep her alive. But here he was, listening to his favorite song and wondering about how her head would look like impaled on a fence pick.

They were supposed to hang out today at her house as her parents were gone on a trip. He wore his dark blue flares with a black shirt, a little reminiscent of his hunting outfit. He slicked his hair back to perfection and wore some bone jewelry Nubbins made him. It was easy for him to look good no matter what. That’s what brought in dinner, and dinner made the family happy. Family comes first, right?

Pulling into the driveway, Johnny sighed and glanced in the mirror one last time before getting out of his truck. He did not want to keep putting up his sweet country boy persona but he knew he had to. As annoying as it was, it lured everyone in. Made them believe the lies he spoke.

Knuckles rapping the door, he waited for her to come to his calling. He held no expression, his face at its natural state. As much as he tried to hide it, his natural face was very telling of who he was and what he was feeling. It was void of many attributes of what made a human being. It looked like it was an lifeless portrait.

As soon as she answered the door, his facial expression immediately changed. One that was grinning. “Hey sweet pea.”

She returned his smile. “Hey Johnny. Come in!”

Welcoming inside of her home, Johnny glanced around. He had been inside her home before, and he had the layout of it inside of his head. While she slept in her bed, he would wander around the house like a silent leopard. He was able to memorize all exit points.

He knew it was worth the trouble.

“So what’s the plan, babydoll?” He asked with a small smirk. He pulled her body flush to his as she blushed.

“I was thinking I make us some lunch and we can watch a movie. I got some tapes from the video store.” She said as Johnny peppered kisses on her face.

“How about no lunch and we get into the movie?” He lowered his hand to her ass, grabbing a handful. “Come on.”

She shook her head giggling. “No, Johnny. You already know the answer to that.”

His irritation had risen but he hid it well. “What’s the real reason, doll face? Ya’ been holdin’ out on me for months now.”

“I’m waiting until marriage. You know this.” She replied as Johnny sighed into her neck. She bit her lip, feeling a little guilty that she was holding out on Johnny, making him wait. He was a respectful and loving boyfriend, why should she make him wait?

But it was her choice. No one else’s.

“Guess I gotta’ marry ya’.” Johnny said with a small smile. “Keep ya’ away from everyone else too.”

She chuckled, not understanding what he was hinting at. This only made him smile wider. “Is someone jealous?”

His eye twitched, but she did not see. “Just don’t like other people around ya’.” Johnny said as he rested his hands on her waist. “That’s all.”

“Like who?” She asked jokingly.

“Everyone, doll face.” He replied back.

Still thinking he was joking, she giggled. “Why would you be jealous of everyone around me? You’re still my number one, Johnny.”

His eyes were now darkening and his facial expression was a little off-putting. Almost as if it was not Johnny, it was something else. “I want ya’ ta’ forever stay by my side. I don’t want anyone around ya’ but me.”

“Awww, you’re quite the romantic type.” She said as she burrowed her head into his shoulder.

He scoffed. “I don’t think yer’ understandin’ what I’m sayin’, I want to keep ya’ locked away. Be mine forever.”

The uneasiness began to settle in the pit of her stomach as she pulled away from Johnny for a moment. It was like looking at a stranger. His eyes were not inviting and warm like they once were, they were cold and void. His face was hardened, no smile or any emotion showing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Yer’ a smart girl.” He said lowly. “Piece it together, sunflower.”

Locked away forever? Away from everyone around her? She stepped back from him and he inched closer to her. His murderous aura was beginning to tense the room up. “You want me to be kept away from my friends and family?” She questioned, her fear being exposed through her words.

“Exactly. I hate everyone yer’ around. I want ya’ for myself, and only me.” Johnny now looked much scarier and bigger, his size increasing from what it seemed like to his girlfriend. “I want ta’ kill yer’ parents. Yer’ friends. I hate when they’re around ya’. Ya’ only need me.”

Breathing quickening, she continued to step back as her eyes were wide. Like a rabbit face-to-face with the wolf. Johnny flashed a smile, but it did not hold the same comfort it once did. “Johnny, I need you to leave.”

“Ain’t goin’ anywhere, doll.” He said back as he lunged for her. He narrowly missed her as she dodged his attack, barreling her way to the front door to leave her home. Her adrenaline pumped as Johnny trailed not so far behind her. “Ya’ better get back here ya’ bitch! If ya’ know what’s good for ya’!”

She picked up her pace faster, sprinting down the dirt road and screaming like a banshee for help. But to her dismay, not many people came down that road. It was her and Johnny.

Johnny hopped in his truck and quickly pulled out of her driveway. Pushing his foot as far as he could on the gas pedal, he sped after her. He smiled manically to himself. She was heading right into the direction of the Devil’s lair. The Sawyer home was not too far from hers, so this was going to be easy for him.

Panting and her sides in excruciating pain, she whipped her head back and forth to see how far Johnny was from her. He was pretty damn close to her, and she felt that it was quite unfair that he had the ability to chase her in his truck. Human legs were not always a match for a vehicle.

In the distance, she saw a sunflower field and a two-story home that brought her great relief. She could get help there. That was her way to safety. She quickly rerouted herself to go into the sunflower field making Johnny’s grin wider as he slammed his foot on the break. She was now in his territory. He knew those sunflower fields very well, unbeknownst to her.

The wolf lurched out of his truck and chased after his rabbit who had hopped into the maze of sunflowers. Breathing heavily and moving away the large stems out of her way, she hoped that she was able to escape Johnny this way, or at least throw him off of her path.

That was, until she didn’t hear any footsteps or scurrying behind her. She whipped her head around, attempting to catch her breath as well as look for Johnny, but she did not hear anything.

Just the birds chirping and the soft wind.

“Hey there!” Johnny laughed as he lunged at her from his position. She screeched, running in the opposite direction as he continued his chase once again.

It was not long as a sudden pain surged through her leg as she tumbled to the ground. Her yowling echoed in the field as Johnny smirked at her injured state. “Well well well, look at what the cat dragged in.”

She was caught in Nubbins’ trap. Tears streamed down her face from the amount of pain she was in. Her foot was mangled in the trap. She tried to back away from Johnny who inched closer to her, but it only made her pain worse.

“Sorry doll, it just had to be this way.” He said disappointingly as he kneeled down. “Don’t worry, when you wake up, you will feel better.”

Confused at his words, Johnny immediately slammed her head into the ground to knock her out. She was weak, it was too easy. Undoing the trap and setting it up once again, he picked up her limp body and carried her to his shed that the Sawyers kept on their property for his ‘guests’. As much as Drayton hated it, he did not want it in his home, so he made sure that Johnny kept them out. He made his way into his shack and wrapped her foot up hastily. He did not want to spend much time on her, he needed to prepare for his night.

‘You ran the night that you left me, put me in my place. Got you in a stranglehold baby, you better trust your faith.’

The ache chewed away at her, worsening when she awoke from her drowsy state. Her foot felt like it was searing, and it was extremely uncomfortable. Shifting around, she glanced around her surroundings and her heart dropped. It came flooding back to her where she was at.

Johnny had taken her hostage. Her limbs were tied up and she was laying on a dirty mattress with questionable stains. It was cold and dark. There were no signs of Johnny or anyone else for that matter. The structure she was in was small, almost like it was made to be a shed of some sort. A shed with hardly any light filtering in from the moon and with freezing temperatures.

She shivered while she looked around for an exit point. The door was locked shut and there was one small window. Not that she could fit through it. Attempting to stand up, she gritted her teeth in pain as she tried to walk on her bad foot. She landed right on her butt. It was too painful to get around. Her head throbbed from him slamming it into the ground.

Her thoughts went to her parents, her friends. She did not want to die here. Not from the hands of him. Someone who she trusted, loved. Someone she thought she had a future with. Her eyes watered at the fact that he had betrayed her.

But she could not weep for long as the door began to jiggle, and there was a sound of a key entering the key hole. Wipe her tears away, she looked as the Slaughter boy opened the door. He had a smirk on his face as he approached his piece of meat.

“I see yer’ awake, doll. Ya’ ready to meet the family?” He asked her as kneeled down in front of her. She glared at him, her eyes swimming with anger. “Awwe, don’t give me that look, pretty girl.” He held the back of his hand to her face and she moved her head away. How dare he touch her.

“Come on, let’s get ya’ up.” He said as he cut the rope around her ankles and pulled her up, making her practically scream at the weight she put on her injured foot.

“I can’t walk.” She said aggressively as she moved away from Johnny.

He rolled his eyes. “Figure it out, doll. I ain’t carryin’ ya.”

Limping and fighting back tears, she attempted to walk beside him. It was so painful. Blood oozed out of her wound, and the corners of her vision began to blacken. Johnny pulled her along faster, grumbling about her taking her sweet time, and the pain increased. She felt dizzy. She could not run from Johnny now, not in this condition.

He pulled her inside the house, leading her to the dining room where his family sat. Sissy whistled when her brought her to the table, forcing her to sit as he tied her to the chair.

“Ya’ really did pick a purty’ one, Johnny.” She purred as she eyed his girlfriend. “Ma’ names Sissy. I’ve never had a sister before.”

“Oh stop it, Sissy.” Johnny said flatly. “Now yer’ just kissin’ ass.”

Sissy frowned. “Rather it be that way than for me ta’ try cuttin’ her up.” The woman’s heart rate increased and her eyes began to dart around.

“Ya’ wouldn’t try nothin’.” said the Slaughter boy with a glare. “Not on my watch.”

“Be quiet both of ya’! Sit down and eat dinner.” Cook yelled at the two ‘siblings’. “This girl is more trouble than she’s worth.”

“Oh keep it quiet, old man.” Johnny snapped. “Ya’ couldn’t get it up if ya’ even wanted to. Don’t stick yer’ nose in my business.”

Nubbins doubled over in laughter while Bubba wrung his hands anxiously. Drayton’s face turned red as he narrowed his eyes at the young man. “Wait until yer’ mother finds out about yer’ foolishness! Ya’ created a mess for yerself’ Johnny!”

“It ain’t any of yer’ business.” Johnny stabbed into the unknown meat on his plate with a knife. “Don’t fuck with me and piss me off before dinner, old man.”

Drayton shut up and stared at his dinner plate angrily. The tension in the room was suffocating. She felt awkward. Johnny nudged her plate towards her while he chewed on a piece of meat. “Don’t be shy.”

Nausea twisted in her stomach as she grimaced. “I can’t.”

“Yes ya’ can. Try it.” He said encouragingly.

“What is it?” She asked, almost not wanting to know.

Nubbins giggled while Sissy grinned, exchanging a look with the twin. “Just try it sweetheart.”

Johnny stabbed in a chunk and held it to her lips. “Open wide, doll face.”

Not wanting to upset them this early, she bit into a small piece of it. She chewed slowly, tasting the seasonings and flavor.

Johnny couldn’t help his wide, sadistic smile on his face. “It’s good, isn’t it sweetheart?”

She nodded, swallowing it completely. “What is it?”

If his grin could get wider, then it definitely did. “Nothin’ much, just someone’s liver.”

Her face paled. Bile had risen up in her throat and she threw up on the table. Sissy recoiled back and Drayton looked at the girl like she was disgusting. “Now ya’ threw up all over dinner!”

She coughed and held her head down. Johnny t’sked as he shook his head. “Way to go. Now yer’ just bein’ ungrateful.”

Sissy approached her with a napkin, attempting to wipe away the bile from her face until Johnny grabbed her wrist harshly. “Now what do ya’ think yer’ doin’?”

“Cleanin’ her up since ya’ ain’t bein’ a gentleman.” Sissy replied with a roll of her eyes. “Why? Is that a problem?”

“Get yer’ filthy hands off of her. Ya’ ain’t allowed to touch her.” Johnny smacked at Sissy’s hands while she pulled away.

Sissy crossed her arms. “What are ya’ afraid of, Johnny? It’s not like I’m hurtin’ her.”

“Don’t act like yer’ sunshine and rainbows. Yer’ just as fucked up as the rest of us, Sissy. Cut the act.” Johnny was now angry.

Her eyebrows furrowed, and she clenched her jaw. “How about ya’ stop keepin’ her to yerself’ and start sharin’ the meat ya’ bring! She ain’t nothin’ else to ya’ but somethin’ to fuck.”

“Are ya’ jealous or just being bitchy?” Johnny asked with a huff. “It ain’t yer’ business what I’m doin’.”

They began to bicker back and forth. She felt herself spin as their voices got louder and louder. There was a piece of wood sticking out behind the chair that she began to rub the rope back and forth across. If it could cut through the rope, she would be free. All she had to do was bolt out the front door. If she could find it.

'Some people think they gonna die someday. I got news you never got to go.'

Their yells ensued to screams, ones that caused Bubba to rock back and forth while crying and Drayton to scream at them to shut up. Her ears rung, and the rope gave way. Waiting for the right moment, she pushed Sissy harshly out of the way, making her land on the ground.

“Get back ’ere!” Sissy screeched as she quickly got up from the floor to chase Johnny’s girlfriend. Johnny trailed after her, telling Sissy to leave it to him. She limped to the front door and unlocked it quickly, swinging it open and hitting Sissy and Johnny in the face. They both hit the floor, stunned and staring up at the ceiling as Drayton screamed at Bubba to get his chainsaw and Nubbins to chase her.

She ran, well, what she could only describe as running. Her ankle hurt terribly, blood coating the cloth Johnny had wrapped around it. Every step shot pain up her leg, but she was running on adrenaline. She screamed as loud as she could for help, but all she heard back was her own echoes and the revving of Bubba’s chainsaw. She continued to wail as Johnny started to catch up to her.

"Gotcha!" he yelled as he pulled her close to him and started to fight with her. She wrestled him as much as she good, putting all of her weight on her injured ankle despite how much distress the injury was in. More blood seeped out and stained the dirt road. Bubba's revving got closer and closer the more they continued to fight. Johnny grinned manically at her, grunting and taunting her while she wrestled him off. She was able to push him to the ground, sprinting off right before Sissy could slash her with her knife. Sissy yelled at Johnny to get his lazy ass up off the ground and continued the chase that Johnny couldn't seem to catch up with.

As much as he liked to play games, this one had more fight in her than he thought. She had never showed this side of her when they were dating. At least, not to this extent. Recovering from yet another stun, Johnny got to his feet and narrowed his eyes. He needed to put an end to it now. This was beginning to only piss him off more since Drayton decided to ruin their dinner with his two cents.

He started the chase again, sprinting as fast as he could and breathing heavily. He had to catch up with his prey and Sissy, and he hoped that Sissy wouldn't take his kill. She was his, not hers.

"That'll teach ya' ta' fuckin' push me!" Sissy said with a laugh as she slashed her knife at the girl, making her adrenaline peak more and more. Her wounds oozed red liquid that trailed behind her, and she felt the edges of her vision darken. She did not want to die here; she did not want to die at the hands of her captors. She had almost reached the edge of the property, and she had the entire family chasing her down. Even Drayton was in it, he was just last compared to his family, and he was screeching like a banshee to kill her.

Sissy grabbed her, but she turned around quickly to fight off the woman. Wrestling her like she did Johnny, she launched Sissy to the ground before taking off again. Sissy stared up at the night sky for a second before recollecting herself. Johnny passed her and teased her. "Guess ya' gettin' lazy too." She wanted to punch the Slaughter boy in the face for creating a huge mess.

She had now crossed over the edge of the Sawyer property. Lungs heavy and the pain hitting her, she felt weakened. But she was not out of the radar yet. She continued to run, as well as scream for help, as Johnny trailed behind her. The rest of the family did not follow him off the property. They knew that whatever took place outside of the property was something they did not need to witness. He was never nice with his punishments.

Suddenly, she was rolling on the ground with Johnny, dirt flying everywhere as he tackled her. He sat on top of her and held her arms down. She felt so angry. She was so close to escaping, yet here she was now. Underneath Johnny who stared down at her like a hungry wolf.

"You and your entire family are crazy! Let me go, Johnny!" She fought against his grip on her arms.

"Can't do that, sunshine." He said back, his facial features almost consumed in darkness. But she could still see those eyes. "Ya' caused a lot of trouble tonight. Too much. I thought ya' would be different."

Her heart dropped at his words. "There were more before me?"

"Did ya' really think I was some sort of virgin boy? Of course, there were more before ya', there was plenty." He smiled at her, but it was empty. "I just thought ya'd be different. I wished ya' were different."

"I would never stay with you. I would rather die than to be held captive by you! You are crazy!" She retorted back while her face scrunched up. Disgust filled her body. To think this was the man she wanted to marry one day, have a future with. And this is what he did to her.

His eyes darkened and he frowned. He grabbed her by the hair and held his hunting knife up to her throat. "Watch yer' mouth, girl. Ya' suddenly forget that I can easily kill ya'." Johnny did have a good point, and she whimpered quietly when he pressed the knife deeper to her throat. Her wide eyes locked with his, fear swimming in them. He felt goosebumps rise on his skin from seeing the fear. It was something he liked to see on his victims.

Johnny moved the knife away from her throat and smiled again. "There girl, don'tcha worry now." His gloved hand caressed the side of her face. "You'll come around; I promise ya' that. But I can't promise ya' that my family won't try to kill ya'. Ya' gave them a headache."

'You created it yourself,' she thought to herself when Johnny got to his feet and pulled her up. Her ankle yowled in pain. She did not want to go back to the Devil's Lair. She could not. Not when she got so far. Johnny did not make an effort to help her along, and she took another opportunity. Elbow ready, she rammed it straight into his crotch, making Johnny double over in pain. "God-fuckin' dammit!"

She took off again in the opposite direction, still screaming for help as she limped along. She wanted to get away no matter what. Despite how much agony her body was in and how much blood dripped from her wounds, she could not let them win. Johnny was in pain, but he was now aggravated. He had given her many chances to play nice, but she took advantage of his kindness. All because she wanted to control the situation. He did not like that.

He stumbled towards her direction to ease the pain that did not seem to let up. He knew he would have to tough this one out. He could not let his prey escape. Starting to jog, he trailed after her. He would catch up to her one way or another.

And he did. He tackled her once more to the ground, his hands wrapping around her throat and squeezing. He had a snarl on his lips as he tightened his grip. Choking out, she clawed at Johnny's hands and face to try to loosen his grip. But he only made it worse.

"This will be the last time ya' try to two-time me." Johnny muttered as he stared her down. "I wish it was different. I really do. But ya' made me do this."

Her eyes fluttered as she felt all the air escape her lungs. She could never escape him. Why did she think she could? Johnny Slaughter hardly let his prey get away.

Choking again, her arms splayed out next to her and her vision and hearing fading in and out, she was defeated.

With a crunch, Johnny snapped her neck. He breathed hard as he looked at his beautiful creation. He was an artist himself. He knew deep down inside she was worth all the trouble. But it was time to feed the family. He knew he owed it to them.

Picking up her limp body, he lifted her over his shoulder and began to walk back to the Sawyer house. There was never a chase he didn’t end up enjoying. No matter how much trouble they caused.

‘I got you in a stranglehold baby. That night I crushed your face.’

[stargirlie-sharon]

Would you redraw this screenshot but with the rescue team as yanderes?

Could you also do some yandere headcanons?https://www.tumblr.com/stargirlie-sharon/732048389323309056/twcw-mentions-of-murder-and-yandere-ness-some

this has been in my drafts for way too long sorry 😭😭 also apologies but i don't do art requests, but you can have these headcanons! hope you like them. ^^

without further ado, let's get to it!

Yandere Rescue Team Headcanons

Fandom: Robocar Poli

Ft. Poli, Roy, Amber

Content: Headcanons, yandere themes, obsesssion, romantic, but can be read as platonic. Mentions of murder, murder cover-ups, violence, manipulation. Gender neutral darling (and it's not explicitly stated that it's the reader, so feel free to imagine them as whoever you want!)

A/N: Helly will be excluded from this (since he is a child/teen), and I'd prefer to not to write him here. I'd also like to point out that if you're not comfortable with reading something, then you don't need to read it! It's totally fine if a certain genre of something isn't your cup of tea! Dividers by dollywons, and RT headers by me.

Poli

Oh, how he adores his darling. They're simply the cutest thing to him!

He likes being around them, often standing by at a close distance, or watching his sweetheart from afar when they don't even realise it. He wants to make sure they're safe. As long as they're with him, no one will hurt them.

And if they try, they'll certainly regret it.

A guard dog at heart. Devoted to its owner to death, and will fight to keep them safe.

If he senses a threat that could put his darling at risk, he'll neutralize said threat with whatever method he can get his hands on. With a gun, blade, or if he's really feeling enraged (or just doesn't have anything left), he'll just use himself as weapon (and i'll let you interperet that for yourself). Regardless of how messy the scene is, he'll clean up the crime scene spotless, and to the best of his abilities. However...

If Poli happened to miss a spot, and someone reports to him that there's a blood stain somewhere or a lone weapon, he'd pretend to go investigate it, and then play it as a misunderstanding or prank by someone.

But honestly, he would rather let the world burn if it meant keeping his love in his arms forever.

He'd go out of his way to break the law for you, ignoring his job as an officer, just to see you aafe and happy. Even at the cost of someone's life.

Roy

He puts his love and their needs before himself. He would lay down his life for them, and is just so fiercely loyal when it comes to his dearest.

He knows that his obsession has gone over the roof, but he shows no sign of stopping it. It's unhealthy and he's aware of it, but he can't help himself.

Wants to show his love in whatever way he can. Expect sweet gestures or gifts from him often. At first, it would seem really nice of him, but as time goes on, it starts to seem like he's seeking for their validation and love at an obsessive level.

Roy's world revolves around his love. They are the center of his universe, and nothing else matters to him other than his sweetheart.

He is the least intense yandere compared to Poli and Amber, so you could say he leans on the soft yandere side, but he can be dangerous if the time really calls for it.

In contrast to his usually gentle nature, he can get very violent if his darling is hurt, and whoever messed with them will be damned.

Amber

Amber knows the most effective ways to eliminate someone. And cover up the murder. After all, nobody would expect the sweet Broomstown medic to be the one behind such incidents.

She may seem like the most sane and normal of the three... but no. She is nowhere close to it. She is outright insane for her darling. She just does a very good job at concealing her unhingedness.

She showers her sweetheart with as much affection they can handle. She cherishes every moment with them, and savors every smile. They're practically Amber's reason for living.

Also, they get hurt, not only will she treat their injuries, she's bound to kiss the pain away.

With her being a medic, she's probably had to deal with certain substances and poisons, so she knows her way around things like that. But not only does she know how to treat it, she also knows how to use it on others.

She'd try to stray from messy, more bloody ways of elimination, and aim for more cleaner tactics. Poison, toxins or drug-infused drinks or foods, anything that doesn't leave behind a trail of blood.

But if she really wanted to, she isn't afraid to get her hands a little dirty.

Amber being angry is scary enough. But her being mentally unstable too? Her insane side really shines through when mad. Also, she laughs. She laughs when she's absolutely livid, and you already know that's a bad sign.. (and I personally hc her to possibly be the most terrifying of the yanderes here. also i love insane medics)

i. am. SO SORRY this was literally here since last year holy cheese sticks. i was putting this in my drafts so when i got the spark of motivation to continue writing this came back i'd post this. and i have finally posted it, even though i could've already finished this months ago. thank you for reading. bye

[writerofstuff]

Hi, I'm one of your feral commenters on your fic "The Case of Richard Rowland" (spectacular work btw), just wanted to give you an update on the possible comic I mentioned in my ch 7 comment;

I'm 85% done thumbnailing the whole chapter (and dying about it) , it's the first first draft if you will.

I knew it was gonna be so so difficult, for many reasons, one of them being that I know absolutely nothing about comics, I don't even read any except manga.

Unsurprisingly, it's even more difficult than I thought, especially since I'm trying to adapt the animation I imagined of your chapter into a medium that is, imo, much more limiting.

Rn I'm just putting everything down, bit like brainstorming really, once that's done I'll dive into research and ref gathering on how to make comics, then I'll refine what I have, make another thumbnail, and then I'll draw a first sketch w/o colors.

If you want (it's completely fine if you're not interested), I wouldn't mind showing you the first sketch once I have it, since idk if I'll be capable of finishing the whole thing lol

(plz don't get your hopes up too high, I draw once every 84 years and I never manage to finish a single piece :')), additionally, this will be my first comic, so it's not gonna be state of the art;;;)

I hope it's alright that I contacted you about this, I'm abysmal at online social interaction so I apologize if this is awkward/uncomfortable, I assure you I'm not going to harass you about my project;; just letting you know I was serious;;;

Hope you're doing good and having a nice time :)

Oh my god.

Please know that I would love to so see the first sketch of your comic. It would be my absolute honour. My mind is honestly blown; it doesn't matter whether your art is finished or unfinished or half-finished. Just the fact that you thought of it? That you started planning it? It already means everything.

If you are comfortable sharing, I would love to see your art, in any and all its forms. And please do not hesitate to contact me here or at ao3 for anything at all - I am always up for a conversation! This is honestly the best thing I have ever woken up to. This means a lot.

All the very very best for your project! I am not a professional artist, but I have read a lot of manga and also handdrawn a couple of comics in my own time, so if there is any way I could help, I am all here! Thank you so much for putting in such effort for my small messy fic on ao3 - I honestly cannot wrap my head around it, except that this is the best thing ever. Thank you.

I hope you are having a lovely time too! Please take care, and have a great day!

♡

[awaitinganorphanera]

Who was going to tell me that in order to produce a fic I actually have to write it >:((((( ??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE WORDS DONT JUST APPEAR IN THIN AIR IF I STARE AT THE BLINKING CURSOR LONG ENOUGH WITH MY BRAIN FILLED WITH SO MUCH IDEAS RAHHHH !!!!

Anyway, I just wanted to share a small tidbit of a Hanahaki au CobyMeppo fic/draft/idea/prompt/shitty compilation of words that barely make sense that I've been working on since FEBRUARY but never fucking finished and am currently still struggling to even continue as embarrassing as that sounds because idk whether its cohesive or good enough to even share on Ao3 Its just the idea of Helmeppo developing and struggling through Hanahaki disease would be so neat imo due to how most CobyMeppo shippers head cannon Helmeppo's feelings being unrequited at first (or not at all) and how he just adores Koby so fucking much that he becomes so ruined. I cant. Apologies if the structured and the way it's told is messy and incoherent, I've added the lil space in the indent thingy to depict a different part of the fic since im not very good at transitioning. I haven't written anything in so long and I wanted to pump so much bits that I didn't even weave anything properly so, HERE IT IS: (a lot of it IS corny and a bit cheesy so be forewarned akjsjasjsa)

Koby always liked flowers. Surely then, Helmeppo thought, Koby would like him too. Helmeppo, who dwelled within his prickly walls, each barbed with Rose thorns. Helmeppo, with his muddled virtues, swelling and desiccated like stains from Poppy sap. Helmeppo, with a chest riddled with budding blossoms, all watered by his desolate, weeping heart. Could such qualities appeal to the man he grew to love? Perhaps, Helmeppo thought, and perhaps too, he should have known better.  Known when his feelings had begun to develop into something more than simple tolerance, more than respect, more than adoration and even more than intense attachment to the pink-haired boy. At least then, he would have prepared for the worst. Or at least… That's what he assumed when the worst began. It was a blur, how it started. Helmeppo was always self-aware, extremely conscious of his feelings. He knew of jealousy, anger, longing, all traits that contributed and resulted from his desperate and gnawing want to appease his father. His father, of course. His own blood and bones, the same person who probably caused the beginning of all– this. Was it really a surprise? Helmeppo couldn't think of any fucked up thing in his life that hadn't ultimately been caused by Morgan. He grew to learn how to read the room, read the faces, read the tones, he grew to know his father's thoughts without actually knowing anything about his father's feelings. Did he even feel? Feel for his son? No. Of course not. The only thing Morgan could feel for him was apathy.  Sometimes, Helmeppo wished his father hate him instead, wished that he was worth hitting. At least then, he would have experienced treatment that came with passion and effort, treatment that resulted from feeling, treatment that made him feel at the barest, like he meant something.  The lack of care and lack of anything that Morgan bothered to show to his son was barely even the surface of reasons why Helmeppo is even suffering through this. The cause that made Helmeppos brain chemistry rewire and for his damn neuromodulators to rearrange. To see something as small as a single act of genuine care be perceived as a trick, a lie, a dream that he’d so desperately want to fall into and relive despite the possible consequences. He should have recognized how unhealthy and apparently not normal these thoughts were, should have known that his emotions are unstable and too much, should have seen how horrific he grew to be. But even then, Helmeppo thought, would that have done anything to prevent the illness he'd eventually succumb to?

Of all the horrors in Helmeppo’s life, he would have thought that seeds growing inside his lungs would have been the most and hopefully (though doubtedly, considering his luck in life) last traumatic event that would truly, bring him to ruin. But of course, the world, just like how Helmeppo always found himself to be, would never have enough, and just like the breaths he was left to breathe, would leave him dwindling in the years to come. It started as a blur, again, just like any day in the ship he found himself settled in. A gift. He thought, better than what life offered him when he woke up back in shells town. Or at least that's what he’s been telling himself.  Morgan was cruel, sure, but at least he was familiar. He was easier to navigate, easier to chart and read and hide from.  He couldn’t do this here, when things still felt new. He knew of Garp and his capabilities, but he didn’t know the limits of his patience, he had no clue what and how many things would warrant the usage of his fist. He knew of the shady business of the Navy and the World Government, knew of its structure and how it works; the tutors paid by his father made sure of that much, but he never got to live through it.

SOMEONE PLEASE GIVE ME TIPS ON HOW TO TRANSITION PARTS IN WRITING, I SUCK ASS AND AM OPEN TO CRITIQUES AHJSJAS

[seeingteacupsindragons]

Um hi!! Aspiring writer here I just wanted to ask if you had any tips on actually getting down what you want your story to be about and forming a general framework for the plot and events?

I have so so many ideas but they stay ideas because I have no clue how to go from there?

Thank you thank you if you do decide to answer and apologies if im bothering you or its a bad time but I think you’re writings very neat and conveys emotions and characters very well so i wanted your input!

Hi! Thank you for compliments, etc. I appreciate that a lot, and emotion and character are really what I think I’m best at.

Structure (framework) and plot are…well, not, but I’ve been working really hard at getting better at these things lately, so I’ll see if I can’t come up with something to give you a hand.

Generally, my writing starts with a story “seed.” This is basically a character and a concept. They look something like “modern fairy tale with an aro ace witch protagonist” (actual story I have written) or, like, “teenage boy finds himself magically bound to a wizard and forced to obey him” (other actual story).

Sometimes this seed is from a prompt or something floating around in my head as a good idea. Sometimes this seed is from the first couple random paragraphs of something I wrote just to write something—it’s hard to write a couple of solid paragraphs without A Character in A Situation.

So for that first story seed, the first couple paragraphs of “modern fairy tale with the aro ace witch” I started with “witch protagonist hanging out on a broom and contemplating a couple and wondering how he could play the role of a fairy tale witch about them.” Because…I don’t know, that was just the first stuff I typed, and it seemed fun to have a witch actually intentionally playing their role in fairy tales?

And then I just keep spinning the Scenario for a while, making stuff up as a I go along. Okay, he’s on a broom above the sky, what if he also has a familiar, what is the familiar saying, what kind of ideas is the protagonist having, how does he even know these people, etc., etc., etc.

And then once I have enough building blocks of just playing improve on a seed for a bit, I take a look at what’s there and what I can do with it. Switching stories here, basically, I have things like, “Oh, only the teenagers are doing anything to fight back against the magical disasters destroying their city…this sounds like a climate change metaphor.” Or, “Hmmm, I have this situation where the characters’ own passions are negatively affecting them…sounds like they have an unhealthy relationship with art/work/etc.” Sometimes this happens mid-first draft. Sometimes this happens after I have a full draft that was created entirely on playing “yes and” with a scenario.

Once I’ve identified these bits and pieces that seem like they’re threaded into the story in multiple places and what’s standing out to me as prominent in the story, it’s time to make sure everyone else sees them. Plot points that are distracting or don’t contribute to a thread get cut. New ones get added to say something else about the topic, or changed to really emphasize a point I want to make or to clarify what was happening, or to sew various story parts together.

In the book I’m writing at the moment, the first draft had this plot arc about a secret underground coven that like, worshiped the main character’s people. It got cut, because while I thought I was going to say a lot about putting people on pillars and how it’s unhealthy, I didn’t really have anywhere for that thread to go, it was kind of messy and weird, and a lot of stuff I wanted to do worked better when I shifted it to focus more on the main character learning to work with people who were resistant to him and bolstering another character and incorporating their opinions into the Discussion—and also I had some idea of where to go with the latter and not the former.

Let’s take a story seed is about the second daughter of a royal family becoming queen, because I haven’t written this story, dangit.

There’s not really any plot points in that seed. Maybe one way toward the end of the book!

So you need to add some more stuff to get it going. Let’s open with her hanging out with her best friend who’s the first son of an Earl.

Now we have a lot. We have plot points about whatever they’re talking about or doing while hanging out—what activities they like to do, or what’s going around them. And, I’ve got a ready-made juxtaposition in there for their succession stories and how they happen and the challenges they face and the story is now about, idk, coming into power or coming into responsibility, or growing up, or facing expectations and what you do about them. And I can use all of that stuff from the first sentence of the paragraph to emphasize those bits.

If they’re about coming into responsibility, you get to write plot points where the two discover all the things their ancestors have been managed silently and behind the scenes (how are they told this? Are they also managing things silently? Like what?). If it’s about what you’re going to do with power, you add in a plot line about them discovering how their parents failed (how do they discover it—is it something they mentioned doing or were seen doing?).

Each of those subplots (and if you’re writing about growing into responsibility, there’s a lot of different ways that manifest and each can have its own subplot branch) branches out into more and more ideas and things you can do to emphasize each point and say what you want to say about whatever the plot/theme is.

I don’t know where you are in your ideas you can’t write down—if you just have a seed, or you have a seed and one theme/point/thing you want to write about and don’t know how to actually branch that into plot points. I think you’re at the latter. So what I say here is: the plot points you pick/choose/write are the ones that seem like they’re going to give you something to say about it and contribute to what you want to say.

If you want to write about growing into power, maybe you don’t need that plot point about our princess sneaking out to hang out with the Enemy, but you do need a scene where she teaches her younger sisters. Hanging out with the Enemy might fit better in a story where she’s learning how to heal political rifts. If the story you’re writing is about both, cool! You can figure out a way to have one or two of those scene do double duty as both and then keep both scenes. Maybe you don’t need a scene where she learns how to handle a sword in favor of a ball where she’s introduced as the heir apparent.

And then there’s…well…how things get resolved says a lot about the topic, you know? If you have a character with an abusive mom, and at the end she forgives her mother, that Says Something Different than if she cuts dies with her mom. And what is says depends on a lot of details, of course, but it’s really important to keep in mind that how the story ends really is your final statement on the matter.

I…hope this helped? I think I answered your question anyway. This is about where I’m at with my writing and how I’m trying to make it work, anyway.

[devondespresso]

This breakdown is EVERYTHING op!! super super super good advice and better phrasing than i could come up with for sure hfadjklhfdsk

There's one part of the ask that stuck out as super familiar to me, so I wanted to drop my thoughts in too going as deep as i can into that aspect, because at least for me, it was a huge huge part of getting myself to actually write and finish things.

The "I know that a first draft is allowed to be messy and imperfect, but I keep feeling that if I let myself do that and not aim for perfection the first time, I'm being lazy or lowering my standards" part. Or basically, when perfectionism is more self-motivated than externally-motivated and really hard to talk yourself out of, the part of creating where even if you never shared the thing, it'd still bug you because you know its not what you wanted it to be. (and the part i find rears its head the most with my first drafts)

(cut because this gets long, apologies in advance sykdjydjtjtd)

It stopped me from finishing stuff for so so so long, not just writing but every kind of creativity. I think (at least my experience) we as artists can hold this illusion that our perfectionism is giving us the upper hand. I had this sort of back-of-my-mind belief that because I could see all these things wrong with my work, i could fix them all, like a heightened awareness that'd let me reach perfection in my art, specifically. That i can make this thing perfect, i can be the exception that reaches that the level of perfection everyone else tells me not to worry about. If I just trust this innate feeling, if i just work hard enough towards this standard I know I can reach.

And its very human, the whole idea of not really believing something until its been proven. It's really really hard, especially living in a world where we're raised on the idea that working "hard enough" is the key to all success, to a theoretical point of perfection we can imagine, that feels so close because we know in theory exactly how to get there. And its even more difficult when you have the accompanying feeling that the absence of working "hard enough" is laziness, is slipping, is losing that special something you were relying on to make your art feel worth existing, even just to yourself.

A lot of posts out there explain how perfection isn't real, the first draft is allowed to be messy (allowed being a keyword to me, like its optional), that artists need to forgive ourselves for mistakes, all that stuff, but at first (at least for me), it felt like coddling. (a lot of that from my end definitely came from growing up in the conservative southern us but it's not exclusive to that experience) The sentiments felt sweet, I'd encourage them heavily for everyone else, but deep down it felt like a participation trophy kinda thing. like something solely said to make people feel better, something that didn't apply to people trying to make something truly exceptional, something i could say to myself when I'm down, but wasn't a universal truth because i knew i could theoretically get perfection.

Im not saying you're anything like this, i genuinely have no way to know, this is just my experience. But just in case any part of this is relevant to you, the thing that helped me be able to really just create again was a mindset shift in what makes art good, what I'm trying to do with my art, plus actually proving to myself that perfectionism isnt helping me and that im not lowering my standards by changing my mindset.

This is the mindset I came up with:

perfection in art isn't just unachievable, its not really real. Art is completely subjective, everyone has a different definition of what is good, and fandoms honestly a really good example of how subjective everything really is, because no opinion in fandom is universal. My favorite piece of art of all time, and the one thing i consider closest to perfection as physically possible (Arcane), still has people that hate it, and still absolutely has its flaws.

Perfection is a feeling, not a thing. Usually applied to the stuff we make ourselves, because we're not sure what else we're measuring by. So you can't really use it as your metric of "good", It depends on your mood, what you're comparing it to, what you imagine other people think, and literally if you've eaten enough today. its too inconsistent, its an unstable variable and that makes it a shit guidepoint.

The remedy to this is what op suggested towards the end, looking deeper into yourself and your writing to find the specifics your after when you want something to be "perfect", you gotta find your goal, guidepoint, metric, whatever word fits. You can find it by invesitaging the reason you like art, deciding the moral or theme or point of your story, what the appeal of the idea you want to translate to a story, or something else entirely. that can be as nebulous or concrete or vague or abstract as you want, it can change depending on the fic or it can be a connective tissue among all you work. It doesn't need to be in words, or it can be a bunch of phrases and ideas that only you really understand together. I don't really have mine down in words very well, but in general, my love of art comes from a love of humanity, feeling things and being complicated, the human experience being subjective and varied, and how the audience connects with aspects of humanity recreated in fiction. super vague, hopefully not too pretentious sounding dhmxmhxnhxgnx

Then you need to find a way to prove to yourself that perfection, the illusion that you can achieve it if you try hard enough, and the feeling that a lack of perfection is some kind of moral failing, is all just feelings. they're there, they're real and that's not a fault or a bad thing, but they're not truths about the world. That its smarter to use something else, something more grounded (both more measurable and forgiving)

(( Im trying to walk the line between phrasing things like an advantage to your skill (because for me that was the only way to get me to entertain this kind of thing) and like a forgiveness you owe yourself, but it really is both. being kind to yourself will not damage your work's quality, its taking the boot off your neck so you can run free. ))

The way I proved to myself that perfectionism isn't a solid metric was to look at something i liked, something I had on a pedestal (id recommend not your past successful fics just because that can get demoralizing fast, but technically it could count) with the same critical lens i applied to my own art, and then (this is the important part) see those flaws and see how good it is anyway. it takes concious effort, but you see something flawed and you ask why its still so loveable anyway? what about this story/art do I still love? Is it inspiring emotion (what emotions?) is it making me feel seen, depicting a human experience, is it the honesty or the idealism or the catharsis or the magic? Is it the technicalities, the way peices fit together, is it the suspense, the tension, or the adrenaline and triumph from all these cool moments. (or it's something entirely different!! something that hasn't crossed my mind but you know personally)

Something you can look at as a whole, with all positive and negative traits accounted for, and appreciate as an incredible work of art. To recontextualize your own art with a more accurate lens (without the negative bias that is "this is my work and therefore it has to be good to deserve to exist"), and give you a more objective understanding of what you're doing when you want to make something good.

You don't have to get rid of the perfectionism feeling entirely if you don't want to (i certainly haven't) but the bitch needs to be demoted. severely. I still use my perfectionism like a metal detector. After i get a complete draft down, i go in and use it to search for spots i think need work. follow that gut feeling around and dig around a little when it blinks, but understand that sometimes it goes off for the most inconsequential things or maybe its got a low battery or something. wacky equipment.

And when i do find something, i can use the more specific metric of good (the goal, etc) to determine if its actually in need of fixing. Going in again with that perfection-is-an-impossible-metric bit, sometimes in order to "fix" something you end up complicating other things and you trap yourself in a loop of fixing problems you create by trying to fix the one tiny problem. So you reference the goal for what you want your writing to be to decide what aspects are most important to that. I was watching this video explaining a pretty weak subplot in Arcane and what they could've done to fix it, and it was a huge point of the video that fixing this subplot would probably ruin a lot with the more important plots and characters. It works as is because even though it has its flaws, its not important enough to take priority over other parts of the story.

(also if you like analyzing writing i highly recommend Schnee, the channel i linked, he's extremely good at analysis but never gets pretentious about it, its all sincerely about the love of art, and that makes it easier to refocus on your love of art!)

as for the draft thing, thats another thing you kinda have to prove to yourself. that the first draft isn't the final fic, isn't representative of what your fics gonna end up as. im less sure of how to go about proving that part to yourself mostly because everyone's best drafting process is entirely different. I could tell you that my 'first draft' is almost always incomprehensible, sometimes downright awful, and that my fics only ever start being "good" to me after I've gotten into editing, but im not sure i come across like a reputable writer to you dukdkydkyxum i can recommend looking into the processes of writers or the processes for works you admire and saving little details in your brain for when you feel like your writing isn't living up to your expectations fast enough. (one of my favorites is a little tidbit that arcane spent like 2 whole years in the writers room. I cant even remember if thats factual anymore but just the idea that it did take a whole team of people a long time to put it together makes me feel better about taking forever to get my longfic sounding right)

I wish you the best of luck anon!! i promise you're harsher on your writing than any decent reader would be, and there is so much magic in what you make, a unique mix of perspective and experience and creativity that is individual to you, and your stories deserves to exist however you'd like them to.

also thanks to literally anybody that read down this far fhaklhfdsfhdjk hoping this makes like. any sense fhalhfdkjfsdjkal

Hey! First, thank you for running this blog; it's a treasure trove of great advice. Second, may I ask some?

Lately, I've been having a hard time writing due to psyching myself out. I keep thinking about past fics I've written that turned out great with a lot of praise for my style, and I'm constantly feeling that anything new I write won't be as good and live up to the standards my past fics have set. I know that a first draft is allowed to be messy and imperfect, but I keep feeling that if I let myself do that and not aim for perfection the first time, I'm being lazy or lowering my standards. I want to just cut loose and write, but I'm having a hard time getting past this mental block. Any suggestions?

You've got a lot of very complicated feelings going on, anon, and I just want to give you a hug 💗 Let's see if we can break this down a bit, okay?

You've written well-received fics in the past and you're worried that your new fics won't be well-received. Where is this worry coming from? What's at the root of it? If your next fic doesn't receive the same praise that your previous ones received, how will that impact you?

I think it's always important to keep in mind that a lack of praise is not the same thing as the presence of disapproval. Just because no one says you did a good job, that doesn't mean you did a bad job. You say that your past fics turned out great. If you hadn't received the praise that you got, would you think they had turned out poorly?

What standard have you set with your past fics? If your standard is related to the amount of comments and kudos you received, you're setting yourself up for failure. I've written before about how the stats on your fic are largely out of your control and that if you focus on them too much you might need to find a way to a healthier relationship with them.

Who else is aware of this standard and is measuring you against it? Readers tend to focus more on tags and summaries than on specific authors when they're looking for something to read. Readers who have subscribed to you won't be looking at the numbers on your fic. They'll be reading the chapters and enjoying your words. Other authors might feel competitive with you, but that's their own issue to handle and more about their own mindset than about your writing.

Perfection is not just an unrealistic goal, it's an impossible one. Being imperfect doesn't mean that you're lazy, it means that you're human.

There will always be a better phrase, a more interesting metaphor, a more apt verb or adjective, a juicier trope. You'll never be able to make a 100% accurate transfer of the idea in your head to the words on your page - not just because you're interpreting your own thoughts but because your readers will be interpreting your words after you get them down on paper.

What is your actual goal when you're writing? Why are you doing it? What's the driving need you're satisfying by writing a story down? Right now, you're so caught up in how people are going to react to your writing that you can't actually write anything at all. Reconnect with yourself and the reasons why you tell stories. Why do you love it, and why would you be unhappy if you didn't do it anymore?

[falafels]

English coursework: A saga

Feel free to ignore this I just created a bunch of problems for myself and am now having to deal with said problems and Do Not Fucking Like It

>Combined English A level has a coursework component worth about 15% of the overall grade, from 2 pieces of writing, one comparative essay (done in November, piece of piss), and one piece of “creative non-fiction” of about 900 words

>My teacher, who despises me - and I do mean HATES me (but also she is wildly fucking incompetent and I do not help myself by rising to it every single time), sets this second task to everyone as “personal writing”

>I decide Fuck That, because I don’t like her, I haven’t had a great personal life, I don’t want to share any of it, and I’ve already done the other task and how big a deal is 15% really anyway

>The first draft deadline passes me by. I wave as it goes.

>Ten days later I receieve one of the pissiest emails I have ever laid eyes on, from said teacher saying “you’ve missed the deadline BY A MILE, but in my endless magananimity (I am paraphrasing - she does not know this word), I am willing to mark a first draft so your final piece isn’t submitted raw to the exam board if you can get it in by the end of the day”

>This irritates me, and activates my kamikaze reflex, because I am incredibly stupid and immature and will drive us both off the road and over a cliff every single time

>I give her exactly what she asks for (personal writing). I also submit a biography of Edith Piaf as a backup, as it technically fits the brief of creative non-fiction.

>She calls it - not paraphrasing this time - horrifying. Turns out she wanted a little rant about how boring my hometown is, not an account of addiction with several allusions to statutory rape. Whoops, but fuck you. 

>All of her feedback is related to the content, so it’s essentially just judgement. She does not make a single comment about the actual marking criteria or quality of the writing as an English assignment.

>I decide I don’t care, she didn’t actually give me any notes on it for redrafting, I didn’t want to do it to begin with, and I let the final draft deadline pass me by. I do not wave to this one, I scowl at it and mutter unkind things about its mother. 

>I assume she will either submit nothing, resulting in me getting a 0 on that piece of work, which is fine. 

>It occurs to me that she may submit my first draft as my final draft. This is also fine, until I remember somebody on twitter talking about how the exam board contacted their parents when they wrote about sexual assault in the creative writing section for GCSE English.

>If this happens to me I actually will have no choice but to kill myself and everybody involved - think Hamlet but condensed into an incredibly messy twenty seconds. 

>Do I write something else and submit it belatedly as the final draft, hoping she’ll mark it? I’ve tried, but I really don’t have anything to say, and all my lies are too interesting for the specific brand of banality that she so adores. 

>Could I talk to her? Perhaps, but I’ve been skipping her lessons for a few weeks now because they drag forever, we get nothing done, and she always says stupid things and gets annoyed when people say mmm I’m not sure that’s right (e.g. spelling mistakes, calling Romeo and Juliet Richard and Juliet repeatedly, mispronouncing key vocab for Paper 1, and generally being irritating). So it might be a bit awkward.

>If you’ve read this far, my sincerest apologies. I am aware that I am entirely in the wrong here and am being a cunt about this for no reason. I will unfortunately continue to do so. Again, sorry.

[utahlive]

Sorry!! No episode today but I do have some extra content for you! The Wilbur/Quackity comic (?) has been in the works for a while so I want to show you some of the behind the scenes stuff. Sorry if its not too interesting ^_^’’

The comics are a bit long so I’m going to put them under the cut

Here’s the first draft of the scene, drawn sometime in early December. I was originally going to have it be a daydream Wilbur was having from behind the counter at the store. I decided against it because it felt like a weird transition from him being home to suddenly being back in the store. The dialogue (sorry if you cannot read my handwriting </3) also felt really stilted, plus I had a point I was going for that wasn’t really hit with what was being said here.

These two are essentially the storyboard for the text below. I originally intended for Quackity’s face to never be fully shown, but when I tried to draw it digitally it looked weird. Plus, I feel like there’s more of a connection if you can actually see his face. Im also a bit proud of my cquackity design sorry. This iteration is the one where I decided that Wilbur would be in his car rather than at the story (its very messy, but the 4 tiny boxes on the side is the transition from him smoking in LN to being in his car and driving away).

plus some warmups and deciding how long I wanted Wilburs hair to be at the bottom

Here’s the original script, written on a plane with about 3 hours of sleep. I condensed it a bit, since I didn’t want to draw 15 whole pages and I didn’t want it to drag on. I also scrapped the last part in the notes, obviously. A gradual “waking up” would have worked too I guess, but I think the more jarring transition was more the feel I was going for (the kind of “snapping back” when you finish a memory/when something catches your attention).

I didn’t originally intend for the comic (can I even call it that?) to be a two parter, but once I decided Wilbur would be in his car, it would be too odd to just...go back to normal. I hope it was clear in the final product, but Q only shows up in the reflections of the window/mirror. Reflections are so great for so many things, and I’m definitely going to (continue) to use them lol!

I did get some people in the inbox saying how Quackity’s colors were similar to the sky from the first part, but they’re actually the same (just a bit more glow-y in this part) since I took the sky/background from the previous comic and overlayed it. The whole idea of Q using snippets of speech from the previous comic was also really fun to do. I’ve always wanted to have a story where I can do that (I did it for more reasons that it just being cool, but that’s definitely one of them! haha). Anyway that’s all! If you read this far, thank you for indulging me :D Apologies again for no episode; I burnt myself out a bit, and I’m working on another big episode and those tend to take up a lot of my time.

[sewagedrowning]

Cults, apocalypse, and death - chainsawman theorycrafting

This I'd not a yoshida = death devil theory I promise

TOC

-Notes - Must read

-Organization? Thats kinda sus.

-Y2K is back in style!?

-Yoshida p1

-YO-SHI-DA?

-Death doesn't knock

-Contracts

-Yoshida p2, Fake saw edition

-Conclusion

Important notes :

- this was made BEFORE 121

-Im referring to death as they for this. Though I think they will be female for a few reasons that matter for the story.

-This theory has 2 split sections when it comes to the orginization mostly because the end point is the same either way. But it's still different.

-Also, apologies if this is messy. It's my first full meta, and its gathered by rants I had with my brother. And I lost the draft for this.. 2 times so.

A lot of this theory is riding off of this one ; please give it a read. By u/domilea

To summarize, though. All 4 horsemen desire a specific type of love. Conquest desires familial connection, War desires romantic love. Famine desires self-love, and death desires the love of humanity. These desires tie in directly to there powers, while they feed off of fears. They also feed off secondary emotions, being the ones santa listed as the only emotions a human needs.

Conquest - Worship, controls those below her. She desires familial love, something between equals, which by nature she couldn't have due to her need to be above.

×

War - Guilt, weaponizes this feeling by using objects or people. She desires Love, or romantic affection.

×

Famine - Admiration, Gives humans power without being paid for the contract, Wants to be able to love herself without external validation.

×

Death - Pity, Powers unknown, their our mantle piece for this post so we will get to them. Later

So this theory serves to answers a few things

-Yoshida : Who is he, what does he want, what does his organization want?

-Death : who are they, what do they want.

- fakesawman (impostor for short purposes) - who are they what do they want.

Yoshida

Yoshidas is a weird guy. In his return in part 2, he reintroduces himself, stating how he's a part of an organization tasked with protecting denjis identity. Also, he would be creepily stating he would use force if he needed to. Following that conversation, he seemingly stalks denji and tries to set him up with Asa to no avail.

In part 1 he also remarks on being a 3rd rate devil hunter although he's quirky corrected by kishibe as being overly humble. He also says being hit by quanxi later on would kill him. But this is seemingly untrue.

He comes off as dishonest at best and incredibly fake at worst. It's almost similar to makima but somehow even more mysterious.

And of course, the odd mention of death later in the aquarium.

I say odd because besides makima, yoru, and Kiga. Nobody has mentioned a primordial fear, let alone a horseman. We could just play this off as a weird coincidence, though. Besides that, mentioning chainsaw mans erasure ability is incredibly strange. He would have had to learn this from somewhere. It's not easily available information. But even then, I doubt he was told by kishibe despite being public safety. Sense kishibe is both MIA and not one to readily give up information. So where else did he get it?

Orginization

Like mentioned earlier. He brinng up this mystery group while on his date with denji. And that their not evil, quote the contrary, as they want denji to live a peaceful life. As such, keep his identity a secret. Which is odd sense they seemingly dont really connect. Even if denji revealed his identity to the world, what would that change? People after chainsawmans heart were able to hunt him down easily before. Knowing his name and face wouldn't change all that much beyond make his life more of a hassle. But why do they care?

I believe that the organization doesn't care. Not about denji specfically anyway. dont even think the organization is as big or organized as yoshidas claiming. To being able to slip under public safetys nose, especially makima's, is strange. If they were a segment of public safety or the government, Im unsure why they would stay hidden up to now. Especially as during international assasians, their goals would have aligned. That is assuming that this group wasnt formed between parts 1 and 2 which seems impossible as it's only been a few months at best.

So, I dont think this group actually seeks to help denji. Rather somethings in it for them. Denji revealing his identity would be actively harmful to them or whatever they seek to do.

So, what would denji's reveal cause beyond denjis hope for fame?

Route 1 . Or the simple one

The organization is run by kishibe and allies to prevent a makima esk situation from ever occurring again. Specfically the prevention of the apocalypse Denji revealing his identity would fuck this up as it would give and potential horsemen a path right to chainsawman.

Route 2. The complicated, long one.

It would demolish public fear for starters. Alot of chainsawmans current fear is backed on the worry's and fear of the what if's surrounding his identity. The rumors, the lies, the damage hes capable of. Learning hes some high school boy, makes him a whole less scary.

Theres 3 other reasons I think organization wants denjis identity secret

1.) Keep chainsawman in his current power strength for.. Something.

2.) the fear of chainsawman is fueling something else. Its not a reach to say devils in similar veins are fueled by the same general fear (bomb & nuclear bombs, Katana & knife, Spider & bug).

We know chainsawman was quite the icon in hell, having his own followers in hell. And seemingly now in the real world within the student council. Yoshida himself also refers to himself as a fan while talking to asa.

I believe this mystery orginization are also fans. Real followers of him, in the same way makima idolized him, and adored him to obsession. While makima wanted him for her own goals, I believe this group truly idolizes him. And like the followers from Hell and makima, they want to start the day of reckoning

What the fuck is the day of reckoning?

The apocalypse

The details of how to do this are murky. But from makimas attempt we can tell you need chainsawman, specfically his heart I assume and his angels. I think a third requirment exists though.

The precense of the apocalypse. Fuji has alreayd repedebly touched on the horsemen so its logical to assume at some point they will start the apocalypse. Especially sense our heroine of the part seeks to retrieve the nuclear war devil and wage a war.

For this day of reckoning It would make sense for a horsemen, or multiple to be present. The more the worse the apocalyptic event. Sense each horsemen simply represents a "factor" of the end. Which also makes me think them coming together is the apocalypse itself, or the trigger. Who knows.

That's brings reason 3.) For keeping denjis identity "secret" they want to use him as bait. Bait to draw the horsemen out and together. Making the hunt less difficult.

If we refrence the bible, as chainsawman has done on multiple occasions ; Before the Last Judgment, all will be resurrected. Those who were in purgatory will have already been purged, meaning they would have already been released into heaven, and so like those in heaven and hell will resurrect with their bodies.

So id assume doing this would, literally, open the door to hell and revive the devils from hell, causing a ammerganion, judgment day-esk situation

Ironically enough if we look at a timeline

(U/SkinFlower on reddit for the visual) part 2 is placed,, just in time for Y2K. A historic event I doubt fujimoto would look over. Meaning fear over the apocalypse. The end. *death* would be at a drastic increase only getting worse over time. Possibly making death at their strongest state. And, with 3/4 horsemen already on earth in close proximity. What would be a better time to start the apocalypse.

But I hear you. What kind of seemingly humans would want to start the apocalypse? Simple. A group that believes that doing so would be virtuous. Or benefit them and the rest of humanity. A doomsday cult-esk situation in which they believe doing so would 'assend' them or bring them to their God. Or I suppose in this situation their hero. And by relation death. I'll explain further, but first;

YO-SHI-DA?

It seems the popular theory at the moment is that yoshida is death. I initially agreed, sense this theory in particular has been in the works sense,, around the fight with yuko. But as I sat down to write it l down and time passed. I found it not adding up both from a meta perspective and in universe

1.)It wouldnt make sense motivation wise. Protecting denjis identity. Suggesting denji eating him. Keeping tabs on denji. Its confusing if he is death. What would he be gaining from it?

2.)His powers wouldn't make much sense. Octopi don't have any sort of connotations with death particularly. And so far powers have been sticking very closely to their theme.

3.) Makima not recognizing him and requesting him is weird. While this could go both ways (requesting because she knows he's death) I doubt it.

4.)The earrings is a lackadaisical argument. Majority of characters in CSM have some sort of earrings.

5.)"He looked at famine" This is one of the comments that holds more weight but I don't think he knows her because there siblings or something. Family didnt seem to know him either.

6.)Death has never died, Obviously. If they are indeed a primordial fear anyways. They would have to be in hell currently.

7.) It would be painfully obvious. Fuji's not always one for subtly but its almost so obvious I think its just a red herring.

Death Doesn't knock

I believe death and pochita use to be friends or allies of some sort. It would make sense. Death would benefit directly from the fear caused by pochitas chaos. And I guess at some point they had a falling out. To keep the religious themes going fuji seems fond of. think Lucifer & God's situation. Kicking off the battle between the horsemen and the hero of hell.

Its been a while but lets recall that death's emotion is pity(one of the only emotions a human can have, symbolized by a dead fox according to santa.) One from watching humanity suffer, A suffering that can only end in death And she depends on their suffering to live. What a conflicting dilema. And despite Their apparent rivarly. Imagine death's opinion on a being like themself who also cannot die yet still suffers? And despite this pity and love, empathy for humanity and others. death cannot be with humanity without harming them. She cannot comfort them. She can never express her love without fear. Instead their stuck watching this continous cycle of death and suffering around them. Especially in their own sisters. Atleast famine and Yoru considered them family(despite makima & yorus apparent grudge). Unlike death, Makima Yoru and Kiga CAN die and be on earth for who knoes how long, leaving death behind until they return and are killed in hell again. Over and over. Unable to help. Unable to do anything. Trapped in hell forever. That would drive anyone crazy don't you think?

If death wishes to end suffering, there would be a way for death to both end human suffering and their own lonely existence. Start the apocalypse, end humanitys suffering by killing them all, death included. And end the cycle once and for all.

Or forcing chainsawman to eat her and her sisters without killing humanity. Forcing them to be cursed with immortality. Both work. The reason I'm more hesitant on this option, however, is it's repetitve with makimas' original goal.

The method to do this would be to gather her sisters up, fight chainsawman, take his heart, And then start the apocalypse.

To do this, death used a proxy on earth. As far as we can tell, hell, the devil can go back and forth between hell and earth. And seemingly works with the darkness devil. So I don't see why death couldn't. The reason for them not going themself, of course, is poor timing. Similar to gun devil, death being on earth would be call for disaster. Which isnt quite the goal.

So, using a proxy death aimed to gather followers of chainsawman, if it's route 2. convicing them of the plan and how it would allow them to be with their "hero". (Or immortality. )And have them gather everything needed. Including; their sisters

Or if the group is akin to route 1. It's similar. Just them being more mislead then anything.

This plan, and them being the cults "leader" would explain yoshida making terms with death. But wait.. How are they even communicating with death if their still in hell? As seen with the hell devil, such is possible with a contract. So what contract?

Contracts and such

Enter the eldritch, chaos, unknown, or lovecraftian devil. Pick your poison. It doesn't matter really. Or what I believe to be yoshidas real contract.

Chainsawman is a very inherently lovecraftian story. something i want to write about later. But i think yoshida being contracted with the "eldritch" devil of sorts makes sense. Specfically one based on nyaelathotep, a devil worshipped by the orginization mentioned previously, or one that is captured.

Nya is described as so ;

tall swarthy man

Nyarlathotep as "evilly intelligent

nocturnal, tentacled, bat-winged monster

Nyarlathotep seems to serve these cults and take care of the deities' affairs in their absence

Aswell as a shapeshifter (depending on who is telling the story.)

Sound familair?

Within lovecrafts works Nyarlathotep serve the cults of the outergods take care of the deities' affairs in their absence. More or less serving as their messenger, or, a spy.

Beyond amusment or wanting to assist one of the horsemen as one of their "allies" (similar to wars weapons) Yoshida could have also contracted them via a ritual of sorts

Or them simplying liking him for one reason or another (which seems more likely by the way yoshisa uses them freely)

Basically being death's proxy would also make the "evidence" of him being death still make sense.

Yoshida part 2 : Imposter amongus

While preventing chainsawman from getting axed by one of our apocolyptic femne fatales I think yoshida has a secondary goal is to find the horsemen and keep a eye on them once they revealed themselves

Putting himself as our antagonist (for now.) A mirror of makima for asa. As hes directly in the way of asa and yorus goals. As I mentioned earlier though, I don't think he's actually an 'antagonist'. To yoru and asa? Maybe. Especially if we continue the theming of shadowing part 1 with its arcs (prolouge, bat, eternity).

But to denji, no. Even if the organization turns out as crazy as I expect. Like I said, I think he's morally gray. And I don't think he's being entirely dishonest, despite how apathetic and untrustworthy he tends to come off. And like apathetic morally gray anti-heros tend to be ; he is probably our fakesawman

Yea that came out of nowhere didnt it.

Referring back to the contract theory, hypothetically it should allow him to shapeshift and even if that's wrong. Octopus are famous for camo anyway. It would also explain why is arms are bleeding. Because hes simply mimicing. Its not actually his power. But why would he do this, Simple. Vigilante justice to keep the public (and devils) afraid and on their toes while giving denji down time. Especially if he's apart a group that believes they are upholding some sort of delusional "justice".

-It could also be that yuko was a active threat. To both denjis "peaceful life" and denjis identity.

-It could also be something against justice specfically. Beyond his own personal seemingly lack of morals (in part 1 claiming he didn't care about what happened as long as he was paid.) It could also be that justice stands in his and the organizations way. Causing chaos around the school in a possible attempt to lure out chainsawman. Which could hold more weight if they are indeed working with famine.

-It could also be to rile asa up. Get her to slip up as the war devil so he can confirm her identity. Or get her on his side of taking his heart.

Conclusion

I dont think yoshida is telling the truth fully. And think his story runs alot deeper than we think. Especially the orginization also dont think the theme of apocalypse, war, and csm timeline is a coincidence.

I really like part 2 and I can't wait to see how it progresses.

Death is a running trend in chainsawman obviously, In universe its everywhere. And theres a running theme on how people deal with death. How people grieve.

What they will do to forget,

run away,

Ignore it.

Maybe you can rehabilite the other horsemen like nayuta. But death can not be changed. And what is humanity without death? Its apart of life. Santa asked denji a question that stayed unawnsered. Can you imagine living with death constantly stalking you? Well, he kinda has. This makes confronting death a very interesting dilemma, and her a very interesting antagonist for him to face. Sense the only solution is directly facing them. And even then, I dont think their the final boss. Because sometimes, there are things that are scarier than death.

Or maybe I just need to listen to the song.

[yearninqheart]

dinner for one (table for two)

he didn’t mean to be late again, he really didn’t. he’s just been forgetful lately. it wont happen again however, he promises you so.

pairing: corinthian x reader

word count: 1.4k

tags: gender-neutral!reader, implied reader is shorter than corinthian, fluff despite the title and summary lmao (though it does get a tad sad at the end).

notes: i don’t even remember how i got this idea all i know is that its bene sitting in my drafts for weeks and forgot about it until last night when i decided to finish it

The Corinthian was a creature known for many things. He is the Dream Lord’s masterpiece, a popular figure—dare he say, idol—amongst serial killers, a literal Nightmare, and also a boyfriend who was late to dinner. Again.

He had promised both himself and his partner that the first time would be the last but now it was nearing 10 p.m and he was still miles away from home. He’s barely even finished the meeting he’s in when he’s suddenly running to his car and stepping on the gas so hard he wondered if his car would blow at any second. 

Thankfully, it didn’t and at around 11:46 p.m, Corinthian was in your driveway with a messy bouquet of flowers in one hand and a nervous—almost fearful—expression on his face. He had to take a second to try and calm himself down before actually knocking but when silence was his only response, he couldn’t feign calmness any longer. 

There were two scenarios that filled his head at that very moment. The first, was that you were—understandably—angry and was refusing to even acknowledge him, and the second, was that something had happened to you and it was somehow his fault. Truthfully, he wished for neither but he knew to some degree, it would be one of the two. A part of him hoped it would be the first. 

Fishing out his keys, he quickly unlocked the door and rushed inside to search for you, barely thinking about the flowers in hand as he checked the house.

“Darling?” He had called out as he stepped into the kitchen, there were pots and pans left in the sink to soak along with a perfectly set table with a dinner for one. Guilt washed over him at the sight knowing that you had probably sat in the seat opposite of his waiting for him to come home before you decided to simply eat alone. He’ll make up for this. He has to. 

“Love?” 

The living room was empty, along with the bathrooms and closets. Even your shared bedroom was empty and that was when his worries heightened. 

Where were you? 

The flowers were forgotten on the floor somewhere by now as the Corinthian all but roamed the house you shared. He had checked everywhere! There weren’t any traces of you having been forced out of the house but there also seemed to be no indication that you were still here. Unless someone had found a way to teleport inside your home and take you, there was no way that you could’ve just disappeared. Surely you’ve got to be here somewhere, but where could you have—

“Cori?” 

For a second he was frozen at the sudden sound of your voice until he turned around. You were still on the opposite side of the door—he hadn’t even heard you open the door—with a plastic shopping bag in one hand and an umbrella in the other. Glancing past you in the doorway, the Corinthian realized it must’ve begun raining sometime after he got home. He hadn’t noticed.

“Sweetheart, look I’m so—” His apology was cut short as the door shut behind you and asked, 

“How are you home so early?” 

Early? 

“Earl-Early? It’s almost midnight!” 

Looking at you as if you had offended him, Corinthian saw the slightest hint of a smile on your lips before you said: “You forgot, didn’t you?”

Forgot? 

Forget what?!

He had just missed dinner yet here you stood as if he was the victim of a successful prank. You should’ve been angry. Should’ve been anything but grinning up at him after he missed– Oh. 

By now your smile was wide and almost bordering teasing as he pulled out his phone to confirm that he indeed did forget.

Today was Tuesday, and the Corinthian never came home until Wednesday due to his work. That was the routine the two of you had fallen into, meaning that he was never late for dinner in the first place and he had just rushed home with his heart in his throat for nothing. 

Relief and embarrassment hit him both at once and the result was a very confused Corinthian standing in the middle of the hallway with no idea of what to do or say. Instead, your laughter filled the empty space around you and he found himself admiring the way your eyes basically twinkled in the dimly lit hallway. He didn’t even notice when you had closed the space between you two—or was it him?—but all of sudden you were in-front of him and his hand cupped your face before fingers traced the side of your jaw up towards your temple before just barely grazing over your eyelids. 

“Should I be worried that you always do this?” You asked as he pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips barely brushing past the delicate skin that protected the peculiar organ he could never seem to get enough of. He simply chuckled before shaking his head ‘no’ and guiding your head to lean against his chest as he wrapped his arms around your middle. 

“Alright then,” You said as you pulled away from him. He reluctantly loosened his arms to let you go. “Since you’re home now, how about some dinner?” 

He followed you into the kitchen where he took the seat opposite of where the ready set meal was placed and watched as you stood opened the oven where leftovers of what you had cooked remained. 

As he sat there he wondered why you had left a meal out if it was only Tuesday. Dinner was typically served and eaten at 9 p.m and currently it was well past midnight and a meal was still waiting in the spot he usually filled. Either that meant you hadn’t had dinner yet or you were expecting other guests. The lack of decoration and tidiness of the room however led him to believe that the latter was not the case. 

“I had a strange feeling I’d have a guest tonight.” You said as you set down a plate of hot food in front of him. It was as if you had read his mind. 

“Gut feeling, I think that’s what it is. Didn’t think it’d be you who showed up though, I would’ve made something else. I know you don’t particularly like this as much.” And while in most cases he would’ve made his own dinner whenever your tastes didn’t seem to align with his own, tonight Corinthian smiled at you before saying, “Perhaps a second try will change my opinion.” 

Bringing a spoonful of food into his mouth, he tried to conceal his dislike for a particular ingredient that he didn’t favour all too much but it was such a strong part of the dish that he just couldn’t help it. Your cooking was wonderful and he’s enjoyed every single dish you’ve given him but he just couldn’t finish this one. 

He was thankful you understood and even found amusement as he struggled to mask his distaste for the dish before finally swallowing it and reaching for his glass of water.

“How about we get some pizza, and maybe catch up on that show you haven’t been able to watch yet?” You suggested and while he would’ve eventually finished the meal you worked so hard on, he really couldn’t resist the offer of being able to have you in his arms for the rest of the night. 

“I’ll give them a call.” He said as he got up and brought the plates towards the sink before going to place your order of pizza and drinks. Meanwhile, you headed towards the living room where blankets and pillows cushioned the couch as you set up the tv. 

The Corinthian would be a day or so behind schedule now due to a minor hiccup in his planning, possibly even pushing his original plans to a much later date but Corinthian didn’t seem to mind the inconvenience at all. 

With his limbs a tangled mess with your own as he listened to ramble about the scene playing on screen, he would postpone the rest of his plans if it meant he could live in this moment forever. 

Humanity would still have lots to offer him even decades later but a love like this would surely not make it long in his lifespan. You wouldn’t. And no matter how hard he may try to defy fate and Destiny himself, he knew that the inevitable would one day come and he would once again be lonely. But until the dreadful day comes, he would drop every meeting he had if it called for a night like this. And perhaps be more mindful of when he’s supposed to be home. 

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

Can you match your mutuals with CSM characters and troupes? Pretty please 🥺

Thanks for the game <3 !!! I wanna apologize upfront bc this is a very very short one. I don't remember CSM super well apparently so i apologize for how few of yall are included here. This was what I could manage after tumblr fucked up my draft and if i dont post it tonight it'll rot in my drafts forever. Idk man send me a part two and ask for a different set and we'll see what we can do (probably reusing characters tho)

@feitania and Kishibe - roommates

Kishibe doesn't need a roommate and he reminds you of that at least 12 times a week but he wouldn't dream of having you leave. He's so much more sentimental than it seems. Who would've thought that stone cold bastard had such a big soft heart? He lets you decorate any room you like for the most part and he'd be lying if he said he didn't appreciate the warmth that comes with another life in his home. You two don't need to fill all the space with chatter but after a while, you do get him to open up a bit and you learn a lot from the man's life. He learns a lot about yours too. Idk, it's just the right amount of cozy.

@the-travelling-witch X Aki - cafe au

Baker!Aki is dying for your attention after the fist time you visit his shop. It was dead on a weekday afternoon. He gave you a deal on some cookies, insisting it was the end of the day, that they'd go to waste. Since then he's tried to catch your eye and your fancy through some new desserts, pastel macarons, and cute little pastries, and delicate fruit tarts. He listens to you talk when you bring some friends to study there. He's not trying to be weird, but he hears you're not from Japan and starts making German treats he think maybe a taste of home could be nice or well he's ... he's trying okay? He thanks the gods the day you ask him why the menu always changes because you finally give him your number with a promise to teach him how to make some real bread.

@sleepy3 and Beam - childhood best friends

Yall have been inseparable for the last two decades. You spent your youth together. You shared nearly all your elementary and middle school classes together and and never struggled to make time for one another. You're the only one who can calm Beam down, you're his favorite cuddle buddy, annnnd the only reason he probably graduated because got he's adorable and all but his attention span is not it! For his part, he gives you energy and hypes you up all the time. He even hypes you up for that date he doesn't particularly like that you're going on tonight because he doesn't think the guy is good enough for you. But he's still gonna help you pick an outfit and tell you how great you look because he's honest and he cares about you and well, he trusts you to make smart decisions.

@drakenlvr X violence fiend - fake dating

He doesn't seem all that interesting at first and I don't blame you. There's not much to talk about since you finished that one project together. You know, the one you two did all the work for while your asshat classmates sat with their thumbs in their asses? All you really knew about galgali was that he was maybe a bit of a pushover sometimes but he was definitely nice. When he came up to you in the dining hall and asked for you to go to a work event with him as his partner just once god i know its weird but please- you figured, fuck it. There are worse ways to spend a Friday evening than hanging around an acquaintance and getting free food and drinks. Turns out he has a crazy history, a crazier job, and a shockingly cute streak.

@violettierre x Power - enemies to friends to business owners lmao

Look I'm not gonna get into the gory details about that relationship you just got out of, okay? It was messy and not at all your fault, but isn't it crazy how all it took was a mutual enemy (the ex in question) to become thicker than thieves with Power? I can just see you and Power skipping down the street and dancing and being chaotic. Plus there's just nothing like it when Power is soft for you. Y'all end up roommates and maybe go in halfsies on a cat cafe for the broken hearted to find their new halves.