#writing should be enjoyable

[ssreeder]

outline or no outline anon here, thanks for the answer and I'm flattered you showed interest in the fic buts its for an incredible niche book series that nobody has heard about jneriuvhgeiu

Well…. Dang. Haha.

I’m sure it will be awesome though! The most important thing is that YOU enjoy writing it. So I hope you have fun!!!

[chloesimaginationthings]

What comic is the bottom left image of springtrap from? (On the post where you say why you draw him blocky)

It’s from this comic!! A very normal father son reunion

Og post here

[sensitiveheartless]

Written followup to the horrors comic! It got away from me lol. Most of it's under the cut, cause this part is also a bit long.

~*~

Minutes passed by on the quiet moonlit dock.

Despite the renewed serenity of the night, Chuuya’s heart continued to race sickeningly fast. It hammered away in his chest, as if unable to fully grasp that the danger had passed.

His clothes were heavy and waterlogged, so cold against his skin that he could barely keep from shivering. Icy trickles ran down the back of his neck and dripped from his hair.

Closing his eyes didn’t help. There were far too many twisted corpses engraved in the darkness whenever he blinked. So he kept his eyes open, staring at the planks beneath them as he tried to steady his breathing.

Don’t think about it, Chuuya told himself. Don’t think about them.

Instead, he forced himself to remain in the present moment. Beneath the planks, he could hear the swell of the ocean waters, each wave lapping at the posts in a quiet rhythm. Salt filled his lungs with every breath, the heavy tang of the sea-soaked wood wafting around him.

And against his chest was Dazai’s head, a steady and grounding pressure. His ear rested over Chuuya’s heart, his arms still tight around him.

In that position, Dazai must have been able to hear how hard Chuuya’s heart was pounding—but surprisingly, he didn’t remark upon it. He remained utterly silent.

In return, Chuuya didn’t say a word about the almost crushing strength of Dazai’s arms where they wrapped around his middle. Dazai’s fingers were digging into his ribs, twin rows of sharp pressure, and Chuuya could feel them shaking.

Dazai’s hair was coarse where Chuuya’s cheek rested against it. Back in the day, before Dazai’s defection, he never bothered with conditioner. It seemed some things never changed, even in the light.

For one wild moment, Chuuya wished that he wasn’t wearing a pair of gloves—then he could bury his bare fingers in Dazai’s hair and see if it was as tangled as it looked. And, perhaps, warm himself up. Dazai was like a radiator against him, heat seeping through Chuuya’s drenched layers of clothes at every point of contact, but his gloves remained cold, the sodden leather chilling him to the bone. His joints ached as he uncurled his fingers from around Dazai’s shoulders.

Perhaps it would be worth it to just…indulge for a moment, if only to have something else to needle Dazai about. Really, the man needed to learn how to groom himself properly one of these days.

As Chuuya’s hand hovered indecisively over Dazai’s head, however, he realized that his heart rate had already evened out. While he was reminiscing about Dazai’s damn mess of hair, of all things.

Ridiculous. But that meant that there was absolutely no excuse for the two of them to remain wrapped around each other any longer. Dazai’s shivering seemed to have calmed as well.

“We should—” Chuuya’s voice cracked when he tried to speak, so he paused and cleared his throat before going on. “We should make sure it’s really gone. I don’t want that thing getting the jump on me again.”

Dazai tensed, and his grip tightened so much that for a moment Chuuya could scarcely breathe.

“Oi. C’mon, you need to let me up,” Chuuya wheezed, swatting at Dazai’s shoulder. He strained his neck to look down at the head buried against his chest, a pang of something that was surely exasperation tightening his throat. “I need to be able to reach it, Dazai.”

Dazai remained still for another long moment, then abruptly loosened his grip. Instead of letting Chuuya up, however, he pushed him down to sit on the damp planks, and rose to his feet himself.

“I’ll go,” Dazai said quietly, and strode past Chuuya towards the small, oval mirror where it lay shattered on the dock.

Right. It did make sense to have Dazai touch it first, in case it was an ability that could be nullified.

…But what if it’s not? What if it’s something like Lovecraft? Dazai will be defenseless, Chuuya thought, and instinctively started to his feet as well.

“Stay back,” Dazai said sharply, without even turning to look. He was standing over the mirror, staring down at it. “Don’t move forward until I say so.”

Chuuya scowled, but remained in place. He watched as Dazai bent down and extended a careful hand towards the shards of glass.

One tap, with the tip of a finger. Then another, less cautious tap against the side of the wooden frame. Then another, and another, Dazai’s touches moving systematically across every inch of shattered glass and broken wood.

Nothing happened.

Dazai breathed out, and stepped back. “There. You are now welcome to crush it into dust,” he said lightly, waving Chuuya forward.

His head was still downturned, his eyes cast in the shadow of his bangs as Chuuya walked past him to do the deed.

It was with deep pleasure that Chuuya pressed each little bit of the mirror into nothingness, grinding it down with the overwhelming weight of gravity.

After it was done, Chuuya scattered the dust into the ocean waters below. “What the fuck was that thing, anyway?” he asked, turning back to face the other.

When he turned, however, he found Dazai had moved to sit on the edge of the dock, his legs dangling off the edge.

His back was facing Chuuya. It seemed deliberate.

At first, Dazai didn’t respond to Chuuya’s question. The silence stretched long enough that Chuuya began to shiver again, the cold wind cutting through his damp clothes.

“…A Face Like Glass,” Dazai said at last. “That’s what the ability was called.”

“So it was a gifted,” Chuuya muttered. He walked to Dazai’s side, and dropped down beside him with a heavy sigh. “That mean the user is still out there somewhere?”

“No,” Dazai said softly. “She died some time ago, I’m afraid.”

Chuuya looked at him sharply. “What?”

There wasn’t much light by which to see, but Chuuya knew Dazai’s face like the back of his own hand. Better, probably. And he could tell that the detective’s features had gone unnaturally still.

It was how Dazai looked whenever he was unsure of how much he should give away. Typically his poker faces were more natural, but when he was strongly conflicted, he would simply go blank.

“Explain,” Chuuya said, crossing his arms. “That thing almost killed me, I think I ought to know what it was.”

That got a reaction. Dazai’s lips twitched downward and he looked away, hiding his face from Chuuya once again.

After another lingering pause, however, he finally began to talk.

“A Face Like Glass was the ability of a woman named Hardinge,” Dazai said, as blandly as if he were reciting a history lesson. “She could reflect the darkest thoughts of anyone who looked into that mirror of hers, and give those thoughts physical form. Quite literally a nightmare to deal with, as one can imagine. She was the terror of England. However, after she rose to prominence, the mirror began to behave a bit oddly.

“The more renowned Hardinge became, the more people began to fear her ability. She kept the exact details of the mirror shrouded in mystery, so her enemies were always speculating what horrors it might do to them next.

“Naturally, over time, their darkest thoughts became consumed with fear of the mirror itself. And when Hardinge reflected those thoughts, manifesting them into reality…well. You can imagine what happened.”

Chuuya’s hands formed fists in his lap, so tight the leather of his gloves creaked. His fingers were somehow even colder than before. “A runaway effect,” he said. Despite his best efforts, his voice came out rough. “A singularity.”

“Quite,” Dazai said. “The heights of human imagination should never be underestimated. The more powerful anyone imagined the mirror was, the more powerful it became. When their fears manifested, their imaginations ran ever more wild with terrifying possibilities. Which it would also reflect. And so on, and so on. The only one who could control it was Hardinge herself, stopping the runaway cycle by covering the mirror. She acted as a control for the ability for many years, preventing it from going too far.

“But one day, one of her enemies had the dubiously clever idea to turn the mirror back on Hardinge herself. Which, ordinarily, would have been a mere scare tactic. I’m sure their only intent was to make her hesitate to use the mirror by making her own fears manifest.

“However, that is not what happened. Keep in mind, Hardinge had been watching this ability of hers grow with each battle she fought, gaining strength after strength, only barely containing it with her efforts. Sometimes it must have seemed so powerful that it nearly eclipsed her own self.

“Anyone would be frightened of that. It can’t be surprising that her darkest thoughts contained the fear that her mirror would one day consume her.”

Silence stretched, frigid and fragile as ice.

“…So her own ability ate her,” Chuuya said flatly.

“Yes,” Dazai said. “And without anyone left to contain it, the mirror was unleashed.”

Chuuya rubbed wearily at his temples. “Okay. Then how did it get here? To Yokohama?”

“From what I hear, Hardinge was not popular with the Order of the Clock Tower,” Dazai said. “She had gone into hiding here when her ability overtook her. The Special Operations Division then sent out operatives to contain it.”

Chuuya raised his head. “Oh. They’re involved? Wait, does that mean…was that ex-drinking buddy of yours the one who told you all this?”

Dazai nodded, and Chuuya could faintly make out a crooked smile on his lips in the darkness. “Ango called to warn me of its escape. They had done everything they could to keep it locked away so it could be studied, but all it took was one researcher fearing that the creature had the ability to get out of its cell, and it immediately had that power,” he said, leaning back on his bandaged palms. He gave Chuuya a sidelong look, heavy with significance. “Then, of course, while Ango was briefing me on A Face Like Glass, I also got word that a certain tiny mafioso had gone out to fight an unknown monster that was terrorizing the shipyards.”

Chuuya met his stare with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, so?” he said. “It was scaring my subordinates. Someone had to do something.”

Dazai’s gaze darkened further. “Chuuya, you went alone,” he said. “You tried to face it all by yourself, without even knowing what it was. You could have —” He broke off, and looked away once more. His nails were digging into the wood of the dock, his shoulders stiff. 

Hiding again, Chuuya thought.

For a moment, Chuuya considered pointing out that there wasn’t anyone for him to call for help. Very few of the other mafia members could stand up to an otherworldly threat—and even those who could, like Akutagawa, were not anyone who Chuuya would want exposed to a fear-monster. Everyone in the mafia had far too much darkness to reflect.

Besides, Dazai had no room to scold Chuuya when he was the one who had left him without a partner in the first place.

But even as Chuuya contemplated speaking those cutting words aloud, he found himself unable to.

Because even though Chuuya hadn’t called, Dazai had come anyway.

And, if the reflections of that ability could be believed, one of Dazai’s darkest thoughts was losing Chuuya to Corruption. Right alongside Dazai’s fear of his own past self, and his fear of disappointing his old friend. That…changed some things.

Chuuya sighed, releasing a long-held weight. Then he prodded Dazai’s shoulder with a cold, gloved fingertip. “Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”

Dazai’s shoulders hitched higher, but he didn’t turn.

“What’s your deal?” Chuuya demanded, poking him again. “You don’t have to hide from me, idiot. What, you think I’m gonna make fun of you for having emotions?”

That, apparently, surprised Dazai enough to glance back at Chuuya, his brow furrowed.

“Because I won’t,” Chuuya said. “Not about this. I mean…look, before you showed up, that mirror motherfucker had already reflected a lot of people at me. The Flags, the Sheep, Murase, even N. That’s how it got close enough to me to grab me and drag me under in the first place. So if you’re embarrassed of breaking down or some shit, you shouldn’t be. I did too.”

“It’s not that,” Dazai muttered, his eyes darting away across the dark ocean waters once again.

“Then what?” Chuuya prompted impatiently, leaning closer.

“I froze,” Dazai said, his lips twisting in disgust. “Under the slightest amount of pressure, I broke. You could have died, just because I couldn’t bring myself to fire at a poor imitation of my friend.”

Chuuya blinked. “What’s wrong with that? I broke too. And you were there to pull me out of the water. I saved you, and you saved me. That’s what partners are for, right?”

That finally got Dazai to face him, whipping around so quickly it must have hurt his neck. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in surprise.

Chuuya knew why. It had been years since he had called Dazai his partner.

All too aware that his cheeks were beginning to heat, Chuuya reached out to pull the infuriating man into his arms, tucking Dazai’s head against his shoulder. “Not a word,” he growled, squeezing Dazai tightly in warning. “Make fun of me for this and I’m kicking you into the ocean.”

Dazai let out a choked noise, and suddenly he was clinging to Chuuya just as tight, his fingers practically clawing into his back.

He was shaking again. Or maybe they both were.

“It—it had been so long since I heard his voice,” Dazai cried against Chuuya’s neck, muffled and damp on his skin. “I don’t want that to be how I remember him, I don’t, I hate it…”

Chuuya closed his eyes and saw Albatross laying on the ground in pieces, staring up at him in betrayal. He let out a slow, careful breath, and held Dazai closer.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know. I get it.”

Dazai was still so warm. And Chuuya’s hands were still so terribly cold.

Making a reckless decision, Chuuya pulled off his soaked gloves and tossed them aside, then sunk his fingers into Dazai’s mess of curls without hesitation. He felt more than heard the sharp inhale against his neck, and the quiet questioning hum that followed. Chuuya ignored it and continued to card his fingers through Dazai’s hair.

“…Chuuya?” Dazai breathed.

Chuuya tugged absently at a knot. “Tangled,” he grunted. “It was bothering me.”

“Mm,” Dazai hummed, and his hands slid up the back of Chuuya’s jacket. “Chuuya’s cold.”

“No shit,” Chuuya said grumpily. “I fell in the fucking ocean, and it’s freezing out here.”

There was a soft laugh, then a strange sensation ghosted across the side of Chuuya’s neck just above his choker, almost like a pair of lips had pressed there. Chuuya’s hands tightened in Dazai’s hair, stiffening in surprise. He could only wonder if he had imagined it, unable to comprehend any other possibility.

He certainly didn’t imagine what Dazai said next, however.

“Come home with me,” Dazai whispered, his lips brushing against Chuuya’s skin once again.

Chuuya made a very strange noise, somewhere between a shriek and a gasp, and used his grip on Dazai’s hair to haul him away just enough for their eyes to meet. “The fuck?” he spluttered, face burning. “What do you mean, where did that — hah?”

Dazai’s eyes were rimmed in red, dulled with weariness. One of his hands wandered up to Chuuya’s cheek and rested there, circling the blush with his thumb. “I don’t want you out of my sight right now,” he said quietly. “That’s all.”

Ah. Right. The reflection of Corruption.

Well. Chuuya couldn’t really deny that he wasn’t looking forward to a night spent alone in his own apartment. He might not dream, but that didn’t matter if he couldn’t even get to sleep. Having someone beside him might help.

And beyond all that—this was the first time that Dazai had ever asked Chuuya to stay with him.

So, dazed and still a little flushed, Chuuya abandoned all common sense and replied, “Okay.”

Dazai captured one of Chuuya’s hands between his own, and brought it to his lips to brush a kiss across his knuckles. “Good,” he murmured, and pulled Chuuya to his feet. A slight smile flitted across his features. “I think I spotted Chuuya’s dreadful hat further towards the shore. Shall we find it first?”

Chuuya’s knuckles were still tingling. “Okay,” he repeated, strangled and utterly bewildered. His thoughts were chasing themselves in circles like a pack of confused terriers, but he allowed Dazai to tow him away towards the lights of the city.

And if Chuuya’s fingers ended up intertwined with Dazai’s as they traversed the shadows…well.

The streets were too dark for anyone to prove it.

“…Wait, is there even room at your place? You’re still living in that shitty dorm, aren’t you?”

A familiar grin and a pair of twinkling eyes turned back to him as they passed through a dimly lit alley. “Hmm? Chuuya has been tracking where I live? How sentimental of you, slug.”

At least he’s getting back to normal, Chuuya thought. “Oh, shut up,” he grumbled aloud. “Of course I’d keep an eye on your annoying ass.”

A scandalized, yet delighted gasp. “Chuuya likes looking at my ass?”

“…?! Shut up! That is not what I said—!”

[elizzsush]

The Mask | Jason Todd X Reader

Red Hood X Villain Reader

— in which you, a shy nerdy vigilante/Wayne family obsessed barista- is actually a villain that torments the Red Hood at night.

AU: Soulmate (bc I can)

Rating: Sfw

Note: Y/N is based off of Furina from Genshin bc I thought this would be fun and I saw a prompt somewhere, I think? It’s just my interpretation of it as to not step on anyone's toes!

Also, this isn't really a imagine. It's more of an Idea I was thinking of and needed to get out of my head! So that's why it's kind of not finished? Most of my stuff is WIPs anyway so this isn't really new.

_________________________________

You were a popular villain.

People loved you. Maybe not the theft and distraction you caused but hey- we all have flaws? “I will teach this city the true meaning of Justice!” You’d boldly claim standing on the stage that was Gotham city’s tallest building- scarily close to the edge. “Join me- and together we’ll cleanse this city of its evil and corrupt ways!” You’d state so boldly.

You loved for the attention, the lights- cameras and reporters. That’s why the red hood could only shake his head. Another psychopath spewing their ideology like it should be praised- like it was the absolute truth.

Spoiler alert, it wasn’t.

The world wasn’t black and white enough for an ideology to trump all the others and ‘cleanse this city’. Fuck, not this city- not even close. Gotham was just in too deep. Too much crime, too much of a drug problem or a poverty problem- too much of everything. The joker was a prime example of that. The evil of this city boiled up into one twisted person… Anyway, you were an attention seeker, classic villain profile. Does it for attention- maybe mommy or daddy didn’t give you enough love? It didn’t matter. What happened was you were breaking the law and Jason was still on Bruce’s keep an eye on list. So, he’d keep his hands off the bigger more horrible criminals.

Still sometimes, only sometimes, he'd find himself listening a little too closely to your ideals- Like you believed in the death penalty for Gotham hardest to kill roach: The joker.

So, while Red Hood was chasing you... Well, it'd started off small, you’d steal from the rich of Gotham- sometimes even Bruce Wayne himself. -Those days Jason found himself chasing after you slower, not that he’d admit that. It was a classic Robin Hood situation and Jason… didn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand you were breaking the law, in the other, power to the people. Eat the rich.

Jason knew how it felt to grow up struggling so too see you helping people? It was almost nice.

What annoyed him though was your loud, for the people persona. “I will judge all of Gotham! Batman himself can’t escape my judgment!” Okay, slow down… you were fast and agile, but Batman would be able to catch you. And if Jason really put his back into it, he could too. Still, that never stopped you from making bold claims. It garnered attention, it was bold and daring and just what the people wanted. Your ideal matched up with what so many people were fed up with the batman for.

Eventually your behavior began to escalate. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep the Bats eyes from you. “This is a cult...” He muttered while he hides away on the roof of an abandoned building you holed your followers up in for a speech.

“My loyal follower!” You’d greet them with a smile and a bow. You’d put in stage performances. Sometimes with Jason, except he never knew, and the performance was just you and him fighting on the stage. Most days, some days it seemed it was just you acting and being alive on that large stage. Others you were preaching your words to the cult your loyal followers. You were building an empire and catching the attention of other criminals.

An empire that while he agreed with, went against the bats no kill rule. The longer you stood on that stage the less safe from the bat you were.

And no matter how much he wanted to agree with you, a small part of him still wanted... something from batman. You would be an issue.

“How much longer do I have to do this…?”

Red hood was no detective, but he was raised by the greatest one. So, while he was lacking in that department compared to the rest of his family (Even if it was just by a smidge.) He still noticed how after a speech or a fight- your smile, no, your persona dropped.

It was a persona you probably garnered for attention.

but still...

So how…

…That just didn’t make sense.

“Can I have your autograph…? Please?” A civilian would ask shyly, hiding behind a Batman themed phone case with a Robin themed charm hanging from that same phone.

The worst part of it all? You didn’t ask for the Red Hoods autograph. You asked for Jason Todd’s autograph, you were a fan of the Wayne’s. Gotham's golden family. No actually, it was the way you jumped up and down eagerly when you thought he was far enough way and did a dumb victory dance.

He sighed and leaned against the alleys stone wall as he watched you leave. A sense of worry invaded his mind as he watched you in your nerdy and totally lame Superman shirt walking away. All while staring at your phone.

He was surprised you recognized him. He was never in the public spotlight- maybe here and there when he was younger. Not now, not anymore. His death and how vague it was left question. Ones people didn’t ask when he wasn’t there, dangling in front of them like bait to a fish, they’d ask why and how and while they had a cover up: One the bat, the world's greatest detective made up. It still was messy. You must be a real fan.

He wasn’t even sure if that was really you…

It had to be though, there was no mistaking it. So, with your civilian name in his head, he walked back home.

“…so… lonely…” `

[thirdeyeblue]

“Nine would have treated Martha better than Ten did”

I need to talk about this argument that never seems to stop circulating.

Note: Not a venomous/anti post. There’s more than enough of that across fandom spaces as is, and this is supposed to be a place for ✨sweet, blissful escapism✨

When making this argument, people seem to envision a scenario in which Nine never met Rose.

While I can appreciate a good hypothetical, recognizing Rose's significance to the Doctor (Nine and Ten) is essential to understanding why things with Martha played out the way they did in the first place.

In the third series, the Doctor is grieving. This grief is deliberately threaded into nearly every script, whether spoken aloud or not (and these are just a few examples):

He's burning in Rose’s wake the entire time Martha travels with him, which is why it’s so frequently called upon: It’s 100% deliberate in framing his grief. He grieved as Nine too, of course— having been fresh on the heels of the Time War — but then he met Rose, which changed everything.

Back then, he was still a rude, traumatized pain in the ass, but we watch Rose soften more of those jagged edges with every episode as they grow closer; as he lets his guard down and forms a deep connection with her.

He falls in love (against his better judgment) and it's game over.

And yes: provided S1E1 had been titled 'Martha', one can realistically assume things might have unfolded similarly to how they did with Rose. However, it wouldn’t have been that way just because the Doctor was Nine and “Nine was different” — it would be because he wasn’t already in love with someone else. The same can't be said for the start of S3.

Think of it like this: if Rose AND Martha had been in that cellar — if Nine had taken both of them along with him in S1 — we’d eventually be looking at the most melodramatic love triangle ever, what with him living in close quarters with two brilliant, gorgeous, compassionate young women... But Doctor Who is plenty “soap opera” as is with just one woman in the TARDIS.

(I certainly wouldn’t object to reading that fic, though)

Now, regarding the unrequited elephant in the room…

His inability to be romantic with Martha isn’t because he thinks her lesser, nor is it for lack of compatibility. It isn't because Rose is any better than her. It certainly isn’t just because he’s Ten.

It’s really only for one reason, which can't be denied — and now I’m a broken record:

He is still in love with Rose.

(cut from a tenrosedaily gif)

Nine is Ten, and Ten is only such a mess in S3 because he’s just lost the love of his life. Martha merely got caught in the crosshairs of a volatile Time Lord in mourning, and yes — it sucks. Absolutely.

But it also feels dismissive to chalk Ten and Martha’s relationship up to little more than some sort of mindless dance of pining, jealousy, and toxicity.

Ten trusted Martha with his life over and over again — and hers, with him. He constantly praised her brilliance, happily carting her around time and space with no intention of letting her go. In the BBC’s extended universe of novels/comics/cartoons/etc, there’s so much depth to their relationship: love and trust and trauma and sacrifice. They had their own special bond as mates, their own complexities — so it’s a bummer that it's forever overshadowed by the other things.

I’m not denying that there was a lot of stuff that sucked/was for sure toxic about Ten's S3 behavior, but so many of the things I've seen him catching flak for can be directly attributed to being A Clueless Fucking Alien Idiot (not a trait that’s unique to Ten) — as well as his flat-out obliviousness to Martha’s feelings.

So yes, I agree: if Rose never existed, he would have treated Martha differently as Nine. He also would have treated her differently as Ten. Certainly.

But Rose did exist, and when discussing canon, it matters.

“He tells me that he absolutely, 100% loves Rose... He tells me how my daughter; my wonderful, beautiful, clever little girl saved him from himself before… And he says that’s all because of me! I made her into the Rose Tyler that saved him.”

-Jackie Tyler, Flight Into Hull!

Martha got the short end of the stick in S3. She came round at the wrong place and time, but that doesn't mean it was all bad. It doesn't mean the Doctor didn’t adore her. It certainly doesn't mean the time they spent together was wasted or worthless. They were brilliant!

Sure, he could be a twat, but let it be known that he was a twat with Rose as well, both as Nine and Ten. I’m sure Tentoo can be plenty infuriating, too. So while I'll defend Ten (and Tentoo) into the ground forever and ever and ever, I'll concede that he's fucked up.

The Doctor is a certified Pain In The Ass. It’s one of the things I love so much about this character — dynamics.

But never forget that Martha was goddamn tough as nails and overcame every bit of it. She moved on with her life, and the Doctor moved on with his. One can only pray that, when they inevitably drag her back onto the show (which feels inevitable if I'm honest), we see at once that she's been living her best life for all these years.

[redlyriumidol]

a lot of the writing around sera is not great, more so in the sense that it's ~problematic~ or insensitive, but as someone who has spent time trying to emulate sera's speech patterns in writing, there are so many moments of brilliance where I've had to stop and say "how did that guy come up with this." a lot of sera's dialogue is just very creatively and cleverly written, imo. I consider myself pretty decent at writing specific accents/dialects but what makes sera difficult is she has her own dialect that this guy made up for her, her own way of speaking that is uniquely sera and matches no known dialect known to man or god. which makes absolute sense for her character, someone who has grown up with such a varied hodgepodge of influences and who sees and understands the world in a particular way that nobody else does.

this is just from an objective standpoint about sera's dialogue itself, i obviously have issues with a lot of her writing. particularly the dialogue choices in response to sera and the way I think her character arc was mishandled (or not handled, as it were.) but I personally don't think she was entirely terribly written. just because there are so many times when i see her dialogue and i'm like ughh that's so good.

[kuro-ousama]

Kaiba is so gay that he make other gays looked straight

[ikemengoessbrrrrr]

Doodles ft. Class rep Ataru

[daavidchiem]

drdt ch2 ep 13 spoilers

the david arei scene from this episode brought up something i've always meant to say, which is that their dynamic is so SO underrated! i feel like their impact on each other should be talked about much more...

[destinysbounty]

I know I have wayyy too many fan projects on my to-do list to warrant adding another one onto the pile (cough cough the 30-minute love triangle video essay), but for years now I've been wanting to do a rewrite/novelization of the Shadow of Ronin video game. Because like, the lore of this game has so many fucked up implications that never get acknowledged - but unlike with most fucked up Ninjago lore, the game is just obscure enough that not as many people are familiar with it enough to facilitate a broader discussion about this stuff. And dammit, I need at least one fic talking about how messed up SoR actually was and if I cannot find it I guess I'll just have to create it.

[punctuation-completionist]

did someone say quick book rec? no? well, too bad!

i don't really do great at doing book summaries so, i'll just list a few things that i think this book does that i really liked:

going into the history of punctuation (i mean, technically most of it is semicolon related punctuation history BUT it does show a few things about how the general usage of punctuation shifted over time from being more about diction vs being more about the diagramming and organization of sentences)

(my personal favorite part) going into semicolon usage in specific authors' works (from melville to chandler) and how they use the mark to their advantage or disadvantage. really great for any of you writers out there who really want to study how to use the semicolon to your advantage!

and then, of course, i think that cecelia watson also provides a good explanation for why grammar policing is a very petty sort of mentality. it's made more effective by the fact that she is speaking from personal experience and just generally, i think it is very helpful to break out of that mentality of right & wrong. i don't know if this is really a selling point but it is definitely interesting to me

i won't harp on it too long, but as a punctuation enthusiast i can't help but heartily recommend this book. i think it very much shaped my views of how punctuation works and i think that it really helped me as a writer. so, check it out if you're interested; take it from me, it really is a good book!

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

when I want to write something self indulgent to give me all the angsty and cuddly hurt/comfort feels but I can't because I end up feeling guilty because I'm seeking after feels that I feel in an inappropriate place because my mom told me one time when I was 15 that I shouldn't search that out or it's probably sexual sin but it confuses me because ALL the feels happen that way for me even if it's entirely platonic and nonsexual and so I don't know if it's okay to want to write to that because apparently all pleasure of any sort, even over platonic stories, is sexual or comes with a possibly probably sexual feeling and I also am having a hard time figuring out what's genuine conviction from God and what's just my anxiety/OCD/perfectionism/fear of failure

[owmylasagna-blog]

writing has been hard but drawing things I’ve already written is a bit easier

[grassbreads]

I’d love to know about Yulma and how important it is to representation in shounen manga

This has been sitting in my askbox for a couple months (because I am incapable of punctuality), but anon sent this to me back when I was talking about Yulma over on my vnc blog. For those unaware, Yulma refers to Yu Kanda and Alma Karma from the manga D.Gray-man.

So the thing is, to be honest, I don't know if you can say Yulma is/was important for representation. They don't tend to get brought up as an example of representation (except by diehard d.gray-man fans like me, lol) in shonen, and their whole thing is complicated enough that I feel like the queerness of it all flies over a lot of people's heads.

However! They're very important to me personally, and I do think it's kind of remarkable their story came out in like 2010. Because even though their queerness gets overlooked a lot, it's like. really there no matter how you interpret it.

The short version of their very complicated story is that Kanda and Alma are a couple who were resurrected into new bodies. Alma was a woman when they were originally together in their past lives, but is physically male in the present. Kanda is still very much in love with them by the end of their story, which, depending on the reading, makes Kanda very bi and/or Alma very trans.

This sound like something you want details on? If so, let's talk about how D.Gray-man's fan favorite edgy badass toughguy character briefly became the star of his very own heart-wrenching tragic queer romance.

Here's a brief crash course in Yu Kanda and Dgm for the uninitiated:

D.Gray-man is a manga about a group of exorcists (in the loosest and most anime sense of the term) in the 1890s fighting a holy war against mechanical demons powered by the souls of the dead. There are two things you need to understand about this plot for me to explain Yulma:

The Black Order, the secret branch of the church that exorcists work for, has a long history of committing horrific human experiments to further the war effort.

Due to complications of world building, only a tiny number of people can become exorcists, and tracking down new ones is extremely difficult.

Yu Kanda is one of the exorcists, and though not the actual main character (that's the lad in my icon), he's a very important secondary character. Arguably he's the most important secobdary character, since he's the main guy's biggest foil and the first character to play deuteragonist in a major story arc. He's also a huge fan favorite. The character popularity polls that Jump used to do always had him and the mc going back and forth over who won #1 most popular.

Kanda was also a classic edgy toughguy character. His first two scenes are him almost murdering the main guy because he thinks he's an intruder, then complaining about people grieving for their friend too loudly. He never smiles. He argues with the righteous mc about wasting time/energy protecting civilians. He threatens (and delivers) violence on anyone that annoys him. He looks like this:

TLDR; Kanda was an adored-by-fans mean badass archetype in a 2000s shonen manga. Not generally the guy you peg for starring in a piece of queer romantic storytelling.

And for the entirety of the original anime adaptation's 103 episode run, for the first 188ish chapters of the manga, you do not learn a single thing about his early life. You learn he joined the Black Order very young, and you meet the mentor that took him in at that point, but although there are little hints, a couple cryptic mentions of him searching for a certain person, his early origins remain a complete black box.

Then came the Alma Karma arc.

This is the point where I start getting into spoilers.

To make a very long story short, the Alma Karma arc reveals that Kanda is one of the Black Order's human experiments. The Order ran a secret project 9ish years before the start of the series in which they essentially tried to re-use dying exorcists (since finding new ones is so hard). They took the bodies of dying or recently deceased exorcists and harvested their brains, implanting those brains into new magically grown child bodies.

Key to this project—the second exorcist project—is that these newly grown second exorcists were not supposed to remember anything from their previous lives. Kanda, however, recovered a few hazy memories from his past self. Most importantly, he can recall an unclear image of the woman that his past self was in love with. This memory gradually becomes Kanda's reason to live. He wants desperately to find and meet that person.

Now, aside from Kanda, there was one other successfully revived second exorcist. This was a boy named Alma Karma.

Over the course of their brief shared childhood, Kanda and Alma become extremely close. However, due to a series of horrible events that I'll spare you the details of, Alma is eventually driven to murder-suicide. He wants himself and Kanda to die together to spite the Order, and Kanda almost lets him do it.

The one thing that keeps Kanda from letting Alma kill him, the thing that drives him instead to kill Alma, his most beloved and only friend, is that he can't bear to die without finding that woman again.

Have you figured out the twist yet?

9 years later, in the present, Kanda discovers that he didn't actually quite kill Alma. The Order kept Alma secretly half-alive in order to do more dubious experiments. And, more importantly, when they meet again, Kanda discovers the truth. The woman that he's been searching for his whole life, the woman he's in love with, the woman he tried to kill Alma in order to find, was also killed and made into a second exorcist. And her brain was placed into the body of Alma Karma.

After quite a lot more violence and tragedy, Kanda and Alma end their story arc by running away together on their deathbeds. Alma dies, for real this time, in Kanda's arms, and his last words are to tell Kanda he loves him. These words are presented as something Kanda hears from both the boy and woman versions of Alma's soul.

So! At the end of a very long and complicated story, one thing holds true: Kanda and Alma are in love. As passed down from their past selves, they are specifically in romantic love. They were a couple. And to speak as a fan, the sheer absolute devotion to how Kanda's love for Alma is presented is seriously intense and moving.

Now, given the absolute hell that is Alma's life, gender identity is frankly the last thing they have time to worry about, so it's hard to say how the whole "literally a woman's brain in a male body" thing might have settled for them if given time to think about it. But that is inherently a pretty trans narrative. And given the whole Alma gender situation, there's simply no reading of their whole situation where neither of them is queer.

If you take present day Alma as a guy, which is more or less how he's presented in canon (though again, who knows how he would've felt about that male body in different circumstances), then congratulations! You've got mlm in your shonen manga. They were straight in a different life, but now one of them's a dude, and they are still deeply in love with each other. They've even got not one but two "let's forget it all and run away together" scenes, just as every mlm couple seems to have.

On the other hand, if you go with the angle that Alma's still a woman based on her mind/soul, even in her new body, then Kanda may not be canonically queer, but Alma is inarguably trans. Again, literally a woman's brain in a male body. It may not be how most people end up trans, but that doesn't change the facts of her situation.

You see what I mean about how they're undeniably queer, but also kind of easy to miss? There's so much other insane shit going on in their story that Alma's whole gender situation can get passed over. Plus, you can look online to this day and find people arguing that Kanda's not "technically" explicitly in love with the present day male version of Alma, since he doesn't 100% unambiguously say as much. I love reading comprehension.

Also! As a possible extra reason for why people don't talk about them much, the official English translation of the manga translated Alma's final "I love you" very differently. There's always a lot of nuance and argument when it comes to translating "大好き" into English, but given the full context of their relationship and the scene it's in, Viz's handling really sets off the censorship bells in my head.

Here's the different versions (Japanese then fan then official), if you want to compare:

Nothing more classically queer than censorship by way of questionable translation 🙃.

At the end of the day, Kanda and Alma are in kind of a strange middle ground. They're each in love with the other one, but the whole second exorcist brain transfer situation makes it complicated enough that people argue their feelings aren't explicitly romantic (and thus not gay) in the present. Alma is literally a woman's brain implanted in a male body, but we don't have time to dwell on the gender complications of all that because of the hell that is the rest of their life. They're canon but not canon—queer people whose stories don't have space for them to be queer.

However, given that all this messy, tragic ambiguity was published in a fairly popular shonen manga back in 2010, it still feels kind of remarkable to me. Alma is somewhat an antagonist (it's complicated), and he dies at the end of his arc, but once again, Kanda was/is the fan favorite! And when he re-enters the main story after Alma's death, he's more important than he's ever been, and his history with Alma continues to be a huge part of his character.

Katsura Hoshino took the much-beloved edgy toughguy character from her long-running shonen series and, after keeping his origins secret for such a long time, confirmed that his whole life has revolved around love this entire time. Almost every facet of his character can be traced back to his love for his lost best friend or his yearning for his past life's missing partner. And then she reveals that the best friend and the partner are one and the same.

You can go back and forth about the degree to which they work as representation, but in any case, I think their story is something people ought to know about. It's romantic and it's heart-wrenching and it's fucking wild, especially given the context in which it was published (a Shonen Jump spinoff in 2010). I never see anyone besides the few remaining hardcore dgm fans talk about them, and I think that's a shame.

So anyway, that's tale of one of the most insanity-inducing romances I've ever seen put to paper. I love queer people.

Here's some choice pages if you want to cry with me (the last two are a sequence):

[zukkaoru]

too long since i've been a fool

“Would I not look hot with an eyebrow slit?” There’s a beat of silence, and then— Kunikida sighs deeply. “How long have you been considering this?” “Not important,” Chuuya waves the question aside. “Look me in the eye and tell me an eyebrow slit wouldn’t be hot as fuck.”

aka chuuya with an eyebrow slit propaganda

🪒 2.2k words 🪒 kunichuu, established relationship

[ninety-two-bees]

roswell AU in which the black brothers are aliens just trying to live their lives and blend in with humans, but they’re hopelessly in love with two humans (james and remus) and there’s just no way things can end well

queue james and remus somehow finding out that regulus and sirius are literal aliens and have freaky powers, and choosing to help protect their identities from others in the town that also have their suspicions

regulus and sirius end up getting hunted down by some violent anti-alien conspiracy theorists and it puts both them and their boyfriends in danger of being captured or killed or something idk