#yeeting old stuff from my drafts

[wisteriagoesvroom]

f1 text posts (part 4/?)

[maleficore]

Saw someone else do it and I think I've done this before too, but the list has grown since then a bit so here's my current lineup of read dead wips that I'm working on!! :D Minus the stuff that's already posted on AO3 cuz I see no point in doing a synopsis for things that have left my google drive and you can go and read ahah.

Turned out loooooong so lookie under the cut if you're interested in knowing what I'm up to.

Morston Soulmate AU (title tba, multichapter, around 20-30k when finished) - An AU where you can feel all the injuries your soulmate gets, both minor and major ones. There's no soul marks, seeing your soulmate get hurt and connecting the dots is the only way to find out. Has a lot of time skips and focuses more on feelings than events, but starts out pre-canon when John almost gets lynched and works its way towards the end of the canon story. Chapters alternate between Arthur's and John's POV. Canon compliant :)

RDR2 "Modern AU" (title tba, multichapter, long as shit) - I only call it a modern AU for the sake of simplicity... I'm not sure if it counts as one. Set in 1999 and focuses on the case of Arthur Matthews -- a 36 year old adoptive son of the infamous criminal defence lawyer Hosea Matthews, who went missing without a trace for six months and then reappeared miles from his hometown, seemingly unharmed, but also... not quite right. Delusional, confused, suffering from some sort of memory impairment. The story is about Arthur struggling to adapt to being back home in a reality that is apparently foreign to him. Outsider's/John's POV, but not really shippy. It can be read as pre-slash, though.

My Self-Indulgent Jesse/Arthur fic (another title tba lol, it's too early to tell but I'm thinking multichapter? A collection of scenes from 1878 to 1899) - This one is for me and me only, though I will eventually post it 😂 Written in second person, like a reader-insert and can be read as one if someone wants to, but I am including Jesse's backstory and feelings that are way too specific to be immersive for anyone but myself... I'm working real hard to write it in a way that portrays growing up queer in that time somewhat realistically, so it's not always pretty, but I do try to keep it not that depressing. Features: Jesse's early-life backstory, the story of the scar, his first Gay Experience, how his brothers died, the ups and downs of his relationship with Arthur, why they eventually broke up for what felt like last time, how he got arrested (altered RDO storyline bit) and how he got back up with the gang. I'm planning to do a rough rewrite/fix-it of the canon story with him in it too, but that's... an "one day" thing ajsddjfk

Morston Omegaverse (title tba, one shot, around 10-15k probably? I can't keep things short, sorry) - Young-ish and freshly presented Alpha John, "Closeted" Omega Arthur. Ngl this one is smutty as hell... but! I think my take on omegaverse is rather fun (very transgendered) and it's porn WITH not without plot so something for everyone there lol. John's POV again + lotsa feelings, misunderstandings and some angst :) Just the way I like it.

Vandermatthews Daemon AU (had a title but ao3 yeeted my draft and I forgot what it was, oops)- I say Vandermatthews, but it's more of a "curious couple, unruly son" genfic than real slashfic 😅 This is supposed to be the beginning a series of oneshots from different characters' POV. This one is maybe a 1/3 done (needs a serious rewrite tho) and written from Hosea's POV. It's about him and Dutch finding and taking in young Arthur -- a very traumatised child who has undergone intercision and therefore lost his daemon. More of a collection of vignettes from that moment to when they take in John than a real coherent fic tho. The next one is going to be John's POV coming of age thing and we'll see where my brain will go from there. I want to do a separate big ass post about this one later because I have Opinions on the gang members' daemons that I need either challenged or validated...

1907!John/Isaac fic (title tba... a two parter, one set in the epilogue and the second is a RDR1 fix-it) - NOW HEAR ME OUT!!!!!! PUT DOWN THE GODDAMN PITCHFORKS FOR A SECOND PLS This is a plot bunny that Refused To Fucking Die. Isaac is obviously an adult in this (22), they have never met before, and the story begins in the months where Abigail and Jack were gone and John worked alone on Pronghorn ranch. It's not so much a romance (despite the slash) but more two people dealing with different types of grief in Very Unhealthy ways, okay. It's supposed to be a bit iffy because of that and the... 12 years of difference between them in this universe. I'm not trying to make this shit uwu or anything. It's also a bit of a daddy issues vent piece for me and I've been working it for MONTHS because I want to write this one right. This is the the fic I redacted in my last WIP showcase, but now decided that... fuck it. Here you go.

(Doubt anyone has made it this far, but if you did ily.. please lemme know what you think? My ask box is open for questions too... I love talking about the stuff I'm working on even if it's not posted yet ❤)

[marvellousstawler]

So, months ago, I found my old writing, wrote a post after getting inspired, forgot that I had saved the draft of that post, found the same old writing again (having forgotten that I had found it earlier in the year), got inspired by it again, went to write a new post about it, and found the draft of the old post. Thanks amnesia!

Thus, instead of posting a journal this week because I haven't written it yet and don't really want to do it this evening on account of being inspired, you're getting this draft I made from literally several months ago that I never actually posted. Enjoy?

Oh wait no. Holy crap, I just reread this post before posting it and realised it was a completely different draft from months ago, after getting inspired by my old writing, that I never actually posted. So maybe you'll get that one next week or maybe you'll get it another time anyway who cares read my drivel.

---

So. I found my old writing!

I say “old.” It’s probably from about three or four years ago, I definitely remember showing it to some people at Uni. And I say “found,” I opened my backup folder on my Google Drive. But! The improvement in my understanding of writing and story construction (as well as my capacity to set achievable goals) is so noticeable, that it *feels* old.

As such I spent most of my workday yesterday checking out my old writing on company time. Most people who do this go off about how their writing is “cringe,” but my writing isn’t yet old enough to have achieved cringe. (And the stuff that would be old enough was all lost in the iPad Pages Purge Of ‘16, RIP). But no, in my case, the worst thing I can say about my writing was that it was boring and uninspired. Most of it was more telling than showing because I had SO much to cover, because I started with way too much on my plate.

But beneath the boring stuff there were some genuinely inspiring concepts buried in there, which is good, because the work I’m currently doing is built on the corpse’s corpse’s corpse of a story that started when I was 12. Nisa, my current antagonist, is an explicitly Mary-Sue villain built from my unwittingly Mary-Sue protagonist from back in the day. Typically the compelling stuff is not about Nisa, in fact most of the stuff from the backup folder that could feasibly called cringe is about her. I still wasn’t fully comfortable being gay, so nearly every chapter is someone else talking about how great Nisa is, while still having this half-hearted “but she’s like, still really clumsy and stupid ok” air about it.

But!! It was the chapters who weren’t about Nisa at all who had the interesting concepts in them. Most notably, I had a prequel for a pair of “reformed villains” (they were just heroes the whole time because I don’t know how to not make everyone a protagonist), and in this prequel, Sorrel (who you will recognise as a protagonist for the current prologue when TDD actually gets posted) has been dead for nine years before coming back to life because of primordial god shenanigans. She died a martyr, having left a set of instructions for how to build a government for her murderer to follow and ratify out of guilt (i don’t have time to explain the context and it was never concrete, but it did make a modicum of sense at the time). When she revives, the country she left behind HAS been rebuilt, but clearly her brutish murderer fudged the instructions. And is also nowhere to be found, which is important because she was supposed to be running the place.

And that’s a cool concept! Showing up and realising that while you’ve been gone the political and social structure of the world you left behind is BONKERS. And the good news is, I have an organic way to introduce it into TDD. Nisa and She-Bear spend like 20 years being trapped in a moon and holding the moon together respectively, meaning that when the pressure builds and the moon explodes (they’ll be fine) they’ll be yeeted onto a planet they used to lead which now has like, shopping malls and toll roads.

I accidentally typed “shopping mauls” initially and that is an idea that people are welcome to take further.

[roanniom]

i would be super interested in hearing about what your writing process is like! e.g. do you write large amounts in a few sittings, or sporadic bits across lots of sessions? do you edit as you go, or do you go back at the end for a once over? do you reread your work after it’s been posted? how do you get yourself to write when you may not be in the mood? how do you combat writers block? how do new ideas come to you? what’s your biggest motivation to write? etc. etc. etc. (that’s a lot of questions oops—don’t feel pressured to answer them all!!)

Hi anon! I love talking about my writing on here, so happy to answer.

I usually write large amounts. Generally speaking I will have a draft going and then I'll keep coming back to it, but most of a fic will be written in like three big spurts. It really depends on the piece. What often happens is I will work on it in bits and then finish the entire second half all in one sitting because I get impatient and I just want it done. I do not edit at all really. I do my best to catch typos, and after it's posted if I notice typos I will go back and try to adjust, but I don't sit and read through to edit. I also post it the SECOND it is finished. It's the reason I don't use any fun art or fancy formatting. I swear to god, it's like if I don't post something the MILLISECOND it is out of my brain I will jump out of my skin so I just yeet it into the void of tumblr and take a deep breath.

I reread my work all the time. The day I've posted something I'll usually read it because I kinda blackout when I write, so it is super fun for me to read and go "wow, that's cool, I like that" because I sort of disassociate. It feels like someone else wrote it because I don't remember writing it usually lol. And then I'll reread an old fic if someone reblogs it or engages with it and I realize I don't remember it well.

First and foremost I write for me. I write what I am entertained by, I write what turns me on, I write what I fantasize about. That's why, despite my definitive intention to write inclusive reader characters, I predominantly write fem!reader - this is wish fulfillment for me and I do it to benefit me lol. So I enjoy rereading my own fics because they are tailormade to my taste, my kinks, my preferences. Not saying I do it constantly, but yep! I read them.

Inspiration is easy. Everyone on here is just as feral as I am and I am lucky enough that people send me in really juicy requests and thots and would you rathers and those are amaaaaazing jumping off points. My problem is that people send me way more good ideas than I have the time to write so my inbox and drafts are FULL.

As for writing and getting in the mood - I do not make myself write if I'm not in the mood. This is not my job. Nobody is paying me to do this. I only do it because I feel like it, so if I don't feel like it, I do not force myself to do anything.

With writer's block, that only happens on part 2s and 3s. It's the reason I am mainly a one shot bitch. The pressure builds and gets to me and it makes it easier to put writing off. I'm trying to become better about it, but also be kind to myself because, again, I am doing this for fun.

What's lucky is that I often AM in the mood, so that's not an issue. Inspiration comes from reading other people's fics to be honest. I LOVE reading fic, even more than writing it, so I consume a lot. What often happens is I'll read a fic and expect it to go a certain way and if it doesn't I'll go "hmmm...well now I will write that." Or if I realize I like a tone or something, I mentally begin riffing on it and decide to write it my own way. I read a lot of romance novels, too (many of which are a LOT shittier than some of the amazing fanfics I've read) and that keeps me well versed in tropes and conventions and I like to try my hand at different ones.

Last but not least....I'm very horny and very repressed and very bored lol.

I've said it before and will say it again - I write this stuff because I don't have it my life and this is my kind of manifestation. <3

[enigma-absolute]

10, 17, and 18 for the Eddsworld asks! >:3c

10. What do you think is the funniest joke in the series?

Damn, that’s a GOOD question. So much so that I had look back on a couple eddisodes to make me think, but here’s my response.

I think it’s in the comics.

Not that the show doesn’t have some great jokes, but the funniest of them for me are within the comics. Specifically with Edd’s last era prior to Space Face releasing, and a little into the start of Legacy. They were how I got into Eddsworld in the first place.

A good chunk of my improvised humour was learned from Edd’s ability to make anything a visual or linguistic pun. I get more of a chuckle out of stuff such as ‘immature cheese’, ‘wrapper in my pocket’, ‘Dr Names’ and that one arc of Matt getting an honest-to-god date.

That being said, I loved seeing Tom getting spun around and yeeted by that tank in the Moviemakers montage. Also, from the end of said montage:

Laurel: I wonder what happened to all those space cats... Edd: Well, do you see that tiny speck up in the sky? Laurel: Yeah? Edd: That isn’t them. They’re dead.

Edd’s delivery of that line legit makes me crack a grin and chuckle.

17. Which Eddsworld character do you relate to the most, and why?

Again, good question.

After thinking on it a bit, I think it’d still be Edd, and not just because he’s my favourite.

In the classic era, he’s the artist/animator, the one who initiates the initiative of the episodes and is simultaneously DONE with his friends’ antics AND eggs them on further.

Sounds like my kind of guy.

(Actually, on a writer’s note, Edd taking the initiative for adventures is what I think has been missing from much of Legacy AND Beyond’s writing. He took the initiative to go to Atlantis when Matt lost the fridge keys, and when Tom bought that film camera with all their life savings, he took the initiative of making a film instead of just relying on a 2008 YouTube clickbait video Tom made. His friends started it, sure, but EDD was the one who kept saying ‘alright, let’s go get this stuff done’ AND DID IT.)

(I think I could write a whole thing on how this is really the show’s Writing Engine, and how it started to vanish circa Hammer and Fail Part Two and Space Face, but that’s another day. Or time. Or ask. Speaking of writing…)

18. If you could write an episode, what would it be about?

Oh BOY. Buckle up, I’ve got several ideas swirling in my head and I’m about to pitch them - hell, if any of you think they have standing power, hit me up and we can figure out a way to team up and make them exist!

Suction Cup Man vs Tord’s Giant Robot. It’s a more fully fleshed-out version of the voice-acting post I did for a skit a while back, and I’m unashamed to say that it’s a roughly copied plot of SCM 2 (including references to it and all).

Suction Cup Man gets captured by a mystery man from the future to take down some jerk’s giant robot in the present. Cut to The End Part Two with Tord gloating in the giant robot, and it all goes to chaos from here.

Fun fact about this one: I’ve already handwritten most of the script’s first draft, and have three different endings planned out, but I’m not sure which one would be best for the skit. They’re all good in their own ways, but whilst I had the initial idea to PrynceJJayden of twitter fame, I’m not sure if he’d be accepting of script pitches from other people at this point in time. On top of that, I don’t know if his VA talent who does Tord (@/The_Rey_Rey on twitter) would be keen to do that sort of thing too.

PowerEdd 2: The Devious Drenchings of Doctor H2O. (Formerly titled The Eddvengers, but considering there’s an AU with that name already, this seems more appropriate.)

When a freak science experiment near the antiques store strikes the lads, Edd’s superhero powers return, and this time Tom and Matt join with their own. But their enemy isn’t an evil director or an old friend, but some maniac with a drinking water tank on his head and a desire to sink London into his New Atlantis.

If the name ‘Doctor H2O’ sounds familiar to some of you, he was actually a villain character Edd Gould created! You can find an uncoloured drawing of him from Edd’s old tumblr from about 2011.

This story idea also has some meat to it - lore pages on how their powers worked, old script bits, writing ideas - with the intention of becoming an audio drama as so not to stress out animators. I still have the notebook I scrawled the idea out in from years ago, and I even had some concept art from current-day EW animator Fran Pun!

Unfortunately, as much as the more influential people behind the first attempt had resources, fame and means to make it, this one fell onto the back burner due to unclear plot beats (my fault), no scheduling (this was just a bad habit in general from said people) and one of my co-writers just… not going anywhere with it. Some jokes from him felt a little forced. Gratefully though, I still have the intro scene script somewhere in my drives, and I think it holds up. I’d love to come back to this one someday.

Miniseries: Through the Time Machine

Saloonatics had the Wild West, WTFuture gave us time travel, so what if we went back and forth in time to find our favourite lads having adventures in other points of history?

Before Penguins of Madagascar was my first fandom experience, Phineas and Ferb was my first Fan experience, even just from mostly flash games online and watching the episodes in pieces on YouTube. But what I remembered most was a miniseries of specials where the formula for the show was translated into different time periods and story genres to give a unique flavouring to the stories.

So come on, imagine: Eddsworld Caveman episode. Eddsworld pirates episode. Eddsworld Medieval episode. Even an Eddsworld Y2K Futurism… future… episode. (Look, all I’m saying is that the aesthetic could SLAP.)

Would there be an overarching plot? Not really, they could just be for fun! And I’d love to throw my hat in the ring to try it out. It’d be so much fun!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 290: It’s Touya Time

Previously on BnHA: Iida and Hadou showed up like a couple of Pennsylvanias and Georgias to bail Shouto out at the last minute. Ochako and Toga had an exceptionally strange fight which consisted of Toga being all “guess what Ochako, I used your quirk to murder someone, how do you feel about that”, and Ochako being all “I do not like that”, to which Toga was all “:(”. There was some doll-stealing and some bookcase-yeeting, and then Toga left in tears because Ochako was all adamant that murder has consequences. Anyway so I have absolutely no idea what Toga is thinking now, but I guess we’ll have some time to stew on it, because we ended the chapter by cutting back to the Iida+Hadou+Shouto VS Afomura battle, which was interrupted by Gigantomachia and the LoV showing up like a bunch of Floridas to ruin everyone’s nice day.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi hands the mic over to Dabi and is all “take it away, kid.” Over in Room 315 of Musutafu General, Rei is all “may I please watch some TV” and the hospital staff is all “sure”, and so she tunes in just in time to catch Todoroki Touya’s Peabody Award-winning documentary “Number One Hero, Number One Fraud: The Todoroki Enji Story”, which is being broadcast nationwide courtesy of Skeptic and his magic laptop. Meanwhile in Jakku, Dabi is all “I’M TOUYA, BITCHES”, and Shouto and Enji are all, “(゜◇゜ )”, and Dabi is all, “anyway so just to sum it all up, because of how much of a jerk Endeavor was, I am now Evil.” Everyone continues to be all “(ﾟoﾟ)” except for Dabi, who is all “└(˘▾˘┌ )≡ ( ┐˘▾˘)┘≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛≡┏( ˘▾˘)┓≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛” for pretty much the rest of the chapter. Idk. Just let the man have his fun, guys. He’s waited a long time for this.

y’all I have a confession to make. I am technically not spoiled for this chapter thanks to my robustly paranoid system of spoiler-tag-filtering, which is extensive enough that it pretty much will catch whenever someone so much as breathes something even remotely new-chapter-related. that being said, I like to think that I am capable of making basic logical inferences! and so the fact that for the past 36 hours, my dashboard has pretty much nonstop consisted almost entirely of this...

...has led me to conclude that MAYBE, POSSIBLY, PROBABLY, BUT ALSO DEFINITELY, a certain someone is finally going to reveal his ~secret identity~ woop woop. lmao

anyway so everyone, please remember to act surprised though, as we would not want Dabi’s feelings to be hurt at all. he has been planning this moment for the last decade or so and I wouldn’t want him to feel like all of that effort was for naught. so just play along, okay. OH MY, IF IT ISN’T THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS’ MYSTERIOUS DABI. WHATEVER COULD HIS ARRIVAL POSSIBLY BE HERALDING, I JUST DON’T KNOW

“Dabi’s Dance” lmao. I’m sticking with Touya Time myself. ngl I had this recap title planned out for at least the past year or so. just waiting for that day to finally come

anyway so some people in some building somewhere are all “TURN OFF THE TV IN ROOM 315” and idk. I’m guessing the LoV is hacking the airwaves to livestream the reveal, as predicted

-- oh shit. UHHHHHHHH

did she always have this TV or did she get it just recently?? jfc of all the times for the hospital staff to finally loosen up

um... so that’s... (・＿・；)

well but I mean, she was gonna find out one way or the other at some point though. like you can’t really just keep her locked up and isolated from all news of the outside world forever and ever and ever. granted, this isn’t exactly the ideal way for her to learn this particular bit of information, but it’s not really ideal for anybody else either! EXCEPT DABI, THAT IS. have yourself a day you funky little terrorist

oh shit what is this?? it’s not live???

over in Jakku, a red-faced, sputtering Dabi makes a frantic grab for Skeptic’s laptop. “WAIT, NO, JESUS, NOT THAT TAPE!”

lol. but seriously Dabi are you even wearing a shirt. like I’m not one to slutshame anyone bro, but it’s just, exactly what type of mood were you looking to set here??

anyway so we really are cutting back to Jakku now, and Gigantomachia is all, “MASTERS”! which, I wonder if he really did use the plural? that’s right Machia, both of them in one place now! that sure is convenient for you huh

lol what is this with all this AFO monologuing. you’re really gonna make me read through this when I’m sitting here all sleep-deprived from election week. JUST GET TO THE TOUYAS. WE WERE PROMISED TOUYAS!!

sigh

“tee hee it’s fucking hilarious how goddamn powerful I am now lol”

alas, in spite of myself I do have two serious takeaways from this. one is that AFO is still controlling most of Tomura’s body behind the scenes, which both does and doesn’t bode well for Tomura (like, at least he’s not dying, but the long-term implications of this for his free will and such certainly are not Good). and two is that this confirms that Ujiko did give Tomura at least one powerful mutant quirk, which explains why he was still so deadly and indestructible even when Aizawa was using Erasure on him (since Erasure doesn’t work on mutant quirks, just emitter and transformation ones)

MEANWHILE ON TODAY’S EPISODE OF “TODOROKI SHOUTO’S TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD LIFE”

I like how he doesn’t actually say that he can’t take on Gigantomachia. just that he can’t take on him and Afomura at the same time. that’s confidence, baby. that right there is why you always draft Todoroki Shouto in the first round for your fantasy team

HADOU!!!!

OOOH, TOMURA’S ALL “MAN, THIS GIRL’S WAVE POWERS AND THIS KID’S ICE POWERS ARE A SUPER-STRONG COMBO DAGNABBIT.” YESSS I LIKE THAT, TELL ME MORE ABOUT HOW COOL AND POWERFUL THEY ARE

HOT DAMN LOOK AT THAT

um but not to take away from this exceptionally cool moment or anything, but why is Endeavor dying and shouting “RUN” down there in the corner um

oh

excuse me. not to take away from How Bad This All Is, but!!

just a little, smol, IidaBaku for everyone. Iida, who apparently doesn’t know a damn thing about first aid and is all, “hmm that’s a pretty bad-looking puncture wound he has in his left shoulder there, I think I’ll just let his arm dangle freely like that and I won’t bother taking off his heavy gauntlets either. I mean. he’ll be fine, probably.” smh. at least Shouto probably cauterized the wounds

EXCUSE ME WHAT

TIME FOR MORE OF THAT GOOD OLD FASHIONED SHOUNEN RIDICULOUSNESS I GUESS LMAO. KACCHAN YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO. THERE IS A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, AND YOU LOST LIKE FOUR GALLONS OF BLOOD, BUT SURE. “PUT ME DOWN” HE SAYS. FIRST OF ALL, PUTTING ASIDE THE FACT THAT YOU ABSOLUTELY SHOULD NOT BE CONSCIOUS, THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN GOING TO DO, LIE DOWN AT THEM?? LISTEN, YOU SWEET IDIOT. TAKE HEED, BELOVED DUMBASS!!

ah well. I guess he gets to watch the Touya Show now too then lol

LMAOOOO now Machia’s lifting Tomura carefully in his palm like a broken action figure and Spinner is all “THE FUCK, YOU LOOK LIKE DEATH WARMED OVER”

“oh hey there Spinner. well let’s see, I woke up from my three-month coma and destroyed a city, had my body incinerated, and am currently being possessed by a diabolically evil potato. but please, tell me more about everything you've been through”

AW YISS AND THE FOCUS NOW SHIFTS TO THE TODOROKIS. EVERYTHING IS PROCEEDING EXACTLY AS WE HAVE FORESEEN

Endeavor my dude. it’s as if you want to die here. also holy shit, that bit about his lungs definitely does not bode well for him either

MOTHERFUCKER

GO AHEAD AND SIGN YOUR OWN DEATH CERTIFICATE, WHY DON’T YOU!! FLAGS UPON FLAGS. JESUS CHRIST

meanwhile Dabi’s just waving at ‘em

lmaoooo please oh please Caleb please keep this ‘EYYYYYYY’, it’s fucking perfect kdlshk;hg

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: so as you will see very shortly, I completely missed this detail in my first read-through because I was so anxious to get to the reveal page, but THIS MOTHERFUCKER LITERALLY DOUSED HIMSELF WITH INSTANT HAIR DYE REMOVER THAT HE’S JUST BEEN CARRYING AROUND IN A LITTLE HIP POUCH APPRENTLY SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME. MOTHERFUCKER. I HAVE NO WORDS.)

IS THIS THE TIME. IS THIS THE MOMENT?! HERE IT COMES SLKFHS BRACE YERSELVES LADS

EYYYYYYYYYYYY

OKAY EVERYONE JUST LIKE WE PRACTICED!! SURPRISED FACES ON THREE! ONE... TWO... (•̪ o •̪) !! okay how was that

LMAO ENDEAVOR

at least Shouto looks properly stunned. Enji just looks like endeavor.exe just straight up stopped working

meanwhile Deku’s out here trying to do the math on this latest surprise family reveal! first Tomura is related to Nana, and now this. what’s next. who are you related to, Spinner. he rips off his boots to reveal engine legs and declares himself Iida’s long-lost uncle

oh shit Touya

it’s as if a million fanworks suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly jossed. who knew that all this time he was secretly sporting a crop top scar

also, THIRTY?! holy shit son you been busy

la la la two-page spread of Touya casually driving the dagger into Endeavor’s hero career and rocking the foundations of hero society as we know it la la la

la la la!!!

OH IS THAT THE END OF THE STORY THEN

almost got confused for a sec. there’s two monologues happening at once here. Endeavor doesn’t even know that his dirty laundry is being aired out nation-wide as we speak ffffff

btw while I appreciate the close-ups of Enji and Shouto here for sure, ngl I would also really love to see everyone else’s reactions right now. SHOW ME BAKUGOU AND THE LOV YOU COWARDS

is his hair actually turning white all of a sudden?? your hair dye just reacts on command??

(ETA: in all seriousness though, the hell kind of hair dye was he using? all he has to do is pour a bottle of that stuff and not even lather it in and it’s just gone just like that?? what the fuck would have have done if it ever rained lmao.

and this motherfucker just goes and leaves the dye remover in afterwards, too. I have never dyed my hair in my life and even I can tell you that’s probably not a good idea, Dabi.)

is this it. is this the legendary Dabi Dance in action. lmfao

oh hey what the fuck

so you figured you’d just murder your innocent younger brother to get revenge on dad, huh. well that’s nice

is that really all there is to the origin story though?? feels like we’re still missing a huge chunk of it. what was it that finally sent him over the edge? or was the trauma of being created as Endeavor’s perfect little hero tool and then being subsequently rejected by him enough on its own? because I’m still kind of confused on the part where he goes from “abused and discarded by his father” to “killed thirty people and was plotting the murder of his own brother” to tell you the truth

(ETA: lmao the initial fandom reaction to this did not disappoint. listen guys. people can be traumatized and shaped by awful circumstances that are completely out of their control, and grow up to be people they wouldn’t have grown up to be if things had been better, and all of that absolutely sucks, but. it doesn’t mean they get a get-out-of-jail-free card for all of their future actions, either! the tragedy of this situation is that terrible things happened to Touya, and he then went on to do terrible things himself. the tragedy of it is that this is exactly how the cycle of abuse keeps repeating itself on and on and on. maybe one of the people Dabi killed had a child who will now grow up traumatized themselves, and potentially go on to pay it forward themselves when they grow up. the tragedy is that the eye-for-an-eye justice that Touya is seeking out won’t actually make anything better in the end. the tragedy is that we understand why Touya is so angry, but that anger has basically warped him into the gleefully sadistic dancing figure we see in this chapter who has stopped caring about anyone else’s pain or suffering and just wants his own revenge.

anyway. basically what I’m trying to say is that it’s possible for the concepts of “Todoroki Touya was an innocent child and a victim of abuse” and “Dabi is a grown-ass motherfucking adult who killed thirty people and PROBABLY NEEDS TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THAT” to coexist lol. like, y’all wanted your moral grey, well HERE YOU GO lmao, eat up.)

lol but LOOK AT THAT BOY DANCE HIS LITTLE HEART OUT though

Todoroki Touya confirmed not a fan of the Endeavor redemption arc huh. well we all saw this coming lols

anyways here’s a sexy Touya for y’all

you really are the most theatrical bitch I s2g lmao

also for real though, what is happening with his hair? anime team in shambles here. they’re probably just gonna double down and keep it red. too bad though cuz this is a surprisingly good look on him

SO MANY CLOSE-UPS OF THE TODOROKI FACES

friendly reminder that Dabi without a doubt REHEARSED this speech like a thousand fucking times. LET US FALL TOGETHER!! COME DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL. apparently if you fake your own death in middle school you will never mentally age past that point and will remain a permanent chuuni

OH LMAO THAT’S THE END

we really just gonna end on “DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL”, huh. very well then. you know what song to play, Horikoshi. one, two... YOU ARE MY DAD. YOU’RE MY DAD!! BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE

[pencilofawesomeness]

Noticed in your tags about a mystogan-albedo comparison... 👀👀 What about a genshin impact-fairy tail crossover? What characters would you love see interact, HTRYDS or not?

Fam I thought so hard about this, I forgot it in my drafts. I blame the fact that it somehow gave me a mini existential crisis that I hadn't previously considered a genshin impact-fairy tail crossover, despite the fact that I love those two fandoms, and I love crossovers.

Obviously I don't have anything concrete, but I am more than happy to share some of the random thoughts I put together since you asked. Planning crossovers always makes me happy.

Rambling in 3...2...1...

My go to is always dumping characters in Mondstadt. Maybe because Mondstadt is my comfort-nation, and for some reason, Genshin makes me want to let the characters relax a little. Unless they're from Mondstadt, in which case, ha: sad boi stick. (I love the Mondstadt characters so much.) If I were to set a scenario in an actual-story style, I would probably still go loose with the plot part and make it more scenario-based. For instance, when the Fairy Tail peeps (plus Mystogan) get transported very conveniently from Edolas to Earthland, they could get dumped in Teyvat instead. Or, because my brain is stuck on HTRYDS because what is canon?, Some Other Thing happens and sticks a large chunk on them off-world and they have to find their way back. In the spirit of 100YQ and things-I-probably-won't-write, I'd even displace the entire guild, because it would be hilarious.

The multiverse is canon in both franchises, so the possibility of them being connected isn't out of the question. Besides, you know what both worlds have? (not currently in abundance) That's right, dragons.

I really want Natsu to find out about Dvalin and just....hyperactive his way into Stormterror's Lair, with absolutely no recognition but no fear, and find Dvalin just to question him about Dragon Stuff. The other dragon slayers would "go to stop him" but also tag along because dragon. Or more specifically, dragon that's not Acno and not an Earthland dragon. ("Alien dragons" —Natsu, probably.) Either way, Dvalin would be confused, and Acno would be in the back banging his head on something and/or trying to drag the kids away from invading the home of a dragon for curiosity's sake.

On that note, Acno would be very weirded out by the fact that there are some dragons around, but...none of them would associate him with, well, being the ultimate dragon killer. That said, he wouldn't be comfortable. At least not at first.

I also would like to think that any of the dragonlings could just...immediately know that Zhongli was a dragon. By scent or something. Zhongli would be very bemused.

Also, Zhongli and Acno could have old-man bonding time, except for once, Zhongli out-old-mans Acno by a lot, and he acts like it. (Loke being the only other ancient guy around.) Not to mention they could bond over committing war-crimes. (I kid. Sorta.)

Albedo would be very interested in the slew of otherworlders who can do magic without Visions, as it would make his scientist brain happy. I totally would love for someone to point at the fact that Albedo is somehow a cross between Mystogan and Jellal—smart, obsessive researcher, doesn't think highly of himself, quiet, doesn't like crowds—and he gets christened as the Ultimate Jellal. All three of them would be very confused, especially Albedo.

That said, Albedo and (htryds) Natsu actually have a lot in common. Being that they are both non-humans who were created by a family(ish) figure (whom they care for) but was yeeted away with little to no explanation as to why. I don't know if they would actually discover this about each other in a crossover scenario, since this stuff is kept close to the chest (especially with Albedo) but it's fun to compare them nonetheless.

Erza would be, absolutely thrilled with the amount of honest-to-God knights. (Even if none of the Knights of Favonius are stereotypical, they have the title and part of the aesthetic, and Erza would geek out nonetheless.) Like, other people who use swords, wear armor, and uses magic?? (Elements, whatever.) She would fascinated. On that note, I would totally want to see Erza and Eula meet, because those two would be quite the pair. Erza would appreciate Eula's fighting style, and she wouldn't even blink at her use of expressions. Eula would be off-put by Erza's sincerity at first, of course, but Eula would appreciate the simultaneous lack of judgement and lack of pity, since Erza has zero context for Eula's background. That said, Erza would 100% deck somebody for saying something mean about Eula.

If the FT gang is, say, crashing Mondstadt in particular while looking for a way home, there would be plenty of opportunity for random interaction. For instance, Kaeya would probably pick Gray out of the crowd and pester him. It would be claimed to be on account of the ice-make magic, but really, it's because Gray has the exact same disposition as Diluc. And pestering Diluc really is just second-hand for Kaeya. (He knows that it's the only way he can check up on the grumpy sour-puss and get a read on how he's doing, probably.)

Cana and Venti would have a drinking competition. Diluc would have an aneurism. I do not know who would win. 

They would totally hang around the Adventurer’s Guild people and help them out in the meantime, while the KoF are trying their best, because guild! adventure! Fischl would be overwhelmed by the sheer number of actual otherworlders, and it might hurt Amy’s brain a tad. Still, she would be enthusiastic. Oz would be fascinated by the Exceeds, probably. (Flying companion comradery, lol.) Bennett would probably blame himself for every crazy thing that happens, but honestly, FT has whack luck of their own so they’re just rolling with it.

On a similar note, the Traveler would help out and vibe with them. They would probably compare Paimon to, like, Happy too, but Paimon would probably be offended because she’s ‘not a pet’ but then the Exceeds are the same way, so they might actually bond. Paimon and Happy have the same amount of brain cells anyway... That, and Traveler would understand the whole other world bit. Maybe they could even help the gang get back to their own world. (I mean, they know where the gate is, they’re just not going to leave without their twin.) Though then the ‘raiding Celestia’ bit would be, like, an actual plot, so that’s another thing. If anyone would be down with fighting literal gods though, FT would be crazy enough.

Klee and Natsu would get along like a house on fire. Literally. RIP Mondstadt. (Though I guess htryds-Natsu is better with reckless younger siblings, so actually, he might be Ultimate Babysitter. He can feed into her excitement, but if she sets anything on fire, he could just...eat it.)

If they ever make it into Liyue, their antics will probably give the Qixing quite the headache. Xingqiu would ask soooo many prodding questions. So would Hu Tao. She would probably talk about death just onneee too many times and Natsu would start making scarce, lol. (On that note, would Xiao notice? Would someone try to exorcise Natsu? Hmm. Granted Xiao is surprisingly patient with non-violent apparitions, and Natsu is alive despite having died, so he’ll probably just be huffy about it and let it go.) 

Xiangling will have an army of loyal dragon slayers if she feeds them. They will all be so, so happy, even with the weird stuff she wants to cook. 

And I’m running out of ideas, but if, for some reason, Lucy could still summon celestial spirits, I would love for Aquarius and the Oceanid to try and just, out-sass and out-water each other. It would be hilarious. They probably would even out in ability, but they’re both so prideful, that would bother them. 

[maglors-anion-gap]

Fic Writing Asks

Thanks to @samarqqand for the tag! Sorry for the late-ish reply!

how many works do you have on AO3?

I have 8 fics on AO3, with one WIP that I have been neglecting for Ages (so sorry to the anon who requested it, and to user findrahil for helping me beta in, like, march...), and three Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang fics coming very soon!

what’s your total AO3 word count?

Currently 36,972

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Mostly Tolkien. One sad MCU fic (it's not finished, please ignore it, I started it in a brighter era where I wasn't exhausted by the MCU movie industrial complex)

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

"Why Breaks Thou the Wand" - Gimli/Legolas (qpl) Tam Lin!AU

The MCU fic that I will not be linking to

"Your Mouth is Poison (Your Mouth is Wine)" - Celebrimbor/Sauron, the events leading up to the sacking of Eregion, also known as "how to bottom in the most manipulative and vindictive manner possible"

"There are Roses That Come Without Seeking" - Curufin/Finrod, midwinter masquerade celebration turned hook-up

"Turning Shadows Into Shapes" - Feanor&Fingolfin, brotherly loveloathing and the aftermath of Finwe's death

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Every single one. I don't get a Ton of comments so it's pretty easy for me to do and I talk non-stop so.... it's a natural instinct. I love to see what people have to say abut my work, and I love to let them know I appreciate their commentary

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Angstiest ending is hands down "Where the Spirit Meets the Bones" because it ends with Maedhros yeeting himself toward his doom... In general a very angsty fic because it's all about failed obligations, self hatred, and being a flawed person.

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I've never written a crossover, I haven't really found universes that I desperately wanted to smash together. The closest I'll ever get is AU works.

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes but not on anything posted on my AO3. The commenter left me something mildly obnoxious, but when I checked out their profile they were a huge bigot. Bidoof's law for general assholery.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Yes. More often than not. Excuse #1: the pandemic is keeping me from being my slutty self and I am projecting. Excuse #2: self-introspection. It's no coincidence that my smut fic is most often either something I find kinky, or an exploration of my identity or something I want to communicate in my life. "Halos Made of Summer, Ribbons Made of Spring" was me exploring my attraction to women (when I still thought I was a woman). A lot of my other stuff was me coming to terms with being transmasc (though I haven't included trans themes in my fics yet - that's gonna change tho).

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope! I don't think my stuff gets enough traction for that (rare-pair hell, my beloved). I also don't think I'd notice if themes were lifted from my work. I treat fandom like a soup pot. It would be rude to take the stock wholesale and say it was your own. That said, it's likely that at some point two or more of us are going to come up with similar flavor pairings. If you're inspired by my work, it's good grace to say so. But swapping ideas is pretty par for the course.

have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! But you guys are always welcome to do so! I've been meaning to translate my stuff into Spanish, it's good practice for me and I know that fandom can be pretty English heavy.

have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! I would like to at some point, I think the closest I've gotten is like, trsb exchanges.

what’s your all time favorite ship?

Probably Fingon/Maedhros because of my penchant for self-flagellation and bad decision making. It's an old standby pairing for me, and I like its Romance, in the classical sense. Celebrimbor/Sauron is a close second because I like working through how I feel about deception and betrayal and really unhealthy love.

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Um... I don't want to say the WIP that's currently languishing in my drafts. I have Got to finish it because I went out of my way to get people's opinions on it. Um, probably this thing I started for Gimli/Legolas, I don't think it was imaginative enough, I have a hard time being imaginative and it feels derivative. I need to significantly re-tool it.

what are your writing strengths?

Setting up a central theme, and characterization. I like implicit meanings.

what are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue is hard, pacing is hard (it's really hard for me to read, so I always want to pare my stuff down when I should expand on it). Executive function is non-existent so the writing process itself is just. odious (/humorous).

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Ah, like adverbs and epithets, it serves a purpose (to indicate something specific). I think about a) can readers understand this b) is this respectful and does it fit the situation or characterization c) does it add something special d) do I have a good enough grasp of this language. For MCU fic I won't be linking I taught myself some very basic russian to include some russian dialogue because I wanted english readers to be temporarily out of the loop like one of the characters (like, in dramatic irony the readers know something the characters don't - I wanted a situation where the readers didn't know either). Don't go looking for that fic, my russian is embarrassing to me and others.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

The lord of the flies :( I was 13

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Probably "Halos Made of Summer, Ribbons Made of Spring" for managing to write something long and detailed :)

I’m tagging @galadhremmin @arofili @undercat-overdog @findrahil @dialux (some of you may have already done this, sorry) - this is the moment where I forget every single one of my followers and mutuals... I'm so sorry, if you're reading this please consider yourself tagged and back-tag me with your replies

[magic-is-something-we-create]

📝 👥👣 👎 for the change-themed writeblr asks!

hi!!! thank u for playing!!!

📝 Share the top writing tips that improved your writing. (As many as you want!)

- set a daily writing goal that you can hit in five minutes. it helps keep the serotonin of having a writing streak alive but it also means you dont absolutely overwork yourself in an effort to be """productive"""

- do writing sprints, especially if theyre super short ones, in tandem with that first point. i literally do 5 minute writing sprints if im having a hard time starting

in terms of actual writing advice stuff:

- find a balance between shooting for perfection and letting the first draft be a dumpster fire. i personally have found that if the previous day's writing isn't up to a certain standard, i cant write any more until its fixed, but that standard isnt "ready for publishing", its just "comprehensible and not janky". find ur balance, whether that means sitting down for 10 minutes before each session to edit yesterday's stuff, or refusing to look back entirely so you can keep up your momentum

- repeating important words/phrases several times (i.e. starting three sentences with the same few words in a row) literally hammers in the weight of a scene emotionally

- when you're super emotional, you get physical sensations in your body. not everyone experiences/describes these sensations the same - look for the most obvious descriptor first (i.e. "my stomach dropped") and then dig into what you actually feel and rework it that way (for me, "a hollow digs into my gut" is more accurate and visceral <3)

- dont be afraid to go off the outline, because a lot of the time when things develop naturally as you go and it messes up your plot, its because the plot didnt actually fit the world and/or characters that have grown since you started

- unconventional metaphors are great at showing character. an example of this from my own work: ember is our main POV, and theyre an archer, so when they first describe another of the characters, they say their nose and cheekbones are "strong and sharp as a loosed arrow"

- script your action scenes. also dont forget that with action comes super-high emotion, and a lot of the best action scenes coincide with milestones in character development ("you cant take my pain" in stormlight archive, nayimathun's escape in priory of the orange tree, etc.)

👥 Describe your initial concept of a character, and what they’re like now.

ohhhh i like this one a lot

well, my initial concept for beta was that he was a fairly reserved, grandfather-like mentor figure to nimbus, who was very obedient when it came to the law because hes the closest thing the ehlverse has to an immigrant (they dont have a concept of governing land)

now hes uh. chaotic old man who may or may not have poisoned his ex-wife's lover, got banished from his former protective government (the only person to ever be banished by that particular one), deals fantasy ecstacy on the side, and willingly yeets his phone into the ocean with 0 hesitance when asked

👣 How have your tastes changed since you first started writing? Do you write in the same genre? Do the same tropes, subjects, or themes still pop up?

i do write in the same genre! i used to do a lot more urban fantasy stuff, but i much prefer high fantasy now, simply because worldbuilding is so incredibly fun and its much more so to build it from the ground up for me :D

similar themes still pop up, yes, but i handle them a lot more maturely now than i used to (my old stuff read like uh. Depressed Child has No Other Outlet, which wasnt all too off-the-mark, but it is u n b e a r a b l e)

i definitely like much more flowery prose than i used to!! when i first started this draft of firebreathers, i thought i hated description and action scenes, but uh,,,,, those are now my favorite things to write

👎 Have you ever held a writing opinion that you disagree with now? If so, what was it, and why do you think differently now?

i used to avoid using "says/said" at all costs, and instead went for other, more descriptive tags. now i only use "says/said" or no tag at all, with rare description tags when it's not clear from circumstance whats going on. i just find that it flows better in my particular style to do it that way :D

-

thank you again for playing!!! this was super fun :D

[sunca]

Hey congrats on starting your writing blog !! Could I request Narancia with 2 and 87 from the yandere prompts? Maybe in like a school setting of sorts? Thank you in advance!! 💕

"𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎"

Yandere Narancia x reader(Yandere Prompts)

2. "Please pay attention to me."

87. "What do I need to make you love me back?"

~~~~~~

Scenario.

Warning : Death, blood, gore, physical violence, curse words, kidnapping, mentioned of stalking, yandere stuff, a bit of lust.

Count : 4030

Thank you. I appreciate it. (•-•)\💖

Sorry for the wait. I've been busy these days but as soon as I finished those stuffs, I went straight down to writing and fixing this.

Please accept this art as my apology. Long hair, fancy Narancia is a must and reader as a small chibi.

Requests still open. Thank you and I hope this brings satisfaction to you.

Sadly, I couldn't post this with read more. ;-; Forgive me.

I almost forgot. Recommended song for this.

Anson Seabra - Stay with me

~~~~~~

Sleepless nights and those stares which hunted you in the darkness. You tried to sleep soundly as much as you could but those nightmares picked you like a marionette and made you dance as they willed. Traces of fingers on your skin offered the ecstasy of waking up. Only to have chills rushing on you. Sweats and tears tainted on the mattress. The warmth of another person, the breeze would steal every night. The welcomed window with a broken lock in your view. An orange wrist band disappearing into the leaves of a nearby tree.

You hid your yawn with your book from your teacher. She shot a glance at you but you just tried to hide between your shoulders. Dark circles lingering around your eyes as you tried to wipe your tears away. You once again looked down at your book to greet with an x and its long lost number. y and z waiting for their soulmates. Numbers running around on your page playground. A discontented sign falling down along with your tense shoulders.

Slender fingers rested on his cheek. His chin stood gracefully on his palm. His captivating purple eyes sojourned on your back. You who couldn't concentrate won't be able to detect his enthusiasm for you. He planned to open his heart for you today. He could only wish it would go well. He can only wish. The echo of the bell rolling into the class directed his attention to turn to his dear friend.

Fugo closed his book and let it rest for a period. His hand reaching for the lemon coloured lunchbox and water bottle. Narancia then get attracted to your magnet but blocked by a girl who stood between you two. Narancia looked up to see her lunch box held tight to her chest. She then build up her courage to ask him to spend his precious time with her. He leaned back. Creating more space between him and her. Showing uninterested body language. A single worded rejection. His feet walking on your yellow path. You getting up to get some space from people, stopped in your tracks when he came into your view.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Nothing to do at lunch. Right? Come join us! You've been busy with that club and activities. I missed you," he whined with puppy eyes. You being your dithering self because of restlessness. "Sure," You replied with a small puff and smile, blinking your fuzzy vision away. His gleaming smile blinding you so easily. "Great! Let me grab my lunch box fast! Wait here!" He gleefully replied and headed back to his seat. A soft smile staplered on his cheeks.

The three of you sitting under the unfixed clouds. A baby tomato rolling under your fork. You listened to the back and front between Fugo and Narancia. This bickering was bringing out more headache for you. Then suddenly, Narancia wrapped his arms around your torso and faked a cry. "(Y/N)! See? Fugo is making fun of me! I just don't understand math and he's calling me 'stupid' again!" You let out a tired sigh and patted his head. "I'm calling you stupid because you are! 33×12 is 36? Oh. What a genius! How many times do I have to teach you that?!" Fugo looked as if a strawberry now. His face all red because of rage.

"Oh, Fugo. By the way, did you heard-," Narancia looked up at you. His hands not retreating back from you but holding more tightly. You were focused on Fugo and letting him know about the new series he caught upon. The two of you would buy the book together or inform each other about the news related to that series. You and Fugo having interest in a same subject once in a while. Narancia was not getting any of it. His eyebrows fusing.

"(Y/N)! I burned my hand the other day!" He put his hand in between you and Fugo's eye contact. You just nodded and patted him again but didn't stop communicating with Fugo. Narancia's hand slowly drafted back to your shoulder. Tears welding on his eyes. His cheeks swelling. He then slowly fell onto your lap. His hands closest to his heart which was aching for you. Both Fugo and you stopped in track. You looked upon a teenage boy in tears, sulking like a baby and resting on your lap.

"Please pay attention to me, (Y/N)."

His voice shaking. You felt bad for not giving him the attention he deserved and run your fingers through his hair gently. Narancia has always been like this whenever you ignored him a bit. You didn't want to speak it out loud but it slipped through. "Aww~ my baby," you wiped his tears away. Narancia started sniffing and sobbing. You picked him up by his shoulder and he sat up. "Don't cry. Don't cry~," Mischief in your sugary voice. "Aww~ There. There," you comforted him with a hug and caressed his head. Fugo scoffed and focused on eating again. Turning his gaze away from the two of you.

After a minute or two, the door to the rooftop swung. A pair of canary preying you in. Burgundy hair combed back neatly. His sharp jaw ready to slice anyone in two. His flawless face shining like silver. Turtleneck white sweater revealing his ravishing physique. Black jeans hugging his slender and long legs. The papers in his grip rustled as the breeze flowed in.

Once he saw you, he stormed up to you. You looked up at Kevin, your club's president. Narancia, on the other hand, didn't want Kevin to come and destroy his paradise, and he knew Kevin would be a bad new for him. As soon as he saw Kevin, Narancia glanced to you. Narancia didn't expect and want this to happen but here you are, looking at a boy other than him.

"Oh, Kev! What brought you here?" You greeted him and drew back your hands. Narancia didn't bother to move from your side. Fugo twisted his neck to look up from his lunch to your target. Fugo repositioned himself since he saw who was it and listened to hear whatever Kevin had to say. "(Y/N), Mrs. Smith said you made some mistakes in the paper sheets for the club. You better get there now and I have things to do," Kevin stood beside Fugo and waited for you.

"I will go there once I finish my lunch," you glared up at Kevin. Narancia was also glaring at Kevin. "She didn't look like she was busy which is unusual," Kevin insisted. Kevin's demand irked you and you rolled your eyes. "Fine," you groaned as you packed your lunch back up. Narancia complained as he clasped your arm. "(Y/N), you don't have to go." Narancia's puppy eyes striking your week spot but you couldn't say no to the class president. "I'm sorry, Narancia but I have to. I will see you back in class when this is over. Ok? No worries," you gave Narancia a reassuring smile and stood up. Narancia's eyes were narrowing at Kevin. Fugo noticed this and observed him carefully. So then, he could step in if Narancia was to burst out.

You headed to the teachers' office and prepared yourself. Kevin was walking on the corridor of the old, abandoned school building. He just needed to grab some stuffs from there. He was on his way until he saw a group of people in a class. He pulled the door open and shouted, "Students are prohibited to come here withou-," he saw an adult looking like a street rat handing a bag wrapped in tape to a student. "YOU! Outsiders are prohibited here too and state your busines -" Before his sentence ended, —wham!— his unconscious body fell onto the dusty floor with a thud.

Narancia tried his best to keep his serenity but something clicked in him. He threw his orange juice and stood up. "That motherf*cker!! $&j#fc;h-e)g£sv%y!!!" He cursed as the bottom of his shoe stamped upon the poor lunchbox. Noodles flat under, the sauce splashed across the concreted floor, the plastic scattered into pieces and his shoe fouled by the mess. Fugo noticed the buzz in his pants pocket and reached for it. Checking the ID, he then picked it up. "Pronto."

"Damn it!" Narancia exclaimed as he rubbed his shoe on the clean surface of the floor. "They're always trying to steal my (Y/N) away. A*sh*les!" Narancia kicked the air and his feet yeeted his shoe. Narancia was too furious to pay attention to Fugo or his talk. He then let out a frustrated sigh and hopped. "Yes. We'll take care of it. Arrivederci," Fugo hung up and shoved the phone back into his pants. He then reversed his direction back to Narancia who was putting on his shoe again.

"Narancia," he calmly called him to see his fumming face almost as if a tomato. "They're making a move now. Gior- Boss want us to take action. Bruno said he will send the info in 5 minutes," Fugo's sentences were short but held engrossing mystery in them. Narancia's face was dark and occupied with a wide grin which would inject a chilling trepidation to everyone sane but Fugo wasn't bothered. The thought of finishing an order perfectly enraptured Fugo as he couldn't wait to spend more time with his beloved who was in a cage. "Go fetch (Y/N) after this," Fugo shot a smirk and encouraged Narancia. The two boys communicating with their eye contact. You who thought Fugo and Narancia were normal teenagers and not knowing anything about their past, didn't even notice the foreboding gift future has in store for you.

When you entered the club room, you couldn't find Kevin anywhere. "MuMu, have you seen Kev anywhere? I need him to check these sheets," you asked a girl who was filling in forms. "Ah! He went to that old building in the west. He said he needed some files from class B," she answered and you smiled at her. "Thank you!" You replied and headed to there. Looking over the papers in your fingers again. "This will be fine. I guess...," you spoke to yourself.

Narancia and Fugo were checking out the rooms at the ground level. They entered the 5th room when you entered the hall. You then zigzagged and stepped on the first step of the stairs. 'Class B. Huh. That would be third floor.' You thought to yourself and rubbed your temple. "Wait. This building has three stairs. Right? What if I miss Kevin? I can't let it happen! I must hand in these today," you talked to yourself and hurried your steps. "Nothing's here too," Fugo looked up to Narancia. He was squatting and checking for footprints or any sign of their target were here or the packs since the info showed they stored some in here. "Let's move on," Narancia replied as he head to the stairs.

You arrived on the third floor and everything was a mess. There were plastic bags, dry leaves and dusts. You looked up to the sign on top of an entrance. It read 'E' and you moved on to get where you wanted to be. When you passed through class D, you heard something. You stopped in track and paid attention to it. It was as if something was being beaten. You backed to the wall and approached the back door of the third room. You sneakily opened the door a bit and peeked in. A strange scent hitting your nostrils.

There was a group of students and some people in normal attire. Smokes surrounding their heads. Cigarettes in between of their fingers. Some were staring down at the centre. You followed their gaze. A fist rose and fell like a tsunami. You couldn't see who was the victim since the desks and some males blocked it. You keeled for a better view and in between legs, you saw a familiar male with burgundy hair. Blood rivering down on his lips and chin. His nose all red. His face swollen.

You questioned why he didn't fight back and you covered your mouth. His fingers bending back in. Blood stained on his white sweater. Two knives attached to his belly. You started to tremble and your breath hitched. You wanted to step in and help Kevin but it would be around 15 against 1. You don't even stand a chance.

You gotta get out of there fast and affirm the teachers. When you raised your head back, the door swung open with a creek. You looked up like a cornered prey under the gaze of a predator. To meet with a pair of eyes staring down at you. A grin sent chills down your spine. You didn't waste any time and sprang for the escape. The shadow behind you chased you down. You were pulled back by a hand wrapping by your waist. "HELP-!" Your mouth covered by a hand.

"Did you hear that?" Narancia glanced at his friend who didn't turn away from his staring towards the ceiling. "Hear what?" Narancia had a confused expression. Fugo then looked at Narancia. "Narancia, call out Aerosmith. They might still be in this building," Fugo commended him. "Okay?" Narancia raised an eyebrow and spread his arms horizontally. "Aerosmith!"

You were struggling against two males. The others were staring or laughing at your inadequate struggles. You kicked, wiggled your body out, punched and did everything you could but nothing seemed to work until you remembered a method. You kicked the male in front of you where the sun don't shine and curved in your spine to smash that nose with the back of your head. The grip around you loosened. Your feet trying to be your life saviour, betrayed by a hand grabbing on one. Your face came in to kiss the floor. A crack rang in your ears and a light flashed before you. You tried to get back up but restrained by a pull.

You rolled around and punched anyone who was in sight. Your hand captured in a grip but you used all of your force and took your hand back. Your other hand reached something and you grabbed it. Panic swung your hand and —Shluk!— crimson liquid spattered. A glass shard deep in the throat of a student. Blood trailing down from his mouth and nose. He choked out and a daub of red landed on your cheek, soon to roll slowly to side. Your eyes went wide. You brought up your hand to wipe the burning sensation on your nose and hide that glup. You were stunned. Your brain tried to reload what you just did but errors delayed it.

Tap, tab, tap, dab, dap, dab, dap, swissh, dab, swissh, dab, dap, zwish, dab, dap, zwish, Dap, zwish, Dab, Dap, zwish, Dab, BAM!

The door swung open, brining you back to reality with a flinch. Your head spun and you saw a ray of hope along with two boys. Narancia's scanning fell upon you as soon as you goggled him. Your nose red. Blood smeared on your philtrum, upper lateral subunit and upper lip. Your obscured tears failed on you. The look in your eyes begged him to save you. Your lips quivering. Your quietened sobs emerging. "What the f*ck!?" A wrongdoer swore out loud and they prepared themselves by picking up some chair, wood stick, spiked bat, and pocket knives.

"Na-Narancia...," You ran towards him but your legs gave out and you crawled. Clinging on his leg. He crouched towards you. Holding your trembling hand in his. Your poor body shaking like a leaf. Tears streaming down on your exquisite cheeks. Your state in this situation and a murmur of your voice turned on the insanity inside him. "Fugo, I will leave (Y/N) to you," Fugo took over his role and supported you to stand up. Narancia's face was hard to read when you glanced at him. Narancia stood tall.

Your back leaned on the dirty wall. Your breath hitching and you hugged onto Fugo tightly. Burying your face in his chest. Snivelling all your emotions out. Screaming were heard in the distance. Fugo patted your back and separated you by your shoulders. "(Y/N)?" He called your name and you looked up at him. "I need you to stay here and not going anywhere. Ok?" he waited for your answer. You nodded while sobbing. He set up a reassuring smile and left you there. You sat there and wiped your tears away. When you glanced at Fugo, you saw him walking into that room.

"YOU BASTARD! YOU WORTHLESS LITTLE S*HT!! YOU SHOULD GO DIE IN A S*HT HOLE, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING B*TCH!!" The dead hooligan lied flat under Narancia's shoe. Narancia's breathes were hitching, and veins were popping out on his forearm and the back of his hand. Blood painted the wall and floor red. The pool under his shoe sticky and thick. They deserved it. No one and by means that, not even a single soul is allowed to hurt his perfection whom he worship daily. Anyone who left a scratch on (Y/N)'s body will be left with a missing limb but made her bleed more than a drop? Haha. Ya gotta be kidding about it.

Fugo stopped him in track. "(Y/N) need you now. Go. I will take care of them," Fugo's hand on his shoulder, giving Narancia a proud smile. Narancia stepped back and cooled himself down. Fugo took out a glass bottle and a handkerchief. He opened the cap and enclosed the lid with the handkerchief. He then turned them upside down. Soon to be back in their position. He handed the handkerchief to Narancia. "Here. Take this just in case." Narancia took it and in a split second, there was a wide, merry grin on his cheeks. He put it in the skirt pocket. "Yea! Thanks, Fugo!" He exclaimed gleefully and ran out of the class with a jolly behaviour. Fugo chuckled at Narancia's usual behaviour and put the covering back on.

Of course. You must be waiting for him all this time. You need him like he needs you. You sinning his thoughts and nights. You who was defenceless. He who was resistless to you or your beguiling body. His hands not wanting to depart from your skin. His lips brushing softly on your throat. He was addicted to you. You who spellbound him, lured him in, ensnared him, planted a seed called possessiveness in him, seized his obsession only to yourself and inveiged him to come swoop your fragile soul from this heartless world. He's your knight in shinning armour after all.

"(Y/N)!" You heard a familiar voice. Your sugary name cloying him more and more. He was drunk upon the bewitching splendour of your beauty. Your voice ripping his stability bit by bit. His body towered you. Trapped you between his torso and the wall. You were in a daze. His tranquil smile avenging your cruel actions towards him. His loving gaze hypnotising the poor prey.

You turned your head to the source. A breeze revealing a dazzling boy to you. "Narancia!" You called your friend's name as you eyed him up. He who bathed in his enemies' blood. You wiped your tears again as you stood up. Observing the boy before you in terror. "I killed them for you~ (Y/N)♡," his voice sickeningly sweet. His usual cute smile inverted into a nightmare with blood staining on it. "Thi-This is wrong. So wrong...," you choked out. His eyebrows raised with disbelief. "What are you talking about, (Y/N)? This is the right thing to do! They hurt you! You are a perfection and I'm your guardian! If anyone try to corrupt you, they are devils and it's my duty to get rid of them! Hehe," he chuckled lightly. As if taking out the fire of life was nothing more than a joke to him.

"Naranci-" you were cut off. "I love you~" The grin not dropping from his face. "W-Wha-What?" You asked again not because you didn't quite catch it but because you didn't get what he meant by that. "I love you♡" An adorable giggle rumbled down his chest. "Wha- N-No! Liste-" you tried to speak again. "No? You don't love me?" The wretched look gushed down your throat like a blazing lava. Guilt's hands tightening around you throat. "No. No. That's not-" Your panic dragged and chucked you down the cliff.

"Then what do I need to do to make you love me back, (Y/N)?"

You stopped. You legitimately stopped. He wasn't trying to hear out what you had to spill. He wasn't even trying. It seemed as if he won't give up or drop that subject. No. He wouldn't and you have had it. You took a sharp breath in. Your legs spun and took a step farther away from him. Your back getting smaller and alarm bells rang loudly in his head. Your direction fixed on the stair. He pulled you back by your wrist and made you face him. His hand sneaking around your waist.

"Let me g-" your lips sealed with his. Your heart jumped like a rabbit and your mind reset itself. If you were just an innocent civilian, he wouldn't do anything to you but remember that time you helped him with that winsome smile? Remember that time when you let him rest on your lap? Remember that time you held him tight in your sleep? You have given him those blushes, those smiles, those giggles, those restless nights with only you in his head, those hushed moans and those vivid dreams. You have stolen his only heart and tried to flee with it. Did you think he was that stupid to let you go after everything he went through for you?

A white silk between the two teenagers sparkled under the orangy ray. The sun slowly dying on the horizon, letting his lover breathe and shine in the darkness with her small sparkling fairies. Your breathing uneven. Unable to leave his dusky purple soul. He fed upon your candy as his right hand flew up to cup your cheek. His thumb swinging left and right. Your cheek dough under his fingers. Your life like a droplet of rain in his palm.

His touches varied into needy ones. His desire asking for more as his lips once again sucked the life out of you. His tongue burrowing into you. Your hands constraining him away from you. Your head trying to break away from his grasp. Your brain sending red flags in your view. Your anxiety lining tears on your lower eyelashes. Your lung shrieking for the oxygen you needed. Him devouring on your sobs.

Your leg swung back to aim whichever part of his leg you can reach. —Wham!— he groaned and reached for his luckless shin. You didn't waste any time and hurtled wherever you can but far from this pitiful boy. Your legs wanting to give out under you but your brain forcing them not to. Your heart ringing in your ears. The stairs blurred in your vision.

You set your foot upon the second floor and aimed to make a U turn to descend more. Coincided with a yelp, your flimsy body was tugged back by a hand wrapping around your chest. Your nose and mouth were covered by a hand, linked with a cloth. Due to the intense exercise you had, you respired a small amount of chemical with a gasp. The sharp smell made you press harder into his chest, gratifying him more.

Your fists hitting his hands, pulling them away. Your body twisting in order to be freed. Your tears messy on your cheeks. Your limbs faltered. Your muscles relaxed. Your soul doors pulling the curtains. Your head rested on his shoulder. Your consciousness fell into the dark abyss. Pulling you along with it. A word echoed in the void.

"𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮."

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

How do you like NaNo so far?

Okay tea! It’s going okay! Honestly, it’s not going as well as I expected but also going... better than I expected (simultaneously lol)!

I’ve been tracking a LOT of things, so on my MyWriteClub, I track if I’ve written that day (I’ve written 12/19 days of the month so far), and I’ve also been tracking on NaNoWriMo’s website (I’ve written just over 4300 words this month). This is a pretty solid streak, and I’ve definitely been writing WAY more often than I usually do, and enjoying it WAY more because of where I’m at in the book.

Y’all, I gotta say it... I love Feeding Habits. I’ve got a huge, huge problem with writing a book, loving it, then feeling embarrassed by it after a few weeks of finishing it, and with Feeding Habits, I’ve been extra hard on it. It’s not that I feel embarrassed by it like I do Moth Work (this is a whole other issue), it’s just been two moods: grueling to write, or magnificent. Most of the time, it’s been grueling, and I have a really hard time not enjoying drafting because it’s my favourite thing about writing and so that affects my mental health, etc, etc. So when I, in this moment, am saying I love Feeding Habits, I just want myself to fully, 100% feel this way, because I know, with the last few books I’ve written, it doesn’t last (not to be pessimistic, but to be grateful for where I am).

NaNo is actually not all that different to me usually writing proces. I actually always think about writing every day, it’s just about 1/7 days a week I may actually do it, more if I’m in a good patch. I can’t give NaNo full credit for my productivity, however. I am in a really great place in Feeding Habits right now, and NaNo occurred right at the start of that, so it was really coincidence and timing that I’m currently doing okay in the book, and therefore, able to produce. I’ve mentioned that I just can’t write when I’m mentally unwell, and that not writing furthers that mental unwellness and so I’m really, really happy with how this month is going with writing right now. I don’t feel heavy, I feel I’ve written a lot of great (and very gay <3) stuff, and I’m so pleased.

I am only tracking NaNo progress for Feeding Habits specifically because I wanted to put more attention on it, and I definitely think it has been successful in that regard! I’ve been doing tons of other writing though, either for classes, or personal stuff (do not ask me how submitting a poem at 11:59pm on the day of the deadline went hahaha), so I feel like I’m... thriving??

Excerpts from Feeding Habits stuff I’ve been working on recently under the cut!

This is the boys’ first ever conversation in months and in the book:

A canoe-rental kiosk ruching the Hudson River. Harrison pays for a two-hour time slot with the last of his savings and lugs it to the shoreline by himself. It is nearly midnight, the sky clogged with fog and moonlight.

Lonan will not enter the water. Back near the kiosk, he fiddles with a beachstone, bathing in tungsten from the streetlamp above him. He gave no reason for his rejection, just picked stones as they walked along the boardwalk, through the parking lot, to the kiosk. As if he’d polish them, feed them through a rock tumbler as if he has patience for that, tend to them like infants, shape, polish, burnish, sell them for thirty dollars a piece and donate the money, as if has the mind to.

Harrison shifts the canoe perpendicular to the water and steps in. The boat cranks under his weight, its coldness seeping through his jeans.

Lonan stoops for more stones. His knees luminescing in white sand. His hair oilslick, cropped to his scalp like blunt grass. His fingers arrowing through sand, a raven filching seed. He unearths the stones with urgency, a paleontologist, a gravedigger.

“You’ll never make a sale on those,” Harrison shouts from the canoe. His voice splinters the night and puffs with the sand.

Lonan nearly drops his handful of stones. It takes him a moment to look up, and when he does, he searches the treeline first, the windows of a parked SUV, the gaps between a thicket of lifejackets before reaching Harrison, and he’s so deerlike, Harrison thinks, he’s so limp, so feeble, so susceptible. His hair jutting briefly from his scalp like an accordion, badly cut probably because Eliza likes it that way. His skin nearly lilac in places, a gauntness in his face, a hunger.

“My mother tells me you like her cooking,” he continues. “That you’re here for your sister. That you’re here alone.”

Lonan reaches for another stone.

“Eliza wants you to look like a deacon.” Harrison frills a hand toward his hair, snaps his fingers like scissors. “So holy. I could ordain you right now. Make you born-again. There’s so much water.”

“I don’t swim,” Lonan says. He reaches for another stone, then another so his palms turn into one.

“You don’t? You’re a land mammal. Rhinoceros. Hippopotamus. Is it the stones? You’re afraid they’ll sink you?”

CANOE SHENANIGANS (#BOYSINABOAT):

Harrison shuffles forward until their knees touch. He reaches. He makes contact. He touches his skin. He touches his ear. He touches cheek. He touches eyes, fingerprints his irises, wrings the tears from his eyelashes, pulls his face by the jaw, cradling his land mammal. He is crying. They should both cry. They are both crying. Their own lake puddling in Harrison’s palm. Theirs as Harrison dips his free hand into the water. Theirs as he hushes Lonan’s writhing. Theirs as he christens him, the water gorging his eyes, his nose, his mouth. Theirs as he promises it will be okay. Theirs as he says he will get to know this stranger. Theirs as they promise to both regrow. Theirs as Harrison jerks the canoe. Theirs as they capsize. Theirs as they reunite in fizzing tide, caught in the river, both animals trapped in amber.

Some context for this next excerpt: Lonan and Harrison get into shenanigans the night before, Harrison ~robs Lonan, abandons him, and yeets himself to the barn mentioned in chapter six where he falls asleep for the night. Here, he wakes up at dawn and is coming up with an excuse to explain why he’s there early to the homeowners. He decides, since they hired him to fix up their barn, he’ll just say he was trying to be a good worker:

Harrison fixes himself in the reflection of an overturned wheelbarrow, its silver belly clouded with rust. He exists the barn dry, well-rested, a richer, more fashionable man.

Before he even finishes ascending the veranda of the Harvey house, Sharleen opens the door. Her white hair is pearled into a bun. She wears a paisley patterned apron, chartreuse.

“Raspberry danishes,” Harrison says. “All I wanted was to bring you some fresh raspberry danishes, but all the bakeries were closed.”

Sharleen rolls up her sleeves. Her hands are caked with flour and fat.

“I considered tulips, but realized I’ve never asked for your favourite flower. Is it tulips? Hydrangeas? Chrysanthemums?”

Sharleen juts open the screen door and holds it open for him. He enters the foyer, and it smells like cinnamon, like sugar.

“I’ve heard marigolds are helpful for warding off squirrels,” he says, taking the hand she offers for his jacket. Sharleen doesn’t jump when he runs his finger across her wedding band and pecks her knuckles with his mouth. She doesn’t even speak. “Is that true?” as they usher toward the kitchen. “Pretty and purposeful. Sounds fake.”

Sharleen dusts her hands on her apron and jars open the kitchen door.

“Could be a double whammy. Or a scam. Or an old wives’ tale,” Harrison says as they walk into the kitchen, so occupied with the marigolds he does not notice when Sharleen returns to the stove to flip a pancake, so occupied, when he turns to the kitchen table, expecting only Harvey but seeing Lonan, all he says is, “Sounds too good to be true.”

The embarrassing aftermath of that lmfao :)

Harrison eats his pancakes on the porch. The Harveys’ dog joins him, a golden retriever named Leila. He cuts her a rift of cake and slots it into her mouth when she whines. One bite for him, another for Leila. Him, Leila, him, Leila. The good news is since he fixed their coffee machine, he now drinks drip.

It does not take long for Lonan to follow him outside. Harrison’s known this was inevitable and has dreaded the last five minutes because of it. He slits another triangle of pancake and feeds it to the dog.

It’s too cold to be out without a jacket. Wind nips Harrison’s ears and icicles his fingertips. Lonan’s shirt, the pale blue button-up he nabbed knowing he’d have cash, brays under the breeze, barely denser than a tissue.

So, after Harrison knocks them into the water (lol), this happens. My favourite description of Lonan: grass, and speck. (TW murder-y??):

“Pull me under,” Lonan said, spitting water, his voice grating under pressure. He trembled, his limbs his betrayal, tremoloing in the waves.

And Harrison did. Dousing him by the shoulders and holding him under so only he floated in the miniscule gap of air, Lonan a sunken, thrashing speck. It was thrilling, holding a body in his hands, determining its fate. And equally as thrilling to hold it as he lulled Lonan back up and over his shoulder where he deflated, gasping. At first Lonan coughed, once twice, heaving saltwater and saliva. But then a birdlike sound, compact but jittering, the wisp of a laugh, and Harrison couldn’t help but wonder if he was thrilled, too

“Do you feel accomplished, Harrison?” Lonan asked, his teeth prattling like an accordion. His hand trailed up the tail of his jacket, scrawling along the soaked leather. Lonan shifted, his body dead weight nearly drowned. And there was the sound again, chirping, “You’re not the first person who’s tried to kill me this year. Congratulations.”

So the tea is that Harrison robs Lonan by swapping shirts with him (tea tea tea), so here’s that scene where they re-swap and Harrison pesters Lonan about not marrying Eliza:

“Why won’t you marry her?” Harrison asks. “You could have children. A honeymoon.”

Lonan stuffs his free hand into his pocket. His breath fogs with every exhale, his nose pinkish with cold. Harrison doesn’t feel any of it, the breath, the cold, his hands. He doesn’t move to button up his flannel. He doesn’t want to move.

“You’re going back to her. You’re here to check on Reeve, and then you’re going back. To get married. To have children. To honeymoon forever.”

Lonan’s hair is awful. Spoking from his scalp like a raven’s wings, some sections ragged, uneven. Not a haircut, but punishment.

“You’re perfect,” Harrison says. He should being shivering, be freezing, but he feels nothing. “Why can’t you say you’re perfect?”

Lonan moves first. They could reabsorb. Go back to blue. But he only reaches for the flannel with his free hand and drapes it around Harrison’s shoulders. Arm by arm, slotting them through the sleeves. Button by button, securing it up his abdomen, his chest, right up to his throat. If Harrison looks closely, one of his eyes is rimmed with scarlet, like a vessel there popped, and a pool of lilac simmers, almost undetectable, across his temple.

“You could’ve married her,” Harrison says. His voice has dropped to a whisper. Lonan swings his jacket around his shoulders, securing his arms through each loop of leather, one, two. Zipping so his exposed skin may rewarm.

“I need to take you home,” Lonan says. Lonan with the broken eye. Lonan with the blackberry skin. Lonan with the teeth-shorn shirt. Lonan with the mowed hair. Lonan with the burned palms. Lonan with the wedding ring that was never really a wedding ring. Lonan who looks as if he’s always prepared to blink, just in case something comes out to get him.

(lonan’s dialogue IS SO SOFT gay PINING said WHOMST i did i am whomst)

god i want to share more but I need to save stuff for the writing update, here’s one MORE THEN I AM GONE:

Harrison sleeps in the car on his way back and doesn’t wake until the next day. In that time, Suzanna slots takeout boxes through the unrolled window, three full meals: sweet corn and tomato fusilli, beef stifado, meatless cassoulet. What she doesn’t know is they sit, untouched, under the passenger’s seat, not because Lonan is averted by her cooking, but because he’s saving them to share, just in case. She brings a vacuum sealed bag of extra comforters the first evening when flurries dot the windshield, Harrison is swathed in them all by the time the snow reaches half an inch. One lined with Sherpa closest to his skin when he stirs, the bulbs of fabric like cottage cheese. In the time he’s in the car he dreams. Of driving into the ocean. Of haircuts. Marriage.

OK BYE

[icefang111]

hnnnng I have so much work to do and have done none of it and instead made homebrew for a warlock patron cause I know how to prioritise

anyway IDK how to balance anything ‘cause I’m a noob and this is the first thing I’ve ever tried to homebrew, and I don’t trust reddit to look over my stuff and be not a dick about it, but I trust tumblr marginally more. So if anyone would be down to do that lemme know, I’d greatly appreciate it :)

first draft is below the cut! (again sorry if it’s kind weird/very not balanced, idk what I’m doing my dude)

Aver'Bayzella is an ancient being, hidden away in her timeless realm. Is she fey, fiend, great old one, or a mix of them all? No one truly knows, and it matters not. For all that matters now is beauty, and adding that beauty to Aver'Bayzella's ever expanding collection.

*edited to include balance Crit from other places

Aver'Bayzella - The Collector of Beautiful Things - NE

Aver'Bayzella can't stand the dirty and disgusting material plain, but loves the few, rare, truly beautiful things that exist in it. Your job is to seek out and bring those beautiful things to her. Whether they are objects, buildings, plants, songs, creatures, people, places, etc if she wants it you will provide. Remember that beauty is the goal, not necessarily wealth. Though these things often coincide, they are not one in the same.

Upon your death or should you fail her one too many times, what's left of your body and spirit will also be added to her collection.

Expanded Spell List

1 level - Tensers Floating  Disk, Identify

2 level - Locate  Object, Gift of Gab

3 level - Clairvoyance,  Blink, Incite Greed

4 level - Dominate  Beast , Stone Shape

5 level - Creation,  Dominate Person

 Level 1 - Beautiful Servant

Upon taking this pact you become Aver'Bayzella's property, and all things Aver'Bayzella owns must be beautiful. She has mercifully and graciously scrubbed all of your physical flaws away, making you the most perfect version of yourself and granted you a connection to her realm.

Your new beauty is captivating and eternal. You may gain advantage on persuasion, deception, and performance checks, as well as any checks that would be bolstered by your physically beautiful being 3 times per long rest.

Your physical form is ageless through your connection to Aver'Bayzella's timeless realm. You are stuck at the age she set for you upon making your pact. Though you are still mortal in every other way, you cannot die of old age.

 Level 6 - Creator of Beauty

Having proven your eye for the beautiful, Aver'Bayzella has decided to expand the ways you can serve her by training you to making beautiful things for her.

You are taught two artisans tool proficiencies from the following list: Calligraphy, Carpentry, Cobbler, Cook, Glassblower, Jeweler, Mason, Painter, Potter, Smith, Weaver, and Woodcarver.

With an action you are able to summon any of the tools from the list above that you are proficient in. These tools appear in a spectral form and will disappear when not in use.

As well, 2 times per long rest, you can instantly manifest a temporary object that you could make with your tool proficiencies from the list above. This item may be no larger than 5 ft in any dimension. The object lasts for 2d20 hours as rolled at creation. It is solid/real, non-magical but appear obviously magical in nature, and cannot be used as a spell component.

If the character has or attains additional tool proficiencies from the list above through other means, they can use these abilities with them as well.

Level 10 - Beautiful Veil

As property of Aver'Bayzella, you are a valued and beautiful creature. Those who would seek to harm beauty must be punished. A protective veil now shrouds you, which you may call upon 1 time per short or long rest.

When you are hit with and attack from an attacker, you may use your reaction to call upon the veil for protection, negating all damage from the attack. You may pick one form of retribution from the following:

Behold Beauty- Your attacker and all those in a 10ft cube centered on you must make a constitution saving throw against your spell save DC, or is blinded for a maximum of 1 minute with consecutive con saves each round.

Worship Beauty- Charm Person is cast on your attacker.

Poisonous Beauty - Starting on their turn, your attacker must make a con save against your warlock spell save DC at the start of each of their turns or takes half your warlock level (rounded down) in poison damage, and half of that on a successful save. After 3 successful saves the poison subsides.

 Level 14 - Judgement of Beauty

Aver'Bayzella now trusts your eye for beauty enough to help her bring judgement to the beautiful and the ugly. Once per long rest you can use your action to send one creature of your choice to Aver'Bayzella realm to be judged by her. She will reveal her judgement to you on your next turn. Her judgement is decided by the DM.

Beautiful - Those she deems beautiful she will keep in her domain.

Normal - Those she rejects will be sent back to their previous position or the nearest unoccupied square and take 10d10 psychic damage from the encounter.

Disgusting - Those she deems disgusting she will yeet back with particularly nasty force, and they will instead take 10d20 force damage.

[halowastaken]

Why I Left (chapter 6)

read it on ao3!

Summary:

Deep inside of him he hoped that If Mr. Stark ever finds out he won't hate him and he will help him, but that wasn't possible. Mr. Stark was the good guy and as ex-good-guy Peter knows that the good guy's work was to get rid of the bad guy, and Peter wasn’t ready for that. Tony cared about him. It would destroy him. It’s almost been a month of this secret. A full month of pain that Peter has to go through daily.

---

When Peter woke up he felt better. He actually didn't feel like dying for the first time ever since May died. That morning Peter decided that he was gonna tell Tony.

For Peter's surprise, Tony wasn't in the kitchen when he got out of his room. When he asked FRIDAY where he was, she answered 'the lab' which was unusual because, well, it’s FRIDAY. That confused Peter. Tony stopped a while ago staying all night in the lab.

Peter took the elevator and when the door opened he was even more confused. Tony was reading a paper. Tony never uses paper. He thinks that it is dumb given that you can't go two meters and don't find a tablet or phone in his household. But he was reading papers. And using a pencil. Not a pen. A pencil

"Who are you and where is Mr. Stark?" Is the only thing that comes out of Peter's mouth. Tony looks up and raises an eyebrow

"Well. You got me. I am an alien for another galaxy and Tony is on my native planet. What gave away my identity?" Tony says jokingly

"The paper? I thought you didn't use those anymore" Peter said and Tony rolled his eyes

"I know. This, my friend, is the final draft of the Sokovia Accords. They told me to give it a final look before making them official and told me to use a pencil if I wanted to annotate something" Peter's jaw dropped in disbelief

"Hey that's my job! You usually let me do that! Not fair! I like correcting older people!"

"Yeah ok but this is, like, the final thing. As in 'official final super important' thing. That and also last time you made all of your notes with a pen" Peter scoffed

"It's not like they don't have millions of copies"

"It was a glitter pen!"

"I had nothing else at the moment! And it looked good!" Tony gets back to the paper

"Tell that to everyone in the UN. Imagine me trying to explain why did Tony Stark used purple glitter pen in the accords" Peter raises an eyebrow

"The pen was yours"

"So? You have glitter pens too and use them on a regular basis. Mind your own business"

"Whatever. What have you written?" Tony sighs

"So far so good. This changes are good" Peter sits next to him

"You do notice that it's literally the original document but they just clarified a bunch of unnecessary stuff and they explain everything as if they were trying to explain it to a nine year old?"

"Yep. It's on purpose. We need the guys that think like nine year olds to understand that the accords are the best for all of us" Peter rolls his eyes "Don't get sassy. You know that the world needs those guys even if you don't like them"

"The world seems doing pretty well without them. We should just try to reach Thor and Dr. Banner. They're the good guys. And I know that King T'Challa wouldn't mind being an Avenger"

"You did" Peter's jaw dropped

"Don't make this about me! I am being serious! There are so many people qualified for the job and yet you want to stick with the ones that don't deserve it!" Tony's look changes a bit

"Listen, kid. The past is in the past. I don't like them either. However even I am willing to sacrifice my ego for the greater good. The world needs them" Tony says more seriously. Peter just crosses his arms and Tony ruffles his curls "It's not like you're gonna meet them. Actually you're not gonna do that. I forbid you to do that. I don't trust them and I don't want you with them"

"That's great because I don't want to be with them either. I don't want to hurt anyone" Tony slowly turns to see him and then gets back to work. It's time for Peter to tell him "The reason I came here is because I have to tell you something and-"

"Hey by the way, is there any chance that you can stay the weekends like always? If Rhodey is gone and Pepper is working It gets lonely in here" Peter sighed

"Not anytime soon. I'll let you know if that changes"

"At what time are you supposed to be in school? I can't drop you off today and you know how Happy is"

"I still got time. I-"

"Kid I know I don't tell you this very often, but I am really proud of you kiddo. Since I've met you you've changed for the better. And I like to think that I changed too maybe? Everyone agrees that I was a mess before you came, including me. I really want you to know that I am glad you are here. And I am sorry if I got you in trouble” Peter’s eyes widened. Well fuck. That complicates things.

“Y-yeah. I am glad I am here too. And don’t worry about me. I am fine” His inside was screaming in pain. He couldn't tell if his asthma was back or it was just a panic attack but he really wished it was just asthma

“God I am glad I left that out of my chest. It was eating my inside” You got to be kidding me “So. What were you gonna tell me?” Well now nothing

“I liked your lasagna” Peter said immediately. Tony smiled and rolled his eyes

“Thanks kiddo. It was my mom’s recipe” Tony said and Peter’s phone rang. He checked who it was. Happy

“Happy is calling. He is probably here already" Peter said disappointed on himself

"Go then. You know how Happy gets" Tony said and then returned to the papers. Peter kept staring for a second. He didn't want to talk about it. Not even to Tony and specifically not now. If Peter tells him every hope that Tony has for him will die leaving him alone. Peter didn't want to be alone again. He wanted his aunt and his uncle and his family back. He wanted to go back in time. But that couldn't happen. That's not physically possible. So Peter didn't have lots of options left. Peter just wanted to end with his suffering, yet he isn't going to do it because that scares him. Because he is a coward. He is the bad guy

That's all he could think of. While he was at school he tried to focus but he couldn't. He couldn't help but think of the 'what ifs' of the situation. He just wanted to be happy. He was happy before. Even though his family was a little dysfunctional, he was happy. Now he just wants to die. His life sucks and it's his own fault.

After school he went out as Spiderman and it was actually a good day for the arachnid. He stopped a bank robbery and a guy that was in a car accident and almost got yeeted (or is it yoted?) over the Brooklyn bridge. Spiderman was the only thing that kept Peter alive. If not what else? It was the best thing going on with his life. He wished it wasn't that way. He wished that Peter Parker was happy too. But most importantly, he wished that Ben won't notice that he is past his curfew.

He snuck back in from the window, but he didn't have his suit on anymore. He decided to take it off before going home. When he got to his room he laid down in his bed and sighted. He was a little worried about Ben now. He needs a new job and all he is doing is staying on the couch drinking. What's up with that? Peter knows damn well Ben and he's not the kinda guy that gets fired in the first place-

"Where the hell have you been?!" Ben yelled, kicking Peter's door. He had the same shirt as two days ago and a bottle of wine in his hand. The image wasn't pretty

"Decathlon practice" That was only half true. He was supposed to be at decathlon practice but he skipped it

"For two fucking days?! Do you think I am an idiot?!" Peter raises an eyebrow

"You told me I could stay on Thursdays at Tony's! I was there!" Ben scoffs

"I didn't say shit! Stop lying to my fucking face!" Before Peter could answer Ben slapped him. Ben slapped him "I've had enough of your bullshit! Don't you think you've done enough?!" Peter was in shock. He didn't know how to react. That was the last thing Peter expected "God you're such a pain in the ass" Then he left the room and closed the door as loud as he could while he was doing it.

Peter just stared at the door with tears in his eyes. He knew that he deserved it. He deserved hell. He was the bad guy.

He is the bad guy

I am the bad guy

It's all my fault

I should just die already

I am the bad guy

---

It kept going.

What once was only a slap in the face turned into beating.

Peter was sure that Ben was gonna kill him, but he didn't actually care.

As a matter of fact Ben would do a favor to the world if he finally kills him.

And the days with Tony were the worst.

He had to keep all his scars hidden for his own sake because Peter was a murderer.

His way of dealing with it was that he would just lock himself in his side of the lab with his soundproof headphones and start coding. Yeah that's something he does now. He codes like a boss. Tony Stark level coding and all of that. He got into it right after May died.

Nobody has noticed something is going on. Peter found May's old makeup bag and his concealer techniques were good. But it wasn't Mr. Stark's fault. He didn't want him to know anyways, right? That wasn't something that Peter wanted

Right?

Deep inside of him he hoped that If Mr. Stark ever finds out he won't hate him and he will help him, but that wasn't possible. Mr. Stark was the good guy and as ex-good-guy Peter knows that the good guy's work was to get rid of the bad guy, and Peter wasn’t ready for that. Tony cared about him. It would destroy him.

It’s almost been a month of this secret.

A full month of pain that Peter has to go through daily.

But it was fine. Peter deserved it. He was the bad guy and that is what bad guys deserve

“We’re running out of food” Peter says thinking out loud while checking the fridge. Ben wasn’t home yet so Peter took the opportunity to get out of his room for just five minutes. And as a matter of fact they were running out of food. Ben stopped going grocery shopping weeks ago (Now he just goes alcohol shopping and calls that ‘groceries’). Ben also hasn’t got a job so the money is another issue. Everything they had is going to every bottle Ben buys. Peter really has to figure out what to do because they also have to pay rent, and taxes, and go buy some decent food, and all of that, and Ben doesn’t seem to care enough anymore.

“What the hell are you doing?” Peter’s eyes widened as he turned around. He did feel his spider senses going off but he totally ignored it. He didn’t realize Ben arrived. Before Peter could answer Ben already started the shitshow “It's your fucking fault!” He yelled and kicked Peter in the stomach; it made Peter gag. There was nothing there and it hurt more. “She’s gone because of you ! You were supposed to die and she died for you! You don’t give a damn about it though, because you’re a selfish little prick who don’t deserve to live! She was everything to me and you took her away. That’s all you do, is take and take and take and you never stop!” Ben yelled, kicking him and bringing him up to slam him in the wall. The words hurt more though and he started to cry. He could take a beating, but Ben's words hurt more than anything.

And the thing was he was right. Peter could’ve saved her. May would be alive and they’d be happy and everything would’ve been okay if he just hadn’t froze. Ben said other things but Peter had a ringing in his ear blocking everything out “Go to your goddamn room! I am tired of your fucking face!” Peter immediately got up as he could and ran to his room to then lock himself in. He looked at himself in the mirror and tried to stop crying but he couldn’t. In times like this he really wishes he was Spiderman and not Peter. Spiderman is a superhero that doesn’t fear anything. Peter is just human. He bleeds when he falls down, and he crashes and breaks down.

Ben’s words in his head were like knives in the heart. It was like he built Peter up and then made sure he falls apart, but he is only human. But he is the bad guy. He is the villain of the story. The guy that children fear. He was a monster. The least he deserved is to be treated like a normal person. But god did it hurt. That night Peter tries to clear his mind coding in his laptop. A drone design. Something basic but fun. While he was doing that he got a call. It was painful to answer

“Hey Tony” Peter said with his fake happy voice

“Care to tell me why the hell are you not here?” Tony says more jokingly than mad

“What do you mean?” Peter asks confused

“Oh my god. Parker how dare you? I thought that we had something special!” Peter raised an eyebrow and Tony scoffed “It’s Thursday. Why are you not here?” Peter’s eyes widened. Holy shit he forgot about Tony

“I had to pick something up from the department. I am on my way” Peter lies immediately and Tony just laughs

“It’s fine if you forgot. If you still want to come just tell me when you get here” Peter rolled his eyes

“No can do. I like surprises and you know that. I’ll swing by eventually” Peter said and then hung up. He immediately put everything that he wanted to bring in his backpack and put on the suit. Minutes later the Spiderman was swinging towards the Stark tower.

The fact that he went to spend the night with Tony doesn’t mean he forgets.

He is the bad guy.

He is the bad guy.

[ducktales-wco-oo]

✩ How I Run My Blog! ✩

Speed: 

Slow As Hell, for the most part. True, there are times when I yeet replies out because me and/or my muse are ridiculously invested in a thread, or inspiration instantly strikes. However, my default tends to be Really Slow. Something I try to make prominent to everyone since I understand some people prefer to not wait months at a time for a response- which is something I often end up doing. For a variety of reasons: be it because muses are fickle, it tends to take hours at a time for me to craft replies, I literally have hundreds of threads... As a result of this, I don’t drop threads too often either? Usually, they're lingering in my drafts, and it isn’t uncommon for a hella old one to suddenly be thrust onto the dash.

Of course, I never expect people to reply to Old Threads if they don’t want to, and don’t mind either way! I just like offering a response so I didn’t just abruptly drop it. :3 But yeah, I am a very slow roleplayer and while I hope my writing is decent enough to be worth the wait, I’ve had experience interacting with others who obviously prefer things to be quick and constant. Which I am not. Not delving into THOSE experiences because yeah- They weren’t the best. lol But I just want to make it clear that my speed does not equate my interest in a thread or in interacting with others. I am just a hella slow person who wants to write about birbs. 

Replies: 

My replies tend to get L O N G. I am not adept at short threads, and even ones that start out as really small back-and-forth replies are pretty much guaranteed to get longer on my side within a few responses. My muses like to get introspective and I like to get descriptive- I’m talking several paragraphs before they start to talk or even get to the point where they aren’t thinking-about/reacting-to whatever your muse did in the last reply. XD I’ve noticed that my average seems to be three-to-five paragraphs, but it isn’t uncommon for me to break the double-digits at times. Of course, I never expect my partners to match length and as long as I’m given more than a couple sentences in return, it’s all good. 

Starters: 

Whenever I add a new muse, I often post a Starter Call for them. They tend to vary in length, but are often two-to-three paragraphs long because I’ve tried to make single sentence ones and it never seems to work out. Occasionally, I’ll throw out random Open Starters when inspiration or a random idea strikes. These starters are free for as many people to respond to as they want, and are ALWAYS open regardless of how long ago I posted them.  

Inbox: 

My Inbox is always open and I am constantly reblogging RP and Ask memes for it. However, again I shall bring up my Turtle-Like speed because my asks do tend to snowball. Right now I have 966 asks, so it’s no surprise that sometimes they can get lost in the pile. But I have a habit of answering random ones whenever threads aren’t working or I’m in a mood for something specific that a reply won’t give, so that’s why I continuously reblog things. I like having a healthy stash of stuff to answer when needed. So don’t be surprised if an ask you forgot you even sent is suddenly popping up onto the dash. XD 

Selectivity: 

I am semi-selective, meaning that while I am willing to RP with people I am not technically mutuals with, I won’t RP with everyone. I’m not trying to discourage people from approaching or make anyone feel poorly, there are just certain writing styles that I tend to gravitate towards and click more easily with. For example, if I notice that someone’s blog is filled with a surplus of one-liner back-and-forth, uncut replies, chances are I’m not going to follow because I don’t want my dash constantly cluttered. Maybe I’ll RP if they approach and give more than single sentences in our threads, but I’m not going to automatically promise to interact with everyone. Because I did that before and honestly, it’s not fair to me or the other person if I’m not actually enjoying replying to a thread. 

I don’t take graphics or Aesthetics into consideration when it comes to following or interacting. After all, what is important is the writing and the fun. :3 

Wishlist: 

I have a tag for random things that I thought would be fun to explore- #Got The Quacking Craze || {Wishlist}

But if I have to state some specific things, I suppose that right now I’d enjoy threads in some of my AU verses. Specifically, the Siren AU for Fenton because I LOVE that fluffy fish and it’s a shame that I don’t often get to write in it. Another AU that I like is the Robo AU for Louie, and I’ve rarely used it as well. Not to mention, his negaversion Louis is a precious boi who I definitely wouldn’t mind more interactions with. Oh! It’d also be cool to have threads that take place when my muses are kids- particularly: Fenton, Gladstone, and Mark. 

Or threads that take place during College/Teen years. Again with: Fenton, Gladstone, and this time Imma throw Panchito into the mix. Some College Caballeros, perhaps? Some Fenton-still-with-his-assnugget-bf Angst? Some glam-rock-phase Gladstone dealing with the jealousy of his peers, the still-lingering guilt of having ‘killed’ his parents, and crushing on his nerdy best friend all wrapped up in the facade of Teen Drama? JNFFJKSDFNDSF... 

Honest Notes: 

As well as being slow with Replies and Asks, I am oftentimes slow with my IMs. This is nothing personal against anyone! I just get overwhelmed at times and have the memory of a potato. Which means sometimes I’ll think I replied or just flat-out forget until days later. Plus Tunglr LOVES to screw with my messages, so more often than not I’m not even alerted of them until hours upon hours later... Long story short, I really do enjoy talking with all of you and love getting messages from my friendos. Seriously, I don’t mind if when I’m flooded with them. It just sometimes takes me a bit to gather up enough energy to reply coherently.

Random Side Notes: 

My blog is pretty messy and while I’m trying to whip up bios that are more than just notes for my own benefit hastily scrawled down whenever I was in a muse-adding frenzy, lots of info about my muses tend to either be in my own head or jotted down on the random Headcanon posts I sometimes throw into the wild. XD I also have a habit of analyzing the HELL out of things when I get excited, so long-ass posts like those sometimes pop up as well. 

Speaking of excitement, there WILL be times when I gush about the star of this blog- *motions at Fenton* and everyone must Accept That. Because he is my FLUFFY SON and I shan’t apologize for loving him with every fiber of my being. X3 Sometimes I’ll go off about other characters too, but more often than not it is HIM. OOC posts are a thing too.

Sometimes inspiration comes in bursts and muses take over the blog for a day or a few- like right now, how Fenton is dominating everything. My birbs are fickle bishes and I’ve learned to just let them fight over who is going to get the attention, then roll with whoever wins. This is why I encourage people to interact with as many muses as they want and start as many threads as they’d like. That way, no matter which muse is strong or what kind of thread I am in the mood for, there’s a chance something will Work With Me. Besides, I’m always up for new threads and ideas, regardless of how many things we are juggling already. 

That being taken into account- Please understand that I oftentimes don’t know WHO the Hell I’m going to feel the muse for or WHAT threads they will be. So no rushing or nagging for replies because all that does is make my muses drag their feet. :’3 

Tagged by: @soul-heart-and-beyond​

Tagging: Whoever wants to! :3 

[leina-reads-homestuck]

Okaaaaay, the “read more” function is broken apparently, it’s been two times I try to post this text, once as a draft and then as an actual post, just to end up with a “url not found” when I try to reread it... good thing I saved it, and be careful if you post stuff under a “read more”  ( °   °)

So behold

Have a wall of text as I’m lying down some thoughts about my AU

edit : it”s working again so nevermind I guess,

_______________________________________________________________

Speaking of Pesterquest and that retconning juju, I have actually thought about using John’s retcon powers in my AU, instead of just picking up at the end of Act 7

So he can snatch the ring of life before Aranea gets to mess up with it and fuck herself up in the process (maybe that’s what happened, I don’t know, I yeeted myself off the comic before all this shit happened precisely and know about it only thanks to spoilers, I don’t think I even want to know at that point, it’s too much of a sore spot to me)

What if it’s a possibility in Pesterquest and I get to actually save her butt ? Wweh that probably won’t happen ( . _ .)

Anyways, the reason why it didn’t happen in my AU is that I actually like the thought of Aranea turning evil (just not the disastrous outcome, haha). It makes sense, to me it was bound to happen and I think it’s a very important part of her character, she also looks freaking hot that way and it’s interesting to picture her coming back from it and, thanks to some characters she meets, realizing that she didn’t need to turn into a huge vriska  a huge 8itch  okay just a huge vriska  to get the respect and feeling of self-worth that she craves.

Using John’s retcon powers to rewrite part of the story is also hard when you have missed huge bits of said story and find it a tad too complicated anyways (I gave up on understanding what exactly is going on and I just focused on “gosh I hope the characters will be safe” instead, because oof)

Aranea’s path to recovery is a long one, she doesn’t magically becomes all nice again, her mind remains a bit twisted, you don’t get to flip completely your think pan without remaining a bit cynical and manipulative, she also has to deal with not so funny stuff such as PTSD, but she gets moral support, and things look a lot better for her than they did in the comic

There’s a lot of characters that become closer to each other in this AU, cause I just want them to have a good time, occasions to bond with the ones they love, and finally get some rest after everything they went through ok and also fill pails

Nothing super meta and deep, just friends having fun

And well, the Ancestors make an appearance at some point ( °3°)

I have considered yeeting back the Beforans and the dead trolls into the narrative (thanks to Time/Life/Void shenanigans, I don’t even know at this point), I can’t help but picturing Feferi as the Empress and the Beforan trolls finally becoming adults

I mean adult-adults, since they were like in their late teens when they died and I hc that trolls undergo a massive growth spurt when they turn 10 sweeps old, which is called the final molt and gives them all the features adult trolls have - they grow taller, stronger, plumpier and get longest fangs and horns. Though it’s not actually a “molt” per se since they don’t shed skin or anything, it’s associated with it since it happens in a relatively short time (one to three weeks depending on the position on the hemospectrum) and the metamorphosis is quite impressive. 

Horns and fangs keep growing as the troll ages but at a much slower rate. The expression of the face can change as a troll grows older. They don’t age the way humans do, in the sense they don’t become all weak and wrinkled, but their features tend to become sharpest and their expression more hostile (especially true for Alternians, most of them get a resting bitch face at the end of their life).

When a young troll starts eating lots, notice the apparition of mood swings and see their need for sleep increase, it’s the sign that something is going on, and they go through a period of lethargy, after which they wake up and discover their new body. It’s a very important period in a troll’s life because from now on they’re considered fully grown-up. Some trolls molt prematurely due to intense stress, as it’s part of their instinct to be combat-ready as early as they can. 

Mindfang became fully adult when she was only 9 sweeps old (she got kidnapped and forced to serve on a pirate ship, which would trigger a fight-or-flight response in anyone, I think). Unfortunately, as the process can also mess up a young troll’s thinkpan, her already explosive mood would become hella unstable as a result.

[probablymango]

Dungeons and Arcana

Chapter 3: The Tavern

Julian sets his glasses on the table and rubs the bridge of his nose. It had been a long day and he was more than willing to go to bed, but he needed to be here. Past him thought it would be best to bring her to the Rowdy Raven, so that Lucio could meet her, then they could talk while he drinks, then go home and fall asleep. Past Julian didn’t consider that he’d have to cover a co-worker’s shift and have 2 kids throw up on him in the span of an hour before having to sit in a crowded bar with loud music. He looks up at Asra, tempted to text him and tell him to play something quieter, but didn’t want to put on his glasses.

There was motion at the seat next to him and he turned to see a familiar mess of red hair. “Hello, sir, can you help me find my brother? He’s a tall stick with nerd ass glasses.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. I forgot how to laugh.” He grins, putting his glasses back on to see Portia properly. “How’ve you been?”

“Could’ve been better.” She shrugs. “Could’ve had actual instructions on how to get here instead of just a name.”

“I didn’t?” He pulls out his phone and looked at his messages for her and…. Oh… Oh. Right in front of him sat the instructions on how to get here, saved as a draft and unsent. “Sorry ‘bout that.” His cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

She shrugs, leaning against the table. “It’s cool, met a guy who helped me find this place, so it’s all good.”

He nods, then waves Lucio over.

“What?”

“Pasha, this is Lucio. Montag, this is Portia.” He grinned as both of them glared at him.

“Really? Really, Ilya?” She frowned at him.

“Already introducing me with my old name?” Lucio crossing his arms.

He grins, leaning slightly away from both of them. “What? Having a small case of the Mondays?”

“Julian!” They both yell at him as he laughs.

Portia slugs him, face scrunched as she’s torn between laughing and yelling at him. “So dumb!”

“I don’t get paid enough for this.” Lucio groans, rubbing his face. “Do you want a drink or not?”

“Yes, I’ll take a Hot White Russian and she’ll have…” He looks to Portia for her order.

She gives him an unimpressed look, then turns to Lucio. “A Guinness beer, for now.” When he leaves, she turns to him, continuing the look. “‘Hot White Russian’?”

He grins. “It’s coffee with Kahlúa and Vodka.”

“..... You choose it because of its name, didn’t you?”

He grins wider. “It would be a lie to say I didn’t.”

“Oh my god, Ilya!”

They laugh, making some small talk and jabs as they waited for their drinks. They talked all about whatever came to mind; people, jobs, animals, their mothers, friends, and weird stuff that has happened to them.

“Holy shit, you can’t be serious. Thirteen crit roles? In one session?!” She howls with laughter, face red from all the laughing.

“Yes, it did! My dice are cursed and Lucio won’t let me borrow his!” His own face red from both, embarrassment and laughter.

Lucio snorts, setting down their drinks. “I don’t want you cursing my dice too. It’s bad enough that you get shitty rolls, I, the dm, don’t want to make the campaign too easy for y’all.”

“Boooooooooo! Thank you.” He grinned, giving his card to Lucio as he takes his drink and starts drinking it. Maybe he should request it without the cream next. “Oh! Before I forget, Portia, this is Lucio the DM. Lucio, this is the sister who plans on joining us.”

“I’m sorry that you’re related to him.” Lucio gets mock serious.

“Hey.” Julian pouts.

“Thank you, I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Heeeey!”

They both giggle at him, then start to talk about the game, but that was about when Julian started to tune out and drink more. Despite his energetic talk with Portia, he was still very tired and wanted to go to bed. Hmmm, maybe he could- no. He can’t leave her here and expect someone else to take her home. That’s a horrible idea on many levels. Hmmmmmmmmmm.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a notification. He glanced at the other two, they were busy talking, so he decided to look. Ah, it appears that another person has decided to support his.. Blog. He smiles softly, then puts his phone away. He can examine that better when he wasn’t about to pass out.

“Got a girlfriend?”

He yelps, spinning around to face- oh, it’s just Asra and his shit eating grin. “Asra, you sneaky fox! What are you doing?”

He sits by him, poking his pocket with the phone. “You smiled at it. Find a boyfriend?”

This again. “No, I don’t have a date partner.”

“Family?”

He points to Portia, who is still talking to Lucio. “Sister already arrived.”

“Cute animal video?”

“No.” Why didn’t he just say yes to that? Asra would have accepted that answer or asked to watch it.

Asra pouts, not happy that he hasn’t figured it out yet, and scooted the chair closer. “A fic update?”

“No.” He chuckles softly, his younger friend was still being cute while being a nosey brat. “Lucio! Can I get another drink?”

Lucio stopped talking to his sister for now, looking disappointed about being interrupted, but willing to stop talking about the game for money. “Yeah, yeah.” He takes his glass and walks away.

Shit, he forgot to ask for no cream this time. Oh well.

“Who’s this?” Portia was now leaning between him and the table. “Is this your s/o?”

Julian blushed, pushing her face away. “Pasha, that’s Asra. Asra, this is my brat of a sister, Portia.”

Portia laughed, sticking her hand out for Asra and talking despite her brother’s hand still firmly in her face. “Nice to meet you, ‘probably dating my brother’ Asra.”

Asra laughs, shaking her hand. “Hello, ‘fellow brat’ Portia.”

Julian rolls his eyes, taking his hand off her face and leaning back, letting himself be third-wheeled again so that neither of them would question his phone for a while. He pulls out his phone again, there was another notification. He put it away. He watches them for a while longer, then decided to get back into their conversation.

“- and then his character tried to seduce the dragon!” Asra laughs.

“Oh my god, that’s so Julian!” She laughs and snorts.

He looked between them, suddenly wishing to back out of the conversation, but Lucio was back with his drink. “Thank you.”

Lucio nods, then joins the other two in their nerd conversations.

He hopes that they get done soon, he wants to go to bed. Maybe he can convince Portia to drive. He sips his drink as he tries to keep his eyes open. This was a horrible idea. He should try to remember to ask without the cream next time. Coffee sounds great. There’s a guy sitting by Asra. Why were seats without backs invented? Wait, who is that guy?

He snaps back to reality enough to focus on the guy. “..... Hi.”

“Hello. Are you a doctor?”

He gives him a look. “No… Why?”

“The scrubs.”

Scrubs? What scrubs? He looks down and sees that he’s sit wearing his replacement scrubs. “Oh. No. I’m just a nurse. You know? The one you see before the doctor.”

The guy smirks and chuckles. “Tired?”

Julian nods, rubbing his face. He needs to piss. “I’m going to piss.” He gets up, ignoring everyone’s remarks, and heading straight to where he thinks the bathroom is. He walks into the room to discover that for once in his tired life, he was correct. Ow. The light was too bright in here. He was about to do his business when he bumped into a very nice looking blond. “M’sorry.” This guy’s eyes were a really pretty brown.

“It’s fine.” The guy backed up, face getting red and readjusting his clothes. “It’s fine. Bye.” He walks around him and out the door.

“.... Lovely impression.” He yawns, becoming uncomfortably awake, but still tired. He did his business and stared at the mirror. “...... today is not your day.”

The bathroom mirror showed him someone with bright orange hair walking it. “.... this isn’t the right room.”

“Where are you looking for?”

“The gallery..”

“Next door, go up it’s stairs.”

They smile and he couldn’t help smiling back. “Thank you!” They walk out and soon he follows their example, leaving the bathroom and going back to the group.

The group consisted of Portia, Asra, Lucio, and that guy who is still sitting by Asra. His seat was taken over by his sister. “Damn it.” He takes her seat, too tired to fight over the seat. “What did I miss?”

“Mostly embarrassing stories of you.”

“Sweet. Did you tell anyone about the time my elf got yeeted by Nadia’s dragonborn?”

Lucio grins. “We absolutely will.”

He joined them in conversation this time, the light and energy helped him feel more awake and able to talk again. So he joined them in the making fun of himself and others in their group. He learned many things tonight, one, that his sister is definitely willing to make fun of him, two, that the other guy was called Valerius, and three, he never remembered to ask without cream.

Julian thinks for a bit, then pats Portia’s shoulder til she pays attention to him. “Pashaaaaaa. Can you drive us home?”

She shakes her head. “Can’t, didn’t get my license updated for here.” She sounded almost as drunk as himself.

“Wait, wait.” He sits up straighter and holds up a finger, as if it would help his thinking. “If I’m not driving and you’re not driving, then who’s driving?”

In their drunken state, the Devorak siblings found this to be the most important and brain rattling question in the world. Their more sober friends were less confused and more amused.

“Jules, you walked here.” Lucio watches him from over his glasses. “Do we need to get you both a ride?”

“Yeah, it would probably be best if we didn’t let the two drunks walk each other home.” Asra muses, poking Julian’s cheek.  “Let’s just get them a lift, most people know where he lives at this point.”

Lucio nods and sighs. “I’ll charge it to his card, you get someone ready to take him.”

Asra runs off as Lucio starts charging the ride to Julian’s card. The red head then decides to start a conversation with his sister, neither of them knowing what the conversation was or about, but getting very into it.

Valerius looked on and laughed. “These are some of Muriel’s friends?”

Lucio shrugs, putting Julian’s card into the scrub pocket. “I think he might be loosely called a friend, but I’m not sure he’s met her yet.”

“I see. Is this a regular occurance with them?”

Lucio gives another shrug. “I’ve only known her since today and he’s usually more attention grabbing the more drunk he gets.”

He nods, setting his empty glass down. “So that’s what I should be expecting if I come back?”

“If you come back when he’s here, yeah.”

He grins, getting up as Asra returns. “I’ll consider that then.”

“Hey, Valentina is ready to take them.” Asra was followed by the blond man.

“So they are the ones for her to take?” The man walks over to the siblings and Portia waved excitedly at him. “Lovely.”

“Hiiiiiii!” Portia giggles more, slowly getting to her feet. “Time for home?”

“Home time?” Julian followed her example and tried to get up, knocking over the chair and falling on his butt. “Owww…..”

“Don’t move too much.” He kneels down and helps him up. “Do you know your name?”

Julian thought for a bit. “I’m…… I’m Ilya.”

“Hello, Ilya. Take slow steps to the door and keep your arm on me.”

“You have beautiful eyes.” He grins, watching the man get redder. “Very beautiful, like polished amber.” Asra is helping Portia outside instead of letting her take the dance floor.

“You’re drunk.”

“And you still have pretty eyes.” He sniffs the air for a bit as they got out, then sniffed his suit. “.... you smell expensive…”

“...... Uh, sure.” The darkness couldn’t hide the blush with Julian this close.

A car pulled up and Julian focused on that, a familiar brunette stepped out of the car. “Valentina!”

“Drunk again?” She smiles, pushing back her black hair so that she could help him into the car. “Hey Claudius.”

He nods at her, carefully putting the drunk red-head into the back of the car, then helped Portia in. “Yeah, I was around and need to talk to you about something.”

She sighs, getting them into seatbelts. “Can we talk about it later? I don’t want to talk about it with him in the car and… whoever she is.”

“Portia!” She giggles, looking out the window.

The blond, crawls into the passenger seat. “Why not? They’re drunk and probably won’t remember anything we say.”

“Untrue.” Val gets into her seat and points at Julian. “That fucker remembers almost everything he hears! I once mention wanting flowers for a holiday, then the next day this bastard sends me an entire bouquet! Just because he felt bad for me!”

“You deserve floweeeeers.” He whines from the back.

“....... I guess we can wait til later to talk then.” Claud glanced back at the drunk siblings, contemplating something, but shaking it off for now.

Julian looked out the window and let the ride pass him by as he unconsciously listened to the others in the car. This is going to be an adventure.

( I would like to thank @sassra-the-empath (the breifly mentioned redhead) and @deathmcrk (Claud and Val) for letting me use their ocs