#anyone looks at her wrong i will make them regret being born''

[teddybeirin]

cursed for the rest of time with a sense of mortal morality and awareness of ethical concerns

#maeve.txt #''mortals are nothing but toys'' -> ''this is my new daughter she can be slain by almost everything present in her environment and if #anyone looks at her wrong i will make them regret being born''

[c-nstantine]

sense of normalcy

description: Jason & Black!Batmom in four stages of his life

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, death, mommy issues, grieving, talks about Jason's death a lot

Jason: Age 12

Bruce had warned Alfred that there would be a guest joining him and of course, Alfred told Y/N. She was more than excited to have someone visiting the manor. It had been lonely since Dick struck out on his own. He visited but it wasn't the same as having a kid running around the manor. 

"Who might you be?" Y/N said approaching the boy who Bruce helped out of the Batmobile. He was rather lean for his height but his eyes looked like they sparkled as if the world never did him wrong. Y/N felt a pang in her heart and she looked towards Bruce who avoided her gaze.

"Jason Todd. You're on TV." He recognized the woman from the TVs that were on display in the stores that he passed as he walked down the street. Alfred had rushed back upstairs to fix the young boy something to eat.

"Sometimes, how would you like to stay with Bruce and me?" She had already decided that he would stay. She couldn't let the boy go back to whatever back alley Bruce found him on. 

"I'd love to," The boy's eyes twinkled once more as he smiled at Y/N.

Jason: Age 16

Jason was a good kid. He promised Y/N that he would be a good kid. He got good grades, and he excelled at English. Entering his teenage years, he only grew closer and more protective of Y/N but Y/N still saw him as the lean little boy who tried to steal the hubcaps off of the Batmobile. 

"Why is my son here?" Y/N asked, not even bothering to sit in the principal's chair. Her son had not a scratch on his face but he did have a bruised knuckle that definitely wasn't from patrol.

"He got into a fight, Mrs. Wayne," The principal of Gotham Academy said a bit smugly. Jason hated it here. He loved the teachers and learning but the kids were assholes. Not all of them, but the ones who thought he didn't belong because he wasn't born to the money. Kids could be cruel.

"Jason?" Y/N tilted her head towards her son, softening her gaze.

"He was making fun of me for being adopted and my accent," Jason spoke differently than the preppy kids of Gotham Academy but Y/N always encouraged him to speak how he wanted. His words were a part of him and he shouldn't have to change it for anyone.

"So my son was being bullied and he defended himself. Does that sound good to you, Principal Paulette?" Y/N gave the fakest smile known to the man while brushing faux loc behind her ear. 

"It sounds perfect, Mrs. Wayne," Principal Paulette simply groaned. 

"C'mon, Jason. We're getting ice cream." She smiled and waved for her son to follow her out of the office.

-

"Bruce is gonna be upset you're rewarding me," Jason said mixing his bowl of scooped chocolate chip ice cream together until it became the consistency of soft serve. He couldn't meet her eye yet. He felt like he had disappointed her and that maybe she regretted keeping him. What he didn't know is that he could never do anything that would make her not love him.

"You know I'll always love you, right? No matter what those kids say," Y/N said reaching over the table to ruffle his hair. He styled every morning with an absurd amount of gel but it didn't look like him.

"I know, ma, I know," He heard the words and wanted to believe them but he already decided that he'd leave and find his real mother. In his mind, she wouldn't miss him anyway, right?

"Good 'cause you my baby boy," She said with a bright smile.

-

He was in pain and cold. His mind was drifting in and out of consciousness. The faint beeping of the bombs was heard in the background and tears fell from his eyes as he realized this was his end. This was it. He was gonna meet the great big man in the sky and he didn't get to say goodbye to Y/N. He could die with disappointing Bruce but Y/N. Y/N had never seen him as more than a boy because that's what he was. He was just a child who didn't get to say goodbye to his mom. 

Jason: Deceased

Y/N was pacing a hole in the carpet. She stood in the study of Wayne Manor waiting here something, anything, back from Bruce. He hadn't contacted her since he left to find Jason and that was days ago.

"You said he'd come back," She said as Bruce walked through the grandfather clock entrance of the study. She noticed there was no Jason, she could hear his laughter like he normally did when he returned from a night out.

"Y/N," Bruce could see his wife about cry right in front of them. She tried to blink away tears so that they wouldn't fall down her brown cheeks. He could tell she hadn't been sleeping with Jason missing.

"You went to go get him. Where is he?" Y/N asked again with a bit more authority. 

"Honey, sit down. Alfred, bring her some tea," Bruce was trying to put the words together but Y/N simply fell apart on the couch. 

"No, don't tell me that, "She knew exactly what that meant, "He was just a baby," She whispered as Bruce held her in his arms. 

Jason: Age 22

"Ma?" Jason called for her as she was putting Martha and Alfred down for a nap. Y/N walked out of the nursery and closed the door behind her. His mom had aged a little since she took him home but not too much. Sure she had grey hairs mixed into her silk press but she was still the exact same woman who loved him at first sight.

"Yeah, Jason," She looked up at her son with a bright smile. Jason now towered her but he'd always be her baby boy. 

"I'm sorry," Jason said quickly. He had been holding it in since he died. He never told anyone but in the last moments before his death, he regretted not telling Y/N he loved her more and how much he'd miss her.

"What are you sorry for?" Y/N asked tilting her head slightly. 

"I'm sorry for leaving that night. I'm sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to hurt you," Jason's voice cracked as he moved to hug his mom. He didn't know how much pain one decision could cause.

"Oh, baby," She said rubbing his back. She felt tears coming to her eyes as she felt his on her cheek. 

"I'm sorry, ma, I'm so sorry," He muttered over and over again. His face had flushed red against her brown skin. Bruce had seen the moment but decided it was best for him not to interfere but he was happy to see Jason working through his emotions.

"You're here now and that's all I've ever wanted, okay? How about some ice cream?" Y/N said pulling away gently. Ice cream was one of her biggest pregnancy cravings so now they have a lifetime of Bluebell in their deep freezer.

"Yeah, ma," Jason spoke with a small smile. He was finally back to a sense of normalcy. 

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #black reader #bruce wayne x black!reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #black!batmom #jason todd #jason todd angst #jason todd x reader #jason todd x batmom

[theemporium]

idk if it's blurb material but remus' girlfriend being all quiet and shy until #theprank, and she just loses her absolute shit and tears them a new one for putting remus in that position but also is ultimately the one who helps bring them back together in the aftermath

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

“Babe—”

“No! Don’t you even try to ‘babe’ me right now, Sirius Black, or I will hex your ass back into the sixties, you hear me?”

“...yes, ma’am.”

No one had ever seen you so angry. No one even knew you could be angry. 

When Remus Lupin had told his friends that he was talking to a girl over a year ago, none of them quite expected to see you. Not for any bad reasons at all, it was more so just the fact that Remus himself could be quite quiet and shy, so they didn’t really expect a girl who was shy and quiet herself. 

But you and Remus just worked, and it was never a concern for them as long as their boy was happy. 

They had seen you in a variety of situations and moods. They had seen you on the days you were agitated and would snap at someone, only to profusely apologise less than thirty seconds later. They had seen you get frustrated to the point of tears, usually closer to exam season or assignment deadlines. 

But never once in the last year since you began dating Remus had they ever seen you this mad, and that was all thanks to Sirius’ great idea to prank Snape in one of the stupidest ways you could ever deem possible. 

The aftermath had not been pretty. Not for the boys, not for Remus, not for anyone involved and you had spent the better part of the last two weeks with your boyfriend, almost hiding away from the world. 

And now, you were doing what you needed to be done even if the rage inside you was still very much alive and burning.

“I didn’t mean to upset him,” Sirius spoke up eventually as he followed you down the empty corridor. You hadn’t said much to him or any of the boys in the last two weeks, so when you stormed into the Gryffindor common room and told them to follow you, they listened without question. “It was just meant to be—” 

You whirled around, the anger in your eyes clear and evident. “I don’t care what it was meant to be, Sirius. It was fucking stupid.”

James’ eyes widened at the curse word. “We know—”

“And yet you still did it,” you snapped back, your hands clenched into fists at your side. “You knew what you did and you still did it.”

Peter cleared his throat a little as though he was going to speak, but one look from you had him quickly taking a step back to hide behind Sirius. 

“I know what we did was wrong and stupid, trust me I know it’s wrong,” Sirius sighed, his jaw trembling a little as he tried to get the words out. “The guilt—”

“No,” you sneered, pointing your finger at him and shaking your head. “You don’t get to use that word. Not at all.” 

Sirius opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“You know very well how long it had taken Remus to let us in, let you in about his secret. You knew how big of a deal that was to him as he opened up to you about the very thing that made him the most vulnerable,” you gritted through clenched teeth, your finger poking his chest as you punctuated each point. “You knew how much he feared that he would become the monster that hurt him, that he would do to someone what was done to him and yet you still fucking went out of your way to put someone in that position—to put Remus in that position.” 

All three boys remained silent.

“That guilt would have killed him,” you croaked, your eyes tearing up as you let out a shaky breath. “But the thing is that no matter how mad and upset he is, I know what he needs is his friends. Even if they are the ones who made him feel this way.” 

“We want to be there for him,” James whispered.

“And you will be,” you said to him in a firm voice, glancing between the three boys. “You all will be, or so help me I will make you all regret the day you were born.”

“Thank you,” Sirius murmured but you shook your head.

“I’m doing this for Remus. Not you, Black. Now follow me.”

.

#remus lupin #marauders #harry potter #hp #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fic #remus lupin oneshot #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #marauders fic #marauders one shot #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter fic #harry potter oneshot #hp x reader #hp x you #hp x y/n #hp fic #hp one shot

[aajjks]

Puppy. (JJK)

synopsis. Jungkook should feel bad, but all he feels is satisfaction.

pairing: yan!best friend jungkook x fem!popular girl reader.

warnings. YANDERE, how to ruin a relationship 101 tutorial by jungkook, sabotaging a relationship, infidelity, obsessive thoughts.

disclaimer: DO NOT ROMANTICISE THIS BEHAVIOUR, this is fiction, this is not a healthy relationship. Keep in mind that this is purely fictional n I do not condone this behaviour irl.

Jungkook tries to not get too jealous when he sees you laughing or hanging out with other people than him.

He is your best friend but he gets insecure, so much that he has to calm down his irregular breathing while he hides away in a corner, his doe eyes constantly looking at your laughing face.

You are the most gorgeous person ever.

It’s astonishing to him that how nervous you get him despite knowing you for years, it’s hard for him to not be nervous around you.

You are just so perfect to him, and he’s just pathetic.

Jeon Jungkook is absolutely obsessed with his best friend of nine years.

He inhaled a breath in, closed his eyes and stops chewing at the insides of his cheek. “Okay jungkook…. Go to her.” He instructs himself.

He looks back to you once more when he opens his eyes, and smiles while walking out of the corner, holding the backpack as he calls out your name.

“Y/N!!” You look in his direction and Jungkook feels his heart flutter in his chest, the girls standing along you stop talking or blabbing as he’d like to say.

“Oh look Y/N your puppy’s here!” One of the girl laughs and Jungkook feels his cheeks tighten.

He’d be annoyed but it wasn’t a lie. He was your puppy. He looks at you, his eyes fixated. “Girls….” You roll your eyes as you scold them in a gentle way.

Oh you were just so sweet.

“Hey kook! I think we have the same class today?” You move your lips so elegantly, his eyes follow the moment of your mouth, his own falls open but he licks his bottom lip.

“A-Ah yes! It’s calculus.”

“Cool. It’s almost time… God I hate- “I know you hate it Y/N…. Don’t worry I’ll help you!”

Your friend whispers ‘puppy’ but Jungkook really doesn’t mind. You close your lips and give him a kind smile.

Oh, he’s gonna explode!! You do things to his heart.

Before him and you can say anything? Jungkook sees a guy walking in your direction. His knuckles tighten.

Jungkook hates him!

“Babe!!!” You shriek.

Fuck him!

“Oh hey man!” Jungkook suddenly chimes in before he can hug you or get any more closer to you. “I saw you yesterday at the coffee shop? Did you like it there? It’s my favourite place!”

You furrow your brows as you glance at your boyfriend who’s expressions waver, his eyes filling with confusion and something else.

“A-Ah yea it was pretty good…” he stutters but Jungkook forces his smile.

“And the chocolate cake? Y/N did you like it?” Jungkook looks at you again, biting his lip to contain the smirk that threatens to spread all over his face.

“Umm what? What cake?” Your pretty E/C eyes fill with utter confusion.

oh here comes the best part!

“Oh? I saw you with Jaesung yesterday at the shop but I didn’t want to disturb so I left.”

“But I wasn’t there with him?”

“Umm I think he’s mistaken babe! I-I was alone?” Jaesung blinks,

your friends watch you with suspicious eyes and you look at jungkook with even more confusion.

“Oh? I saw a girl with same hair colour as Y/N…. You even kissed her across the table, but I could be wrong I guess?” Jungkook shrugs, playing innocent.

Your girls gasp. “Yeah we hung out together?”

Perfect!

“Anyways Y/N… the bell just r- NO SHUT UP JUNGKOOK. let me talk to Jae, FUCK CALCULUS!”

You seethed. Jungkook pretended to get embarrassed.

“N-No babe! H-He must be mistaken I’m telling you!”

“Okay then I’d better leave….”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for anyone’s reply, he hears you screaming and your boyfriend stuttering, he walks away.

It hurts him a lot to see you like this, but that asshole? Jungkook will make sure he regrets being born.

This is the least he deserves for being unfaithful to you. That guy doesn’t deserve you. If only you saw it coming.

But Jungkook will always be there for you, because he’s your best friend, and best friends are always there for you right?

And he is a loyal puppy, your puppy.

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #bts smut #bangtan smut #yandere x reader #jungkook ff #jungkook fanfic #bts ff #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #yandere smut #yandere lemon

[bonefall]

but what makes characters like fallenleaf and bb!brokenstar redeemable?

Choice. They were stripped of their power, put through extreme circumstances, and then made the choice to leave their violent histories behind them.

And you will note that it's VERY rare that I show these types of characters being redeemed. There's two 'redemptions' in a very long history of tyrants. Tigerstar, Dalestar, Skystar, Ashfur, Darktail, One Eye, Leopardstar, Mudclaw, Thistlestar technically if he had become leader. 2 out of 10 is a very small ratio.

(and fallenleaf isn't really 'redeemed' in my mind, so much as she simply stopped being a tyrant. There is no way for her to ever make up for what she did and that is a part of her character.)

And of them, Skystar is the worst individual. By far. He has no reason to want to change, nor would he ever. He loves power too much. He would look for it anywhere he went, because he hates listening to anyone tell him what to do. Having this is important to him than anything.

BB!Brokenstar is so different he's not a great comparison to Skystar, imo. He's a protector spirit, the embodiment of SkyClan's fallen 5th oak tree, and basically the logical conclusion of the "might makes right" mindset that defines Clan Culture in his era. So his redemption in finding his place as SkyClan's guardian is basically about "righting a cosmic wrong," and putting the magic to rest in its rightful place.

Brokey's a mortal when he takes the shape of one, but the story I'm trying to tell with him is that fury, righteous love, and protectiveness have their place. He comes to understand that as he watches SkyClan form, and realize that no matter how different they are from the toxic culture he was born into and molded by, he loves them, and he needs them to become what they want to be.

THIS is what that fury is for. To kill the rats and defend the besieged Clan, so they can live freely while he slumbers.

Fallenleaf's a better comparison. Both she and Skystar wanted to forcefully remake society in their own images, and would brutalize anyone who didn't live up to their strict standards.

(contrast to BB!Brokenstar who strategically took out only two cats. Raggedstar and Marigoldkit. He actually limited violence against his own Clan.)

But Fallenleaf and Skystar are very different people. Fallenleaf did what she did out of strict, obsessive dedication to the Code. She was fueled by what she'd been taught by Bramblestar, allowing Ashfur to physically abuse Lionpaw "for his own good." That you have to hurt what you love to protect it.

Still; I very much made it intentional that her punishment is SO harsh. The Lake cats HATED her. She ruined everything and she knows it. Sol gets bored of her, steals her body, and leaves her stranded 100 years in the past. She's forced to stay in those tunnels and cling to the mortal plane, just thinking about her family to keep her tethered, as civilizations rise and fall outside.

Now back in her home, she's almost unrecognizable. She's traveled so far and lost so much, and been forced to sit with her shame for a very long time. Not even StarClan is old enough to remember her crimes; and it's she alone who carries that burden. It's a weight she chooses to carry, to remind her of the worst version of herself. Something she could become again, if she isn't careful.

BB!Skystar's a venerated founder.

Nearly everything he did in life was to serve his own ends, his own ego, and he's lauded for that. His followers ate up his excuses like slop. He built the battle culture the Clans would come to know, by making a move to crush anything that mildly offended him

Of course he's not going to regret shit. Power gets him everything he wants. He's got a circling entourage of sycophants to tell him how smart and strong he is all the time, droves of warriors who pray to him for strength in battle, all of his enemies in life are now forced to treat him like a god-among-gods in heaven. And this is exactly the way he likes it.

Man got away with it, over and over. He collects his reward every starry night.

Any time where he WOULD be threatened with having his power taken away, he would simply gaslight/gatekeep/girlboss his way back to the top. What? You gonna stop him? He will kill you and then frame your murder like a grand triumph over the Great Unfairness of the world. He has the most prey in the forest. He has the strongest cats in the land. What are you, to him, besides an angry squirrel chattering atop the branch?

Why would he ever choose to be different? He wouldn't. Power gets him what he wants, and he loves getting what he wants.

#bone babble #better bones au

[itslenagain]

"the love of a good woman changes you."

I don't often think about my father at all, but right now I am thinking about something he said once.

He was drunk and intentionally trying to get on my mother's nerves by talking about the woman he dated before her; the woman who helped him get off of drugs and finish high school, but ultimately left him. He'd talk about how she was kind but also firm, beautiful in a unique way, wise beyond her years. He'd lament about how he was young and stupid and regretted fucking it up. And then, he'd say to nobody in particular, "you know, the love of a good woman changes you." My mother rolled her eyes and puffed away at another one of those menthol cigarettes she liked.

I thought this whole idea was incredibly misogynistic. Why put that kind of pressure on a woman? Why is it her responsibility to change you? What even is a "good woman?" I was 12 (and hadn't figured out my gender and sexuality yet) and I was imagining myself snarling at the man who'd look up at me over the rim of a bottle and demand I fix him.

When I got a little older, I dated men. I dated a mess of a man whose scars were eerily similar to mine, who called me a "good woman" but still would cheat then break up with me the night before my high school graduation. I dated a man who drank gluten-free beer and had PTSD-fueled nightmares about car wrecks and didn't think 18 and 23 was too wide of an age gap since we were both in college, who told me he was ready to settle down and have a family, but then quickly changed his mind when he realized what that meant. I dated (and married, then divorced) a man who at 26 had never even kissed someone before and believed God brought him my 19 year old, fresh-out-of-inpatient-psych self so that he could have a good Christian family that would make his "born again" pastor father proud.

I didn't snarl at any of them. I should have. Maybe even done worse. (Or maybe snarled at myself for having bad taste)

13 years after dad told me about Gladys and the love of a good woman, at 25 I figured out I'd never be a "good woman," because I'm not a woman. 2 years after that, at 27 I figured out I didn't love men. I felt free. I'd never have to be the "good woman" that fixes a man with my love, I'd never again have to waste myself on some boy who couldn't take responsibility of his own damn problems.

And then, well, I found myself in love with a woman.

Nothing could have adequately prepared me for what it feels like to love and be loved by a woman. The way she looks at me is utterly devastating. It's like she sees me as something so incredibly special that I start to believe that maybe she's right. The world melts away when I'm with her. In my universe, I want to make her my sun and let all the other pieces fall into place around her. She's intelligent, she's sincere, sometimes stubborn, always nerdy, and I can't get enough. I didn't know it was possible to feel this way about anyone.

And, curiously, I find myself thinking of my father's words in a different light.

You see, I am a mess. I have trauma and baggage and more bad habits than you could count. I like to cause myself suffering. I trade one bad coping mechanism for another in an endless cycle. I self-sabotage. I leave things that feel good behind and stay too long when it hurts. I didn't think I was worth fixing. I didn't think I deserved to be happy.

Being loved by her makes me think I could be wrong.

How can I hate what she holds so dear? How can I neglect the thing she treasures? When I sit here and think about it, my self-hatred unravels.

She makes me want to love myself.

It's foreign to me, a bizarre feeling that aches sometimes. I've hated myself for so long that I feel like I've forgotten how. Healing is a long, difficult journey that I used to shy away from. Sometimes I still want to turn back, but these days, the steps fall more easily.

I still don't believe in a "good woman." This is an impossible standard set by an alcoholic man who hit my mother in front of me, maybe even an idealized fantasy about something unobtainable. The connotations of it feel disgustingly sexist.

And honestly, I don't think it even needs to be a "woman." Being truly loved by anyone, that is a life-changing experience. Not because they change you, but because knowing what it is to be loved, that's the thing that changes you.

She can't fix me. Nobody can really fix you. Nobody should feel like they have to fix you. But she makes me feel like I'm worthy. She makes me feel like it's worth it to try to fix myself. Her love makes me feel significant. I hope one day I'll feel that way on my own, like I'm worth it even if the unthinkable happens and we find ourselves on different orbits. With time, I think I will.

She's not the hand guiding (or dragging) me through the myres of my trauma, she's not the builder repairing my crumbling house. It's more like... the forest I'm lost in isn't so dark anymore, she's a lamplight illuminating it so I can see the way, so I can choose the path I take. My healing is not her responsibility, it's mine, but she inspires me to want to do it.

Love changes you, but maybe it's not because another person does that for you.

It's something you choose for yourself, because you are loved.

#forever bragging about my girlfriend because she's incredible and I can't (won't) shut up about it #healing is so fucking weird yall #but im still here #im starting to feel like its worth it no matter what the future holds #and honestly thats kind of terrifying... in a good way #lesbian #lgbtqia+ #sapphic #writing #healing #self love #love #i love her #i love me so much #trauma #my story

[djbeatz]

I Call That Bravery

So, if you read the beginning note of my most recent Ao3 post, then you’ll know that I’ve recently got into Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood. I haven’t watched 03 yet, but I will when I have time.

Anyway, I wanted to talk about General Armstrong’s perception of Major Armstrong. I’ll be using their first names so it isn’t as confusing. Their names are Olivier and Alex respectively just as a reminder.

(Anime Spoilers under the cut)

This is something I’ve talked about with @djcarnationsblog mostly. But it’s about how Olivier thinks of her brother. It’s quite obvious that she looks down on him 99% of the time and thinks of him as someone lowly. She thinks he’s a coward because of what he did in the Ishvalan war.

Alex had not become a soldier to kill innocent people, he didn’t sign up to be a murder. He only wanted to protect his country and so, to me it makes sense that he would refuse to do any such thing in the war. He knew what they were doing was wrong and he wouldn’t stand for it. This caused him to become useless in the war and therefore discharged.

Obviously, Olivier is the more stone hearted of the two. She is stronger in body and mind, so doing things like that in a war would not phase her as much as they did Alex. Though I don’t think she started out so tough, not for any particular reason besides the fact that people aren’t just born with hardened hearts.

Her strength of will kind of reminds me of the others who had been in the Ishvalan war. They do regret the things that they had done and wish to atone for it, but it didn’t make them any less hard hearted.

With that in mind. It makes sense to me why Olivier believes him to be a coward. It is quite cowardly to run from your duty as a soldier.

But I don’t think specifically what he did and why was cowardly. I think it was pretty brave.

Alex ran from the battlefield not necessarily to save his skin, but to save his mind. He did not allow himself to be in that war because it was not something he stood for. What he was protecting was his mind.

He was protecting himself by not giving the war the chance to change his moral code or who he was as a person, even at the cost of having to turn his back on his allies, and essentially part of his country.

Signing up to be a soldier and actually being a soldier are two very different things. Becoming a soldier is like selling your body and your soul to an organized unit that has every say over you and your autonomy. If they punish you with demoting, firing or death, you don’t have a say in it.

The fact that Alex took the initiative to save himself speaks volumes. Especially when others did not take that chance, nor did they even see it.

Of course, I don’t think it was his true intention to be discharged from the war, he only intended not to kill anyone with his bare hands because above everything, he seems to cherish humanity. And he still saw these people as humans rather than a job he may or may not complete. 

Alex is like the epitome of love for humanity, and I think that’s something that isn’t talked about a lot, and it’s also something I wish Olivier could see.

What she sees is her coward of a brother. In truth, he’s one of the bravest people for having the resolve to put himself first when he’s clearly a very selfless person.

But my question is why she doesn’t see that. I know she isn’t a shallow person in the slightest, but she seems to be looking much too surfacely on the matter. Alex, also is clearly not a coward in any sense of the word, he throws himself into situations just because he believes he can try and help, even if it isn’t a guarantee, he still tries, which you could kind of compare it to an Elric brother kind of crazy just minus the chaos. 

Well, I think I’ve rambled enough on this topic. I just had to get it out of my system really. But depending on what my mind focuses on next, you might see me talk a bit more about Fmab!

Really, the only thing making me write these little rambles is the thought coming to my head, getting on Tumblr and winging shit, connecting it as I go.

As protocol, you really shouldn’t believe anything I say, these are mostly for fun. And if this doesn’t make sense, I’m really sorry. But I’ll be opening my ask box soon so if anyone wants clarifications on anything or simply want to ask questions and bring some of this stuff to my attention, then you can feel free to say whatever you want when I’ve got it up!

#fmab #alex armstrong #olivier armstrong #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #more rambles #it's been a time since I've done one of these #but yeah i'll be opening my ask box soon #maybe this or next week #fmab spoilers

[b00inazkaban]

Darkest Days:

Chapter 1: Alone

She had called them...

Ruby. Ruby the stray, why'd you just have trust her, now the league was coming. You loved chubs he was one of your best friends but you couldn't go with the league they are untrustworthy people who'd sell you off at the last minute if it ment they would make it out with only a slap of the wrist. The moment ruby had held down that tracker and told you what it was you knew what would happen if you went with them, so you stood up grabbing your bag with this look of sorrow and regret even if you haven't done anything wrong it was like your body knew what you were going to do before you'd even thought of it.

"I-Ruby...what have you done they aren't safe people. I can't stay I have to leave..." you tried to process what was going on but Liam just looked up at you with understanding look in his eyes. You knew why he wanted to stay but your gut was telling you nothing would be alright now or after this.

"Wait, sit back down, it'll be alright we'll get help and get to safety" Ruby tried to pled with you

"No...no you've gotta be fucking joking me right now Ruby---Liam y-you know what the League is like, what they've done and you will still sit here and go with them? WHAT THE FUCK LIAM!? Get up please Liam, you can't possibly go with them!" You started off trying to convince them or at least Liam otherwise but it was no use he had made up his mind at this point, and it sure as hell wasn't gonna stop you from tearing up, you didn't want to stay for the outcome of it all. It was like your feet were on auto piolet slowly taking steps back, but you heard cars zeroing in on your location in the distance so you quickly shifted on your heel, running into the woods not caring where you went just not the enemy--not with the league--not with ruby. Tears sprung from your eyes fogging your vision, you didn't care, tears could drip form your cheeks as long as they'd like if they didn't cause you to trip or hit something. Your breathing labored as you ran, slowing down and just completely collapsing against a tree letting your sobs out into your knees. The day was just born, you had to find supplies, somewhere to use for shelter and a hiding spot, you may not have been scared of what was outside but  you were sure as hell scared to be alone without your people with you. You had been walking for a few miles already when you came across your first gas station. You went in and saw a bag on the messy floor and shelves half stocked with products, you grabbed the bagged and poured the contents out, it was full of clothes and some random personal items but you grabbed a plain white camisole, light blue long sleeve button up jacket, jeans, and a baseball cap. Then, you quickly changed and took the bag you found and shoved food you needed from the shelves into it. Then you went behind the counter and grabbed packs of Marlboro cigarettes and lighters and shoved those into the bag as well.

'Well my food situation is taken care of, now all I need to do is go and try to find that motel we stayed at before and I could live there.' you thought to yourself after heading out the back door you walked into the woods heading down the same way the road is going. You couldn't risk going onto the actual road because yes people are in the cities now but most days some cars through town, wither its tracers, company trucks, or people making their way to another city. But no matter who it was you couldn't risk being spotted, they'd bring you back to a camp in an instant. Of course with you telekinesis powers you could kill them but you had morals, and you saw no real reason to hurt anyone in cold blood. But you had been walking for hours and still hadn't arrived to the motel you knew it was close but you'd ran out of hours in the day. You decided to find a tree that you could climb and sleep in for the night so you could continue getting to the motel when you were in better mind and well rested. As you drifted to sleep you thought about tomorrow, your future, your so called friends and what the league has or will do to them.

Yay I've done chapter 1! I would've had it out a week ago but I was on vacation and didn't have internet for the whole week.

#b00inazkaban #fanfiction #darkest minds #darkest minds x reader

[whispersinthedawn]

College of Nightmares Part 2

“We thought Greek demigods died,” Ms Admete blurted out abruptly. “Greeks died and Romans retired to live out the rest of their lives in obscurity, one too powerful to survive and the other too powerless to remark on.”

Percy eyed her suspiciously. The statement seemed ripe for a rejoinder of ‘But you were wrong.’

Ms Admete voiced the criticism herself.

“But they don’t die or lead ignoble lives,” the woman continued, words spilling out of her as if water steadily widening the crack in the wall of a dam, determined to escape now that it had seen the exit.

“Monsters chase the Greeks, harry them, torture them until the stars blend into headlights and safety and danger are the same – and then they find themselves in front of someone who’ll keep them safe, who’ll teach them to defend themselves, and most importantly, who’ll allow them to pass on this gift of life unburdened by murderous monsters to another.”

It seemed a heartwarming prospect indeed – if the monsters and the saviours weren’t working in concert, if protection and destruction weren’t wrapped together in one cunning package.

“And the Romans?” Percy whispered.

The smile on Ms Admete’s face was bitterness incarnate. “You wouldn’t know,” she said with aching gentleness, with a bittersweet empathy that held nothing but an awareness of her own culpability – and how she herself was a victim of the same injustice. “The pain of being forgotten, the knowledge that everything you are is worth nothing more than a postscript in someone else’s fable.”

And still that bitter smile, as if Ms Admete knew it wasn’t enough, that no number of explanations could excuse the impending tragedy.

“To devote your whole life to the fulfilment of your purpose, only to realise that all your accomplishments just serve to relegate you to the side of everything. And it’s not as if you desire accolades or rewards for doing your duty,” Ms Admete insisted, as if wanting to make sure Percy understood, and didn’t misinterpret her grievances as something petty and born of a jealous mind.

Percy bit her lip, unable to make herself say anything.

“But acknowledgement – is that too much to ask for?” Ms Admete sighed, a plea in every inch of her body.

“A sympathetic voice, someone who understands and wants to help, who can bless you with the light of glorious purpose. Is that what was offered to the Romans?” Percy whispered. To you?

Were they still talking about the Titans? The budding power roiling underneath the seeming utopia of Olympus? Or had they moved on to the seething wreck of Gaea and her decade-long plans to subvert both the Olympians and the Titans?

Or something else altogether?

Ms Admete looked at her apologetically. “Perhaps. It certainly seemed that way, though I have no doubt most learnt, if too late, to regret attracting that kind of attention.”

But after a while, you fell in too deep, and escape meant a complete break that you could seldom gain without shattering your life into too many shards of sharp glass. Sometimes, you veered deeper and deeper until you were learning to poke out eyes from your fellow delinquents, until you were learning to flirt and cheat at cards until just the thought of anyone accepting your never-meant overtures terrified you into belligerency.

Sometimes, escape meant killing your chain and the home it was attached to, and cutting off the neck it was tied around for good measure.

(Percy had expected prison. Percy had expected staving off the police just long enough to gather the essentials and then plunging deep into the labyrinth of dark streets and apartments abandoned only during the day, and corners and alcoves that reeked of spoiling waste and lives mouldering in the spray of a river.

Percy had killed Gabe and expected to jump into the river and hide until everyone gave her up for dead.)

“Who is it?” Percy whispered. “Who frightens you so much you dare not even spell out their name?”

Ms Admete released a half-sob which she promptly stifled by pressing a fist to her mouth. “Spell it out? Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus. That’s his name – does it help? Do you recognise him?”

No, she didn’t. But she didn’t need to, did she?

Who’s that? Percy sent out into the ether – or the polar waters that comprised her mind.

Someone Roman, Perce replied.

Someone powerful and ancient, considering the university is a century and a half old and you need a lot of money for that, Per added.

Someone in the employ of the Roman Emperors, then, since all seems to come back to them? Medea offered up half-heartedly.

Nero, Perse concluded grimly.

***

Read on Ao3

#pjo #fanfiction #percy jackson #fem percy #first day of college #gone terribly wrong #drowning on dry land #nero #greek demigods #roman demigods #admete #sending monsters after someone just to rescue them

[thestarstho]

PLS TALK ABOUT YOUR BEEF WITH MRS. BUSH I WANNA HEAR IT

Okay, I have some thoughts about her. My main beef with her is her parenting, and her mean ass attitude.

But

I have this headcanon that her mother grew up poor and worked crazy hard to overcome it, as well as marrying someone who came from money. But Cynthia's mom grew to be resentful and embarrassed of her past, so she looked down on anyone in the lower class. She acted a lot like how Cynthia acts towards the Belchers. Cynthia knows how her mother grew up, and decided early on that she'd follow in her mother's footsteps. She'd gotten used to the lifestyle, and was taught that poor people are bad, which is why she is the way she is.

But it of course goes deeper than that. Cynthia had always looked up to her mom, she came from nothing, and got to where she was when Cynthia was born. So if her mom looked down on the poor, she could never let herself slip. It's not that she was particularly close to her mom, but she craved her approval. In Cynthia's eyes she was this strong and powerful woman, so if she was anything less than strong and powerful too, she was a disappointment. But, of course she never realizes her mother's power came from her overcoming adversity. This is why Cynthia is so bossy, even demanding, she thinks that it's power.

Then she meets Tom. A nice handsome guy, just got out of med school. He fit right into her picture. They date an appropriate amount of time. He's easily persuaded, that makes her feel strangely validated. She likes him, and eventually she actually loves him. They get married and have Logan soon after.

Logan is a problem. She loves her son, of course she does. But she doesn't get him. When she was a teenager, she did everything to get her mother's approval, and he doesn't care to try to get hers. Her power is slipping. She's slipping. Losing power. Losing control. Shes not used to that. It makes her feel panicked and irrational, she does and says things that are mean. She regrets it everytime, but is too proud to admit she's wrong. Things are tense.

Okay so I was possessed and wrote this. I've been thinking about it for a bit, but when I started typing I couldn't stop until this all came out. Cynthia could benefit from therapy and stop being mean. I like how she is used in the show, and I think she's fun to watch. Even her bitchiness is fun to watch, and all the characters have their bitchy moments, and I love them. My main problem is that she parents for herself and not for her kid.

#...i just got a fic idea

[mihrsuri]

Headcanons about how Henry and Anne convinced Thomas that they wanted to have his child. Because I imagine that must have been a Process. Did they worry if anyone would ever find out? Did they have contingency plans?

Doylistically it was because I was like ‘….I want that to happen’ *g* Watsonially I actually have no idea, in universe how they convinced Thomas - because Thomas would never…he would feel he was being utterly selfish, wrong, risking everything etc.

Anne actually did perform a risk analysis - she looked at the similarities in looks between her and Thomas, even the similarities between them and some of The Tudors (I’m assuming portraits existed) and looked at the fact that she and Henry share a bed every night, Henry is very much known to be possessive and not into sharing and wants his dynasty to continue so there’s no way he’d ever accept a “cuckold in the nest” and is like Fuck Society I Want Both My Husbands Babies (as a treat). She and Henry both also want to prove to Thomas that he is their spouse in all ways and as equally as they both are.

Also the idea of a triad is just…Not A Thing That Would Ever Occur.

Also she and Henry really really want kids with Thomas.

Thomas’ contingency plan is ‘make myself the villain of the story’ (I don’t know how exactly but if anyone could pull that off and honestly there’s a world were Mary etc is like ‘she was the victim of this horrible man this is awful :///‘)

Anne’s is Fuck That We Fake Our Deaths Actually.

Henry’s is Fuck That I’m The King No One Is Contradicting Me. (Which tbf is…not wrong).

Anne probably is like ‘Thomas You Are Allowed To Want This It’s Not Selfish Or Horrible It’s Right’ (Henry is even more adamant frankly).

Henry did not worry. See above. Anne did, somewhat but also looked at everything and figured it was very very low chance.

Thomas absolutely worried. Actually he may have been persuaded due to wanting to make his spouses happy and then when George was born he just…could not regret it.

#ot3: political power trio #fic #tudors ot3 verse reference #lil and her ridiculous aus #headcanon meme

[kadythethief]

new mc just dropped. in my head. future avatar of kneecaps. she/her, maybe they/them too, idk???, yandere, she never really came back right after ch 18 😔

i think im gonna name them nancy. also their formal demon attire.

i'd like to draw their demon form, tail and everything some time, but tbh idk when that'll be.

they rly be stuck in my head so i'll be listing some notes! if more come, i'll probably go edit this post later

very positive, happy-go-lucky like how mammon said in the earlier seasons??? mammon was probably her fav, but all that changed when the belphie attacked and ended her

she got better tho and the brothers moved on so she had to as well. only satan rly understood how she really felt but when he asked her about it, she said she was fine! satan would come to regret it later for leaving it at that.

belphie had changed his mind about nancy and loves her now! nancy returned those feelings strongly, to the point of basically discarding poor mammon which belphie was very smug about, very bratty, you know how it goes. regrets it later when it turns out, the relationship comes with a routine timeout from his kneecaps.

eventually they die, basically bc something happened and belphie looked to nancy like he was gonna die or at least get seriously injured so she threw herself in front of the threat and- ded!

belphie was extremely shocked and surprised and felt somewhat bad that he also felt relief.

when they came back, as an avatar, it was to some dread of the brothers, considering she spent most of her last months torturing belphie, removing his kneecaps on a routine basis, and using the pacts to order the brothers not to tell anyone.

diavolo announced their new status of avatar of despair, unfortunately it didn't register to nancy. dying the first time was bad enough, the second time didn't feel any better. so they convinced themselves of being the avatar of kneecaps now, their favorite hobby in life, and now after-death!

and oops! it turns out, the pacts do remain even if you die and get re-born as a demon!

makes belphie call her master in their sessions

relationship:

they are best friends with solomon btw, but her hobby is a secret. no one outside of the hol knows about it. she'd be terrified if solomon found out because she thinks he'd be mad at her and dislike her and she doesn't want him mad at her.

except thirteen probably knows. or at least suspects something is up. at the least she knows something is wrong with the human, but she doesn't understand what. so it can't be important. it's not like she would mind. she likes nancy for being a lil crazy.

petit body type, probably from iceland,

asmo was scared at first, but he doesn't care later. it's not his kneecaps that are vanished routinely. doesn't like to see and avoids his brother when he is in timeout, cause it's ick.

levi is scared

fav color: yellow

fav music: SIX

#obey me #avatar of kneecaps #avatar of despair #obey me nancy #obey me mc #obey me mc nancy

[linklethehistorian]

🤗

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

Oh gosh, a lot of things, really; in fact, there are so many things I could say that I’ll probably miss a few along the way as I’m writing this, and have to add to it in reblogs in the future.

For now, though, let’s see…

(Full answer under the cut for length)

1. Ignore the naysayers.

I know, I know — this advice probably sounds cliché and basic as fuck, but hear me out.

One of the most important things I ever started to learn as a writer — and still continue to do so in new and crucial ways, as time marches on and I gain more experience — was the value of not giving a shit about the naysayers.

When I was younger, I used to let the criticism of everyone — both constructive and destructive — live rent free in my head all day, every day, and obsess over making sure that my works were always as picture-perfect, innocent, and problem-free as anyone else told me they should be.

It was the biggest mistake I ever made, it made my life and my hobby a living hell, and looking back, it is the one thing I genuinely and thoroughly regret the most about any of my older works.

To explain this in better detail, here’s a little story-time for you:

When I was little, I would always have my Aunt telling me, “You shouldn’t write stories that are so dark, and [series I was writing for] isn’t meant to be so dark and ugly.” or, “It’s not healthy; there’s something wrong with you if you like writing things like this. You must enjoy things being hurt because then you get to feel good about helping and protecting them. It’s sick; you’re like those disgusting mothers who poison their kids so they can get pity and attention from it.” So, I would hesitate to write any major level of angst in my stories from that point forward.

Then, when I wrote a somewhat less “dark” story, she would tell me, for example, “No. You can’t have the Mom be in the wrong for what she did in this story. She was just looking out for her kid, and right to stop him from making friends. The kid is in the wrong and he needs to pay the consequences of his actions. Rewrite it.” So, I started re-writing it, but then quickly lost my passion and eventually abandoned it completely.

After that, I would eventually try to write a story for a different fandom — a book I loved dearly — and she told me, “Oh god, not that. That story is so stupid; you’re too old to like that, anyway.” Depressed and feeling stupid for ever even wanting to write it, I then abandoned that idea, too, before I’d even gotten past the first page.

If I tried to write multiple stories at once, swapping between them whenever I had writer’s block on the other, she would tell me, “Write one story at a time! Real authors don’t do that!” And if I complimented something in a book I read, saying that “as a writer myself, I really enjoy this”, she would quickly snap, “you’re not a real writer.” As a result, I stopped writing multiple books, even if I had the inspiration for them, and for a long time, I stopped daring to even call myself a writer.

Because I listened to someone who wanted to control and ensure that whatever I wrote would stay purely to her personal tastes, values, and interests, I let so many ideas that could have been born into the world die before they’d even taken their first breath and allowed myself to stay feeling inadequate and irrelevant. Would some of them have sucked? Would most of them have been cringe in some shape or form? Yes. I’m sure they would. But…I would rather have had those sucky, cringy books exist than to never get to see what I would have created — to never get to find the bits of good and overall interesting premises that yes, would also have come to be through each and every one of them.

I can never stress this enough, but please, new fanfic writers and even just writers in general: DON’T be like young me; don’t listen to the naysayers in your life who tell you that you shouldn’t write whatever the hell you want, however the hell you want, and whenever the hell you want. Do not let them get in your headspace over anything.

The thing you need to know about these people who tell you that what you want to write is “problematic”, “boring”, “uncreative”, or “cringe” in some way, and that you shouldn’t do it for your own good and reputation, is that they are all just like my Aunt: that is to say, they do not genuinely care about you or what is in your best interest — they are not genuinely trying to protect you or steer you on the right, most healthy path. Yes, they may claim that they do care and want the best for you, and to some extent, they may even think that they do, but at the end of the day, when push comes to shove, what they really want most is just to control you, so that they can stop you from creating content that they dislike and don’t want to have to see. Thus, rather than doing the actually healthy thing by learning to curate their own experiences in life and teach those around them that it is fundamentally okay to not share the same interests and opinions with everyone around you, they choose to guilt trip you and manipulate you into believing you are the one who is in the wrong, and who needs to be re-educated to recognize the dangerous non-conformists who may look like they are just minding their own business and hurting no one, but are definitely abusing and/or encouraging abuse to real live people and animals behind the scenes. (Because they write about the topic, so it must mean they commit or at least condone these things in real life, too, right? /sarcasm)

I promise you that these kinds of people and their moral grandstanding over things that aren’t even real in this world is far more harmful and genuinely problematic than anything fictional you could ever imagine and write or draw, and that if you went to an actual, licensed therapist and asked them their opinion on the matter, they would undoubtedly confirm that with no hesitation.

It may seem harmless on the outside to give in to one of their demands — that it’s not worth the fight, but I promise you, if you give them an inch, they’ll take a mile. It will keep extending further and further from one thing to the next until there is basically no longer anything you are “allowed” to write or draw that isn’t one or two universally accepted “completely healthy” pairings, in “completely healthy and happy, ideal” settings, in which nothing even remotely bad or mildly disquieting ever happens or is said — if you can even do that.

And this applies to more than just tropes, genres, characters, ships, plots, or what have you — these controlling people will exist about other things, too, and they must be ignored the same.

There will be people out there who will tell you that fanfic writing isn’t as good, fulfilling or creative as writing original works. It is bullshit — bullshit that, if not based on an intentional desire to control and manipulate your actions, is at the very least born of the incorrect and extremely biased belief that fanfic writing doesn’t count as “real writing”; ignore it, and do not feel pushed to create wholly original works if that is not what you already want for yourself and are passionate about.

There will be people out there who will give you so-called “writing advice” which tells you that you must never do a certain thing (such as using a certain phrase, perspective, or writing style) regardless of circumstance, and that if you do, that’s automatically a negative thing and makes you unprofessional and a bad or fake writer; ignore them the same. The reality is that many famous beloved authors of the world have either intentionally or unintentionally ignored certain so-called “rules” of writing and are still enjoyed and loved all the same — and sometimes even all the more because of that particular, unique, characteristic ‘style’ they created in doing so.

Constructive criticism can be great and help you grow leaps and bounds on your journey, but that’s the key thing about it; it has to be constructive, and furthermore, what may be typically considered constructive for one person may not be for another. If something is negatively effecting your headspace and making you more miserable and unhappy for having experienced it, that is not constructive — it is destructive, and you need to either find a way to make peace with it and be better for it, or cut it out of your life.

If you don’t want any criticism towards your writings, then try your best to communicate that nicely and outright to your readers; most nice communities (especially AO3) will largely accept that, and those that don’t can and should be blocked or ignored.

2. Realize that someday, you are probably going to look back at your old works and think that they are very cringe, and that that is perfectly okay. Remember how I said “ignore the naysayers”? Well, that applies to you, too; remember that you are almost always your own worst critic, and that if you let that hold you back, you will miss out on a lot of good things and experiences in life, too, as well as depriving other people of that privilege through what you could create.

If there is something you want to write, then write it; don’t sit back and overthink all of the potential negatives to doing so until you’ve talked yourself out of the idea, and it never comes to be.

Yes, it is very likely that someday all of the fics you are writing now — even the ones you love the absolute most — someday will be things you will look back on and, in some manner or form, think are “cringe”, but that is okay. It is okay even if you think it is cringe now; don’t be afraid of being ‘cringe’. Cringe culture is dead, as it rightfully should be, and you don’t need to try to resurrect it out of guilt or self-depreciation.

Not only is it a sign of growth for you as a writer to be able to look back on something and say to yourself, “wow, that’s something I would never do if I wrote this today”, but it’s also important to remember that just because something may be cringe or outdated to you and your current style, that doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone else to whom that very creation means the world or massively brightens their day.

Don’t delete your old works. Don’t prevent yourself from writing new ones by gaslighting yourself into believing they aren’t good or valid. Don’t hold yourself back from experimenting with new things that you may want to try just because it may turn out a disaster; that’s the only way to grow and learn. Don’t be afraid to be derivative or “uncreative” by writing something that’s just barely different from the source material, if that’s what you enjoy. Don’t be afraid to be repetitive by creating five thousand slight variations on the same story or trope; not only is that a valid thing to do, but there are also many people out there who are looking for exactly that.

All in all, just, don’t let you hold yourself back from something you genuinely want to do and will enjoy — in writing or drawing.

3. Don’t pay attention to the numbers. This can be a hard one to stick to, but it’s very important. All too often, we end up getting stuck comparing ourselves to others and the success that they have, instead of enjoying what’s right in front of us, and it’s not healthy or good — not for ourselves, and not even for others around us.

While it may be tempting to pick up the pen and try to write for a more popular series, trope, character, or pairing and rake in some of that sweet, sweet instant gratification with the big numbers, it’s important to remember that not only do those numbers not matter in the grand scheme of things, but also that nothing that is big and popular ever simply started out as being big and popular — and nothing else will ever have hope of joining that list of big and popular if you aren’t willing to take the first or another step in making it so.

That big ship you’re thinking of right now that gets all the kudos, comments, bookmarks, subscriptions, and hits that you wish your fic had? It didn’t start out that big. The most popular and successful fic of all in the biggest fandom you know? It didn’t start out as the most popular or successful; it started out just like your fic did when you first posted it, like your ship did when it first came into being by the first person to think of it. 

Things can only gain traction if they have people behind them, loving them, creating for them, and engaging with them, and every person who gives up on them because they’re not popular enough is one less chance that thing had at eventually becoming popular, just as that biggest ship or fic out there needs people who love it to keep engaging with it and standing by it in order for it to remain “the most popular”.

What you love desperately needs you, and you do make a difference for it; don’t turn your back on it and end up doing something that doesn’t make you happy — or at least that makes you less happy — just because it isn’t popular or doing the numbers right now. Someday it might be. Until then, be the change you want to see in the world.

The fic that I’ve written which I love the very most and have worked on the most and the longest is also the most obscure and niche one of them all — and yet, it did gain something of an audience of its own. It is beloved by more people than I ever anticipated it would be, because I didn’t give up on it — because I made it happen and dedicated myself to continuing that, and it can only grow more popular the longer that I do.

You can make your dreams come true, one step at a time. So don’t give up.

4. Write things based on what you love, not what you hate. Obviously, this is advice that requires nuance and extra consideration based on the individual situation, but as a general rule, I feel that this is a very overlooked and yet very valuable piece of advice for all sides of a given matter.

I’m not saying that is always wrong or even completely impossible to write about something you wholly and purely hate, and still have it come out a good and positive thing to put out into the world, but the trouble with writing about something you completely despise — or for which you even just plain feel nothing but a general dislike — is that it is very, very hard to remain unbiased in doing so, and therefore highly increases the chance that you will create an extremely negative misrepresentation of that thing in some way.

If you absolutely must write about something you hate, I strongly advise that you at least tag it as a hate fic and/or (preferably and) put a disclaimer before the fic stating outright that it is such, that you hate or dislike it, and that as a result you may not be capable of accurately representing that thing in every way.

As someone who has accidentally read fics of this nature before about something that I hold very dear, I can tell you firsthand that it is not the least bit enjoyable to go into the tags of your favorite ship or character and stumble upon an untagged, self-congratulating hate fic that pats itself on the back for how ‘accurate’ it is, with no regard or warning for people who actually love or at least enjoy the character or ship.

I, for example, never wrote a fic centered purely around Paul Verlaine and his character pre-Storm Bringer because, at the time, he was the character I just loved to hate; I had nothing good to say about him as an individual, and writing a fic about only him purely for the sake of shitting on him would have been an extremely terrible use of my time and energy, and of the time of people going into the tag for his character looking for nice, or at least accurate, representations of him. Now that I have a better understanding of him and can appreciate all aspects of him — not just the negative — I am happy to write about him, but, I would never write a fic just about Fukuchi in the present moment, because in that same vain as before, I have nothing positive or interesting or wholly true to contribute about him in his tag (not to mention I’m not really particularly interested in him to begin with).

All in all, while I’m not saying you can’t or shouldn’t do it if you’re willing to give the proper tags and disclaimers, I promise it’s really just not worth your time or energy, when you could be spending it instead on something you love.

And if you do write a hate fic and you don’t tag or at least give it a disclaimer, well, make sure that you at least state outright you don’t want constructive criticism, or else you shouldn’t be surprised if you end up with people who frequent those tags telling you that you’re not writing the character or ship accurately, because it will probably happen sooner or later.

5. Somewhat related to the end paragraphs of advices 1 and 4, don’t ask for constructive criticism if you don’t want it, and make it clear if you absolutely don’t. While most people — especially on AO3 — will not just submit criticism, constructive or otherwise, on a fic unless you make it absolutely clear that you actively want it, if you truly want to avoid having criticism submitted to your fic for any reason, it is best to state that you would prefer positive comments only (especially if your writing community is one that does leave criticism a lot), as it will save you a lot of trouble.  Likewise, if you do want more than the usual amount of criticism, you should feel free to ask for it, but please make sure that this is truly what you want, or else you may not like what you receive. 

I have encountered fic writers in the past who request, “please tell me what you honestly thought of the fic!”, only to then later delete any and all constructive criticism that their readers take the time to leave them. Please do not do this; it is a waste of time and energy not just for you, but for your commenters, as well. If you don’t want something, don’t communicate to others that you do.

6. Be as passionate as you want; don’t worry about being ‘normal’ about your interests. I know this is technically related to the third bit of advice, but seriously, what is normal is completely subjective to the individual and it is also completely overrated. Don’t sit stressing about if you act ‘normal’ or like something ‘a normal amount’; go crazy with it! Be over-ambitious about your creations and your interests! Make as much content as you want for it, spread it across all mediums if you desire! Make a music playlist that ties into it! Make a blog centered all around it! Post regular updates and exclusive content like it’s famous! I did all of this and more for one of my fics, and I’ve had the time of my life with it.

Embrace your inner overenthusiastic eccentric and have fun. That’s what hobbies and fandom are all about.

7. Be kind and supportive to yourself and others wherever you can, and mind your own business when you can’t. It’s unfortunate, but many times in life, when we get caught up in the rush of things and the height of excitement or negative emotions, we can forget to show kindness, love, and understanding to ourselves and to others. It’s important to remember to take a deep breath now and again, and consider those needs and feelings that we would otherwise ignore.  The schedules we sometimes create for ourselves are amazing, and they can help us keep on track, but they aren’t the end-all, be-all to writing and being a writer; don’t obsess over them and let them run your life or expect other writers to uphold them all of the time, either. Taking breaks for your mental, emotional, and physical health is so, so important and so necessary, and it’s something we all should be able to do judgement-free from time to time when we need it.

And furthermore, remember that just as you have your own interests, so do your other fellow writers in the world; sometimes they may move on and change fandoms, or have fictional interests that you don’t like or agree with. It’s important in those times to realize that that is okay, and that they are valid. It’s important to be able to say to yourself, “it’s not my business”, respect their right to do what they love, and move on to something that is your business and that you do love, yourself. Don’t harass or insult other writers in the heat of the moment over something that isn’t your business or they didn’t ask you to negatively comment on, and if somehow you do, make sure you apologize and learn from that mistake going forward.

Fandom is a big place, and there’s room in it for us all to co-exist and thrive.

—

Send me another emoji and I’ll tell you about myself as a fic writer.

#linklethehistorian #Thoughts #my thoughts #My writing #meme #fanfic emoji ask #fanfic writing meme #ask #ask game #anon #ily anon #thanks for the ask #writing #advice

[wolfxezra]

⚰. → tommy martinez   :  male  :  he/him  :   arsonist's lullaby by hozier  —  looks like ezra cruz has been driven to mystic falls. the 27-year-old werewolf is  known  for  being  open-minded on  a  good  day  and  stubborn  on  a  bad  day .  now that you mention it, when i think of them i think of the smell of pine trees and campfires, muddy boots (and paws), once a lonely teen with anger issues, drinking away his regrets. lets hope they enjoy small town mysic falls, whilst they still can. ( Lindsey ● 29 ● est ● she/her )

Ezra once had a loving home, a younger sister and two parents who loved them. They had a nice house in a small town in Arizona. He had a lot of friends and had dreams of being the star of the high school football team. He was your typical pre-teen, aside from being born into a family of werewolves of course.

What he and his family were was never a secret to him or his sister. Once they hit a certain age their parents were open about the family secret, making sure their kids knew they couldn’t tell anyone. Their mother had triggered her gene thanks to a horrible car accident when she was a teenager. His parents were always open and honest with him, one thing he loved most about them.

Ezra’s picture perfect life would soon crumble when he was just 14. One Friday night, he was grounded but snuck out to a party anyway. When he made it back home in the early morning hours he was met with flames and smoke that the local fire department was desperately trying to put out. No one made it out of that house alive.

Turns out the fire was started due to a candle being left burning too close to the curtains. A candle Ezra had left burning in his room to mask the smell of the weed had been smoking before sneaking out. Regret and anger overtook him. He had made a dumb decision, teenage rebellion, and it cost him everything.

He was sent to live with his aunt and uncle, but soon became a handful for them. He would sneak out pretty much daily and that was if he had gone home at all. He was getting into fights weekly with anyone who simply looked at him wrong. The once happy and hopeful teen was angry. Angry at himself and at the world. He was now going through the process of being a werewolf all on his own as his uncle had never triggered that gene.

Just when the rage was starting to be too much, Caroline had found him. She brought him back to the school, giving him a second chance. The few years he spent at the school did help him channel his anger in more appropriate ways, but he held onto the regret.

Ezra currently works as a bartender at the grill, he has a small apartment but frequently camps out in the woods. He’s a loner, with a very few select people he’ll talk to regularly.

#mayhemhq:intro

[falloutstasis]

Existing

Charlton Hotel

Venessa saw as Kelsey and MacCready headed off and out of the gates. She sighed, turning her heels to meet with a returning Danse, who came back from the repairing swimming pool room. Something he didn't mean to, he had startled Venessa.

"I'm sorry." He awkwardly said. "Uh, one of the workers out at the swimming pool room wanted your help."

"Oh!" She felt warm around her cheeks, showing that she was red on the face. Despite this, she smiled and nodded. "I'll be right there."

With that, Venessa accompanied Danse to the swimming pool area. It was on the same floor they were in, down the hall, then to their right at the end of the hall way.

"I have a question." Danse said. "Why does Kelsey call you Pluto?"

"Oh. I just like Pluto that's all. One day, Kelsey found this out and just started calling me Pluto." She laughed. "I guess I got it from the person who passed away to create me at the Institute."

Danse remained silent afterwards, once again reminded of the Institute's nasty's treatments. One minute you were alive and well, kicking rocks outside of a Brotherhood HQ at Washington, DC and the next minute you realize you not who you thought you were. You were everything you fought against and everything you hated. To say his life was turned upside down was an understatement.

Venessa thought it would be best to continue. "The person's name, who is the reason why I exist today, is named Leia Ames. She's a famous Astronomer who joined at the American Astronomical Society back at Washington D.C. When I went there thirteen years ago, the building was already destroyed. So I did what I could to collect some astrology books or other related space stuff to my collection in my room. To honor her in a way."

"Did you like studying astronomy?" He asked.

"I like it, but I like doing community stuff better."

Danse hummed. "I can tell. I always see you with other people either helping or planning."

She blushed even more and rubbed one side of her arms with her free arm. "My brain doesn't like it when I do nothing during the day. So...that's just how I operate."

There was a silent pause between the two. But after another moment, Venessa asked, "How are you holding up, Danse?"

"It's strange. These people, ghouls, synths they're all working together to make a living. And not just to survive. Just to help one another." There was a singe of pain in his eyes mixed with regret. "At first I was very uncomfortable working alongside them, but working with them for a few years now..." He paused, thinking what to say next.

"It's a nice change of pace, right?" Venessa smiled at him, the blush on her face already gone.

"It is a change, indeed. The Brotherhood had told everyone within it's ranks that Synths needed to be destroyed, ghouls, feral or not, to be shot on sight, and ask farmers to..." Danse paused, so he can think of the right word to say. "...'donate' their crops to us."

Venessa can tell he was mentally tossing and turning as he talked.

"Look, here's my two cents." Venessa said. "If the Brotherhood of Steel really cared about the people, they wouldn't ask for anything. Synths like me and you," She pointed at her and Danse, "...are doing nothing but helping the people. Hell, if it wasn't for Nora, Maxson would have shot you where you stood."

"It was because he was being true to the Brotherhood of Steel."

"Danse, seriously? Three years of working here, among Synths, ghouls, and you still believe in the Brotherhood?" Venessa's tone of voice was now serious. "You served years in the Brotherhood and Maxson will still say you shouldn't exist just because they were born differently. That all of your hard work was just erased. That's just wrong."

She wasn't yelling, but she was being stern. Which was a rarity among the Charlton community.

"Existing is not a crime. No matter where you're from or what the Brotherhood or anyone else says."

For the first time in a while, Danse was stumped. All his life, no his entire life, he was told that Synth's were an abomination, by the Brotherhood no less. So through that thought process, he was an abomination because he was a synth. What he thought, what he's been through...it was all a lie from the very beginning.

Hotel Swimming Pool Room

"Oh, hey boss!"

Completely catch off guard and not noticing that the two were already in the repairing swimming pool room, here came, Santa, a young adult synth.

"We need your help with a chuck of metal that's stuck. We're trying to get it out, but its stuck between the rubble that we're trying to clear out." Santa explained, pointing at the piece of metal that's stuck.

Venessa rushed towards the ladder in front of the rumble with Danse following suit. She climbed up and reached where she was at arms length of the piece of metal. She pulled it, but it seemed to be really jammed in there.

The second time, she did her best to yank it out from that space. Well, she did get it out, but it cause her to slip and fall from the ladder. Danse rushed over to her, before she fell.

She expected to land back first on the ground, but she found herself on Danse's arms. Once again, she was caught blushing.

"T-Thanks, Danse."

"Don't mention it." He said, shaking his head, with a hint of redness from his cheeks as well. "You should, uh, be careful next time."

A single giggle from Santa was all the effort Venessa needed to hop off of Danse's arms and throw the piece of metal on the ground that barely even hit Santa.

"Stop laughing!" She yelled out.

'Hey, Pluto.'

From her belt, the Walkie-talkie sounded off. Right away, she picked it up and answered, clearly fluttered due the events that played out previously before.

"H-Hey, Kels! What's up?"

#fallout rebellion #sorry this took a bit #been workin on transformers au fics lol #a few days late on what i originally stated #there's a one piece reference in there somewhere lol

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Taura Lamb’s new bittersweet indie-pop single ‘Chapters’ reminisces on memories that haven’t even passed yet, with a warm acoustically layered sound

After working as a songwriter, the London-based musician Taura Lamb found herself wishing to launch her own artist career. Self-producing her debut EP ‘Lucky Girls’ in 2020, Taura has always shown big ambition even from her beginnings, constantly standing out from the crowd. Combining sounds that weave from pop to R&B to indie to folk, Taura really doesn’t limit herself to any one sound, fluid between whatever she feels expresses her storytelling best. Now after being named BBC London's 'Rising Record Artist', 2023 looks to be a big year for Taura, and her newest single ‘Chapters’ will go a long way in solidifying that.

Setting off with a speeding finger-picked acoustic guitar riff, ‘Chapters’ feels rather intimate from the get-go, paired-down and placing Taura’s narrative front and centre of the nearing three minute journey. Slowly adding intermittent haunting backing vocals for a handful of lingering lines, the verse lightly builds whilst Taura continues to touchingly sing atop the warm bedding of sound. From her more spoken-sung verses ‘Chapters’ delivers like that of a novel, with Taura poetically sharing her heartfelt storytelling before the chorus’ absolutely soars into a soft, higher range. Subtle deep guitar plucks accompany the ongoing riff once the chorus hits, adding a powerful resonance as they ring out into the soundscape and leave the chorus feeling all the more impactful. A thudding beat joins the tender instrumentals amidst the second verse and moving forward, with ‘Chapters’ feeling like a constantly growing experience enriched by its many building layers that all interlink for a journey you won’t regret being a part of. The sound can’t help but feel comforting and familiar all throughout, a little saddened in undertones but consistently bright regardless, picking you up in its sound when its words may leave you feeling a little more thoughtful.

All-too relatable for anyone, the lyrical journey of ‘Chapters’ is one that’s both wholesome and bittersweet, capturing all the fleeting moments that make up the chapters of our lives whilst yearning for them to never end. Opening with the aching line, ‘I know I should savour the moment… I already miss it, and I’m still here’, Taura right away touches on the incredible difficulty of being present in a moment that you know will be one you truly treasure when it’s gone. Never knowing when it’ll be the last time something happens, the chorus hook sings ‘life moves quick, swear it’s getting faster, I need a second to relive this chapter’ , an almost desperate plea for more time and a trip back to the past to relive it all from a world that doesn’t stop spinning regardless of who asks. Almost unable to let go of these weighty thoughts, further lyrics add ‘even the good times feel wrong when you miss them this much before they’re gone’ , somehow finding that even the most magical days can be twisted into painful ones when you allow yourself to remember their quickly passing nature. In many ways, though, ‘Chapters’ is a beautiful appreciation for those around her who matter most, an ode to friends who make the most mundane of moments feel grand and spectacular, even when there’s a melancholia seeping through in the unavoidable passage of them. Find yourself both yearning for more time and also encouraged to feel more grateful for the things you perhaps once let you pass by without a second thought, as Taura reminds you how speedily life can pass you by in ‘Chapters.’

Adding more on the creation of the song, Taura explains that “Chapters, one of the most meaningful songs I’ve ever written, was actually born from a TikTok comment. I was asking listeners to comment what they’d like me to write a song about under my videos, then I would write a short song and respond. One of my best and oldest friends ended up commenting something so beautiful that I had to finish it. She recently found out that she quite suddenly had to move away, and the lyrics are about her last few weeks in London with her friends, her flatmates, her job, and her late night cycles to pick up her favourite Thai food. It’s about finding nostalgia in the tiniest things and somehow managing to miss them before you’ve even left. It’s the feeling of knowing you’re doing the right thing, but not being quite ready to turn the page.”

A nostalgically-brimming music video also accompanies the release, showing snippets of a day out with friends in an older video-camera format. Absolutely radiating joy, the video adds a stunning depth to the unravelling story of ‘Chapters’, carrying through Taura’s appreciation while she yearns for more time in this moment that’s already passed.

Check out ‘Chapters’ here to experience a gorgeous soundscape littered with lyrics that are so very bittersweet.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

#music #singlereview #tauralamb #Youtube