#fic idea generator

[queercode-my-minecraft]

The day after the full moon the coffee shop was empty. Perhaps because it was eleven o’clock, or perhaps because of the stench of wet fur.

Not that Cleo could be bothered to care.

After a sleepless night spent running in the nearby forest until the first lights of dawn, being behind the counter working was akin to a nightmare. A situation she was going to murder Ren for at the next meeting.

Although, it wasn’t entirely his fault that he had been able to acquire solely werewolf employees. Hell, with a name like ‘Fur and Paws Coffee Shop’ one would think that no self-respecting werewolf would willingly subject themselves to work in such a place. And, yet, Ren had been able to gather a following of werewolves with no sense of dignity.

Themselves included, unfortunately.

That said, Cleo was going to murder Ren.

A steaming cup of coffee slid on the counter before them.

“You looked like you needed it,” murmured False, before yawning.

Clap hummed in agreement, sagging against her as they picked the cup in their hands, warmth seeping through their fingers.

“You’re a life saver.”

Next to them False smiled, looking just as exhausted as Cleo felt. Strands of hair fell from her usually pristine ponytail, framing her pale face and highlighting the dark bags under her eyes.

“I’m going to murder Ren,” Cleo admitted, between sips.

“We had a good run,” and that was enough of a glaring sign of her current state to make Cleo frown.

“You’re letting me make threats to your precious punching bag? Are you alright?”

False hummed, placing a kiss on Cleo’s temple, “I’m fine. I’ll just have to find another best friend. It’s okay though, they grow on trees.”

Cleo turned, holding onto her arm so as to not let her escape, “You sure you don’t want to take a nap in the back? There aren’t that many people and, if something happens, I can just call Beef or Iskall.”

“Oh, yeah. Because they’re definitely going to be delighted about having to run here after the night they spent.”

Cleo snorted, “As if I care, they knew what they were doing when they decided to get stuck in a tree whilst-“

She wasn’t able to complete the sentence as False kissed her.

“You do care, which is why I’m going to stay here and help you. That is why I volunteered, after all.”

“You volunteered?” asked Cleo, “I don’t know if that’s the most romantic or the most masochist thing I’ve ever heard.”

False grinned, “I think stopping a murderous rampage is pretty romantic.”

“I wouldn’t call murdering Ren a rampage. Definitely murderous, but he is only one person,” they said, pressing a soft kiss on her cheek, “but, I appreciate the sentiment, dear.”

“Hello?”

They turned, prepared to stare down whoever had interrupted them, and found themselves before Gem. Fidgeting and observing her surroundings as if she wasn’t sure she was in the right place.

“What are you doing here?” 

Gem huffed, “Ren sent me. He knows that making you work after the full moon is torture. So, here I am!”

“But, you don’t work here,” said False.

“Do you want to work? Because I can just-”

“No!” Cleo exclaimed, “It’s wonderful to see you! Our saviour! C’mon False, there’s a bed waiting for us at home!”

They left, hands intertwined, leaving Gem to stare at the cold cup of coffee on the counter.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #hermitshipping #zombiecleo #falsesymmetry #fullhotbarfic #zombiesymmetry #fic idea generator #sam writes

[marxism-leninism-meowism]

i made a shipfic prompt generator because i was bored and couldn't come up with ideas

#if anyone actually writes a fic based on a prompt from this generator #please tag me or let me know #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #prompts #fic prompts #fanfic prompts #writing prompts #prompt generator #fic generator #fic idea #fic idea generator

[thevioletcaptain]

i genuinely don't care how good a piece of ai generated art or writing looks on the surface. i don't care if it emulates brush strokes and metaphor in a way indistinguishable from those created by a person.

it is not the product of thoughtful creation. it offers no insights into the creator's life or viewpoint. it has no connection to a moment in time or a place or an attitude. it has no perspective. it has no value.

it's empty, it's hollow, and it exists only to generate clicks (and by extension, ad revenue.)

it's just another revolting symptom of the disease that is late stage capitalism, and it fucking sucks.

#''but i just want to use it to--'' don't care! it's shit! stop fucking feeding it! #if you need help generating ideas or jumping off points then join an artist or writer group online #talk to people #make connections #that's what art and writing is supposed to be about in the first place #i'm mad as hell etc. #so goddamn sick and tired of seeing ai shit get passed around on here #it's bad enough in general but every time i see more of it showing up #tagged as fan art or as fic #the angrier i get #heartfelt imperfection in art and writing will always ALWAYS be worth more than the most technically ''perfect'' ai generated image or text #fandom problems #ai generation algorithms die in a fire challenge 2k23 #just a heads up that i'm muting this post and will no longer see responses to it #because i'm tired of seeing dogshit takes from jackasses who want to ''debate'' me #there's no debate you're in the wrong on literally every level and you can die mad about it

[biscuitdragonwithastick]

Imagine your just walking through the woods when a monster rushes you from behind. Sprawled on the ground, helpless under their weight, you wait for the blinding pain of claws tearing through flesh, but it never comes.

Instead, those sharp claws tear through your clothing and you feel blood rushing to face out of embarrassment and confusion. Thoughts rampage through your mind as to what it wants, and then you feel something wet and hot against your opening.

You scramble to get a away but it growls against your neck. It's a monster with needs. It won't let you go until it's done.

You cry out as it thrusts into you. Like an animal, it's only focus is breeding you full of its monster spawn. For some horrible reason, that turns you on. You try to fight how arousing it is to be used like this, that this doesn't feel good at all.

Your voice betrays you though and you moan with an orgasm as it thrusts into you one last time and cums.

You're so ready for this to be all over - to just crawl home and fall asleep in a warm blanket - but then you feel something press against your entrance.

The monster whine and bucks forward. You groan with the force as something pops inside. You have no time to wonder what it is as more of these objects start flood your insides.

Eggs.

You realize that you're being bred with eggs. Your tummy rounds so beautifully with them, your tired mind less horrified and more fascinated to watch it expand with each intrusion.

Finally, the monster pulls out. It carries you back to the entrance of the forest and leaves you there to find your own way home.

All you can think about is how your going to hide this from everyone in town.

#terato #monsterfucker #monster x reader #eggpreg #ovipositor #belly expansion #non specified gender #A very generic ovi idea #but I just love being bred with eggs #monster breeding #biscuit tumblr fic

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU

Masterpost

Guys, I'm so sorry. But here's this!

~~~~

Danny blinks and he is somewhere else. He’s sitting at a dining room table, surrounded. There are so many people here. They’re all talking over each other, some yelling, some laughing. This scene comes as a great surprise to him, who -one blink ago- was trying and failing to do his homework at home in his room. Danny shoots up, his chair making a horrible noise as he pushes it away so fast it tumbles over. Everyone in the room turns to look over at him like he’s insane. 

“Oh my god, who are you people?” Danny did not mean to say this out loud, but at the sound of his voice he startles. Danny takes a moment to assess, and then, “Oh my god who am I?”  He is tall, and big, and this is certainly not his body, what is he wearing.

The boy sitting to the right of Danny, a little shorter than he is, with black hair and blue eyes (though now that he’s paying attention that does describe most people in the room),  starts chuckling lightly. “Uh, Jason? Are you good?” 

Danny turns to stare him right in the eyes. “What day is it?”

And he can tell the concern around the table is just ratcheting up every time he opens his stupid mouth.

“Did you hit your head on patrol?” The voice comes from the only blond and one of the only girls in the room, who's to the left of the person across from him. The person across from him is another boy with black hair and blue eyes who is studying Danny in a way that makes him uncomfortable, that under-a-microscope look that makes you feel like you’re failing at something.

“I have no idea if Jason hit his head.” Danny says. “I was just trying to remember if it was my birthday.”

And if he thought the room was busy when he first arrived here it is absolute pandemonium now. Everyone starts shouting and asking questions that he can’t even hear over the shouting. Someone with white hair in a suit just came through a door he didn’t even see earlier to stand by the only person not shouting, who -Danny would guess- is the only other adult in this room, witting at the head of the table. He also has black hair and blue eyes, and where almost everyone else’s reaction was panic, he froze instead. The person across from Danny also isn’t shouting, but the person next to Danny on his right has now fully stood up and looks like he might actually jump across the table to win the argument he ended up in. 

“Are you Jason’s soulmate?” is the main gist of the shouting that Danny can interpret but he’s more concerned with actual Jason at the moment. If they switched bodies... Then Jason might be in trouble…

“Hey, I forget, how long is this body swap supposed to last again?” Danny asks.

“Until you and Jason have physical contact. You have to actually meet.” The boy sitting across from him explains. He seems like one of the only ones that heard Danny talk, everyone else was still shouting. 

“Oh, that just seems terrible. What if we’re in different countries or something?” Danny complained. “Everyone in the world is just supposed to be able to drop everything and afford to fly across the world. The universe is really trying to screw people over now. Honestly, am I in a different country? Where even are we right now?”

“You’re in Gotham.” This voice was new, coming from the head of the table to Danny’s right. 

“Oh no. Nope.” Danny started backing away from the table, almost tripping on his overturned chair. “Absolutely not, no, how do I get out of here?” He starts earnestly looking for a door to get out of this place, but there are three doors he can see and he has no idea where any of them go, and doesn’t this room have any windows? What kind of a room doesn’t have any windows? Do they like to eat in a basement?

“Jason- not Jason. Uh, you need to calm down, everything will be fine alright, We’ll get you and Jason introduced no problem.” Danny swivels to track the voice and it’s the one who was sitting next to him, he’s walking towards him with his hands up and out in front of him. 

“I have to get home.” Danny breathes. 

“We can get you there, promise. Now, I’m Dick, can you tell me your name?”

“Your name is Dick? Who named you Dick?” Danny is so confused he’s stopped panicking. “How old are you for you to go by the name Dick?”

“Okay, rude.” Dick sounds like a petulant child so Danny’s estimations for his age are continuously dropping. “I’m 24.”

Danny snorts. “Okay.” The blond girl starts laughing over at the table. “I’m uh, I’m Danny.”

“Nice to meet you. Sort of. I’m Tim.” The guy from across from him had made it over to stand next to Dick. “There’s a lot of us here today so the one laughing like a hyena is Steph. That one there is Duke.” African-American, still with black hair but he has brown eyes and waves once introduced. “Damian is the short one next to him, and Cass was sitting across from Dick earlier. Our dad, Jason’s dad-” 

“Not my dad!” Steph interrupted. Tim waves her off.

“Everyone but Steph's dad, is over there, Bruce. Alfred, our butler is the one next to him.” Alfred gives a slight nod to his head. Bruce is just staring at him.

“So, names out of the way. You said you wanted to go home, where do you live?”

“Amity Park.”

#dcxdp #dpxdc #batman #danny phantom #dead on main #soulmate au #my writing #fanfiction #red hood #danny fenton #jason todd #I'm so sorry for starting another one #this is just a one-shot right now #but the ideas have hit me so I may write more later #trying not to get distracted from my other fics #but also trying not to let focus on my other fics hinder writing in general #cause sometimes if I try too hard to focus on one thing I just get super stuck and upset and end up not being able to work on it at all #oh well #writing is writing #hope you enjoy #whatever this was

[nat-ter]

superbat fic idea: bruce and clark started dating before they knew about each other's identify and the batkids are overprotective of bruce so they tried to make clark's life miserable by sabotaging clark in ways that might be a bit too extreme at some point.

like, this one time clark came over for dinner jason put a whole bottle of laxatives in clark's food and clark ofc could tell that his food was tempered with in some way but he was so nervous he ended up eating the whole thing and ofc nothing happened to him so clark was like "oh thank god" and jason was like "what the everloving fuck" he wished he had gone with poison

another time clark came over damian hid a bunch of needles in a cushion and made sure clark sat on it bcus this is damian we're talking about he had no idea what is extreme and what's not. but then clark sat down like nothing was amiss and when damian checked it after clark went home the needles were all bent in different angles. he knew he should've put the katana instead.

or, tim hacked clark's phone to find some dirt on him bcus the background check didn't reveal anything remarkable. except he ended up seeing a bunch of bruce's noods and scarred himself for life. he might or might not have deleted some of the more scandalous pictures. and bruce might have bought clark a new phone with better security. all in all, tim would never go anywhere near clark's phone again

when every single one of their plans failed or backfired they roped dick into it and the next time clark came over while bruce wasn't there they locked him in the library and threw in a can of tear gas and smoke bomb. what they find was a very anxious clark hovering three feet above ground level pulling the heavy library doors off its hinges and frantically searching for the kids bcus he thought someone was attacking them and his first instinct was to protect bruce's children. he was still holding onto those bigass doors like they weighed nothing

so that's how they find out that bruce was dating superman

#superbat #i mean there are sooo many things to add here #so many more children #but this is the general idea #somebody pls write this im literally begging you #batkids #batfam #superbat fic ideas

[saetoru]

al-haitham’s the kind of guy who tilts his head slightly for a kiss before you even lean in to give him one. he just knows it’s coming. expects it. trusts it’ll happen.

he’s yawning when he sits at the table for breakfast, hair slightly disheveled from sleep. he sits down and when you place the mug of coffee in front of him, his head angles a little for that kiss you place on his cheek.

he’s drowned in endless paperwork at the akademiya when you stop by to visit, chuckling when he gives you that look of despair at the all the work he has to do. you don’t even manage to walk up to him fully before he’s leaning in and waiting for the kiss to the top of his head.

he’s shirtless in the bathroom, brushing his teeth at night when you walk in to brush yours too, bumping hips with his as you giggle. you don’t even have to turn before he’s tilting his head so he’s exposed and ready for that gentle peck you leave at his jaw.

“have you ever noticed how demanding you are for these,” you chuckle one day, pressing a kiss to his cheek to prove your point.

he grunts, leaning in and burying his head into your neck as you greet him at the door after a long day. “what makes you say that,” he mumbles.

“you’re ready for one before i’ve even come close,” you grin, “what if one day i don’t kiss you?”

“you’d stop kissing me?” he asks, squeezing your hips as he nuzzles into your neck. something tells you he already knows your answer.

and he’s warm. he’s close. he’s here and he’s everything all at once. he’s all you need and everything you’ve ever wanted. he’s the messy hair of your mornings and the pouty lips of your afternoons and that shirtless back of every night. he meets you halfway—maybe even takes the first step so you don’t have to.

he leans in for that kiss before you do. because he needs you, wants you, loves you—and he never lets you forget it. so you turn your head, press your lips against the side of his head and run your fingers through his hair as he sighs in content.

“no,” you hum, falling in love all over again, “no i’d never stop kissing you.”

#✰ — al haitham. #hi guys i’m #rly sad #bc idk i’m trying to pick up writing my haitham fic again #but i’m struggling on cnn arcaterization and #just writing in general #i think i’m hitting a block again #and i was 6k words into the fic #i rly wanted to post it before this vacation #so i’m trying to write little blurbs of #how i think he’s like to love #to maybe #idk spark inspiration and get a better grasp of him #i’m just #bummed :( this fic was my most fav idea ever i #rly love it and him and it was making me happy to write and now i feel like it’s not what k expected so i’m sad #:( #anyway here’s needy haitham to cleanse the dash and cheer up moods #bc i needed a mood loft #lift **

[pettyprocrastination]

whoever this beloved anon was I am so touched by your kindness! You definitely didn’t have to do this but I am so happy you enjoy this idea and I will happily expand upon it for you!

this is just a collection of word vomit bullet points for the time being but I will happily answer any and all questions about this pair!!

warnings: violence, angst, child death (Sarah Miller), foul language, the same warnings that apply to tlou, reader is Sarah's mom and described as having similar features to her. 

So the general Idea is that you and Joel are happily married before the outbreak. 

You had been Sarah's mother, his high school sweetheart he got pregnant when neither of you were old enough to have any reaction to the pregnancy test other than a fucking panic attack in one another’s arms. but you made it work 

you both worked but made time for one another and your sweet girl, going to museums every other weekend and joel insisting on swooping you off for a date every now and then 

nothing special. He knows you’re more of a diner gal than anything too fancy that makes you both feel out of place. 

On his birthday in 2003, you had planned to tell him that you were pregnant again. But the memories of your own fears of motherhood from all those years ago begin to swirl through your head again and you get cold feel. deciding to tell him the morning after

it is his birthday afterall, you want to focus on him. 

but when you’re woken up in the middle of the night because tommy needs to get bailed out, Joel kisses you sweetly one last time before promising he’ll be back and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is happening. 

its you that shakes sarah awake that night. shouting at her to put on her shoes when she’s still rubbing the sleep from her eyes because you’ve been listening to the radio for the past two hours, calling joel again and again and again praying for him to fucking pick up but to no avail. 

Sarah, bless your little girl’s bleeding heart is the one who insists you check on the adler’s against your better suspicions and when you find the eldest looming over her daughter, blood and sinew dripping from her mouth, you grab your daughter hand and burst into a full sprint until something slams into your back and sends you tumbling onto their front lawn

its how joel finds you, struggling to keep the once sweet old woman, whose now nothing more than dead eyes and gnashing teeth straining to snap at your pulse point as you push against her while sarah shrieks before your husband runs forward and cracks her skull with a wrench. 

there’s hardly a moment of pause, just enough for him to pull you up and into his arms before he’s ushering you both into the car with an urgency. 

when the truck crashes, you get separated from them. Perhaps at Tommy’s side when the flames rise and create a wall, separating you from your husband, or maybe pulled into the mob of chaos when trying to escape from those already infected-

all joel knows is that you promise you’ll find him: just get sarah to safety and you’ll meet him at the river

Poor thing is already so frightened, held in her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face insisting they can’t leave you they just can’t but her father kisses her forehead and reassures her its going to be okay 

“we just need to be brave, okay babygirl? Your mama’s real tough, she’s gonna be alright.” 

he isn’t sure if he’s saying it to his daughter or himself. 

but when he comes to the river you aren’t there. Only a soldier who points a gun at the scared little girl in his arms and then he loses everything

its when the light is gone from his daughter’s eyes that he realizes. His voice cracked and raw from sobbing that he looks around to see his brother with drawn in shoulders and tears in his eyes but his wife is nowhere to be found. 

Tommy says you got lost in the chaos. Everything was so loud, so sudden that he turned around and suddenly you weren’t there. 

Joel wants to go back but its Tommy that stops him, that dulls the red in his vision to a sad faded pink because his brother points at the orange horizon not too far from them, so much of the city is already in flames. 

“We’re gonna find her, but not there.” 

So Joel searches. for the first year spent in the world post-outbreak its all he did. 

He became a smuggler because of it. 

Information came at a price and he needed to be able to fucking pay it, whether it be in blood or ration cards. He was willing to do anything to find you or any thin thread that lead your way. 

But it’s Tommy that asks him to give up. Not in those words of course. 

The youngest Miller knows better than to say something so cruel that would make his brother, the only person he has in this world turn on him. 

But his voice is worried when he asks him one night in Boston when he hasn’t even had the chance to wash the blood from his knuckles 

“You think she would have wanted this for you?” 

the fight that followed his words was brutal. Vicious insults and scarred fists slamming against each brother until they're both too tired and bloody to continue. Each leaning against a wall for support and Tommy’s wavering voice breaking the silence. 

“I don’t know where she is, Joel. But I do know you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep lookin’ for her.” 

All he can do is nod. 

It’s a few days later when he meets Tess. Who has heard plenty of stories about the elder miller’s brutality and wants him to put that muscle to good use for some extra profit. 

It begins his new life. One that empty and cold but one he can live. 

Until of course, Ellie comes along. The sweet and incredibly opinionated girl that makes him become something akin to the man he thought died twenty years ago. 

its when he’s traveling with Ellie, that it happens. When a warm familiarity has settled between the two because so much blood and pain has been shared he can’t help but see her as something close, something bright even though all he can force himself to utter in her reference is “cargo” 

when theyre traveling through the woods as Ellie chatters away, probing his memory about a movie that may or may not have existed thirty years ago because her descriptions of the plot are incredibly odd he hears a voice shout for them to stop and finds himself staring at a man- no, a boy- pointing a gun at them. 

Ellie stills, but Joel can see enough to know that from the lanky figure and dimpled face that he’s young. Maybe twenty, twenty-two at the oldest, but his eyes dart from Joel to Ellie with a pinprick of fear that allows Joel the time to charge forward and slam him to the ground before wrestling the gun from his hands. 

He has enough to time to tuck it under the stranger’s chin before he hears the sound of the safety being turned off and finds himself looking up and seeing a gun just inches from his face. 

Joel’s head whips around when Ellie’s voice calls out his name in fear, he turns to see another stranger holding her a gun point, shoulders drawn back and a shadow cast over their face by the had obstructing their identity. 

“You hurt one of mine, I hurt one of yours. That a fair deal?” 

Its takes him a moment to recognize you. It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice, the sweet tease when you would poke at him each time he woke up late despite the fact that you reminded him to set his alarm the night before, the times you’d chide him with a harsh “Joel Miller!” whispered in public anytime he was able to grab you a bit too passionately to be appropriate in public but the laughter in your voice let him know you were never truly mad at him. You didn’t know how to be. 

But that sweetness is buried under a cold rasp that cuts through the air as you point a rifle at the scared little girl in front of you.

“You think I won’t?” You’re older now, skin covered in scars from a life he didn’t know you got the chance to live and your eyes are cold as they regard your husband. “Put the gun down and get the fuck off of him, I won’t repeat myself.” 

Joel mumbles your name in awe. The woman he loved, the woman he mourned the one he fought so hard to find stands before him like some sort of hallucination and suddenly the world feels like its spinning until you bark orders at him again. 

“You’ve got five seconds Joel, make a fucking choice before I make it for you.” 

He looks down and realizes the boy under him, the one with the bleeding nose and snarling face has your eyes and his dimples. 

“One.” 

The one above him has Sarah’s hair. Soft brown curls that shine under the sun. 

“Two”

Wait. No, they both do.

“Three.” 

Twins. Jesus fucking Christ you had twins. 

“Four.” 

Joel holds the rifle up above his head and the one boy standing snatches it from his grasp, tossing it to the ground and kicking it far from his reach. He slowly stands, allowing your son- dear god your son- to scramble to his feet. 

Your voice softens just for a moment. “You okay, Duke?” 

Blood stains the bottom half of his face from where Joel slammed his fist into the boy’s nose just moments before, but he nods nonetheless. 

Now, they both stand on one side of you and he can see the resemblance clear as day the same way he would whenever Sarah was by your side.

When you order him to hand over his bag, he does so without question before telling Ellie to do the same. 

She watches him with wide eyes, her hands still up in the air but gaping at her companion as if he had grown a second head. 

“Joel!” “Just do it, alright?”

He doesn’t miss the way you watch their interaction with narrowed eyes until she tosses her bag to you and you slowly lower your gun. 

“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doin’ at my home?” 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #i had an idea of something similar for tommy but on outbreak night he uh. abandons you instead of getting separated from you #because. angst :D #people say nice things #this was incredibly generous of you anon thank you so so much! #i may get myself a little starbucks drink this week now because I havent had starbucks since like january 1st lol #joel reeling from taking in all this information and also realizing he suckerpunched HIS OWN KID #id like to apologize for all the grammatical issues with this. this is just a bulletpoint word vomit to get my thoughts on the page before- #-beginning the actual fic. also I have to do a midterm tonight and this is my treat to myself hehe #but yes. joel getting separated from his wife on outbreak night and having to accept that shes probably dead #meanwhile youve lived this entire life without him because you think HES dead ad raising your boys all on your own #which just- further digs into his insecurities about failing in his role as a protector #he couldn't save sarah. he can't save ellie and he couldn't even save you #he thinks about you pregnant and alone. fending for yourself in a world full of infected and raiders and his chest grows tight again #this is all followed by Ellie going >:O 'you KNOW THIS PSYCHO?'and then joel immediately snapping at her to WATCH HER MOUTH #because that kid has no filter and he has to explain that youre his wife #anyways joels wife is a badass mfer who also maybe has a little garden and some chickens that you and your boys take care of <3 yeah . #reunion tag #ill be using that for this specific couple because I dont have a fic title yet but if anybody has suggestions!

[tossawary]

Luo Binghe doesn't know that he's a demon until Meng Mo tells him. Even then, Meng Mo doesn't really say "you're a demon" at first. He suggests that a demon might have planted something in Luo Binghe at some point and urges him to cultivate a demonic path. I guess they figured out later together that Binghe was descended from a demon, maybe, in the next few years; it's possible that Binghe didn't find out that he was a heavenly demon specifically until being revealed at the Immortal Alliance Conference.

I wonder what it felt like for Luo Binghe, for those first 14-15 years of his life. Could he feel his demonic power at all? I generally headcanon that Su Xiyan sealed it very deeply using dimension pockets, but Meng Mo managed to sense something while in Luo Binghe's body and taught Luo Binghe how to harness some of that power through the seals, so Binghe could probably feel something of his demonic power.

So, what did it feel like? I'm imagining that the growing pains of whatever the hell is up with Luo Binghe's body probably didn't feel good, and maybe felt like being sick. A flash of heat inside his chest? Twisting pain in his abdomen sometimes? A stabbing needle through his veins that left him feeling lightheaded? A splitting headache that appeared for no reason and vanished without explanation? Light fevers that strike in the night and ache down to bones? Breathlessness? Inexplicable dread?

It's terrifying not to know what's "wrong" with you. I'm imagining young Luo Binghe curled up in that woodshed, thinking about his adoptive mother, and feeling like he was going to die without explanation. It's so sad.

Shen Yuan knows from the beginning that Luo Binghe is a demon, is a heavenly demon, is the protagonist, and is going to survive and "thrive", so he doesn't really think about it, but Binghe DOESN'T KNOW. His present life at Qing Jing Peak is painful and unstable and miserable; his future is unknown and terrifying and far from sure. He doesn't know anything about "Proud Immortal Demon Way". Even when Meng Mo shows up and offers him a desperately needed advantage, they're just guessing what's wrong with him, and now Binghe has to add "fear of being caught cultivating a demonic path or randomly dying because of this unknown power" to his stresses.

It makes me want to get up and start pacing, like, fuck, he really didn't know for a really long time. This poor kid!

#tossawary svsss #luo binghe #pidw luo binghe #sickness #luo binghe's tbi issues #missing a more general tag for how much protagonist Luo Binghe's life sucks in practicality #meng mo #luo binghe demonic seal #fic ideas #character death

[flashthescalesian-art]

Fox deserves a lot of good things, but one thing I never see anyone talk about is the fact that he deserves to be cared for by a sweet old lady who basically just treats him like her grandkid. Bonus points if the old lady is a wildly different species from a human.

#Commander Fox #is this alluding to something in my fic? #mayyyyyybeeee #is it also just a cute idea in general? #yes #coruscant guard #star wars #the clone wars

[aliferous-ly]

ranchers au of the story of a woman who'll marry whoever can get the key off her cats neck

except it's tango, who is a magician of sorts so he's highly sought after, so he comes up with this test of whoever can get the key he'll marry. people start setting traps and whatnot. most of them tango avoids with ease, but he gets caught in one. depressed, he waits for the inevitable downfall.

only, the person who finds him isnt the one who set the trap. a man finds him, and, aghast at the sight, let's tango go. later in town as jimmy recounts this happenstance everyone around him angrily tells him off because he's squandered this perfect opportunity, and this is how Jimmy finds out about the contest.

he thinks the contest is rather upsetting, because how could someone set the whole town against a poor cat like that?

jimmy takes it upon himself to take care of the cat. he listens as people brag about traps so he can find them and dismantle them. he leaves food and fresh water out when he can, and sets up a small shelter for when it rains. he can't imagine that the cat will use it, with it looking so obviously like a trap, but he sets it up anyway.

he gets a rather negative reputation in town because of this. but instead of backing down, jimmy instead snaps back about what kind of person tango must be, to pit the whole town against an innocent animal! because of the pushback from the townspeople he gets rather righteous about his position.

his opinion is cemented further as the cat slowly learns to trust him. sometimes Jimmy rants to the cat about his neglectful and cruel owner.

time passes. many people in town give up on their endeavors. they set traps, but can't afford to check them frequently. they're too busy working. jimmy gains the cats trust and the cat hides in the shelter he built it. eventually, the cat even walks into his home.

jimmy all but adopts this cat, at this point. he feeds it, cares for it, makes sure it's safe during storms and warm on cold nights. the cat hangs around him all the time, the key dangling from its neck. it's startling, the first time the cat jumps on his lap, but jimmy rewards this trust with lots of pets and nothing else.

the cat grows bolder. it bumps it's forehead against jimmy's hand, curls up on jimmy's lap, and yowls for food at the crack of dawn. it leaves the house but never for longer than a day, always returning with an expectant gaze.

Jimmy tries to ignore the key but he grows restless. this tango guy hasn't even asked about his cat, and Jimmy's been caring for it for ages! He knows the key is to tangos house and is only for the winning suitor, but after the weather turns cold and jimmy despairs about how the cat would survive in such extreme weather without help, he takes the key and stomps up to tangos house to give him a piece of his mind.

it's a long, winding path. The cat follows him the whole way, which is odd, since the cat usually only follows Jimmy when he's safe at home. jimmy reaches the house and he knocks first, he has manners, but after no answer he unlocks it and storms in.

only, the whole place is empty. it's clean, someone clearly lives here, but there's nobody home. jimmy deflates. the cat jumps on a large cushioned chair and stares at him.

jimmy slumps over to the cat and pets it, mumbling about what to do next. he does one final sweep of the house (in jimmy's opinion, if tango wanted privacy he wouldnt have put his key on a cat!). and when he turns back to the cat, hands on his hips and ready to announce failure, his cat isn't... there. in it's place is a man with fiery red hair and a smirk firmly upon his lips.

jimmy has his moments of foolishness but he's not dense. he makes the connection. he realizes, and gapes at the man -- at tango, who's been the cat all along.

tango teases him about marriage and jimmy flusters. the two of them finally get to know each other outside of the contest and tango is firm in his reward, announcing it to the townspeople (many of which are furious at Jimmy, loudest anti-tango spokesman around, being the winner).

and jimmy and tango fall in love and live happily ever after the end.

and yes, jimmy is incredibly embarrassed about unknowingly insulting tango to his face. tango, for his part, found it hilarious and it actually endeared him to jimmy, since jimmy was so furious on the cat's behalf.

#team rancher #solidaritek #something i would love to write a full on fic for. alas #snippets #please dont write this idea!! i might write it eventually :] #if u wanna do the general au of the cat + marriage + whatever then ofc go for it but just not. this exact plot #ty #trafficshipping #trafficblr

[lbhslefttiddie]

youve heard of sex flowers get ready for the flower that makes you into a celestial shoujo herione complete with particle effects you cannot turn the fuck off and creates a wifebeam so powerful it can incapacitate and maim and keeps making you burst into tears and fall on your ass which makes the wifebeam More Powerful and you also cannot turn this off either. and is also still, sort of, a sex flower

from one of my favorite fanfictions, Celestial Afterglow by elanor_pam, a fic that defies description in the best possible way

#arts #shen qingqiu #svsss #listen im not saying that ive spent a cumulative half a year reading this fic and then trying to make an arts for it #and then getting frustrated and stopping because i couldn't figure out how to make sqq shimmery enough #but like. im not NOT saying that #this is the FOURTH time ive started something for this bitch it haunts my fucking dreams and yet the opalescent glittery sqq evades me #perhaps you o unlearned fool look at this and say hmm that's too many colour layers and glowy effects but oh how wrong you are #if it doesnt make you literally fall over yourself at how otherworldly and radiant he is then there is room for improvement yet #perhaps you look at this and you think Wow!!! this gives me literally NO ideas what this fic is about #well Let Me Tell You. i have no fucking idea how to summarize this fic #its not often the tags in a fic give me pause but i saw this and as i read the tags i was increasingly just like What #but i have no idea how to describe it. the tags arent NOT accurate but i was SO unprepared for what happened in like an extremely pos way #if i were tagging this i think i would give it the no archive warnings apply label if that matters to you #the author seemed they wanted to leaned towards over caution rather than risk missing anything re tags because This Is A Weird Fic #but oh my fucking god #i am gripping you by the shoulders i cannot stress enough how charming it is #brilliant characterization especially with airplane in the first scene #and also so much fucking funnier than i thought possible for the general setting summary tags and buildup #its just. ough. its good

[zhongrin]

a guide to keep your writers feeling happy and appreciated: what to put on reblog comments/tags

note: you can (and are encouraged to!) mix & match these. and they're not just for reblogs ー we also welcome you into our ask box to drop these kind of asks &lt;3

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

OMG I LOVE THIS

hflkazjsdklahsdlkajskljdklas

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

bless you op

thank you for the food. very delicious. will come again

ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgo

someone hold me i'm about to go feral

i need [character] to hold me

i am gobbling this like a starved squirrel who forgot to stock food throughout winter

iwillnotsimpiwillnotsimpiwillnotsim- i'm simping

i'm so normal about this. totally.

screaming yelling screeching

oh fucー

OMNOMNOMNOM

i liked the part where [insert scene here]

i like it when you [insert writer's writing style here]

@[friend] look.

[insert a quote from a character in the fic and your reaction here]

[insert a conspiracy theory of what happened behind the scenes with the characters here]

[insert any fan creation (fics, art, incorrect quotes, memes, etc) inspired by the fic here]

[a live description of play-by-play reactions as you read the fic]

this picture:

alternatively, any puppy/kitten/bunny pictures

DO NOT put:

part 2 when

do [character(s)] next

[insert comments that views us as a content machine and not a human being]

[insert unwanted criticism here]

[insert any sort of hate comments here]

as a general rule of thumb, remember that your writer is a fellow human and you should treat them with the way you want to be treated: love and respect <3

#rin scheduled a post #idk what possessed me to do this on the fly but i think it's just that reblogs have been very scarce lately #and i know it's mostly because i personally haven't been writing and all. but #i've been seeing a general decline in reblog comments on fics on my friends' posts too #so idt it's just a me thing #so here are some ideas <3 #will i get flamed for putting this in x reader tag? maybe #but i'll risk it #this also works for artists btw!!!! or generally any content creator really

[otaku553]

A certain first encounter

#genshin impact #demon slayer #crossover #kaedehara ​kazuha #shinazugawa sanemi #first chapter is in progress for the fic lmao I just felt like doing a little drawing of their first meeting #why is sanemi so hard to draw actually #I love the idea of kazuha seeing the demon slayer uniform and just noping the hell out of there #not shown because I didn’t plan this comic out great: sanemi has just seen kazuha killing demons with a broken nichirin sword and #nichirin swords are generally only within the corps— but Kazuha’s not a demon slayer clearly #which means to sanemi that he must have stolen the blade somehow or picked it up from a corpse somewhere #which sanemi will absolutely get angry about #anyways their second meeting both of them are definitely more eloquent but also no friendlier with each other #really pushing it in the fic with how sarcastic and passive aggressive I think kazuha can be #never seen him interact with Raiden directly sadly so very little reference to go off of on kazuha interacting with people he doesn’t like #I’m determined to believe that kazuha would be extremely petty but in a classy way if someone pushed his buttons enough

[jamietwat]

Jamie would 100% make Roy a dating app profile sometime after the Keeley rejecting both of them thing to try to help him move on and meet people when clearly he’s refusing to get back out there organically and he’d think he’s being so helpful and generous and the best wingman ever. He’d handpick what he considers the sexiest pictures he can find and put a bunch of shit Roy would never say thinking he’s being accurate and helpful and not even taking the clear opportunity to make a joke account to embarrass him or anything when he easily could have just made fun of him and chosen the worst pictures possible instead

And then he would be SO offended when it doesn’t go well when Roy finds out about it and is not properly appreciative at all

Roy thinks it’s Jamie’s account when he starts showing Roy girls like what do you think of her and asking him way too many questions when Roy has no interest in participating and has no idea why the fuck Jamie seems incapable of swiping without trying to get Roy’s opinions first. Meanwhile, Roy’s giving one word answers at first and then increasingly trying to brush him off when he doesn’t stop and then he’s just flat out like “Choose your own dates and leave me the fuck out of it” and Jamie’s like “Nah, this is your account. You should have a say” and instead of being grateful and appreciative and thanking Jamie for being oh so generous with his time and energy, Roy just scowls at him and growls out “You did not make a fucking Tinder profile for me” and Jamie just smirks and decides now is not the right moment yet to mention that he actually made him accounts on like three different apps because he wasn’t sure which Roy would like best

Roy barks at him to delete it and Jamie’s all whiny like “Come on, I spent a lot of time on these and you haven’t even considered it. Plus, even if you’re not ready to date someone yet, you’d still be less miserable to be around if you at least found someone to shag in the meantime”

And Roy’s like “Delete it. I don’t want a fucking Tinder profile.” And Jamie looks at him confused for a moment and then seems to have an epiphany as he goes “Oh, do you want a Grindr one instead? Hold on a second” and he flips to a different app and Roy’s too busy being baffled by the fact that Grindr is already on Jamie’s phone and that he’s having to sign out of his own account to try to make one for Roy to even stop him before he’s already trying to sign up for a new account and Roy goes “That’s not what I meant. I don’t want any dating app”

And Jamie pauses his typing and turns and looks at him so skeptically and so judgily and suddenly somehow Roy is trying to fight for his life trying to defend why he’s not looking for some random stranger to date or fuck around with

#Also a possibility: Jamie not signing out of his and asking Roy what he thinks of #guys and when Roy is like stop that why did you make me a Grindr profile why are you swiping on guys and even if you were WHY that one #And Roy’s trying to get the phone out of Jamie’s hand and when he does Jamie’s like stop that’s my account let me swipe #on him I was just trying to find out what kind of guys you’d be into before making yours 😔 #+ Roy being so critical of Jamie’s taste in men like him??? seriously??? because the idea of Jamie messaging any of them bothers him #I may turn this into a RoyJamie fic at some point or possibly RoyJamie that has Keeley later too #Obviously Roy’s brain obsesses over Jamie’s Grindr profile and what he may or may not be doing with it just as much as he obsesses over #Jamie in general after this and he’s stuck trying to figure out how to casually bring it back up to him #(Spoiler alert: it’s Roy so it absolutely won’t be casual and yet Jamie won’t care that it isn’t at all #) #Jamie would GLADLY be the one fucking around with Roy but he’s also out here advocating for Roy to fuck in general #RoyJamie #Roy Kent #Jamie Tartt #Ted Lasso #Mine #Grindr fic #Putting that there for when I come back to this because I have a lot of thoughts #Once again I refuse to reread words and edit rn so I’ll just be bummed about the errors later

[anghraine]

Okay, breaking my principles hiatus again for another fanfic rant despite my profound frustration w/ Tumblr currently:

I have another post and conversation on DW about this, but while pretty much my entire dash has zero patience with the overtly contemptuous Hot Fanfic Takes, I do pretty often see takes on Fanfiction's Limitations As A Form that are phrased more gently and/or academically but which rely on the same assumptions and make the same mistakes.

IMO even the gentlest, and/or most earnest, and/or most eruditely theorized takes on fanfiction as a form still suffer from one basic problem: the formal argument does not work.

I have never once seen a take on fanfiction as a form that could provide a coherent formal definition of what fanfiction is and what it is not (formal as in "related to its form" not as in "proper" or "stuffy"). Every argument I have ever seen on the strengths/weaknesses of fanfiction as a form vs original fiction relies to some extent on this lack of clarity.

Hence the inevitable "what about Shakespeare/Ovid/Wide Sargasso Sea/modern takes on ancient religious narratives/retold fairy tales/adaptation/expanded universes/etc" responses. The assumptions and assertions about fanfiction as a form in these arguments pretty much always should apply to other things based on the defining formal qualities of fanfic in these arguments ("fanfiction is fundamentally X because it re-purposes pre-existing characters and stories rather than inventing new ones" "fanfiction is fundamentally Y because it's often serialized" etc).

Yet the framing of the argument virtually always makes it clear that the generalizations about fanfic are not being applied to Real Literature. Nor can this argument account for original fics produced within a fandom context such as AO3 that are basically indistinguishable from fanfic in every way apart from lacking a canon source.

At the end of the day, I do not think fanfic is "the way it is" because of any fundamental formal qualities—after all, it shares these qualities with vast swaths of other human literature and art over thousands of years that most people would never consider fanfic. My view is that an argument about fanfic based purely on form must also apply to "non-fanfic" works that share the formal qualities brought up in the argument (these arguments never actually apply their theories to anything other than fanfic, though).

Alternately, the formal argument could provide a definition of fanfic (a formal one, not one based on judgment of merit or morality) that excludes these other kinds of works and genres. In that case, the argument would actually apply only to fanfic (as defined). But I have never seen this happen, either.

So ultimately, I think the whole formal argument about fanfic is unsalvageably flawed in practice.

Realistically, fanfiction is not the way it is because of something fundamentally derived from writing characters/settings etc you didn't originate (or serialization as some new-fangled form, lmao). Fanfiction as a category is an intrinsically modern concept resulting largely from similarly modern concepts of intellectual property and auteurship (legally and culturally) that have been so extremely normalized in many English-language media spaces (at the least) that many people do not realize these concepts are context-dependent and not universal truths.

Fanfic does not look like it does (or exist as a discrete category at all) without specifically modern legal practices (and assumptions about law that may or may not be true, like with many authorial & corporate attempts to use the possibility of legal threats to dictate terms of engagement w/ media to fandom, the Marion Zimmer Bradley myth, etc).

Fanfic does not look like it does without the broader fandom cultures and trends around it. It does not look like it does without the massive popularity of various romance genres and some very popular SF/F. It does not look like it does without any number of other social and cultural forces that are also extremely modern in the grand scheme of things.

The formal argument is just so completely ahistorical and obliviously presentist in its assumptions about art and generally incoherent that, sure, it's nicer when people present it politely, but it's still wrong.

#this is probably my most pretentious fanfiction defense squad post but it's difficult to express in other terms #like. people talking about ao3 house style (not always by name but clearly referring to it) as a result of fanfic as a form #and not the social/cultural effect of ao3 as a fandom space #you don't get ao3 house style without ao3 itself and you don't get ao3 without strikethrough and livejournal etc #and you don't get those without authors and corporations trying to exercise control over fic based on law (often us law) & myths about law #and you don't get those without distinctly modern concepts of intellectual property and copyright #none of those things have fuck all to do with form! #anghraine rants #fanfiction #general fanwank #long post #thinking about this partly because the softer & gentler versions of fanfic discourse keep crossing my dash #and partly because i've written like 30 pages about a playwright i adore who was just not very good at 'original fiction' as we'd define it #both his major works are ... glorified rpf in our context but splendid tragedies in his #and the idea of categorizing /anything/ in that era by originality of conception rather than comedy/tragedy/etc would be buckwild #ivory tower blogging #anghraine's meta