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#i! love! writing! conflict!
gummi-ships · 4 months
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mobius-m-mobius · 6 months
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#a man who DESERVES A SLICE OF PIE
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stealingpotatoes · 5 months
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dinluke making utterly zero sense but catching so much popularity is my favorite thing to exist ever
no no no this is slander it DOES make sense!! u gotta think, dinluke didn't get popular out of nowhere, they got popular after they canonically met. what 2 other things happened in this episode? 1. din's son going with luke to be a jedi and 2. din becoming mand'alor. you know what that leads to? 1. a reason for din and luke to continue to interact and 2. spicy conflict and a shitload of shared struggle. Din and Luke both have to lead/unite/help their disparate, genocided people, are both strongly devoted to their creeds, both fierce warriors willing to do a helluva lot to protect those they love, and like loaaaads more. they might seem pretty different on the surface but at their cores they rlly match up and share a very particular set of experiences and again HAVE REASON TO MEET REPEATEDLY
and that'd be enough on its own but then you have that against their peoples' ancient feud and bam you have some romeo and juliet spiced in there. and w that, even if you ignore the mand'alor stuff you still have their devotions to their religions (+ w that the conflict of intimacy and want and din's helmet/the old code getting in the way), din knowing NOTHING abt famous hero luke and ofc din actively trying to avoid being the main character vs luke being the Most main character ever. its just. im normal abt them
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p4nishers · 6 months
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what i absolutely adore about mobius is that he never stops being kind. EVER. he has gone through so much and no matter what happens he always chooses kindness over anything else. we've seen him comfort strangers countless times without hesitation because he's just THAT good and he would never turn away from anyone in distress. even when he's clearly upset he's still kind enough to explain to victor what he's drinking and not even be annoyed at his constant interrupting but just say "hold on a second" in a gentle tone then focus on him again DESPITE EVERYTHING GOING ON to get him hot chocolate bc why wouldn't he do so? he doesn't question these actions because they come naturally to him, kindness is in his nature. why shouldn't he try to lighten the mood and be kind while they wait for their end? why shouldn't he reassure and comfort everyone around him while he's actively falling apart? these aren't questions for him bc he's at his core the kindest person in the show and he will always ALWAYS have time and space to be kind. god.
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Part two of that short comic i made for @garbagechocolate s really cool truth virus au
Y/N is angry and hurt but understands the situation and is worried for their friend. Also both Sun and Y/N have anxiety
Sun is having a time, thats for sure
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occidentaltourist · 4 months
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bbc: Some sweet #Silvacre content for your FYP ❤️
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dulcesiabits · 5 months
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your shadow under the illusory moon, p.2.
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summary: out of everything he's done in his life, it's his relationship with you that haunts lyney.
notes: 2k words, fic, first part, childhood friends au, spoilers for lyney's backstory, the first part has the most context for this fic
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Lyney has always believed in miracles.
In Sumeru, there’s a particular theory about a cat in a box. Until you open the box, the cat is caught in a state between life and death; in other words, it is both, at once. A living contradiction, a miracle of its own, as long as the box is closed and the truth is unknown. There are things in this world that require a similar layer of belief. Anything can be manipulated and falsified. Perspective can change the very nature of an object. Not everything that is as it seems.
Of course, there are patterns and rules to miracles. Like any good magician, Lyney knows all the right tricks to create the perfect stage for such a miracle to bloom. However, there’s also an element of randomness to any event, unpredictable factors that can change the course of a life.
The bouquet in his hands is one such factor. A simple collection of flowers, pink cyclamens and tender red columbines, tied together with a string. For the past few months, similar bouquets have appeared in his dressing room.
“You’re nervous,” Lynette comments.
He twirls the bouquet airily. “Why would I be? These are just… presents from a fan, after all.”
Lynette throws him an unimpressed stare. “Right. But it’s not just any fan, brother. I think it’s obvious from all of your little research that the person who sent these is–”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Lyney interrupts. His palms are clammy, and he carefully places the flowers back down on the table. “And if, and only if, they were the one to do this, I don’t think they’d be happy to see me.”
Lynnette purses her lips, but says nothing else. He knows what his sister is thinking, just from the unimpressed flick of her tail: he’s a coward. There’s nothing he can say to that when she’s right.
But how can he be brave when the person he has to face is you?
In rare moments alone, Lyney tumbles through his memories like a kaleidoscope, peering up at each brilliantly colored piece of halcyon days, long past. All of his most beautiful memories always involve you: his childhood friend, his first love, a fellow ragtag orphan running through the streets by his side.
You were the cleverest child on the streets, and Lyney had been honored to call you his friend. His favorite memories involve the summer, when you, he and Lynette would sneak down to the beach to roll up your pant legs and step into the surf, shrieking as it washed over your ankles. You would collect shells and set up crab traps, digging for mollusks and building elaborate castles that the tide would wash away.
On one such day, Lynette wandered off to check the crab traps, giving you and Lyney a few minutes alone. She had shoved him with her elbow, reminding him to make the most of the time she had generously allotted for him, ears twitching amusedly when he stammered and turned bright red.
Though Lynette always pushed him to make a move, at the end of the day, Lyney was delighted just to be by your side. You were his precious family, no matter the nature of your feelings.
“This is pretty,” Lyney murmured. He’s holding what looks like a drop of starlight in his palm, a smooth piece of red glass. The two of you had been digging through the surf for a little while now, searching for little trinkets and treasures. Mostly you and he would pick up shells, seaweed and odd bits and ends the water rolled in. On rare occasions, you might find a coin that someone dropped.
“It’s sea glass,” you informed him. “Broken glass bottles get worn down by the water and sand until they’re smooth like that.”
“You know so much,” he said admiringly. 
“I read about it,” you said. You beckoned him closer, then dropped another treasure in his palm, a piece of green glass. “You can have this. I thought you’d like it.”
He fingered the drops of sea glass in his hands. “We need another piece.”
“Why?”
“Because we need a third piece,” he said. “For you.”
You smiled, childish joy breaking across your face. “Really? Okay.”
“It’s like a miracle that we found these treasures today,” Lyney said. “Maybe we were meant to find them.”
You shook your head, and you have that look in your eyes: the one that made you look older than you really were. “There are no such things as miracles, Lyney. It was only a coincidence.”
You walked leisurely along the beach, your shoes in your hands, tracking footsteps across the soft sand. After a beat, Lyney hurried to keep up with you, his own footsteps like lovers next to yours. The tide would wash them away, but for now, these were proof that the two of you existed.
In hindsight, Lyney has always been a little jealous that you can look at the world in the way you do. To you, everything is neat and simple. You only believe in what you can see, and once explained to him that there are rules, patterns and calculations that govern the world. The truth is a single immovable force. There are no miracles or contradictions.
“What you see is what you get,” you had said. “You can only trust your eyes.”
But that’s where you’re wrong, he thinks. There are countless lies in the world, a bevy of facades and mirages and deceptions. Even the truth is never quite so simple. 
After Lyney was forcibly separated from you, his days dulled, colored with desperation and fear.
The noble that took him and Lynette in would never let him see you. In that house, he was kept on a tight leash. Freedom was always just out of his grasp, hindered by watching eyes and hidden threats.
“You can’t associate with orphans like that anymore. But if you do well, perhaps I can take your friend in, too,” the noble purred.
A lie, of course, but he had been young and desperate and naive. And then Lynette was stolen, and the noble murdered, and Father became their next caretaker.
“You have to let go of your past or you won’t survive,” she had warned. “The only family you have now is the House of the Hearth. I don’t want to hear talk of this friend again.”
And yet, Lyney clung to you desperately. Throughout the training. Throughout the cold, bitter nights. Throughout the distrust and the initial bullying. The memories of your time together provided warmth that he held tightly to his chest like a star. As long as he could get through this, then he could see you again. Everything would be made right with the world, and it would no longer feel as if his chest was being torn to shreds every second he was away from you.
Lyney needed leverage, a plan. No, he needed a miracle. Because only those with power had the right to do what they wanted in the world. Hadn’t he learned that, time and time again?
“Father, there’s someone I know that would be an invaluable asset to the Fatui,” he posited, once he had enough successes under his belt for Father to find him useful. “They’re clever, and skilled with their hands.”
Father smiled thinly. “And are you asking me this for my sake, or yours? Not just anyone can become a Fatuus. Could they survive here?”
He had bit his lip so hard he tasted blood.
 Because how could Lyney do that to you, for his own selfish desire to keep you close? He couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering from injuries that were so common in their line of work, of never knowing whenever this would be the night you wouldn’t make it home, of you always living despised by the people around you, just for who you had to associate with to survive.
And worse. What if you were sent off to someone like Dottore, who treated his underlings like pawns and experiments? 
You had built your own life, from what little he had heard. Information about you was ferreted out in coincidences. To investigate you directly would be to put a target on your back, so he could only hear snatches of your name through association with the more important people and places around you. Last he was told, you worked at the Fontaine Research Institute, and had made a decent name for yourself as a mechanic. Could he rip you away from the tranquil life you had created, and thrust you into a place like the Fatui?
“Why don’t you just talk to them, Lyney?” Lynette had asked once. “Enough of these games.”
“And what if they don’t want to see me, Lynette?”
She sighed, and he dipped his head.
He’s a coward, but Lyney can’t touch you with his bloodstained hands. He doesn’t deserve to love you anymore, because of the things he has done– of the things he will do, for Father’s sake. You live in the sunlight, and he lives in the shadows cast by your light.
Lyney finds himself thinking of you when he wanders into a little trinket shop one day. There are rows of handmade bookmarks, and the sight of it reminds him of how you used to always have your nose buried in a book. On a whim, he buys one, keeping it tucked in his pocket like a secret, a connection that tethers the two of you together.
Maybe if things hadn’t gone so horribly wrong, he would be by your side right now. The two of you would live in a little home together, and be a real family again. 
But dreams were just that: dreams. In the end, there are some miracles even a magician can’t make true.
When Lyney steps into the dressing room and he comes face to face with you for the first time in years, his mind goes blank.
You watch him like a wary animal, and his breathing quickens in his chest. He can’t do this. Not now. Not ever. The years are cruel, because even though you’re older and more tired, he can still find traces of the friend he once knew more intimately than his own self. 
“Why, hello there. Are you a fan? I didn’t expect to see someone back here,” he finds himself saying. Even off the stage, Lyney finds himself slipping into a mask. He watches himself from an audience seat, performing a part for you.
Have you been okay? He wants to beg like a child. Have you been safe? Has anyone hurt you? But none of those thoughts pass his lips throughout your conversation with him.
When your attention wanders, it’s easy enough for Lyney to carefully spirit away your bag, and, with shaking hands, slide his bookmark into it. 
When you turn to go, he can’t help himself. “Did you enjoy today’s show?” Lyney asks.
“I could understand why people like your magic shows so much.”
“But do you like them?”
You tilt your head, considering his question like you would a math equation. “Well, I don’t really believe in magic. But I appreciate the effort and the logistics behind each trick.”
“I’m glad, then.” A knot of tension loosens in his chest. It’s confirmation of what he’s known, from searching for you in the crowds for the past few weeks when he first realized you had been showing up at his shows: that despite everything, you were still watching him. His first audience member, and the most precious one. “Have a nice night.”
When you’re gone, Lyney collapses onto the dressing room table, hands shaking as he grips the wood, so hard his knuckles turn white. Your bouquet remains, and he brings the petals to his face, breathing in the fading fragrance.
There are things in this world that can never be truly repaired or forgiven, like how a shattered bowl will always bear memories of its cracks, or some animals hold grudges for the rest of their lives, remembering the face of their tormentors. 
But Lyney believes in miracles. In the unexpected, in the unpredictable, in the contradictory nature of the world. And one day, maybe a miracle will bring him back to your side.
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morroswaterbowl · 9 months
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behold greenflower but theyre in my ninjago movie au
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Lloyd found a stick bug and wanted to show it to Brad (he doesn't know Brad is scared of insects)
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paintingformike · 1 year
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can we stop pretending the writers didnt know the implications of portraying the depth of will’s feelings for mike in the same season as mike struggling to tell el he loves her...like they arent that dense they knew what they were doing when they made these two plot points coincide 😭
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diazsdimples · 12 days
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What are the feelings here guys do I write a Bucktommy bringing their baby home from the hospital fic or will I be taken out by an assassin
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carmyboobear · 2 months
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CARMY X READER ENJOYERS I need ur input
I wanna write a rly dysfunctional fic abt a relationship between you, a chef working at the beef (for maximum distress) and carmy (YOUR BOSS!!!) im thinking friends with benefits, messy emotions, angry sex, just a gigantic traumatic clusterfck
What do u guys wanna see from a messy carmy fic like this?? I’m trying to come up with scenes and meat for plot but I want some outside input
For example here are some scenes I vaguely have in mind
Carmy being rly mad and arguing with you and you argue back and shut him up by giving him a blowjob in the back (LMFAO)
You doing a REALLY good job at handling the chaos of a day in the kitchen and he is like “come to the back for a reward” and he gives you head
Taking a smoke break with him in the back after saying just the WORST things to each other in the kitchen. Maybe you will make out. Who knows
You and carmy usually argue but one day he makes you cry and then he feels really bad
It’s sort of an enemies to fuckbuddies/friends to lovers situation and you guys bring out the worst in each other because…it’s fun to explore!
Anyway yeah if y’all have any thoughts on it PLS HMU whether it’s in dms or my inbox!!
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fromtheseventhhell · 3 months
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Arya and Dany stans: *discuss the likelihood that they'll have a positive relationship given their parallels, foreshadowing, status as key characters, and being two of George's favorite characters*
Stansas: Is this Sansa shade?
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I think it's hilarious that Stansas got mad at me for (accurately) pointing out that they accuse Arya and Dany stans of being motivated by Sansa hate simply because...we get along and like both of them lol. The idea of them getting along is about their characters and has nothing to do with Sansa. Just because they pit Dany and Arya against each other for Sansa's sake doesn't mean we're motivated by the same thing. Are there some conversations that bring up Sansa + Arya's strained relationship? Absolutely, that isn't baseless in the books considering they're written as foils and George has already said they have issues they need to work out. The "Stark sisters 4ever" fantasy they have is just that, and it's funny we never see this same energy for Arya being turned into a prop for her sister 🤔. Sisterhood didn't stop Sansa from siding with Joffrey, telling Cersei that Arya was a traitor (even though she had no idea where Arya was), or calling Arya unsatisfactory when she thought that she was dead so why are we supposed to pretend it's an all-important factor when discussing Arya's potential relationships with other characters?
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crow-with-a-pencil · 1 year
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@naffeclipse
Them ❤️
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I've been thinking about how Vash always seems to be hungry. Or at least, that he's shown eating quite often in the manga. Happily having his salmon sandwiches. Eating an entire box of donuts in the side car. Knowing the conversion rate of bullets to pizza. Seeing a flower and immediately wondering if it's edible. Pondering his life over breakfast. It's a really cute little character detail about him - he likes food.
But then I kind of started to think about the angel arm and its specific brand of destruction. How there were no bodies to be recovered. Nothing but a crater left of July, left on the Fifth Moon. It's all been incinerated. Devoured, even. Tristamp takes it even a step further and makes the power something akin to a black hole - a yawning drain; a constant destructive hunger.
Vash is clearly terrified of this potential for destruction, and for very good reason. But it's not separate from him as some kind of "power he can't control" - it's his arm. It's literally his arm. It is him. Vash is scared of himself, scared of losing control. He does what he can to repress it, even subconsciously (the gaps in his memory whenever it activates). He can't control it in the moment, so he takes steps to preemptively push it down, to avoid the use of his abilities entirely, to hide himself away.
I talked a bit in a previous post about how there are probably several interrelated reasons for Vash's chronically avoidant behaviour, but I'd like to throw one more into the ring and suggest that it's not just a matter of not deserving to want things, but maybe also that he's afraid of wanting. That if he allows himself to even think about what he wants personally that he'll want too much, take too much, and that the only cure in his mind for this is to give and give repeatedly.
I wonder how starved he is for love. Vash loves hard, after all. Once he loves (and I’m not talking about the broad, distant love/compassion he has in general), for better or worse, he carries them around with him forever, long after they've passed. Does he feel like it'd be selfish to admit this kind of want? His love isn't really a passive thing after all - it's the drive at his very core; a mournful inferno he is just barely suppressing. Does he remember how to love in a way that doesn't consume him entirely?
Is that part of the reason he checks out at signs of intimacy? Diverts gifts towards others? Tends to accept kind gestures only when under an assumed name? Intentionally starves himself in Tristamp? Runs and runs and runs? Is he afraid he won't be able to stop hungering? That allowing himself to want means his want will become insatiable?
I just have to wonder how much of his avoidance of connection is being scared that he will cause more destruction (to them? or to him?) by trying to take far too much into his hands than he ever caused by turning his back and running.
...of course I may just be entirely deranged here sorry.
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kyouka-supremacy · 9 months
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So no sskk?
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kittyoverlord · 3 months
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This scene really spoke to me as someone who converted to Judaism. To be fair, I wasn't raised religious at all, so I don't know what it's like to leave one faith and move to another, but I still have thoughts!
I connected with Judaism because of it's emphasis on questioning and doubt, and this exchange also illustrates another key aspect of Judaism that I really identify with - following mitzvot/commandments because it does good right now for yourself and others, not due to some fear of eternal damnation. (that kind of philosphy doesn't work as well in a world where Heaven and Hell are confirmed as real planes lol.)
I also recently took a class (shout out to The Unyeshiva) that focused on the history of Jewish converstion. One thing from that class that I've been thinking about specifically in relation to Kristen's journey is different methods of proseletyzing.
The rabbi said we tend to picture xtian missionary groups that are pushy and make people uncomfortable - "Convert or you'll burn in hell." But there are ways to share information and offer one's faith to others as an option without making it a requirement - such as holding an intro to Judaism class or inviting friends to Jewish celebrations - which could still be considered proseletyzing in a way. She said the idea is: there are some people who would be happier practicing Judaism than not, and if we do some outreach those people are more likely to find Judaism, but not everyone will want to be Jewish and that's ok.
I'm not sure how much Ally is intending to work Jewish philosophy into Kristen's character arc, but I love being able to chew on the subtext anyway. Considering Kristen literally needs to convert a bunch of people to her religion ASAP I'm interesting in seeing how she decides to go about that.
I hope Kristen's journey works out and she and Cassandra are able to make amends. I also get angry at G-d, but at least I'm not in danger of destroying my entire religion because of my frustrations...
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