#yall better write more if you don't want me to take over ao3

[blossoming-sun]

i wrote some more stuff

y'all better watch out 2 more months and half of the pj masks tag will just be my madness

#pj masks #pj masks fanfic #pj masks an yu #pj masks gekko #pj masks catboy #pj masks night ninja #yall better write more if you don't want me to take over ao3

[infernothechaosgod]

you know it truly amazes me how you can't do practicly anything on tiktok or search the thing you like without getting absolutley shat on

Like I'm feeling a little in the mood for rottmnt angst A lil bit of that kick in the gut, and I can't go 3 minutes without one of those made in 5 minutes max videos that's just background video and text over it Saying shit like "Yall need to stop with the rottmnt angst it's getting annoying" or "the rottmnt angst artist need to chill out" or even better "The rottmnt fandom needs to stop the angst it's just a show for kids"

First off, if angst isn't your thing, you can block it or just scroll pass it OR you know what if youre feeling like a little shit you can hate read it or whatever but keep the comments TO YOURSELF

Second off I checked what the content of most of these people is And it's always goddamn always those 10 second background videos with text over it

nothing more

I dare these people to even try to draw the shape of leo's head, or write out something more than 40 words I accualy dare them. do it.

Also the same goes for shipping over there

Let's say you see a legal completly normal ship you don't like Example let's say leo x usagi or raph x mona

What you wanna do is scroll or block it

NOT make up info to make others stop shipping it, I'm sick and tired of people non stop saying that usagi or mona are adults or that their entire characters are being love intrest in the fandom's eyes Because if you look at any of the fanfic's or fan content of those Yeah it's easy to find content where there love intrest's but it is hard to find content where there ONLY love intrest

People love mona so much for the fact that she's a badass warrior who loves her planet and people they often give her more backstory focused stories that explore how she would feel depending on where the writers story will go or already went, I have never seen anyone maker her just a typical love intrest (witch honestly suprised me)

Usagi? People have more free will with his interpretation's so he has many many diffrent faces backstories, personalities but often people make him focused on something in their stories, examples being, getting back home, protecting others, getting over something, fighting in battle nexus and exploring how it would be Etc. Etc. That mixed with being a love intrest

The only times when these two can be seen as just love intrest and nothing more is in

Edit's/tiktok content where everything is short af (and even then sometimes people give em backstories and their own lore it really amazes me sometimes lmao)

short (usualy) tagged as fluff without plot fics on ao3 (witch you can litellary tag out SO easily)

Little comics/some art pices That HAVE VERY STORT LIMITS

also this might suprise you it really might but DRAWING IS HARD AND TAKES ALOT OF TIME SAME GOES FOR MAKING THE IDEA UP

And when it comes to their ages we all know there not adults, littelary where did anyone mention mona being an aduly ever, and the only times when usagi and leo accualy interact is when there in similiar if not the same ages

(in 2003 usagi and leo are close friends and Both teens, in the early comics there both adults when they first meet, even in 1987 version there both shown to be close if not the same age, the ONLY TIME where leo and usagi have very diffrent ages is in 2012 and honestly i have a little theory on why specificly that version had them be you know that but that's for another post)

Seriously what the fuck is tiktok's problem with any form of fanon content? You want the fandom to die? It aint gonna happen, you either get used to some bad stuff existing there and there and ignoring it (reporting then ignoring it if it's really bad) OR you keep quiet OR you will get banned by alot of creators after crying in their comments, then cry when you can't find something they made anymore

Tiktok man, good for daydreaming to the sounds, looking at edits and for some art trends but litellary can't let anything else exist on there or else you'll explode

(Also I bet if some of the fanon angst made it to the accual show they would deepthroat that shit right up and call it writing of ceuntry)

#rottmnt #rottmnt angst #rottmnt fandom #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raphael #rottmnt mikey #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #tmnt fandom #rottmnt leosagi #rise leosagi #leosagi #raph x mona #mona lisa tmnt #rottmnt usagi #rottmnt mona lisa #tmnt usagi #rant post

[chickenkupo]

Just My Luck - Chapter 2

Summary: As Wriothesley and Neuvillette continue their sensual activities, more starts to develop about his current situation and steps moving forward. What's this about the claim law? Why is he having to meet with other people? One final return to his land? A single wish?

Wait, he didn't ask for this choker!

Recommendations: Kinda obvious, but I highly suggest reading the first work under this, Just My Luck, for more background and spicy scenes.

Warnings: General audience, some hints of spicier scenes, but this is building up to more *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*. Neuv is possessive as always, and it gets even worse here, so if you're not into that, this isn't for you. Religious tones, cause they're gods and all that. Consent? Pfft, you're happy here, don't worry about it. This has not been beta-read, this is shit from my head that I was like damn, I kinda wanna write that and yall seemed to like the last one so here's the next part. As promised, this will be a Tumblr exclusive for a few days, until I get back from my convention. It will then be posted on AO3, probably late Sunday, so if you follow me on there, if you want you can leave a kudos, comment, random recipe, idgaf, just enjoy it.

Also, this is hilariously long again, and I'm writing this THE NIGHT BEFORE I FREAKING LEAVE FOR MY CONVENTION WHEN I SHOULD BE CON CRUNCHING MORE GRRRRRR MY BRAAAAIN

Enjoy :D

Time was lost upon Wriothesley as him and the hydro god Neuvillette shared many more intimate moments, wrapped up in each other and exploring every inch of their bodies. Hours, days, or even weeks could have passed for all he knew. The moment that he would pass out from pure bliss, he would awaken only to be fucked again by the god, repeatedly, either quick repeated sessions, or long and sensual ones. Regardless, he would be completely lost to his senses either way. The two would only take breaks to either make sure that Wriothesley was well nourished or needed to be freshened up. At first, Wriothesley still held a small sense of apprehension to the situation at hand, but once he started to repeatedly lose himself to pleasure, his body and soul almost seemed to ache and crave more from his newfound god and owner. What was once slight resistance turned into complete acceptance, and Neuvillette was more than willing to indulge.

This morning, however, was much different from the rest. Instead of being woken up by coaxing hands, or a long, draconic-like tongue caressing his body all over, Wriothesley instead awoke, wrapped up in the smooth, silk sheets of their bed, completely alone and without that damned draconic tongue running up and down his body, or his sharp claws tracing his muscles and leaving behind a light red, possessive trail. Instead, his body was well rested, no marks marring his body that he could see, and he knew for a fact that before half of this divine room had been put in a state of disarray with their brutal love making, but upon viewing the room once his eyes focused from his previous state of sleep, he saw that the room was utterly spotless and was in the same condition he found it in, as if nothing had ever happened.

Confused, Wriothesley raised himself to sit up, slowly, wincing as he took his time moving his limbs and settling himself at the edge of the bed. In an odd sense, Wriothesley took comfort in the soreness that he felt all over, it was a sure symbol that he didn’t dream up any of their interactions, blushing as he started to slowly remember certain memories of their coupling, of the moans, growls, begging…

Yeah, he needed to stop there before he had another problem to take care of. Blushing deeper, he realized that he was completely nude and scrambled to grab the soft sheets of the bed and draped it over himself to hide his body. Though at this rate the hydro dragon surely knew his body in detail, probably better than he himself knew it, he didn’t want to run the chances of someone entering and seeing himself in such a state. After taking a moment to mentally prepare himself, he stood up with the sheets draped over and around his body, his muscles protesting lightly at his movements. Since there was still no other presence with him, he decided to review his surroundings, he supposed that it wasn’t every day that a human such as himself would be claimed by a god and brought to their heavenly home, so ought as well to see what this god collected. If the stories he heard as a child were true about dragons, he was sure to see some treasures the likes of which the eyes of man may have never seen before.

As he started to explore bookshelf after bookshelf, he found all sorts of trinkets ranging from golden cased scrolls, to tablets with odd writings of a language long forgotten, to even fragments of broken weapons that seemed as ancient as time itself. Wriothesley was tempted to touch these artifacts, but somehow, he could sense a pulsating energy from all of them, and he wasn’t really in the mood to test what kind of reaction they would have with him if he made any sort of contact. Continuing onward, he observed rows of books in countless different languages, paintings that adorned the walls that depicted scenes, he assumed, were of different events in history, all intricately detailed and almost seemed to weave into each other, as if it were a giant storybook come to life. His eyes widened as he walked up to the last piece of art, gripping the sheets that were hugging his body tightly to his person, heart racing as he tried to process what he was seeing.

The portrait that stood before him was a realistic painting of Neuvillette, perfectly depicted in the same robes Wriothesley saw when he was first ushered to this place, standing in front of a watery throne within a court with a masked audience around him. Neuvillette’s arm extended with his clawed hand grasping a long, beautiful, jeweled chain, embedded with gorgeous glimmering gemstones of black, grey and white, that connected to a choker on the individual that was in front of him. That figure that stood before him was wearing the choker, had very similar black and grey hair, scarred skin and wore robes which matched the colors of the choker, and just as magnificent as the robes that Neuvillette wore. It was undeniable that the person in the portrait was himself, and that struck fear into his very being. His mind couldn’t comprehend what the picture meant, and he didn’t want to stay and find out. All the euphoria that he experienced when having endless sex with Neuvillette before seemed to fade from his mind as panic started to arise. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to do, he had no idea the layout of where he was at now, no telling how many gods were likely just around the corner to capture him and bring him back to the hydro dragon god.

Right as Wriothesley was about to turn around and debate thinking of escape plans, he felt familiar arms wrap around his torso from behind, pressing him against a very familiar, slim but chiseled chest, lips pressed against his neck, delivering light kisses. Wriothesley sighed as he relaxed into the grip, cuddling his head closer to the one assaulting his neck, now with nipping love bites. Previous thoughts eluded him as his body started to readily accept the familiar touches of his god, knowing its home and proper place before his mind did.

“Mm...” the dragon rumbled; lips felt against Wriothesley’s neck in a smirk. The dragon was pleased, Wriothesley’s body already being trained so well to respond to him and know who owned him. The claimed man let out a small moan, a call that was all too familiar with Neuvillette. His claimed wanted more, and only from him. Normally, he would be swift to take the two of them to bed and continue to ravage his body. However, more important matters were at hand. Though, the dragon couldn’t resist, his clawed hands pulling at the fabric that was wrapped around his claimed, lowering it so that more of his toned chest and abs were exposed, of which his hands continued to explore and grope, possessively.

As Neuvillette continued to overstimulate Wriothesley by giving his neck and torso attention, there was a sudden sound of a clasp being locked, and Wriothesley felt an odd sensation around his neck that felt much too still to be the one he was familiar with, as the dragon’s tongue would be massaging it by now and licking up and down, leaving wet, possessive trails behind. No, this, this felt like a collar…a…

“Choker…?” Wriothesley managed to grunt out, trying to break the haze that was in his mind like a fortified fortress.

The arms that were wrapped around him let him loose, a hand still placed on his back for support as the powerful hold that was placed on Wriothesley to keep him distracted was suddenly lifted. The man staggered forward a bit, regaining his senses and control, as his hands immediately reached up to his neck to feel the chained choker that was securely placed, and not moving an inch, no matter how hard he tried to remove it. The force he put on it didn’t even affect the light pressure it gave as a constant reminder that it was there. No, the choker refused to harm him in any way, but it also refused to release him.

Wriothesley looked around the room and noticed a long mirror that was placed on one of the walls, of course elegantly decorated, almost overly so. He quickly ran over and took note of his appearance, hands still tightly grasped around that which was currently binding his neck. As it was in the painting, so it was in person. The same exact collar was dressing the skin of his neck, with a chain leading off that appeared to fade into thin air at about the third or fourth link down, as if it weren’t even fully part of reality.

As if sensing his confusion, Neuvillette gently tightened his hand into a firm grip, and there in his grasp was more of the chain that directly connected to Wriothesley that suddenly took on full physical and solid form with the added tension from the god, tugging ever so slightly on it. Instantly, Wriothesley felt a gentle pull towards Neuvillette, glaring at him. Neither had to exchange words for them both to understand that each knew what this meant, though the claimed did have a remaining question for the god.

“How far? How far are you able to do that from?” Wriothesley asked, trying to growl his words out to give some form of intimidation, but it only came out in a feeble whimper, of which he was embarrassed, but nothing he could do about that now.

Neuvillette, in response, offered him a wide, handsome smile, the light within the room bouncing off his figure, as helping him to gloat about his omnipotence.

“There is no world too far, no heaven too high nor hell too deep, where you won’t be connected to me.”

The look of finality in Neuvillette’s eyes gave Wriothesley the horrific assurance that the hydro dragon god was not lying, could he even lie to Wriothesley? There was no sense of escape from him, and it even felt down in his core that the sooner that he accepted this, the sooner he could live.

Wriothesley turned back to his mirror image, looking at the newly formed bruises on his neck and how they were already beginning to fade. He could only imagine the sorts of changes his body had undergone, having been in the realm of the gods for so long now, and having exchanged bodily fluids with a god, himself. Though, one scarring did remain, the night of the first claiming when Neuvillette bit him, the scars from that bite persisted, never healing, only shown off in emphasis by the choker, as there was a wide circular gap on the exact spot of the bite scars, as if to blatantly show any idiot that dared show interest that Wriothesley was taken, by one the highest level of divinity existing.

There wasn’t much that Wriothesley could ask his god next, but the obvious.

“Well, what do we do now? What else are you going to do to me?” asked Wriothesley, looking at the god in question, his arms closing in on himself to try to make himself smaller, subconsciously.

Neuvillette simply stared at him for a moment, taking in his somewhat ruined form. The sheets were barely hanging onto his claimed now and though the bruises were beginning to fade, their presence was still there. A sense of satisfaction emitted from Neuvillette in the form of a low rumble of approval. There would be no questioning his ownership of Wriothesley now, and if anyone dared, they would be met with the fury of an enraged god, and no one would be there to save them.

After looking over Wriothesley for a little longer, Neuvillette finally decided to answer his question.

“I believe it would be nice for you to get acquainted with other claimed from your homeland of Fontaine. It will do you some good to hear from others in your same, albeit a small bit, different situation. From there, I will grant you one last visit to your old lands, and one final request before you are spirited away back here, to your new home for good, as the claiming law permits. Meeting and conversing with these individuals may help you come to a decision.” Neuvillette stated, not his face not giving way to any emotion, as his gaze was directly on his claimed, observing.

At the mention of having one last visit to his home, Wriothesley’s eyes lit up, only to simmer back down once Neuvillette made it very clear that this is a one and done sort of situation. There will be no going back after the allowance, no returning. His body even felt like it was repulsed by the idea of returning to a world that was so harsh to it, constantly in some sort of pain, suffering or form of anxiety. It craved the warmness of the skies here, the fulfillment that his god would constantly bring him, no worries in the world, only bliss and contentment in this new world that he still barely understood. But his mind, his mind knew that he needed to check in on his adoptive family one last time, the love he had for family fiercely flowed through him.

“Right…when will this meeting take place, then? I doubt presenting myself in my current state would be appropriate.” Wriothesley said rather carelessly, letting his thoughts flow freely.

At the mention of others taking view of his body like this, Neuvillette growled, fiercely, his eyes lighting up in a fit of jealously. No one was to view his claimed like this, ever. This was a treat, a blessing, that Wriothesley could only bestow to him and him alone.

“H-Hey! I said I wouldn’t! Tch-!” Wriothesley cried out in frustration, holding the sheets even more tightly to his body, a blush appearing on his cheeks. The thought of a god wanting him like this and becoming so possessive made him feel embarrassed in a way, but he did delight in it a bit, that he would not deny.

“Do not even fathom such events in your mind, or speak them into existence. You are my claimed, by my right. No one is viewing you like this but me. Do you understand, Wriothesley?” Neuvillette asked, his hand raised and once more held into a tight fist, pulling the chain to give a noticeable tug.

Wriothesley jerked forward a bit, catching himself, as he began to look up and glare at Neuvillette, but simmered down once he saw the fury in the dragon’s eyes. A chill went down his spine, noting that his own existence could be extinguished like a simple afterthought, if Neuvillette so deemed it. Instead, he bowed his head in respect.

“I-I apologize, it won’t happen again, I was out of line for even speaking of that.” Wriothesley admitted, a part of him hating that he was displaying such a level of submission, but at the very core of his soul, he knew that this would be the new normal for him.

“You will be meeting with them this afternoon. I will have my servants come and deliver your clothes. You are to either remain under the sheets in the bed or go to an adjoining room until they are done delivering your garments. From there, they will lead you to where you need to go. I will remove myself from the situation, so that your final request will come more clearly to you without my influence.” Neuvillette stated, but spoke no further after that, waiting for Wriothesley to respond.

“Alright then, I suppose...? How do I address you now, anyway, given our set of circumstances?” Wriothesley asked, in genuine curiosity.

Without a moment of hesitation, Neuvillette offered a simple reply.

 “Husband. You may call me your husband, dear wife.”

•

•

•

Wriothesley couldn’t believe his eyes, once the servants of demigods and lesser gods left him to his own devices, having delivered him to an elegant garden outside of what appeared to be a giant mansion. He spent a decent amount of time wondering about, taking in the sights of fauna that he had never seen the likes of before. Beautiful, blooming flowers, with petals so large they could be mistaken for giant leaves. Normally he’d be having a sneezing fit by now, but as he continued to walk through what felt like constant mazes of twists and turns, his nose never once started to sting or eyes starting to water. This place was perfect, too perfect.

It didn’t take long before he came to a more open section of the garden, with silver tables strewn about, plates of pastries, coffees and other fine assortments on small serving platters at each. He expected for such a place to be quite crowded, but instead it appeared that there were only a handful of others, and from their lack of a powerful aura, as well as similar spectacular adornments around their necks, that these must be the claimed that Neuvillette had mentioned earlier. He knew for certain that Neuvillette wouldn’t have let him wonder about and encounter anyone that he wasn’t supposed to.

Wriothesley, nervously, adjusted the tie of his suit, making sure that it hung lazily around his neck. He was never the one to be dressed so fancily, and although he enjoyed the colors of the suit that matched those of the binding choker, he still felt out of place. Simple rags and clothes were fine for him, but there was no way, especially now being a claimed, that he would be allowed to do such a thing anymore. He’d simply have to get used to all the abundant elegance, as much as it currently annoyed him.

“Monsieur! Monsieur! Are you the new claimed from Fontaine? I simply must have a word with you, I have so many questions!” A lively voice giggled at him from a table near where he was standing. Looking over, Wriothesley took note of a young woman with long, lusciously curled blonde hair and the brightest, peppiest blue eyes he had ever seen, and a face with slight makeup that accented everything beautiful about her. A light breeze picked up, as she made a struggling sound, trying to keep her heavily decorated hat atop her head, her gorgeous amber and black coded dress moving in the breeze with her. Though women weren’t his taste, he would be a fool to not admit that she was stunning, with such a kind and playful charm.

A light tugging could be felt around his neck, a clear warning. Wriothesley mentally sighed to himself, growling in his mind that he could appreciate the appearance of someone without it being a threat. The tightness subsided, but slowly. His husband was a rather jealous god, wasn’t he?

“Here! Let me get that for you!” Wriothesley cried out as he reached for it, but the young woman was able to hold the hat back down to her head just in time, swatting away his hand with a simple motion, making sure to not make any physical contact with him.

“Oh, no, it’s fine! I appreciate the gesture for help, though. You’re new here but I’m sure you already know that our gods are rather…peculiar about who is allowed to touch their claimed, and mine is certainly no different. I’m honestly surprised they agreed for us to have such a private, introduction with each other! So, less chance of angering them, the better, you know?” The young woman giggled, with a bright smile. She didn’t seem phased by any of the situation or upset in the slightest. In fact, her eyes started even shining more brightly as she picked up a small macaroon from the serving tray, happily munching on it.

“Ah! Where are my manners?! I apologize, when I see sweets, my mind tends to wander!” The young woman cleans her hands off with a neatly woven napkin. “The name is Navia, Navia Caspar! Leader of the Spina di Rosula!” Navia giggled, with a slight bow of her head.

Wriothesley stared at her, almost in awe and with some slight confusion, as he tried to piece this information together. Navia took notice of this, her smile fading as there was a sense of concern growing within her that was quite evident. After Wriothesley took notice of her change in attitude, he cleared his throat as he took a sip of tea that had suddenly appeared, already poured for him. No doubt something that his husband was probably responsible for, in some sort of way. Especially since it was his favorite flavor, which just enough sugar and milk to soothe his nerves.

As he calmed down a bit, Wriothesley looked up at Navia’s worried eyes, and finally decided to speak on the matter. “Miss…Navia, I apologize. I didn’t mean to bring any sort of worry to you but, I’m going to be honest. I find it hard to believe what you told me, but your name matches and from what I remember hearing through stories as a kid I just…” Wriothesley sighed, as he continued. “The Spina di Rosula, that was an ancient organization, there’s not even that many texts about it, adults told us stories about the group, like they would be watching us from the shadows and if we were bad, they’d take us away. I didn’t think that you all were real…” continues, in awe and a tad bit of regret. It was probably best if he had just kept his mouth shut, but a part of himself felt like she deserved to know what he did.

Navia stared at him, almost in a glare, as if he were trying to offend her with such ridiculous information. But, as he continued to stare and notice that his reaction and words were probably genuine, her frown deepened as a part of her seemed to break out of whatever hold this realm seemed to establish on the claimed individuals.

“W-what do you mean…? Of course, we were real! Royalty of Fontaine hired us for information collection, bodyguard services! Kids didn’t fear us, they wanted to join us!” She yelled out, hands slamming down on the table, the goodies on the serving tray being moved ajar due to the outburst. Wriothesley merely sat back in a shocked expression, not saying another word and making the situation worse than what it was. Though, surprisingly, Navia seemed to gather herself, fixing her dress and hat, and sighing in defeat.

“I apologize for my outburst there. It’s not often that I meet people from my nation and I, I forget that time moves differently here. I truly do not know how much time has passed and I just assumed you might be from my period…” Navia explained, with a small, sad smile.

“Ah, no, it’s completely my fault and I apologize. I shouldn’t have just blurted all of that out like that, and I’m completely lost when it comes to the passage of time here. Do you have any idea how it works?” Wriothesley asked, hoping to step away from the sensitive topic, while also trying to get enough information out of her to come to some logical conclusion.

“No, I wish I did. Every time a new claimed comes, they’re from all different time periods, or even worlds. It’s been extremely difficult to try to keep up from and when we were. I’m sorry, I wish I could offer more help!” Navia stated, pure disappointment playing through her voice.

“No, no, don’t apologize.” Wriothesley stated, trying to wave off her statement, but taking note of the information, or lack thereof, that she provided. “Sorry, I came to this…place, with little to no information on how any of this works so I’m just trying to piece it together.”

“Ah! Well, that makes two of us! But sometimes you can’t help but just come to terms with it, you know? You were claimed, same as I, and well, this is our current world and maybe giving it all up for someone else to figure out for us isn’t so bad…” Navia began to trail off.

As she was about to continue their conversation, three other individuals started to walk forward towards their table, one more so rushing towards them than the other two.

“Ah, hello friends, welcome! What a magnificent day, wouldn’t you agree?” A young male’s voice rang out, as he took to taking the seat between Wriothesley and Navia, twisting a top hat in his hands, before tossing it into the air and catching it was ease, doing a little chuckle as he did so, obviously loving to show off.

“Really, brother? Must you be so insufferable as of late? The moment you hear of a new claimed from Fontaine, you absolutely go off the deep end…” Another voice of a young woman popped up, taking another seat closer to Navia, noticeably different from the rest as a pair of cat ears were poking out of her head, and a thin cat tail swooshing behind her in annoyance, her simple dress swaying in the slight breeze as well. A third, smaller, figure took the last seat between the two of them, in a simple suit and hat, keeping his head down, blushing lightly. “Brother…” the smallest one warned, while keeping rather reserved.

“Well, dear sister, it’s not every day that Monsieur Neuvillette takes an interest in anyone…in fact, I think this is the first time! Imagine that! The stoic judge, finally laying the law of claim down on someone. You truly must be extraordinary, Wriothesley!” The young man cheered, a devilish smirk plastered on his face, earning a gaze from his sister across the table.

“Lyney! You act like you’re so casual about the Iudex, show some respect!” She hisses, literally hisses at him.

“Wait, how do you know my name?” Wriothesley finally manages to speak up, looking at the trio. Navia stares at them as well, though a small fraction of a smile gives way that she knows more to the situation than he does.

“Well, duh! That’s our job! Father makes sure that we have information on just about everyone as soon as possible.” Lyney shrugs, as he leans back in his seat, looking at Wriothesley almost as if what he asked could have been taken as a joke.

“Wait, father…do you mean your god is like a father figure towards you three?” Wriothesley pressed, eager to learn more.

“Mn, that is correct. Not every claimed is under the same circumstances. For you and Navia, your gods chose you as spouses, or mates, and developed a strong relationship through that route of a bond. However, our father took pity on us, as we grew up on the streets of Fontaine as orphans, doing little magic shows or other various street performances to survive. Father kept attending our shows, and we managed to pique their interests. Wasn’t long after that when Father evoked the law of claim, and after appearing in court to Neuvillette, was approved not one, but three claims. It was a rare case, but Father is well, our father now, and strives to teach us about the world and give us the lives we never had, which we should be forever thankful for, right, brothers?” The young lady addressed the other two, having explained all of this to Wriothesley in a rather strict, and yet almost bored voice.

“Y-yes, Lynette…” The smallest boy stuttered out, still choosing to keep his head low, eyes refusing to meet anyone else’s. The boy might shatter if that managed to happen, giving how reclusive he seemed.

“Ah, my dear sister Lynette has such a way with words, doesn’t she?” Lyney states, almost in a dreamful manner, his performance personality surely shining through his every action, it seemed. “Now, let’s get to know you a little more, Wriothesley, plus I’m curious to know how Fontaine is doing here of late. I can only imagine a considerable amount of time has passed since we were claimed.” Lyney says, urging Wriothesley to share his story and any information he may have.

Wriothesley cleared his throat, after taking some more sips of the most delicious tea he’s ever had and tells them every bit of information that they requested of him, and more so. He tells them about the hardships he faced as an orphan with his abusive, adoptive family, how he strove to protect his adoptive brothers and sisters, and what lengths he went through to ensure their well beings. He continues, now adding in the information oh so graciously provided by Neuvillette, where the god had placed such a curse on him to ruin his luck, forcing him towards hardships to help build himself towards deserving a claim from him.

Navia frowns halfway through his story, giving him soft looks of pity, while the other three engage in further conversation.

“Ah, the mighty Iudex works in mysterious ways. A little tough in my opinion, but who am I to judge? Certainly not me towards the actual judge, that’s for sure!” Lyney chuckles, while his sister groans at his obvious attempt at a joke.

“W-Wriothesley…? Are you ready for one last back trip back…soon…?” The small, young boy managed to barely whisper out, but all of them were attentive enough to pay attention and listen, not urging him to speak louder or bring further attention to him. Navia and Wriothesley safely assumed that they were all lucky that he managed to speak at all, especially bringing up a question by himself without any pressuring.

“Is, is this normal? For people like us, I mean?” Wriothesley asked, looking at all of them around the table. All eyes were on him, with a sweet, understanding tone and yet, there was still a hint of sadness and awareness about something that he was dying to figure out.

“Surprisingly, yes, unless the claimed really made their god mad, or earned some sort of divine punishment. After making the claim official with the placing of a collar, necklace, or some sort of other way of marking around the neck, the claimed is usually granted one last visit to their homeland, and one wish while on that visit. Of course, it can’t be anything that would lead to a breaking of the bond, and if you tried to grant yourself distance with the wish from them, don’t bother. It’ll be a complete waste of time for the two of you. It’s already far too late to try to escape, consider this as one last mercy before your new life officially begins.” Lyney takes it upon himself to explain, the rest of them nodding in agreeance.

“Well, I suppose it’s no harm in telling.” Navia speaks up, as she continues. “For my wish, I wanted both of my bodyguards to have Clorinde’s protection while I was away, for as long as they lived. They both served me well in my mortal life, protected me and practically raised me since my parents died when I was still rather young. I spent one last day with them together, before I came home here. I do hope they had the best of lives, they deserved it and so much more…” Navia whispered her last statement, patting her eyes with her elegant napkin, but not in sadness. A wide smile and blush played on her face, clearly remembering the two of them fondly.

“Wait, so you weren’t able to look over them and watch them live their lives out?” Wriothesley asked, anxiety starting to brew within his soul. Everyone know that a claimed was taken out of their regular realm and into one of the divine, but it never fully registered in his mind what that meant, especially since this was the current scenario that he was facing.

Navia simply shook her head before she replied.

“No, our gods like to separate us from our old life, that way we won’t remember the pains and anguishes of the past. I can understand it, to a degree, but I do hate not being able to see what happened to those I care about. It’s part of the curse of the claimed, I suppose you can call it. We’re granted all this greatness, but we must give up our old lives for this new one.”

Wriothesley remained silent as the rest of them started to converse with themselves, about different subjects now, of times now in their new life that they shared, if they had seen that one old god fall down the stairs or see that snooty looking one get what they deserved at the end of the day. He wanted to listen in so badly, but his mind was riddled with questions, as the answers he received only made his drive for knowledge about all of this so much stronger.

It wasn’t until he lifted his head and saw how all of them were getting together, like one small little family.

Family.

They loved and had each other to rely on, to keep them company, to love and to teach each other. His heart ached as he thought for a moment that such an option for him didn’t exist now. Sure, he wasn’t into women, but that never stopped his want of having a family for himself one day, somehow. Sure, he could have a friend family through this Fontaine group, but a part of him wanted something more personal, his own to take care of, a hidden desire he had always had as a regular mortal.

He wanted his own family, would Neuvillette want one with him?

#genshin impact #neuvillette #wriothesley #wriolette #ao3 writer #neuvillette x wriothesley #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

[unforth]

I started to write this as a reply to @vex-verlain but realized it should be it's own post.

To be clear, this is about @end-otw-racism and why I support this movement (even if I don't agree with all their proposals).

I am profoundly anti-censorship. It has been one of my biggest personal issues my entire adult life. I will absolutely defend the speech rights even of people I think are utterly reprehensible, even the rights of people who want me and my family dead. I think their speech has a right to exist, full stop.

But.

Being anti-censorship in no way means being anti-moderation. I often see people who are pro-ship, anti-anti, or "too old to use a name for telling yall you're clowning" say that AO3 is supposed to be a safe space for WRITERS, not READERS, and that to me is one of the big ways that the current harassment and moderation policies are badly failing writers of color. There's no way to 100% protect all writers, period, on AO3, and to me it seems like a no-brainer that if the goal is "protect all speech, avoid all censorship, minimize harm to real people," the only way to accomplish all those goals it to have a really robust, well-moderated system that prioritizes reducing harassment - ALL harassment - without looking the other way on certain topics just because they're harder and thornier to sort through. A way to section the groups that are oil and water away from each other, through blocking, powerful filters, comment options, etc (some strategies we do have now, btw! They HAVE been adding functionality in this direction, but it's clearly not enough.)

Currently, protecting people who write bigoted shit is causing active harm to fans of color. We see the impacts of this harm constantly; I personally have seen many, many Chinese and Chinese diaspora fans driven out of white danmei fandom circles for all sorts of reasons, and if yall are in fandoms that often have bipoc in them I'm sure you've seen the same (and if you are in a fandom that doesn't have many bipoc it might be wise to take a moment and consider why it doesn't.)

I just really want more people to take a step back and ask themselves why they think an anti-censorship position necessitates an anti-moderation stance, and also why they think being pro-moderation is the same as being pro-censorship.

I defend the rights of bigoted shit to exist.

What I don't defend is the right of the people who create that stuff to weaponize it against vulnerable people.

Regarding AO3, I personally support a solution that involves some way of sectioning off the bigoted shit. I'm not sure exactly how that would work but I think some kind of major archive warning is a solid start. Also maybe a way of flagging authors who are frequent offenders. And to be clear...it's not my job or responsibility to know exactly how to accomplish this. I'm no expert. That's why I'm supporting a movement that explicitly says AO3/OTW SHOULD HIRE AN EXPERT. And I know it would be expensive...and I know many, many of us would donate to a funds drive to raise the money to cover that expense.

I've seen too many friends get profoundly hurt, and I'm so tired of (overwhelmingly white) fandom circles pearl clutching over this not being an issue, that the real problem is that this will lead to censorship of (checks notes) Nazi shit, spitefic, and the other dregs of fanfiction (which, again, has a right to exist! But God why are so many of y'all favoring IT over ALL THE FIC THAT WILL NOW NEVER EXIST BECAUSE BIPOC GET BULLIED OUT OF WRITING IT.)

It's clearly an issue.

And we have to speak up and demand better or it will continue to be an issue.

Please, please listen to the bipoc who've managed to not be driven out of fandom and understand that *things need to change,* which means, for us white folks:

1. A lot of listening to the people who've been harmed

2. Using our voices to amplify theirs

3. Standing up to bigotry we see in our fandom communities

4. Shutting up when they ask us to shut up

5. Checking our own behavior and doing our best not to be part of the problem, and, if and when we go awry, owning it with maturity and apologizing and doing our best to make amends and not repeat our mistakes

...and probably more but those are the first things to come to mind.

Please stop siding with people who've decided they are entitled to spew vile shit, stop prioritizing their writerly protection over the safety of equally valid writers who also deserve protection and are being targeted and hurt. All you do by siding with the assholes is amplify their voices while silencing bipoc and create a space that protects bigots. Is that REALLY the hill you want to fight on?

None of us know it all. We can all learn to do better. I'm personally here to learn, and listen, and improve.

And I'm here to shout from the rooftops that we can be anti-censorship and pro-moderation.

I am, and you should be too.

#unforth rambles #end racism in the otw #end otw racism #hi folks this white jew supports you #id like more tools for moderation too cause ive gotten a little antisemitic shit over the years #but thats not in the post cause this aint about me and its not really about judaism #and if we protect bipoc jews will have more protections too #there are so many reasons to support this guys #just cause yall cant imagine what better would look like doesnt mean better doesnt exist #demand better and expect better and be part of trying to make things better #i will never stop supporting all authors and right now doing that means protecting some of the most vulnerable #from some of the most heinous #i truly think we can develop better protections and maintain posting freedoms

[thoughts-of-a-trying-tree]

I posted 163 times in 2022

That's 151 more posts than 2021!

12 posts created (7%)

151 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sarah-sandwich

@the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see

@shipskicksandgiggles

@thoughts-of-a-trying-tree

@innovationoftransspider-man

I tagged 103 of my posts in 2022

Only 37% of my posts had no tags

#fic rec - 36 posts

#parkner - 25 posts

#omelet fic - 16 posts

#the tree speaks - 15 posts

#marvel - 11 posts

#transferred tags → - 8 posts

#spiderman - 7 posts

#spiderlad - 5 posts

#harley keener - 3 posts

#peter parker - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#omg.............. i will write these................... i will........................... number six will make me scream i will write these

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

commitment to a fic is when you change your emoji colors for the characters and forget to change them back

3 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

#4

lmao okay this is such a me thing to do but anyway

remember the announcement i was talking about? yk, the one i never spoke of again? yeah so..... i have an ao3 account!! super exciting, i can leave kudos twice (more if i try hard enough) and its been lovely overall, but ive moved all the fics that i like there (a grand total of four out of... more than four) and from here on out, all my fics will be published there a little earlier than theyre posted here, which some of yall may already know bc i linked it on marry me (teehee check it out lolsies) and its in my bio but!! i fuckin forgor!!! to announce the announcement!!

toodloo, i just wanted to make sure everyone knew!

3 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

#3

writing is just ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new-

8 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

#2

liability

word count: 836

warning(s): lots of angst, hurt with comfort, relationship issues, cursing, an argument

Read on AO3

-----------------------------------------------

Songs were something that could get caught in Harley's head easily, but conversations never stayed. They were too fleeting, too quick, and he was too spontaneous for them to ever even make sense, much less be remembered.

When he and Peter started dating, he tried desperately to hoard every word, to keep every cadence in his mind, because one thing he could remember were the lessons he learned and one he could never forget was that everyone left. He didn't want Peter to leave but that wasn't something he could control, so at the very least, he could make the memories stay.

And then Peter started leaving and leaving and leaving and coming back and leaving and every time he did, he would always remember another lesson he learned too young, the lesson that you have to leave before you get left.

It's like a song, that one cynical dance of words playing in his mind over and over, a background track to an argument he should've seen coming.

What the fuck are you doing to yourself? Can't you stop? For me?

It's not that easy.

You don't have to do everything you can do just because you can! Take a goddamn break, won't you?

I can't take a goddamn break, Jesus. Do you even hear yourself?

I don't think I'm asking for too much here. Oh, but he was, he was, he was.

You have to leave before you get left.

No, of course you don't.

See the full post

29 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

marry me

word count: 2712

warning(s): references to fics i've never written, cursing, dialogue heavy, and my brand of self-indulgence (also the word uwu is said. im so sorry)

Read on AO3

-----------------------------------------------

"Peach, toss me the wrench, would you?" Clang! "Thanks, and also the—" Clang! "Oh, yep, that's better actually." Bzzzzzzzt. "Perfect, marry me." Thwack! "I meant thank you!"

'*'*'*'

"Harleyyyy! HAAARLEEEEEYYYY!"

"What? Where's the invasion?" Slap!

"Pick your stupid fuckin' socks up! Tits and their respective gods, I have to do everything around here and there ain't no pay in New York Cit-ay."

"You could always marry me for tax benefits if you're that worried—"

"And pick your stuff up for the rest of my life? I would rather eat my shirt. Better not see anything in the lab!"

"Mhm."

"..."

"…"

Wham! "Harley Fuckin' Keener, why did you leave YOUR socks on MY stuff? Stop laughing!"

'*'*'*'

See the full post

62 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#marry me is my top<333 i love her #also i definitely did not “write these”........................................L O L #two of my top five are ME KJSNIWUXJNSJNX

[dex-xe]

Regarding the ficlet ideas :)

You don't have to do all or even any of these, these are just the things that popped into my head when I was scrolling through! Also if you want to write them romantically you do it, we love and support youuu!!!

Fluff: 7 (Mary and Robin, probably platonic) & 10 (Mary and Kitty, also probably platonic)

General: 18 (Julian and literally anyone, it'll be hilarious)

And General 45. With Alison and Cap (and maybe all the other ghosts) becuase I feel you'd write it really sweetly and honestly it's a scene I'd really like to see

Alison & Captain General #45: “Are you afraid to die?”

So there’s still one more prompt from this person (the Julian one) but I’m combining it with other ideas so expect that soon!! The others have also been done here:

Fluff #7

Fluff #10

But yeah,, this got no interaction at all on AO3 but that’s okay cause I actually really enjoyed writing this one there are some good lines I think. Let me know what you think either here on on AO3 I don’t mind. (Also there is a Doctor Who reference in here but I can’t remember which episode it’s from so if yall find it let me know XD)

TW:// in depth discussions of death.

The dark ceiling of Alison’s bedroom swirled in front of her as she listened to the soft rumbling of her husband’s snores beside her. The glowing red lights of her alarm clock served as a warning to her impending sleepless night: 2:15am.

Worries of life and family and the hotel and the unusual presence of 20 odd dead people inhabiting her home raced through her head as she begged for some kind of distraction from her thoughts. She tried not to set too many rules for the ghosts: whenever she did, they would work even harder to break every written order she laid down - and also every unwritten rule that common sense laid down. But one rule Alison was strict on was their nighttime curfew: do what you want around the house (as long as it doesn’t make too much noise, mess or irritance) but do not, under any circumstance, enter the master bedroom.

She’d originally given them the usual “only in emergencies” protocol but, after Robin had scared Alison out of bed at 4am having deemed a fat ginger cat on the front lawn an emergency, this had quickly been scrapped. But watching the dust flow through beams of moonlight while contemplating every life decision she’d ever made, the prospect of some inconceivable disaster interrupting the ghosts’ eternal deaths was seeming ever more pleasurable.

Alison sighed and sat up to look over Mike deep in sleep, jealous of his peaceful snoring. She swung off the bed being careful not to jostle the sheets but flinched at the freezing floorboards touching her bare feet. She tiptoed slowly through the empty corridors occasionally stopping to listen at the doors of the ghosts’ bedrooms: quiet snoring from Pat’s, mumbled sleep talking from Kitty’s, total silence on behalf of the others.

Every common room lay vacant, excluding Robin curled up in front of the dying fire, so Alison continued on to the kitchen - taking Nigel’s advice to fetch some milk when she’s stressed.

Upon entering the kitchen, she was taken aback to find it was not as empty as the rest of the house would suggest. Leaning back against the far tiled wall with his eyes shut and head resting back on the cold surface, the Captain looked as if he could be asleep standing upright. His eyes snapped open and settled straight on Alison frozen in the doorway. He blinked slowly before darting towards the corner of the room in his usual long-legged, gangly run.

“Captain?” Alison called as he turned away from her. “No, no! It’s alright!”

The Captain stopped. Still. Silent. In a moment of alarming quietness.

“Sorry for disturbing you, Captain. I’ll only be a moment!” Alison said quietly, making her way over to the fridge. “God, I hope Robin isn’t in here.” She pulled open the door with great gusto, fleetingly thrilled by the presence of broccoli, strawberry yoghurt, and half a pasta bake rather than the shouting menace of a caveman.

She shut the door with the milk carton in hand and turned to find the Captain still facing the wall, breathing heavily in what appeared to be a WW2 remake of the Blair Witch Project.

“You can just go back to… whatever you were doing, now,” Alison took a swig from the carton. “Plotting your latest hair-brained scheme to get rid of me?”

“Now, now, Alison,” the Captain said, turning back around to face her and swaying ever so slightly on his heels, stick gripped tight behind him. “I’m less inclined to dispose of you nowadays.”

“Yeah?” Alison raised her eyebrows with a knowing glance and took another sip. “Well, I appreciate that, Cap.”

“Hmm,” the Captain agreed.

“Why are you awake then? Are you awake or do ghosts sleep upright against a wall? Is this some mechanic I don’t know about? Do ghosts have to sleep?” Alison asked rapid fire.

“Of course we sleep! What did you think we do during the night?” The Captain pointed to Alison’s milk and frowned. “You shouldn’t drink it like that. That’s how disease spreads.

“It’s only me that uses it, just don’t tell Fanny, yeah?”

“Mum’s the word,” he murmured.

Alison smiled. “So why are you up, then? Shouldn’t you be getting that beauty sleep?”

“Sometimes it’s a little difficult to drift off, I’m sure you understand that being awake at this hour too.”

“Oh yeah,” Alison said quietly. She lifted her carton up in a small gesture of cheers and made a move to leave. “Well, got my milk. I guess… I’ll just head back to bed then. Good night, Captain.” She had barely made it out of the door before the Captain spoke up once more.

“You could stay for a while,” the Captain said. “If you wanted to. I mean, if you didn’t want to just lay in bed gazing at the ceiling.”

“I’d like that,” Alison pulled out the chair closest, scraping the legs across the tiled floor and interrupting the silence of the house. She left the chair open for the Captain and moved to sit opposite him, settling into the quiet comfort.

“Isn’t it weird to think the dead sleep?” Alison commented. “Doesn’t seem right, does it? Cause sleeping is a bit like being dead only without the commitment so it’s like you’re kind of double dead.”

“Death is nothing like sleeping, Alison. Don’t talk to me about death if you don’t understand it.” The Captain sniffed at her and leant back in his chair maintaining his usual stoic exterior.

“Sorry,” Alison said. “I didn’t mean-,”

“It’s fine,” the Captain said quickly. The pair fell back into silence, they had never exactly been the closest of friends and Alison certainly wouldn’t describe him as her best (undead) friend but they were friend-ly, for sure. Certainly more now that he’d ceased trying to drive her from the house at every opportunity that presented itself. Then again, death does strange things to people, Alison thought, her friends had proved that much. They showed little regard for the lives of the living, thinking very much of themselves and the Captain was surely the embodiment of that.

“It’s not awful, as such,” the Captain interrupted the quiet. Alison looked up from the table to find him watching her intently. “Death. It’s not as terrible as you might think. I know that’s what you were going to ask.”

“Oh,” Alison said. “I wasn’t- I wasn’t actually going to say anything.”

“I know. But you were thinking it.” The Captain said. “You’re in a rather unique position, Alison, I must say. Not many people can say they have a good understanding of death before it happens, but you know more than most.”

“I still don’t really get it, though,” Alison admitted drawing lines across the table with her fingers.

“If I’m telling the truth, neither do I,” the Captain confessed. “I don’t remember it too well. It was like- like falling asleep and then immediately waking up again. You know that plummeting feeling  that happens right as you’re about to drop into sleep, like everything is calm and then suddenly you’re losing grip of reality, and then you’re wide awake again.”

“A hypnic jerk,” Alison quipped.

“Sorry?” He asked.

“That’s what it’s called, that falling thing. A hypnic jerk.” Alison said. “We did it in science class, I think. Your body thinks it’s dying so it does the jerk to make sure that you’re still alive. Makes sense that’s what dying feels like, I guess.”

“Are you afraid to die, Alison?” The question took Alison by surprise, it was unlike the Captain to be open about his emotions and even more unlikely for him to ask about others’ feelings.

“If I have to stay with this rowdy lot for eternity, then yes definitely,” Alison joked with a small laugh.

The Captain smiled and hummed in agreement: “Oh I’m sure I’d have agreed if given the choice before death. Not exactly the most peaceful post-death existence.”

“I’m a little bit scared,” Alison admitted.

“You shouldn’t be too worried, it’s not all that bad,” the Captain said with a shrug.

“Yeah, because you seem to be having a blast with your afterlife, Cap. Happy as Larry,” Alison said sarcastically, she threw the now-empty carton into the bin beside her and settled back towards the table, leaning forward closer to the Captain - their faces barely inches apart.

The Captain paused, his eyes boring into Alison’s sleepy face before he leant forward to match her and whisper in secret confidence.

“It is rather bad,” he reneged. “You should fear it, well done for being scared.” Alison chuckled. “Well thanks, Cap! I feel so much better now!”

“Now, you know that’s not what I mean,” the Captain said slowly, unsure of where he was going next. “As long as you die here, you have no reason to be afraid. We’ll care for you in death as you have for us in life. Be sure, Alison, we’ll teach you all we know.”

“You know, Julian has told me the ‘teachings’ you gave him when he died,” Alison chuckled.

“Somebody needed to give that scoundrel a good telling off; heaven knows no one in life ever did. Julian died much as he lived: with an air of superiority.” The Captain coughed and smirked across at Alison. “He waltzed in here as if he owned the place, demanding authority and respect and, as far as I’m concerned, those are qualities that are earned.”

“Like you?” Alison said pointedly.

“I’m sorry?”

“Did you earn the authority you have over the others?”

“That is beyond the point.” The Captain stated. “You’re rather lucky, Alison! You’ve met a somewhat tempered version of Julian, he’s actually rather bearable these days, likeable sometimes, you wouldn’t believe him in the early days.”

“Oh I can only imagine! And I’m better then, I assume? Seeing as I’m deemed worthy of your afterlife teachings?” Alison laughed.

“Indeed,” the Captain said.

“Were you afraid?” Alison asked. “Of death, I mean? Obviously like, before it happened.”

“No,” the Captain shrugged, finally heeling away from Alison and breaking their close eye contact. “A soldier is never afraid. When you enlist to serve for your country, you relinquish any right to fear your death. Service kills many who enter, you cannot fear the inevitable.”

“But you didn’t die in service?”

“I was a soldier. No matter if my demise happened during the war or 60 years later, I lived a soldier and I died a soldier.” The Captain said certainly. Whenever he spoke of his time in the military he straightened right up and masked any kind of emotion he had allowed to trickle through.

“Now that you’re not a soldier then, are you afraid of… you know, moving on?”

“Of being sucked off?” The Captain clarified.

“I refuse to say that,” Alison shook her head. “And frankly it’s cruel that Julian has kept this joke up. But are you scared?”

“I am still a soldier, Alison. I’ll always be a soldier.”

“Time has moved on, no more fighting and no more soldiers but you know that, Captain.”

“Doesn’t change anything. Time.” The Captain said, matter of fact. The darkness of the kitchen mostly shrouded his face but Alison could easily make out the outline of his sharp features and piercing eyes.

“Time changes everything.” She stated. “You should know that better than most.”

“I’m a soldier.” He repeated, mumbling it under his breath like a reassuring mantra. “For King and country.”

“Queen.” Alison corrected.

Allowing himself, for just a moment, to relinquish his solid, iron-clad grip on the past, the Captain softly whispered: “For Queen and country.”

#bbc ghosts #ficbymax

[cedarmoons]

Not an ask meme question tbh but it's something I really wanted to ask because I admire your writing (ditto to video's writing if they see this (hello btw)!): how did you get over your fear to post writing things on tumblr? Sharing my writing scares me so much that I don't really write outta fear. I miss it a ton so I wanna start again & share with folk but the idea is scary. How do you do it?

First of all, thank you!! I’m so glad you like my writing! :’)

Second, I would say tumblr is a fucking terrible platform for writing, though some fandoms (dragon age) are way better about reblogging/supporting their fanfic writers than others (the arcana). I’d highly recommend posting to ao3, because ao3, while the arcana fandom isn’t necessarily active on there either, it has an infrastructure built to support and nurture writers!! I want you to get as much support as you can, anon!

But to get to your question as to how I get over my fear to post my writing on tumblr: 

I’m a massive hoe!

more writing advice under the cut :)

I think the mantra “don’t write for others write for yourself uwu” is, to a certain extent, complete bullshit. Sure, I love writing my stories and sure, I love my characters, but I also want other people to love my characters and read about them. I want other people to want to read about them and their stories. So what do I do?

I keep writing, and I keep posting, and eventually people will start to notice. It can get really discouraging at first; my first arcana stuff on tumblr got, like, 3 notes. I seriously considered leaving the arcana and going back to the same solas hell I’d been in for the past three years until @4biddenleeches fuckin’ reblogged one of my oneshots and added a whole paragraph of nice comments in the tags AND commented on ao3!! She saved my arcana fandom life!! She’s the real MVP yall, without her I would have written like 3 things for the arcana and that would’ve been it.

So that’s my answer: I’m a hoe, and I want people to read my stuff. Writing fanfic isn’t fun for me if I don’t get to share my work w/ others and I don’t know that other ppl are enjoying my work alongside me.

But I am curious as to your reasons as to why you’re afraid to post to tumblr. I can think of a couple reasons why this might be, though I don’t know your reasons specifically. So, I’m going to be using a fictitious presumption that you want to write Nadia and/or Asra-centric fic for the Arcana fandom as opposed to fic for the Dragon Age fandom.

Is it because you think no one will read it? 

First of all, if this is the case, TAG ME, 🅱️LEASE, I WANT TO READ UR STUFF!! (esp. if it’s nadia or asra content... feed me... i’m starving)

In all seriousness, this is a totally understandable concern. This partially feeds into how hostile tumblr as a platform is for fanfiction and other writing, but it can often feel like your work is being ignored, especially if you’re in the Nadia or Asra tag and your beautiful fanfiction keeps being drowned out by meme posts about how Julian is disaster hottie husband material (I’m joking but really people please stop putting Julian-only stuff in Nadia & Asra’s tags, we know u want notes but pls we’re starving!!). 

But there’s a whole complexity that goes into posts that show up or get attention, including whether or not there’s external links, formatting, length, etc. It really just takes a lot of tinkering to find that “fit” or to decide that you don’t care, which is also a valid take.

The only advice I have for this would be to keep writing. The more content you put out there into the void, the more likely you’re to be noticed, to get feedback, and to gain a following. @kauriart has an excellent tumblr-fanfic-centric advice post here. And if worst comes to worst, if you tag me, I’ll read your work and possibly shove it in all of my friends’s faces!!

Is it because you don’t think your work is up to snuff? 

Again, I would continue to encourage you to keep writing. The best way to improve is to practice. I hated my Asra characterization in my first few chapters of handle with care, and now he comes very naturally to me, because I’ve written like,,, 100,000+ words about him ://// press f for respects re: my wrists

Also, keep in mind that you are always, always your own worst critic! What you may think is absolute garbage may be what someone else thinks is 24-karat gold! If you really hate a piece you’ve worked on, that’s totally fine -- shove it on a google doc somewhere (DON’T DELETE! There may be lines or paragraphs you like & that you can cannibalize for later work! Internet space is infinite!) and start again, thinking about what you can do different, how you could improve what you’ve already written, etc.

There may be another reason you’re afraid to post your work on tumblr, in which case I invite you to send me another ask so I can give you advice, or even send me an IM! But my advice mostly bubbles down to this: keep trucking along. good things come to those who wait. your dues will come; the forest always knows what it owes. :)

last but not least: pray to aphrodite, patron goddess of fanfiction. she will not lead you astray, sweet writer.

(if u post anything u better tag me anon 🔪)

#replies #writing tips #Anonymous