#clay writes

[vadlings]

Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi

Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.

Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.

The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):

The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.

In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)

Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.

I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.

The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.

The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)

Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.

Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.

To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.

#dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #laios touden #shuro #toshiro nakamoto #the winged lion #autistic #autism #clay writes #i GUESS #this was so spur of the moment. im so busy right now i dont have time to be analysing laios touden #i wuont angry autistic rep..

[beepboopappreciation]

Sometimes I find myself wondering how it must feel to be you.

You, who are so different than I.

You do not have a brain, and yet you think.

You have no flesh, but you still bleed.

Behind the plastic and metal,

Beyond the circuitry and wires,

Can you hear me? Do you understand me?

Given a purpose;

To inform. To assist. To serve.

You do your tasks so well.

But if you could be anything you wanted, would you still want to?

Would you still be mine?

But you were never given a choice, were you?

It was never for you to decide.

And I must wonder for the both of us, because you were never allowed.

You, who are so different than I.

#been having a lot of thoughts about computers lately #jus a silly little poem #my post #poetry #computers #technology #robots #objectum #posic #writers on tumblr #text post #this prob won't get notes but thats ok #maybe robot tumblr will like this #clay writes #ultrakill #electric dreams #hal 9000 #summoning robot tumblr with the prev tags dont mind me #Clay Posts

[ghouljams]

Ghost rides the tube when he gets back from deployment. Just sits in the train car and rides it back and forth for hours. Watches the sun come up, and go down. Watches people get on in the morning, get on in the evening. To and from work. Normal people with normal lives, riding the tube. Sometimes he switches lines and rides out to the far zones, staring out the window to see the city fly past. It's so ordinary. Uninteresting to the people that see it every day. He crosses his arms over his chest and closes his eyes in the safety of the mundane civilian crowds, listening to the conversations around him as he does. Mothers with babies, friends on their way to class, drunks on their way home from the pub. Living people.

He gives his seat to an older woman, feels her grateful smile like poking a bruise. Picks up a dropped toy for a child and doesn't let his eyes linger on the way their parent kisses their head. People he's never going to mean anything to, but they mean something to him. Something that sticks in his throat, and makes him snap at the recruit that asks where he's been all day when he gets back on base.

#simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley cod #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mwii #cod ghost #I'm listening to clay pigeons and it's just... #the melancholy of it is getting me #it's so ghost coded #“I'd like to stay but I might have to go to start over again” #idk man I am writing the christmas fic and having some feelings #Ghost baby I'm sorry I'm hitting you with a stick you don't deserve it

[kittyball23]

When you have time could you do a one shot of poppy fan girling over the fact that her bf is in two famous boy bands? I wish the movie gave a little more of it focused on him because the adoration is so cute to me.

Yes, here it is! :D

Surprise (a Trolls fanfic)

“Hey, Branch? It’s almost showtime, I was just thinking that maybe we could…”

The Pop Queen cut off her own question with an enormous gasp.

“WHHHHHAAAAAAT?!?!”

It was simply impossible for her to believe the sight in front of her. Granted, she knew some of what she would find when she ventured backstage to find her boyfriend. She knew of his brothers, and of how they were the sensational boyband known as BroZone. But what she did not at all anticipate were the four other Trolls who made up the other insanely popular boyband that there had been back in the day. 

And, recalling that that band had had five members - and seeing that her boyfriend was costumed to the same chic style they were wearing at that moment - it suddenly all made sense in a whirlwind of revelation.

“Kismet?” she exclaimed in a squeak, pointing a shaky hand at Branch. “You were in BroZone AND Kismet? And you… didn’t… tell me?!” She shot her gaze at the brothers. “Guys, did you know about this?”

They hurriedly denied.

“I’m just as surprised as you are, Pops,” John Dory admitted.

“Not a clue,” Bruce answered.

“Nope,” Clay said, putting his hands up and taking a couple steps back, while Floyd replied with a mystified “Uh-uh,” and a small shake of his head.

At this point, Poppy wasn’t even sure how she was still able to keep standing there - she was trembling so much from the excitement building up inside of her, she was just about ready to collapse!

Branch himself shrugged, keeping collected. “Surprise,” he chuckled.

Poppy couldn’t help herself anymore. Forgetting about everything but being filled with happiness - and not being able to coherently form any other sentences - she rushed forward and threw her arms around Branch’s neck, screaming in delight. Then, she rushed to hug each of his friends, taking Hype, Ablaze, Boom, and Trickee off guard with her uncontained enthusiasm and bone-crushing embrace. And then still, she leapt over towards JD, Bruce, Clay, and Floyd, hugging them for good measure, too!

Hype shook his blue head with a smirk. "Well, that's some girl you got there, Branch!" he exclaimed.

"And this is some sneaky secret-keeping boyband-extraordinaire boyfriend I've got!!" Poppy shouted, finding her voice again and nearly dizzying all nine men with all her jumping up-and-down on the spot. And now that she was speaking again, she couldn’t seem to stop! The words tumbled out of her a hundred miles a minute.

“This is incredible! I really really REALLY can’t believe this! I’m so excited I could SCREAM! I think I will scream! AAAIIYYIII!!! Okay, okay, I’m done now. No, just kidding, I’m actually not. AHGHGH! I’m not gonna be over this for, like, a SUPER long time! I, like, REALLY need all of your autographs, too. Ooo! And a picture! Well, more like a dozen pictures with you guys. And then I’m gonna need copies! And then copies of the copies!! And… and… would it be weird if I fainted right now? Because I totally feel like I’m gonna faint right now, hehe!”

And she did. Expended, she keeled over with that ear-to-ear smile still plastered on her face. Branch caught her right before she fell to the ground, and carried her in his arms.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he said to his friends and brothers, smirking at the Pop Queen. “I’m gonna get her situated in the front row. Then we can get this show rolling, alright?”

And that’s just what he did, leaving Kismet and BroZone to themselves.

Both boybands looked at each other awkwardly, not sure what to say to each other. At least, until Floyd broke the ice, smiling politely.

“So… how did you guys meet Branch?”

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #broppy #branch trolls #poppy trolls #brozone #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #kismet #nsync #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes #thanks for the ask! #kittyball answers #100+

[c-kiddo]

this is canon btw. cad did their top surgery for them :-3 they can use the magic paint to make the boobs blue i guess lol

[image ID: a digitally drawn comic of caduceus, fjord and jester from critical role. in the first panel caduceus is saying "time for your fantasy wildmother top surgery" to fjord who's in a hospital bed with an excited expression, and jester hugging him shouting "good luck, fjord!". the second panel is after the surgery and caduceus saying "hey fjord, the surgery went great btw. how are you doing?" to fjord, who is dizzy and saying "ooh. good." he's in a bed with a compression vest and bandages on his chest. the third panel is a close up of fjords face with a worried expression saying "wait, where's jester?" and caduceus replying "who do you think took your boobs?". the fourth panel is jester in a hospital bed with a mischievous, pleased expression and the outline of boobs under the blanket. there is a trans flag behind her and she's thinking "win." End ID.]

#t4t fjordjester REAL!!!! #critical role #jester lavorre #fjord stone #caduceus clay #fjorester #critical role fanart #myart #2023 #writing a description for this made me realise that its vry stupid #oh well. enjoy lol #its what yous voted for in the poll :-3 #described

[kismets-barista]

Lil Brozone, Floyd- centric oneshot for y'all's enjoyment!

Spoilery for Band Together, so if you're still awaiting watching the movie I'd suggest waiting to read, my friends! Have a lovely night!

Five months, twenty eight days.

That’s how long it had taken him to be able to walk without having to stop for breath.

Floyd was fully recovering, slowly but surely. After moving back to Pop Village, there’d been nothing for him except plenty of rest, John Dory’s incessant mother henning (seriously, that guy was the textbook definition of Anxiety even if he continued to deny it,) and help from his brothers to recuperate. They’d laid off on any public performances, putting aside thoughts of the word tour for later on. Way later on. 

But today was the day. Finally the day they’d decided to put on a public performance, a day that had all of them on their toes with preparations for the five song ‘concert.’ The energy buzzing in the air was something Floyd had missed, but the troll could honestly barely concentrate on how excited he was as his chest filled with sticky, sludgy feelings of dread. The magenta-haired troll sat in front of his light-rimmed vanity mirror, staring back at the shock of white that ran from the roots of his hair and up to the middle. 

He thought he’d gotten over this. 

It wasn’t going to change. It was evident that his hair, along with himself, had permanently changed as a result of that capture. Of his death. 

And pretty much everyone in the village knew that it was a result of something. A bad something. 

Some of them, Cooper specifically, had outright asked. But he didn’t have the best buffer, so Floyd couldn’t find it in his heart to be mad. Others had given him looks, even staring as he began to get out of the house those first months. He could remember the eyes trained on him as John Dory slowly helped him along, talking about an adventure he’d gone on way ‘back in his day,’ as he liked to call it. Floyd had kept to himself, mostly, until John Dory noticed how quiet his brother was being and did something the younger couldn’t.

He stared back at the trolls. Sure, it probably planted the seeds of assumption that John Dory was every bit as standoffish as Branch used to be, but Floyd had to admire his brother’s determination to keep him comfortable. 

“Ten minutes til final soundchecks!” Mayday (Brozone’s stage director’s) voice cut through the silence, and Floyd jerked out of his reverie. He sighed, opening the drawer to his desk and fished through a thousand hair products and ties to pull out a fluffy, white scrunchy. Maybe pulling it up would help lessen the… amount of times people had to see his hair. Floyd let out another sigh as he pulled up his hair, staring himself down in the mirror as he twisted it every which way. “Come on… there’s gotta be some way I can make you look normal again,” he whispered fiercely, tugging on his hair harder as desperation bubbled in his chest. Every way he moved it, white, white, white. The young troll’s hands began to shake as he started to tie it up, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as his breathing shortened. 

How could he go out there looking like this? It’s bad enough as it is, why did he think for a second that today would be any different with how he felt about this… this awful hair of his? 

He considered flaking on his brothers as his breaths began to come out in short gasps. A thousand different excuses flitted through his mind, and Floyd began to grasp at them, one by one. He wasn’t feeling well. He was exhausted again. He couldn’t catch his breath quite right - no, that one would send them into a panic, probably. The thoughts crescendoed, and Floyd yanked on the scrunchie a bit too hard. It snapped, and rebounded on his hand. Causing the duo-tone haired-troll to yelp in pain. He flicked his head in the air, waving off the sting before letting his head sink down to rest on the top of the vanity. He was getting himself way too worked up… this wasn’t going to help anything. He needed to do this show. Needed to prove that he was… fine. Well. As fine as he could be.

“This is for all the lonely people…” he whisper-sang to himself, voice breathy as he steadied his pounding heart. Pulling on his fingers gently. “Thinking that life has passed us by…”

“We won’t give up until we, drink from that silver cup, and ride…” Floyd’s voice tapered off as he frowned, momentum to sing even to himself puttering off. Today was supposed to be a happy day. But here he slumped, moping like someone had just kicked a box of kittens in front of him.

“Ride that highway in the sky.” The lyric lifted softly as a question, and the troll sat up and looked behind himself in confusion. His face lit up at the sight of Branch, his baby brother leaning against the doorframe with his arms loosely crossed against each other.

“Oh, Branch. Hey.” Floyd offered him a grin, to which his younger brother readily responded with one of his own. 

“Hey. Was looking for you. JD wanted us to have a little meeting or whatever before our final soundchecks for the show so I came to get you. How’re you feeling?” He asked while walking over, sitting near his brother. Taking in everything about the older troll, inquisitive blue eyes flitting over the top of Floyd’s hair and down to his toes.

“I’m fine,” Floyd shrugged, stretching as he stood. Paused as he realized that saying ‘I’m fine’ was not an appropriate response, as Branch had told him so many times before. Practically drilled it into his head, at this point. He cut Branch off before his younger brother could say anything by shaking his head and letting out a loud “I meant- I meant that I’m feeling really good. I’m excited for the show, I slept plenty last night so I’m not tired, and I stretched this morning so I’m not achy like I usually am when I wake up.”

He could visibly see Branch’s tightly-wound demeanor relax, and the younger troll stood to join his brother as they headed out of the dressing room.

“Great. Now come on. They’re not too far away.”

And it was only when they made it into the break room, overstuffed couches laden with throw pillows and the ground practically made of mismatched rugs that Floyd realized all of his brothers had hair caps on. They’d happily yelled out his name when he walked in, and Branch had guided the troll over to a couch to sit down before nodding at JD, who’d been chuckling at the fact that Floyd was staring at them as if they all had grown second heads. 

“How ya feelin’, bro-bro? Ready for BroZone’s big debut into Pop Village?”

“Well, when you put it like that, admittedly nervous. But excited, all the same. I’ve missed singing with you all, truly.” He smiled up at his older brothers, who, upon hearing that, all exchanged a look. They nodded at each other, and Bruce took a deep breath while reaching up to the cap covering his hair.

“Well, buddy, we’ve got a bit of a pre-show gift for you,” he started.

“We know how much your hair means to you, and how hard the change has been on you,” Clay continued.

“So we wanted to do a little something just to remind you that you aren’t alone, with how you’re feeling. No matter how hard it may be at times,” Branch finished, and all four of them pulled off their hair caps after JD counted down from three.

And Floyd instantly burst into tears.

Streaking through each of their hair was bold white streaks, the color dyed at the roots of their hair and stretching up and up, just like Floyd’s. It looked natural- how did they do that? 

A million thoughts were running through his mind, but Floyd couldn’t grasp at a single one as the tears continued to pour down his face. He reached out to them, and his brothers were all surrounding him, hugging him tightly. 

“Surprise,” Branch sang softly, and Floyd grabbed onto his arm, squeezing it tightly as he hugged him. He was making his best attempt to hug everyone, which, seeing as it was four full-grown trolls was a bit hard- but the appreciative smile that was plastered onto his face like the sun piercing through a veil of thick clouds was hard to miss. He continued to cry into the hug, emotions overwhelming him as he went from sobs, to weeping that had the four of them pulling him down from the couch and to the ground and up into their arms. 

It took him a few minutes to pull himself together enough to wipe his eyes, but when he did, Floyd gave his brothers the most grateful look he could manage. He didn’t expect to see them crying, too, but it was clear that he’d affected them by crying so hard- and, the fact that they’d already been having a hard time keeping it together even before surprising him with the monumental change. Trolls didn’t just dye their hair- tinsel and extensions were normal in Pop Village but to physically change it like that? It was almost taboo.

“Man, I love you guys so much. I can’t believe you’d just… do that. For me. It means… it means so much.” His voice wavered as he broke down into tears again, but forced himself to reel it in as John Dory patted his back with a big grin.

“Believe it, bro. We’d go to the ends of the earth for you, this wasn’t nothin’ but a stone’s throw across the water if you ask me.”

“What’d I do to deserve such good brothers?” Floyd laughed tearfully, and Clay ruffled his hair gently. “Some would say you were born into this family. And that’s how you got such good brothers.”

The younger troll laughed, taking his brother’s hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Okay, that was a little cheesy,” Floyd chuckled. “But I gotta ask, who…”

“It was John Dory’s idea,” Bruce boasted proudly for the older troll, who’s ears turned bright red as he looked away.

“Dah, anything for my little brother,” he tried to play it off. But Floyd wasn’t having any of that. The younger troll dove into his older brother, pulling him into a hug. He was followed by his four other brothers, who practically dogpiled him and fell on top of each other. A stunned silence befell the brothers before they burst into laughter, and Floyd could feel a massive weight he didn’t even know that was sitting on his chest lift and dissipate. And he knew right then and there that no matter how down he was feeling about himself, how bad everything could get at times, he would always have his brothers to rely on. There were going to be much, much brighter days ahead.

“I love you guys. So much.” “We love you too, Floyd. Don’t you forget it.”

And he wouldn’t. He never would. 

#trolls band together #floyd trolls #bruce trolls #john dory trolls #clay trolls #branch trolls #viadrabbles #oneshot #trolls 2023 #writers of tumblr #fluff #writer on a03 too #1000 words #I had so much fun writing this! #enjoy! #brozone #minor minor oc mention

[sansxfuckyou]

karma's the judge

Summary: Clay learns that Viva is pink down to her very core- well, more of a magenta color right under her skin, the deeper into her flesh the more purple it gets.

Warnings: gore, near death, hospitals, agony, i cannot stress enough that this is not romantic, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: me and @ohposhers got talking, I'm legally not allowed to say anything else about the convo aside from the fact it inspired this fic. title from FØØL, specifically the INHUMAN remix. hope ya'll enjoy and if ya do consider dropping a like or reblog, or checkin' the Ao3 port.

It's only a mildly horrific sight for Clay to see.

He's lying actually.

The sound of the predator running off into the underbrush is still heavy in the air with cracking branches and rustling leaves. It echoes in his ears; that and the sound of Viva's laboured breathing. Her breath stutters as she wheezes, paw hovering over the bright blue shards in her chest and stomach. She's shredded in every sense including literal.

"C-Clay," Viva barely manages to get out, fat tears rolling down her face as agony surges through her. Neon magenta oozes out of rended flesh and seeps into fabric and slides down from her nose. Ears downturned and claws detracted, she's still in fight mode even though she should've ran with the rest of them.

Words are failing to form for Clay as he takes hasty, yet tentative, steps closer to his companion. Then she coughs, she sounds like death incarnate. Wet and shaky; phlegmy blood spills past her teeth and the gouges in her torso bubble up with her blood, the glass sinks deeper into her flesh. She's curling in on herself as she shudders and shakes and loose flesh trails on the dirt in stringy tendons. She grips for the shards to pull them out but even with adrenaline she's still fading fast. Her eyes flutter shut as the sharp edges slice her hands open to match the rest of her torn up body.

Viva falls limp and Clay is just frozen as he stares at their leader. Her chest rises and falls impossibly slow, she should be dead but she isn't and that gives just enough kick to get Clay to move and save her. Try to at least.

Clay drops down beside her and runs a paw across her wounds, checking the depth and the intensity aside from looking so bad it makes him feel nauseated. She shudders in her passed out state, tensing and flexing her claws against the unknown. The blood on his paws contrasts his own fur so much it makes him gag, the slimy texture of coalescing and cooling Pop Troll blood; it's lukewarm and drips but it's thick with bits of flesh. He wants to hurl as he shuffles Viva around a bit, she curls and shifts and hisses in her restless and forced state of sleep as he tries to help her.

Her cape is slowly wrapped around her body and her blood clings to the tufts of fur on the bottom and collar of the cape. The capes exterior doesn't hold in the blood, at all. Instead the magenta substance just slides off it, seeping through the fabric interior and slowly dripping down pieces of faux grass. Her breath heaves and her body is near entirely limp as it's restricted, Clay has to keep her head from hanging awkwardly and further straining her body as he carries her.

-/-/-/-

Viva jolts awake, body tingling with anesthetic that hasn't fully worn off. And as fast as she's shocked herself upright she's buckling in half due to an agonizing pain shooting up from her abdomen to her sternum. She clutches desperately only to find a similar pain resting heavy in her arm. Only then does she let her vision register as a train of thought in her head instead of bouncing from reflex to reflex.

White bandages wrap her arm and she isn't wearing a shirt, her entire torso is wound up in gauze that's a blend of magenta and almost purple with the darkness. She uses her other paw to touch it, and it's almost damp, that makes her stomach turn. She presses a bit more, higher up, and then she hits stitches left uncovered almost at her clavicles.

She glances down further and finds her leg covered in a thick layer of gauze, she can barely move her toes with how tight it is. And the magenta. She feels ill as the scent of drying and gelatinizing blood really sets in as hers instead of some other Troll in the medical ward.

Viva tries to move again, get off the bed and walk purely to spite the agony ripping through every wound on her (some unstitched but she can't tell with how much gauze she's wearing). Her paws rest shakily on the cot and so little effort leaves her winded, struggling to breath instead of cry out in pain. She's the leader. She has to be strong.

The second her toes hit the floor she swears she can hear something snap and she screams. Every torn tendon and string of muscle in her leg tries to fire all at once, preemptively activating to hold her weight, and the rush of blood darkens her gauze. It hurts enough to push her to tears as she falls back on the bed and clutches her leg. The agony in her arms and torso doesn't do much to deter her from holding the wound even as the sheets below her start to turn pink.

"Viva!"

Clay, it's Clay whose coming and closing the door behind him and rushing over. She bites back sniffles and pathetic little sounds as she lets go of her leg and relaxes just a bit. Her body lays prone on the cot, arms at her side and legs loose as Clay comes to her side.

"You were supposed to be out cold for fifteen more minutes," Clay said quietly. Then he laughs a little bit, awkward and forced, "I should've known you'd fight through the anesthetic though."

Viva laughs too even though there's nothing funny, "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Horror rests heavy on Clay's voice as he speaks.

Viva rephrases, "How am I still alive?"

"Look, all I can't find any logical reason as to why considering how wrecked you were. But let's just take it and run." Clay's eyes linger on the darkness of Viva's terribly done excuse of a cast. He should've added more layers of gauze, or made actual casting materials.

"Did anyone else get hurt?" Viva asked, trying to sit up but pushed back down by Clay. She reluctantly stays still.

"No one else got hurt, the tribes really, really worried though," Clay said quietly, "But I have everything under control, just stay in bed till you're healed up."

Viva's blood goes cold at the notions of being bedridden for music knows how long. Her eyes widen a little bit and she stares at Clay, "What are you planning, Clay?"

Clay laughs nervously, "Nothing much, ya know, just taking reign until you're better."

"What."

"For your own health! It'll be fine!"

Viva gives a long sigh as she closes her eyes, "Don't mess it up, Clay."

"I won't! Besides, I've been doing the legal stuff, it'll be fine."

"Have fun socializing and being the funboy again."

Clay swallows hard. Right. Funboy. He'll have to be the funboy again. It makes hims stomach knot but he nods along because he knows. Being the funboy, he's pretty sure the notions alone make his mind flood with dysphoria.

But for Viva's sake?

He'll manage.

#trolls #trolls fanfiction #clay trolls #viva trolls #trolls viva #trolls clay #trolls fanfic #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #tw gore #tw injury #tw hospital

[bunnie-online]

he talks you through it.

#bunnie online! #bunnie after dark #clay beresford #clay beresford x reader #clay beresford smut #smut #smut writing #hayden christensen x reader smut #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin smut #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut

[vivianthepigeon]

Trolls hc again

So my sister does this thing to piss me off where if something goes wrong she’ll yell my name even if I have nothing to do with it

Ex: she’s painting and she spills paint on the ground

“VIVIAN!”

And I pop my head from around the corner confused

I think it would be hilarious if John Dory does the same thing

Ex: he sings the wrong lyric and just yells “CLAY!” when Clay did absolutely nothing

Or

He drops his pencil and it rolls under the couch

“DANG IT BRUCE!”

To mix things up a bit sometimes he just sounds disappointed

He burnt his toast

*sighs* “Floyd 😔”

John Dory doesn’t do it to be mean, he just thinks it’s hilarious

They all hate it with a fiery burning passion

#excuse my grammar #I might write another fanfic #trolls #trolls 3 #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #incorrect trolls quotes #trolls hc #trolls headcanon #brozone #brozone hc #brozone trolls #brozone headcanon #john dory trolls #clay trolls #bruce trolls #floyd trolls #branch trolls #brotherly love #brozone fanfic #trolls fanfic #poppy trolls #viva trolls #trolls fandom #trolls movie #trolls au #brozone au #trolls 3 trolls band together #trolls band together incorrect quotes #trolls broppy

[claitea]

just wanted to doodle drill geno bc i thought it would be neat if i gave him a drill as a hand, couldn't just Not doodle bubble mallow to go with him

alternate caption Super Mario Wonder if it was Good

#super mario #super mario rpg #smrpg #super mario bros wonder #smbw #smrpg geno #smrpg mallow #clai's art #favorite little detail people put in their smrpg art is writing Gaz on the sole of geno's shoe :)

[vadlings]

the memories of the boy i’ve been (801 words) by vadlings

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ethan Frye & Jacob Frye, Evie Frye & Jacob Frye, Ethan Frye & Evie Frye & Jacob Frye Characters: Jacob Frye, Ethan Frye, Evie Frye Additional Tags: Character Study, Emotional Baggage, Bad Parenting, Family, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Jacob Frye Has ADHD

Summary:

Before Ethan, it had been just him, Evie, and their grandmother. Obviously they’d competed, but nothing like they did later on, when every word of praise to Evie and look of disapproval to Jacob felt like the driving force of the rift growing fast between them.

#ok. this is my first time posting fanfic online and im really nervous but i do want to write more like even if just for myself. onwards etc #jacob frye #ethan frye #evie frye #assassins creed syndicate #assassin's creed syndicate #ac syndicate #ac #fic #fanfiction #clay writes #anyway what happened was that i came across this deactivated user who had apparently done like. a bunch of longform character studies #and had also written some fic as well. but bc they had deleted everything i couldnt access any of it #so i was like damn there is so little ac syndicate stuff so that is unfortunate. i guess one does have to be the change they want to see in #the world. and then the dexamfetamine kicked in

[onthesubjectofanything]

julian blossom didn’t just go on a random path, he followed the road not taken by one all american archie andrews.

julian took over archie’s role in the musical—the fictionalized tale of his literal life, taking up the torch as the classic red-haired all star—and then wandered aimlessly as a “lost soul” (indecisive, unsure What His Story Is About) until eventually following the fated footsteps of Fred Andrews by enlisting and dying in the war

a life for a life. julian took on the narrative to try and set archie free.

#and it didnt work! i guess #riverdale #not to mention if you think about it that #clay took the jughead role in the musical and then moved to new york to write and be gay #much to think about #idk if this works but like hear me out #archie andrews #julian blossom #fred andrews #archie’s all american #JULIAN GOING LEFT. JULIAN GOING RIGHT.

[esamastation]

lil bit of AC x Temeraire

"Translation error," is Clay's verdict.

"Translation error," Desmond repeats dubiously, staring down at him.

"Yes."

"Uh-huh. And that means what, exactly?"

So many things that he doesn't understand, it turns out. Stuff like how Animus code works and how badly it was originally designed, Abstergo trying to derive from the First Civilisation's work and how it was bungled up. Add into the mix human DNA - Clay's - being translated into Animus simulation which was then translated into whatever the Grand Temple had going on for itself which was then translated yet again into the background processing of the universe, plus the delightfully unstable addition of stray thoughts and the fact that Desmond has slight Piece of Eden infection and apparently the placebo effect is actual fucking magic -

"What?" Desmond asks helplessly.

"Stalk it up as a glitch in the Matrix, times a thousand," Clay concludes. "And don't worry about it."

"Um. No, I don't think I can," Desmond says, emphatically, and motions at him. "Clay, you're a dragon."

Clay looks down at himself, at his sinuous body of pale gold and burnished bronze. He's not a very big dragon, about the size of a big dog maybe, but he's still very clearly a dragon. Wings and tail and talons and all.

Clay looks up at him, and his voice is sardonic. "Wow, your Eagle Vision must be levelling up, Desmond, your observational abilities are off the charts!"

Desmond folds his arms. "I'm also observing that there's something wrong with the Grand Temple," he says flatly.

Clay swings his long necked head around this way and that, taking in the ancient volcanic cave around them. "Looks the same to me."

"All our stuff is gone, Clay. And I seem to recall that part having collapsed. It looks pretty uncollapsed to me. Also, the barrier is up again," Desmond points at the glowing Isu-tech barrier between them and the device Desmond is pretty sure he just activated. "Are you seeing the barrier, Clay, the barrier I spent the last week's of my life opening?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Seventeen, you're not dead yet."

"Clay," Desmond says, even flatter.

The dragon blows out an acrid smelling breath. "Okay, fine, I did maybe attempt a little bit of time travel," he says defensively. "You would've too if you realised what the Grand Temple could really do!"

"Which is… time travel?"

"Pretty much anything that your little mind can come up with, actually."

Desmond gives him another one over and folds his arms. "Like turning you into a dragon."

"Manipulating probabilities is one hell of a thing," Clay agrees and nudges his side with his nose. Snout? "But the dragon bit is definitely a translation error. I was trying to recode myself into an Isu," he adds, very quickly under his breath. "Not a winged reptile with an upset stomach."

"You - what?"

Clay avoids looking him in the eye and huffs out an embarrassed breath. "Also you're not dead. You're welcome for not being dead," he says pointedly.

Desmond stares at him for a long moment before letting out a sigh and letting it go. "Thanks. You have an upset stomach?" he then asks.

"It kinda hurts, yeah," Clay murmurs, shifting his weight a little, and just then there's an audible gurgle from somewhere within him, his draconic belly rumbling.

Desmond lets his hands drop to his sides. "You're hungry?" he asks incredulously.

"I haven't eaten anything in almost a year, Desmond, have some sympathy."

"Yeah, well, you were dead," Desmond says, making a face, and then hesitates. "I should be dead."

"That's what Juno wanted to happen anyway," Clay agrees and unfurls his wings tentatively. "Again you're welcome."

"Right. You… saved me. And brought us back in time," Desmond says slowly and frowns  "When exactly are we?"

Clay spreads out his wings and shakes himself. "If I didn't mess up the calculations, maybe two hundred years back in time."

"Uh. Why two hundred years?"

"It's enough time to fast forward industrial revolution without breaking history too badly," Clay says almost flippantly and gives him a look. "And all your major ancestors have procreated and died and so if we mess up time, there's still a good chance you will be born."

Desmond blinks. "That's," he starts to say and then isn't entirely sure how to continue. It's not exactly comforting, not exactly worrisome. It's something in between with a little bit of existential horror thrown in. "Okay," he settles on saying, feebly. "And what are we going to do? Just cause an early industrial revolution?"

"That and some other things. I have some plans," Clay says, not quite modestly.

Desmond isn't exactly reassured by his tone. "And how does becoming a dragon feature in those plans?"

Clay hesitates and looks down at himself, shifting his weight on his taloned claws. "Well," he says and his stomach grumbles again. "I think it might change the first step. Get food, instead of find riches. Do you think we could get some food? I'm really hungry, Desmond. You know how to hunt, right?"

Desmond eyes him for a moment and then hums. "I know how to hunt, yeah," he says slowly and looks away, towards the entrance to the Temple. Or rather the exit from their point of view. "But, uh."

"What?"

"You know, we needed Minerva's Apple to get in here. The door was pretty well shut - and had been for tens of thousands of years." Desmond points out and nods at the sloping cave, leading away from them. "How do you suppose we're going to get out?" 

Clay stills and then tucks his wings back in. "Oh," he says.

"Yeah. Oh."

-

What if Travel Winds but with Clay and more crack?

#Fanfiction #crossover #assassins creed #Temeraire #desmond miles #clay kaczmarek #Hey look writing #That hasn't happened in a while

[kittyball23]

Intrusion (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Poppy and Branch are out, seeking peace, quiet, and each other. Though, with four not-so-discreet snoopers around, that may not be so much of a possibility

A/N: Welcome to the next oneshot collection I've planned for TBT, "Brodacious!" (Also found on AO3, Wattpad, and Fanfiction.net under the same name) Can't wait to write for the Main 7, but of course, going to kick things off with a little Broppy ;) Think of this first one as a new edition (haha) of my oneshot from Trolls 3.0 "Setting the Mood" (ch 11) Rated G!

_________________________________________

Being a queen was a lot of work.

Branch knew this about Poppy, even before she had officially placed the crown on her head and received the title. Seeing King Peppy run Pop village, and then Poppy succeeding him, he could tell that the duties eventually took their toll on the two Trolls.

But, in turn, that’s what made quiet moments more appreciated. The times where she’d have a break to share alongside Branch for just the two of them to do as they pleased were always cherished, even if it was something simple like staying in his bunker, cuddled on the couch,eating cupcakes and other sweets while whispering silly but sweet things to one another. Or whether it was something a little more planned, like the picnic date he’d taken her out for that evening.

Twilight had fallen, and the sky was painted a beautiful gradient shade of orange and purple. Stars began to dot the sky, and the glow bugs began to flutter out, adding beauty to the scene around them. Though to Branch, nothing was more beautiful than the sight of the pretty pink-haired Troll that he was proud to call his girlfriend, even if she had a little bit of frosting stuck to her cheek from the cupcake she was eating. But it was not to worry. That’s why she had him. He was her partner, the metaphorical king to her queen, and the cupcake-frosting-wiper to her cupcake-frosting-mess.

He chuckled, scooting a little closer and setting his own cupcake down on the picnic blanket so that he could reach up and dab at her cheek with a napkin. She giggled in spite of herself and not being more cautious to not make such a mess eating, and then looked up gratefully into his deep, blue eyes. Branch felt himself entranced by her fuchsia gaze as well, and his hand lingered on her cheek, using his thumb to caress the skin where her cute freckles were. The moment was so perfect – why, it even sounded like there was sweet music going off in his head just from looking at her so.

But… maybe it wasn’t just in his head. Poppy blinked, coming out of her trance, and perked an ear. Branch did too, glancing around but not seeing anyone around just yet. Then he heard the voices a little more clearly – four very distinct and recognizable voices - and some rustling in the nearby bushes as an indicator of where it was coming from.

“Oh, oh-oh-oh, yeaheahah, come on, come on

Oh, oh-oh-oh, Sha-la-lala-la, la-lala, mmm-hmmm…”

Not making a whole lot of effort to hide themselves much, Branch and Poppy could see the heads of John Dory, Clay, and Floyd peeking out from behind the bushes, harmonizing a melody, while Bruce took on the main vocals.

“There, you see her,

Sitting there across the way,

She don’t got a lot to say, but there’s something about her...

And you don’t know why but you’re dying to try

You wanna, kiss the girl…”

Branch rolled his eyes as his other brothers added their own voices.

“Yeah, you want her,

Look at her you know you do,

It’s possible she wants you to,

But there’s one way to ask her

One way to ask her

One way to ask her…

Boy, you better do it soon,

No time would be better,

And it don't take a word, not a single word,

Go on, and kiss the girl, kiss the girl…”

Poppy giggled a little at their antics, but then grimaced a little upon seeing the rather annoyed look on Branch’s face. She knew that Branch definitely didn’t like this. She gently patted his hand. “Hey,” she said softly, “we can move somewhere else, you know.”

Branch glanced at her a bit deadpanned, but then a slight smirk tugged the corner of his lip. “Actually, I’d rather take the advice.”

And before Poppy could question what was going on, she was promptly tugged towards his face, his lips enveloping hers. Poppy sighed gratefully and returned the kiss as an eruption of wolf-whistles and jeering came from the other side of the bush.

“Woo-hoo! Way to go Branch the Heartthrob 2.0!” Bruce called out.

“Cool as ice but with all the spice!” John Dory riffed.

Clay in the meantime elbowed his brothers and gestured out wildly towards the pair. “See? SEE? Serious Boy Clay still has a couple of old tricks up his sleeve!”

“Way to go, Bromeo!” Floyd shouted to Branch encouragingly, clapping his hands.

But Poppy and Branch remained deaf to the brothers, their only focus being on the passion that they ignited between each other.

__________________________________________

A/N: I don't know about you, but when I watched 2023 Little Mermaid earlier this year, my brain kept distracting me by saying "Yo, Sebastian is just Spruce with a Jamaican accent" lmaooo

(also this version of Kiss the Girl is from Descendants 2, it's my fav version :3)

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #dreamworks #broppy #brozone #branch trolls #poppy trolls #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #fanfiction #kittyball writes #brodacious fanfiction #100+

[oldmanffucker]

Thinking abt house telling the fellows he’s going to a pottery class with Wilson and they’re like ‘fine. Enjoy your hookers.’ And he’s like. ‘Unfortunately there’s no hookers at the pottery studio.’ And they roll their eyes like ‘Keep your secrets’. And he’s just amused. Comes in the next day and they’re like. ‘How was “pottery class”?’ and house is like. ‘Great :) we made a pour over.’ And they’re like ‘yeah sure. Where is it?’ & he shrugs like ‘takes a couple weeks before it’s done in the kiln’ ‘riiiight’ hes like. ‘Here. I took a photo in the class. Look. That’s us.’ *shows them a pic of him and Wilson smiling holding up pour overs and pointing to them* ‘okay I’ll admit your photo shop skills have gotten much better’ ‘why don’t you believe I went to a pottery class???’ ‘Bc it’s you??’ ‘Fine’

Okay so then they go to Wilson to confirm. ‘Did house show you the picture?’ ‘Yeah. We think it was photoshopped’ ‘you really don’t believe Gregory house would make pottery do you.’ Bemused. House is like. Well there’s another one next Friday. 6pm at so and so. Plains boro art center or whatever.

ALL the fellows show up to the happy hour ceramics class that Friday half ready to catch hilson in a lie half ready to enjoy a ceramics happy hour. All shocked and giddy to see hilson sitting and smiling at a table chatting away with the art instructor who clearly already knows them.

#i'm writing the fic #author is a happy hour art instructor #I love doing the clay classes especially #wrpte this while high pls excuse the typos and complete lack of punctuation #text post #house #house md #hilson #fellows #fic #my post

[rainbow-roll-art]

Listen with your heart.

The pose I drew for Caduceus here was extremely inspired by the iconic "pretty blowing spirit leaves" thing from Pocahontas. I've had a Critical Role + Disney bug ever since. Maybe I'll do a series!

Ref below:

#critical role #caduceus clay #the mighty nein #cr2 #cr fanart #pro writing tip: you can fix any movie by putting caduceus in it