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#thats how the story ends
guttersnarls · 4 months
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smokestarrules · 9 months
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kenmaiii · 1 month
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suffering so i gave sampo period cramps to make me feel better (•́⍜•̀)
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carmenpeach · 5 months
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Sonic and Tails are dead... in the midwest! Chapter 4
ch 1 ch 2 ch 3
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Tomarry AU where Harry knows everything but it's not because he is a time traveller, neither because he is a seer —
Pages and words have always been Harry's best friend. Living inside a cupboard did not help with his obsession. Rather, it was due to those pages that he survived. (He was 14 when he got his room instead of a bloody cupboard to sleep in.). The library was the only place Harry was able to hide from Dudley before they were sent to different schools.
When he was fourteen, and hiding from Dudley in the public library (he was mad that his gaming room was given to him.) he ends up reading a book he came to like very much.
It was a book about an orphan boy (like him.) who ends up going to this magic world (oh, how Harry wished) but sadly Tom ended up being hated there as well. Harry was awed by Tom's strength, but also angry (at the world how they let Tom down.) and angry at Tom for destroying himself to destroy what hurt him (or maybe he was angry at himself for not being able to do the same, maybe he was angry that he couldn't save Tom —) Harry was fourteen and it would seem he was angry at a lot of things.
(—that day Harry punched Dudley back after Dudley hit him. He didn't get to eat for a week straight.)
Jealousy is something he never let himself feel, because it wasn't a privilege he was given — not really. But one thing he was jealous of was the fact that Tom got to fly. (Harry wondered some nights — hungry and unable to sleep — what would he do if he got a magic letter? Would he have friends? How nice it would be to get to eat 3 times a day — how nice it would be to just fly away.).
Harry Potter loved Tom Riddle. Harry Potter also loved Lord Voldemort. The boy who died to be born as a monster. The boy who swallowed all the hatred so that he could hate the world in return (oh, how Harry wish he could burn down the world too sometimes — how he wish he could just hate hate hate and not care care care; maybe then he would finally stop trying look for approval in his aunt's eyes). Harry knew when started reading the book Tom was as cruel as he was strong. And he knew as he read the text, there would come a day Tom would burn the world like he was also burned. Even though he didn't agree with Tom's decisions most of the time he knew Tom. So yes, Harry Potter might not agree with Voldemort but he still loved him. And he wished that he could tell him that. Wished he could tell the man who was still a boy that wanted a family so bad that he stayed up for hours at night searching, hungry to find any living family there was, hungry for a belonging that he wasn't even deigned in the magic world. He wished he could tell Voldemort that no matter what he became, Harry would love him.
So imagine his surprise when he wakes up in a moving train — right after going to bed (instead of a cake he got a can of soup) the night he turned sixteen. Imagine how surprised as he sat there, in robes that he doesn't remember he ever owned. Imagine him freaking out that he got kidnapped as the door of his train compartment opened, and in came Tom Riddle.
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steddie-there · 1 year
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It Sure Felt Nice When He Was Holding My Hand
Steve had finally managed to escape.
His mom was holding one of her parties again, a "summer soiree" as she called it, so she'd dressed him in pressed khakis and a butter yellow button-down shirt and "Oh the cutest little blue bow tie, Steven, don't you just look darling? Now come say hi to mommy's friends."
He hated bow ties. He always felt like he was suffocating with one around his neck.
He hated his mom's parties. They made him feel like he was suffocating, too.
So the second he saw a chance to leave, he took it. One of their neighbors had walked in with her new baby and his mother made a big production of cooing over the little girl; Steve rolled his eyes - she hated babies, Steve knew, because she always told him how messy babies were and how much she'd hated cleaning the messes he made as a baby. But, not one to waste an opportunity, the moment she looked the other way, he had raced out the back door into the woods, running as fast as his little eight year old legs could go. He ripped the bow tie off and dropped it in the yard behind him as he crossed into the line of trees.
Which brought him to now. Wandering in the woods, farther than he ever had before. He could hear the burble of a creek ahead, and it drew him on like a moth to a flame. He wanted to splash around in the water and mud, splatter it all over his pristine clothes, even though he would get in trouble for it later. He would already be in trouble for running off, what was a few more minutes added to the lecture?
But at the edge of the trees, he stopped short. Someone was already there, kneeling next to a little rowboat bobbing in the water.
Steve couldn't see their face, just that they were wearing faded jeans and big boots with the laces undone and an old two-sizes too big blue flannel shirt and they had dark brown curls just grazing the edges of their shoulders. He watched for a moment as they seemed to lay something into the boat. Tilted his head, trying to see what it was.
"What are you doing?" Steve asked, breaking the quiet murmur of the woods.
The person whirled around, hands coming up defensively, flowers scattering over the ground, and now Steve could see it was a boy, probably about his age. He had the biggest brown eyes Steve had ever seen. Right now, they were opened wide, startled at Steve's sudden appearance.
"Sorry!" he apologized quickly. "I didn't mean to scare you."
The other boy's shoulders dropped as he relaxed. "It's okay, just didn't think anyone else was out here," he told Steve, sending him a quick smile. Something about it made Steve want to smile back.
For a moment they just looked at each other.
"So, what are you doing?" Steve asked again, trying to peer around the other boy to the boat.
The boy glanced behind him, then turned back to Steve and his grin turned mischievous. "I'm having my funeral," he announced.
Steve just blinked at him. "Your... your funeral?" he asked, baffled. "But you're -"
"Dead," the boy assured him with a solemn nod.
Steve giggled and the other boy looked pleased at his reaction.
"Wanna help me pick more flowers?" he asked and Steve nodded, dropping to his knees, not caring about the grass stains he would surely now have on his pants, and gathering the little yellow blooms into his hands.
They worked in silence for awhile, until Steve asked, "So why are you having your funeral in a boat instead of being buried?" He was pretty sure most funerals involved graves and dirt, not boats and flowers.
"For the symbolism!" the boy declared, throwing his arms wide. Steve scrunched his nose, not sure what he meant by that. The boy peered at him from the corner of his eye, then whispered, "I don't really know what that means, but it sounded important."
Steve giggled again. "You're weird," he said.
Despite the fondness in his tone, those big brown eyes seemed to shutter and grow dim, the other boy shrinking into himself at Steve's words. Hastily, he assured him, "Not, like, bad weird. Good weird. Like, cool weird. Fun weird."
That earned him a wide grin and a shoulder bump.
"So how did you die?" Steve asked, leaning back on his hands and watching as the boy artfully placed both their bunches of flowers around the pillow already inside the boat.
"Carrots," the boy said seriously.
"Carrots???"
"Carrots," he nodded. "They're evil. And my wicked uncle made me eat them for lunch. So I died." He shrugged, as if dying from carrot ingestion was just a casual, every day experience.
Steve bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing again, mimicking the other boy's solemnity. "Ah, I see."
They both glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes, bursting into snickers when their eyes met.
"Okay," the boy said, standing and dusting off his knees, not that it did much for the grass and mud clinging to the denim. "Hold the boat while I get in."
Steve moved to kneel on the muddy creek bank, grabbing the side of the rowboat and keeping it steady while his new friend stepped in and settled down with his head on the pillow. The boat rocked a little as he did, water splashing up onto Steve's shirt, but he ignored it, not letting go until the other boy had stopped moving. He sat back and brushed his hands off.
"Now what?" he whispered after a moment of silence.
"Now... I guess we sit and be sad?" the boy answered, sounding unsure and giggling quietly. He flung a hand up to his forehead dramatically, declaring, "Alas, poor me, we knew me well!" Then he wrapped his hands around a flower and laid them on his chest with his eyes closed.
Steve laughed at the dramatics, then pulled his knees up to his chest and, also closing his eyes, sat quietly for a while. He listened to the wind in the trees, to the birds chirping around them, to the bubble and splash of the water flowing around the boat.
Steve opened his eyes and stared down at the boy in the boat. His curls were spread over the flowers, eyes closed, hands clasped on his chest, and Steve sighed faux-mournfully. "I wish you weren't dead. You're funny."
The boy pursed his lips, considering. "I could, maybe, be brought back to life. If I got a kiss from a handsome prince." He cracked an eyelid open, peering at Steve. "That's you, by the way," he whispered loudly.
Steve giggled yet again. "Me? A handsome prince?"
The boy nodded, some of the flowers tangling in his curls as he jostled them. "The handsomest," he said, before closing his eyes again.
Steve considered him for a moment. He looked at the creek at his feet, then down at his not-so-clean-anymore clothes, then shrugged and stepped into the water to stand next to the boat, feeling it rise to about his waist. Resting his hands on the side of the boat, he leaned over, bringing his face very close to the other boy's. For a second, he just stopped there, feeling the other boy's breath hit his cheek.
Then he kissed him on the nose.
The other boy laughed aloud, a ringing, joyful sound that Steve thought might just be the best thing he'd ever heard. His eyes popped open and he stared at Steve, eyes sparkling, dimples framing his grin.
Steve grinned back. "So. Did it work? Are you alive again?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah," his friend answered, "Definitely." He bit his lip and seemed to be thinking about something.
Steve waited.
"You wanna get in the boat, too?" the boy finally asked and Steve was clambering inside before he even finished his question. His movements rocked the boat from side to side and they both laughed as they held on and settled next to each other, staring up at the clouds.
Steve tried to concentrate on the cloudy pictures the boy next to him was pointing out in the sky. But he could feel a hand brushing against his own and he wondered what it would feel like to hold it. He had only ever held his mom's hand to cross the street and Carol's while they ran away from Tommy when they played tag at school. Maybe it would be different, holding a boy's hand. There was only one way to find out.
He wrapped his fingers around the other boy's.
The boy paused his detailed description of a dragon he could see in the clouds, turning his head to look at Steve. Then he smiled, a small, secret smile that felt like it was just for Steve. Steve smiled back. Tangling their fingers more tightly together, they both looked back up at the sky.
Steve wasn't sure how long they lay there, talking about the clouds and the trees and their favorite places in Hawkins, but when the sun started to set, he sighed.
"I have to go home now."
The other boy nodded. "Yeah, I should go, too. My uncle is probably worried about me."
Steve grinned at him. "Not such a wicked uncle, after all?"
The boy rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Nah, he's pretty great, actually. Aside from making me eat carrots."
He said the last word so viciously that Steve couldn't help his laughter.
"He even said he'd start teaching me to play guitar tonight!"
"That's so cool!" Steve said. Decided not to say that all he'd get when he got home was a lecture.
The boy climbed out of the boat first, then turned to help Steve. For a moment, they just stood silently, smiling at each other. "Well, I'll see you around!" the boy says brightly, starting to walk down the creek, pulling the boat along with a rope.
"Yeah, see you," Steve answered, turning to his path home. He got a few steps away before he realized something and ran back to the clearing by the creek. "Hey, wait, what's your na - " he started to ask, but the boy had already disappeared into the trees. Steve sighed and walked away with his hands shoved into his pockets.
That night, Steve lay in bed, ears still ringing from the very loud thirty minute lecture his dad had given him when he showed up, muddy and grass stained and an hour late for dinner. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if that afternoon had maybe been a dream. But in his mind's eye, he could see the clouds drifting past and he swore he could still feel the other boy's fingers tangled with his own. He closed his eyes and smiled. He knew he'd spend the rest of the summer locked indoors, his dad had promised that; knew if he even so much as glanced at the woods, he'd get another lecture. But it was all worth it, he decided, as he carefully tucked the memory of that afternoon and the boy with the big brown eyes and curly hair away into a safe corner of his mind.
In the fall, he looked for his friend at school, but only succeeded in meeting a girl a year younger than him, Nancy, when he mistook her brown curls for the ones he was looking for.
By the time middle school rolled around, that afternoon at the creek had been shoved so far to the back of his memory that he didn't even look twice at the strange new kid with the buzz cut, no matter how familiar his brown eyes looked from across the cafeteria.
And then high school and the Upside Down and new friends and new terrors and a morning at work interrupted by two of his munchkins desperate to prove a friend's innocence.
Which is how he found himself staring into the biggest brown eyes he'd ever seen for the first time in over a decade.
"Carrots!" Steve all but shouted as the shock of recognition began to wear off, heedless of the sharp glass at his throat. Eddie flinched back as the others stared in confused silence.
"What?" Eddie asked, baffled.
"You died because your uncle made you eat carrots. You had a funeral in a rowboat and - "
Eddie's wide brown eyes went impossibly wider at Steve's words. He cut Steve off, lowering the bottle as a shy grin crept over his face, warring with the terror still present in his stance. "And a handsome prince brought me back to life."
"It is you!" Steve beamed. Eddie beamed back, his shoulders relaxing, and Steve felt the insane urge to kiss the tip of his nose just as he had all those years ago.
The moment was interrupted by Dustin clearing his throat. "Um... what the fuck, Steve?"
Steve and Eddie laughed. "It's a long story," Steve said. Then he sobered. "And we have more pressing problems." He looked at Eddie, saw the way he curled back in on himself. Put a hand on his shoulder and guided him to sit down. "Eddie, what's going on?"
Eddie looked up at him with a gaze so haunted Steve just wanted to pull him into his arms. Settled for soothingly rubbing his shoulder.
"You won't believe me," Eddie said brokenly.
"Try us," Max told him. Steve squeezed his shoulder, and Eddie took a deep breath and started talking.
--..--..--..--..--
Later, after bats and battle, blood and bandages, after mouth-to-mouth and "I swear to God, Munson, if you die on me I will resurrect you and kill you again myself, don't think I won't," they're in a hospital room. It's just them, the others having gone home to sleep an hour ago. But Steve can't bring himself to leave. Can't quite bring himself to tangle his fingers with Eddie's where they rest on the hospital bed, either, although he desperately wants to.
"You know, that's the second time you've kissed me back to life, Stevie. Gonna make a habit of it?" Eddie jokes.
Steve looks up at him, breath catching when their eyes meet. Despite the lighthearted tone, Eddie's gaze is serious. Warm. Those wide, wide eyes locked on Steve intently.
It makes Steve feel brave. He laughs a little. "Actually," he says, "I was kinda hoping I could kiss you sometime when you're not dead."
Eddie's eyes widen even further before he ducks his head shyly, looks up at Steve from under his lashes. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Steve says, finally tangling their fingers together.
And there's that secret smile Eddie has, the one that seems like it's only for Steve. "I think I'd like that," he says.
"Good," Steve whispers and leans in.
--..--..--..--..--
also on ao3!
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moonelnone · 11 months
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Luffy wants to go fly a kite
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lucky-slice · 1 month
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low key i think to deny Riko's trauma is to deny his narrative importance in the story.
like Riko's trauma related to his father parallels neil's. His concept of brotherhood adds complexity to Andrew and Aaron's relationship. He acts not just as an antagonist but as a foil to other character's relationship to trauma and violence.
to solely view riko through the lense of his actions is to miss the point. He is a character in a story, not a real breathing human being.
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guildling · 7 months
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i appreciate him very much
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The idea that Tommy, a closeted gay man who was desperately trying to fit in in a hyper macho and discriminatory environment, isn't allowed to have any growth from when he was over compensating and was a dick to Chim really pisses me off. He literally had canonical growth to the point he was going for drinks with Chim and Hen in Bobby Begins Again and they got him a fancy leaving cake.
Why isn't he allowed to grow and be better? Because he's white? Because he "gets in the way of buddie"? Because no one is allowed to say and change at all over a decade?
Like this is a queer fandom and I'd bet a lot of money that a ton of people in this fandom said and did things they weren't proud of when they were younger, especially before they came out so they could try and hide it.
I know this is quite a young fandom too but like, it was literally only a decade ago when "gay" was an insult at school and doing anything that could be get you accused of being gay was fucking social suicide. You guys have no idea how lucky you are that people at least get called out for that shit now cause they didn't when I was a kid. I would have done almost anything to just be ignored, let alone accepted, rather than being openly bisexual.
So yeah, I think Tommy is allowed to fucking change as a person because Bobby, Chim and Hen came into his life and allowed him to stop repressing. Stop being such fucking assholes. You aren't any better than him, and frankly the way some of you behave makes the way Tommy acted when he was first in the show look like a fucking saint. Touch some grass.
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smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.
#jrwi show#jrwi fanart#jrwi riptide#gillion tidestrider#made this within a short span of wahtever bc i gotta go up to the mountains for my stupid gay job tonight n im trying#nnot to frrRREAAAK THE FUCK OUUTTTTTTi dont wanna work but. get that bread we fuckin shall i guess#ONWARDS TO THE FISH TORMENT!! sometimes flowers feel pain when you trim them before their blossoming. atleast i imagine so#i used to draw gillion with loooong hair tied into a big ol braid. and then it was confirmed that he had short hair when he was little.#AT FIRST I WAS SAD. but then i realized the duality of. when they were little. gill had short hair. edyn had long hair.#AND NOW THEYRE OLDER. and gillion has long hair. and edyn has short hair#both mirroring eachother. looking up to eachother. subconsciously or not. they most certainly care. and most certainly miss eachother.#GILLION ALWAYS LOVED HOW LONG HAIR LOOKs. atleast i imagine so. he hasnt cut it since he left the undersea. sure he wanted to go back home#but even at the very start. he knew he was free in some way now. free to grow out his hair. an adventure would await him before he returns.#he knew it would be a while. so he cant let this go. he cant let this sought-after hair-length get cut away from him again#not yet. not yet. i like to think he loved music too. I SAW SOMETHING INTERESTING A BIT AGO#i see alot of ppl commenting on my baby gill comics like;'i wouldFIGHT this teacher i wanna KILL EM i want them DESTROYED#all very good and nice sentiments! i LOVE the energy here! and it would be nice. to have that catharsis#but the story of young tidestrider is not a story of catharsis. it is a story of agony and being so so small and so special and also so dum#and sucking so bad. and just being a kid and doing the things that a little kid does and so many tired tired people reacting badly to it#youre supposed to be the hero that will save us. our world hangs in the balance and you are the one who tips the scales.#YOU are supposed to SAVE US!! you NEED to SAVE US! CAN YOU PLEASE STOP SQUIRMING IN YOUR STUPID CHAIR!!#you'd think that young tidestrider ought to prevail. and be tucked someplace all safe and sound.#elders gone missing and rotting in a jail. their cultists nowhere around. but theres no happy endings. not here not now.#this tale is all sorrows n woes. you may dream that justice n peace win the day. but thats not how this story goes#BIG ideas for this lil baby gillion series. if anything i make ever gets disproven im killing myself in a well as to poison a water supply
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intotheelliwoods · 22 days
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I have one more thing I want to work on before I get back into updating 2AL regularly, but until then......
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iicaru2 · 2 months
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“He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation...”
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“...but he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of heaven, for they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world.”
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“Drawn in by her fierce independence, Lucifer found her, and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love.”
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“As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his love into the dark pit he had created...”
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--
parallels.
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13eyond13 · 3 months
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Something I think fiction does sometimes is make sex represent the end goal for relationships so often that if two characters sleep together it causes readers to automatically see them as truly in love / that it would solve all problems for the pair to be together forever, even when that isn't necessarily what the narrative is trying to say / depict otherwise.
I am thinking about this because of Guts and Casca... to me they sleep together initially almost as an act of friendship? A way of experimenting with each other and learning about sex, perhaps of distracting themselves from the person they're both more actually into, and of course also because they do care about each other and maybe are attracted to one another on some level, and want to see what it would be like to try to get even closer together. But I think the story also makes it pretty clear that Guts is more emotionally invested in his relationship with Griffith than with Casca, in what you might call a narratively romantic sense... and Casca is shown sort of seeing the futility of her feelings for Griffith and eventually growing apart from him that way pre-Eclipse, even though she still cares for him the most out of everyone she knows (though I don't think he ever feels nearly the same way about her). So getting with Griffith isn't end game for Casca (and she herself eventually realizes that), but I also don't read Casca as a character for whom getting with Guts is the end game character arc-wise, either. I'm not sure Miura even had a concrete end-game character arc in mind for her, to be honest. I feel as though unfortunately she was written mostly as something to be used between Griffith and Guts rather than to end up having her own fully realized narrative journey in the same way that Guts (and maybe also Griffith) will. I want to see her and Guts as friends and at peace more than I want to see them live happily ever after together as a couple, because I feel like that's actually more how they really feel for one another than anything else. Granted, there's a bit of an interesting ironic twist in the story that happens during the Eclipse, where Griffith (unintentionally?) drives Guts and Casca closer together than I think they might have been otherwise with the trauma that he causes them both (even though I think their relationship is probably something he'd be jealous of and read as more romantic than it actually might be and wish to destroy, simply due to his own insecurities and his own possessive feelings for Guts). But I also didn't really read Guts' reactions in the Eclipse scene as Guts being jealous and possessive over Casca in a sexual / romantic sense - I read it more as him feeling empathy for her pain and desire to protect her from harm / from the darker side of Griffith he maybe knew about a bit better than anybody else. I DO care about Guts and Casca's relationship a lot, and find it one of the most emotionally compelling things in the story. But I don't think shipping them together for a happily ever after is really what I'd want for them, nor something that the narrative was actually trying to work towards / suggest to be the best ending for anybody involved? I don't know if I think shipping Guts and Griffith necessarily is either, particularly because of how irredeemably awful Griffith behaved during the Eclipse... but I DO think the story intentionally hinges more around the Griffguts relationship and their emotional journeys / character developments than it does about any other pair/relationship in the series, and that both of them have intense unresolved feelings for each other that come off much more suggestive and stronger than ones of just simply wanting to be friends. And I think all of these characters are pretty explicitly aware of that themselves even in the story as well.
Haha I don't even know what I'm trying to even say here except to work out some of my own thoughts about the main 3 that I care about, I suppose!
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silverskye13 · 19 days
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Will enby Helsknight/trans Tanguish/top surgery scars/stubborn avoidant Welsknight in a gender crisis make it into the main story of RnS? Like, a full acknowledgment of it? Because yes, us on tumblr are aware (and happily bully RnS Wels for it) but I’m curious to how it may be brought up in the main storyline instead of rambles and drabbles. (Don’t get me wrong, those rambles and drabbles are what get me through the day. But my best friend, who isn’t in the MCYT fandom whatsoever, just caught up with RnS and doesn’t use tumblr, and besides spamming her with tumblr posts I wanna know how much I can revel in the glory of the skrunkles with her!)
That is a great question, actually. And the answer is I don't really know.
So this is one of the downsides to writing things chapter by chapter. If I had gone into this going "oh heck yeah they're trans", this would've come up in the plot way sooner. It's nice information 1) for all the trans folks reading and 2) because it has the potential to inform the themes in the narrative. This whole story is about two chief things I think: death [the inevitability of] and identity [what defines you and why]. Why should you care if literally no one else (including the universe) does? That would be so cool to speak about in terms of a trans allegory! Why do you care about gender when it's just one thing in a world of crazy things? Or at the very least, how does it inform your identity? But this is a change I made on a whim suddenly, and I know Exactly Where I Want This Plot To Go, so trans topics and allegories as Plot Points probably won't happen.
On the more technical side of introducing trans characters -- how do you do that without just dropping "oh btw they're trans" in? Like, how do you make it a relevant thing to talk about, that doesn't feel forced or shoehorned in, especially this late in the story? Probably me overthinking, but I read it done wrong so often. It gets tired. And if I ever work on my original stories, there are trans characters in there! If I can figure out how to Do It Well in a fanfic, then I can figure out how to do it in original fiction someday maybe. So I kinda wanna take the introduction seriously? I've actually been thinking about it so much I've thought about rewriting the intro to the next chapter ahaha [it already needs rewritten in general, there's a lot going on, but the intro was going to be Helsknight waking up from something, and he sleeps shirtless, and not addressing top surgery scars then would be kinda silly I think.]
I can say at the very least, Gender Avoidant Wels probably won't factor in the story much. He is a character, but I don't think he'll become Enough of a character to faithfully address something like a trans self discovery arc. At best his issues with gender might be mentioned in passing.
Sorry! I know you probably want a better answer! My answer is basically: I don't know I'm still working on it. I want it to be there, but the capacity it's there is undecided.
That being said, I've been sitting on this glorious ask since the shenanigans started and the temptation to just Do That grows every time I read it:
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puppyeared · 4 months
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Been LOVING your lil magician folks recently please continue they're beautiful and very cute and cool and also very well-designed!! 🥺❤️
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thank you for the kind words !!! im not much of a writer, but i do have some sort of story in mind for them.. theyre bitter rivals who end up as roommates bc of their scatterbrained elderly landlord lol
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