#ill write more if people are interested.
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Mina Harker: Vampire Slayer
To everyone who thought “Gee, that post about Book accurate Mina being Dracula's reincarnated Nemesis instead of wife would be awesome to see” Well do i have good news for you!
I went ahead and wrote the thing!
It’s more of a proof of concept, to see if people like the ideas i have about it. And to get others to maybe look at them and write something better. Mostly, i wrote it because it sounded fun and i wanted to.
Anywho, here’s part(?) one of (???) of Mina the Vampire Slayer
words: 3.9k
She had always been an adventurous girl.
With sword and axe she ran off around the groves and the fields slaying dragons and giants. Her parents always chuckled as her weapons were whatever sturdy branches she could find. Her black hair ran wild and only got wilder as she grew.
She had lived her entire life in the lowlands. The tribe stayed close and why not? Fish and game were plentiful, the lands were easily planted, the surrounding tribes were quite peaceful with only the occasional feud between clans. Life was good.
The screams echoed across the camp as the fires, caused by the desperate and the dying, raged in the night.
Until The Beast came that was
She raced through the burning homes, stopping only to help those she could. Her long black hair was tangled and covered with ashes from the inferno around her as she grabbed a spear from one of the fallen warriors and charged forward.
Over the screams and the crackling of burning wood, the air was filled with the howling of wolves.
He had come long ago and built himself a stone fort much like the men of far Greece would. He had come in the night and all the elders could say was that night every wolf in the lowlands howled in pain and fear.
She slid under the archway, carved with Sigils to gods of the Earth, and beheld the central plaza. She looked upon a wolf, its eyes cloudy and hazy, as it tore into the arms of one of the hunters who had gone looking for The Beast.
At first he had kept to himself, back when they all believed him to be a man like themselves. Back before they knew him for the monster he was. The elders said he would come through the tribes and make merriment with everyone.
He had become a friend to so many throughout the lowlands and all of it was lies.
When the first people went missing they went to him for help. It was only when the missing kept growing they had begun to suspect. When their own hounds began to obey his commands they realized the Beast they had allowed in their midst. All the lowlands lived in fear now.
Fear of him.
She hurled the spear like a lightning bolt into the side of the beast and got it right through the chest. It went down quick, the only mercy she could afford the wolf at such a time. She raced over towards the fallen hunter and was shocked to find that she knew him.
“Why?” Was all she asked the dying man.
“He… He took her.” He coughed, his breath struggling around the blood. “I… I wanted to save her…” She felt him begin to still, his breath growing short till he fell limp in her arms.
The howling was growing faint, The Beast had gotten his fill of the lowlanders and would draw back to his stone fort in the mountains. He would sup and revel in the slaves he had acquired and would delight himself in the torment and suffering they felt.
Just as he had always done, and would always do. To her people, to the other tribes in the lowlands, to anyone and anything that came across his crimson gaze.
And all she could feel was hate. Hatred for him, hatred for what he had done to the people she loved. Hatred for the lives he ruined, hatred for the people he broke.
Seeing the burning wreckage of her home, something that she had seen many times before when The Beast came to pillage, and looking at the bodies around her, something inside her broke.
She screamed at the smoke filled skies, she screamed till her throat burned and her chest tightened. She screamed even when the fires died down and the survivors drew around her.
She screamed till all she had left were tears. She got up, the ash on her face mixing with her tears all the while. The people all around her were frightened, terrified, and broken. And just like her, they all had eyes filled with hate.
“Enough.” She pulled the spear from the side of the fallen wolf and the axe that was gripped in the dead hunter's hands, and glared towards them all. “Enough!”
The people stared at her, waiting.
“I’ve had enough! You’ve had enough! Every tribe in the lowlands has had enough!” She growled low in her throat, gripping the weapons in her hands like they were the very last things in this world.
“I’m going to kill him.” grumbles and growls spread through the crowd. “I’m going to kill him, and I will never rest until I do!” The grumbles and growls turned into yelling and shouts, the people bayed for bloody vengeance. “Send every messenger we have left to every tribe who will listen, and every tribe that won't: Before The Beast slinks out of his lair again we will burn it to the ground around him!”
Cries of hate and anger rang out through the approaching dawn as the tribe prepared for war. She simply glared through the smoke towards the east, towards Him.
He would die by her hands.
This she swore.
**********
The black forest surrounded her as she rode like all the hounds of hell were behind her.
Considering the howling all around her, that wasn’t quite far off. Her horse was clearly terrified but was still a well trained war beast. It would hold fast even in the face of death, and though she would do her best to avoid as such it was most likely inevitable they would both die here tonight.
The horse was supposed to go towards some poncy nobleman who wanted to show off to his friends before he left for the second crusade. It was a beautiful chestnut mare with splashes of white all about her barrel and snout. She had decided that her needs were greater and, with a final prayer at the chapel, had departed.
It had taken her years to get to this point: years of training herself to fight with a sword, years of scavenging battlefields for armor and weapons, years of searching and questing had all led to this one singular moment.
She had found him, the Demon that had tortured her parents and killed her best friend… her everything.
The trees stood like dark monoliths as the horse weaved between the trunks. Flashes of fur and fangs shot through the mists around her as the wolves kept apace with her. One particularly fearsome specimen leapt out from the darkness and sought to sink its jaws in the horse's neck.
Without even moving her head, she brought her sword up in a vicious swing that removed the creature's head before bringing it down on another wolf that had been edging closer and closer.
All throughout the chase, she never took her eyes off of the Demon before her.
Black as night with eyes like hellfire, the wolf raced ahead of her. She’d chased him into the carpathians and back again, each time taking out the demons He left behind.
She could not say that the journey was all bad. She had made many enemies over this quest, more enemies than a woman should ever have outside of a noble's courtroom. And yet, despite the pain and the wounds and the constant fight with death, she had also made friends.
Wonderful friends. Companions and Comrades in Arms to face off against the Demon and his fiends. She’d even met the man she would marry on her quest.
At any other time, the thought of her love would have drawn a smile to her face. But nothing could remove the snarl of rage that had been cemented since she had found Him.
She’d heard of the tales of the Black Wolf, and had waited. For days on end she waited for him to reappear in the village. And finally, like the gluttonous demon he was, he appeared. He had been shocked when she had broken down the door to the room where his prey was struggling in his grasp, even more shocked when she’d taken her sword and tried to cut off his head then and there with a scream.
He’d taken the form of a wolf and fled and she had given chase. She’d run him down for hours and now, in the middle of the Black Forest she finally, after more than a decade of fighting, had him right in her grasp.
He wouldn’t leave this forest alive.
As if God gave her the wings of an angel, her horse drew closer to the fleeing Demon. Both her hair and her mare's mane flew through the wind free and clear. He made a quick turn to the left and had her charging towards an approaching wolf pack.
She roared as she wheeled after him, killing yet another wolf with a vicious blow. Her steel armor had long since gone red, covering up the scratches and dents from her battles against the Demon.
She chased him for what felt like days, ever so slowly growing closer and closer to the Demon. Every twist and turn he made she was there: Sword in hand and hatred in her eyes. Wolves came by the dozens to hound her every movement. Those that stayed simply chasing she ignored while those who came at her with fang and claw were cut down.
The mists came about to blind her and she simply followed the sound of The Demons footfalls. Yet another wolf came at her with a snarling leap and she cut it apart as she finally came within killing distance of the Demon
She could make out the individual hairs on his wolfish form and brought her sword up, a roar of anger on her lips that shook through the forest for miles on end. The Demon looked back at her, its hellfire red eyes filled with malice and rage.
And buried deep beneath both, she could see the very first hints of fear.
She kept screaming even as she brought her blade down.
**********
The manor stood half finished amidst the rocky mountains of the Pyrenees. Teams of workers from across lower France and the kingdom of Aragon worked day and night to finish the vast construction. It would be a mighty fortress once finished, one of a number that would be built all across Europe at the direction of her prey.
He did ever so like having backup options.
Like a wraith she snuck through the vast camps of sleeping workers and made her way to the base of the fortress as masses of rising laborers came to begin toiling through the day while their nighttime brothers went to rest up for the coming dark.
It was almost laughably easy to slip into the lower reaches of the construct as the many dungeons and basements were, after the foundation, the first to be finished up. The workers had grumbled at the oddity of how deep and winding their master wanted the dungeons to go, all built around a central chamber that he specified would be shaped like a small throne room once done.
Of course, they also complained about the rising number of missing persons from the work camps. Most simply thought that they left in the middle of the night but there was enough… strangeness that they hurried with their work so they could all go home and leave this wretched place.
Workers grumbled, complained over their drinks at how strange and unnatural everything was, and those who listened carried the rumors onward to spread like wildfire across France until they came upon her ears.
She knew, she knew deep in her heart it was Him. He was attempting to spread out from whatever hole he hid in after being defeated the last time.
She decided to send him back in.
Her outfit blended in with the darkness of the dungeons, leaving her nothing more than a shadow as she flit from room to room searching. She knew where he was in this grand maze, but she wanted to be certain that he would have no backup or traps waiting for her when they clashed.
As she drew closer and closer to her target as she checked the outlying rooms, she heard the sound of her heart begin to beat like a drum as she finally appeared at the central chamber.
It was a large chamber made with many wooden pieces of furniture and timber columns carved to look like the Reaper, though it was particularly threadbare of the many trophies and treasures she knew He liked to hoard like a dragon from legend. AT the dead center of the currently vold and dreary room was a massive coffin delicately carved with profane symbols and horrible scenes of death and murder.
‘He does so like to show off’ she thought to herself as she waited. She waited for any sign to appear that he was not currently resting in the coffin. If she had gotten this wrong even slightly, she would die.
She would take him down with her.
An hour passed, then two, and finally she knew that either he was far far away from her reach or he was in the coffin. Either way was fine for her plan, the only difference would be if she had to fight the monster.
She got to work reaching to take the satchel off of her bag and remove the contents: ten pounds of dry kindling. She spread it around the coffin evenly, making sure to spread as much of the sun dried leaves and wood shaving over the twigs and branches as she could.
Then she brought out her flint and tinder.
Sparks flared out into the darkness and fell across the kindling she had spread. She kept at it till she finally began to see an orange glow before her eyes. She quickly drew back and waited.
The glow of burning kindling spread, turning into raw flame as it spread all around the coffin. The lid began to burn as the wood began to smolder and glow hot. The various pieces of woodcraft furniture also caught flame all around her till the room went up like an inferno.
And still she waited.
Just as she began to turn around to flee back where she came from the coffin burst apart and the lid flew off with a scream of rage and pain.
Her prey hurled himself from the burning casket and looked about the ruined room in a rage.
“Things not going to plan?” She asked simply as she threw off her cloak into a nearby fire.
Her prey whirled around, rage plain on his face as he looked her up and down. She had dressed in simple leathers like what a brigand or highwayman would wear, but had a chainshirt and armored shin guards. In one hand she held an old long sword.
A familiar long sword.
“The last time I saw that blade, it was lost in the Black Forest.” Her prey said slowly, his mind working feverishly as he tried to understand. “How did-”
She cut him off “The last time you saw this blade.” She said as she began to walk towards him. “It was buried in your stomach in the middle of the Black Forest.”
She felt a small thrill as he actually took a nervous step back. He looked into her eyes and his burning crimson eyes widened in shock.
“I killed you.” He whispered as he stared at her like he had seen a ghost. Perhaps he had. “My wolves took down your horse and I ripped out your throat. How are you back!? How are you here!?”
“Simple.” She said right before she charged forward, her blade glinting in the light of the fire all around them.
“I’m back to kill you.”
**********
Abe’s arms burned with the exertion.
The teenager heaved yet another mound of dirt out of the ground, adding it to the pile next to the hole he stood in. He had to get it right.
Father would have wanted him to get it right.
That thought, like a spear, shot straight into his soul and he felt the shovel slip from his fingers as he was overcome with the grief that had become his closest friend these last few days. He collapsed into the dirt, tears falling freely from his eyes as his body shook.
A pair of strong arms wrapped him in a gentle hug as a voice began to make comforting sounds towards the grieving boy.
Abe sobbed, he sobbed for his mother who had died slowly over days. He sobbed for his father who had been killed by the thing that had replaced his mother. And he cried that they both were now dead.
‘There but for the grace of god…’ Abe thought to himself as he finally felt calm enough to try and stand.
“Whoa there lad. Just take it easy.” The kind voice said, her tone just as calm and reassuring as before.
She was old, older than even his grandfather had been before he passed away. Her long curly hair was as white as fresh snow while her body was wrinkled with age. Despite everything, though, her body was also quite fearsome to behold.
Her arms were still muscular and covered with nicks and scars and her hair was wrapped tight in a simple bun, revealing that though it was covered in wrinkles her face was still stern and commanding as ever.
She was dressed in a simple soldier's uniform, and she still refused to tell him how she acquired such a thing, and it was dirty and torn from what looked to be a lifetime of use. A thick workman's belt wrapped around her waist and held an odd and unusual assortment of tools: Hacksaws, stakes, vials of water, and odd smelling white flowers oddly enough.
She’d yet to introduce herself even after dispatching the horrid things his mother had become.
Abe still couldn’t bring himself to care.
His parents were dead, what more was there to say? That his mother was possessed by a demon? that they hadn’t prayed hard enough? That old misses Greta down the road really had cursed his father after he bumped into her at the market two months ago?
The thought caused a laugh to almost bubble up from him and yet it came out as a mix between a hiccup and a sob.
“It’s never an easy thing, burying those you love.” She said, her eyes crinkling as she smiled at him. “No boy as young as you should have to bury them alone.”
“I’m not a boy!” Abe protested lightly, still numb. “I’m almost sixteen.”
The old woman just smiled at him. “Even brave young men should never have to bury someone alone.”
Together they worked in silence, the sun rose higher and higher in the sky before it began to fall once more. The sky was orange and purple before they finally finished. His parents are now freshly buried in the ground with wreathes of white flowers around their heads and rosaries in their hands.
“I just wish I knew why.” Abe muttered to himself.
“Believe me, you don't.” She replied simply before wincing. That was entirely the wrong thing to say. She really had gotten old.
Abe whirled around and looked her in the eye, his face shocked. “You know.” it wasn’t a question.
She sighed to herself. “Yes, I do.”
“Please.” Abe begged, he could feel fresh tears begin to pool in his eyes and he begged. “What killed them?”
She looked at him, really looked at him. She could see… she could see a girl screaming amongst a burning tribe. A knight riding down a black wolf with a roar of anger. A thief stealing into a castle to torch it to the ground. A soldier leading a band of fellow warriors to kill a monster. A soldier filled with hate who wore a hundred different faces.
All those faces stared back at her from the eyes of a boy who had just lost everything.
“If I tell you, there's no going back.” She said, kneeling down on bad knees to look him in the eyes. “Once you know what’s out there, you can never return from it.”
“I can handle it.” Abe said seriously.
“Really? Even when I train you how to recognize the signs? When I teach you how to kill the things they leave behind? When you have to give up your nights off from university to give your nights to training?”
To his credit, Abraham Van Helsing didn't hesitate for a second before nodding. As he was now, his rage would destroy him like it did so many before him.
She’d have to teach him how to live before she could teach him how to Hunt.
“Say a few last words before we head back to your house. You’ll need to take only what you need.” She told him as she got back up. “I’m not sure how much longer I have but I'll teach you everything I know come hell or high water.”
“Thank you… um…” Abe trailed off as he just continued to look at her.
She chuckled. “My name is-”
**********
“-Mina! Mina, it’s him”
Mina Harker looked away from the beautiful woman she had been staring at… respectfully to look at who her darling husband was, and wasn’t that a thought that would never grow old.
As soon as her eyes fell on the dark clad figure something felt different. He was tall, with a dark mustache and darker hair. His clothes were fine, as if fit for high society. Not that high society would enjoy the presence of a man with a face as cold and cruel as he wore out in the open. Usually you need to hide such a face amongst them.
She looked at the cold and cruel looking man, with his ruby red lips and his pale white skin, and she felt something new. Something different. She almost felt like she knew this man and yet had never seen him before in her life.
She knew one thing though: She hated him.
Her Jonathan was trembling, shaking like a leaf as they both watched him disappear after the beautiful woman she'd seen earlier. She hated him, for she knew that he was responsible for the state her husband was in.
But even as she comforted Jonathan on the park bench she led him to for fear he would collapse, she could feel that there was almost… more to her hatred.
She hated him like God hated the Devil. She…
She wanted to kill him.
Had it been any other situation, Mina Harker would be terrified of her murderous impulse against someone she did not know.
But this was not any other situation. This was a situation where she had to hold her Jonathan as he trembled in his sleep every night, where he had just come down with an attack of panic at the sight of the man, where her best friend lay dead and a very loud part of her mind screamed that she was dead because of Him.
She welcomed the murderous impulses against the monster that had caused this.
#dracula#Dracula daily#mina harker#mina murray#mina harker: vampire hunter#jonathan harker#abraham van helsing#jonmina#but only near the end im afraid.#ill write more if people are interested.#dracula au
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I dont know how many of you will agree with this, but recently I had a realisation about Kevin. lt could be broken down to 3 phases:
The first is that Kevin is existing in very extreme emotional states - he either completely removes his emotions and as such vulnerability from a situation, or he goes all in reactive, which ends up with him being extremely dominant and agressive in his expression. The in between only happens when he is in the process of bouncing from one to the other.
Here is why I think he acts as such: as a kid, he had to really moderate how he expressed himself and constantly adapted to the situation. He had to be the golden child for the cameras, he had to be unfallible as an athlete due to his legacy, at the same time, he had to be submissive and lesser than for Riko and Tetsuji. Since most of the attention he got was both very keen and very dominant while emotionally removed (I wonder how much actual prize he got for normal things), it created a deeply rooted fear of honesty. It would be pretty natural for him to feel resentment at constantly not being the right thing, always lacking. As such, he became ultimately dishonest in his expression, which makes him repellant to opening up and being vulnerable in relationships. I used to think most of his dishonesty stemmed from fear because the truths he knew were very delicate and dangerous, but I am wondering if it wasn't born out of this deeper feeling of inadequacy. As a result, the Kevin we meet is used to fitting into someone else's ideas, and that's because he feels like every relationship is based on him GIVING them something of himself. Every one, not just the one with Riko. Living is a sacrifice of self for him, and he will end up, willingly or not, molding himself into whatever he feels he has to give away. When he asks for Wymack to take him in, when he makes the deal woth Andrew, when he wants Neil to believe in a future, when he drops all conctact with Thea, or Jean, after leaving the ravens. He feels like it's expected of him to be what others want to see him as and not what he wants to be. He can't be both of those things at once, so he is what they want or nothing at all. Just think of his attachment to the number two on his cheek and the meltdown that accompanied him, finally choosing to stand up for himself. To finally choose to come into his own identity.
That mechanism would lead from the beginning to him being very removed from his own wants in order to protect them. So, after a while, he would lose his sense of self. Which is funny, because that would lead to him having to relearn it through first finding the negative image of his preferences and his true self, like when capturing a scene in traditional photography.
As such, he is able to pinpoint everything he hates, dislikes, doesn't want and agree with - because they are an immediate danger. But that doesn't immediately lead him to finding what he likes, what he wants or what he is.
And this is where it gets interesting. This behaviour would also be responsible for him feeling very secretive about everything he does find that he likes and enjoys. For example history, if someone made it into a adressed thing, that he likes history, it would feel like he lost that interest, for the sole reason it's not just his anymore. You with me? Not in general, but in a personal relationship. That's why he is so annoyed at people not being good enough for his standards at exy but also not being excited at them caring or trying to meet them, only more and more critical even when he is totally having fun and excited about this.
The fact that even his interest in something like history could be demonized isba pretty common protection mechnaism. That's because when we shelter ourselves by pretending to not exist we are completely vulnerable when that illusion drops. It makes sense that he keeps everyone and everything at an arm's length with his cold and biting demeanour. Feeling like every person is a threat to who he is explains how screwed up almost all of his relationships are.
#kevin day#psychoanalysis of people who dont exist is my special interest lol#i still think he is a total dick tho#ill be writing much much more about his this is just the foundation for my piramid lovers#kevin day headcanon#kevin day hc#kevin day meta#aftg#all for the game#tfc#the foxhole court#the sunshine court#thea muldani#david wymack#nora sakavic
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trying to write something about how much i hate the ‘misandry in utena/the utena fandom’ crowd but it feels kind of redundant to me. i think i just don’t consider people who use the word ‘misandry’ serious people. i do however feel an obligation to occasionally make my position clear on that front, because im aware i tougapost and some people love to bring that guy up as the misandry in the utena fandom poster boy. which is so fucking stupid because touga is not victimised by ‘misandry’, touga is victimised by homophobic violence which is wrapped up in misogynistic violence, both of which are the cogs in the machine we call patriarchy. touga is not affected by misogyny in the same way that anthy is, that’s one of the key takeaways you can get from their being foils, and i don’t really like the whole ‘oh patriarchy hurts men too’ stuff because it neglects the fact that men reap so many material benefits from what some people deem ‘harm’ to them (emotional repression being the big one. it’s not great but when you’re the privileged party and gain power from it, who cares? it’s like the inverse of kozue trying to use sexuality to gain power: she can’t do that). but touga is a shitty dysfunctional person who has been shaped by violence and in turn perpetuated violence, and his character excels, imho, at examining how patriarchy functions and attempts to homogenise life’s many complexities. same deal as nanami really. they just play different roles in this gender essentialist nightmare that crunches out any grit. and you can extend that idea to all rgu characters but i am who i am and that is a kiryuu siblings enjoyer
#i always say that tougaheads are either the stupidest or wisest utena fans#you know are you blorbo-ifiying him in a way that would stab anthy to death with a million swords imbued with human hatred#or are you considering his character in all his awfulness and complexity and attempting to internalise the things you can learn from him??#don’t have the energy for complex thoughts tonight and yet ive written all this out#sorry for the brain fart#one day ill write this shit out properly with all my transfeminist theory properly cited#but for now i will half remember passages from whipping girl and gesture hysterically at himemiya anthy my best friend himemiya anthy#and also occasionally try to convince people that touga’s perspective is interesting to consider#i mean it’s horrific and maddening and frequently deeply uncomfortable and to be clear as a person?? hate that guy#but. oh i don’t know. oh i don’t know. extending compassion towards him helped me a lot personally#he anthy and nanami all mean more to me than i can really express#and i think none of them should ever speak to each other ever again#maybe anthy is allowed one run in with both of them separately. and she gets to dunk on them. but maybe not#ANYWAY!#dais.txt
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The Blight family are so interesting IN THEORY. In execution they are....😬
#i dont mean that like. theyre flawed characters#i LOVE flawed characters. nothing i love more than seeing some messy toxic bitches do messy toxic bitch things#i love the exploration of unhealthy family dynamics#i love the trope of a rich shiny perfect family who are secretly fucked up and miserable#i love the kind of characters that environment creates#whether it be gaslighting gatekeeping girlbossing assholes#or people who are desperately trying to be good. or to break away from the role theyve been forced into#or people who are in a little more of a grey area. people who have a good side and a shitty side#its all fun and interesting#the problem with the blights is their characterization is just so....clunky. sloppy. not very good#alador amity and the twins all suffer from inconsistent writing#alador is a complex case to delve into. and you dont wanna listen to me dissecting him#so ill just say that he could have been handled better#ironically Odalia is the most consistently written character of them all#shes very surface level evil. shes not very interesting#I enjoy Odalia. I think she's funny in just how unapologetically shitty she is#and her VA gives such an entertaining performance#but she is like. Hollow. There is nothing going on with her other than abusive mom and capitalist#but by god at least she knows what shes about
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everyday i constantly think of masato's wheelchair and if that's his only one/main one no wonder he's so pissed at everyone
#snap chats#someone pointed this out to me like last year so im stealing it sorry cause I Think Of It Constantly#the handling of masato's disability will forever annoy me esp with how vague it is but esp his chair#one day ill draw masato with an appropriate wheelchair. maybe then he'll be happy for once#in a way i guess it could tie into how restricted or trapped he felt since the type of chair he's shown is more like. a hospital one#and not one youd really use as a regular user- like in that vein it is a bit of storytelling in that he can ONLY go out with help#since hospital chairs are SO much different from home chairs ESPECIALLY in regards to mobility and independence the user has#AND NOT TO MENTION HOW UNCOMFORTABLE THOSE CHAIRS ARE get his ass a proper cushion P L E A S E#like it portrays the idea that its unfathomable for him to go anywhere on his own and so in that vein . Interesting Storytelling#theres a lot of implications going on here if im so honest and again it makes for Really Interesting Story Telling#however i refuse to give rgg credit like that when it comes to disabilities. ... they havent earned that from me yet#see this is why the vagueness of his condition annoys me because he's shown to be independent enough to roll himself to his elevator#and presumably get himself dressed but he cant have a proper chair ?#because ik there are people who have expressed they have conditions where even writing is tiring#so if his condition was in-line with that and it was hard for him to push himself in his chair then i could buy it#obviously the issue lies with his lungs but i just want to know the full extent yk...#to wrap this up tho ive been thinking of character design in rgg and how we dont give credit to it enough#sooooo if i make a second post ten minutes from now thats why cause i keep forgetting to spam my thoughts on here LMAO#ok bye
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okay so im thinking about luke (again) and for some reason all im wondering about is if, growing up, he knew what he looked like. because stick with me here, just imagine a young luke, six or seven and he’s staring at his own warped face in the metallic refection of water barrel or in the belly of a droid. the mirror in the homestead has been broken for ages and owen and beru can’t spare the credits to replace it. think of him just looking at the hazy vision of himself and wondering if the blond flop on top of his head bears any resemblance to that of his birth mother. if the flecks of dirt on his cheeks that beru calls ‘freckles’ are something he got from his birth father. imagine an older luke now, ten or twelve, sitting in front of aunt beru as she brushes his hair back from his face as she tells him what colour his eyes are, how his stomach flips and his hand turn into fists because how can she says he’s handsome when he can’t see for himself? imagine an even older luke, fifteen or sixteen, and owen finally lugs a busted old mirror through the door. the frame on it has gone from varnished gold to faded copper, shadowed in the corners and cracked across the bottom, but it’s real. imagine him sitting in front of it for hours, picking apart the pieces of his face and finally, for once in his life getting a sense for who luke skywalker actually is. imagine a luke who is now a young man, newly nineteen and owen and beru surprised him with a gift, a true relic of the past. a photograph. the truest capturing of one’s visage, of one’s soul. an image of the three of them together, one that luke proudly places in his room. imagine again, days later, luke stumbling home to find it all gone. burned and gone are the mirror, the photo. owen. beru. imagine the soot blowing into lukes face, covering his freckles, clinging to him, and how for a moment he must wonder if his hair has gone from blonde to black with it. imagine further, if you will, how he never cares to know. never looks to see even when he gets to echo base and there are suddenly mirrors in every fresher. he doesn’t need to see. he can feel it, the ash that sticks to him, even after he scrubs his skin pink and raw. he knows the luke skywalker that he looked at in the mirror back on the homestead will not be the one he sees this time. because that luke is gone and will never be again and he can’t stand the thought of looking in those perfect, shining mirrors, because he knows the image he’ll see will be warped anyways.
#luke skywalker#star wars#this thought has been haunting me for months now#MONTHS#and i couldn’t decide if i wanted to write a fic around it or inflict it onto y’all#but writing fics has been tough recently so y’all get it now#ill still maybe write a more in depth fic exploring the idea though if people are interested#mj.chatter
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yo dude i was really curious and i just read yr primal fear fic, just wanted to say that your writing is genuinely so impressive.. not a lot of people could take a prompt like this and actually give it so much substance, your stuff shows such a deep level of understanding of the media ur working with +intuitiveness.. like characterizing shit well from 90s movies is crazy hard and u like immediately got how to write an in-character martin vail so if u can do that u can do any thing im like blown away 🙈 cant wait to see what u do in the future with yr original stuff, youre a beast with the pen ✍️✍️
sobbing for real dude.... this is so kind... "shows such a deep understanding of the media youre working with" truly there is few better compliments 😭 the 'from 90s movies' part is hard as hell sometimes yeah... I feel like I understand the psyche pretty well but there's so much just general milieu that's easy to just... not even realize is relevant. Of course it helps that most of my readers are also not particularly familiar with the 90s lmao but. Idk I try to keep that post-fall of the soviet union pre-9/11 immense nihilism in mind. Fortunately I have some friends who have a pretty strong lock on the vibe for one reason or another who help too— I assume they'd tell me if it was a 'he would not fucking say that' situation haha. It's funny wrt Martin Vail because I do think I did him pretty passably.. I don't always mesh into characters well per se; like for Tyler, I think I understand him pretty well but it's still tricky to figure out how to actually word what he says — I'm tempted to outsource to @a-forsteri who has a goddamn LOCK on it... we should collab, bestie... but regardless yeah Vail was an interesting one for sure. You only get so much characterization of him in the movie, really. Thanks for reading and I'm really glad you enjoyed it, comments like this are what keep me going fr :')
#asks#apologies if this just seems like rambling in response haha#u: your original stuff#me: dodges and runs#nah... i want to do that too#im just first and foremost a fic writer in that i really enjoy the specific Art of working with preexisting characters and materials.#the intertextuality of it and base assumptions which can be exaggerated or inverted.... it's very interesting and fun for me.#otoh i really like the little story i came up with in my head. i would love to come up with more#i need to just. work out how to write longer things i think. maybe ill do the chuck strat and just treat the whole thing as a collection of#short stories#just gonna work out how to introduce people to characters....#hahaha
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i hate nerd and fandom culture so fucking much i hate how it took such interesting genres and forms of storytelling and turned them into slop generating machines to sell the most pin back buttons and funko pops and disney+ subscriptions
#and i just cannot CANNOT understand how people dont get embarrassed to be dedicating so much of their identities to corporate media#like arent you curious about what else the world can offer?#one day ill write the most scathing essay on capitalism art and fandom MARK MY WORDS because if ppl on the internet gave#half the energy they give to big fucking corporate garbage shows and shit to indie artists i think the world would be a much better place#or at least more interesting. ANYWAY!#m
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would you guys be interested in like a serialized weekly release of one of my WIPs rn? it's divided into chapters which themselves are divided into smaller parts, and the way it is right now i have enough for 13 posts.
title is Baby Birds, and it's a series of journal entries from Ava Carreon, a freshly eighteen year old high school senior who suddenly starts lactating glue. kind of like if jennifer's body was even weirder about bodily fluids. let me know what yall think!
format would look like this probably
#baby birds#ive been saving up short stories mostly for like publication instead of sharing everything on tumblr as is my instinct#but honestly this is super from my heart and nothing i write and publish externally connects me with people the way self-pubbed stuff#on tumblr does. also this is looking less like a book and more like a weird newsletter/comic thing. so idk im thinking about it#im also hesitant to commit myself to another project esp given my mental state rn but i have a lot of material pre-written and ppl i've#shared it with have seemed engaged and interested. so . yeah!#i dont want to host it on substack so ill look for something. i might just host it here or make a sideblog or something honestly
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i really love how much your perspective on... basically everything inoue says to ryoma in ishin! changes on the second playthrough
knowing that he grassed "saito" up to kondo immediately and fucking PLAYS DUMB whenever he says something immediately suspect, and yet, through all of this, covers for his sorry ass at every turn, even knowing there's a real possibility ryoma would cut him down on the spot if he found out who he was
both of them bullshit each other so much through the whole game, and it makes me sad they didn't ever get to speak as equals with no false names attached
#ishin spoilers#kamo-san drilling ryoma in his kenjutsu style... it would be too perfect#a legendary swordsman passing on the torch kinda thing#it's an interesting look at inoue/kashiwagi's character as well; as someone who feels indebted to others & acts based on it#his loyalty to kondo isami coming from the fact he gave kamo + hirama + hirayama renewed purpose and a new start in life#and his sympathy towards ryoma having assassinated his dad & the shared experience of living in the shinsengumi under a fake name#he makes me incredibly ill#in more ways than one i think#inoue genzaburo#kashiwagi osamu#sakamoto ryoma#kiryu kazuma#ishin#text#meta#another reason i'm sad more people didn't play ishin tbh. like you're telling me i have to write the inoue character study myself?#i can barely write a good tumblr post#sure it is past time i was sleeping but#i don't think writing this earlier would have been any better#who do i have to pay to write me the inoue character analysis fic of my dreams
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y’know what should have happened cquackity should have killed cdream last spring instead of just torturing him. 1) it would have gotten rid of cdream solving all my problems and 2) the conflicting guilt and righteous fury would have made quackity even sexier. him and sam could write it off as an ‘accident’ and bond over this fucked up secret only they know about it would be just like h—
#dream smp#i’m normally not. like. a rewrites guy but my heads going crazyyyyy rn this has potential tell me it doesnt have potential#put cquackity on that will graham arc i want him so isolated because hes scared of how good it felt#so thennn it makes his whole stupid rivalry with wilbur more interesting because wilbur#in his head#is a man who’s seen the consequences of his actions where quackity is just waiting for his#and they can have a cooler deeper discussion about guilt and morality than whatever the burger arc was#and eventually it just makes them both realize they have to keep living. and go back to the people they love instead of cutting off#ok gonna stop writing fic in the tags cut myself off while im ahead but#cquackity should kill. that’s all#abuse ment#by proxy#ig#sorry im being a little deranged maybe ill delete this outta shame later AHDKDJDKDJDKD
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been looking in tags for a few days now to see if anyone else found the whole high cloud quintet and related story to be a bit.....poorly written, nonsensical, contradictory, full of plot holes and loose ends, etc. apparently i'm not the only one. (and i'm not even talking about shipping stuff, because any time I saw someone mad about bad writing, someone always replies to be homophobic and laugh about failed ships. weirdos.) it could have been so good but was thrown into the garbage for the most part (IF you noticed all the plot holes and contradiction. if not, then it's a fine enough story tbh. I expect most people to see it on surface level and not read all the little hidden lore bits and try to piece it together like my autistic brain did. which is ok! enjoy it if you liked it and ignore me 😆)
#apparently one of the writers did it on purpose. wont explain here. you can find it elsewhere. but it makes sense now#that's why it fell apart and didnt make sense in the end#ive seem people say anyone mad about it is a shipper and thats why. they use it as an excuse to be homophobes#youre gross get out of thos fandom. im here as someone upset about the story who was very skeptical about any ship theories and focused#more on plot theories and overall friendship and stuff so its not even about shipping you het weirdos!!!#the contradictions and plot holes are bd regrdless of who you ship lmao stop reducing it to that#aure its fine if you ignlre those plot holes. but it happened to be the little plot holes that interested me the most so its obvious to me😅#cant wait until a talented writer in the fandom rewrites the whole story a lot better and fills in the holes and ties up the end better#please someone do this 😭#lee text#hsr#i just wanted a close found family who met a tragic end#my idea for a better way to write it is dan feng wanted free from the high elder cycle and yingxing helped him create a new elder#but it went wrong and failed because the preceptors fed him wrong info hopong it woukd destroy dan feng since they hated him#instead it was yingxing that died and dan feng selfishly brought him back somehow and thats why hes immortal and hates dan heng now#they created a monster in the process that made a mess and baiheng died trying to kill it maybe but hit its weak spot#so it was weaked enough for jingliu to slay it#maybe for a plot twist jing yuan somehow knew the preceptors were up to something and didnt stop the two because#they were too stubborn and he knew it would do nothing#we know the dragon heart disappeared so either it ended becoming bailu in the end#or it could be inaide blade bow. another fun possible plot twist. they never explained where it went so it coukd be a n y w h e r e#i had other ideas but i forget now. bht baiheng deserves better as well. just being a plot mechanism to make two dudes be stupid#is kinda bland and boring and wasted her character. she deserves better too!!!!#id write this if i had the time and brain power but ill hope someone else does it instead#OH yeah i forgot a big idea. dan feng and yingxing perhaps try to also kill the arbor and end the abundance and long life/reincarnation#and maybe that was one part that led to it all going wrong or something. since yingxing wanted revenge on the abundance for destroying#his home and family???? and dan feng wanted to escape the cycle? similar wants that worked together snd failed#these are all ideas from past theories i read and my own ideas i came up with all of which are better than what that bad writer did!#these are very incomplete ideas that im sure someone else can write better#lee rambles
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I think I'm going to cut back on the work I put into mods and especially making patches for them.
If so few people bother to come back and endorse mods, why should I even think they liked them enough to actually use them?
#whining about mods#the modding scene just sucks to be a creator in idk#i will do less awful tedious work and just make only the stuff that interests me#and from my experience the awful tedious work will never get done#anyways endorsing mods is a sure-fire way to actually recieve more content#i dont think ill ever make anything on the scale of Project ja-Kha'jay or Khajiit Has Wares again#lunar lattice tweaks is not going to be perfect and im not going to write multiple tutorials on how to use it#25/1300 people endorsed my Argonian crests mods. why would that encourage me to keep adding to it?#and then people just keep asking if theres something to distribute them to NPCs...
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are we really back to "oh you support (blank)? name ten people who (do/are) that right now or else youre lying for allyship points and everything you have to say should be disregarded". i thought we left that back in like. 2012 misogynist nerdbro culture
#i have seen it on two entirely separate topics lately and its like. hello?????#'if you cant name 10 trans authors off the top of your head you shouldnt be talking about trans issues full stop.#i dont think thats an unreasonable expectation for anyone wanting to engage in rational discourse' how about we all go outside#because like yeah i couldnt name you too many trans authors but given my transgenderismness i think i do in#fact still deserve a seat at the table. and i dont think there should be a prerequisite academic education level to be allowed to talk.#'but you could find them for free-' yes‚ you can‚ but people should still be allowed to a) choose what they read based#off of what interests them and not mildly-to-extremely dense nonfiction writing and still Talk About Their Own Lives And Have#Opinions#shockingly not reading a lot of one specific type of author doesnt prevent a person from having reasonable and valuable opinions#if youre not capable of parsing someones argument because theyre not well-read enough then that just imo means you dont actually understand#the things youve read to be able to give them a synopsis#this isnt school. we're not being graded. there is no required reading and you are perfectly capable of giving people an#explanation on your stances if theyre unfamiliar with them#i had a b) but i dont remember what it was‚ i think it probably was part of what i covered there that i thought was a separate thought#but yeah just like. idk you can just say 'hey i would really recommend reading xyz but to summarize‚ (thing that disproves them)'#it is not . difficult to either Explain yourself or‚ if that is not possible‚ Not be condescending to the person youre not willing to teach#for not knowing#ill stop there bc ive already done that ramble before but. yes#origibberish#edit: ok upon reread i got turned around and switched from addressing the less educated one conveying their arguments#to the more well read one#bc that was the b is i was gonna talk about both#yall get what i mean though just like. split it in half and flip it turnways
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im gonna try n start being more active cuz i kinda feel like maybe my mental health just got worse when i Wasnt posting or doing anyhing . so expect more nishi ^_^
#nishi thinking..#this is true for midoribai too. honestly idc if nobody interacts. im gonna keep doing stuff#worrying over midoribai has really affected my mental health so im just not gonna worry about ny of that. if worst comes to worst then#ill just make it my why tee tee dee/writing/whatever sideblog#i mean. ofc i still Really want people to still interact and be interested in rp but i guess i cant really force it. so..! ill do more Stuf
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life is falling through my fingers more that usually
#i’ve been in a pretty much constant state of panic since january#and it’s gotten worse recently bc of 1. thesis writing (or lack thereof)#2. administrative problems at uni that i caused due to the constant state of anxiety and depression#like whyyyy do things like going to the uni office send me spiraling like nothing else#and i’ve been feeling weird and disconnected for a while now and nothing seems to interest me anymore#like i’m light headed in the worst way and i think if one thing goes badly i’ll genuinely fall down crying#and i can’t seem to do anything productive bc of the anxiety either#ok i checked usos. the administrative problem got more or less solved#oh thank god#i love depression loveee it love causing problems for myself that i later have to bother other people about bc i can’t solve them by myself#esp when you have to admit to them that mental illness is what caused them bc even when they’re sympathetic and nice about it i still feel#like such a pathetic idiot my god#also i’ve been thinking a lot abt how a pattern that repeats in my life is the lack of closure#from silly things to more serious ones#like how i didn’t attend my elementary school graduation nor the hs one#the first one bc of travelling and the second bc of covid#so i just closed my laptop and then went to pick up my diploma after matura results and that was it i never saw any of my teachers or#thanked them etc#and how all my friendships that died out were this kind of sudden drop like nothing happened but we just stopped talking one day and that#was it and idk where we stand#and how i seem to leave loose threads everywhere i go and i can’t tell if it’s just a coincidence or if i do that on purpose but#unconciously so as to not have to deal with things ending bc that scares me#i’ve never felt grounded in any moment and it’s so strange#also yeah yeah weird behaviour meant to save me from abandonment whatever#📓#niedziela wieczór i humor popsuty co mogę powiedzieć
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