#not completely
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i don’t agree with how kristen conveyed it but like. i don’t feel like that wolfsong camp truly reminded me of tracker’s vibe and how she did religion in the previous seasons
#she’s allowed to change as a person certainly but like. that didn’t feel like her#not completely#dimension 20#fantasy high junior year#fantasy high junior year spoilers#fantasy high#fhjy
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that other anon is wrong- I am the biggest Kinger fan
#tadc#the amazing digital circus#kinger#tadc kinger#I like to gatekeep him#just to a certain extent#not completely
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I can't stop thinking of Kyanako's Order of Attack au... there's something so moving to me about how things getting so much worse could be what finally causes Amane to get better -- seeing Fuuta dying may be the final straw of getting her to rethink her rejection of medicine. Been a while since I've attempted something whump-y, this was fun to work with.
Tw for mentions/contemplation of death. I don't go into detail about the cult but the doctrines are implied through it all.
Fuuta was not a big fan of dying.
When he imagined his own death, he always pictured it as something dramatic and fast. Action heroes going out in a show of explosions and gunfire. Fantasy characters meeting the shining end of a blade. Even when he accepted his place in Milgram, it filled his mind with images of gallows and electric chairs.
Whatever this slow, lengthy fever was, it was pissing him off.
He’d lost all sense of time. He could no longer tell which hour the prison bells were marking -- morning and night blended together. Dreaming and waking blended together. His head injury and broken leg and broken bones blended together. It was all just pain at the end of the day. He had nonstop visitors that kept him awake and asked him too many questions and prodded his injuries and made his head spin. Somehow, he was simultaneously alone every time he rolled over to talk to someone. Painfully, suffocatingly alone.
If Kotoko was going to kill him with those ridiculous emo boots of hers, she should have just done it. He was losing his mind here: devoid of all energy, suffering through broken bones and a cracked head, and boiling in an increasingly fiery fever. Maybe that was the reason he stopped commenting when he watched Amane pocket the medicine Shidou had left him. Maybe that was why he’d stopped following Shidou’s instructions himself. Even after losing an eye and taking a beating herself, Amane always looked at peace. He was tired of dealing with all of this. He wanted a bit of that peace.
Regardless of why, it was working. His fever had quickly gone from the biggest pain in his ass to the very thing that dulled his racing thoughts.
He awoke suddenly, or maybe he’d already been awake. He couldn’t feel anything in his limbs. There was only a breathless heat around him. He raised himself into a sitting position, looking for a drink. Moving his head felt like one of those glitching computer windows that leaves a trail of copies behind it. The room swam around him. His eyes moved absently around him.
Fuuta picked up the glass that someone had left him. His fingers were clumsy, and it immediately went crashing to the ground. He hardly heard the noise as it broke apart on the concrete below.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. He’d just go get a drink himself. Shidou told him not to get up without help. But what did he know? Thinking of the man ordering him around only drove Fuuta to step out of bed even quicker. He cried out, pain shooting through his leg. That was right, it was broken…
Fuuta looked down, finding himself on the ground. It was so hot. Maybe this is what she felt, he thought numbly. Was it this slow for her too? Probably not. She had no regrets to fill the time like he did. The heroes got quick, beautiful deaths, and it was the villains who had to suffer the long ones.
He lifted his right palm from where it had caught his fall. The shattered glass on the floor had cut into it. Shattered glass? What had broken? He stared blankly at the blood dripping down.
He didn’t have the strength to raise himself up. He was burning. Why was he on the ground? Was he bleeding? He could barely breathe. What was he doing here, anyway? He just wanted to curl up and sleep. He was so weak... just to lie down... he wouldn't have the strength to get back up again. Was that such a bad thing...?
A voice caught his attention. His eyes struggled to focus on the figure who’d come running into the cell. He couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying, but he was happy when she pressed her cool little hands against his forehead.
He allowed her to prop him up next to the bed. She held onto his hand, squeezing it tight. Why was she holding it like that? That hand was bleeding. When did that happen?
Her arms wrapped tightly around him. He wanted to shove her away -- it was too hot -- but couldn’t. In his ear, he could make out her words. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, Fuuta. Don’t leave me alone. I’m so sorry...”
As she pulled back, he recognized Amane. Her uninjured eye was filled with tears. Was she upset? He thought he’d been making her happy. He wanted to keep making her happy. He’d never made anyone happy before.
He opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come out. They all scrambled up in his mouth. He felt the cell swirling around him.
Amane raised her voice. She looked desperately upwards. “This can’t be --! This isn’t right!”
Fuuta looked up at the ceiling. There was nothing there.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
She continued talking. Fuuta was too busy studying the ceiling. She was shouting. Or maybe crying. Fuuta didn’t like that she was so upset. Huh, had there been someone there? He surveyed the empty cell. What was he doing on the ground?
He looked down at his hand. The sheet from his bed had been pulled down and wrapped hastily around it. Why? His eyes felt sticky as he blinked. Everything hurt. It was so hot. What was going on? He was so angry. He was so scared. He wanted to cry. Why was he here? Why couldn’t he just hurry up and die already?
The next time she entered, Fuuta recognized Amane instantly. Her one hand pointed to him, the other held onto someone else. The second figure hurried over to him.
Fuuta was not a big fan of dying. Shidou reassured him he wouldn’t.
—
“You’re wearing the eyepatch,” Fuuta observed.
He was playing a dangerous game, drawing attention to it like that. He was too exhausted, and his curiosity won out over his better judgment. If Amane was going to explode with one of her typical speeches, he’d just let her.
She didn’t.
Amane’s hand drifted up to her eye. It had been hastily covered before, but now it was cleaned and wrapped in professional-grade materials. She simply said, “Kajiyama Fuuta. How do you feel?”
“Like shit.”
“But--”
“-- But I’m better, yeah.”
Amane nodded, her shoulders releasing.
“Oi, I haven’t seen you in a while. Not since…” He wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. Shidou had told him what happened, but it was difficult to believe. He couldn’t quite trust his own memory of the night. No matter how much clearer his mind felt since receiving proper treatment, those days of fever still muddled together. He heard that Amane had up and switched her beliefs overnight -- she was now complacent about all of Shidou's treatments -- but Fuuta knew people didn't just change like that. He wanted to hear it for himself.
She lowered her gaze in shame. “I… I thought you hated me.” Her voice was steady. “As you should. I almost killed you. I accept any ill will you may feel.”
“I -- what? You’re wrong. You… it wasn’t…” He grabbed his head, grunting in frustration.
After standing awkwardly in the entryway the whole time, Amane took a few steps inside. She made it to his bedside when he finally collected his thoughts.
“It was your fucked up family or whatever that caused everything. They did this. And I went along and made things worse.” He looked away. His next words felt stupid to say to a little kid. He felt like the most pathetic, weak, loser. But it was too important not to say.
“They almost killed me. You saved me.”
#milgram#fuuta kajiyama#amane momose#i am emotional about them!!!#my other drabble between them hinted that fuuta would convince her away from her dangerous beliefs before things got too bad#but i wanted to see what would happen if things Did get bad ya know#we were talking about what could convince amane to think twice about the medicine ban (if anything)#and i think seeing her closest friend is literally on deaths door finally gets through to her#shes sees him weak and bloody and completely out of it and knows this is Wrong#i dont know how long it takes fuuta to realize that it really was all for him that she changed but he does accept it eventually#it helps both of them grow#he feels worth saving (and therefore worth turning his life around) and she is freer from her cult#not completely#but one step at a time#tried to make fuutas narration simpler and shorter to reflect his thoughts but idk if that worked#i thought they were going to do a lot of stuff with mahirus head injury and memory but they never did- i played around with that a bit here#i thought about writing out amanes monologue to her god about how shes not doing this anymore but 1. its more dramatic to leave that to#the imagination and 2. idk if its silly but some things are so personal for a character and i dont wanna intrude... like yeah its my#story but thats between her and god fr#drabbles#tw cults#tw child abuse
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meant to post this yesterday but then forgot cause late and tired
anyway, I started and finished this in one day which I am happy about
someone hand me a broom to hit that little part telling me that there weren't that many details and lines etc anyway so that made it easy
The horrors persist but so do I
to us people who persist despite the horrors @goldrose-star @devil-doll13 @rottent33th @myers-meadow @the-pinstriped-hood @house-of-slayterr @bluecoolr @visceravalentines @probably-a-plant-thing @frenziedslashers @ace-of-hearts-and-spades @darklylucid @callmecaspurr @soupbabe @cyanide-latte @coffeexafterxmidnight @fluffy-little-demon @mintgalaxia @shonkgobonk @spookyscaryslashy @queer-world-666 @brandnewhuman @doomh3ad
#cylas makes stuff#not completely#sure i like the overall composition but#the right side just has more stuff going on overall#it's literally the 'horros persist'[ing] 😂#circular gallifreyan
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@skye707
One Riddle boy down. Alot to go.
#the riddler#riddlerverse#capullo riddler#rendering#six fanarts#not completely#zero year riddler#drawing#fanart#Spotify
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Self-Destruction by I Prevail is honestly kinda Merlin coded ngl
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Miscellaneous ryuki doodles. I lovehim sm
#aini spoilers#ai the somnium files#kuruto ryuki#ai nirvana initiative#my art#i love him sm#hes just so#me and my friend have basically finished the second game#not completely#we have like one more big thing to do but#man aini is literally amazing tho i really really loved it
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Hmmm, maybe I should add some color ta my hair again.
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Can we also talk about Crowley's religious trauma?
(some spoilers in here...)
I know we're all mad at Aziraphale because he's the one that walked away from our pretty perfect love story. But when you actually get down to it, Crowley's the one that's been running away for the whole story, and has never been the one to stand up to Heaven.
Because when you get down to it, he can't face them.
In season 1, Crowley runs. He gives up almost immediately, and suggests they run off to Alpha Centauri - and he gets close to it! It's Aziraphale who says this isn't right, we have to stay, we have to fight - and eventually pulls Crowley into it.
Crowley never says much to the other angels, and they mostly ignore him. It's Aziraphale who stands up, gets in their face, and tells them no.
Even in the end, in Heaven, it's not Crowley standing up to them - it's Crowley AS Aziraphale. And he still doesn't say much - he's nice to Gabriel, like he thinks his angel would be.
Enter season 2, where the same thing is happening. Aziraphale is faced with a crisis involving Heaven, and Crowley's first instinct is to bolt. Get rid of it, hide it, don't get involved. It's Aziraphale who insists that they stay and fix it.
And in the end...
Crowley wants them to run. He wants to run away where Heaven can't or won't find them, leave them to their own devices, let them do whatever! as long as he and Aziraphale are clear.
But Aziraphale wants to stay. He wants to do something. He knows Heaven won't give up that easily - he wants to stay, and fight.
But Crowley... can't.
He can't face Heaven - not after what they did to him. He doesn't think they can win - he lost last time, after all - and he is so focused on not getting hurt again that he can't even find the will to try.
And he doesn't believe Heaven can change. Not before, not now, not ever.
All he can see is the pain Heaven caused, and the trials he went through because of them. All he can focus on is how Aziraphale could be hurt, like he was, and that nothing would change, like when he tried.
He can't accept that things might be different. He can't accept that Aziraphale knows all that, and is going to try anyway.
So he runs.
And Aziraphale stays.
#crowley#aziraphale#my thoughts#meta#heaven#good omens season 1#crowley's religious trauma#because let's be honest#he has a lot!#just... in a different way#a way that we kind of expect?#and maybe pay less attention to#because it looks like he made it out#but did he really?#heaven is still deciding his actions#even if he's just committed to doing the opposite#he's not free of them#not completely#the opposite of love isn't hate#it's apathy#and let's be honest#crowley still cares a lot#even if that care is disgust#and fear#good omens season 2#good omens#good omens spoilers#good omens season 2 spoilers
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ok i'm finally going to bed NIGHTY NIGHT
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Posting Hiatus
This probably will get as much attention as my work here but it won't hurt to get this out.
After a couple of abysmal months and an inactive taglist (either Tumblr is broken, everyone's inactive, or I get buried or whatnot), I will stop posting long fics here, since I can see now it's not friendly to long work - especially when it's heavily plot-centered. AO3 is SO much friendlier to my work - it's made for stories, after all. Tumblr, I see, is more for drabbles, sex fics, and if there are long fics, they're usually not plot-heavy.
So, I guess I'll keep this blog when I get around to writing the above kinds of fics (they come every so often, so, yeah). It's so disheartening to see people straight up learning from my work and not giving it the time of day? Like so much for 'author appreciation' on this site but it is what it is.
Also, still keeping TSL up for archival purposes? Will only update on AO3 from now on. I hate getting writer's block because of thinking about posting on Tumblr - I need to get it out of my writing system so I can at least be happy about writing my pride and joy. At least now I can be excited again because AO3 readers show their interest more.
Again, will still be posting my shorter works here some time down the line.
Til then.
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Gender is so confusing... why am I supposed to know what I am?? Does anyone truly know what they are?? Like?? Just. How does anyone label themselves confidently??
#maybe i'm just something I haven't found the words for#like#I'm trans#That I know#And masc.. Or androgynous?#I dont know.#Anything but female#Im just rambling at this point#At this point gender is like. No.#But I'm not agender or non binary either cause I'm#wait#DOES IT EVEN MATTER AHJFG#why am I so obsessed with getting a proper label. augh#Why can I not just say I'm a trans boy and be done with ti#Because I DO feel masc#And like#Something akin to male#But then again#Not completely#Bashed my skull in#simon says#Literally just ignore this#Im just being stupid here
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Was just talking to my mom today, about my stories and writing and whatnot (she knows I write fanfic, but she doesn't fully understand what that means). She goes, "So, what do you want to go by when you write?"
Now, I've not given it much thought, and I was planning on going by my real name.
I said as much to my mom, and she goes, "So, for your realistic fiction and short stories and poetry, you'll go by [REDACTED]?"
I agreed, that yes, that was my intent. What my mom then said was, "And your fantasy can go by Cloud!"
Blew my mind completely. I've never considered getting published as Cloud, considering it feels like more of an online identity to me, but if my mother thinks it would be acceptable, as of today, then I shouldn't see anything wrong with it. I am Cloud just as much as I am the person I go by IRL.
Actually, the benefits started piling up. Cloud isn't a gendered name by any means, and it doesn't expose much about me at all. Any criticism I can get for my published content won't damage my ability to get a job, because companies won't know who I am to stop me from getting said job. It's hard to invalidate people if you never have the chance to develop a bias.
Just something interesting to consider.
#cloud speaks#idk man#it's just neat to me#so I can be properly anon when I write#I mean#not completely#some people will still know#like my mom for example#and whoever she tells#but it's like a nice security blanket#pseudonyms are awesome
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my cab driver broke up with me today. this is somewhere on the spectrum of when I cried in the back of an uber outside the san diego airport earlier this year.
#he like texted this out of nowhere#not completely#I called for a ride sat and he said he wasn’t working that weekend but would go back to taking calls wed#and then I guess he decided to retire so good for bob
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You know I'm tired. Also, I've decided even with little evidence that I can see I hereby claim Eliot Spencer is Autistic. He's one of us. We are not giving him back.
I know we already took Parker but come on she was written that way.
I think we've all had a hard year so far so we deserve Eliot too.
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i have a musician in my ig dm’s who is mutuals with ashton so basically i am mutuals with ashton
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