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#idk whether if i did enjoy writing and put a piece out i doubt if it would do well if it doesn't have smut in it
reveriesofawriter · 2 years
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hi bestie :) gimme 1, 12, 18, 26, 35, 36, 38, 53, 60 for let's fall in love for the night jalex, 61 for the one where jalex keep meeting at weddings, 66 for street lightning fic, aaand 70 sorrynotsorry for being ur biggest fan ill follow you until you love me etc xoxo bella
1. Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?
I daydream constantly all the time but if I think up a specific piece of dialogue or a scene that I can literally see in my head, I will write it down immediately, usually in my phone notes bc starting a new doc is intimidating
12. Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them?
I only outline my fics if I think they're going to be long, and for me "long" depends on the format of the fic like if I'm writing something in snapshots I usually won't outline, and honestly most of the fics I've outlined have been 5+1 type fics where I needed to keep track of Things and Events
18. Do you enjoy research?  Which fic of yours required the most research?
I do enjoy research, I love learning super niche things that have no practical effect on my story whatsoever but knowing I'm getting into the head of someone in a particular time period (for example) knowing precisely what types of technology they would have had and how prevalent things were and whether something was only ever popular with rich people or only with teenagers. idk if this counts as research but I've watched multiple movies to write them into fics and that definitely took up as much time as actual research. for one more time for second chances I had a character who was an 8-10 month old baby so I did have to do some light googling to figure out developmental milestones but that was mostly to confirm what I learned a few years ago in my child development classes
26. What’s your least favorite part of the writing process?
finishing things. no the part where I've written all the significant plot points and I need to connect the dots or make the parts flow better. that's partly why I like snapshot fics so much bc I don't have to write so much of the glue, if I leave enough breadcrumbs I can trust the reader to fill in the blanks to a greater extent than if I've written 90% of a fic to be linear and then have random scenes that I just thought were too boring to write
35. What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?
everything taylor-verse? can I say that? We Dream Impossible Dreams probably
36. What fic are you proudest of?
I am still in pure awe that sam and I co-wrote over 20k, I reread it all last week and we really! did that! and I have no clue how!! I can picture it after all these days 
but also street lightning, I feel like I caught a rare spark there
38. What is your most self-indulgent posted story?
I've been going crazy (I'm stuck in here) I know it was part of a challenge technically but I saw the challenge and knew without a doubt what I wanted to write about bc I remembered this event that happened and was like Fic Material and I really like how I had to do zero extra work to give it a pairing bc merrikat are just Like That
53. What is the most-used tag on your ao3?
not including the tag for alcohol warnings, fluff 😌
60. In and forget in the morning, what inspired the idea for the plot?
I listened to the song one too many times and a vague plot popped into my head lmao the most thought I put into it was when I was like oh alex is ace and then went back to make sure I didn't already write something that contradicted that. I seem to remember writing most of it while on vc with you and sam and neither of you had any idea lol
61. In if you leave the light on, then I'll leave the light on, what’s your favorite scene that you wrote?
the first one probably, I wrote the majority of this one on my phone just one section each night and I didn't think it would turn into a real fic until I got to part 3 and was like this is actually going somewhere, tho honorable mention to the fourth scene with the part about alex's middle name that you love so much :)) but the first scene was like a break in my usual writing pattern in so many ways so I like that I could stretch that out to a whole fic
66. What’s a fun fact about romancing what might've been?
you commented that it feels like a music video or short film? if I was directing any of my fics in film form, this would be the one I'm most confident in just because the vibe of it is so perfect that it would be a good balance of being hard to mess up (which would be good for my perfectionist self) and also like a pinprick sized specific mood that I wouldn't want to hand over to anyone else
70. Are you subscribed to any writers on AO3?
no but in my defense I follow my favorite writers in other places so I rarely miss a fic
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huenjin · 3 years
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Lectures (pt2)
Pat two babyyyyyyy! I’ve never written a part two for anything before i hope it’s okay...i put a tiny Beauty and the Beast reference in cause it’s my favourite film idk it seemed cute...
I’m gonna write a part three, I promise :) 
Tags for the people who asked for part 2: @prurientpuddlejumper​ @charlottegrice @feedthemadness-sweetie​
Warnings: none except, again, don’t get into irresponsible relationships lmao.
Not my gif, thank you to the person who made it :)
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You knocked lightly on the large wooden door in front of you. Your last seminar had felt like it lasted a lifetime but finally you were stood, shifting nervously, in the corridor which held the offices of the psychology department. You ran your hands through your hair and debated knocking again before a small but assured voice shouted “Come in”.
You pushed open the door by its fancy gold handle and stepped into Doctor Chilton’s office. “Yeah...seems about right” you laughed to yourself as you looked around at the office that was bigger than your whole apartment. The high ceilings and white walls made the room feel cold and, despite the large wooden desk and matching dark chair, they crowded the man sat in the middle. The walls were lined with old, worn books and you thought that some of them were probably worth more money than you’d ever had in your bank account. Everything about your professor screamed over-compensation and superiority, but as your mind flashed back to the defeated look he gave you in the lecture hall when you stepped away from him, you knew there was a lot to uncover about Doctor Frederick Chilton. You wondered if he even knew himself under this charade.
“Have you read all of those?” You asked, awkwardly gesturing towards the books and, subsequently, breaking the silence as you suddenly became aware he had been watching you gawk at his belongings like a child. 
“The books?”, he chuckled to himself, “Definitely not. Some of them are in Latin.” 
You stared at the man in front of you for a few seconds, slightly dumbfounded at the personality change he had seemingly undertaken while you were in your seminar.
“...Did you just make a joke?” 
“I am not incapable of human emotion” He scoffed, making you worry you had offended him before you had even been in his presence for a minute.
“No I - I didn’t mea-” You stammered before he cut you off,
“It’s okay, I know. Is there something I can help you with, Y/N?” 
You felt the mood in the room shift when he spoke your name, his voice dropping as he pronounced every syllable. You stepped forward, expecting him to make a move, or at least stand up. He didn’t. He just sat there, behind the desk that was almost as big as his tiny-ass self, watching you with a self-assured smirk. You would have been offended at his nonchalance if you weren’t so goddamn horny-sitting through a two hour seminar with the lingering feeling of your professor’s lips on yours was satisfying some fantasy you didn’t even realise you had. Not until you had encountered Doctor Chilton anyway. Fine! If he wanted to play a game then he would meet his match with you.
“Yes actually. I wanted to talk about the finals.” 
You walked over to the chair on the opposite side of his desk, dropped your bag, sat down and relished the confused look on the poor doctor’s adorable face.
“I wanted to ask if there were any specific topics I should be focusing on. I realise you can’t tell me about the exam itself but you mark my work-is there anything I should work on, sir?” You continued, watching his smirk drop as you reached the last word. Doctor Chilton shifted uncomfortably in his seat and you giggled to yourself as you remembered all the times you had done the same action while half-listening, half-daydreaming during his lectures. He didn’t say anything but just looked at you, sceptical, almost unsure as to whether you were actually here for innocent reasons. Both of you were acutely aware of the fact that he was still actually your professor, and would be for a while yet. The thought of it sent a shiver down your spine. You stood up and walked around to his side of the desk-mimicking what he had done just a few hours prior-and perched on the edge, opening your legs slightly to leave him in no doubt as to your intentions. He shifted his chair forward so he was positioned between your legs before looking up and locking his eyes with yours. As you took in each other’s presence for a few seconds, you caught the smallest hint of something flash behind the green of his eyes, causing you to surge forward and capture his lips with yours for the second time that day. You ran your hand across his shoulder and tangled your fingers in the soft hair at the nape of his neck, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as you slid off the desk and straddled his lap. Despite being older than you, (meaning you had wrongly assumed more experienced), he wasn’t the best kisser but fuck did he make up for it in enthusiasm. His tongue explored your mouth with a desperation you had never experienced with anyone else before, and the shameless moans he was coaxing out of you as his hands grabbed at every part of you he could was proof enough to both of you that you were enjoying it. Your hands made their way to his stubble and you felt your underwear dampen even more at the small groans and whimpers he made when you began to kiss down his neck and over his adam’s apple. 
You had just begun to reach down and unbuckle his belt when the sound of a heavy knock on the office door made Doctor Chilton practically jump out of his skin. You grabbed onto the sides of the chair before you fell off his lap. 
“Doctor Chilton?” A voice asked from behind the door. You and said doctor stared at each other for a few seconds, partially terrified the owner of the voice would discover the two of you in this position and partially trying to hold in laughter at the ironic and irritating timing (although the latter was entirely on your part-you had locked the door when you walked in-you knew you were safe). It seemed the universe didn’t want you to fuck your professor today and you were incredibly annoyed about that.
“It’s Doctor Bloom”, he whispered, “she won’t go away.”
You sighed and lifted yourself off the doctor’s lap, grabbing your bag and walking towards the door. You waited until he had finished buckling his belt before flicking the lock and opening the door to a rather grumpy-looking Doctor Bloom. You turned around as you stepped out of the office, glancing at Doctor Bloom to make sure she was listening:
“Thank you for the advice, Doctor Chilton. See you next week.” 
As you walked back to your apartment you couldn’t shake the look he gave you before you kissed him. There was something in it. Or maybe, more significantly, there was nothing in it. Maybe, you thought, for the first time someone had seen behind his arrogance, his ego, his fancy suits and the fake gold door handles. Doctor Chilton was a broken man, and dear god you wanted nothing more than to pick up the pieces and put him back together again.
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mercuryislove · 3 years
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Don’t hate me but… I kinda want you to answer all of the deep dive WIP asks 🥺 if that’s unreasonable tho, just 2, 9, and 10 please!
I am SORRY for the delay!!! i answered every question for BOTH projects so you're in for like.... several thousand words of shit that makes absolutely no sense, but i hope you you enjoy it! :)
1. Who are two characters that don't like each other? What do they reveal about each other to the readers? Will they ever learn to put aside their differences?
White Crane: okay this is hard because like. so many people do not like each other. (I know I made a post once about how terrible it would be to be one of twenty-eight people that have the power of dead gods but are trapped in stupid human bodies and you're all a thousand years old and hate each other so so so so so much because you all SUCK.) But for the sake of simplicity, I will talk about Ciaran and Sihla who never got along but only played nice to keep Anwei happy. They absolutely do NOT put aside their differences lmao once everything kind of, um, blows up between the three of them, all they want to do is KILL each other. She makes it her life's goal to make him suffer, and he basically loses his sanity in the process of trying to find a way to kill her for good. The beef is unbelievable. ANYWAY, what they reveal about each other is that Ciaran is not nearly as innocent in anything as he likes to pretend and Sihla is not as guilty as everyone says she is. I mean, she is still a terrible person in many ways, but that does not excuse the things he did to her all those years ago. She hates him for many, many good reasons.
Old Blood: Andhira HATES the entire Ekion family, but specifically the oldest son (who does not have an official name yet.... oops). He doesn't much care for her either but is usually too busy trying to better his social standing to worry too much about her. Except when they're in the same room together (which happens semi-regularly because her brother is kind of in love with him lmao). They hate each other for the exact same reason and it's that they're both SO arrogant. They look down on everyone around them (which in Andhira's case is like. fair. She's the firstborn of the two most powerful people on the planet, and the only person that comes close to that level of power is her twin brother who was born a mere fourteen minutes after her) but think the other is completely unjustified in their actions. Really all it reveals to a reader is that they both kind of suck and need to get over themselves because all that behavior does is make people resent you. They only put aside their differences because she does kind of need his help once or twice, but they would gladly spit in each other's face and/or push each other down a flight of stairs in the name of pettiness.
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2. What do you hope your readers will take away from your wip? Is there an intentional theme to the story?
These can be answered together! I started writing these stories because I wanted to have fun but they've both kind of morphed into a long-winded way of saying that like. it's okay to be messed up and hate yourself and have major internal struggles because there are people who still love you. I KNOW it doesn't sound like that from uhhhhhh literally everything I've ever said about this stuff but bear with me. The BIG theme is that love is EVERYTHING. All kinds of love. It's the reason to keep on going. You are never alone, even strangers can love you in their own way, etc etc etc etc. Also gay love fucking prevails always and forever.
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3. What do you love most about your protagonist?
Yixing is funny and weird and definitely a horse girl and he kind of sucks sometimes because he's stubborn as hell and has terrible people skills and maybe also a drinking problem, but he is kind and empathetic and despite the absolute hell he's lived through, he still sees the good in people and knows that it's easy to make mistakes and that most people deserve second chances in life. Also I like him because he is without a doubt the ideal man and I made him that way on purpose. And god I wish we could drink together. I'm talking stumbling drunk, crying on the bathroom floor, please-hold-my-hair-i'm-about-to-throw-up kind of drinking. We would have a great time being stupid together I think.
Vera is resilient and mean and stubborn and cold and off-putting and hard to get to know, and she sucks for those reasons but it's also why I love her so much. She has also lived through hell and it didn't make her try to see the good in people like Yixing does. It just made her bitter and resentful. She warms up over time, but she fights tooth and nail against it. I also love her so much because she is the archetype of like. the washed up former prodigy that has to return sort of against her will to her old life, and she realizes that she misses it in some ways but also remembers exactly why she left. I would Not want to drink with her (because she doesn't drink anymore), but I would love to take one of her art classes.
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4. Is there anything in the story that is implied but not directly stated? Will this become more relevant later on? How perceptive would a reader have to be to pick up on this?
White Crane: This is hard because I'm so invested in my own shit that it feels obvious to me, but I try to lay out a little candy trail that tells the reader that Ciaran and Anwei are Not What They Seem right from the start. It’s hard to explain without specific examples but it’s in the way they talk, they way they interact with other people, the way certain things they say don’t line up, etc etc etc. And there is a Big Hint of what will happen to Ciaran in the second and third installment, but idk if that counts. Also there are definitely implications that Yixing is trans but that's neither here nor there (honestly I’ve gone back and forth on whether or not he should be explicitly trans or if it should be left to reader interpretation because well... I don’t know if I'm capable of writing the nuance of transness because I'm not trans despite my complex and confusing relationship with gender but I'm also not a thirty-something year old Asian man NOR am I a god NOR am I a former vampire hunter NOR am I like. any of the things I write about other than a mean lesbian so. who knows?)
Old Blood: TRUE FANS already know this one, but regular degular readers that haven't participated in funny question friday or read my random late night posting would not immediately know that Josef and the Sovereign were once involved. Basically the only characters in the story that know are Josef, Luka, the Sovereign himself, and Tahire. But there are definitely some hints peppered throughout conversations and perhaps some photos and trinkets that Josef has kept after all this time... It has like no weight on the events of the story but I just think it's fun. Once again I am way too invested to know if it's easy to pick up on or not but I think it takes some theorizing about maybe? Other than that there aren’t any significant secrets.
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5. Which character has the most intricate backstory? Is this backstory common knowledge from the start, or is it revealed later on? How does the backstory affect the narrative?
White Crane: this is unfair because some of the characters are almost a thousand years old and some of them are like. 35. I DO have a full timeline written out of the thousand years of history that Ciaran and Anwei have lived through, if that counts as an answer. Like it doesn't have every single day and year, but it has all the big events for sure. Barring that, Yixing definitely has a pretty complex backstory. The man gets around lol and I try (and maybe fail?) to make him seem not too complex initially but then things get revealed and you learn more about him and are like “oh my god no wonder this man has Problems.” Also if he was like. “normal” and perhaps “well-adjusted” the story would not exist at all because he is the way he is and makes some of the stupid decisions he does because of his weird little life.
Old Blood: ONCE AGAIN, this is unfair because the Sovereign is like older than god. And Vera is 37. But like. I haven't fleshed him or any of the old ass vampires out nearly as much as Vera so there's your answer I guess? And I guess the important things are known from the start (that she was a prodigy, that she retired because terrible shit happened and she couldn't handle it, that she suffers from significant ptsd because of it, etc), but there is a lot of detail that doesn't come out until much later when she has to confront her Feelings (ewww feelings). Uh... the backstory affects the narrative because it wouldn't exist at all if Vera wasn't plagued by her fucked up blood nightmares lol
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6. Which two characters have the most complicated relationship? How does their relationship develop over time?
White Crane: Ciaran and Anwei totally. They love each other because they're brother and sister and were all the other had for a VERY long time (and even when they were still uh mortal, they relied on each other constantly), but also they hate each other because they're brother and sister. You know how it is with siblings. I love my brother and sister to pieces but I can't imagine being immortal and having to put up with the both of them for all eternity (sorry guys if you are reading this somehow.... I love you but we are all so annoying god bless). They handled their newfound godhood very, very, very differently and it kind of colors their relationship for the rest of time. There were times where they were extremely codependent and other times where they didn't speak to each other for DECADES. At the start of our story, they're on much better terms and have buried all their hatchets, but it doesn't take much for that to change....
Old Blood: Probably Vera and Andhira? They're only brought together because of their shared fucked up blood nightmares, and neither of them like that thought. They both resent the other for everything they are, and Vera is pretty much completely hostile to Andhira about it for a long time (and Andhira is only just barely cordial lol), but obviously a significant part of the plot revolves around them like. falling in love so they DO get over it after a while :)
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7. What is the most heart-wrenching scene in your wip? Why?
White Crane: When Yixing fucking DIES. I feel like this one should be self-explanatory. But I mean if you would like further explanation, it's unpleasant and slow and agonizing and nobody can do anything to stop it (haha....... unless?) so Ciaran gets to hold him for a long time and feel really bad about it lol
Old Blood: idk if there are any really heart-wrenching scenes but there are definitely some miserable and uncomfortable scenes like where Vera relives in vivid detail the days that she witnessed the gruesome deaths of her young apprentice and her last lover. They're upsetting because those are the two days that basically ruined her life (and one was the final straw that sent her spiraling completely out of control) and it's painful to watch her have to live with the guilt of what happened even if it wasn't her fault.
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8. What is a song that you associate with your wip? Explain.
White Crane: not to be basic but absolutely without a doubt in my stupid mind “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” by Tears for Fears lol it's because uh. well. Everybody wants to rule the world right? Basically way back in 2019 when I was crafting the ideas for the dnd campaign that became this thing instead, I was definitely having a metal gear moment (honestly I’m about to have a metal gear moment NOW lol) and was listening to a lot of like. mgs adjacent music and latched onto this song (and also promises, promises by naked eyes lmao) as some like thematic element. Like my brain making amvs. You know how it is. ANYWAY the point is. The concept was originally way different and was supposed to be more about the immediate aftermath of the so-called end of the world (yes Yixing was still there and yes he was still just some guy), and it focused a lot more on power struggles between all of these insane people that were granted godhood in the wake of the dying world. Which........ is something I'd like to write about at some point because it's intriguing in its own way but at the time I was unequipped to write about that when I really just wanted to write about people who are, for all intents and purposes, quite average getting caught up in the batshit drama of higher powers. (fun fact: Ciaran was supposed to be a tyrant king that ran a death cult and Anwei and Yixing were working together to figure out a way to kill him. Which is. Kind of what my dnd campaign is like now lol BASICALLY he's like if Big Boss was unkillable and could also rip souls out of people's bodies and eat them. I absolutely do not remember what this question originally was. Something about a song?)
Old Blood: THIS is the reason it took me so long to answer this whole thing. I thought long and hard and looked through all my playlists and listened to random songs that came to mind but it turns out the song I was looking for was right in front of me the whole time. DUH. It's “Golden Light” by Twin Shadow :) In my humble homo interpretation, I think it's a song about being afraid to fall in love and. Well. That's the whole point. Also #spoilers but the first time Vera sees Andhira and is like “oops I think I have feelings” is when they've just arrived at Andhira's home and the sun is rising and she looks over at her as they stand at the top of a hill and she has her eyes closed to the sun and she's bathed in golden light and OOUGGGGHGHHH poetic cinema. (honorable mention goes to “Groove is in the Heart” by Deee-lite because it’s quintessential early 90s music that Vera would be super into)
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9. What does your protagonist want most? What would they do to achieve this? What is something they wouldn't do to achieve this?
White Crane: Yixing wants to be happy for once. Like actually really happy instead of just. getting by. There's a scene where they're making wishes for the next seasons during the summer solstice and someone asks what he wants and he's like “uh I guess I want to still be alive at the end of the year?” and the other person is like “isn't that what everyone wants? Raise the fucking bar please. What do you REALLY want?” and he's stands there for a really long time and thinks about it before finally saying “I think I just want to be happy for once” and everyone else is like. wow. Way to kill the fucking mood dude. Anyway. He has had fleeting moments of happiness in his life but wants nothing more than to feel that way forever. It's kind of hard to say what he wouldn't do for that because like. there's not really much you CAN do in the first place, so I feel like there's even less you couldn't do. I guess he wouldn't like sell his soul to the devil or something lmao (though by being involved with Ciaran he's pretty much halfway there)
Old Blood: to be left alone. Vera just wants a normal life. She really truly does want to pretend that none of the horrible shit happened to her and that she was never a world-famous hunter. And she wants to teach art classes and live a quiet life!!! I mean, she is already mostly doing that exact thing when we first meet her, but obviously she has some hindrances (aka fucked up blood nightmares). She is begrudgingly helping Andhira because she assumes that will fix her problem and that she'll be able to get to that quiet living as soon as all is said and done. The only thing she really wouldn't do to get what she wants is like... live somewhere far away from Josef and Luka lol She likes having them close by more than she wants to be left alone.
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10. Within your story's world, were there any events that impacted every character (or most characters)? How would they be different if this event never happened? (Alternatively, erase an important even from on character's backstory and imagine where they'd be now.)
White Crane: well. If the stupid old gods didn't all kill themselves and almost end the world then I guess none of this story would exist lol But the actual answer is like. If Yixing had never run out on his girlfriend of ten years then he wouldn't have moved across the continent to Jengmi and wouldn't have made a name for himself way out there and wouldn't have been scouted and recruited and wouldn't have met Ciaran or Anwei and wouldn't have gotten in the middle of the batshit grudge between a bunch of ancient petty gay people and wouldn't have DIED and wouldn't have made one of the ancient petty gay people in particular lose his grip on his humanity via a lust for power in a desperate attempt to guarantee his safety and wouldn't have been the reason that tens of thousands of people die in his name and wouldn't have accidentally set off a chain of events that resulted in him having to hunt down and kill the Actual God that started it all in a fit of jealous rage. So like. maybe he should have just gone through with the wedding. All things considered, his life would have been way less stressful.
Old Blood: uhhh, that's tough because the stuff that happens only really has any effect on the mortal characters (I mean yeah people still try to kill the Sovereign but they're too dumb to know the ACTUAL way to kill him.... haha unless??), so it would be more like a what if Vera didn't witness the violent deaths of both her apprentice and her lover and have a full blown nervous breakdown and abandon her career? Well...... I think most things in the plot would transpire more or less the same, except she would be WAY less pissed off about it. In fact, she would probably be hyped as hell to get the chance to make the acquaintance of the Sovereign's family like Josef had before her. The thought of Vera being upbeat and not a sleep-deprived asshole that hates being dragged back to her old life..... ew. Not that I enjoy her suffering but you know what I mean. It just wouldn't be the same.
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11. What is something from your wip that you just really want to ramble about?
Are you sure you're ready for this. This is going to be so so so so long I'm sorry in advance. It's Saturday night and I'm alone and kind of sad so I'm just going to let loose.
As I hone down plot elements for next two installments in my little trilogy, I have kind of become obsessed with the passage of time and how different it must feel to someone that, well, lives forever. One of the ways I'd written (that has since been kind of changed) for Yixing to start to figure out what Ciaran really is was that he would casually be looking through his bookshelf and find an old photograph of Ciaran, Anwei, and their mom standing backstage together after one of his performances. And when he eventually asks Ciaran about it, he gets upset because how dare you touch the one thing I have left to remember my mother? To remember what my life used to be like? There are so many names and faces and places and foods and sensations that I've forgotten in the 940 years I've lived like this and I would give anything I have to see any of it just one more time because I didn't know that the last time I would ever speak to my mom we would have an argument on the phone about how I need to go to the temple and pray for good fortune on my birthday, or that the last time I would ever see my best friend would be at 6am when we both came into the studio to practice and he asked me to go out to breakfast and I said no because I thought a nap would be more important. And there are so many people that I've watched die whose names I never learned and whose faces I forgot the moment I turned away, and there are so many others that I loved so dearly that I had to leave behind because they grew old and I didn't. And I have lived lifetimes in solitude to keep myself a secret from other people and I have died more than any person should ever have to die and I have witnessed atrocities no one should ever witness and I hate everything about this life so much but I love everything about this life so much and I wouldn’t trade it for anything but I think I would give it all away in an instant if only to remember the scent of my mother's favorite perfume and I think I would give it all away in an instant if it meant I didn't have to watch you turn to dust in my arms.
ANYWAY. I think a lot about the agony of loving things that aren't permanent and how it really DOES drive you mad because lately I have been unbelievably nostalgic for certain things that weren't even that long ago but..... I didn't appreciate them at the time and I feel so guilty about it. (And like. I too would give up my entire life to be able to remember the scent of my grandmother's favorite perfume.) And all my pent-up sadness is for things that only happened in my childhood. I have pictures and videos and other people to share those memories with, but what does it feel like to be one of very few people that watched the entire world fall apart and rebuild itself and have nothing to hold onto from that time? What does it feel like to foster dozens of generations of children and outlive every single one of them? What does it feel like to have only fragments of memories of entire lifetimes? How lonely is it? I mean, Ciaran and Anwei have each other and that makes a difference but it still has to be the most isolating feeling. And then there's the pain that comes with memories that have faded or otherwise become hazy. I doubt either of them remember their father's face. They hadn't seen him in years even before it all happened. If it wasn't for that single photo he has, they wouldn't remember their mother's face either. Do they still remember her name? Or her birthday? Do they remember anyone else? Cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, coworkers? If they do, do they even want to talk about it? One thing I worry about in my own life (and this is how I know I have Problems) is that I'm so afraid that talking about memories will alter them somehow. There are so many things that I don't even like to share because once the words are spoken the little vhs tape that has all my memories has been recorded over, even if it's just by a single frame. Something about it has been changed forever each time I talk about it. Do they feel the same way and keep things to themselves instead of sharing the sadness? I think maybe they used to talk about the “old days” or whatever much more often back in the past, but as the years went by.... they just learned to keep it to themselves.
I think maybe I have a lot of anxiety about the passage of time and of being forgotten!
Anyway again. The passage of time drives me insane. And I think it would make me even more insane if I had been chosen to carry the mantle of a dead god and would live forever. My dog died a year ago and I still cry like every single day thinking about her. If I was doomed to live forever I don't know how the sadness wouldn't swallow me whole! No wonder all the people in this book are fucking CRAZY!!
And don't even get me started on the Sovereign lol he's like “oh boo-hoo you've lived for not even a thousand years? Bitch they hadn't invented fucking GLASS yet when I was born. The horse wasn't domesticated yet. Cry harder!!”
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cescalr · 3 years
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9 and 23 for the ask game please 😊
9: Are there any fics you'd love to see but don't want to write yourself? What are they?
Ooh, um... I'm not sure! Something substantial for Cursed 2005, maybe, like a crossover with buffy or teen wolf or something, with jimbo as the pairing from cursed and idk just something interesting (please no b*angel or st*rek or st*dia), or a time travel fic for Supernatural that involves Dean as the POV but absolutely zero, nada, nothing of (even hints) De*tiel or winc*st, that's 100% a fix-it fic (bc my mans deserved a lot better than that ending smh. And so did Jo, and Anna, and Lisa and Ben and Charlie and Benny and- ).
23: What's one piece of advice you would give to anyone who wants to start writing or posting their writing online?
Hmm... Just go for it? Like, write whatever comes to mind and post it. And keep doing that. Over and over again, because it's all the same thing - practise. If you can't think of an idea, there's no reason not to go trawling for prompts. I've got this list of 200 prompts, can't remember where I found it, but it's really useful if I'm stuck. But yeah. Find some time, any amount of time, whether its 5 minutes or five hours, and write what you can, as much as you can, whether it's ten words or 10,000, or more or less, it doesn't matter. Just get words on screen (or on paper, if you prefer.) And then... post it. If the main issue is getting the courage to post it, don't read back over it. That's when the nervousness rears it's ugly head. Just post it. Straight up. Type right into the Ao3 doc and hit post if you have to, just... find a way to minimise the amount of time you give yourself to get all worked up about whether it's 'good enough' or not. It won't be perfect the first time you write something - nothing ever is. Everything requires practise. And each time you post something, you get better at it. It gets easier. If proofreading is the bane of your existence, just post it and come back later to fix any issues. If titling it is a problem pick a random word or a song lyric or hell, a sentence from the fic, anything at all. 'Working Title | Stiles POV All Human AU Stira Fic', even. Just. Anything. You can always change it later. Summaries an issue? Grab the first paragraph. Grab the first sentence. Put 'Stiles POV all human au, stira focus.' as the summary. Who cares? You. Can. Always. Change. It. Later.
That's the great thing about fic. Changing everything later is possible. Nothing here is permanent. If you aren't happy with something, that doesn't matter. So long as it's out there, you can get feedback (because often, we don't know why we aren't happy with something - outside help is always invaluable). Being scared of criticism is half the problem, for a lot of people... but - not to sugar coat - it's necessary. And, just to note, in my 10 years of fanfic writing, I have never, ever, gotten a single malicious comment. Not. Once. It's much rarer than people think it is. And even if you do, you can always delete it. Put comments on moderation, turn them off, if it's the main issue. Gather your confidence at your own pace - but don't forget feedback is necessary for improvement. Eventually you will need to accept it's going to happen - it's not an attack on you. It's an attempt at help. We're taught in school to consume media critically, and those who internalise that will comment constructively. English class can leave an impression - the worst thing is to take any of it personally. Having a negative mindset (they hate it) versus a positive mindset (they want me to improve at this thing I enjoy doing, they're trying to help, they're being supportive) can make all the difference.
Eventually, you'll need to turn those comments back on. But you don't need to take anyone's shit, hence why moderation is a thing. There is a difference between constructive criticism and hate - but it's rare you'll get the latter. Tone is hard to convey in text form; benefit of the doubt is the best way forward.
Make sure you've got friends/mutuals you can ramble with about your fics. it's genuinely the most helpful thing. Give them snippets, do the whole cheerleader routine for each other. It's great. Brainstorm with each other. Not necessarily doing collaborative fic (though you might find that's what works best for you!) but just, geeking out with each other. It makes a huge boost for your ego, and that's useful for your confidence when it comes to posting things. But also, if you trust them, it makes taking their advice easier.
Sometimes, it might feel like two steps forward and one step back. That's great! It's still a step forward. Go at your own pace. The worst thing you can do is rush yourself and burn out. If it takes you a year to update, it takes you a year. I assure you, the readers will still be there, and they'll be happy to see the update. Nobody's going to hate you for taking your time. Prioritise your health. I promise it makes your work better if you're in a good place, and you don't have too much on your plate.
Though, having said that, if you find you work best with about twenty wips all at once updated every week, then go for it! Like I said; your own pace. If a schedule helps you, have one. If it doesn't, don't. I don't have a schedule. I have about 40 wips posted, and a few that aren't yet. It can take me a year to update, or I'll do four in a week. People are pleased either way - what matters is that you wrote something, and it exists, and other people can read it. Isn't that awesome? You've made something. You've made a mark. Someone's happy because of you, because you wrote something they like. Who cares if there's twenty typos and you use the wrong you're* (*or equivalent in your language, ofc) - you can fix that later. And it didn't stop that person's enjoyment of the first fic you ever posted, which might not be as good as your future fics, but it's still special. It's still yours.
Prioritise the thing you want to prioritise. Plot, relationships (of any nature), whatever. Prioritise that. The rest will fall into place. Personally, I prioritise characterisation. interpersonal dynamics follow, part and parcel of character exploration, then plot, as an extension. Do what suits you. And people don't tend to mind very much about any of these. If characterisation matters to you not one whit, just put OOC in the tags and be done with it. Plot doesn't matter? Perfectly fine! You don't want to write ships? Nobody's forcing you. Do what you want. It's just fanfiction. That's kind of the point. There's no need to feel pressure to write a certain thing. I'm in a lot of fandoms with a lot of very large ships. I'd get a lot more readers if I wrote st*rek, or d*stiel, or whatever, but I don't, because I wouldn't enjoy it. Write what you want to see. What you want to read. That's the best advice I can give. If you cry at your own fic, perfect. If you laugh at your own fic, brilliant. If your own fic leaves you all giddy like, grinning wide, amazing. It's gonna give someone else that reaction, too.
Hits, kudos, comments - they're not everything. Ao3, for harry potter, has 5000 pages of fic, with some of the tags I don't like excluded. It's not a case of people not liking your fic - it's a case of people not finding it. Don't worry. Recognition will come with time. Also, the ratio for fics is kind of awful, anyway. Comments and kudos vs hits is always poor; 2%, 5%, 7%. Don't worry too much about it. If people read it, it's likely they liked it. A lot of people are just lazy, and don't press the kudos button. A lot of people are incredibly nervous, or don't know what to say, so they don't comment. Another thing; some of your fics are going to be more popular than others. This is normal. Fandom size, fandom activity, content of fic, tags - prevalence of fic type, etc etc. One of my fics has around 15k notes. the rest are all below 6k. the runner up is a whole 10k below that fic. This is to be expected, and it's nothing to tear your hair out about. Write, first and foremost, for yourself. The rest, as always, comes later.
Really, tldr; you can always fix it later. the rest comes later. recognition comes later. the best thing to do - the first thing to do, the only thing to do - is just start. Post something. Anything. And go from there however you wish.
In 2016 i had zero subscribers on Ao3. I've got 72 now. These things just take time. In 2016 i'd written 30k words. I've written 1.2 million now. These things just take time. Through fandom, mostly fanfiction, I've gained people I'd consider friends. I think it's a really cool endeavour, and I think - for your confidence, peace of mind, and social sphere - it's also a really positive one.
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thesunnyshow · 3 years
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Name: kelsie Writing Blog URL(s): @lovingyong​
Age: 22
Nationality: american
Languages: english, some sign language and spanish
Star Sign: libra
MBTI: INFJ
Favorite color: pink
Favorite food: taco bell (lol)
Favorite movie: pride and prejudice, kill bill, gone with the wind, or the handmaiden
Favorite ice cream flavor: green tea
Favorite animal: otter
Coffee or tea? What are you ordering? tea or hot chocolate. never coffee because i’m allergic
Dream job (whether you have a job or not): human rights attorney or writer
Go-to karaoke song: never gonna give you up - rick astley
If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? teleportation
If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? mmm hard to say bc i enjoy my rights as a woman so i guess probably the 90s
If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you? Only starting at the summer before high school
Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? horse sized chicken but i could not explain why. It’s just my gut instinct
If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? I was the floater/nobody for sureeeee
Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? yes aliens allll the way lets go
Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know? I only type with two fingers on each hand but can still type 60 wpm
What fandom(s) do you write for? nct but i want to also start writing for haikyuu soon
When did you post your first piece? july of 2018
Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? I like a good combo. Life is never completely fluffy or totally angsty. It’s good to have a balance to make it all seem more realistic and immersive
Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc? x reader right now but when i write for haikyuu, it’ll be ships
Why did you decide to write for Tumblr? I think it was just… there and available. Ao3 is fun but there’s not a lot of chances or opportunities for interaction so i decided to go back to the hellsite
What inspires you to write? Oh goodness, anything and everything. Oftentimes it’s music. I hear a song and i’m immediately like i need a story for this asap
What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? Mafia and crime. It’s such a guilty pleasure of mine
What do you hope your readers take away from your work? I just want it to be a temporary escape and provide at least some form of enjoyment
What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? Read more or watch anime just because both of those are enjoyable things for me but can also give me the inspiration to create again
What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? you may regret this is literally my baby. It’s not my favorite, but i think taeyong’s spin off story, a way out, is because it's everything i wanted for ymrt, i just didn’t have the same skills at the time. Another favorite of mine is hanakotoba because it’s literally my heart and soul in a story and i’ll always have that deep personal connection to it. My most successful is white knuckle tight which is truly still fascinating for me because it was an idea i got on a random tuesday during christmas break and i just ran with it. I think it’s an alright story but it’s far from my favorite. I lack the emotional attachment that i have to other pieces.
Who is your favorite person to write about? taeyong. Writing him is almost like second nature to me. His character is always the easiest for me to construct and i think people will find he’s the most consistent character throughout stories. There’s not as much variation.
Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? Yes and no. i think writing kpop fanfiction is much more similar to original prose because you don’t have a world to build around. You only have a person. In fact, you don’t even have that. You only have an idea of a person to construct into a character. I think the only difference is that you can get away with a lot more unreasonable plot lines.
What do you think makes a good story? Good characters and enough emotion to create an attachment to the plot. I want to care about what’s happening and the best way to do that is by leading me to some sort of connection to the characters
What is your writing process like? Very chaotic and sporadic. I’ll come up with ideas at 3 am, make a random note about it, and then do my best to bring it to life when i’m actually awake. I don’t plan. I just have snippets of scenes i would like to include. So much of it is just writing whatever comes to mind while im writing it
Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? I’m doing so with one right now, though 8-% of it is getting scrapped and changed. There’s nothing wrong with that though. Having good bones is what matters and i think this story has exactly that
What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? I love enemies to loves if it’s done right. Exes to lovers is another classic. Mafia is a given. Hanahaki and soulmates always does something to my heart. I can’t stand hybrid and a/b/o fics idk why i just have never been able to get into them. Yandere like tropes are also really hard to do right so i usually avoid those as well
How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? It means a lot. I’m sure any writer can tell you that but it’s truly the reason i still write fanfic and haven’t just given up and written only original prose.
What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)? Timing. It’s always about which member is really getting to people at the moment and which trope is gaining traction. 85% of writing on tumblr is kind of just dumb luck
Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? Yes. i think it just comes from lack of understanding
Do you think art can be a medium for change? Without a doubt. Art pieces as well as writings have made significant impacts in my life in a variety of ways. It’s a medium of awareness and recognition
Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? Not really because i kind of just do whatever the fuck i want (sorry for my language lol) but i usually come up with totally self indulgent ideas and then just do it. 
Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times? No… not yet. I expected someone to with shattered memories but it seemed to do and say what i wanted to
Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? My roommates. My friends know i write they just don’t know what
What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? I’m doing my best and i wish i could put stories out more often 
Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? Just go for it. You have to try if you want to see any sort of results. Plus these people don’t know you so what’s the risk
Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? nah
Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? Kai, jewel, and abbey for sure. They were some of my closest mutuals when my blog really started to take off
Pick a quote to end your interview with: 
You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who’ll decide where to go… - dr. seuss
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Some Improbable Season 5 Headcanons
Fair warning: These things aren’t going to happen. But while I’m obsessing, I sometimes imagine possible scenarios that would be interesting to watch play out. Perhaps a more industrious person would write these into fanfiction however, I am not that person. And so you get a half-assed  Tumblr post about my imaginings. Please enjoy:
1. What happened to the sword? I don’t remember, I just know that it broke and now Adora is unable to become She-Ra (Until she inevitably learns how to do so without the sword as Madame Razz was clearly insinuating was possible to Mara) But I like to imagine that she lef the pieces of the broken sword where they lay. I also like to imagine  a scenario in which Hoard Prime has his clone minions doing recon on the new planet and they find the pieces of the sword. Later, they bring them back to the ship. 
Skip to a scene where Catra and Glimmer are present, perhaps being questioned about someone his troops have heard about called She-Ra, a defender of this planet. He wonders aloud if this She-Ra will be someone he will have to contend with, only to have one of his troops present the broken pieces of the sword. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about anything like that, Sir. I have it on good authority that there is no more She-Ra” (Or something like that Idk how they talk) He smiles, meanwhile Catra and Glimmer poorly try to conceal their reactions. They have both been operating under the assumption (hope) that since the planet survived, that Adora did too. Not knowing that Adora shattered the sword herself, tey are now faced with the horrifying realization that perhaps Adora didn’t make it out of this and that for both of them, their last interaction was horrible. 
I like the miguided assumption that Adora has died, mostly because I want to torture the two of them a little for being butts, but also because often people don’t appreciate what they have until they lose it. Even having “lost” Adora like Catra did, she still saw her regularly. They still interacted, even if those interactions were fighting or exchanging snarky banter. Even if someone hates you (Which Adora clearly doesn’t, Catra, you’re just being self destructive)  that hatred is still a form of ackowledgement- It’s not the same as losing someone entirely. I want to see the two of them (But mostly Catra because she’s my favorite little disaster) forced to face with the reality of Adora’s “death” Especially since in Catra’s case it’s sort of like getting what you asked for and realizing that it wasn’t what you wanted at all. 
I want Glimmer specifically to witness Catra’s reaction to this news as a way of gaining a deeper understanding of the relationship between the two of them. I feel like Glimmer has never viewed Catra as very nuanced, instead just grouping her into a box, labeling it “villain” and calling it a day. Realistically she’s never had any reason to consider any of the layers of Catra’s character but I kind of find it odd considering that Adora used to be best friends with Catra. Has Glimmer really never wondered why? Never thought that somewhere under all the snark and barbs there must be a reason why Adora loved her  was her friend in the first place? 
Lastly, I’m a sucker for a dramatic entrance, and if they think that Adora is dead, they’d never expect her to show up, which leads to self indulgent imaging number two...
2. Sneaky spy Adora. I feel like I am perhaps giving Adora and Bow too much credit here because espionage has never really been their strong suit, but imagine for me if you will a scenario in which they decide to be subtle. The two of them sneak onto Hoard Prime’s ship and do some spy work, trying to decide on the best course of action to take him out and get Glimmer home. This would be a great opportunity to give Adora a much needed costume change and while realistically I know that the whole vibrant 80′s theme isn’t going to allow it, I would love to see her in black. Also something backless, but that comes into play later in part three. This all ties together. I’ve had a lot of time to plan this. 
So they sneak in and while like, peering out from an air vent or something (Idk the make up of the ship ) she is shocked to see that Catra is there too and that while she and Glimmer still snap at eachother and exchange dirty looks and stuff, they are reluctantly working together. I imagine their situation is sort of like, they come out and do various activities on the ship, whatever Hoard Prime deems them useful for, but they are locked in a cell overnight. Adora observes both situations while trying to get the layout of the ship and formulate a game plan.
I’m not going to say that Bow having actual real live pointy arrows made for long distance stabbing would be an advantage instead of his like, novelty prank arrows buuuuuut..... I know that this is a kid’s show but there are other cartoons that allow characters to get stabbed and stuff like, it could happen. It won’t buuuut anyway....
While running around the ship (in a dramatic hooded cloak that covers her face because of course, what do you take me for) and like, sabotaging things and preparing to dismantle this whole operation, Adora runs into perhaps both Catra and Glimmer but at least Catra (Because sorry Glimmer, I do actually like you but like, I’m playing favorites hardcore here) Maybe she helps with something they’re trying to do and gets caught. They don’t realize it’s her but now this mysterious hooded figure is on their radar. And then when the actual attack happens Adora gets her big reveal and it’s super dramatic and they realize that not only is Adora alive, she was the one they met earlier and just. I’m trash for that kind of trope. Really I am. This then leads into the big battle which also leads into point number three...
3. This point is less concrete, but do you remember Adora’s backless number? Perhaps a black halter top of some kind paired with black pants? Yeah? This is why it’s important. When Adora and Bow finally make their move, Bow goes to rescuse the girls while Adora levels her attack on Hoard Prime. Catra and Glimmer are in their cell and hear alarms start going off. They startle, frustrated at being trapped and unable to know what’s happening outside.
 Then Bow shows up in his own dramatic black hooded cloak (He’s very happy to shed it and let his middrift free once more. It’s felt very unnatural) they’re shocked to see him. But like, it works because Catra probably knew that someone would come for Glimmer but it makes since that it would be Bow since Adora is “dead.” Maybe in a previous conversation (During the time in which the two hesitantly began bonding, because you can’t tell me that’s not where this is going) Glimmer expressed doubt that anyone would come for her after she did such a terrible job being queen. Anyway with Bow here, he and Glimmer hug and they make their escape, the three of them, during which someone questions Bow on what’s happening and he just says that Hoard Prime is being distracted.
Why is the rescue mission just Bow and Adora? Idk. Didn’t think that far ahead. Just go with it. Maybe the other princesses are waiting for their cue to join in later. Maybe it’s because there isnt any water or plants in space and they’re kinda useless. Maybe Entrapta will join in (She has to actually, so she can reunite with Hordak and then he has his whole amnesia thing but like, that’s not part of this. That is a seperate post) Anyway the important thing is that they aren’t here at this point. 
So, Catra and Glimmer are confused about who is distracting Hoard Prime and then, there we go. The dramatic entrance. They look and see Adora in her new outfit, mid-battle with Hoard Prime. And like. It’s a hard battle and she isn’t really making any progress on her own, but she’s fighting really hard and well. I feel like people often forget that Adora was top of her class back in the Hoard like, even if she isn’t She-Ra she’s got to be pretty bad ass and whether the show wants to explore this or not, I will.  I have a theory for this that I will expand on in just a bit. 
So they go to join her only to realize that theres like an invisible barrier preventing them from joining. Maybe it’s a security measure made to protect him from attack that she used to trap her in there with him, while simultaneously keeping his minions out. Maybe it’s just because I want Catra and Glimmer to be forced to watch this battle for a bit while Bow tries to disable the force field but it’s mostly because I’m shipping trash and I want Catra to observe two things.
The first is that Adora looks really cool in this new outfit. Also Adora’s hair is down because I like it that way. She has a new sword, one that’s just a sword and not a She-Ra sword. This one is just for wrecking shit. The second is that Adora is way better at fighting than Catra expected and when Catra expresses this sentiment Glimmer just looks at her like she’s fucking dumb and says something along the line of “I kind of assumed you were the brains of the Hoard, but you’re dumber than I thought if you think that Adora was ever ACTUALLY trying to hurt you.” Followed by, “It’s a shame you didn’t return the sentiment.” And then you get this moment of Catra just watching Adora being really kick ass, coming to terms with the fact that Adora never fought ALL OUT against Catra the way she is against Hoard Prime, like, Adora never tried to murder Catra. And then the last part of Glimmer’s statement sinks in and then Catra notices the claw marks scarred down Adora’s shoulderblades. The ones that she put there, because even if Adora never really tried to hurt Catra, Catra sure as hell never held back on her. And then Catra feels like shit because while I absolutely love her to pieces, she’s been kind of horrible and I want her to suffer a little more before her redemption. 
See why the backless top was necessary? Yep. Good. 
Anyway, predictably Bow lowers the barrier and they join the fight. Maybe Adora takes a bad hit and then Catra catches her or soemthing. The two look at eachother, both realizing that it’s been too long since they fought on the same side, but also silently acknowledging how good it feels. This is meant to foreshadow Catra eventually joining the good side permanantly. They all fight Hoard Prime and maybe the other princesses join in, but since this isn’t the final episode  (Maybe like episode 4 or so?) they don’t defeat him. But they DO do some damage and excape back to Etheria. 
5. This one fits in somewhere before the last point but idk where exactly. Honestly it’s not even important where this snippet goes but at some point Hoard Prime reads Catra’s mind. I don’t know if cannonically he can only read his clone’s minds, but clearly I’m not writing for the show okay, this is my pointless headcanon. I don’t even know the context but Glimmer is there too and Hoard Prime, maybe having grown suspicious of Catra’s loyalty, reads her mind and just drags her. He kind of taunts her for beign sad that her “mother never loved you” to which she snaps like “Shadow Weaver is NOT my mother.” And he just tuts and is like “But it feels like she is.”  And then they get to Adora  and Catra says something about hating her and he calls her out on it like, “Hm no, that’s not quite right is it? No, you love her quite a bit” And then he does that villain thing where they’re kind of talking to themself while filing through your thoughts and it’s like “She would be like your sister after all but oh, whats this? Oh, so not like a sister after all.” And he like, puts her on blast for being in love with Adora. And she denies it and he replies with “A shame you don’t actually mean half the things you say.”
Meanwhile Glimmer is there witnissing it because I don’t know if you can tell yet but like, I really want her to have a better understanding of Catra. I want Catra to understand Glimmer too, but I feel like that’s possible without physically dragging the truth from her like.... she’s not in a great place mentally but no one is worse than Catra, lets be real.
That’s absolutely the most self indulgent part of this entire mile-long post and I don’t even know what you’re doing still reading this. But if you were wondering what I imagine going down, it’s this.
All my imaginings end in Catradora, because I am shipping trash.
So like, if anyone wants to write this out just tag me so I can see it, because I’d love to read it. But if not? Totally understandable. I’m more suprised you read it all because it is 100% a  self-indulgent conglomoration of all my favorite tropes, shoved together whether they make sense or not. 
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audiopilot · 4 years
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Snippet: Remanence Chapter 6
This chapter was hard because it culminates in the scene I initially planned for when starting this fic, but it’s been a long time since I started writing it, and I’ve begun to doubt whether it’s a good idea or not. Idk how many people who read this series enjoy the horror elements over the smut. Especially since there hasn’t been that much of the latter in Remanence lol. It is a scene I will need to add another tag for and definitely comes from my love of body horror. 
So while I am not entirely confident on this chapter’s quality, which is why I’ve sat on it for awhile, I plan to post it within the week barring nothing major coming up. Below is the beginning of the chapter as a preview!
No one spoke.
The tension between the three of them stretched out into the very forest around them, like it was watching their passing with anticipation. There wasn't a hint of the thick fog that marked where the divided spaces met, the space beyond the trees obscured by darkness. The dry crush of dead leaves under Laurie and Ace's feet was too loud, but Jake resisted telling them to walk more carefully. It wouldn't make a difference, Jake had no doubts about the entity being aware of them. It had made a point to lead him out of the fog and here he was, running right back to it with other people in tow.
It stirred up a strange feeling. If anything went wrong, it would be his fault. The sense of responsibility left him uneasy, reminded him of things he wanted to forget.
Every step wound his shoulders tighter together. He inspected the crowded branches above for a sign, a flash of black feathers or burning embers.
From the beginning, Jake had never feared these woods in the same way as the rest of the survivors. Compared to a trial, their emptiness had been reassuring. Exploring it had been the closest thing to his life before the entity. He sought out its borders in the dim hope of some way out. He had crossed into them from the forest he knew; surely the path back existed. Eventually that thought grew smaller and smaller as he lost track of how many trials the entity put him through. When Nea arrived, it had turned into a habit and easy excuse to get away from the crowded campfire.
He had never stopped thinking of it as familiar.
Everything he'd learned about survival had no purpose here. There was no point in knowing how to search for water or hunt for food when those needs no longer remained. There was no oncoming winter to prepare for, no need to fix what the elements weathered down. Why did it matter that he could light a fire, when the campfire burned without ever consuming a thing? Their existence was guaranteed whether they wanted it to be or not. Survival had become about something else.
In all the times he had wandered these woods, how close had he been to danger without realizing it?
The thought was undercut by Ace tripping over a tree root with a soft curse. Laurie whipped around at the sudden commotion, hand over her pocket. 
Ace waved his hand at them, lips tugging up at the corners as he flipped it up to make their "all okay" signal. Apparently he'd been putting more of an effort into learning them.
Laurie didn't relax as they continued, hand close to where she obviously had something sharp hidden. She continually scanned around them. In contrast, Ace hadn't stopped smiling, arms swinging a little at his sides. His previous solemnity had evaporated, and he paid more attention to the ground than the surrounding woods.
Too confident, Jake thought, but that seemed to be Ace's state of being.
Jake stared into the trees ahead without really seeing them. There was no "path," no clear signs of his earlier passing. It was his sense of the bond that he followed. In and out it went, like a faint scent that refused to reveal its origin. There was no clear impression of Myers on the other end.  
He licked his sensitive lips, the corners of his jaw still stiff. It had to have been less than a half-hour since he'd been on his knees, quick to give into need like he was back in high school again. He did his best to ignore the uncomfortable, sticky aftermath underneath his clothes. While he'd cleaned himself the best he could, it wasn't the same as actually rinsing off in a shower. Even standing under the freezing water of his old, makeshift one would have been preferable, especially the longer they walked.
Nothing changed. It hadn't taken him this long to arrive back a the campfire, and Jake's doubts increased as Ace kept pausing to comb through the grass until his hands were full of items. Compared to when Jake and Meg looked for things, Ace was practically tripping over supplies, but having to stop for him to catch up was quickly growing old. 
After Ace yet again made a soft exclamation and split off, Laurie demanded, "Will you stop?"
"What's the hurry? Look at what I'm finding!"
"Do you have to do it now?"
"See this beauty." Ace showed off the last thing he'd picked up. It was a syringe. Within the glass barrel, a brightly colored substance sloshed and bubbled.
"What is that for?" she asked.
Ace looked back at it before shrugging and Laurie scoffed.
"It instantly heals you, even when you're dying."
Both survivors jumped at Jake's interjection, like they hadn't realized he was right there and had ears.
"Useful," Laurie observed and Ace nodded with a grin.
"Only in a trial," Jake said, picking a slim gap between two trees to keep going. He had to duck slightly to avoid brushing against their low branches. "Which this isn't."
They both followed without further comment. Right when Jake began to think the entity was blocking them from ever finding it, the forest began to thin and the darkness lighten. 
Slowing, the survivors grouped closer together. Jake raised his hand in the signal for them to stop when the fog completely overtook the forest and enveloped them. Jake looked around. He had been able to spot the campfire last time, but the fog was all-encompassing, not a hint left behind of the clearing or woods. If he took a few more steps it seemed like he would lose sight of even Laurie and Ace.
"Is this it?" asked Ace as Laurie pulled out her broken piece of glass. Something about it struck Jake as odd, but he couldn't figure out what. Like he'd forgotten something important. Distracted by the jagged edge in her hand, Jake's response died in his throat when he saw a dark shape force the fog to part.
Someone approached.
Jake instinctively grasped at the bond, but it slipped away. 
The raw sounds of her breathing betrayed her identity before she drifted fully into view. Ace fumbled with his load of items, dropping half of them to scatter everywhere. A battery bounced past Jake and rolled underneath the nurse's limp feet. Her head lolled as she took in all three survivors. Closer to her than Laurie or Ace, Jake didn't dare look away as he started to walk backwards.
She teleported without warning, a blast of displaced hair hitting Jake as she appeared over him. She swung her bonesaw down over his head and Jake tried to avoid it. It ripped into his arm, past his sleeves and biting into skin. Jake bounced into something, blocking his escape. Jake clutched at his stinging forearm, seeing nothing there. Without realizing it, he must have crossed the barrier and it was back to being impassable. The timing couldn't have been worse.
He thought he heard Ace say something about an oven, which didn't make any sense. When he checked on them, Jake was puzzled to see Laurie kicking at thin air. She was too far away from the barrier, based on where he stood, so why...?
The sound of bells. He twisted to keep everyone in sight even while the air distorted and burned next to him. He hadn't bumped against the barrier at all.
White eyes aglow in his stern face, the wraith fully materialized.
Jake was trapped between both killers.
The wraith growled, reaching for him, and Jake ran. He was too slow, the wraith catching him by the back of his jacket. Wrenched upwards, his feet were left kicking the air and his collar pulled taut around his throat. Jake managed to grab overhead at the wraith's hand. His fingers slipped across a thin wrist, the metal bracelets covering it parting until he accidentally touched the wraith's cold skin. The butchered, human skull at the end of his demented weapon filled Jake's vision. 
"Corrupt filth," the wraith spoke, deep voice hollow and raising every hair on Jake's body, "Transgress no further."
Then Jake was suddenly hitting the ground, something giving in where it shouldn't have with a dull pop that he both felt and heard. Hands pulled at him, yanking on his shoulder and Jake panted through the blazing flare of pain. 
"D-don't," Jake gasped. Ace frowned down at him. "My arm."
Ace's face went understanding when he saw the way it dangled. Jake couldn't move it and used his working arm to hold onto Ace and pull himself into a sitting position.
The wraith had thrown him onto the survivor side of the barrier. Laurie positioned herself between them, brandishing her glass shard, but neither killer attempted to cross. The nurse floated until she was beside the wraith, the small lights around her left hand spinning fast.
"Is he okay?" Laurie asked. 
"Could be worse," noted Ace. Despite the nonchalant words, there was a fine tremor coming from the hand resting on Jake's back. Ace was shaking. "Shoulder's dislocated. You positive this syringe won't help?" 
"I'm sure," Jake said. It would be a waste. "I can make it."
He failed his attempt to stand before he even started, too lightheaded as the muscles all along his shoulder felt stretched beyond their limit. All he could smell was Ace. Despite the pain and the danger only an invisible wall away, he was uncomfortably aware of Ace's scent, gone sour with fear though Ace hadn't stopped smiling. He didn't want to think about what Ace could scent off him in return.
Ace didn't mention it as he murmured, "Come on, kid, let's get you on your feet."
With his support, Jake was able to get upright. But the more helpful the man was about it, the more Jake's stomach rolled hot. He'd been caught entirely off guard, relied too much on the bond while distracted by his own thoughts when he should have been ready to encounter trouble. 
Myers' attention suddenly crawled over him, touched him from head to toe. His shoulder throbbed when a phantom touch swept over it.
Stop it, Jake thought.
"What is that?" said Ace, stiffening beside him and Jake glanced over in surprise. Had he noticed the bond somehow?
"Michael," Laurie said the name like a curse and he realized both betas were staring out into the fog.
Myers stood behind the wraith and nurse.
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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years
Text
Starcrossed Losers VII (Josh Wheeler xReader)
A/N: So I guess most of you already heard the news about Daybreak… It sucks, and I’m really upset about it, but don’t worry, I won’t stop writing about the show, I love the story and I think as long as there are people interested in it, we can keep it alive. With nothing else to add, I hope you enjoy the chapter, see you on Thursday
Words: 4,153
Warnings: Blood, dead people, feelings, Y/N has a breakdown at some point and Eli is there to kinda calm her down??? idk, bad writing cause I just can’t proofread to save my life.
Previous chapter // Next chapter
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I sent Wesley and Angelica to talk to Eli but it was a failure so now I’m waiting here while they get medicines from another place. I’m hungry as hell and waiting for a solution isn’t helping my anxiety. So I write a third note apart from the ones Wesley and Angelica put about going to the pharmacy on Josh’s hand saying I‘m looking for more bandages (cause now we only have one left) and that he better don’t move from where he is or I’ll knock him off again.
See? this is what I mean, people only cause you problems if you’re a good person. Will Josh wake up to thank us for doing all this stuff? Probably not, cause he’s too busy thinking about kissing Sam to be a decent human being. 
But who am I to judge anyway, is not like I was the embodiment of selflessness. I was going to end Alex’s relationship, that’s the kind of person I am.
——————————————
“Alex, hey! Alex!” I’ve been standing outside his place for what it feels like the longest time, it’s freezing and dark out here; if my parents notice I’m not home I won’t hear the end of it, but this is important. I need to know exactly where I’m standing on Alex’s life.
‘Y/N, you literally told us like two chapters ago that you and Alex never talked about the kiss, what the hell are you doing?’ Well…
“Y/N? Is all okay?”
Just keep reading.
“Stuart,” I say in a tone of surprise, “I didn’t know you were coming over to Alex’s”
“Yeah, we’re gonna watch a movie” Stuart says, giving me a curious look, “I didn’t know he had invited you”
“He didn’t,” I say quickly, “no, I just need to talk to him about something… school stuff.”
“School?”
“I know it’s late, but you know me,” I shrug, trying to sound as casual as posible, “I got all anxious about it and he wasn’t answering my texts, so…”
“Oh, I think it’s because he’s taking a shower,” He smiles, “but hey, let’s go inside so you don’t freeze to death.”
“I really don’t wanna bother…”
“Come on, Y/N, you’re a friend,” Stuart replies, “it’s better if you stop worrying about it and ask him, you’re here anyway.”
We walk inside Alex’s house and I sit on the edge of the couch, unable to control my anxiety. I look over to my friend and a sudden idea hits me. I could tell him and all would be over…
Stop! What did Katie just told you? I can’t do it with Stuart here, I can’t ruin their date. I can’t ruin my friends’ relationship just cause I’m confused about my own feelings. This is dumb, I can live with the doubt, I don’t have to do this. I’ll tell Stuart to not worry about it and I’ll-
“Y/N?” Alex appears at the end of the stairs, his hair is damped and his shirt has tiny droplets. But overall he looks nice.
And that’s when I realize, Alex never dressed like that for our outings. Or for when I was the one going over to his house to watch movies. He never did any of those nice things he does for Stuart. I discovered (with lots of pain) that if I ask him right now to tell me who is he in love with, he’s not gonna say my name.
And that’s all I needed to know.
“Uh, hi,” My voice comes out hoarse, I try to fix it before I continue, “you know what?” I look over to Stuart, “I can fix it on my own, don’t worry about it. Thanks for letting me in though.”
“Are you sure?” Stuart asks me in confusion.
“Yeah, I’m sure. You…” I look intently to Alex, making sure he knows what I mean with what I’m about to say, “clearly have something more important going on here. Don’t worry, I’ll do fine.”
Alex opens his mouth to answer but nothing comes out. He stares at me with a pained expression. Stuart walks me out since he’s the closest to me.
“Enjoy the night for me, will you?” I ask him once we’re outside, “and take care of Alex, he’s the only best friend I have.”
“Sure thing, boss,” He chuckles, “have a good night, Y/N. Try to not get so easily scared about little things.”
——————————————
“I don’t get easily scared,” I grumble, holding tightly the bandages against my chest, “fucking Stuart, being super nice…”
My rambling dies as soon as I’m in front of Josh’s bed. He’s tied up and has a piece of fabric on his mouth. Crumble is standing beside him.
“Uhm,” I look at her, “what the fuck?”
“He’s safe,” She mumbles, looking at his hand with hunger, “Don’t worry, he still has all of his body parts. Except for the finger.”
“I want to ask… but at the same time, I’m too afraid to do so,” I shake my head, and put the bandages on the table next to me, “that’s enough, we’re fixing this on our own, Crumble. I’m talking with Eli myself, he’ll give me whatever it is he has on that fucking pharmacy and he will do it, now,” I point to Crumble expecting to look at least a bit threatening, “no biting while I’m gone!”
“No biting,” Crumble shakes her head with enthusiasm.
Cut to five minutes later, I’m standing next to the curtain and screaming to get his attention.
“Eli Cardashyan, get your ass here right now!”
“Ah, have you guys come to your senses?” He’s got an annoying smirk on his face, “Do you have my lotion?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask, “No. Wesley and Angelica haven’t returned but Josh is getting worse and I need medicine. Please.”
“Open this shit up, then.”
“No can do, Wesley took the keys with him,” I reply.
“Then I’m sorry but I can’t help you.”
“Can you stop acting like a child for a second?” I huff in exasperation, “Neither Josh or I ever did anything to you at school. Help him.”
“But you saw,” He points his finger and wiggles it through the curtain, “you saw how they treated me and you never did anything about it.”
“Dude, if I would’ve tried to help every single student that the jocks mistreated I’d have been killed in the first month. I wasn’t fucking Sam Dean, no one knew my name and sure as hell no one respected me more than they respected you. How important is that now anyway? That happened months ago when dogs were still normal size.”
“Well, now more than ever my survival depends on whether or not I like or trust you. And I don’t. So I want you out of here.”
“Fine,” I try to grab his finger but he takes it back, “give me the medication and I’ll make sure we all leave the mall tomorrow morning.”
“For real?” His eyes widened.
“Well, yes asshole. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I was fucking with you just to get on your nerves,” Eli raises his hands, “I have no medicines.”
“You don’t… What?!”
“I told Wesley before, I don’t have what he needs. That’s why they decided to look for it elsewhere,” He chuckles, “but it’s good to know you’re easily persuaded.”
“Fuck you, Eli!” I exclaim, “All I’m trying to do is to keep Josh alive, cause I don’t run away from problems and I’m totally capable of facing them, okay?! I need him to be okay, cause then all I did was a waste of time!”
And I’m having a crisis, I’m totally having a crisis when I fall to the floor crying over a stupid dying boy. 
“Hey, calm down,” Eli scrunches down to be at my level, though he can’t really touch me cause I’m sitting way further, he stays as close to the curtain as possible, “I’m sure Wesley and Angelica will get them, don’t lose it.”
“I’m such an asshole,” I cover my face with both hands, completely unable to stop the tears, “I can’t seem to do the right thing no matter what”
“What do you mean? You’ve been taking care of Josh for a whole day, you’re not an asshole.”
“I’m only doing it cause I feel guilty!” I shake my head, “I did something horrible to my best friend and my sister, and now I want to fix it with another human being so I feel less guilty about my shit. And I just fucked it up again. I should pack my bags and leave”
“Dude whatever you did, I’m sure it doesn’t make you a monster. I mean, Baron Triumph already took the title.”
I hate this. I’m drowning in stress and I’m telling this to Eli out of all people. Now he most certainly will use it against me and I can’t do anything about it. The worst part is that I’m truly scared of what might happen to Josh if we don’t give him the right treatment. He still has the chance that was taken from me months ago. He can be reunited with the person he cares about the most.
I manage to calm down enough to clear my head and stand up, I clean my face and I look over to Eli with a threatening expression.
“For the record, I’m not crying because of Josh”
“Yeah, I could tell because your speech had no shit to do with him”
“I just have a lot to deal with,” I take a deep breath before continuing, “I know I’m not a monster. I said I was an asshole. And if you tell them anything of what just happened I will-”
“No need to put a knife on my throat,” He interrupts me, “I won’t tell them.”
“How do I know you’re being honest?”
“Cause you just had a breakdown in front of me and I don’t want to see that again, that shit’s scary,” Eli stands up too, “whatever happened before the nuke, well, you said it, it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s all bullshit now.”
“But you said…”
“Yeah, whatever,” Eli starts to walk away, “go back to Josh, make sure he’s not swallowing his tongue or something.” 
I really want to keep the conversation going, but he’s right. I should go back to Josh. And thank fuck I did, cause I came back to a horror show. 
Crumble was sitting at the edge of the bed, watching a bowl filled with larvae as they were eating out of Josh’s hand.
“Am I going to come back to some freaky shit every time I leave you alone?” I ask in fear, pulling her away from the bed, “What is going on?”
“They’re eating the infection,” She replies happily, “you said we were gonna fix this, so I helped you fix it.”
I look at his hand and I can’t see the skin, but we saw something about it in class, I think, like a semester ago. I don’t know what to say except for…
“Thanks,” I sit on the chair I slept in last night, “I can’t believe we didn’t think of that.”
“It’s cause you can’t think with an empty stomach,” Crumble nods, “we can share my worms after they’re done if you want”
“I don’t eat people…” I scrunch up my nose in disgust, “or worms. Or infections. Thank you for the offer, though.”
“Okay,” she turns around and goes back to have a conversation with her dolls.
“It’s been a hard couple of days,” I mumble, looking at Josh and trying to feel okay with the gross sound of the larvae eating his flesh, “but somehow, I’m okay with it.”
I try to remember exactly how did Josh and I meet. The first time, I mean. When we did our school project.
“Y/N L/N and… Josh Wheeler” Crumble mentions, and I straighten up in my seat.
“Who the hell is Josh Wheeler?” I say under my breath.
“That’d be me,” The boy at my right says, turning his body towards me.
Ah, shit. That’s awkward.
“Oh, sorry,” I smile apologetically, “I hadn’t heard your name before.”
“That’s cause I’m new here,” He smiles, “it’s alright, don’t worry. Josh is a common name anyway, so plenty of people don’t remember how I look.”
“I’ll make sure I’m not one of them.”
“That’s very appreciated, Y/N. I can call you Y/N, right?” He asks.
“That’s my name after all,” I grin.
“Cool,” Josh nods, “so, about the project…”
“If you can do it this thursday, I’m free.”
“Me too. We can go at my place if you want, my mom won’t be home so we won’t bother anyone.”
“Uh,” I hesitate for a moment, “Not that I don’t love going over to strangers’ houses but…”
“Don’t worry, I won’t try anything funny,” Josh chuckles, probably knowing exactly what I’m thinking, “but if you feel uncomfortable we can just go to your place, or the library”
“No, it’s fine. We can go to your place,” the dude seems decent, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, “see you next thursday, at two outside school, then?”
“Sure,” He gives me a small smile before heading out of the classroom and we keep going with our lives.
——————————————
“We’re here!” Wesley pulls me back from my thoughts and I jump from my seat towards the entrance of the store.
“You got the stuff?”
“Oh, we got the stuff,” He shows me Angelica’s bag, packed with white bottles of pills. I squeal a little and give Wesley a tight hug, “look at that! Someone’s happy”
“I didn’t want to carry his ghost for the rest of my life, so yes. I’m relieved,” I grab the bottles but Angelica takes the bag from my hands, “hey!”
“I’m gonna make edible slime for him”
“Are you serious?”
“It won’t take long, besides he’s asleep now, right? And Crumble said she found a way to get rid of his gangrene, so he’ll be fine.”
And that’s when it hits me, Josh is going to be fine.
“Yeah… yes. Do the slime then, I’ll be with Josh.”
“You can rest if you want,” Wesley offers, “he’s out of danger.”
“I got used to being there, you know?” I shrug, “it won’t hurt to sleep one more night on the chair.”
It’s a lie, of course. It will hurt my neck and back, but I need to see the work completed, I need to see him with color on his face and laughing stupidly at his own jokes. 
——————————————
“You have a bad memory?” I ask Josh while pointing at the three post-it notes on the kitchen.
“Nah, that’s just my mom making sure I do what she needs me to do while she’s out,” He brushes it off, “just ignore them.”
“Okay,” I walk over to the living room and sit next to him, opening my backpack, “where should we start?”
“I think the second subtheme was the most extense. I was reading it during lunch and I feel like it will take us years to finish it, so maybe that?”
“You were reading about chemistry during our lunchbreak?” I giggle.
“Well I didn’t want to look like an asshole today, like, what if you had done research on your own and then came to my house to hear me say ‘oh, I don’t know what our work is about, I spent all night playing Outlast’ that would’ve sucked”
“I guess,” I reply, “let’s use all that knowledge then, before it fades.”
“I have plenty of knowledge,” He nods, keeping the joke alive, “I even googled the words I couldn’t understand.”
I laugh again and he joins in happily. He’s nice, I wonder if we’ll still talk after this.
——————————————
Spoiler alert, we didn’t. We finished the work, we got a ‘B’, we high-fived and said “hey, nice work” and we moved on. Cause that’s what you do when you’re seventeen and you’re paired up with someone you barely know. I had other stuff in my mind to be thinking “You know what could be fun? If I befriended that Josh guy I met in chemistry class”, I kept my promise, though. I never forgot his face, and he remembered my name and waved at me whenever he saw me in the halls. That was sweet.
When I wake up the next morning Josh’s aspect has improved. He’s not pale and isn’t sweating as much. The bowl with larvae is gone and it’s been replaced with the one with slime.
I rummage through my stuff and find a small package of cookies. I also pull out my notepad and cross them from my list. I’ll make sure to replace them before I leave. Halfway through my breakfast, Josh moves slightly and raises his hand, which is still reddish but now is a normal reddish and doesn’t smell like Ghoulie.
“Goodmorning, champ,” I smirk.
Josh looks at me and drops his head back on the pillows.
“I’m alive.”
“You are,” I eat the last cookie and drop the package, “eat up. Angelica made it for you.”
He turns his head towards the table and sees the slime, sitting up with more strength and animosity than the day before, he takes the bowl on his hands and tastes it carefully.
“Good?” I ask, he nods in approval.
“Cool,” I get up to leave, but he speaks up.
“Wait,” I turn around to look at him, “how long have you been there?”
“Oh,” I blush, not really wanting to answer the question, but I figure that if I don’t do it, someone else will, “the whole time, probably?”
“You stayed the whole night again?”
“I know you don’t like that-”
“No, thanks,” He replies with a soft, tired voice, “I was a dick the other day, thank you for looking after me.”
“I was making sure you were alright, that’s all”
“I know. I’m really sorry for treating you like that, you didn’t deserve it.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page now,” I reply, “cause that means I can go without feeling guilty.”
“Oh. Right.” I think he looks disappointed for a second, but it goes away as soon as it comes, “You’re leaving…”
“I have to go restock so…” I don’t wait for a reply and I flee before he speaks to me again. 
Why? Oh, cause I hate confrontation and if I hear him I’ll probably want to stay. Turns out I kinda got attached to stupid Josh for spending a whole day watching over him and now is like that puppy you rescue from the rain, that you know you can’t keep but it has the cutest eyes you’ve seen and it’s just so cute? Yeah, I know you know what I’m talking about.
I’m on my way to retrieve the stuff I left on the store when I run into Josh. He’s out of the bed and is looking quite lively.
“Hey!” He grins, “I wanted to thank you.” 
“Dude, you already did that,” I roll my eyes smiling, “you need to stop before my ego flies through the roof. I’m telling you, you don’t wanna see-”
“You saved my life, Y/N. Along with the others, sure,” He adds, “but you went out of your way to stay and made sure the others got the medicines. You could’ve left me to die and you decided to stay and help.”
“Well, I needed my redemption. I didn’t do it just to be nice.”
“You kind of did,” He points out, “just like how you called me by my name whenever you got the chance at school, and how you offered me help to find Sam even though this was supposedly Triumph’s territory. You’re cool.”
“Thank you. You’re nice.”
“Don’t call me nice,” He shakes his head, “you say someone’s nice when you don’t have anything else to say”
“No. It depends on how the person says it. I say nice when there’s plenty to say,” I correct him, “but I can list all of it if you want,” I think about it for a moment before I start to enlist, “you’re sweet and caring, and resourceful. And you’re brave, cause instead of joining any tribe, you have been looking for a girl all on your own-”
“Okay, okay!” He stops me mid-sentence, “you win. Nice is good. I get it. Stop.”
Josh smiles openly at me and I catch myself thinking about how pretty his smile is.
NO. We are not going over the road again, Y/N. Don’t even think about it.
“Anyway, I wanted to thank you, so I got this for you” He pulls out a pair of bright, lime-green skates from his backpack, “I decided it was my turn to do something for you so I got you new skates.”
“Holy shit,” I whisper, trying to look cool about it, “any reason why you chose this color?”
“I don’t know, they felt like you,” Josh says simply, “if that makes any sense.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, and I know, I know I’m blushing.
Now more than ever I need to leave before this feeling grows into something more dangerous.
“You’re not even staying the night?”
“I told Angelica I would stay until you were better. How do you feel?”
“I feel…” He doubts for a moment, then continues, “I feel better.”
“Then my work here is done,” I smile, “take care, Wheeler.”
“I know it’s sappy to say it, but I will kinda miss you.”
“Shut up,” I roll my eyes, avoiding eye contact.
“Seriously, who will take care of our injuries when you’re gone? You should leave a notebook with instructions about what to do in case of stabbing, ghoulie bites, sunburns and stuff like that. You must have googled those too on your boring days, right?”
I laugh, nodding.
“I did,” I didn’t, but you know, fanfiction writers are dedicated as fuck to their research, “but maybe some other time? if we see each other again, I’ll make sure to have the notebook ready.”
“Deal,” Josh is beaming, not for me though, he just seems happy to be alive. 
My heart can’t take that sight so early in the morning, so I look away.
“Uh, Angelica told me they wanted to talk to you…” I mention.
“Oh,” The boy frowns, “okay.”
I follow him those few steps so I can say goodbye to Wesley and Angelica too, and luckily enough, both of them are sitting next to each other.
“Hey,” Josh raises his voice, “what flavor is this anyway? Antibiotic apple or, uh…” He chuckles, “triage truffle?”
Ah, there they are, the silly jokes. Fuck, I’ll miss that stupid sense of humor.
“They call it Josh-Cut-Off-His-Finger-Because-He-Sucks-Dick Berry,” Angelica answers softly.
“Rude,” I reply, then I realize she’s crying and my heart drops, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“What’s going on?” Josh asks beside me, “Are you crying?”
“Come with us,” Is all she says before standing up and taking us outside the mall where they lead us towards a car.
Wesley opens the trunk and we stare at a corpse covered with a white sheet with bloodstains.
“We found her body on the way back.”
I look over to Angelica to find some kind of sign that this is all a bad joke, surely that can’t be…
“Show me,” Demands Josh, I hold my breath waiting for the worst.
Wesley pulls the sheet away and there’s no longer a face where it should be a face. It’s destroyed. The only thing that I recognized, is that yellow pin she used to wear all the time on her clothes.
“No…” I whisper.
“Sam,” Josh leans shakily against the trunk and carefully caresses the hair on her head, “oh, Sam…”
It’s more than I can take. I walk away from the car and turn my back to them, hands against my eyes so I don’t start crying for the second time that week.
This is not fair. It was supposed to be a happy ending. Josh, finding the girl and me finally free from any guilt. It wasn’t supposed to end with Sam Dean’s body at the back of a car. 
I wanna say that I’ll leave anyway. That I’m still packing my bags and walking out. But no. I’m staying cause I can’t leave Josh when they just took away from him the only thing that mattered the most. I know how that feels, and it sucks to have to live it alone. It hurt when Alex walked away after I had killed Katie. I’m not gonna do that to Josh, or anyone. I’m not scared. 
I’m staying.
Taglist.
@letsbloodmagic @hollywaterpls​
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fangsmyth · 4 years
Text
i’ve been meaning to analyze the shit out of his poem but..... i’m on break now so i have time
it’s prefaced as “ a poem written in free verse, based on something haunting me as of late reflecting on one of my most complicated and passionate past relationships ” so while i know for a fact i could derive MANY different meanings i’m focusing strictly on this intention
i’m normally really bad at analyzing poetry but..... for Him i will Try ( this is a lot of nonsense rambling please do not mind me i am a fucking idiot if anyone has any other onions i’d love to discuss! ....p-please do not steal;;; )
gaslighting and emotional abuse warning under the cut but who’s fucking surprised
What is the meaning of a memory? A question I oft ponder Intangible and untraceable by anything but the mind Yet so potent as to leaVe one sick As if poisoned or Wounded in a literal sense.
just kind of setting the stage i guess is the best way to call this part? his first fucking stanza is god damn terrible memories leave scars that no one can see i could’ve come up with this in my goth phase
And What meaning is there in regret and longing? Can my lamentations change the past? Will they moVe the future? Shall they amount to much more than What unmoors my here and noW?
p self explanatory imo? this goes into a bit of detail about how despite the relationship being over, he’s still thinking about it and he feels bad about what he did and how he treated them.
‘ Will they moVe the future? ’ implies that despite his regret, he doesn’t feel like he’ll learn from his mistakes since he’s made them so many times before. especially so with the next line ‘ Shall they amount to much more than What unmoors my here and noW? ’
he already feels insecure, and any future mistakes he makes are just going to contribute to that;;
If I restrict my World to that but Which is before my eyes To those Whom I may touch, to that Which I might alter; One Would no doubt conclude that thoughts of You are last among What I could consider to “matter”.
this a really interesting stanza, recognizing that the past and present don’t matter, much less any people in the past that hurt him. he knows he should be looking at the here and now, but he can’t help but feel anxious about what happened and what will happen in future relationships.
( also keep in mind that ‘You’ is capitalized, not as a part of lanque’s quirk despite how naturally it seems to fit with his quirk. i kind of ended up interpreting it how ‘You’ is capitalized like you would ‘God’ and ‘Lord’ implying lanque puts this person on an insanely high pedestal? )
it’s super interesting imo that he chooses to say ‘could’ instead of ‘should’, implying he sees it as an option to stop thinking about the other but not a necessity or, for that matter, the best option he has. 
it implies that he recognizes that he has the option to learn from his mistakes, but........
And still You haunt me yet, like a scar, like a disease uneager to abate. Who are You and Who am I, after so long Without You?
it kind of hit me at this point that despite the fact that it was something lanque was recently thinking about, it’s... possible that it wasn’t a recent relationship. he’s clearly fully submerging himself into the role of the victim in this horrible relationship with emotional abuse to the point of forced codependence.
i’m legit having a hard time telling whether this is a matter of lanque making himself out to be the victim ( as emotional vampires often do ) or the very real possibility that he honest to god was the victim of a horrible relationship that left him..... permanently scarred to the point he feels like all relationships are just SUPPOSED to be that way 
i’m gonna mainly use language that points towards the latter despite the fact that i honestly believe the more obscure and difficult to explain possibility that this is him trying to put himself in the shoes of someone he treated like garbage ( since idk i feel like he’s really good at recognizing and understanding peoples’ emotions, just not so much feeling them himself )
talking about it as if he were actually the victim just makes this a lot easier to analyze
i’m kind of...... getting ahead of myself though lemme lay down the next stanza
I knoW I don’t knoW I Won’t knoW; What do I knoW but What I knoW and What can it eVen mean to KNOW?
an allusion to gaslighting. i’m bad at writing out definitions i literally just know things my brain is huge and you’re all just jealous so to copy paste from the wikipedia google search result
Gaslighting is a form of psychological manipulation in which a person seeks to sow seeds of doubt in a targeted individual or in members of a targeted group, making them question their own memory, perception, and sanity.
i *loudly gestures* i don’t feel like i need to explain much further! going between saying he knows and doesn’t know, literally talking in circles and questioning what the concept of keeping knowledge even means!! this relationship kind of fucked him up!!!!!!
knoW, knoW; No!
kind of redundant that this line is on its own, just implies getting fed up and ready to leave?
Agh, though it so Vexes me, Though so little I Valued it When it Was before me, a thing and a You I could touch and see and knoW and hate and Wonder. (reVile/Worship).
AH HERE’S THE GOD SHIT AGAIN I KNEW IT WAS HERE SOMEWHERE!!!
lanque didn’t see this person as such a central figure when he was in the relationship, or it’s possible that he simply didn’t realize how important they were to him. their godliness implies that this person was always above him, that it was a privilege to be graced with their presence alone.
this (reVile/Worship) shit in my mind reads very similar to one of the ten commandments saying ‘we must fear and love god’ or some shit like that, but it doesn’t quite fit. it’s highly probable that it just implies that the relationship walked on a very fine tightrope between kismesis and matesprit ugh i went so long without using homestuck terms i’m sad now.... anyways this is call back to that implication of choice i was talking about earlier that’s built on more immediately
NoW it, and You, are a traceless ghost, and I preoccupy myself With nothing but futile tasks of (RE)definition and (RE)interpretation and circuitous dWellings on that Which I understand eVen less noW.
SUPER obvious but the person in the relationship is gone and lanque doesn’t know what to do without them. goes over how it’s hard for him to tell whether this is a refining of his pre-existing personality or just a brand new one all together. again, a choice as to whether or not that’s how he wants to approach it
the path to this reinvention is brought about through a bunch of rebounds and new relationships, ‘circuitous dwellings’ implying he possibly stayed in some of them for too long and he honest to god has no idea why? like he wasn’t enjoying himself, he wasn’t really being reinvented. it solidifies that it was flat out a new definition as lanque is more or less going through the motions
than in the times When my Wonderings might’Ve been so easily ansWered With a question or a bite or a kiss, or eVen a single Word, spoken honestly.
STRANGE to me how this starts as if it continues the past sentence despite the fact that it DEFINITELY ends in a period i double checked 
anyways
he also finds himself having a MUCH easier time following the motions than trying to internalize and understand this relationship. ‘wonderings’ being... pretty obviously just anxiety thoughts like you know how your brain just says things that aren’t true
and figuring out if they were would’ve been easy if he just said something or did something!!
Pressed though I am to giVe color to our bond I look not to onyx nor ash but that Which pulses Within our Very Veins: that so blinding jade, hard as the stone for Which it is so named,
interesting that this sort of starts an outline towards giving the subject an actual identity?
like specifically saying “pulses within our very veins: that so blinding jade” OBVIOUSLY says that it’s another jade in the cloister that this is about?
usually i’d like to say that writers usually don’t do this without reason but despite the praises i constantly speak alone in my room about the endless array of implications in every other thing that comes out of lanque’s mouth i also know v is a fucking hack and a got damn terrible writer
some gremlin at 3am whispered in my ear in the middle of the night saying this is about a past relationship with bronya and i did have some points but bronya is too good so i’m going to tell that gremlin to go fuck himself
tWisted and pulled hammered and forged shaped, unnaturally as if a chain.
there were so many things they went through to try and get this to work, but it kind of just came up as an obviously fucked up mess. likely considering that it would’ve ended/ran its course a lot better if they didn’t even try getting together. 
i wish every stanza was this simple
A stricture Within scriptures; a certain so meaningful tincture.
calling back to that whole “easily answered with a question, or a bite, or a kiss, or a single word spoken honestly” and those whole religious undertones that i keep pushing this solidifies that i’m not fucking crazy
GOD there’s so much in this little piece the very fact that his object of affection’s voice and words alone leave him feeling that he literally has no room to speak. the stricture is like a noose around his neck if he talks out of turn, hence the frustration that he knows something his wrong but he simply isn’t allowed to say something.
until he gets his hand on that ‘meaningful tincture’. alcohol gives him the courage to speak up and defy that gospel, alluding to his dependence on drugs and why they’re so important to him! it’s a lifestyle he wouldn’t give up because he’d hate to be silenced again!
Resent You though I must, EnVy You though I may,
emphasizing that shit i was talking about earlier with could vs. should, lanque feels like the right thing to do is look back at this in scorn. he should despise this person he idolized so much and envy how easy it was for them to lock him in such a vulnerable position for so long yet here he is..... thinking about them again
NoW leagues and leagues stretch betWeen us And I make peace With not but What I say.
these lines are pretty transparent. this was never resolved, there was never a proper conclusion to this relationship. they kind of just drifted apart, but lanque can take solace in the truth and completion of this poem. he makes peace with the fact that he acknowledges all of the problems in the relationship, and chooses to make them a part of him rather than something to just scowl and scoff at
You are only that Which is Within me, my blood and my mind and that is at once nothing, and the most elementary definition of eVerything.
i’m tired man i wrote like what 5 google drive pages about it i feel like i’d be repeating myself since this is his equivalent of wrapping it up and tying it in a lil bow
just because it happened and ultimately doesn’t matter doesn’t mean he didn’t internalize it?
this sort of ended up defining the person he became since it just shook him that badly man
do i need to go into more depth than that i just want some fucking chicken
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sinsofsummers · 5 years
Text
Stay With Me
Request: “hey beautiful idk if you can do this but can you write a plus size reader with a plus sized thor please when thor is having a panic attack and she’s insecure and they comfort each other?” from @lilacprincessofrecovery
Pairing: Plus size!Thor x Plus size!Fem!reader
Word Count: 2.95k (wow, I didn’t mean to make it this long??)
Summary: After the Avengers go their separate ways after killing Thanos, you find yourself getting closer to Thor, learning how to take care of a man with more ghosts in his head than he lets on. Of course, everyone has their own demons. You know this especially well.
Warnings: Major spoilers for endgame(obviously), some serious angst, PTSD, panic attacks, body insecurity, self-deprecation, and some semblance of fluff at the end. Please, beware if you get triggered by any of these things. This is gonna be a rough one, but totally worth it in the end.
Note: Thank you so much for requesting this! This may now be my favorite piece of work that I’ve written on this blog! I really enjoy writing requests, so hopefully I did it justice! Feel free to send in more requests, people!
Send in your own request!
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(this is literally the only gif of thor in endgame that actually worked for some reason)
It wasn’t every day you got the chance to befriend the god of thunder and king of Asgard. After everything happened that resulted in half the universe disappearing into dust, you had lost your family and friends. The only affiliation you had left was the Asgardian blood that tied you to the meager population of people you’d grown up with. 
Through the healing process, a new safe haven on Earth for all Asgardians, properly named New Asgard, had been established. At first, it just felt like it was a crowded space full of rolling plains that were dotted with empty-minded people, just trying to grieve their lost loved one. But as time went on and everyone began to come to terms with the loss of half of all life, things seemed to turn as close to normal as they could considering the change of scenery and...other things.
You rarely saw the King of Asgard anymore. He’d put on a brave face, of course, making sure everyone was safe and accounted for. But once things were able to be run on their own without his constant supervision, he’d let others take over and retracted back into his hut, where he lived with Korg and Miek, his closest friends after the events of Ragnarok and Thanos’ reign of terror on the universe.
It was a long while before anyone saw him; his regular appearances were only to restock his beer collection in his house, drowning himself in countless beer bottles that no doubt littered the floors of his hut. You had a hard time adjusting to this new king of sorts; he’d always been so noble. He’d always known what to say, and when he didn’t, he’d ask for help. But now, he was lost. You knew this more than anyone. You didn’t have to see him all the time to know this. It was something you grappled with yourself.
Living in a place where everyone was beautiful, where men were bulging with muscles and women were as slender as new trees beginning to sprout from the earth, it had done a lot of damage to your self-image. You’d never fit into that category of classic Asgardian stature. You had a waist that, you thought, looked more like a beer barrel than an hourglass, and hips that were wide enough to hold a ship between them.
Your parents had always told you they loved you, that you were beautiful no matter what, but it didn’t matter. You had mirrors surrounding you every day on Asgard, as it was part of the natural and traditional decor. Images of your less-than-satisfactory self followed you for your entire life, so they were naturally the first thing to be left out of your new house in New Asgard. You were more focused on the other aspects of your health, and, in turn, that of your king’s.
You weren’t sure exactly what he saw in your, but you two had become rather close friends. He smiled when you were around, and though it still didn’t reach his eyes, you were happy that he at least tried. Tried to remember what it was like to be truly happy before all of this.
You knew he was far from completely healing from the ordeal(it was evident from all the weight he’d gained), but it gave you a sense of relief when he smiled at you, or when he reflected happily on a memory from his past life, whether it was about his mother, Frigga, or his brother, Loki, or his earthen friends, the Avengers.
But there was one night, one night in particular, that shocked you to your core and squeezed your heart, causing it to splinter.
After reading late into the night, you let the rain on the roof of your hut lull you to sleep, sending off a bittersweet prayer to your parents and friends that you’d lost. Nothing was heard in response other than the quiet rhythm of raindrops on the earth, but you hoped they still heard you, wherever they were. Now that you weren’t on Asgard, you weren’t quite sure where the dead went. You hoped that they were all in Valhalla, enjoying the afterlife as much as they could.
Just as you were about to drift off into a dreamless sleep, you heard a booming knock on your door that threatened to shake the entire world with the sheer force of it.
Groaning, you threw the covers off of you and stood up, shivering at the sudden change in temperature as the chilly, rainy air kissed your body, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Even in your tired state, you grabbed a robe to throw over your body; you hated when people saw you in your pajamas. It was like they could see every curve, every part about yourself that you hated. So you hid it from the world under your robes.
When you opened the door, you stared up at Korg, the blue creature made of rocks that towered over anyone who stood before him.
“Gods, don’t you have an internal clock or something?” You rubbed the palm of your hand against your eye in an effort to rub the fatigue out of them and look clearly up at him. “Wait, what’s wrong?” You asked when you looked again, seeing the blatant concern in his dark eyes.
“Y/N, man, you have to come over, now! Thor’s having a breakdown, man, it’s really bad this time! He won’t listen to me, and Miek’s too scared to talk, and I don’t know what to do, man! I mean, you’re pretty much the only other person he’ll talk to, so I came here, and—”
Immediately, the sleep left your eyes and you tightened your grasp on your robe. Suddenly you didn’t think the rain was any kind of coincidence. “Take me to him.”
You barely felt the rain against your skin, soaking your clothes, as you ran through the muddy, makeshift roads to the king’s hut. You’d heard of Thor’s panic attacks before. Sometimes thunder would crack so loud that you had to cover your ears, and other times the lightning would flash so bright that you were afraid it would impair your vision. But you’d never been witness to one of them. That was the one part of himself that Thor had never shown you.
When you arrived at the king’s hut, you rushed in but your feet froze in place as you took in the wreckage around you.
The floors were littered with beer bottles, some broken in anger, others tossed around on the couch and forgotten. The bookshelves that had once been filled to the brim with Asgardian and Earthen texts alike were now empty, books haphazardly thrown about in the room. The curtains had been torn off of the walls in a wave of fury. There was hardly any space to walk. Miek, upon seeing Korg return, launched himself into his friend’s arms and clung to him in the wake of all this destruction.
And in the center of it all, arms wrapped around his legs in the fetal position, rocking back and forth, was Thor, the mighty king of Asgard.
It nearly tore your heart in two to see him like this. You carefully stepped forward, calling out to the man as he sat there, his head tucked into his chest and hidden from view. As you got closer, you could hear his labored breathing, quick and panicked. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t calm down.
“Thor?” You gently called out, though your voice was nothing compared to the raging storm going on outside. “Hey, buddy, can you hear me?”
He didn’t move, just kept rocking back and forth. You could hear him start to whisper things, whispers that eventually turned into an anguished whimper that fell from his beautiful lips.
You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he startled, kicked out at you and looking at you with such fury and fear in his eyes that you nearly felt a punch to your gut. “Thor,” you said, concern lining your voice, “breathe.”
Thor, the warrior king that had led his people to this new place, the man that was worthy above all others, just looked at you with his empty eyes and shook his head. “I—I can’t,” he forced out between gasps of breath. “He...he ruined me, he killed my brother, made him into something he wasn’t. Loki was good, he was never those things they called him. I…” He trailed off as a gulping wave of tears took over, and he shook underneath your palm as he squeezed his legs tighter to his large chest. “I made a vow...to avenge him. I promised him. And I...I failed. I failed everyone.”
You wanted to tell him that he hadn’t failed anyone, that he was still worthy, that he was still the greatest man you’d ever known. But you knew that to tell him those things would only feel like a betrayal. He wouldn’t believe it if you told him. He had to learn those things on his own.
So you adjusted your position beside him and wrapped your arms around your friend, enveloping him in your arms. He still shook underneath your touch, so you squeezed him tighter, hoping your words would sink into his bones. I’m here. I’m here, and I’m not leaving.
You weren’t sure how long you stayed like this, your chin tucked into the crook of his neck, cheeks tickled by his long and unkempt hair, but you ignored the way your legs went numb, the way your muscles fatigued from holding him so close for so long. It was only when he stopped shaking and started to breathe deeper that you loosened your grip.
“I...I don’t know what to do, Y/N,” he whispered to you. “I’m lost.”
Picking up your head and brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes, you made sure to look him dead in the eye as you said, “I’ve got you.”
The tears shone in his eyes, but he nodded, swallowing roughly. The worst of it was over, but you knew he was still fragile. So you stood up, stretching your legs, and pulled him up with you. The god of thunder was even heavier with all the beer weight, so it was a blessing when he realized what you were trying to do and helped you pull him up.
One glance at Korg and Miek let them know that you would take care of him, and you were met with a thankful and enthusiastic thumbs up as the two creatures gingerly found their way back to their own rooms. As for you and Thor, you let him drape his arm around your shoulder, leaning into you as you led him to his room.
Thankfully the damage had only been done to the living room. You had a clear and open path to the bed, which you carefully sat him down on, smiling softly as his eyelids fluttered closed.
“I’ll be here first thing tomorrow,” you promised him, pressing your lips to the top of his head in a sweet kiss. “Sleep well, my king.”
You turned to leave, but he reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, eyes clouded with hope, “Stay with me?”
He’d never looked so worn out. You decided right then and there that if you ever got the chance to see the purple titan, that you’d blast him to Hel and never think twice about it. You’d give him what he deserved, for messing with your friend and king’s mind so carelessly.
It was a habit to turn him down, a habit that was manifested in your body, but the sadness in his eyes made you melt, and you nodded. He scooted to the other side of the bed, opening the covers for you to join him.
Taking a deep breath, you shed your robe and climbed into bed as quickly as you could, trying to hide your thinly-clothed body in your pajamas. “Is this okay?” You breathed, looking into the shiny depths of his eyes.
For a moment, Thor said nothing. He just stared at you. Then he lifted a hand and reached across the space between you and grasped your waist in his strong hand. He maneuvered himself closer, as close as he could until his plump chest was touching yours.
Bile rose in your throat as the king of Asgard touched the parts of you that you hated most. Rolling away from him, you turned your head to keep the tears from falling down your face in his view. How horribly poetic, you told yourself bitterly. I’m the one breaking down after helping Thor come back from his.
“Y/N, love, what is it?” Thor asked, his deep voice rumbling through your body. “Why do you turn away?”
You shook your head into the pillow, refusing to answer. You choked back a sob as you remembered what life was like back on Asgard, your childhood friends turning against you as you grew bigger, your classmates calling you names that cut deeper than you ever let them know. It was all coming back, all because Thor was looking for comfort. You were disgusted with yourself.
“I don’t deserve it,” you whispered. “Your gentle touch. I don’t deserve it.”
Thor shifted, moving closer to you so his chest pressed against your back. When you tried to move away again, getting treacherously close to the edge of the bed, he simply clamped an arm over your fluffy middle, holding you in place. “Nonsense,” he murmured in your ear, the word scraping down every piece of your body, every curve and crevice. “You are the most beautiful woman I have laid my eyes on.”
You let out a pitiful chuckle. “Don’t lie, Thor. It’s unbecoming.”
“Why would I lie?” He asked, his fingers beginning to rub soft circles into your pajama shirt that covered your stomach. “You are beautiful.”
“I’m hideous,” you breathed, years of pain and self-deprecation coming to light as you squeezed your eyes shut. “I don’t belong here. I don’t look like anyone else. Asgardians are supposed to be beautiful creatures that people can only picture in their most magical dreams. But me? I’m nothing like them.”
Thor chuckled lightly in your ear. “I would like to add that you look exactly like your king does.”
Turning around so you could face him, you sighed, the tears shining in your eyes. “You have good reason to, Thor. I have no reason to look as ugly as I do.”
“You are not ugly.” He spoke firmly and stared directly into your eyes, telling you that he would not budge.
Still, you didn’t believe him. “You,” you started, “you are a god. Nothing you can do will ever be considered ugly or revolting. You are a handsome man inside and out.”
“Then why can’t you feel the same?” He pondered aloud, lifting a hand to trace your cheek with his thumb. “Why can’t you see yourself the way I see you?”
It was a damn good question, you had to admit. You looked at Thor, at his beer belly and his scraggly appearance, and nothing ever changed in your mind. You still saw him as the most beautiful, rugged man you’d ever seen. But when it came to yourself, you found about a thousand things you could point out, bitterly telling yourself that you hated your stomach, you hated the way your neck only looked good at a certain angle, the way your arms lacked the spindly shape of all Asgardian women.
“Because,” you answered matter-of-factly, “I’m just me, and you’re you.”
“Y/N,” Thor responded, his voice a deep husky thing now, “you are extraordinary.”
You allowed yourself to savor the way his hand drifted from your cheek to your shoulder, down to your hand, coming to rest over your waist and pull you into his chest. “What are you doing to me?” You let the words slip out, failing to hold them back.
Thor looked at you with something that you couldn’t recognize. His eyes were wide, taking you in, holding you close to him. “You saved me,” he said simply, “so I’m saving you.”
A blush crept its way onto your face and you ducked your head. Slowly and carefully, you tucked yourself into Thor’s chest, lifting a leg and laying it over his waist similar to a koala bear. Though you probably looked ridiculous, you relished the way he responded to your movements. You were both tugging each other closer, so close that you supposed you probably wouldn’t be able to breathe, but you didn’t care.
You were broken, you both were. But this night, this moment, with him wrapped so close to you, his scent filling your nose, it felt right. Your chest felt a little lighter, and you could close your eyes easier. You were saving each other.
It wasn’t long before you felt sleep enveloping you, pulling you under to a place that you met with ease this time. But before you felt consciousness leave your body, you felt Thor’s lips press against your forehead in a sweet kiss. It was small, quick, and barely there, but it was enough to send fire through your body. Tilting your head up, you looked up into Thor’s eyes and smiled.
“You saved me,” he repeated. You knew the look in his eyes now, but your heart hiccuped as you recognized it. He leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. “So I’m saving you.”
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kaiba-fangirl · 5 years
Text
Fill in the questions/statement as if you are being interviewed for an article and you were your muse
Tag 10 people to do this meme, (repost, don’t reblog)
TAGGED BY: not @rogueprinceconsort =P & I know I’m not a RP blog, but I am a fanfic author so I still do the same kind of stuff, just everyone at once with chapters, so I’m sure ya won’t mind... idk itching to write Seto but his mind is all over the place in Ch7 of And You? (AO3/FFN), & I know I’ve missed a bunch of personal tags in the past, so, well, I’m here now. TAGGING: anyone 1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?
“Seto Kaiba.”  (海馬 瀬人 Kaiba, Seto)
2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME?
He narrows his eyes, already suspicious. “Legally, that IS my real name.”
3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU WERE CALLED THAT?
“I was born Seto,” he answers flatly, then smirks. “The Kaiba family name I earned for myself and my little brother at the age of 10, when Gozaburo agreed to adopt us thanks to my, superior negotiating skills.” [Seto after Egyptian Pharaoh Seth. Kaiba for, apparently, hippocampus/seahorse.]
4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN? “Taken. Happily married to the number 1 female duelist, Mai Valentine. She’s now heading the new Fashion Tech and Merchandise Department at Kaiba Corp.” [but he’s also still looking >.>]
5. HAVE ANY ABILITIES OR POWERS? “Just bleeding edge technology development and superior dueling skills,” he shrugs smugly. [and hacking.] [You also accidentally activate latent magical powers every so often, dumbass. Sure he’s a genius. A genius that weaves techno-sorcery into everything & commands gods without even knowing it.] “Anything else you may have heard about magic or spirits or real monsters, is all just nonsense hocus pocus. It’s sensationalists trying to make our amazingly life-like holographic projections seem dangerous.”
6. STOP BEING A MARY SUE/GARY STU. “Heh, doesn’t that just mean born talented? You should be so lucky.”
7. WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOR? “Blue,” he chuckles childishly. “It was probably what first drew me to, you know, Blue-Eyes, when I was young.” [It’s not. The Blue-Eyes White Dragon was his magical monster of light ‘girlfriend’ in Ancient Egypt in a past life of his 3000 years ago.]
8. HOW ABOUT YOUR HAIR COLOR? “Chestnut.”
9. HAVE YOU ANY FAMILY MEMBERS? “Living, my little brother, Mokuba, and now my lovely wife.”
10. OH? WHAT ABOUT PETS? “No pets. I barely have time for having two people in my life now it seems, and that’s even with Mokuba off travelling.” [any pet energy is expended on more Blue-Eyes White Dragon themed everything]
11. THAT’S COOL I GUESS, NOW TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE. “You wanna see a REAL Gary Stu?! As in, there is no reason he should have made it this far?! Joey fuckin Wheeler. This loser stole his way into my tournament, then has the nerve to even challenge me for 3rd place as if that meant anything, and he still ends up 4th even?! How! He operates on pure luck, and leeching off his ‘friends!’ His deck is a mess, I mean have you even seen his lineup?!?!” [Well that would all be redacted. Now, since this is for an interviewer for a published article...] He calmly and thoughtfully looks off at a spot on the far wall behind the interviewer. He purses his lips and furrows his brow, genuinely distraught, drawing from a direct encounter. “I’m actually more concerned than ever about the state of refugees- whether they have that official label or not. Around the world. Especially the children. These children don’t know what’s going on, and people say they care about children, but they really don’t. They’re not thinking of those kids- of refugee kids. Of poor kids. Of orphans or abused kids. And the way these refugees are being treated, those kids are getting hit with all those things at once. Ya know, I- I was fortunate enough to have that opportunity to be adopted, in a strong first-world nation, but I know what it’s like, to know that the grown ups are just using you, not listening to you. You’re nothing to them; maybe pawns. Now, I’m doing all I can, as president of Kaiba Corp, but there is still only so much we can do. We’re not making tanks or any weapons at all anymore-” He chokes at the thought of a tank staring him down specifically, compared to the latest news. He clears his throat to manage. “Not since the day I took over. We may not be contributing to that military industrial complex anymore, but the state of refugees today is still just as bad if not worse. Now they’re using weapons outlawed by the Geneva Conventions, and in countries that pride themselves on freedom and opportunity. Pteh. It’s madness. It’s evil.” [...aaand that just became the cover story] [We’ll be back after after a short break.]
12. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES YOU LIKE DOING? “Besides dueling, uh, tinkering. Reading. Hacking into random databases I shouldn’t be in.”
13. EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE? “Next question. Don’t even print that, or you’ll be hearing from my lawyers. And they don’t play so nice.” [By ‘lawyers’ I’m pretty sure he just means goons.]
14. EVER… KILLED ANYONE BEFORE? "No.” [Gozaburo.]
15. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU? "Dragon.”
16. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS. "Tch, I wouldn’t have gotten to be president of a multi-billion-dollar corporation if I had bad habits.”  [That is literally his worst habit. Also how he got there is because of all his bad habits.] He chuckles at what he’s about to make fun of. “Then again, some people think that working too much is a bad habit.”
17. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE AT ALL? "How could I when I’m already on top?”
18. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL? "Irrelevant.” He smiles menacingly. “Card games are more important anyway.” [Bi and trying to figure out how to tell his wife. Then again once he does that, the press will be easy. Possibly also grey ace or demi, since he does enjoy the physical aspects of being married & his crush.]
19. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL? “Graduated high school early and then went right back to work as CEO, at the time. I don’t have time to waste getting a piece of paper to validate my knowledge that I’m already putting to use at Kaiba Corp everyday. --but I certainly support everyone staying in school as long as they can. Kaiba Corp offers a free college tuition program for any employee, paid ahead of time, and schedules can be worked around class and homework time as needed.”
20. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS ONE DAY? “I never thought I would want to marry, but I have always assumed I would want to adopt. Now I am married, and we both want to adopt. Someday. It needs to be when I can have time for them...” [and he’s wondering why you are supposed to only marry one person...]
21. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANBOYS/FANGIRLS? “Yeah,” he laughs, genuinely embarrassed at this level of pure idolization, “I find it endearing to see people dress up as Yugi and I at events.”
22. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF? “Losing my little brother.”
23. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR? “Full-length pants, tight fitting turtlenecks, boots, and a trenchcoat. More leather and straps and buckles, the better.”
24. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE? “Of course. My little brother and my wife.” [and Joey]
25. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WET YOURSELF? [he just makes this face:]
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[but possibly the last time he did hard drugs]
26. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? (HIGH CLASS, MIDDLE CLASS, LOW CLASS) “Highest class.” He winks, for the spotlight.
27. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE? “I don’t need ‘friends’ outside of my family.”
28. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE? “Finally, an intelligent question!” he laughs rudely. “My thoughts are that we should change the standard approximation for π to something closer to 3.16. That’s what I use in my calculations, and I find things just seem to work out better for me because of it.”
29. FAVORITE DRINK? “I’ve started drinking a lot more water, and I think that’s pretty much all I drink lately.”
30. WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE? “It’s comforting being in my office, knowing where I belong, knowing that with me there, everyone I love is safe, knowing how I got there, and being proud of all I’ve accomplished, but...” [sometimes anxiety about it being Gozaburo’s old office creeps into his mind like an evil spirit or ghost...] “But more than that, I enjoy the wild freedom of just taking my Blue-Eyes jet out with some good music playing.” [oh my various gods he will always be an emo teen at heart <3]
31. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE? He scoffs. “Yes, I am genuinely interested in my wife. Mai is an amazing person. And- Ah, and, um, next question?” [and Joey!]
32. WHAT’S YOUR BRA CUP SIZE AND/OR HOW BIG IS YOUR WILLY? “What kind of magazine is this for, anyway?” he asks as an aside, then thinks up a ridiculous enough response. “Ever hear of Zorc? I’d say that’s roughly one-third the size of mine.” Under his breath, he scoffs in disgust. “Imbeciles.”
33. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN? “Er, a private pool, thanks. Too many paparazzi anyplace else, and I wouldn’t want to close off anything from the public.” [I hear there’s a river in Egypt he lives in though]
34. WHAT’S YOUR TYPE? “Independent. Strong. Great duelist. Someone who knows what it’s like at rock bottom, but still managed to claw their way to the top...” [he spaces out off to the side]
35. ANY FETISHES? *zoom out to room full of Blue-Eyes White Dragon themed EVERYTHING* “Nah.” [*insert Will Smith presenting his AO3 tags]
36. SEME OR UKE? TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE?
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[Switch! But “And You?” is stuck at a T rating, sooo...]
37. CAMPING OR INDOORS? "The fuck- you’re giving me whiplash with these questions,” he mutters. “Camping sounds nice. Real camping. Mokuba and I used to build forts and play outside a lot. I should ask him if he wants to go on a camping trip when he gets back. I doubt- well, no, I think Mai would like that, too.” [And Joey can cook them “candy bars!”]
38. ARE YOU WANTING THE QUIZ TO END?
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shreyamistry · 5 years
Text
Regrets And Tearful Goodbyes - (Kaitlyn Liao x MC)
Title: Regrets And Tearful Goodbyes (RATG)
Series: One Shot
Summary: Kaitlyn and Celeste reminisce about what was after the music video went live for Kaitlyn’s band. Celeste had moved on with Becca, and doesn’t know if she made the right choice anymore, and Kaitlyn has never stopped pining for the first girl she’s ever fallen in love... but reconciling isn’t as easy as it is in the movies. 
Warnings: angsty, a little sad, and kaitlyn’s hella sad so if sad kaitlyn makes you sad then maybe this isn’t for you lmao
Pairings: past Kaitlyn x MC, present Becca x MC
Tagging: @kennaxval (my favorite Kaitlyn stan! hope you can enjoy this sad piece haha)
A/N: I wrote this when I finally read that one chapter it happened in, but i read it a week late and then it took me a week to finally write this bc life, but this is set during The Senior chapter 9 maybe idk anymore lmao
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Kaitlyn stares over the railing, her elbows resting on the metal bar. All of her dreams were coming true, they finished their first music video and reviews were nothing short of positive. Yet why did her heart feel heavy in her chest looking at her ‘best friend’ standing beside her?
Celeste’s face was bright, Kaitlyn couldn’t remember a time she didn’t see the glow on Celeste’s skin. Scratch that she could. When they broke up. Even with everything going on freshman year, she could always remember the way her eyes fell to the floor, the glow that dulled because of her. Hindsight, Kaitlyn thinks to herself, if only she would have realized it sooner that she was going to lose Celeste.
She was a bad girlfriend and lost the only girl she’s ever loved. She tried it with Annisa, but that fizzled out and she was grateful, would be best for the band if they didn’t catch feelings for each other. But Annisa wasn’t Celeste, she didn’t smile the same way, laugh at her jokes the same way, or love her the same way. She wondered why love felt so hard? Was it because she was a lesbian or was love in general just dumb and hard? She looks at her hands resting on the railing, her fingertips slightly pink from practicing without a pick earlier. Bruised... She thinks to herself her mind instantly making her think of Celeste’s sobs as she broke up with her, she hates to think about the fact she left Celeste bruised and hurt.
She nudges Celeste with her shoulder looking over at her with a caring smile. “Hey...you over there. You just got awfully quiet.” Celeste nods in response letting out a sigh, her facial features transitioning into a pensive thoughtful look. Kaitlyn waits a few seconds before broaching the subject again. “Is something wrong?” Kaitlyn hates the pensive look on Celeste’s face. She loved her too much to stop worrying about her, to stop involving her in her life as though she still was, she just wanted to wrap her arms around Celeste, pepper her with kisses, and reassure her, but she can’t.
Becca does that now.
Becca does everything for her now, that Kaitlyn wished she still did for her.
“No, I mean not really. I got up in my head about Senior year when you wrote, ‘I’ll miss you, Hartfield.’” Kaitlyn notes the sadness in her voice, she couldn’t quite place why it felt more than just the end of Hartfield.
But even so, she wanted to comfort her. Senior Year isn’t over yet. “Oh… I meant while I’m on tour, but yeah, I’ll miss it when I graduate, too.” I’ll miss you more.
Celeste sighs wrapping an arm around Kaitlyn using her for support, letting her head fall on Kaitlyn’s shoulder. Kaitlyn holds her breath, you’re just friends, she reminds herself. “I just wonder is everyone drifting apart?”
And it finally made sense to her now, why Celeste was acting so out of the blue sad and broken down. The end of Hartfeld meant so much more, the place they fell in love they had to finally say goodbye to. The place she fell in love with Becca at as well. She never would’ve thought the first night in the suite was the beginning of the end, could she really lose everything her and her friends fought for and worked towards? What're four years of everything they’ve all been through if they stop talking. Kaitlyn didn’t think they’d fall apart, but all roses have their thorns.
“I mean, I don’t know.” And Kaitlyn didn’t know. Everyone was moving on with their life, it happens after college. Her smile falters, she finally has to let Celeste go sooner or later, there’s no way they can stay together when they’re just friends. “I wasn’t planning on going back to Austin, per se.”
“Yeah, but sooner or later, it happens to everyone. We all want to be next door neighbors, but I don’t know.” And the look crosses her face again and Kaitlyn’s heart skips a beat as she looks up to meet Kaitlyn’s eyes. An unspoken sadness settling between them for a moment before Celeste continues. “Becca’s thinking about going into criminal law, and transferring all the way to Howg University in California.”
Becca.
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Becca loves you.” The words leave Kaitlyn’s lips happily, but they sound even more bitter in her mouth to herself. She loves Becca and Becca loves her. And Kaitlyn loves her band… that’s how things were now, there was no more Kaitlyn loves Celeste and Celeste loves Kaitlyn. “That’s so freakin’ obvious.”
“Yeah,” Celeste says sadly, “Do you ever wonder…” Celeste stops herself before she can finish the statement. And Kaitlyn knows exactly what she means. How could she not? How do you tell someone you’ve never let go that every day you wake up and wonder what could’ve been… what might’ve been if she was a better person? She never would forgive herself for everything she put Celeste through, but god would she do everything in her power to be someone that Celeste could count on again if she ever wanted.
“Every day,” Kaitlyn answers staring straight ahead at the band and Abbie talking in the lounge eating the remainder of the pizza. “Every fucking day, Celeste.” Kaitlyn doesn’t know why she says it, why she admits… but she does it anyway.
“Sometimes... I wonder if I made the wrong choice.” Celeste admits, unwrapping herself from Kaitlyn’s arm. Kaitlyn misses the contact instantly, but doesn’t will herself to look at Celeste, she doesn’t want her to see the tears in her eyes. “That maybe… you were the one.”
Kaitlyn’s heart jumps into her throat.
“Don’t go saying things like that Celeste,” Kaitlyn whispers brushing the back of her hand against her eye. “You love Becca.”
“I love Becca,” Celeste repeats after her, the words sounding more forced than Kaitlyn has ever heard her say before. “You’re right. Becca helped me through everything you and I went through.”
She couldn’t deny that. “Yeah,” Kaitlyn whispers. Becca was everything Celeste needed, Kaitlyn knew that. She helped Becca, she changed Becca and herself. And Becca helped her. They were practically made for each other if Kaitlyn didn’t know the truth. The doubt. You never doubt the people you love, but then again… Celeste doubted her not that long ago.
“I should go… thank you, Kaitlyn.”
She didn’t want Celeste to go, but who was she to stop her? Becca won. At the end of the day, she made her choice and drove Celeste into Becca’s arms whether intentional or not, Kaitlyn knew she had to live with it. Her mouth and lips felt dry the feelings settling into her chest, threading through her heart like a vine. Wounds that should already be healed, still left her gutted knowing it was her fault and her fault alone. She never understood how people drove people away in movies or TV, but she did it. She drove Celeste so far away… She glances back to Celeste tears stinging her eyes as she takes a steady breath.
“For what it’s worth, Kait...” Celeste stops at the top of the stairs turning to look at her, brushing a strand of hair behind her own ear, a tinge of a blush decorating her cheeks as she ponders her words for a brief few seconds. “I really did love you, Kaitlyn, I honestly thought we’d be together forever. I know this is a shit closure, but it’s about time, right? Kaitlyn Liao you’re going to make a girl so happy one day, and she’s going to love you back and you deserve it.” Kaitlyn forced a sad smile waving goodbye to her ex-girlfriend and best friend. She watches her make her way to the exit and she never sees her turn around…
Closure is bullshit, Kaitlyn thinks to herself kicking over her drink in a huff of anger leaving the discarded cup on the floor speeding down the stairs with her hands shoved into her pocket, letting a forced smile take over her face approaching her bandmates. If only she had the courage to go after Celeste. She shakes her head falling down next to Abbie making herself laugh at the joke that Rachel makes to the group
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katsitting · 6 years
Note
17&63? This could turn out to be shit if it’s in i.e ww2 or smth idk you’re the writer xx
War AU +  Everybody Knows/Mistaken for Couple.
I don’t know what you want me to do here, but let’s see what my brain decides. You also didn’t give me a ship, so let’s simply defer to tomarry.
Warnings: Corpses, Blood, Unhealthy relationships, and standard war themes.
Everyone knew. 
The stares at the back of Harry’s head, pitying and upset in equal measure, telling of this point.
He hadn’t wanted this, but this was the reality of a world where the government as they knew it painted a target on their backs. No one was safe. The rebels were being picked off one by one, a spy within their ranks feeding information to the opposing side.
No one could be trusted. There was no such thing as friends, not when everyone simply aimed to survive.
But how did Harry fit in in all this? How was he caught between two beasts in this war?
Simple. He’d fallen in love with the wrong man. 
He fell prey to a monster that hid behind the face of a sweet and earnest man. A man that had never experienced love, that had never experienced warmth, or true friendship. 
Harry had wanted to give that to him, to show him before it became too late, before he was beyond saving.
And now, he was paying the price. The leader on the other side of a war that he had never wanted to fight. He didn’t want to be the leader, to give the command that would snuff out the life of a man he should hate, but couldn’t. Even betrayed as he was, he never could manage to stamp out the goodness in his heart.
So perhaps, the more stubborn in his ranks were right in mistrusting him. They were right in avoiding him when they could, giving him a wide berth when he stepped into the tents to gather his supplies before a raid. 
There was much doubt if he himself, given the opportunity, would be able to lay the killing blow, and they were right to feel this way. Harry too had his doubts, his heart ached with each whisper of Tom’s name--or the stupid title he’d given himself before he’d turned on Harry.
Still, Voldemort--Harry’s heart tried not to burst from just even the mention of such a name--had to be stopped. He couldn’t let this war go on with hundreds--if not thousands--of casualties on both sides.
No one was safe. Not the soldiers, not the generals, not the civilians, not the children, not the animals, not this world.
Everything was burning, and Harry wondered if it wasn’t too late to put out these flames. After all, there was simply no going back for him, not when he loved a monster, not when he still fucking hesitated, to put a bullet between the man’s eyes each time his gun was pressed against Tom’s--no, no, no, that’s not Tom, and you know it, he’s Voldemort, say his name you coward--temple.
“Harry.” 
A soft breath escaped him at the sound of Hermione’s familiar drawl. It was low, nearly a whisper. It was a miracle he had even heard it with the storm raging outside the tent and the shouts ringing in the night. 
There was no pause button when it came to war, only action, even when the sun has long since set, when this should be the time for rest.
But the wicked don’t rest. Don’t you know that, Harry? With how often Tom kept you up into the late hours of the--
Harry stamped out the thought before it was finished, casting Hermione a wary glance.
There was a furrow between Hermione’s brows that not even the tight ponytail restraining her riotous curls could eliminate. It was incredible just how much a person aged when caught in the cogs of war.
“We’ve found a body. I think you should take a look at it.” Hermione’s eyes were brilliant, like they’d bottled fire within their depths. 
The fact that she had come in Ron’s stead to deliver this message was bad enough. Ron was shite at delivering bad news, always caught between an angry bellow and cry when a soldier was killed in battle. Many spoke terribly about him for that, but Harry found it comforting. It was good that there were still people capable of empathy, capable of mourning without the decay of listlessness and ennui buzzing in the back of their heads.
“That bad?” Harry asked, throwing on a rain parka made to protect him from the rough elements outside. It wasn’t raining now, but it would be soon. There was something about England that attracted such horrid weather, even a good hundred miles away from civilization. 
“You’ll see,” was all Hermione said before crouching out of the flap in the tent. Harry followed after her, keeping a good pace with her brusque path through the shrubbery of the forest floor. 
It wasn’t far, but it was always wise to prepare as if one were going to head further out than was planned. It was this caution that had saved his neck many times. The recklessness of his youth, the brashness, and brazenness of his actions would do nothing but fan the flames of war. It was because of that recklessness that he had even met Tom in the first place, that he had stumbled into his bed and became caught in one of the many masks of a monstrosity.
When Hermione finally stopped, Harry did too. The stench of something vile swarmed him, and Harry swallowed down the bile and his disgust. Someone was dead alright, and had been for some time.
“Look.”
Harry stepped around Hermione and stopped dead in his tracks. Grief overtook him, his spine nearly bowing from the weight of it as he took in the terrified face of one of his soldiers. It had been the youngest amongst his recruits, a simple man that had wanted to do his part.
At first, Harry had found his energy and hero worship irritating, undeserving in fact. He was no hero. He hadn’t been for a long time, not since he--
“Colin.” The name fell easily from his tongue, burning its way up from the pit of his stomach and up his esophagus. Harry wanted nothing more than to shoot back cheap whiskey to mask the bitter pang of sorrow.
“Shit.” A hand made its way to his shoulder, its warmth penetrating the thick parka and the layers of clothes beneath it.
“There’s more.” Harry raked his fingers through his hair, already dreading what would come next. The fact that Hermione had not outright said anything, but waited for him to compose himself before doing so spoke volumes.
“We found a message on his body when we found him. It’s for you.”
Swallowing hard, Harry moved without being told to do so. Hermione pulled something from out of her pocket, handing it out to him.
He shifted his gaze away from it, taking it from her hand, hating the look of apology in her gaze. This wasn’t good.
“I’ll leave you alone. Travers, Lee, head out. We need to see if the rest of the men that left with Ceevy are here.”
With that, the men stood to attention and dove into the shadows. They didn’t turn to look at him, but he could feel their judgment. Nothing could hide that, could erase it. This was how it always went, who he was to his men.
Hermione was the last to leave, a sad smile twisting up her face between she turned and left, leaving him alone with Collin’s cold body and the creatures buzzing in the night.
Taking a slow breath, Harry opened his hand revealing a folded piece of paper. It was thick, a familiar scent wafting through his nose.
It was Tom’s. Harry could never forget it.
All the nights of them in bed, Tom’s sweat-slicked hair and his neck beneath his tongue, bitter and sweet with his cologne. It made his throat tightened, a burning sensation creeping up his nose.
Steeling himself, Harry opened the note and began to read.
Dearest Harry, I hope you are doing well for yourself. Every day I find myself wondering when you will cease this pretense of caring for others and realize where it is that you truly belong: at my side. After all, I am only doing as you asked. To change this world, one must raze it to the ground and start again. You know this. This world is beyond saving.
Tears burned in his eyes, but Harry refused to let them fall. His fingers tightened on the edges of the paper, threatening to tear the fancy parchment in half. 
I still recall the taste of your lips against mine, dream of your fingers knitted between mine after an evening of lovemaking. I remember how much you enjoyed it, adored the warmth of my skin pressed against yours. You were never shy about your admiration of me, just as I was not afraid of my adoration for you.
Harry wanted to laugh, then. Tom loved no one, save for himself. He was incapable of it. These were just pretty words to bring him over, to play with his emotions as they often were. It was what he did whenever he knew he did something wrong, whenever he had hurt Harry in some unfathomable way and wanted to ease the sting.
The question was just what was Tom apologizing for? He’d never apologized for this war, never gone out of this way to write some pretty words and leave them with the fallen in battle. Tom reserved his words for special occasions.
Anxiety twisted his belly into knots, and Harry dove right back to Tom’s message, knowing that there was something terrible to come.
But this is not why I write to you now. You know the extent of my affections for you, although you undoubtedly question its sincerity. Harry, if you are in possession of my note, then you have perhaps found the body of one of your men. He was rather young to be involved in our war, it was almost a shame to see the light die in his eyes. I found it interesting that the last thing he said was your name, here I was certain that most of your men hated you--questioning whether you were truly on the side against my reign. Everyone knows who you are, Harry. Who and what you meant to me in my youth, who you had become in my eyes, and what you did to inspire me righting the wrongs in this world.
Harry scoffed. Tom was never altruistic. Had never been and never would be. He did nothing without expecting something in return. 
However, it seems that some have misconstrued the nature of our relationship. I have remedied this.
A shock of ice shot up his spine. It was certainly no secret that Tom and him had been an item once, but for Tom to go out of his way to tell others--
Friends, Harry? Hardly. We are so much more. And I hope that after you’ve received this message and the gift I have personally delivered to your tent, you will see that as well. Sincerest regards, Lord Voldemort.
Harry crumpled the letter in his hand, his realization fueling his movements.
He ran back to camp, fingers releasing his gun from its holster as he wove through the trees. He was familiar with the area, but Tom had promised an unwanted visitor. He was up to something, something between the spaces of the words that were more than the threat of exposing the more salacious nature of their relationship and murder.
A flash of light ahead of him nearly blinded him, and then he stopped, walking slowly through his camp with his gun now up and ready. It was quiet, the rustling trees and the sound of animals baying in the darkness the only interruptions to the quiet.
It made him nervous, a slow trickle of sweat gathering on the back of his neck when he saw no sign of any of his men on the camp.
He took slow and steady breaths with each careful step, counting the seconds in his head and listening for anything that broke the still air around him. 
This went on until he finally made it back to his tent, the flap wide open and lit. It was a white light, different from the yellow one standard in his camp. 
Grip tightening on the gun, Harry parted the fold with one hand while keeping a steady grip of his gun, and entered.
Harry nearly dropped his gun. 
There was blood everywhere. It was smeared on the cloth, on his desk, on his bed. There were dismembered arms shaped into the symbol of a heart. 
Bile rose up his esophagus, but he didn’t throw up even when he wanted nothing more than to do just that. 
Because for all the macabre in his tent, the most terrifying thing was not the arms or the blood splattered all over his tent, it was the single chair at the center of the heart with a bouquet of flowers sitting innocently atop it.
There was a note over the top of the flowers, but Harry didn’t need to read them to know this was all Tom’s doing, that the bodies in his tent were the missing men from Collin’s group.
A breath stuttered from his mouth and he dropped his gun. There was no threat here. Tom wouldn’t come out this entire way just to see him, just to make him squirm.
He reholstered his gun and walked toward the flowers, narrowing avoiding the arms with a precise step over them. 
He didn’t want to touch them more than he needed to. Death didn’t unsettle him the way that it used to, but still, that did not mean he welcomed it either.
He pulled the single note out, small and bright. The same powdery blue as the flowers atop the chair.
I hope you enjoy the flowers. Love, Tom Marvolo Riddle. The man you have always known.
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thesunnyshow · 4 years
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Name: Emmy
Writing Blog URL(s): @pastelsicheng​
What fandom(s) do you write for?: NCT
Age: 19
Nationality: Canadian
Languages: fluent-ish in English, French, Urdu, Hindi, Pujarati, Punjabi, Arabic (listed in order from languages I can speak/read/write in, to languages I can't write/read/speak but can understand)
Star Sign: Aries
MBTI: INFP-T
Favorite color: I like most colours but I always just say purple 
Favorite food: Khow Suey. Idk how to describe it in English but it’s like noodles that you mix with like thick yellow curry and chicken tarkari, and you can put fried onions on top and what I call samosa crumbs (basically the crunchy dough you use for samosas, it’s like the dough fried alone and you just crush it and put it on top), and I add a bit of ketchup too cause its noodles and it's so good
Favorite ice cream flavor: Cookies and cream, or just basic french vanilla
Favorite animal: I love most of them hahah but I will say elephants
Coffee or tea? What are you ordering?: Coffee most likely but I love tea more
Dream job (whether you have a job or not): Open my own cafe
If you could have one superpower, what would you choose?: Control time
If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you?: No thank you I don't want to live through this again
Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken?: 100 chicken-sized horses because I heard chickens eat people so uhhh no thanks 
If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been?: The overachieving nerd/student council president. That’s literally what I was
Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures?: Yes. Aliens and ghosts and demons, they’re all real. Not fairies and vampires and werewolves tho. 
Do you have a role model? If so, who?: There’s definitely people I look up to and try to learn from for various things, but I don’t think I have like one solid role model
Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know?: I used to be a tomboy when I was a kid, and probably still am deep inside
When did you post your first piece? 
January 2020
Why did you start writing on Tumblr? 
I found it easier to gain feedback and find an audience of readers on Tumblr, plus the site was just easier for me to navigate compared to like Wattpad
Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? 
I write anything I feel like writing, and am open to trying new stuff. I just won’t write smut. I don’t feel comfortable writing or reading it
Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc?
I write x readers
Who is your favorite person to write about?
I don’t have a favourite person, mainly because I pick people based on who I think would fit a certain concept best. I guess my favourite would be y/n LOL because y/n is in every fic and I put myself into their character.
What inspires you to write?
I just like writing. I get a lot of ideas of stuff I want to write, and as a kid I wanted to be an author, but that obviously isn’t happening anytime soon so I just write fanfics. They’re easier to write because characters are already developed for you, and they don’t have a word limit to how long and short they need to be compared to actual OC fics
What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most?
Anything that relates to normal people, I enjoy writing. I like to insert my own experiences and thoughts in my stories so I write scenarios that I can imagine myself in or things I’ve experienced already, stuff like that
What do you hope your readers take away from your work?
I just want them to enjoy what I write. I’d like for my fics to be memorable, but idk if they are lol
What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively?
I just don’t write. It’s bad but I don’t want to write something that I don’t like so I don’t force myself to write when I don’t feel like it. If it takes me months to get out of that rough spot, then oh well. I don’t want to force myself to do anything that would make me hate writing, since it's one of the only few hobbies of mine.
What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful?
Most successful is murder replay. My favourite is an unreleased fic that I’m still working on. It’s pretty self-indulgent, and I talk about internal conflict with sexuality and not knowing what you really want, alongside being insecure and having mental illnesses. It’s angsty but it’s one of my favourites because of how much of myself I’ve poured into it
Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? 
It’s the same. Aside from the character being a real life person, fanfiction is the exact same as prose because it’s completely original ideas and thoughts, completely original sentences, and in general just the exact same as original prose. There’s like no difference.
What do you think makes a good story?
A writer who enjoys what they’re doing. It doesn’t matter your skill level or your language skills, or whatever. If you are passionate about what you write, then it will be evident in the story, and it will be a great story. There’s other things like the story idea and genre, but that’s all dependent on the reader. What I think makes a good story is different from what someone else thinks makes a good story. But in general, it’s the author that makes it good. You can tell if the writer really liked what they were doing, or if they were just writing for the sake of throwing words on a document and then calling it a day.
What is your writing process like?
Get an idea. Make a doc with that idea. Either immediately try and develop details, or leave the idea as is for months, maybe years. After developing the details, write the beginning of the fic, a few scenes I really liked, and then call it a day and never open the document for a few months again lol. Then I wait until I’m in the mood to write for that specific fic, and then I will write as much as I can. Finishing fics is a struggle, I’ve yet to finish my longer ones lol. I have a terrible writing process. The only way I really finish is if I already told my followers i will post it and theyre all waiting for it. Then I feel bad leaving people hanging and so it motivates me to finish. But yeah once I actually finish it, I throw it into grammarly and some other editors, fix stuff up, and publish.
Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story?
Doubt it. Once I’m done with a fic, I’m done. I don’t really want to go back and change anything. Even the longer fics that I love, I get sick of them and so I just dont want to touch them once they're done.
What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand?
I’m a huge sucker for childhood best friends to lovers lol. I have gushed about this on my blog a few times. Just the fact that you know someone for that long, and even been through arguments and times of not talking to each other, just to still come back to each other, thats real love even if its platonic. I’m just a sucker for that stuff. I also really enjoy anything that I, as a normal person, can relate to so high school AUs, college AUs, platonic AUs, anything real life based. There’s no tropes that I can’t stand, just tropes I don’t find interest in or don’t read much.
How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? 
Depends on how long i took to write the fic. If it’s a short piece ranging between a few hundred words to maybe a couple thousand words then I don’t really care much because chances are I didn’t take long to write it. My pieces that are longer than 5k, I care about because those are usually the ones more close to my heart, and the ones I spent way more time than necessary working on. Even just one reader telling me they enjoyed my story makes my day 
What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)?
I know murder replay which is my current biggest story blew up, and I feel like part of it was because of the frequent updating I did. I kept a schedule and made sure to stick with it, even changing parts of the story to fit feedback from readers. Consistency was definitely key, and also engaging with readers. Replying to all their reblogs even if it was just tags they added, constantly expressing how grateful I am, stuff like that because it makes people feel that they’re validated as well. And I guess the general idea/trope of the fic was interesting to people too
Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged?
Yeah lol. It’s definitely something I hide from everyone I know in real life because I dont want to be looked down on. 
Do you think art can be a medium for change?
Yes!! Art defies boundaries set by language, especially visual art. Stories are a good way to express things to people who don’t understand why something is the way it is, it’s literally what has been done by humans since the start of time. We pass down stories explaining things. 
Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself?
Yeah, sometimes when I felt really burnt out, I felt I had to post an update or something just so that my followers got what they kinda signed up for when they followed me. It was partially just the pressure I put onto myself I guess because my followers are always supportive and understanding when I say I cant post an update. I’d also say in general there’s a part of me that wants to write for others too. I would be lying if I said I only write for myself because that’s not true. The whole reason I write and post is because I want some reader interaction and feedback, and if I truly did only write for myself I wouldn’t be posting.
Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times? 
Not yet! And I hope I don’t have to experience that lol
Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr?
Nope. No one does. It’s something I wanna keep to myself. Even some of my other internet friends don’t know.
What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers?
I purposely send a bunch of messages because I feel bad leaving people on read so I just keep sending hearts and stuff to express my love but also just so that you can end the convo when you feel like.
Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there?
Go for it! It might be scary to get criticism, but I promise there are way more nice people on Tumblr than there are mean people. In fact I haven’t even interacted or met with a mean anon or person on here yet. Also the only way to really start is to go for it. I get anxious too every time I post something, even now, and honestly its just a feeling ya know. Its just chemicals in your body. So don’t stress, and if you always need someone to boost your ego and promote your work you have me! 
Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? 
Nope
Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? 
The memorable ones are Mimu, Nini, Gwen, Philo, and Krystal who were supportive of murder replay. Also sunflower anon and peace sign anon, and recently Jo has been really supportive.
Pick a quote to end your interview with
“...the universe is basically like a machine. I don’t know who made it, if it was the Fates, or the gods, or capital-G God, or whatever. But it chugs along the way it’s supposed to most of the time. Sure, little pieces break and stuff goes haywire once in a while, but mostly . . . things happen for a reason.” Leo Valdez in The House of Hades (so technically Riordan lol)
BONUS: K-POP CONFIDENTIAL
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kaeyazuha · 2 years
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hello hello Ky! ♡♡
ofc! you're never a bother, if that's what you're worried about. it's okay to feel hurt, and It's more than okay to get it off your chest and seek comfort/support. you deserve it, and i'm glad you can open up, even if it's just a little. C:
and i'll try, thank you. i went outside and saw the sun for the first time in months today, so that's something.
nohooo, poor boy felt betrayed by zhongli and the traveler (at first at least) and now it's his own deity ? get behind me fatooey-harbinger-codename-childe >:'(
okay, so. let's make some happy theories - i know it's hard with genshin, but hear me out - so that they'll come true and everyone reconciles and gets better ? but on a more serious note, do you have any theory about dain, kaeya's identity and khaenri'ah ? or anything tbh, i'll take it all
hohoho that remind me of when venti got drunk and poured wine all over morax's head at a god-reunion (??). he chose the wrong archon to mess with and it's so funny. but, he really fits the theme of "freedom" and that's good. we needed venti to be created by mhy, the world is a better place now.
welllll,,, there are rumors about a scaramouche boss fight in sumeru, so we might finally get some information about this little guy ? just crumbs would be enough tbh.
haha, i'm just really afraid my asks might not make sense. are they readable enough ? maybe i should add a " • " before every paragraph, if you want.
anyway, have a good weekend! hope you'll enjoy it Ky! rest well, i love you too!! sending you lots of hugs and love!! ♡♡
- 🦊
you're so sweet istg- And that's great! A big step, if you ask me, I loathe going outside because of all the allergens rn </3
I doubt anything will happen to him...at least for another two or three updates...childe pls run that's plenty of time, we'll make sure nobody finds you--
I'll put this under the cut since it's kinda long HAHA-
EHE well, not really, actually. I feel that Kaeya is still masking a MAJOR part of himself. I mean come on; Khaenri'an, canonically really strong, mastered his vision in a day, but he's a starter 4-star character? No way. That and his passive, 20% reduced sprinting stamina, is called "hidden strength." Along with some of his stories and constellation names, it heavily hints to Kaeya hiding his real strength.
About Khaenri'ah, I don't have any major theories, but I do have a guess. If you compare the architecture from Enkanomiya, some areas in underground Inazuma (tsurumi, seirai, etc), and the Chasm's underground city, they all have the same architecture. I believe all these cities were connected in some way, like one massive nation with miniature cities. Khaenri'ah was just one of them, but it stood out because of Rhinedottier's screwing around with the Art of Khemia.
Though, it looks like they had different languages? Kinda like Liyue and Mondstadt, the writing looks similar, but it's clearly different. If you compare the random phrases around the chasm to the shape of Khaenri'ah's alphabet, it looks pretty similar. However, I can't translate any of the phrases in the Chasm since it's not in a known language. Except- the letter we get after getting nine orbs from the husks (THAT HAVE VERY CONCERNING BUT VERY COOL PHRASES), that's in Khaenri'an. And apparently? Each traveler- like you, me, random people- get a different line of the poem. Mihoyo is purposefully feeding the lore community bits and pieces idk if it's to tease or see if we can figure things out, but it's ANNOYING ME-
HOLD ON. HE DID WHAT? When? Venti you- I- no words, I can't defend him anymore. And yeah, I heard about that- boss fight likely means one of two things. He's dead, or we just beat him like Childe. I feel like this is gonna be a Signora and Sara situation. We figure out Childe's in danger, we go after Childe and he's pretty much dead, Traveler gets pissed and duels Scara, BUT whether he lives or dies, no idea. But with Scara likely means more gnosis lore, finally.
Your asks are structured perfectly, no worries! I can read it just fine, but it's kind of you to ask <3
Have a nice day, my love, thanks for being here!
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