#and for non fandom ocs i have i struggle enough already with names to give them i'm not about to put that in my fandom experience lmao

[not-sure-what-im-feeling]

Okay, SO, there's this OC I've un-Warrior Cat-ifyed named Beetlepaw. He's awkward, angsty teen of a cat whose only real defining personality traits was that he liked bugs and didn't really like his peers. He was inspired by the song Boys Will Be Bug by Cavetown, but outside of that he didn’t really have much of an arc or an actual fleshed out personality and backstory. Looking back on it, I think this was because I was focused on playing within the preexisting world of Warrior Cats and the genre and tone it established, which basically meant that I didn’t have much flexibility to make Beetlepaw’s story one that actually complimented his character.

Now that I’ve decided to distance myself from the fandom, I realized while in the shower that a lot of my Warrior Cat OCs’ core personality, backstory, and ambitions could be easily distanced from Warrior Cats itself, and that with this idea of removing the Warrior Cats from the Warrior Cats OCs, Beetlepaw’s simplicity actually gave me an awesome opportunity. No longer is Beetlepaw a feral cat living in the woods, instead he’s a human superhero named Bee, living in a world where superheroes are a known phenomenon. His powers are centered around his ability to influence bugs, and even inherit certain characteristics of them, such as being able to scuttle up walls with just his hands and feet. However, his power is generally seen as weak when compared to the more flashy and dramatic abilities of his peers, meaning he often ends up getting bullied for his supposed weakness. It doesn’t help that he’s physically a bit smaller than the other boys his age, especially thanks to him being a pre-T trans man already struggling to earn a sliver of respect as a man.

Now, the way I’ve decided that his universe kind of works so far is that while superheroes are a known phenomenon, the vast majority of the population doesn’t have these sorts of abilities. Therefore, society has kind of reasoned that there isn’t much need for fancy smancy superhero schools, outside of those meant for the select few who truly show promise, so those with powers are usually just enrolled in an additional program after school where they train and learn to be proper heroes and also not blow stuff up. Seen as Bee’s power isn’t seen as that powerful in general, he wasn’t lucky enough to get into the all-superhero school in the area, so he’s stuck being bullied by his non-hero classmates during highschool, AND being bullied by his powered-up peers during the superhero education program after school.

This poor treatment by his peers gives Bee a desperation to prove himself, a dislike for the kids his age, and an anger at the adults who look down on him for simply not being very promising, combined with a niiice little pinch of self-loathing. This story more easily communicates what I was trying to get to with his character arc that I just couldn’t when he was relegated to being a Warrior Cats OC, that being that his arc is basically him learning that he doesn’t have to act tough and strong just to prove his worth, not as a hero and certainly not as a man.

The "daddy issues" part of his character comes in with his struggle to prove himself to be tough enough to be a "real man", as his idea of manliness is heavily influenced by his perception of his father, who I have yet to name. I'm thinking that his father has a stronger power than Bee's, something that earns him far more respect as a real hero that his son doesn't get. His father is strong, confident, and fearless, though he also doesn't show much of any signs of affection towards his son and he makes a deliberate effort to show no emotions besides a stoic sternness. Additionally, his confidence can often manifest as him viciously insulting the people around him, especially if they're someone he deems as slightly abnormal, and he has a stubborn pride that makes him never admit to being wrong.

Bee looks at his father, looks at the ways he behaves and the respect he gains and assumes that his father is valued as a hero BECAUSE of the way he acts, and he sees so many other heroes his age act in similar ways and get treated with that same sort of respect. So, he assumes that that's simply how real heroes act, that to be a hero is to be brash, cocky, strong and to never show a bit of real emotion other than stoicism or anger, and he tries desperately to emulate this behaviour in hopes of earning respect.

Holy shit I love Bee and I am giving him so much comfort oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh

[elmaxlys]

13 and 15 :) ♡

13- list 5 OTPs from past fandoms

Jasico (Jason Grace x Nico di Angelo) from the Riordanverse. I still like the books even if I'm not up to date, but the fandom is pure garbage so I quit that part xD

Percabeth (Percy Jackson x Annabeth Chase), also from the Riordanverse. I couldn't not mention them

Cherik (Charles Xavier x Magneto) from X-Men. I've only seen the movies and was never involved with the fandom but I used to know all their scenes by heart

Oh there's all the KNB ones, I used to multiship like crazy. To this day I think it's the fandom I read the most fanfics for, maybe with HQ!! and EDEN. So the ones I have to mention here: Aida Riko x Hyuuga Junpei x Kiyoshi Teppei bro my first ot3 and the only of my KNB ships I never read a fic about I loved them so much and I'm sure if I rewatch it'd be the same

The different combinations of Kuroko Tetsuya x Kise Ryouta x Aomine Daiki x Kagami Taiga, also from KNB. Funnily enough, I don't like the 4 of them together, but the different match-ups of these 4 were all I was about haha! The time I awakened my multishipper soul..

15- Opinion on OC kids

They're not really my thing.

Pregnancy grosses me out majorly so I can't let my favs who haven't been through it in canon go through it in my head, you feel? I love omegaverse but really not for that aspect xD Adoption's better for that, to me, but still lol

The thing is, what I tend to like the most is the "pre-relationship" part, if that makes sense? Like, the pining, and how they got together, if at all. I don't often write or read about established relationships - let alone ones where's it's so established they have kids.

Also, like, when I want my OTPs who don't have kids in canon to be sort of parental figures, I just make them older siblings or parental figures of kids/younger characters that already exist in canon. For example in Tenkuu Shinpan, i have Yamajuoka as the big brothers of Haruka. Or also Rika as the big bro of Floor 9, or the other Guardian Angels as her stand-in parents. In Tokyo Ghoul, the Clowns toward Souta and Shikorae, esp Roma and Donato (not as a ship) as parents, the other as annoying big siblings.

This ended up longer than I thought rip I think the conclusion is that I'm all about found family and (somewhat) canonverse!

[tenduw]

How not to make a terrible Hetalia OC

Hi y’all, I feel like this really needs to be said, cause I was looking at different hetalia OCs the other day, and ngl many of them were, well, terrible.

First off, before I begin with my guide to making a decent oc, can I just say that any one of us can create an oc, in fact I would encourage people to. One problem with the hetalia fandom is that other than Scotland, Yugotalia and South America (somewhat) we haven’t really done our research when it comes to creating ocs and it really shows.

1)      Research – I do feel like some of you spend too much time looking at stereotypes of different countries and not enough time doing actual research. I am going to show you 2 different pictures here (Example 1 and 2 are below.) Notice the difference? Someone clearly researched into the issues faced by South Africa and decided on a way to come to a neutral outcome, whilst someone else didn’t do any research and decided that a White person was the best way to represent an entire population in Africa. Please research into the culture and history of the country when deciding to create the OC as if anything that would help you to try and understand the character you are attempting to draw or write. Also look at the hetalia tumblr or Instagram tag for the character as there might be an OC that you really like! I did so, and found really cool ocs by @disaster-fruit and @portu-cale! Then if this happens, there's already an oc you can see as the country! Just make sure to contact and credit the artist in any art you may produce.

2)      Ask -  Also remember that research doesn’t just apply to the internet! If you have a friend or some of your family members are from that country and have been there, then ask them about the culture! Not only that, but I’d suggest you also check out the country’s reddit, as there is a bunch of stuff you can find there which helps to gain a general understanding about what might actually be offensive and what won’t be. Also, I’d check out the tumblr tag for the country as well – really interesting facts about the country tend to come up.

3)      What you are creating the oc for – Are you creating an OC for a fanfiction or fanart? Depending on which one you are looking at then your research differs. Fanart requires you to be respectful towards the country, and obviously this is where most people in the fandom fall short – as you are literally drawing a representation of the country. Fanfiction in contrast tends to be more about characterisation, so rather than just make up a personality for the country, I would suggest that you read the history and facts about the country before creating a character for them. The thing about personified nations is that none of them are good or bad – they’re morally grey, so it’s important to do your research when deciding how exactly they are in this category. Patient Harmony on Fanfiction.net actually does this really well, and if you’re over 16 and are into the darker side of the fandom, I’d suggest checking them out!

4)      Think – Please think about what you are creating. This is most important when it comes to two areas – Colouring and Controversy. I’ll cover those in the next two points. Just remember to think before you create – what countries should I draw cutesy fanart for and which ones should I not draw it for? Also, think about the human names for the countries. You do have to look at names from the country you are creating an oc for – why the hell would Wales’ name be Victoria or Israel’s name Tal Haviv? Giving a oc of a nation an anglicised or Americanised name or making up a name because it sounds like the nation’s capital is just plain disrespectful. Also, please do research whatever name you do end up using as for example if Mexico was called Porfirio, you might not realise the problem with the name, but most Mexican fans of the show would. So do think about what you’re coming up with – And if something doesn’t feel right, then research it!

5)      Colouring – What skin tone are they? This seems to be the hardest thing for the hetalia fandom to comprehend and I can empathise to an extent. Of course, if the country is particularly diverse, such as Uganda then it will be somewhat challenging to come up with a skin tone for them. However completely whitewashing the country, like an ungodly amount of people have done with aph Mexico is ridiculous. Not everyone is white, in fact most people aren’t white – Just because you and your neighbourhood may be doesn’t mean that the entire world is! If you think that everyone is one skin tone then you need to get the hell out of whatever special rock you were living under. There are hundreds if not thousands of skin tones out there, and people do not either look like this: (is below) Or this: (is below) So if the OC you’re going to create is black, you don’t need to paint them the darkest shade of brown that you have. You also should avoid making them orange – If someone is from Africa, they are not orange! Likewise if someone is from Native America then don’t make their skin yellow! One thing in general that might help y’all out is if when creating your oc, you search on google images ‘X country people’ and see the results. JUST DON’T MAKE THE CHARACTER WHITE CAUSE YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.

Also, I don't know why someone created an entire south America oc, nor do I understand why people keep making statetalia ocs

6)      Controversy – Now this one is going to be kind of long, but it really needs to be addressed. Just because you’re creating ocs for hetalia doesn’t mean that ALL stereotypes about the country need to be the main thing about the oc. Stereotypes about Italians loving pasta or the English loving tea are NOT the same as Mexicans being fence hoppers or the entire continent of Africa being malnourished. Like I’ve said many times already, do your research. An important thing to note, is that most of these stereotypes were made by 1st world countries and so naturally the most offensive ones are about the ethnicities that struggle to get any form of positive representation in the media. Another thing that needs to be addressed – Would you make fanart about any recent terror attacks? No? Then don’t make ocs that would have solely come about as a result of a disastrous event (e.g. Chernobyl). Also, you have to be reaaalllly careful when it comes to quite a few nations. Like Yemen and Palestine. It just feels really insensitive to draw cutesy fanart when their people are being targeted and insensitivity already is a major problem with the fandom. It’s 2020, not 2010 and it’s important to remember that!

7)      Try – Another problem with the hetalia fandom is that most people just stray away from non-european countries. On google, it says there are 196 countries in the world and if you add all of the micronations, you easily have more than 200 ‘nations’. The thing is, the countries that we keep missing out all have their own histories and cultures – this is a constant. I personally see hetalia as a series which serves to show that not all history is depressing and gory – it can be funny and amusing too! And it’s not just Europe that has amusing aspects to it’s history and culture. Where’s the jollof rice war between Nigeria and Ghana? Or the confusion surrounding how many islands Indonesia has? Creating ocs for the world’s countries literally means that what you draw doesn’t need to be as limited – You can have a BRICS meeting, or have a meeting between the African Union. Hetalia literally has a worldwide fanbase and wouldn’t it be interesting if we could spread more countries to the fans outside of the canon countries in the show? Shouldn’t it be our goal as fans of a show about different nations and cultures to introduce people to as many cultures as possible? So I encourage you guys to try with hetalia OCs – Just maybe run it by other people before making it public and MAKE SURE YOU DO YOUR RESEARCH.

It isn’t hard to create an OC, in fact I’d say it’s a bit easier for hetalia because we have access to everything we need to make one.

I hope this helps ^^

[whatapunk]

Sooo... I finally decided to start my Kanan/ex-girlfriend fic that I've been writing in my head for weeks. I haven't written fanfiction (or anything fun) in a very long time so this took some real motivation (and unconditional love for Kanan/Kanera).

It is set at the very beginning of Season 2, when the Spectres have joined Phoenix Crew and Kanan is looking for anything to distract him from the formalities of military life. "Anything" including his ex-girlfriend Rhia Denley, current member of Phoenix Crew. This fic will reflect the battle between my love for Kanera and my need to write about Kanan’s love life in general in the only way I see fitting: through a love triangle!

This is just a taste for the first bit, but I hope to keep going!

Title: Endings

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Relationship: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla; Kanan Jarrus/female OC

Rating: t for now, m in future chapters (I'm guessing) for language and some non-explicit intimacy

Word Count: 1688

Chapter 1

Everywhere people walked, trotted, and ran into and out of Kanan’s line of vision. They criss-crossed in every single direction, yet everyone managed to stay out of each other’s way for the most part. It was suffocating, Kanan thought. So many people, faces, ranks and titles. He’d only been working aboard the Liberator for a few standard weeks (long enough, in his opinion), but he’d already given up on trying to remember the ranking system, let alone the specific rank of each rebel. He’d taken to walking behind Hera any time they were aboard the vessel, and when she saluted someone, he, begrudgingly, did the same. Otherwise, he stayed aboard Ghost as often as he could.

Hera was in front of him now, and the kids- Zeb, Sabine, and Ezra- followed close by. Kanan felt bad; she’d been explaining what she wanted to do differently the next time they were on a similar “cargo-thieving” mission as the one they’d just returned from, and he’d all but started ignoring her. It was entirely his fault, he felt. He couldn’t hear himself think over all of the people in the bay and the intercom that seemed to always be seeking out someone.

Hera could sense that Kanan wasn’t really paying attention, but she was mostly talking to herself right now. She always felt better when she could explain things out loud, even if it was only to herself.

“Well I thought the mission went pretty well,” Ezra spoke up, shaking Hera out of her thoughts. Turns out one of them was listening.

“It’s not that it didn’t go well, Ezra,” Hera added, gently. “I’m just saying there’s always room for improvement.”

Several droids, each carrying a large crate, crossed in front of the Spectres, forcing Hera to stop abruptly and Kanan, who was so focused on watching everything else, bumped into her.

“This place is a madhouse. Why do we need to talk to Sato? Didn’t he just watch everything that just happened? Wasn’t he there?” Kanan said, letting more frustration than was warranted slip out. He frowned and Hera turned and matched the look.

“Kanan, it’s standard protocol to debrief with our commanding officer after…”

Kanan checked out at “protocol.” It seemed like these kinds of things were all Hera talked about these days. He hadn’t felt so restricted in years, nor had he felt like he had to compete for Hera’s attention (more than normal) in years. She was still talking when something caught Kanan’s eye and pulled his gaze and his feet to an abrupt stop.

A glimpse of red, he thought, the kind of which he hadn’t seen in years. Seven of them, to be exact.

A glimpse was all it was though. His eyes searched for where it had come from, but there were easily a hundred personnel in any given direction. Five stacks of crates rose and floated by, presumably carried by five people eclipsed on the other side of them. They formed a wall as they passed that effectively obstructed his view of the crowd of people in which he thought he spotted the red hair.

“Kanan?” Hera touched his arm, and his attention returned to her.

“What are you doing?” He glanced back over the sea of people, not ready to admit he hadn’t seen anything.

“I thought I saw....” Kanan trailed off, searching… searching…

“Who do you know in Phoenix Cell?” Hera asked, disbelief and a joking edge surrounding her words. That got Kanan to look at her, his usual smirk back on his face. Hera thought briefly how she hadn’t seen such a face lately, and then the thought was passed up by a million others.

“No one, that I know of,” he said, giving Hera a smile and walking back over to the others who waited, confused. Just as he was ready to get his mind back on the Spectres and whatever mundane, soul-crushing aspect of Phoenix Cell awaited him, there it was again- a flash of the most unique and memorable shade of red Kanan had ever seen. Only this time it wasn’t just a flash, and it was connected to the head and body of one of the people who had just set down one of the large stacks of crates. Kanan stared at the woman, mouth starting to fall open, and almost let her return to the crowd, lost, before he forced a single word onto his tongue.

“Rhia?!” *** Rhia Denley grunted as her arms lifted a crate over her head and locked it into the stack that rose before her. Bashi said something next to her that still wasn’t loud enough for her to hear it (she’d been telling him to speak up since she reported this morning).

“What, Bashi?” she snapped, and the Mythrol pursed his blue lips, hearing the edge in her voice.

“I was saying,” Bashi started, then remembered to amplify his voice even more, “all of the carrier droids have been checked out, so I could only get three of them. So you and I just need to move these two stacks to the drop zone on the other side of the bay where someone else’s droids will see them and grab them.” Rhia smiled, feeling guilty for snapping and also appreciative that he’d finally spoken loud enough for her to hear him.

“Gotcha. Sorry, Bash, you know this place is an echo chamber. I’m already old and hard of hearing,” she joked, giving him a punch in the arm. He smiled and nodded as he typed in directions on the last carrier droid next to them. The droid revved and began lifting the stack; only, it’s motor whined and sputtered, nearly collapsing and bringing the stack of crates tumbling. Before either Rhia or Bashi could react, the droid’s engines fully kicked in and its back thruster let out a gust of warm exhaust that sent a few bits of Rhia’s pinned-back hair flailing. She frowned, pushed the pieces behind her ears, and squatted, ready to lift her stack.

“Don’t forget,” she started, glancing sideways at Bashi who had started to bend forward to grab his crates, “lift with your knees.” She snapped upright, her stack in her arms and her legs feeling underprepared. She would have grabbed an anti-grav platform if she’d known she’d be in charge of the heavy-lifting. Bashi’s recent words floated through her mind at that thought; if droids were in short supply, everything else useful probably was too.

Rhia couldn’t really see where she was going but she was able to sneak her head out from the side of her stack and kept up with the droid in front of her. When she saw the yellow-outlined square appear under her feet, signalling a drop zone, she brought her stack to the floor again. Her legs felt shaky, reminding her she really should adhere to the volunteer fitness regimes more. She stood up and saw Bashi’s shaky stack show up right next to hers. Clearly, the Mythrol had struggled with the weight as well.

“Bashi, I think you and I had better hit the running machine more if the Rebellion gets any bigger.” He looked at her, confused. “There won’t be any droids left to save our legs,” she added, smiling. Bashi grinned, letting a quiet chuckle out, and began walking back into the crowd in the main part of the bay. Rhia began to follow when someone unfamiliar called her name, just her first name, and she looked back over her shoulder. 

“Rhia?!”

There stood a man with a small beard and ponytail, wearing green shoulder armor that extended down his right arm. He was several years older than the last time she had seen him, to be sure, but there was no doubt- the man was Kanan Jarrus.

“Kanan?” Rhia asked, just as stunned as he had been. Around them, organized chaos continued, monotonous calls came steadily over the intercom, and the group of rebels around Kanan all watched intently. However, the two of them only continued to stare. Finally, Rhia spoke first.

“You’re with Phoenix Crew?” she asked, clearly in some sort of disbelief. 

“Well… uh…” Kanan drew his hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess… We’re new,” he added, gesturing to the Spectres. Rhia’s eyes went to them as he introduced them.

“This is Zeb, Ezra, Sabine, and Hera my- uh, my pilot,” he stammered when he got to Hera, and Rhia could instantly tell why.

Hera frowned ever so slightly and gave Kanan a look out of the corner of her eye at the word “pilot.” Kanan was doing the stammering thing he did when he was pretending to know what he was doing. Clearly, he knew this woman and clearly she was having an affect on him. She didn’t want to be jealous and tried to remind herself that the only reason Kanan had stumbled over what to refer to her as was because of the boundaries surrounding their relationship- boundaries she’d been the one to set. Still, the sight and sound of him now reminded her of the moment they’d met for the first time, back on Gorse all those years ago, and, frankly, she didn’t like it. 

“It’s good to meet you,” Rhia said, politely, nodding to the crew. She waited for Kanan (or anyone, really) to speak again, but they stood together in more silence that was quickly becoming awkward. Rhia was trying to think of a quick way to end the encounter when a familiar blue face popped out of the crowd behind Kanan and the others.

“Captain Denley!” Bashi called, a datapad aloft in his hands. Rhia silently thanked him with her eyes for the rescue.

“Sorry, you’ll have to excuse me,” she said, giving a final nod and beginning to walk past them. On her way she paused and placed a soft hand on Kanan’s shoulder. She spoke quietly but not so quiet that it seemed intimate.

“We should catch up,” she said, smiling. And with that she continued past and back into the throng of the bustling service bay.

[fluffybunnybadass]

Worth More Than You Think

Fandom: Dragon Ball Xenoverse

Word count: 3300

Content warnings: brief flashback of a child being harmed, high emotions about past friendships, and uhhhh I don’t think there’s another but if there is, please hmu

Rating: uhhhh Teen?

Summary: It’s a restless night for the otherwise stoic Saiyan that had been deposited on Earth after two Time Patrollers found her. It’s clear to the human that has been trying to befriend her that something’s bothering them, but, as usual, they refuse to say anything. If only he could just get Chikori to talk...

This features two of my Xenoverse OCs, Chikori and Fallafal. Chikori is a she/they non-binary Saiyan, and Fallafal is an ordinary Human living with his family on their farm. This story takes place well before the events of Xenoverse 1, yet it is only one of the first ticks that the wheel of fate has taken in creating that tale.

---

Heyyyyy I had a high emotions and frustrations morning, a friend asked me to vent, and afterwards i just really felt like I could maybe work the remaining balance of feelings into a story. So this is, in the most vaguest way, based on actual events, but also twisted to fit within the framework of “canon”. 

I’m testing out how to work in flux/dual pronoun usage while writing. It is intentional if you see both used for Chikori within the same sentence, and not at all laziness. Enjoy! 

---------------------------

Chikori was restless tonight. The purple-haired Saiyan had found themselves a comfortable tree branch that oversaw a lake, with just enough clearing in the tree above it that she could see the stars and half-moon above. Her tail flicked and swished, irate, as thoughts surrounded them. A frustrated growl startled the nearby wildlife, before they resumed their nightly routine.

That was how Fallafal found them. He had gone looking when the Saiyan had disappeared after the meal they shared with his family, more quiet than usual. Sulky, almost. He came to stand under the tree, watching the brown tail above flick about like it was swatting flies. It reminded him of the farm's cat. He let out a sigh and ruffled his hair, not sure where to start with her.

“You know,” he began slowly, building up his courage to speak to the Saiyan. What if they didn't want to talk? What if they were somehow mad at him or his family, or felt like they were keeping her here because she had no where else to go in the galaxy? The Saiyan had been dumped on his family's property by some “Time Patrollers”, or whatever they called themselves, and the Saiyan was awfully quiet about its history. The Patrollers had said very little themselves, though he was certain the yellow one wanted to share with him everything that she? It? Could.

“You know,” he began again, swallowing his fears. “If sumthin's botherin' you, you could've just talk to me an' my family.” He paused. “Nuthin' good came of not telling anybody how you feel.”

The Saiyan didn't respond, but Fallafal could see her tail stop for a second, slowing down, with only the tip of it flicking in thoughtfulness.

“Aaaah.... I don't kno' how to help you if you're keepin' quiet. N-Not that you hafta talk!!!” he added in a panic. “I jus' know that, when my sis was feelin' bad growin' up, even when none of us had the answers to her problems, she felt much better sharin' than tryna hide it from us.”

There was a long pause. Fallafal sighed, about ready to turn in and go home, when the Saiyan finally spoke to him.

“......I'm not hiding anything,” they said in a level voice. “I'm thinking.”

Fallafal felt a sliver of relief that she was willing to talk to him, and sat under the tree to talk with her.

“That's great! Mind sharin' what's on yer mind?”

Another pause. There was a soft flicker in the tail, much like his cat when it was deciding something. Perhaps Saiyans were more like cats than monkeys...? But who was he to suggest that, when he didn't know anything about this alien species that had apparently gone extinct hundreds of years ago, the remnants of their bloodline so diluted amongst the humans and other species, that no one even knew about it.

“..... I'm remembering something.”

Fallafal fell silent. Chikori had barely shared any of her past with him. All he knew was that she was a member of some space army-- or had been--, and that she had no recollection of what happened to the ship she was aboard between being cryogenetically frozen and being picked up by the Patrollers. She had shown a few times her amazing, inhuman strength, and refused to go outside on certain nights, claiming it was for his and his family's safety. Whatever it was, if she was going to share it, it had to have been important.

“I'm listening, Chikori.”

The Saiyan kept quiet for a moment. Fallafal thought that maybe she had changed her mind about sharing. He watched her figure in the moonlight. Though it fell on her, he couldn't see her expression. But based on her tone and usual demeanor, he could hazard a guess that it was the same as always: placid.

“There was this... other Saiyan in my training unit on Planet Vegeta. This started before the Saiyan Army had been annexed into the Frieza Force.” She stopped.

Fallafal kept still, deciding to let Chikori speak at the pace she preferred.

The Saiyan looked down at the human sitting on the ground below her. His tousled brown hair, his green and brown clothes that almost blended into the planet's surface... She felt... uncertain about confiding in such a weak creature with such a low ki power, and yet... she was curious, as to what this low-leveled, hardly-worth-mentioning human could give her, if she told him this memory.

“I was upset with this new life we had created for ourselves. The planet had undergone what you would call a civil war. A selfish Saiyan had created an uprising, and slaughtered an entire race that I had known all my life to be peaceful. He declared himself King of the Saiyans when the battle was over, and many of the Saiyans left alive were of the sort to support him and agree.”

There was a lull as she carefully thought about her words. Fallafal half-wondered if that was it. Already that was a loaded history she had given him, but he sensed there was more to what they had been thinking about, so he kept quiet until they would tell him it was over.

“Any who opposed King Vegeta were left to work the mundane jobs or executed on the spot, per his orders.

“I had lost many Tuffle and Saiyan companions in that war that comprised my childhood. I was angry. I was hurt. But I wanted to live. So I kept silent, and bid my superiors the respect they demanded, and did not challenge anything. I knew I couldn't be the only Saiyan left alive who was struggling with this, but I did not seek them out. None of us could. It would only mean death if we had.”

The Saiyan wrapped their tail around themselves, the tip flicking softly against her body like a metronome.

“His name was Turnip. You would probably call him a friend; but I do not think any Saiyan left alive back then would have called each other that. He had commiserated with me initially about the training we were going under. It was difficult, moreso than the training during the war. Perhaps enough Saiyan lives had been lost that they were eager to fill in the space left behind with stronger ones. He seemed to enjoy my company, I think. I could tolerate him, out of all my peers.” There was a small exhale of air from her nose, as though what they had said was humorous. “I think he even preferred me over some of his companions, some days.

“I don't think he knew, but he helped me through a difficult transition. Perhaps we both did. I used to suspect that he was like me, but we never discussed it.” She let out a long exhale, sounding tired. “I apologize. I am not used to talking this much.”

Fallafal adjusted his seating for a more comfortable position.

“It's okay,” he said. “You're welcome to talk for as long as you want. I'm more than okay with it. I—” He cut himself off, catching what he was about to say, and cleared his throat. “I am more than willin' to listen, if you want to share.”

There was a pause.

“I don't, but I feel like a small part of me wants to. Is it unusual to want to indulge in that?”

“Not at all! Given where ya come from, I can understand a lot better why you're always so hesitant an' avoidant when it comes to talkin' 'bout yourself. A lot of army people are like that.”

Pause.

“I do not hesitate.”

“You do! You're hesitatin' right now!”

Chikori scowled at her human companion, wishing that there might be something she could throw at him from up here in this tree, but the branches of Earth's trees did not seem promising. And a ki blast would be far too much for such a low-level creature.

Fallafal fell over laughing, which only made her scowl more, until a soft growling could be heard coming from her.

“Okay, okay! I give! You're not hesitatin'! You're completely an' 100% eager to tell me this story.”

She frowned at him, recognizing the human dialect of sarcasm in his response. Her tail had unwound and began flicking in the air out of irritation.

“You do not need to be like that.”

“I'm sorry, I promise. I really do wanna hear your story, Chikori.”

The growing irritation in the Saiyan's spirit was hard to abate, but she had to remind herself that he was not her enemy; and that he would not take this information and use it against her. How could he? Unless he was a spy this entire time for the Frieza Force.... Capable of masking his ki and looking like a simple human being. No, she doubted that. He couldn't even see her moves when he had asked her to train him one day.

“Fine. I will continue.”

Fallafal sat back up and nodded, and the serious tone befell the both of them once more.

“He had been a good companion at first. But as time went on, and the Saiyan Army soon became part of the Frieza Force, I noticed a change in him. There was a change in the whole Army when Frieza happened. But I didn't notice it until I saw it in Turnip. He was enjoying the fighting a lot more. Those companions that he disliked, he grew to tolerate. And there was less time spent around me. I don't think he realized what had happened. I mentioned this to him, that there was a change once we became part of the Frieza Force, and that it felt far worse than what we went through on the whole from the Tuffle-Saiyan war.

“But he didn't think so.”

She fell silent. Her tail drooped over the edge of the branch, hands curled into fists as the frustration welled up once more.

“I wanted to punch him right then and there for that.”

Chikori let out a sudden guttural scream that had startled Fallafal, and she shot a ki blast at the moon. It went far away into the sky, dissipating into nothing as it reached the planet's atmosphere. She screamed again, beating her fist against the tree that she sat in. Leaves rustled, animals flew or skittered away. Those that were on the ground had scattered far away.

“I hated him so much for that!”

There was the sound of pain and anguish in her voice. Fallafal had stood up quickly, worried that Chikori might hurt someone, even herself. Beings with supernatural power, growing angry or getting hurt, was a recipe for concern in his mind. But more importantly-- he had never heard her have so much raw emotion in her voice in the short time that he knew her.

“Chikori!”

“What?!” she growled down at him. She felt the emotion well up again, the pain and resentment and hatred, yes, even hatred of this person that she had felt some level of comfort around. Hot moisture fell down her face, much like the sweat from the intense training she went through growing up, but it didn't taste like it. It almost felt like...

A flash went through her mind of her childhood. Of being seven, and seeing her Tuffle friend get taken away from her by the Saiyans that fought for King Vegeta. Her friend, dragged by the ankle as a soldier carelessly let their body scrape across the ground. Her friend's face as they screamed at her to help them, when she couldn't do anything herself.

She screamed again and shot a ki blast at the ground. It narrowly missed Fallafal. She quickly curled up into herself, her arms around her legs as she cried into her knees, tail wrapped warmly around her waist as though it was the only thing holding her in place.

Tears. She was crying tears again.

“Chikori, please... I hate sayin' this, but you need to calm down. You're goin' to hurt somethin', or sum'one, or even yourself. You got every right to be angry, but please don't destroy my planet or the forest for it.”

“I THOUGHT HE KNEW!!!” she screamed into her legs. “I THOUGH HE KNEW WHAT IT WAS LIKE!!!! I THOUGHT--!! I THOUGHT HE UNDERSTOOD!!!!” She felt so out of sorts that she didn't even know how to begin to explain herself, to put into words what she meant to say. It was all, just... so hopelessly helpless to her. That she had even given him a chance, only for him to turn around and become one of them...

“Chikori!” he shouted up at her. “Please...! I can't.... I can't help you from up there.”

At that, she stuck her head out, a nasty scowl on her face. “I never ASKED for your help!! Why?! Why do you keep sticking your nose where it doesn't belong?! Aren't you better off, not knowing these things?”

“Chikori...” Fallafal let out a long sigh. He put his hands on his hips, looked at the tree, and ruffled his hair. “Look, I 'aven't done this in a while, so jus' give me a moment.”

He took a deep breath, and exhaled. He charged at the tree, jumping onto it. He grunted as he climbed up, until he was on the nearest branch to where Chikori had curled themselves up.

“What-- What are you doing?”

“Look, I don't like talkin' to people on diff'rent grounds. Whether that's up high or way down low, neither's gonna help us understand one 'nother if we ain't on same ground, right?”

“I.... I don't quite follow, but I suppose...?”

He sighed, scratching the back of his head as he tried to think about the next part.

“Look, it's... It's hard, what you went through. Like, a lot of that. A LOT a lot. We might have to see 'bout getting' you to some psychatrist or sumthin',” he added in an aside.

Chikori had stopped her sniffling. She tilted her head, more confused than she needed to be. “What's-- what's that?”

“Uh, never you mind that. I, uh. I don't really know what to say, honestly. You been through a lot. An' you thought you had that with this Turnip guy, right? That you had a companion you could at least relate to, yea?” Chikori nodded slowly, unaware of where Fallafal was going with this. “Well. That's... That's tough. I ain't got anythin' else to say for it. But what can you do 'bout it? He's long bin dead, right?” Well, probably, he thought to himself. That whole Time Patrol kinda made it confusing for him. “So's he ain't gonna bother you anymore, right? You can't talk to him anymore. Yer just holdin' onto all of this anger, or you been doin' that, and I'm hopin' this helped ya figure some of that out or made it better, but I ain't got any tricks goin' forward to help you with it. I jus' know that talkin' about it makes it lighter. It doesn't make it go away, like my sister's always said, but it makes it easier and lighter sum'times, when that weight gits too heavy to carry.”

He looked over at Chikori, cautiously. She hadn't said anything while he spoke, and instead had been looking at him with intense interest. But the emotional state that she had worked herself up into seemed to be receding. Her breathing seemed calmer, and the tears that had fallen had become a trickle.

“A-are... are you good?” he asked cautiously. “'Cuz I mean, I don' mind carryin' that weight withya a bit longer.”

Chikori looked at him, slowly coming back to the calm state of mind that she had honed during her time in the two military forces that had plagued the universe. He didn't say anything to her, just watching her face for the tiniest chance that she might go one way or the other, and she didn't answer him immediately either. They both had kept quiet, until finally, she had found her calm.

“I think... I am fine, now,” she said slowly, as though her mouth was slowly getting the hang of words again.

“Whew, good. 'Cuz I didn' know what to do if you weren't.”

That had earned him a soft chuckle from the Saiyan.

“Wait-- Wait a min', did you-- did you jus' laugh?”

“I did no such thing.” There was the smallest hints of a smile at the corner of the Saiyan's lips. Fallafal leaned in a bit, squinting as the Saiyan looked back at him, concerned. He kept leaning over until he forgot that he was on a branch and nearly fell off, barely hanging by one hand. Without saying anything, Chikori got up and pulled him up so he could sit onto his branch again.

“Are you okay?”

“Who, me? Pfff. Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Happens all the time.” He waved off her concern. “But you? Are you fine, for sure?”

“For the second time, yes, Fallafal. I am fine.”

He let out a relieved sigh. “Whew, okay. Good. I'm glad. I... I got worried, there, for a sec'. 'Cuz you an' me... well, I don't know you too well, an--”

“Stop.” The Saiyan looked away. Her face was starting to warm from shame. “I don't like showing such weakness--”

“Hey. It's not weakness. I mean, I don't know if it's the same for you as it is for me, but I think it's okay to be a little human an' have some emotions every now an' then. I don't think anyone's going to come here and hurt you.”

The Saiyan didn't say anything in response to that. Then... “Did you want me to continue?”

“There's more?!”

“Well.... Not too much more.”

“I'm supposin' so, if you wanna.”

“I stopped talking to him after that. I was mad, irate for days. I apparently did better during training sessions at the time. But he never said anything. He never talked to me unless we had to, unless I approached him. When we finished our basic training, and had been assigned to different squadrons, I never saw him again. I don't know what happened to him. Sometimes... I hope he reflected on the past, and held immense regret. Especially for someone who had favoured me so much, at one point. At other times, before I arrived here, I wanted to find him and defeat him with my own two fists. But that wouldn't have served any purpose except to make him stronger.” At this, she stopped, taking note of Fallafal's sudden confused stare. She mirrored it with one of her own. “Were you not aware? Saiyans get stronger whenever they're pushed to death. It's what turned the tide during the long war. We had eventually become stronger than their numbers and technology. This is most likely the reason why Frieza had wanted us added to his armies so much. ...We were the perfect weapon for an evil bastard like him.”

“Ah. I see... So you never saw Turnip again?”

“No. Though, as I said, there are times where I wish I did. No doubt he would have used it for his own gain, though I suppose someone like you might call it his loss.”

“Well, you're right. It is his loss.”

“I will never understand that.”

“You don't hafta just yet. Maybe we'll get to that another time.”

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 45: Mᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ Tᴇʀʀɪᴛᴏʀʏ

A/N: We’re back baby! It’s taken me a little while but I’ve worked through my crap and I honestly have too much love for this story to let it go. I have so many plans and I’m still committed to developing Bellamy and Indigo’s relationship and journey. I’ll be continuing to use GIF’s because I actually still have not seen the entire show so it’s impossible for me to recast at this point. I’m in process of watching season 3 now as I like to go into things as blind as Indie does. If you’re not able to return to this story, that’s okay and thank you for all of your support so far. For everyone still here, your love for this story means the world to me <3

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for.

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Forty-Five

My shift finally drew to a close, leaving me exhausted and I felt that I had worked off enough of my earlier anger to only be left with a simmering bitterness. I wandered toward Bellamy’s quarters with a knot in my stomach as I expected an argument and for a moment I considered whether to simply hide in dorms for the night. I took a steadying breath before stepping inside and found Bellamy in the middle of undressing for bed. He turned at the sound of the door and a tired smile spread across his overworked face as he noticed me.

“You’re back.” He breathed with a tone of relief and I wondered if he hadn’t expected me to return.

“I am.” I replied awkwardly as I waited in the doorway for any indication of his mood.

There wasn’t any visible anger in his demeanour, or I was stunned to find that he didn’t seem to be interested in causing a fight between us. Instead, he simply continued to prepare for bed and I slid my jacket off casually as I strolled further into the room to place it on a chair. I considered removing my trousers and simply climbing into bed, as the desperately tired part of my brain demanded that I sleep immediately, but I was still unsure if I were welcome here following his earlier remarks. I turned toward the bed to confront Bellamy, but was immediately cut off as he stepped into my space to draw me into a heated kiss. My breath hitched at the sudden contact as his hands squeezed my hips and I had to lean against the dresser to brace myself against his enthusiasm.

My mind was reeling at his unexpected energy and I realised that my expectations of this evening were completely incorrect. He gathered me against his chest and my entire body thrummed with excitement, despite the concerned thoughts still buzzing around in the back of my mind. For once, I was annoyed with the intoxication of his touch and knew that the tension of this morning still lingered in the back of both of our minds. I tore myself away from his lips with an overpowering reluctance and attempted a stern expression, but he simply moved to peppering kisses along my neck as he threaded a hand into my hair.

“Bel.” I hoped to be authoritative and although it was clear from my tone that I wanted his attention, his name fell from my lips in a far more breathy manner than I had intended. He groaned against my skin and as he dragged himself up to meet my eyes, I acknowledged that he didn’t appreciate the interruption.

“I don’t want to talk.” He clarified and despite how direct his words were, I couldn’t detect an ounce of malice in his voice, nor any indication of the attitude that he’d addressed me with this morning. Instead, there was something vulnerable in his eyes that made me wonder if his overnight adventures had affected him more than he was currently willing to admit.

“Then, what do you want?” I asked with a frown and I knew that he understood that I was referring to more than just in this moment. The way that he’d spoken as if there was a deep hurt earlier had left me doubtful if he’d even want me here and if we weren’t going to discuss it, I would at least give him the option to tell me if he wanted me to leave after this.

“You. I want you.” He asserted as he stared into my eyes and I was relieved that we understood each other so well. When he next pressed his lips to mine, there was an urgency that spurred me forward. Before I could think twice about talking, he had twisted us around to lower me to the bed. I knew from the desperation of his actions that he craved the distraction and he barely paused enough to allow me to gather my thoughts. Okay, we can talk about this later. 

***

My new routine of training in the morning and working shifts in mechanical in the afternoon allowed a week to fly past without my notice. Monty remained adamant that I didn’t shoulder too much of the strain and so on days that I had an afternoon available, I found myself assisting with preparing food for the camp whilst Bellamy was busy in meetings or training sessions. There had been no mention of the conversation by the gates and although Bellamy behaved awkwardly every time that he caught me on route to a shift, he hadn’t mentioned Knox at all since. I hadn’t decided how to bring this up in a way that would allow for a conversation rather than a confrontation. Things between us were still fresh and I was nervous that addressing this might trigger a conversation about what the nature of our relationship was. I’d already grown comfortable in our warm routine and I didn’t want to jeopardise it by asking for more. For the time being, I had decided to simply enjoy every moment for what it was and to not obsess over the longevity of it.

Now that I was beginning to regain my strength, my lessons with Octavia and Lincoln had intensified and although I’d given the stipulation that they couldn’t cover me in bruises, they’d mastered getting as close as possible without leaving marks. I felt confident in my progression and discovered that it was a helpful method of both burning off the anger that I buried inside and leaving me too exhausted to spend the entire night filled with nightmares. I considered it an achievement to have simply reduced the number of painful visions that haunted my sleep and I embraced any progress that I could gain. 

After a particularly intense morning, I settled in the courtyard of camp to wind down. Monty had taken the shift in mechanical and I hadn’t yet volunteered for kitchen duty, which allowed me the chance to savour the cool midday air. 

“Hey Indigo, enjoying some time off?” A nervous voice drew my attention and I glanced up to find Knox smiling at me bashfully.

“Hey bud.” I cheered as I leaned back in a relaxed manner and smiled encouragingly at my insecure companion. “Yeah, Monty wouldn’t let me have the shift so I’ll probably just hit the kitchen again.” I commented lightly and he nodded.

“That explains it.” He muttered and I tilted my head quizzically at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not working somewhere, or training. I didn’t realise you knew how to take a break.” He added with a sly smile and I gasped in surprise.

“And I didn’t realise you were a smartass!” I remarked as I jabbed at him playfully and he chuckled. “Did Wick give you any more crazy assignments yet?” I enquired with interest and he detailed the latest impossible task that he’d been given to share with Raven’s equally talented science friend. Knox had filled me in on some camp rumours that there was some kind of romance going on between her and Wick, and I retained this information to investigate when I had the opportunity to catch Raven alone. I glanced to my side to notice one of the kitchen staffers crossing the courtyard. “Hold that thought Knox, I’ll be right back.” I chirped as I rushed over to meet them and arranged to assist with preparing meals later on. Once she left, I turned to find Bellamy standing silently beside me and jolted so hard that I actually felt my soul leave my body for a moment.

“Jesus, don’t do that!” I gasped as I held a hand to my chest and he shook his head as he smiled in amusement. “Seriously, it’s creepy! Couldn’t you...I don’t know, stomp your feet or make a noise or something when you approach to give me a warning? You’re so damn stealthy.” I blurted and he couldn’t contain a snort of laughter at my comments.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He chuckled as he placed his hands in his pockets in a relaxed posture. “Good workout?” He asked with a hint of a smirk and I pursed my lips at him before breaking into a playful smile.

“Oh yeah, I beat the crap out of both of them.” I joked as I mimicked some speedy punches and he smiled warmly at my childish display. It didn’t last long as I quickly realised that I didn’t have enough energy remaining and sighed in exhaustion.

“Easy Xena, you’ll put me out of a job soon. We won’t need guards at this rate.” He teased with a bemused expression and I found my mouth dropping open in surprise.

“See, this is why I keep you around! You get my dorky references.” I crooned with an overly enthusiastic tone and he rolled his eyes in disappointment. He glanced over my shoulder for a split second and his smile faded as he focused on something. I peeked in the direction that he was staring and easily calculated that it was Knox’s awkwardly waiting form that he was watching. Bellamy returned his attention to me and the playful glitter had faded from his eyes as he tried to force a casual tone.

“So, that’s Knox, huh?” He enquired and although he strained to mask the tension in his voice, it was still crystal clear to me. I had to wonder if he had been investigating in camp to acquire a description of him, or whether he simply assumed since Knox was the only unfamiliar face that I had spoken to.

“Yes, that’s Knox.” I stated matter of factly and determinedly declined to add any further comment. If he wanted to know something in particular, he was going to have to ask.

“He seemed interested in you. What did he want?” Bellamy quizzed as the tension between the two of us only grew with every word and I cocked a brow at him in confusion.

“He didn’t want anything, we just chatted. He’s not used to seeing me relax so I think he was confused.” I explained with an amused tone to clarify that this was an insignificant conversation but this only seemed to rile Bellamy further. I witnessed his gaze drift back over my shoulder and when he next viewed me, he shuffled on the spot with a certain stressed energy about him.

“I don’t like him chatting to you. He’s practically hanging off you, it’s weird.” He stated firmly and I felt my brows shoot up in surprise. Knox had been consistently friendly since the moment we met and I could tell that he simply looked up to the entire group that had survived here before they arrived. I suspected he probably admired Bellamy as a leader more than the others, if he would only take the time to notice.

“What are you even talking about?” I breathed as I viewed him with disbelief and I caught his stern face as he returned his gaze to Knox. The intensity of his stare would make even the toughest of our camp members bolt and I could see poor Knox squirming out of the corner of my eye. “Stop glaring at him.” I hissed but his scowl remained focused as if I hadn’t even spoken.

“I’m not.” He stated in a distracted tone without even attempting to cover his blatant ignorance and I crossed my arms in annoyance.

“Bellamy!” I growled and the sharpness of my tone finally seemed to pull him from his intimidation mission. I gave him an unimpressed gesture and he shifted awkwardly as he met my eyes. I scanned between him and Knox, and my mind finally pieced together the information that I was presented. I could hardly believe what I was about to ask, but I couldn’t theorise any other logical explanation for his bizarre behaviour. “Are you jealous?” I interrogated and his eyes widened at my accusation.

“What?” He breathed and I held my expectant gaze as I awaited an answer. “No!” He spat defensively and fidgeted nervously on the spot in an effort to conceal his aggravation. I felt a lurch in my gut at his reaction and kicked myself for not realising what I was dealing with sooner. Bellamy always seemed so full of confidence that I had never imagined he would be jealous. A memory stirred in the back of my mind of his reaction when I tended to Murphy in the dropship after his torture and I realised that it was absolutely a weakness of his. “What do I have to be jealous of? He’s just a kid.” He scoffed and I struggled to contain a laugh, until I caught him sneaking a brief glare at Knox again.

“Exactly, he’s just a kid. So why are you giving him the death stare?” I investigated and he turned back to me as if he hadn’t done anything. I couldn’t think how I was going to deal with this situation if he wouldn’t even admit to his part in it and I pitied Knox for drawing the ire of someone so intimidating for no good reason. I thought Bellamy understood how impossible it was for anyone to lure me away from him and considered voicing these reassurances, but I was still too nervous to put my feelings into words in case it scared him off.

“I just don’t trust him, he wasn’t part of our camp.” He excused and I rolled my eyes at his blatant omission of the truth. I knew that the fact that Knox wasn’t here before was likely the foundation of the issue, but I suspected that it was specifically because he hadn’t witnessed the development of the bond between Bellamy and I. Everyone from our old camp knew that I was off limits, without him having to label us as anything. I calculated that Bellamy was uncomfortable with the fact that I hadn’t been marked as unavailable to this particular male. Whilst lost in thought, I didn’t notice Bellamy stepping closer until he carefully brushed my hair behind my ear with a flirtatious expression. 

“Did I mention that you look pretty today?” He drawled and I couldn’t contain a snort of laughter at his new tactic.

“Don’t change the topic.” I warned with a blatant lilt of amusement. He brought his hands to rest on my hips as he closed into my space and bit his lip in a way that he knew drove me wild. I willed myself not to be distracted by his sly methods and held my ground for as long as I could.

“I’m not. I just can’t help being distracted by you.” He crooned as he leaned in to place a lingering kiss on my cheek and I fixed him with a suspicious look when he met my eyes again.

“I know what you’re doing Bel.” I groaned as I caught him glancing over to check that Knox was watching and I sighed in exasperation at his ridiculous, testosterone fuelled competition.

“Ditch work. I have a couple hours free.” He whispered, before busying himself with trailing kisses from my cheek down my neck and I struggled to concentrate despite my best efforts as he pulled me flush to him. I glanced over at Knox who was awkwardly trying to figure out what to do with himself as he tried to act as if he hadn’t seen anything and knew that Bellamy had already accomplished his goal. At this point, convincing me into bed was just an additional prize and he was doing frustratingly well at earning it. He straightened up to meet my eyes with a keen smile and although I battled to retain my stern expression, I could feel that it didn’t reach my eyes. 

“I thought you didn’t like rules, Love.” He teased as he gradually tilted his head to press his lips to mine and I felt my eyes involuntarily drift closed. It was impossible to reason with him when he resorted to these kinds of tactics and underneath the swirling attraction of my body, I was fuming with myself for giving in to him. I felt myself resting on his chest and as he wound his fingers into my hair, I knew that I had already lost the battle. As we parted for air, I glazed up at him with an arousal obvious in my eyes and he smiled smugly in return.

“You’re a terrible influence.” I stated in a breathy voice as he led me inside the Ark in a victorious strut.

***

The following day Bellamy was gone before I woke again. I couldn’t deny the feeling that he was avoiding discussing his behaviour and my mind obsessed over my recent actions constantly for any error on my part. As a result of my lack of focus, Octavia hammered me with attacks during our session and she eventually ended it early out of frustration. I found myself wandering camp aimlessly as I was completely lost in thought and felt too awkward at the idea of seeing Knox to volunteer for a shift in mechanical. 

Instead, I sought out a quiet spot on camp to reflect where I hoped that I wouldn’t be easily found. Despite all of my internal analysis, I couldn't think of any interactions between Knox and I that could be interpreted as inappropriate and was therefore stuck at the same dead end as before on what I could do to fix this issue with Bellamy. There was a set of footsteps that I was vaguely aware of in my vicinity but I paid it little attention until they approached me and someone cleared their throat as they dropped into a seat opposite.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind.” I glanced up to find Harper examining me with a fond expression and was immediately relieved.

“Pretty sure that’s just my default expression. I honestly can’t remember a time where I didn’t have much to think about.” I stated with an amused smile and she shrugged in response. “Sorry I haven’t checked in with you since we got back. How are you managing?” I enquired with a genuine interest as I leaned forward to examine her. Although our conversations had been limited, Harper had always been kind to me, especially in our time in captivity and it left an enduring fondness for her.

“It’s okay, we’ve all had a lot on our plates, especially with reunions.” She sighed before fixing me with a knowing look that wasn’t filled with mischief or teasing like Octavia or Raven, but simply appreciation for my happiness. “It’s an adjustment, being outside again and with our own people. It’s different to before and there’s something bizarre about living back inside the Ark of all things. I think it’ll take some time to get used to for all of us.” She explained thoughtfully and I hummed in agreement. It was a comfort to discover that I wasn’t the only person here who found this transition challenging and I found that she quickly minimised the anxiety that I was feeling with just her calm company. “I’m glad to have other people around who understand what we went through in there, it makes it easier to deal with the after effects and nightmares.” She muttered as my brows furrowed in concern.

“You’re having them too, huh?” I revealed and her face contorted into a mixture of pity and relief. “Everything heals with time, right?” I added with a supportive smile. “If you ever need to talk about it, I’ve always got time for you Harp. You were there for me at my worst, I want you to know that I’m grateful and I won’t ever forget it.” I divulged as I fidgeted awkwardly on the spot and she smiled thankfully. It was difficult for me to discuss my feelings with new people and although I felt it was important to say, I still felt uncomfortable.

“Thanks. I know I’ll get there eventually, it’s just a process. Monty had been a godsend.” She commented idly and I felt the corners of my lips twitch up toward a smile as she peaked my interest.

“Monty, huh?” I repeated with a forced casual tone and as she avoided meeting my eyes, she cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Yeah, he’s a great guy, easily the most dependable person I’ve met. He’s also kind and wise, and probably the best person you could lean on for support right now. He’ll steer you right, he always has me.” I detailed honestly and when she next met my eyes, I could tell that she already knew all of these things.

“You know, if I didn’t already know about you and Bellamy, I’d think you had a thing for Monty.” She remarked in a way that tried to sound careless, but I knew these kinds of false offhand comments too well to be fooled. I’d used this method many times before when denying my feelings for Bellamy and I was inwardly thrilled to find her speaking of Monty in such a way. I scoffed at her words as genuine laughter escaped me at this idea. 

“Monty is like my little brother, Harp. Jasper too. I absolutely treasure them, but from day one there has never been a question of anything else between us.” I informed her with an overwhelming delight and it was obvious that she was pleased to hear this. “And if it weren’t for Monty’s tendency to gossip like a teenage girl, you wouldn’t know about my lovelife either.” I added with a quirked brow and she snorted in disbelief.

“Right, cause that’s a total secret.” She drawled and I shook my head at her with entertainment. I didn’t mind Harper’s comments as I knew that they were harmless and tried not to allow her words to take root in my mind. “So, Monty’s not involved with you?” She specified and I knew immediately from my own experiences exactly what she truly meant to ask.

“Monty’s not involved with anyone and yes, I’m sure because that boy can’t keep a secret to save his life.” I chuckled and she quickly relaxed at my confirmation. “And as far as I’m aware, if you were to express an interest, it would be well received.” I crooned with a playful wink and her cheeks rapidly flushed.

“I didn’t - I wasn’t - I mean-” She rapidly stuttered as she waved her hands in panic and I smiled smugly at her. I considered taunting the admission from her as my other girlfriends had so often done to me, but as I was in her shoes not so long ago, I decided to cut her some slack.

“Hmm, of course.” I commented finally as I decided not to pursue the topic any further. The seed had been sewn in her mind, now I just had to be patient and allow it to grow. She cleared her throat and seemed to be struggling to think of something else to discuss. My unique understanding of her situation would not allow me to leave her to flounder any longer and so I offered a new line of conversation for her to escape through. “How are you finding guard duty? I didn’t expect you to be so quick to throw yourself back into the fire.” I enquired with genuine interest and she shrugged casually.

“Why not? I was trained in the original group at our old camp; it felt like a waste to not use those skills again.” She explained and I nodded in understanding. I had already forgotten that she was originally part of Bellamy’s militia and found myself hoping that her new post would help to rebuild her confidence following the especially exaggerated trauma that she had from her experiences in Mount Weather. “It’s going well, obviously the first patrol didn’t exactly go to plan, but since when does anything on Earth.” She commented and I sniggered at her point. I couldn’t think of a single plan that had gone ahead without issue since we arrived. “It’s nice to have a purpose, I think that’s why most of us joined. There’s a few people who weren’t at the original camp who are there for not so great reasons, but maybe the experience will help to toughen them up.” She stated with a maturity that demonstrated the hardships she had survived and I tilted my head at her quizzically.

“How do you mean?” I questioned and she shuffled awkwardly as if she had said something that she didn’t mean to.

“Well, prime example. There’s this girl called Mel, she’s the sole survivor from factory station. She volunteered for a guard post and she’s done the training, but it just feels totally hollow. I’m pretty sure she only joined because Bellamy is teaching and she seems more like she’s checking him out than actually paying attention to what he’s saying. She was gushing to some of the others about how he saved her from a cliffside when we were in Mount Weather and how she thinks he’s so selfless and dedicated. I’m just getting sick of watching her flirt with him when she should be concentrating on staying alive. Then there’s Ray, who’s only focus is on killing anything that threatens us because she’s terrified and Max who’s just there to show off.” She ranted in a way that I’d never seen her speak before and it was clear that she needed to get these thoughts off her mind. I listened quietly and tried not to be aggravated by her description of this girl’s behaviour around Bellamy. 

“I don’t know, I don’t want to sound jaded but it’s just kinda frustrating having them there. I know it’s not their fault but they’re so unaware. It feels like they’re at the point we were when we first landed and we already went through those growing pains to become smarter. We constantly have to watch out for them so they don’t get themselves killed and I just don’t have the patience to babysit a bunch of kids who aren’t taking this seriously. Does that make me a bad person?” She slowed as she came to this question and met my eyes with a regretful vulnerability. 

“No, it just makes you human.” I breathed with an understanding smile. “It’s okay to feel frustrated, like you said, we already did this. We just have to try to be patient with them and give them a chance to grow. Hopefully they won’t have it as hard as we did.” I advised as I thought back to Knox’s conversation about the change in Monty and Jasper. It was only natural for our two groups to be at odds at the moment, we were vastly different and our life experiences had shaped us to be cold and distrusting. I hoped that with time we might be able to learn from each other and meet somewhere in the middle. As I reflected on this, Harper sighed in relief as if a weight had been lifted from her and observed me closely.

“You don’t have to worry about Mel, I’m honestly sorry that I even brought her up.” She stated sheepishly and my eyes shot up to meet hers in surprise. “When Bellamy was out on that patrol, it was obvious that all he could think about was getting safely back to you.” She revealed and I found myself smiling despite my best efforts to conceal my emotions. “I’m glad to see you together, you balance each other out well, you know. He has brought back the personality in you and you bring out the best in him.” She added thoughtfully and I chuckled lightly at her analysis. “You’re a cute couple.” She teased with a wink and I rolled my eyes at her.

“We’re not a couple. And Bellamy can flirt with whoever he wants.” I stated adamantly as I crossed my arms and she stared back at me with disbelief.

“Whatever you say.” She crooned and I knew that she was exacting vengeance for my earlier taunting. “Well, I’ll keep you updated on the Mel situation, just in case you decide you care.” She winked and I rolled my eyes at her.

[robin-the-enby]

Treasure of all War boys p.1

Pairing: Nux x OC

Summary: A girl is allowed to join the war boys after catching Immortan Joe's attention. After taking the time to get to know who they really are, she makes it her goal to make their lives at least a bit better.

Warnings: injury description, suicidal intentions

A/N: I'm just wondering why haven't I watched it sooner, I'm probably the only person active in this dead fandom (please guys out there, I need to know I'm not alone) So, this is basically just a backstory for my OC and her relationship with Nux. He deserved better, let's face it.

Gifs found on Google

* * * * *

She didn't know her name, where she was, how long she had been here. She didn't remember her parents, who they were, what they looked like or their names. It was all useless information, because they weren't here now and so they couldn't help her with her only goal. Survival.

Making a life for oneself in the desert was not at all easy. But luck was on her side it seemed.

After wandering mindlessly through the desert for many nights, she found a wreck, of what, she didn't know. It wasn't a big wreck, but it would provide shelter from the storms. Nothing was worse than storms. Tornados, flying sand, strong wind, thunder and lightning, death and destruction everywhere, accompanied by great noise. She decided to make it her hideout, over time she improved it bit by bit, she brought in an old, moldy mattress and found herself a rusty old knife that she stole from a corpse.

Her hideout was near a road, so she waited for cars to appear and as foolish as it was, she tried to stop them and trade water for a place to sleep. Luck was on her side again, because nobody had ever tried to harm her and often felt sorry enough for her to give her a few gulps of the fresh liquid. But never ever had anyone taken up her offer of a roof above their head.

She knew why, but didn't mind it much herself. Being surrounded by two-headed lizards her whole life, or rather what she remembered from it, her mutation felt almost normal to her. Even though she could see why a third eye would throw someone off.

Most of the time, she didn't even know it was there, It's not like it was a functional eye. It was just an eyeball, no pupil, eyelashes or eyebrow and it was completely numb to pain. She wasn't even sure it blinked.

Times were becoming hard, harder than before, hard like times before she found her precious hideout.

No cars have passed this part of the road and she was becoming weaker and weaker. Her body, in an attempt to save itself, shut down as many functions as possible, just to keep the heart beating.

But she knew it wasn't enough.

After a particularly harsh storm, which nearly scared the life out of her and which made quite a few holes in her hideout, the roar of car engines could be heard. Her heart skipped a beat, both from fright and excitement. Cars meant people, people meant water.

But people could also mean danger.

And that was something she couldn't risk in her weak state. So she gathered all her strength, gripped her rusty knife and crawled through one of the holes out of her hideout and quickly hid behind it. She planned on observing the situation and then acting.

The first warning sign was all the battle gear and weapons that basically made those cars. The second was that they pulled up by her hideout, she felt her chest tighten and adrenaline start pumping through her. And the third, final part that told her, screamed at her the word DANGER, was their appearance.

After what could have been seconds, her precious hideout was swarmed by young men and older boys. They looked very intimidating to her, white skin with dark patterns, bald heads, covered in scars with feral eyes and scruffy voices, they couldn't mean anything but danger.

On the other hand, food has been scarce, water non existent, she needed to get out of here and this might be her only chance.

Her mind, so young and naive, came up with a seemingly great idea. Stealthily, careful not to make any sound, she climbed under on of their armored cars. Luckily for her, there were places she could squeeze her her feet into and tubes she could hold onto. They would give her a ride, they just wouldn't know about it. And when she'd decide she wants to get off, she'll just let go.

Yeah, because that would work.

The moment they gained speed, she realized she was screwed. Panic settled in, but not only for this reason. The longer they went, the hotter the tubes she was holding were.

The pain was quickly becoming unbearable. She wanted to scream, but the fear of being found was stronger, so she could only cry silently.

It seemed like eternity before they stopped. Tho whole ride she had her eyes closed and teeth gritted, barely keeping quiet. Her feet and palms felt like she was on fire. Never in her life has she felt greater agony.

She opened her eyes, just a little bit, as if it would aid her in not being seen. The light seemed brighter than in her hideout. The car was on some sort of metal ramp, waiting for something. Thousands of people surrounded the ramp, trying to get on, but were held back by the ghost looking men.

With a jerk, the ramp started rising, much to her surprise. From her view, she saw heavy boots of the scary men and dirty mutated hands of the people trying to climb on. The heavy boots stomped on the hands, everyone was yelling, it was becoming too much and she was getting lightheaded.

The journey up wasn't really long, but the sudden change in light that came right after made her disoriented. It seemed like all the light suddenly dissapeared and darkness swallowed the world around her.

Her mind was in overdrive. It felt like all the pain had transfered from her limbs to her head, making her dizzy. Because of all the pain, she couldn't keep track of where the car was going. She was weak, panicking, lightheaded and disoriented, only a few steps before fainting.

A quiet gasp could be heard and she whipped her head in the direction of it. A small, bald head, with wide eyes was staring at her with shock written all over its face. A small boy, very similar to the older ghostly boys, was peeking under the car.

For a very awkward while, they just stared at each other, until the boy jerked. He was probably just scolded, because he dissapeared from her vision in a lightning speed. That didn't last long, because in no time, there wasn't just one, but two heads looking under the car.

It was in that moment that she felt something new, something different. All of a sudden, she felt energized, her body screamed at her what are you waiting for? Go!

With one mighty tug, in which she put a force so great she never knew where she had gotten in that moment, she ripped her limbs from the car a bolted from under it.

She didn't know where she was running. She just was. She didn't have the strength to think rationally, or at all. Her body focused everything on survival, like so many times before and shut her mind into a dark cell of adrenaline.

The only thing she could see were possible paths between the sea of white skinned, bald boys and the only thing she could hear were the yells and rapid footsteps of those chasing after her, which only resulted in her body producing more adrenaline.

For a while she thought she might even succeed, but just as she was getting her hopes up, she tripped.

One of the war boys not involved in the chase stuck his foot out and successfully tripped the little girl. She fell to the ground and the only thing she managed to do before blacking out was to roll on her back and with hooded gaze take one look at numerous people crouched down all around her.

Nobody ever told her how long was she out, she just woke up in a strange place. It was a cave and it was full of war boys, but unlike the other place she's seen here, these boys were sitting or laying down on stone benches, connected to people hanging upside down from the ceiling.

Her hands and feet were covered in bandages and she felt exhausted. Later on she found out the place was called the Organic mechanic's shop, it was a place where sick war boys that couldn't do war were being healed by a person called Organic mechanic, a strange man that creeped her out a little. He was a bit rough and it seemed like his mouth didn't have any filter, for he said everything that came to his mind, but she never had any problems with him.

It took a while and a lot of a strange cream the Organic mechanic made for her, but her palms and feet scarred without any complications and she was oficially healed. Before she even had the time to ask what was going to happen to her now, two war boys came over, hooked their arms under her armpits and started dragging her somewhere.

For a while she tried to struggle, but nothing happened, so she listened to her survival instinct and focused on where they were going and tried to remember the way.

They dragged her into a room, where there were three men waiting already. The first was a disgusting man, old and worn down by illnesses and the two behind him weren't any better, one couldn't breathe without a mask, much like the blonde one, and the other looked like a bearded baby.

She didn't understand at first, but the older she got, the more she realized how important meeting Immortan Joe and his sons was to her. But it went well, he was intrigued by her quick wit, and fortunately her third eye prevented her from becoming a wife. But the Immortan knew that casting her out would be a loss and so he let her stay, not that she tried to achieve that, but she was to become a war boy.

And that's how the torture began.

The war boys hierarchy was tough and climbing to the top hard. She started as a war pup. First they took her to a war boy, who shaved her head and caked a mixture of white clay and water on her skin. Then he dipped his fingers in what looked like motor oil and grease and smudged it around all her eyes. Then they took what little clothing she had and gave her shorts made from a rough fabric and bandaged her chest to cover her still underdeveloped breasts. Lastly, she was given a name. For her speed, quick thinking and wit they named her Weasle.

War pups, on the very bottom of the hierarchy, were taught to become war boys. The hard way. There was no teaching theory and then practice. You had to learn while working, because the war boys had to be ready at all times and there were loads and loads of work to do. From learning to fight, fixing cars, to helping tend to the sick or injured war boys and helping pulling up vehicles back from raiding and scavenging.

For any mistake they were bullied and beaten, so they wouldn't do it again. It was cruel, but it worked and Weasel was lucky that she was a quick learner.

The only time she got to rest was night. In the evening they all went to one big cave, war boys and pups alike, and slept there, huddled cuddled together to prevent the cold from reaching them. It was at times like these Weasel got to think about her life.

She wasn't happy. She ached all the time and the pain never stopped. Sometimes she thought that being dead would be much better than this. She worked hard for becoming a war boy, but what would it bring her? War boys bullied each other the same as they bullied the pups. Everybody, even they themselves knew that they were all very ill and would die much sooner than full lives. And nobody took them seriously, nobody ever treated her like her life mattered. She was sick of it all.

Tonight would be the night she'd end it all, she decided. She found a small window some time ago, big enough to climb through it. If she jumped from there nobody would care, she was just a face in the crowd. Just a number, a small wheel in the big machine that was Citadel. Yes, a machine. Human slaves producing, producing children, producing milk, producing warriors and god forbid if somebody didn't produce as much as they were supposed to.

Her small feet pattered through the nearly pitch black hallways, so silent were they that her footsteps sounded to her like thunder during the mighty storms. She shuddered at the memory. Storms were still the scariest thing, scarier than any war boy or pup. And nobody offered comfort when they came, because nobody probably even knew the word comfort.

Another pair of footsteps could be heard, created by feet similar to hers, they were running, running towards her and before she could even blink, she felt her body being tackled down.

She fell harshly on her stomach, hitting her chin on the hard stone. The other pup, because who else could it be, straddled her back and she could feel his smug grin as he watched her feeble attempts at getting from under him.

"And where do you think you're sneaking off to, huh?" he asked cockily. He flipped her on her back, his eyes going wide and his jaw dropping when he saw who exactly he caught. "It's none of your business!" Weasel snarled at him and thrashed wildly in his hold, so wildly in fact, he had trouble to keep her under him.

"You're...You're The Weasel!" he exclaimed, in awe. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, but stilled "Yeah, so?" "You're the one who sneaked in under one of the cars!" he jumped off her and grabbed one of her arms to take a look at the burn scars on her palms.

Watching this kid inspect the reminder of her injury with sparkling eyes ignited something warm inside her. Her eyes softened and she let him silently marvel over her scars.

After a few minutes, she broke her arm out of his hold "Right, I have places to be." and got up to walk away. He watched her for a few seconds, but quickly got up too and soon he caught up to her.

"What places?" he turned his head cutely to the side. She pondered quietly on how to answer him. "To see the stars." she decided and he didn't press the subject, content with the answer he got.

The rest of the way they walked silently, side by side. Coming to the window, first to climb out was Weasel, the pup right after her.

Turns out there's a small ledge outside, wide just enough to sit on. They sat, side by side, Weasel looking at the stars and the pup looking at Weasel. "Y'know, I never got your name." she said without taking her gaze away from the night sky. "It's Nux." the boy said, turning his head upwards, mimicking Weasel.

"What was it like?" he asked quietly "Riding a car." "It hurt. I haven't felt a pain greater than that." she whispered, bowing her head to look at her scars and he whipped his head to her with a shocked expression and a near silent wow escaping his lips.

They sat for another few minutes, when she felt another wave of hopelesness wash over her and she knew it was time.

Slowly,

shakilly,

she stood up,

Nux's gaze following her. "Be careful or you'll fall." he warned her softly. "I want to." she told him, tired of fighting and trying to forget how everything hurt.

Nux looked shocked, once again "What, why?" he asked with an unbelievable tone. Weasel shrugged "Everything hurts. I don't have a reason to live." she told him simply.

He frowned "That's stupid." Before she could get mad at him, Nux continued "How are you going to get to Valhalla then?"

Now it was her turn to be shocked "The what?" she asked, quirking her eyebrow, looking straight into his beautiful blue eyes. "Did nobody tell you?" At this she shook her head, confused.

Nux took a deep breath "The older war boys told me. We fight for the Immortan, because we are half lives. If we die historic on the Fury road, we spray chrome on our mouth, so we can enter Valhalla, where our half life is cured and we can live happily forever in the afterlife." he told her in one go.

Weasel frowned. She didn't want to die for old Joe. He didn't look like a saviour, she didn't trust him, why would she when he treated everyone the way he did? Nux caught her frown and asked "You don't want to get to Valhalla?"

"I don't want to die for Joe." Weasel said firmly. "Why?? Have you seen him? He's Immortan, the man who grabbed the sun!" Nux praised him, making a triangle from his hands. "Yes, I've seen him!" Weasel snapoed at him. The pup's eyes lit up like two little explosions "Really?? What's he like?" he asked excitedly.

"Illness ridden and he stinks." the girl said and stuck her tongue out at Nux. He giggled, thinking it was a joke "You're funny Weasel."

As the seconds ticked by, she realized something. Even though she didn't understand half the things Nux said about Valhalla, he called himself and everyone else a half life. She knew what that meant and he must've known too.

That could only mean he knew he was going to die, that they trained him to die. But Valhalla gave him comfort, just like to all war boys. And that was sad.

Just then, she didn't feel hatred towards war boys and war pups anymore, but sympathy. They craved the same thing she did- hope.

In that moment, she decided she wants to help them. If everyone wanted to treat them like they meant nothing, she wasn't going to. She was going to show them that their lives mattered, that they were the ones who Citadel stood on. That without them, everything would turn to ashes.

"Right, you convinced me." she told Nux and turned to climb back inside, the boy following closely behind.

As they walked back to the big cave to sleep again, she asked him "How did you know who I am?" Nux snickered "Everyone knows who you are. Being the only girl 'n all. Well, 'cept for Furiosa." and shrugged.

Furiosa was the only other girl that Weasel knew joined the war boys. She tried to befriend her, but seeing the look of disgust she sent Weasel's way made her want to throw up. So she just nodded and continued to walk silently.

At the entrance of the cave she grabbed Nux's hand, the first tiny part of her big plan already in action. "Can I stay with you?" she asked shyly, expecting to get kicked or punched for being soft, but he only nodded with a smile "At least we won't be cold."

[fcarher]

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all have witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

Mun Name: slug / ellie     Age: 19       Contact: IM, discord

Character(s) I rp: Yunaeisha Adynora, other demons from my lore Which muse(s) inspires you the most atm?(for MM): Yunaeisha Current Fandom(s): None really  Fandom(s) you have an AU for:  Naruto, PKMN, Magi, Gangsta, OPM, MHA, Hazbin Hotel & currently working on an ATLA verse My language(s): german, polish, italian, english   Themes I’m interested in for rp:   Fantasy / Science fiction / Horror / Western / Romance / Thriller / Mystery / Dystopia / Adventure / Modern / Erotic / Crime / Mythology / Classic / History / Renaissance / Medieval / Ancient / War / Family / Politics / Religion / School / Adulthood / Childhood / Apocalyptic / Gods / Sport / Music / Science / Fights / Angst / Smut / Drama / etc. Themes/Genres you have an AU for: highschool, modern & fantasy/medieval

Preferred Thread length: one-liner / 1 para / 2 para / 3+ / novella. Asks can be send by: Mutuals / Non-Mutuals / Personals / Anons. Can Asks be continued?:   YES / NO   only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO. Preferred thread type: crack / casual nothing too deep / serious / deep as heck. Is realism / research important for you in certain themes?:   YES / NO. Are you atm open for new plots?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Do you handle your draft / ask - count well?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. How long do you usually take to reply?:  24h / 1 week / 2 weeks / 3+ / months / years. I’m okay with interacting: original characters / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / my fandom / crossovers / multi-muses / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / canon-divergent portrayals / au-versions (as main or only verse). Do you post more ic or occ?:  IC / OOC. Are you selective with following others?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.  

Best ways to approach you for rp/plotting: the best way is just to straight up approach me. most often than not, just liking a post is not enough because it’s too vague ?? like if i post an idea & you like that, i’ll still be hesitant when it comes to roleplaying or approaching you because, while i appreciate such gestures, i’m just too anxious. therefore, plopping into my IMs without a properly fleshed out idea is also fine ! it, at least, gives me the hint that you’re actively seeking interaction. however, just saying “i want to roleplay & plot !” won’t cut it; at least, have something in mind, please !

What expectations do you hold towards your plotting partner:  basic ideas & pouring their heart into plotting! i don’t mind waiting, at all, so if you’re busy, don’t worry about keeping me waiting; i completely understand since i’m also often busy with work or university. but !! please don’t only come to me with the statement: “i want to plot!” it’s not gonna cut it & it’s not gonna help with a proper interaction, at all. if i approach someone, most often than not, i have SOME sort of idea in mind. but yeah, being passionate is the most important thing!

When you notice the plotting is rather one-sided, what do you do?:  most often than not, the conversation will die down because i will loose motivation; i don’t like it because i’ll feel like a bother & i shouldn’t feel that way when it comes to a hobby! therefore, one-sided plotting is one of my deal breakers; i usually end the conversation & there will be little to no interaction happening. like i said; i don’t mind waiting, i just hate that feeling of coming on TOO strong when my plotting partner delivers no input. 

How do you usually plot with others, do you give input or leave most work towards your partner?:  often than not, i start off with rather simple question like; are you interested in a certain verse ? do you already have something in mind ? if not, i will go through their about page & ask them things about their character & how that could possibly bring our characters to interact. sometimes, the about pages of a muse cannot give you every single bit of information; muses grow & change with each thread, therefore, it’s often better to just ask the people about their characters ! & from then on, it often just comes naturally. 

When a partner drops the thread, do you wish to know?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: if the thread is not THAT important or vital for our character’s relationship; i don’t mind & won’t need to know if the thread is dropped. sometimes, if it’s a heavily plotted thread & i’ve anticipated the interaction a lot; i’d appreciate a quick heads-up from my partner that they’re not feeling that certain thread any longer; i don’t mind that !! - What should your partner do when dropping a thread?: they don’t need to tell me; SOMETIMES, it’s just a nice gesture but most of the time, i don’t care, we can always start another thread !!

What could possibly lead you to drop a thread?:  many things can lead to me dropping a thread; just losing motivation, having no muse for a certain genre or simply having the feeling that my partner is not liking it, any longer (ex. extreme lack of trying to match the reply length ). my health & my schedule can also, sadly, affect my motivation, so, more often than not, i tend to drop shorter threads & keep longer ones.  - Will you tell your partner?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS.

Is communication in the rpc important to you?   YES / NO. - And why?:  i get anxious really fast if people stop replying for a very long time, out of the blue. it has happened to me once before with a good friend with whom i have no contact with any longer due to miscommunication & them not trying to communicate the issue with me; therefore, yes, it is very important. i wanna know if something is bothering you; i wanna know if you like something very much; i wanna know what’s up ! we’re humans & we’re adults; we can talk about this.  - Are you okay with absolute honesty, even if it may means hearing something negative about you and/or portrayal?:  yes ! as long as it is constructive criticism & not straight-up bashing my characters or lore; i’m all for it. i don’t mind hearing negative things; in fact, i appreciate the honesty & it gives me room to work on myself & my writing ! - Do you think you can handle such situation in a mature way?  YES / NO.

Why do you rp again, is there a goal?:  building relationships that LAST & exploring my muses through & through; it is amazing how much yuna has grown through interactions with others; how different she has become from the yuna i once started out with; it’s almost been a year now & it’s just amazing. however, i’m not stopping anytime soon; THERE IS SO MUCH MORE I WANT TO EXPLORE !! the ultimate goal is for me to just look at my blog & be completely proud of what i have accomplished & written; i want fleshed out relationships & threads; deep stuff !!

Wishlist, be it plots or scenarios:  yuna talking with someone about her struggles; mentally & physically. being open about her abusive father & how it has traumatized her & painted men in the worst picture one could imagine. HOWEVER; a hard thing because i don’t want these things to be pre-est or something; i want a thread where there is struggling, screams, conflict ! it is rather hard to find someone, though, who is willing & fitting to go onto that long journey with me & yuna. also, i’d love to write about darker stuff; i love fluff, though, sometimes i sure want a bit of that, too. 

Themes I won’t ever rp / explore:  the only things i won’t rp or explore are stated in my rules; ex. pedophilia, rape & really descriptive animal abuse. killing, torture, gore as well as cheating, heartbreak or toxic relationships are okay, while i do prefer to have a deeper bond with someone while exploring the latter & be communicating the whole time; i think these are really REAL topics & that’s why i wouldn’t mind exploring them because it does happen, more than one would like them to happen. however, if i see you, the mun, glorifying or romanticizing these; just no. 

What Type of Starters do you prefer / dislike, can’t work with?: i like everything with some sort of substance; i love short ones as much as long ones, nevertheless, you have to give me something to work with. yuna would ignore anyone not of any interest or value to her; therefore, if your muse just asks her random questions, the interaction will go nowhere. if you’re unsure; just ask !!

What type of characters catch your interest the most?: i love characters with uniqueness to them; it can be a certain interest, certain appearance or their species can be totally unique to them; i’ll love it ! i do have a thing for villains, though; always had, even when i was young 8^) so, dark, stubborn & “evil” characters catch my interest far more than a really nice muse who just is all smiles all day. i love a muse that can kick mine & yuna’s ass, basically. someone with strong morals or who is just really set on their beliefs can also offer conflict which i ADORE !! i need it; i live for it !!

What type of characters catch your interest the least?:  really kind & unbothered muses who are self-sacrificing, perfect & loved by everyone for no reason ?? idk, i just think it’s bad writing. everyone has flaws; no one is perfect ! 

What are your strong aspects as rp partner?:  i am a very open person who will talk with you about anything & is keen on exploring our character’s relationship at all times & through all means; i often send my rp partners prompts in form of my yuna just being her dumb-self or through memes ! i will constantly think about our characters & will try to have them interact as much as possible. i am, most of the time, very active & respond to the threads fairly quickly ! if i am totally invested; you’ll get everything you want; a moodboard, an edit, a drawing, etc. i literally pour my heart & soul into every bond my muse has; i live for them. oh !! i also love asking people question about their characters; i just love learning new things about them !! 

What are your weak aspects as rp partner?: i’m very slow out of character; i don’t approach muns a lot because i’m scared to be a bother, working on it ! i often ramble a lot & my writing can become a bit convoluted & hard to understand, i apologize ! i tend to not message people on discord as often as i’d like to; mostly because i’m really socially awkward or just don’t think that what i want to show to them is THAT important. i’m not as straight-forward as i wish myself to be; however, even with all that; i still have a lot of fun & am acknowledging & actively working on my weak aspects ! 

Do you rp smut?:  YES / NO. Do you prefer to go into detail?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Are you okay with black curtain?:  YES / NO. - When do you rp smut? More out of fun or character development?:  often, it is because i want to develop the relationship or yuna’s character; she’s a very sexual being who hardly connects to someone emotionally; therefore, writing sex & exploring the vulnerability behind it can be really beautiful ! though, fun is also involved !  - Anything you would not want to rp there?:  non-consensual stuff is a no-go ! also, certain kinks that make me uncomfortable are also off the table; ex. anything involving bodily fluids other than spit. 

Are ships important to you?:   YES / NO. Would you say your blog is ship-focused?:   YES / NO. Do you use read more?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Are you: Multi-Ship / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  Multiverse / Singleverse. - What do you love to explore the most in your ships?:  i love the conflicts the most; clashing ideals or just two stubborn muses arguing for the heck of it is really fun & can develop the relationship beautifully ! yuna is a person who likes someone that can be properly fought with, verbally here. but of course, i also adore the very soft moments!! i love meaningless fluff; it warms my heart.  - What is your smut tag?: SINFUL.

Are you okay with pre-established relationships?: YES / NO. - And what kind of ones?: nothing TOO drastic; a friendship, a rivalry is a-okay ! however, i’m very hesitant when it comes to having pre-est. romantic relationships; though, you can quickly change my mind if you pour your soul into the plotting; then i’m fine with it ! everything that needs time when writing also needs time when plotting; don’t just straight up jump into something if you’re not able to give it your all.

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- What could possibly make your Muse interesting towards others, why should they rp with this particular character of yours now, what possible plots do they offer?:  i think yuna is a person with whom it is easy to form relationships with; it takes a bit of time but due to her rather drastic ideals & opinions; anything can be founded within seconds. she doesn’t hold back when it comes to her honesty & conflicts will arise. also, for all muses with demonic or deity backgrounds; being a daughter of the literal queen of hell, though, also harboring fragments of a god’s soul makes her unique in the supernatural world which can spark interest with your character or even they can develop an ill-will towards her ? i think it’s really interesting exploring what makes one work & go on & yuna has the philosophical potential to tickle that out of your muse; she question EVERYTHING. now for certain plots; one-sided love or even friendships are always really interesting, especially when she is the one having such feelings. other than that; she has enormous & dangerous powers; so if you’re into character or world-building; can offer that as well !

- With what type of Muses do you usually struggle to rp with?:  humans; she doesn’t approach humans who are just kind & have nothing to offer for her, the least she’d do is have sex with them or kill them to harvest their life energy. i’m sorry but she really does hate all of humanity & to change that opinion ? man, you must be the most stubborn person ever.  - With what type of Muses do they usually work well with?:  characters who are of supernatural or demonic nature; she’ll be very interested & even nosy to a point. also, very attractive characters who are not afraid to speak their mind; she’s really superficial most of the time & will flirt with anything that she deems good-looking. muses who have ideals that contrast hers or that are similar to her but also, generally, people who are open-minded. 

- What interests your Muse(s) in general:  sex, parties, plants & flowers, astronomy, writing, demons & hell, the underground scene, killing, knives & playing the piano - What do they desire, is their goal?:  the questions that bother her the most are; why did her mother had to die ? why would nobody help her while she was being abused by her father ? why was she kept alive by her sisters ? is there love out there for someone like her ? what do these strange visions mean that occur almost every night ? she has a lot of things she wants to experience & wishes to have a normal life once she has killed her other mother, lilith, which is her ultimate goal, at the moment.  - What catches their interest first when meeting someone new?:  their appearance; the scent of their blood & if it differs from humans; how they react towards her & what they do in front of her.  - What do they value in a person?:    strong opinions, loyalty, good looks, humor, strength (not limited to physical strength) - What themes do they like talking about?:  herself or the world & the state of it; she likes being philosophical with some, can often be somewhat self-centered; THOUGH; it is almost always for her to see how they would react to that. 

- Which themes bore them?:  love & drama; she does not care a lot for gossip or anything relating to it; the topic of love, no matter in which sense, is always brushed off because she just doesn’t find any appeal in it. 

- Did they ever went through something traumatic?:  Being the reason her own mother committed suicide; Her father & sister abusing her all her life, spouting lies & beating her until she could stand no more while her other sisters would watch & do nothing, even though, they were supposed to support each other; laewa, one of her sisters, fancying the idea of killing yuna for the greater good; two of her best friends turning on her when they find out she’s not human & then being killed right in front of her eyes; her one & only boyfriend protecting her from a demon hunter & being killed in the process - What could possibly trigger them?:  loud sudden noises; making fun of her attachment to her late ex-boyfriend, being awfully nice to her, the sight of any dog or wolf, tender touches (esp. her back being touched), being alone with her thoughts for far too long  - What could set them off, enrage them?:  people who make fun of her & her powers; calling her a monster; not understanding her pain when she opens up; purposefully touching her back or any other scarred skin, being nosy  - What could lead to an instant kill?:  you are a demon hunter that does not show remorse when killing demons with a consciousness, trying to kill her, killing one of her comrades 

- Is there someone /-thing they hate?:  Keela Adynora, Myra Adynora (Father, Sister), the other D.O.L.s, EYES’ superiors (the organization she works for), Humans, Lilith - Is there someone /-thing they love?:  Evelin Adynora (Her biological mother)

Is your Muse easy to approach?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?: If you’re not quite human or are a demon, you could literally stand next to her & be silent; she’ll become curious on her own. other than that; be interesting or flirt with her; just do something that does not involve small talk; she hates that.  - Where are they usually to find?:  strip club (her workplace), bars, clubs, clearings within a forest, nice areas that are full of trees & plants; a roof-top

Something you may still want to point out about your muse?:  Yuna is basically pandora’s box personified; she may seem nice & attractive from the outside but within her are sleeping demons that only wait to be awakened. & withal, she is still a cutie who will become your number one supporter & protector if you manage to build a proper relationship with. it’s hard to get through that shell & what awaits is NOT that pretty but with years upon years of abuse, neglect & shit being thrown her way; it’s not easy being a carefree immortal. 

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by:  @skyvar , i srsly love these so much, snow !! thank you for tagging me <3 i had so much fun 8′)  Tagging:  @thevvolf ; @nezumi-vc-103221 ; @empiia ; @dvojakyvlk ; @childrenxfthemoon ; @hensetsu​​ ; @goldempire​​ ; @animatedatrophy​ ; @talonness​ ; @shikkotsunin​ ; @wcrthlessanimal​ & anyone else !! 

[pacifv]

HE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all have witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

Mun Name: Mik      Age: 26      Contact: IM, discord

Character(s) I rp: Eden ( in bleach ) -- I have other ocs but that’s another story Which muse(s) inspires you the most atm?(for MM): Eden... ? Current Fandom(s): Bleach , so far Fandom(s) you have an AU for:  more fantasy esque ones?  My language(s): spanish , english  Themes I’m interested in for rp:   Fantasy / Science fiction / Horror / Western / Romance / Thriller / Mystery / Dystopia / Adventure / Modern / Erotic / Crime / Mythology / Classic / History / Renaissance / Medieval / Ancient / War / Family / Politics / Religion / School / Adulthood / Childhood / Apocalyptic / Gods / Sport / Music / Science / Fights / Angst / Smut / Drama / etc. Themes/Genres you have an AU for: fantasy , religious

Preferred Thread length: one-liner / 1 para / 2 para / 3+ / novella. Asks can be send by: Mutuals / Non-Mutuals / Personals / Anons. Can Asks be continued?:   YES / NO   only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO. Preferred thread type: crack / casual nothing too deep / serious / deep as heck. Is realism / research important for you in certain themes?:   YES / NO. Are you atm open for new plots?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Do you handle your draft / ask - count well?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. How long do you usually take to reply?:  24h / 1 week / 2 weeks / 3+ / months / years. I’m okay with interacting: original characters / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / my fandom / crossovers / multi-muses / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / canon-divergent portrayals / au-versions (as main or only verse). Do you post more ic or occ?:  IC / OOC. Are you selective with following others?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.  

Best ways to approach you for rp/plotting:  IM since this is pretty much new . just slap me with that and if you have some ideas , better --- if not let just brainstorm with what we have in hand . 

What expectations do you hold towards your plotting partner:  some minimal idea of the context and eden’s character . some ideas if possible . more than often I have gotten people straight up jump with no clue of what even is going on in my side character wise . 

When you notice the plotting is rather one-sided, what do you do?:  depends , most likely really stop trying or let it sink . I’m not much of a person who would pressure for ideas when they don’t even come naturally for me in these kind of situations . 

How do you usually plot with others, do you give input or leave most work towards your partner?:  First of all , ask what they particularly want and if they read the bio . and of course , have their bio as well ( if oc or any relevant hc on vague canons ) . I am honestly a bit shy on the input but if I found a ground to start letting my imagination loose ( like , something in common between characters or something that clicks well with my muse ) I can suggest several things . but in any case , I’m pretty passive and it’s a lot of gives and takes . 

When a partner drops the thread, do you wish to know?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: depends on the thread , the time and the interest . things that go downtown in the excitement scale are :/  and I can’t blame anyone for dropping a thread . not all the time you will have muse for them , tho , if it was a relevant thread I would ask at least . - What should your partner do when dropping a thread?:  pretty much free to tell me or not . I’m no one to judge.

What could possibly lead you to drop a thread?:  losing muse , interest , time ... pretty much the same . feeling like my muse is going too OOC for the sake of the other muse or smth .  - Will you tell your partner?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS.

Is communication in the rpc important to you?   YES / NO. - And why?:  I am very old school and having some OOC interaction to at least know how things are going , it’s as much as I can ask here .  - Are you okay with absolute honesty, even if it may means hearing something negative about you and/or portrayal?:  I mean , I should . it can turn me off a bit but it’s just natural ? there’s no way something can be perfect or be of someone’s taste . plus I am not that smart to be fully aware of all the things around the motif and IRL information I use on my muse . I’m no book , buddy. - Do you think you can handle such situation in a mature way?  YES / NO.

Why do you rp again, is there a goal?:  development , exploring the muse , seeing what works and doesn’t work . often new blogs for me are basically prototypes , they are and will  most likely have minor or major modifications as my imagination starts working and getting excited . besides , in the basics , you can hardly manage to cover all ( if anything ) of how one’s muse would react to X situation .

Wishlist, be it plots or scenarios:  a lot of quincy lore , come up with more personal connections with other quincies , fully develop a backstory and a post war scenario . cultural exploration  --- relationships of all kinds . 

Themes I won’t ever rp / explore:  pretty much I am fine with anything as long as we don’t cross the gross line . but I’m not afraid of the dark .

What Type of Starters do you prefer / dislike, can’t work with?: absurdly basic and with no context given . not even have an idea of what is the deal between muses . I can squeeze my brain but there is as much as i can do with little information .

What type of characters catch your interest the most?:  quirky ones , conflictive ones , most likely muses with specific motifs that spark my interest -- deepness . Aesthetically interesting ones . but overall , those who have out of the normal personalities . 

What type of characters catch your interest the least?:  personalities that doesn’t work or do not harmonize with the context of their characters . that’s all I can say .

What are your strong aspects as rp partner?:  I am.... creative ? gdi I did this meme already but it’s hard to reply these two ones. I am easily excitable . if we end up in a ship , expect me to be pampering af . I really enjoy the exploration of relations between people , emotions and psychological stuff tied around it . I do like casual and also very deep things . I’m not afraid of dealing with heavy topics . I like horror ???? also I am very into the secondary character role , as in : my muse is here to help your muse to grow or insight . that stuff . not much of a protagonist role in RPs. 

What are your weak aspects as rp partner?: I’m .... very.... sporadic . My mood is annoying esp when I’m “new” blog around kind of thing . I’m shy , even if I don’t seem so --- I get pretty anxious over details . I am impatient --- with myself . I want to do so many things at the same time I end up overwhelmed . 

Do you rp smut?:  YES / NO. Do you prefer to go into detail?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Are you okay with black curtain?:  YES / NO. - When do you rp smut? More out of fun or character development?:  mmmmmmmmm , both. Depends on mood and context tbh . - Anything you would not want to rp there?:  nothing I can think from the top of my head.

Are ships important to you?:   YES / NO. Would you say your blog is ship-focused?:   YES / NO. Do you use read more?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Are you: Multi-Ship / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  Multiverse / Singleverse. - What do you love to explore the most in your ships?:  again , I’m big mood for interpersonal relationships ( romantic or not ) , the pros and cos of certain traits , ideology clash , personality clash , anything that comes in a relation that could make it come and go .  - What is your smut tag?: unholy.

Are you okay with pre-established relationships?: YES / NO. - And what kind of ones?: all are hella okay for me . pre- est is my jam bc jesus christ the awkward first encounters make me go blue screen .

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- What could possibly make your Muse interesting towards others, why should they rp with this particular character of yours now, what possible plots do they offer?:  the fact she is basically a “religious fanatic” , with a quirky personality and a questionable morality , considering she has an inner conflict between the wellness of her race and her loyalty towards yhwach . At least pre war . post war , she has a flipped personality were she is mostly bitter and more angsty but will go from fanatic to straight up hater . 

- With what type of Muses do you usually struggle to rp with?:   bland personalities ? not sure myself , Eden is pretty much ready for anything since her personality is pretty laid back . I guess I would say shinigamis in general --- since she basically is stuck inside Silbern . - With what type of Muses do they usually work well with?:  Quincies , ofc . and people who are willing to put up with her crap .

- What interests your Muse(s) in general:  the prosperity of the quincy , doing a proper duty , order , tea , annoying the fuck out of people . being eerie ....  - What do they desire, is their goal?:  the ideal world as thought by Yhwach --- later on simply for her kind to survive after losing the war and being left to their luck . - What catches their interest first when meeting someone new?:  mmm , appearance  and reactions to her witty or narcisistic comments .  - What do they value in a person?:    loyalty , uniqueness . - What themes do they like talking about?:  most likely about the order of the army , tea stuff , herself (?) , but she is also a lot for debates and insight . - Which themes bore them?:  rebellious , silly thoughts . justice related topics . anything that critics her loyalty/life style . 

- Did they ever went through something traumatic?:  the first war was enough ? most likely losing comrades --- yhwach sacrificing the quincy for power later on .  - What could possibly trigger them?:  the simple sight of anyone laying a finger of the quincy for being against their views .   - What could set them off, enrage them?:  nothing. she cannot literally , physically get angry or enraged . but if we are talking bitter , that would be completely post war and it’s just the mention of yhwach’s name or those who went to god’s palace with him .  - What could lead to an instant kill?:  invasion of silbern , chaos . 

- Is there someone /-thing they hate?:  chaos , rebels , shinigami , anyone against the quincy . - Is there someone /-thing they love?:   her race , her pride , herself .

Is your Muse easy to approach?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?:  just .... come to her and say hi . she is literally wandering around silbern all the time ( quincy speaking tho ) . for others , eh ... good luck . and wait post war (?) - Where are they usually to find?:  Silbern ... then Siberia . 

Something you may still want to point out about your muse?:  She is no saint , clearly . She has a questionable sense of things like loyalty and preservation of her race . she is honestly all over the place

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by:  honestly stole from @skyvar​  Tagging:  no one in particular.

[so-shiny-so-chrome]

Witness: Battle_Cat

Creator name (AO3): battle_cat

Creator name (Tumblr): fuckyeahisawthat

Link to creator works: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battle_cat/works

Q: Why the Mad Max Fandom?

A: Fury Road blew my goddamn mind. I like action movies and female action protagonists, but nothing has ever quite hit me like Fury Road. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had never written fanfic and didn't know what ao3 was, but the characters just wouldn't leave my head. I started seeking out meta on Tumblr, and many of the people who were writing and sharing great meta were also writing fic, and at some point I started thinking, hey, this is a thing I can do. And then I did it, A LOT.

Q: What do you think are some defining aspects of your work? Do you have a style? Recurrent themes?

A: Smut smut and more smut, lol! And sometimes action. I really like writing about intense physical experiences and the emotions they generate. I come from a screenwriting background, so I tend to be terse and am always thinking about how to say the most with the fewest words possible. I love writing characters who find it very hard to talk about their feelings, so Max and Furiosa are pretty much perfect for me.

Q: Which of your works was the most fun to create? The most difficult? Which is your most popular? Most successful? Your favourite overall?

A: Ahhh I can't pick between all of my children! AO3 statistics says Zero to Sixty, my Max-and-Furiosa-get-together fic, is my most popular by hits, kudos and bookmarks, which is not surprising given that it was written early in the fandom. I don't think I can pick a favorite but I have a lot of love for: Desperate Measures, Her Reputation Precedes Her, Hard Run, Tough to be Tender, and Scarf Thing. The only fic I'm still slightly unhappy with: Equinox. I feel like I set up some great tension and then wrapped it up too quickly.

Q: How do you like your wasteland? Gritty? Hopeful? Campy? Soft? Why?

A: Hard but with some humanity left still.

Q: Walk us through your creative process from idea to finished product. What's your prefered environment for creating? How do you get through rough patches?

A: Most of my short pieces are really just a single scene, sometimes with setup and aftermath. Sometimes I'll start with an image (like one of @youkaiyume's excellent smut drawings) or a concept or idea for the scene. Something short, like under 2,000 words, I will ideally sit down and write in one draft, maybe in a day or two. I don't do a lot of drafts, although I do somewhat edit as I go. Something longer like a multi-chapter fic, I usually have a separate Word document with notes and a very rough outline. I usually have the ending or the big climactic scene in my head before I've got everything in the middle figured out. If I'm struggling with something, I'll usually step away and just let my brain chew on it for a while, until I figure out what about it isn't working for me. I learned in grad school that your brain can be doing a lot of creative heavy lifting while you're off doing other things.

Q: What (if any) music do you listen to for help getting those creative juices flowing?

A: I'm not much of a music person, tbh. I have gotten inspiration from fanart, Tumblr submissions and kinkmeme prompts, though.

Q: What is your biggest challenge as a creator?

A: Finding enough time and energy to write. I'm someone who needs big chunks of time to let my brain get into the creative state and this whole having to have a job thing is a real drag.

Q: How have you grown as a creator through your participation in the Mad Max Fandom? How has your work changed? Have you learned anything about yourself?

A: When I saw Fury Road, I had been in a serious writing drought for the better part of a year. I was frustrated and feeling very hopeless about the filmmaking world. Even under the best of conditions, filmmaking is an incredibly slow process with a lot of gatekeepers. Being able to just write something, put it on ao3 and get instant feedback was an incredible breath of fresh air. I remembered my love of writing and found a whole new creative community. I started exploring a new genre, erotica, and learned that I love it. I started writing prose again after a long period of focusing on screenwriting, and gained a new appreciation for what can be done in the short story format.

Q: Which character do you relate to the most, and how does that affect your approach to that character? Is someone else your favourite to portray? How has your understanding of these characters grown through portraying them?

A: Furiosa is the character who lives in my head most vividly. She has a lot of characteristics I tend to put in my original female characters: a certain ruthlessness and hardness; hypercompetence combined with standoffishness punctuated by a few key moments of vulnerability.

Q: Do you ever self-insert, even accidentally?

A: I don't really like talking about characters as self-inserts. I think every character has some part of you in them whether you're aware of it or not.

Q: Do you have any favourite relationships to portray? What interests you about them?

A: Maxiosa for sure. I already had a pattern before Fury Road of writing hard women and caring men, so Furiosa and Max fit right into that. They are both incredibly damaged people who have been the victims and the perpetrators of violence, have a lot of self-loathing, have been isolated in various ways for a long time, and are used to having no one to trust. Bringing those two people together and watching them slowly allow themselves to trust each other is very powerful.

Q: How does your work for the fandom change how you look at the source material?

A: Fury Road is an incredibly rich text and there are so many things that are only hinted at, left unexplained or implied. I've lost count of how many times I've watched it at this point, but there are always more details to notice and spin headcanons about.

Q: Do you prefer to create in one defined chronology or do your works stand alone? Why or why not?

A: For MMFR, I started out writing mostly short smutty one-shots. At a certain point it made sense to start stringing them together, and the ones that take place in the same timeline are now roughly in order in the series Together. It happened organically, though - I tend to write my longer stories non-chronologically anyway, so at some point I realized I was constructing a giant smut novel.

Q: To break or not to break canon? Why?

A: Ehn, I am pretty agnostic on this. Sometimes sticking to canon can be a fun limitation you impose on your story. Other times, ignoring it can be a fun what-if.

Q: Share some headcanons.

A: Ace definitely lived. Nux definitely died historic. Valkyrie is alive in some of my stories and not in others. Dag's baby is a girl and she names her Angharad. Max comes and goes from the Citadel, staying for increasingly longer periods of time. Furiosa often wants to leave, but feels too much responsibility to the new Citadel to ever let herself.

Q: If you work with OCs walk us through your process for creating them. Who are some of your favourites?

A: I haven't created a lot of OCs in the Mad Max world because the canon characters are just so interesting to explore. But when I do they just kind of pop up. Biltong from the story Her Reputation Precedes Her is a personal favorite.

Q: If you create original works, how do those compare to your fan works?

A: My original works are mostly on the action/thriller/horror spectrum. I had never written smut before MMFR, but to me, it's very similar to writing action. You're telling a story through high-intensity physicality and the emotions surrounding it. In my original works, I mostly write female protagonists in high-intensity situations, so it made sense that MMFR would catch my attention.

Q: What are some works by other creators inside and outside of the fandom that have influenced your work?

A: @primarybufferpanel 's Orbit was my fandom gateway drug. @primarybufferpanel, @sacrificethemtothesquid, @lurkinghistoric, @v8roadworrier, @thebyrchentwigges, @thatonezombiecosplayer, @youkaiyume, @ecouter-bien , @bethagain, @fadagaski and @yohunny have all created things that I find inspiring, epic, thrilling, heartbreaking, hot, funny or all of the above. And I'm lucky that I've gotten to know many of them online and in meatspace!

Q: What advice can you give someone who is struggling to make their own works more interesting, compelling, cohesive, etc.? 

A: Stop and ask yourself: What does this character want? Why are they doing what they're doing right now? Concretely, what are they trying to achieve? What are the obstacles? What are the consequences if they don't get what they want? If a scene or story isn't working for me, usually it's because I don't know the answer to one of these questions.

Q: Have you visited or do you plan to visit Australia, Wasteland Weekend, or other Mad Max place?

A: I've been to Wasteland Weekend 3 times (2016, '17, '18) with Clan of the Boltcutters, and plan to go again in 2019. It's been so cool watching our camp and the festival grow and change each year. I had never been to anything remotely like Wasteland before I got involved in the Mad Max fandom, and now I can't imagine it not being part of my year. Australia...maybe someday.

Q: Tell us about a current WIP or planned project.

A: While I've been writing in the Venom fandom lately, I do plan to come back at some point and finish Closer, a story I really liked writing that I just haven't gotten time to get back to. I also have a few lingering MMFR projects that will hopefully be completed later this year.

Thank you @fuckyeahisawthat

[softfics9]

To: The One who Inspires Me

Fandom; VIXX

Main Pairing; Han Sanghyuk|Hyuk/Reader,  Han Sanghyuk|Hyuk/You

Side Pairings; None

Summary;  I'm writing you this letter because you're coming back and I haven't spoken to you in 4 years, so here's all my feelings on paper.

Genre; Fluff

Trigger Warnings; None

Author Notes; I originally was planning on doing this for Ken but that changed like a paragraph into the fic so yeah. Again this is written as a letter to the reader, the oc is gender non-specific and sexuality is not specified. This was supposed to be a two chapter work but I lost my inspiration so we have one. 

Beta’d; No

Cross-posted on; AO3

To; The One who Inspired Me.

I still remember the first day we met. You were so shy, looking down at the ground as if it was the most interesting thing you had ever seen. It was easy to see how nervous you were, with your hands clenched into fists, slightly hidden by the sleeves of your jumper. When our manager said your name you jumped, ears turning red as you realised this was it. I never will forget how scared you looked, the fear in your eyes was enough to make my heart break.

You introduced yourself to us again, although it wasn’t necessary, your tongue struggling to form the words and your bow so perfectly straight, an exact ninety degree angle.

We all introduced ourselves in turn, I was last, being the maknae. You took your time to observe all of our faces, nodding and obviously trying hard to remember them all. Our manager explained that you only had very basic Korean, you looked so embarrassed at this, like you wanted the ground to swallow you up. Since none of us had great English, we would have to use translation apps or English speaking staff to help us communicate. You swallowed hard, your cheeks now turning red to match your ears and the converse you wore on your feet. We all smiled encouragingly, even Leo-hyung, all the members would make sure you felt as comfortable as we possibly could during your stay.

You were taken away after introductions were finished, our manager was going to give you a tour of the building and organise your schedule. We went straight back to rehearsal, our debut was getting closer every day and it was very important we had everything perfect. Four hours later I collapsed on the ground with my other VIXX members, it had been a gruelling practice, drilling every point to be as clean as possible. I knew the air would be tense in the dorm tonight, it always was after days like these where our tempers grew short.

They told us that you had already gone back to the dorm to sleep, your flight had only landed this morning and you had been awake for over 40 hours.

In the car on the way back there wasn’t much talk, only asking what everyone thought of you, and how we felt about you being thrown into our lives at such short notice. Everyone noticed how frightened you were, and Ken-hyung made us all promise that we would do our best to help you feel as comfortable as possible. Of course we all agreed instantly, we all knew how you felt. As I looked out the window at the night scenery, I thought back to the conversation we had with the company CEO, when he told us you would be coming.

“They won an international contest to come to Korea and train like an idol for three months, by far they were the best dancer, best singer, and their visuals are nothing to be scoffed at either. You will have to make space in your dorm because they will be staying with you, and they will also be attending some of your dance and vocal lessons. Please make sure they feel welcome here, I have a strong belief they have all the qualities required to make it in this industry, just like you six.”

What were we to say to that, ten days’ notice of your arrival was all the warning we were given. It was a huge curveball thrown at us, but we were determined it would not distract us from our training. We were going to debut as a group and we were going to make our small little company famous.

When we arrived back in the dorm on the night of your arrival, there was a bright yellow post-it note stuck to the door. It looked like a child had written it with a shaky hand, but we understood that you must have been nervous and exhausted, the foreign alphabet difficult to grasp. There was only one mistake in your note, surprisingly enough, but we understood what you were trying to say.

“I have been instructed to take the furthest bedroom from the door as my own. I apologise if that has caused you any inconvenience. I will be awake for breakfast at 7am sharp. Thank you for accepting me, please look after me well.” I cooed at how cute you sounded, even in a note. Since you were my dongsaeng I swore to protect you as any big brother should.

We all went to bed almost immediately, I say almost because truthfully, we all peeked in to your room to check you were sleeping. The sight was enough to melt even the coldest of hearts, (I heard Leo-hyung aww softly). You were curled up in a tiny little ball, blankets clutched closely to your chest, and although there was still tension in your face, you looked more at peace then you had earlier.

I dreamed of you that night, the two of us were winning trophies for our debut stages, grinning madly and jumping around holding hands.

The next morning we were exhausted but also apprehensive of what the day would bring. But we didn’t have any reason to worry. As I entered our kitchen, I smelled the most wonderful things. You had made us all pancakes, with freshly squeezed orange juice and berries. My jaw dropped when I looked at everything, it was only 7.05 but you had it all basically finished. When you saw me standing there, you immediately dropped into your perfect bow, greeting me so formally I thought it was too much.

I very quickly told you that you didn’t need to be so formal, just honorifics would be enough for me. You blushed and agreed readily, and then apologised for any mistakes you might make when addressing me in formal language. Your sentences were halting, you seemed to have problems with certain words and mispronounced a few things. But I understood, I just smiled and nodded that it was alright. The other members joined us shortly afterwards, and you repeated the same bow and apology to them. N-hyung assured you we wouldn’t hold it against you, which you understood after referring to your pocket dictionary (which was adorable by the way).

After the awkwardness of the first few days, we all seemed to relax with each other much more. Your Korean improved very quickly, although it was still easy to tell you were a foreigner. But the language barrier didn’t seem to matter, not when we were laughing at the ridiculous charades Hongbin-hyung tried to do to get his point across, not when you had to keep asking Ravi-hyung to slow down when he spoke because you couldn’t understand a word he was saying. The difficulties in communicating faded quickly, as we developed ways of explaining without using complex words or sentence structure, and your notebook of new words filled up so fast we had to go out and buy you two more.

I understood why you were the chosen winner, even though your Korean wasn’t great, your talent was undeniably amazing. When you sang it was like listening to a choir of angels, so bright and powerful, and when you danced it was like watching music in motion. You could connect to a song and move in ways I hadn’t thought possible before, telling stories through your movements, leaving everyone speechless. You were breath-taking, I could never stop watching you.

You had a unique connection with each of the members of VIXX.

N-hyung acted like your mother, always making sure you had eaten and were getting enough rest, insisting you drank plenty of water and checking that you understood what was going on.

Leo-hyung was your rock, a silent companion when you were feeling so overwhelmed by the stress and the intense schedule, he made you feel secure and was your shoulder to cry on.

What you and Ken-hyung had can only be described as chaos, peals of laughter ringing through the air as he done his latest impression or decided a tickle fight was the best way to relieve some of your stress. I never heard a laugh as joyous as yours before, and I haven’t since.

Ravi-hyung was your musical mentor, when you eventually were able to understand him, he coached you through the rhythm and pronunciation of songs, often helping you with translations.

I was most jealous of your connection with Hongbin-hyung, you two always seemed to be off in your own world together, quietly discussing matters that I still do not know of. Two of the most beautiful people I had ever met, sitting together and smiling, it was enough to make anyone swoon.

But I feel like the connection we had was special, maybe it was because I was the closest in age to you, but you seemed most comfortable when you were with me (it might have been just wistful thinking on my behalf though). You always stayed with me late at night in the practice room to go over the dance again, or to practice vocals. We didn’t just work however, often our nights ended up with us both rolling on the floor in stitches over the least funny things. Sometimes we even went out to get lunch together, and those moments when it was just the two of us, were the times I felt most at ease with the world. You made me so happy, I could almost forget my looming debut deadline.

Soon enough though, the time for your departure arrived. It seemed like it had just crept up on us all of a sudden. One day the six of us were joking about in the studio taking a break, cracking up over your still often stilted Korean sentences. Then the next, we were all waving you a very tearful goodbye as you made your way towards the gate in the airport, you were going home. We didn’t know if we would ever see you again.

Even though you had made incredible progress with your language, and your dancing and singing skills were well up to scratch, CEO felt that the Korean people weren’t ready for an international idol just yet. We all cried that night, me more than the others, the last whispered words of “Goodbye Han Sanghyuk, remember me” floating around in my head. I hugged you so tightly I felt I would break you, but you squeezed back just as tight, expelling all the air from my lungs.

One week later we had our debut, gaining love from hundreds of fans, there was only one international fan. It was you, and it made my heart swell with joy to know you had watched us perform, you saw what all our hard work had finally come to.

I wish I had stayed in touch with you these last four years, but as the numbers of our fans increased, and our schedules became more hectic, I couldn’t find the time to search for your comments. I knew you were still there, or at least I had always hoped you were. I never forgot about you though, in times of great stress I would think of you. The way your smile reached up to your eyes and brightened up the whole room, how your laugh would stay echoing in my ear for hours after I heard it, the way you sang sad songs until your eyes filled with tears, and how you danced until you had nothing left to give.

Thoughts of you pushed me to better myself, you inspired me. I wanted to make you proud, wherever in the world you were.

So I’m writing this letter to you, after our manager announced you would be visiting us for one week after we finish our promotions for Kratos. I wanted to put all these feelings on to paper, so that you could read them and know my thoughts. There is nothing I want more in this world, than to see you again, and to rekindle the connection we had before.

I am slightly changed since we met last, I am a lot taller and stronger (fans have taken to calling me “ManHyuk” or sometimes even “The Incredible Hyulk”). My voice and dancing has definitely improved, and I am no longer afraid of my hyungs like I was before. I hope you still see me as who I really am, and I hope you have not forgotten me.

From; The One who (thinks he) Loves You.

P.S. You still owe me a coffee after you kicked mine over during one of your tickle fights with Ken-hyung, I don’t forget these things.

[eirian-houpe]

Scattered - Chapter 4

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold

Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Gaston (Once Upon a Time), Maurice | Moe French, Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Alex (OC)

Additional Tags: AU, Curse gone wrong, Rape/Non-con Elements, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Cruelty, Abuse, Triggers, Graphic depictions of violence, Eventual Smut, Romance, Character Death, Gaston is evil

Summary: Casting a spell, any spell - at least the ones that involve more than just the wave of a hand, or worse, the wave of an irritating fairy’s wand - takes time, and patience, and the right ingredients, and… just like any recipe, if you get it wrong, it doesn’t mean the cake won’t cook, rather then will, just with unexpected or unintended outcomes. All of Rumplestiltskin’s careful planning and manipulation, all of his hopes and dreams turn to dust; ashes in his bitter heart in the blink of an eye… in the fall of an equine heart.  Belle exchanges one terrible prison for another, and it’s one she is desperate to escape, and though Rumple’s fate as The Savior was severed from him centuries ago, sometimes fate itself has a way of finding an alternate route home.

NOTE: Not gonna lie - this is ugly and will quite likely be triggering. There is the heavy implication that Gaston took Belle against her will, nothing is 'seen' except the preceeding violence, but if you feel this will trigger you, just read the sections at the beginning (Jefferson) and the end (Rumple).

Read on AO3

[Chapter 1]  [Chapter 2]  [Chapter 3]

Chapter 4 - The Price Of Denial

Jefferson wasn’t surprised when Regina showed up on his doorstep later that evening. He opened the door, threw her a bored expression and then began to walk back into the house, not bothering to close the door, or to greet her, knowing that she’d follow him anyway, or beat the hell out of his door if he closed it in her face as he felt like doing.

“Jefferson,” she began, as she did, indeed, follow him.  “Where is she? Why isn’t she here?”

“You expect me to understand the nuances of magic?” he asked sarcastically, adding, “I”m just a portal jumper, remember? I expect because you cast it wrong.”

“What?!” Regina snapped.

“The curse,” he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, completely misinterpreting her reason for asking. “You know the reason we’re all here in this godforsaken place, living fake lives just so you can have your happy ending?”

“How dare you?” she roared at him, but he refused to be intimidated - because what was she going to do to him, after all, without her magic - and spun round to face her, drawing up to his full height and raising his voice, sick of the way she’d always spoken to him; sick of all she was doing to him, and to Grace and to everyone else.

“Because it’s the truth!” He threw up his arms as he yelled the words. He turned and stalked away, hearing her following again, and then turned back to her, getting right into her face in a way that few dared, gratified when she actually backed up a pace or two. “What you should be asking is why isn’t he here, and what kind of monumental fuck-up is that going to put in this little scheme of yours?”

Regina stood, momentarily stunned into silence, as though contemplating his words; as if she were indeed running through the moment to moment march of her plans. It made him shudder to think that she had plans that went beyond the misery that she had already caused others. Eventually, having apparently weighed her options and come up with a solution, her face twisted into a wry little sneer.

“Oh, he’s easy enough to find,” she said, “and to bring to heel.”

Jefferson, however, was not done with sarcasm of his own, and snipped back, “What are you gonna do? Call out his name three times and expect him to jump realms like a little lap dog coming to heel?”

Regina’s sneer turned into a full on evil smile.

“Something like that,” she said.

**

The room was silent, the atmosphere heavy and the servants tiptoed around as they brought the food and the wine, and then withdrew. Belle couldn’t miss the expressions of fear on their faces - fear and sympathy.  She shivered, in spite of the fire crackling in the massive stone hearth beside the table.

Gaston had insisted they have dinner at the formal table in the great hall. She couldn’t at all think what statement he was trying to make with his actions, other than to remind her that in the absence of her father he saw himself as the lord of Amberley. She needed to continue to disabuse him of that notion, but just then was more concerned with mastering her own, mounting, fear. His words in the meadow hadn’t been of invitation. They’d been the words of a bully, or worse - and since she already knew him to be a bully, she knew it did not bode well for her safety that evening.

Perhaps she shouldn’t so openly defy him.

She frowned and shook away the thought almost as soon as it had formed in her mind. Damn the man! I will not be cowed in my own home. She decided that the best way to be rid of him was to discover what was going on with Amberley’s finances.  As soon as dinner was at an end, she would go to her father’s study and investigate further.

With no warning, Gaston suddenly slammed his fist down against the tabletop, crystal glassware, silver candlesticks, and the plates and on which their food had been served shook and clinked together before he roared against the crackling silence.

“Damn it, woman, I’ll not have your silence any more!” he yelled. “Every meal at table and not a word from you; as if I were beneath your notice.”

“Not so,” she murmured softly, her heart suddenly racing.

“You speak to the fucking servants more than you do your future husband,” he went on.

Despite the chill of fear in her veins, and against every warning crying out in her mind Belle could not help but come so abruptly to her feet that she upended her wine glass even as she tried to prevent it from toppling. The over all effect reversing the direction of its fall. Red wine splashed from the table top to run down and soak through the front of her pale blue skirts - quite ruined, a spreading stain that wet her thighs beneath.

“I will not have you speak to me that way,” she growled, the words also escaping her before she could stop them. “I’m no common whore to be cursed at, nor ordered to do your bidding.”  She took a breath then, adding just as harshly, and mocking, “And I remind you, my lord, that I have not accepted your proposal, and I have told you that there will be no wedding so long as my father remains as he is.”

“Ungrateful—!” Gaston spluttered and also came to his feet. “How dare you deny me! I have foregone the affairs of my own demesne to attend to yours in your father’s… illness.”

“Well then, I bid you return to your people,” she spat, “because we have no need of you here… and nor do I desire to suffer your company any further.  Good night, Sir Gaston.”

She stepped out from between her seat and the end of the table, and turned to start toward the door, but his angry voice followed her and  everything she was tightened in fearful anticipation.

“I did not give you leave to retire,” he railed.

She ignored his words, hurrying to try and reach the door, her steps quickening even more when she heard the rapid pounding of his feet after her. Her fingers closed around the handle of the heavy door and pulled, opening it a crack before his hand, and then his weight against her back wrenched the door from her grasp, the sharp pain of fingernails tearing masked by the fire that burst suddenly inside her skull as his hand twisted in her hair, and slammed the side of her face against the now closed door.

“You need to learn manners, wench.”

His breath was hot against the side of her face and nausea rose in her belly. She struggled and fought, even knowing his strength far exceeded hers, but she would not give in, not to him; not to this.

“And obedience,” he hissed, and still holding her by the hair dragged her away from the door and back toward the table.  She dug her fingernails into his wrist in an attempt to free herself, but only succeeded in earning herself a powerful, backhanded slap to the side of her face in the instant before he tossed her, hard, against the tabletop. The impact drove the air from her lungs, and wound a band of pain around her abdomen. “It isn’t your right to deny what your father has already given.”

“Don’t you dare!” she managed in spite of her breathlessness, which only increased as she felt his weight pin her in place. “Don’t you DARE!

**

Rumplestiltskin sat, brooding, in front of the fire in the hearth of the cottage, listening to the sounds of the wood popping and allowing the flames to draw his mind into a deep, meditative state. First, he had to find a way to rid Amberley of the threat from the savagery of the would-be Lord Gaston. He searched his memories as Rascende, knowing that Lord Maurice had only agreed to the match in order to save the demesne from financial ruin and a hostile take-over by the Lord of Chanctonbury, and Gaston, Chanctonbury’s son, was as hostile as they came.

It was all a lie, of course, Maurice had been duped, coerced and blackmailed into such a position so that Chanctonbury could own the land, and the resources it possessed, but the situation was difficult - dangerous. He could not let it stand.

A faint tremor, and an icy chill seized him, interrupting his thoughts as Rascende and throwing Rumplestiltskin back to himself, half in a rage, and half in panic. He leaped to his feet so fast that the chair on which he was sitting upturned, falling back onto the floor behind him with a sound like thunder… until he realized that there was thunder - sudden and rainless - at least for the moment, as though the world itself was angered.

And as if an echo of the thunder, his heart squeezed painfully in his chest as the ghost of a voice he knew too well, cried out in pain and fear…