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lonepine · 9 months ago

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RULES.

Welcome to the fifth season of Lone Pine! Before getting started, please carefully read through our rules. Any failure to comply can result in an immediate ban. When you’ve finished, please visit the #introductions channel to introduce yourself. Once you’ve done that, you will be awarded with a role and given access to the rest of the server.

— 𝙶𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈 :

You’ve lived on this little island all your life. All you’ve ever known are your neighbors and fellow villagers in their homes and businesses, the cold grey sea that stretches endlessly from the coastline, and the thick, impassible, seemingly unending forest that’s kept your people here on the coast for the entirety of your history. Your little town is highly diverse, advanced, and educated thanks to frequent contact with foreign cultures and their people.

Massive ships, once full of decorated captains and their crews, sit rotting in your ports. Countless other, smaller boats have been either broken down for resources or refitted for your own people’s use– only after it became clear that nobody was coming back for their vessels.

Daily, foreigners arrive from all over the world, something horrible and bright in their eyes, as if they’ve stumbled upon an island made of solid gold. Some of them manage to sleep for a night or two; some stay for many weeks or months or years; some don’t even stop to eat or bathe. Without fail all of them eventually abandon most of their belongings and plunge themselves into the forest (against all advice), always in the same direction, never to return again. None of your ancestors have ever survived in the forest, either.

There are no maps that are accurate to more than 50 yards past the treeline, even though your village could boast about having the best and most skilled practitioners of every specialty, cartography being no exception. Every square foot of your village, the beach, and the first few miles of sea in front of it have been mapped perfectly, down to the loose stones in the street, the caves formed by coral reefs; but the forest behind you and the rest of the island are a complete mystery to even your most respected elders. There are secrets to be learned, clues to uncover, and mysteries to solve.

There is an overarching meta plot, and players are encouraged and are free to create their own dynamics and subplots, but any event that will affect more than 3 players or the main plot of the game, or a potentially triggering event (i.e. a player being hospitalized, going to jail, getting pregnant) needs to be run by the DM first.

— 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴 :

Due to the nature of the game, everyone will only be allowed one muse. Both OCs and canon characters are allowed, but we do ask that all characters be humanized. This means that your superhero can't just be a superhero without their powers. Characters should be adapted to fit the server, or they will not be accepted.

Things to consider about your character are things like their tendency to follow tradition, the strength of their curiosity, and childhood inclinations that could give them some pertinent background knowledge. Gami will help you flesh these things out during your Session 0.

— 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙳𝚄𝙲𝚃 :

ABSOLUTELY NO malicious arguing, name-calling, passive aggressive behavior, or bullying. No always means no. No racism, transphobia, ableism, or sexism. Discrimination of any kind is not allowed and will result in an immediate removal without warning.

No politics are to be brought up in the server. If things are getting political, Gami will put you in timeout and speak to you. This can result in a warning.

if you consistently can't keep OOC and IC separate, you will be issued a warning. Character bleed happens, but if you cannot handle conflict IC, then this isn't the server for you. In the same vein, if your character and another are having a heated or stressful interaction, it’s important to check with your writing partner OOC frequently, or things may be misconstrued and taken personally.

In regards to the previous paragraph, please make an effort to remain open-minded and willing to accept criticism. In our experience, nobody who has experienced character bleed has done so on purpose or with intention to cause harm. In the same vein, they also have not been aware of their character bleed. This means that if you are approached and spoken to about this, it may feel like a surprise, and even an attack if you’re not in a good headspace. Please know that it is never our intention to shame or judge players for what are, realistically, very normal mistakes. If you are spoken to about character bleed, it is not because you are in any sort of trouble (the first time), but because we want to ensure everyone, including you, is having a low-stress and enjoyable experience.

On voice chat, DO NOT discuss politics or triggering topics like sexual assault, murder, etc. There is a difference between sharing your personal experience with the consent of the other people in chat with you and mindlessly sharing trauma without any warning or asking consent. CONSENT IS KEY. When in doubt, always ask.

— 𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙶𝙴𝚁𝚂 :

Thoroughly read the pinned post in the #triggers channel and be mindful of what you post. If you have ANY triggers, no matter how arbitrary or unlikely it may seem to you, PLEASE post it in the #triggers channel and make sure you commit all triggers listed in the channel to memory. Anything listed in the channel MUST be spoiled and the trigger MUST be declared.

Example: tw sweet tea ||i fucking love sweet tea bro.||

If something is listed in the triggers channel, best practice is to not mention it in any context, especially without consent from your fellow writers. Utilize the spoiler function when needed and declare the relevant trigger warning when needed.

If someone accidentally forgets to spoil something that is a trigger, simply approach them politely and let them know. Mods should only be involved if this has been done and the behavior either continues or if the initial conversation goes poorly. If the person at fault fixes their mistake, then the problem is solved. Moderators will try our best to keep it from happening in the first place, but we’re all adults, and as long as we have the intention to treat each other well, mistakes should be tolerated and forgiven. Though we do understand that there are exceptions (in every case), we also think that there is usually an obvious difference between a simple mistake and a pattern of behavior.

Anything not listed in the #triggers channel may be freely posted.

Possible triggers in this game may include but are not limited to: murder, death, sex, abuse, torture, illness, gaslighting, uncanny valley content, body horror, existential horror, doppelgangers, cryptids, paranoia, general violence, the occult, curses, ic and ooc alcohol/drug use, and unbalanced power dynamics.

— 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝚃 :

This server is 21+ ONLY. That means that adult themes will be present, both OOC and IC. These themes can include but are not limited to explicit sexual content (in private threads ONLY), mentions of or references to sexual content, drug and/or alcohol use, and mentions of any of the above. If you are not comfortable with any of the aforementioned themes, Lone Pine is not the server for you.

Please keep IC content to the IC channels and OOC content to the OOC channels. Plotting must be mutual and enthusiastic, so no one gets thrown a curve ball without consent. For example, if I wanted to make your muse my muse’s ex, we’d have to discuss it beforehand. I couldn't make that decision for us both.

— 𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝚃 :

NSFW will be present in this server. This category includes but is not limited to: explicit descriptions of sex, murder, abuse, and gore. In the overall plot, there will be no mentions or descriptions of any kind of sexual content, but this will likely be present in the private threads of some server members.

IMPORTANT: If you intend on writing NSFW content, or if a private thread between you and another writer turns into smut or another type of graphic NSFW content, please RENAME THE THREAD to include “nsfw” as the first word in the title.

Example: (nsfw) The Talk; Bruce and Anna.

This is to ensure that server members who are reading the threads of other writers are able to give their consent to view sexual/graphic material of any kind and are not blindsided.

— 𝚂𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝚃 :

All channels and categories in this server have a purpose and nothing is here arbitrarily. Each channel has a description and/or a pinned post containing information like templates, rules and guidelines, and descriptions. There is also guide to the server in the #𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛-𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚎 channel that contains descriptions of each location, information about the town and the university, and other helpful information that WILL HELP YOU get your footing in this universe and give your muse some common knowledge with NPCs and other muses. You will also notice that there are maps of the campus and the town made for your convenience in the #𝚖𝚊𝚙𝚜 channel. Please refer to these maps and the other available materials as often as needed. Gami has tried to ensure that you have everything you need, but they can get very busy. Sometimes a question can be answered by going back to check a map, pinned posts, the server guide, or a specific channel.

— 𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝙵𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙰𝚈 :

Every Sunday, all available members of the server are welcome and encouraged to participate in whatever group activity is decided upon for that week. We’ll do things like in-character Cards Against Humanity, Jackbox 1-4, watching a movie or a show, etc. If you have any ideas for activities on Sunday Funday, make sure to let Gami know in the #requests channel!

— 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂 :

Our server-wide events occur weekly, (typically) every Saturday, between 2-5pm PST/5-8pm EST. We’ll have surveys every week with 4-5 different times for everyone to vote on to ensure that the maximum number of server members are able to participate. These events are where the main plot will move and where most of your questions/IC actions will come to fruition (with regard to the plot, of course. Be patient).

Missing two or more events, especially two in a row, can seriously throw you off in terms of plot status and immersion. Even if you’re not able to participate, being there to read in real time is usually better than having to go back and read through the entire thing later.

The #plot-so-far channel is your best friend in these scenarios. It provides bullet points containing plot-important events in the order that they happened. Gami should be updating this (at least) every week after server events…

However, please know that Gami has proven terrible at this in past seasons, and even though this season they intend to be much more on top of it, they might very well slack in this department again. This is why you all also have access to the plot so far channel, and are encouraged to add whatever Gami may have missed, or just keep it updated for your muse independently if you’d prefer.

Note from Gami: I am usually extremely busy during the season; planning, executing, and DMing server and mini-events, keeping track of everything, planning for future actions, thinking of things for you and your muses to find, morphing the plot accordingly to each characters’ actions and beliefs… but, I do understand that that’s not really helpful if you don’t know what’s going on in the first place. I really do intend to be on top of it this season, because I think it’s one of the most important parts of the server and I’ve neglected it in the past, which has negatively affected the experience of some players. I want to make sure everyone has access to as many resources as possible to have a good time here in the server. Please try to keep in mind the actual amount of work each season takes. I typed out all of these rules (which get longer every season), the server guide, all applications and google forms, conducted each and every Session 0 with the same amount of detail and care, formatted the server and channels from scratch, created all images, edits, and playlists, created all NPCs as well as their bios, and also made the maps from scratch with no assistance. I hope to receive applications from potential moderators so that I can have a bit of help, but until then, all I ask is for your patience and understanding. Also, that said, you still can and should remind me if I miss something that affects your experience as a player.

— 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙸-𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂 :

Any player in the server is allowed to have a maximum of 2 mini events per week: one solo, and one in a group. Mini-events are similar in concept to the server-wide events, only more personalized to you and your muse(s). You can have a solo event, take just one other player with you, or organize a group of 3 or more who will all be included in the mini-event.

There is a google form that contains the official application for a mini event, and the form itself contains more specific information if you still have questions. Links to this google form and other important documents are listed in the #resources channel as well as on the Lone Pine tumblr, and you can also ask Gami for a link if they’re available.

— 𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙻𝚄𝚂𝙸𝚅𝙸𝚃𝚈 :

Please ensure that you’re including all members of the server. Sticking to only one or two people and ignoring the rest is extremely discouraged and considered to be clique-ish behavior. It will result in a private message from Gami and potentially a warning if it continues.

This extends to checking in with one another during stressful interactions. When your muse is rude to another, or if something happens in the narrative that could potentially hurt the other member’s feelings, it’s important to keep in contact with them OOC to ensure they’re comfortable and not taking things personally. Communication is essential. This extends to the DM as well; they are a person, just like anyone else, and just as prone to character bleed. The rule of thumb is: if a scene you’re writing is getting intense, be sure to check in with your partner if you are not already speaking with them OOC.

— 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙸𝚃𝚈 :

Gami is not going to demand any sort of activity level, but they do ask that you consider your availability and motivation prior to committing to the server. They understand that things happen and real life always comes first, but it is difficult to advance a plot driven storyline when a crucial member of the server is unavailable. They ask that you do not commit to this server if you consistently can’t be here for events, which are (typically) every Saturday at 5pm PST/8pm EST. We’ll have surveys every week with 4-5 different times for everyone to vote on to ensure that the maximum amount of server members are able to participate. If you go a week with no activity IC or OOC without notifying the DM, they reserve the right to remove you from the server.

— 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙲𝚃 :

Your DM and moderator this season is Gami. Other mods may be added if they apply, but the entire server will be asked to vote them in before they are awarded a moderator role. Please direct any questions or concerns to Gami for now. Everything will remain confidential and private.

As other moderators and admins are added, this portion of the rules will be edited.

— 𝙿𝚄𝙱𝙻𝙸𝙲 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 :

Any interactions posted in public channels are considered to be public, meaning that any other muse can walk up and join the conversation. If you want a private thread, go to your writing partner’s channel and create a thread. Otherwise, the IC channels provide a space where everyone is free to interact with each other.

— 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷 :

PERMANENT DEATH IS A MECHANIC THAT WILL BE UTILIZED IN THIS GAME. If you are not okay with the potential permanent death of your muse, indicate this on your interest tracker; if you are not okay with injuring, mutilating, psychologically torturing, or otherwise harming your muse, this may not be the server for you, but let us know anyway and we’ll see if we can accommodate you (we would like to try, at least). PLEASE FILL OUT THE INTEREST TRACKER.

— 𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙸𝚃 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺𝚂 :

Due to the nature of the content in this game, the DM will only allow players over the age of 21. Once you read and agree to these rules, you will be allowed into the introduction channel.

Here is the basic overview of the guidelines to the way this server works:

1. Your application must be approved by Gami before you can gain access to the server.

2. You will be asked to list positive and negative traits in your application and your bio. An even number of positive and negative traits are required for your characters, in the spirit of balanced interactions.

3. Players are encouraged to interact with as many NPCs, objects, and other muses as possible. There is information everywhere. Feel free to start threads and tag Gami if you want an NPC interaction; just be mindful of their time. They will respond ASAP (also, please don’t skip out on doing this because you feel that I am “already too busy” or “very overwhelmed” with other threads. I promise, I will find time for them all in the order that I receive them. This is basically my full-time job, for now. -Gami)!

4. Players are encouraged to start multiple “longform” threads, text threads, and interact in the IC and OOC chat. “Longform” threads are time locked, meaning that you can have multiple threads taking place at different points in the timeline.

CODE OF CONDUCT:

1. Moderators will be monitoring gameplay and any metagaming will be addressed both in and out of character.

Metagaming: defined as the character having knowledge of things the character should not (for example: witnessing a character death OOC in a mini meta event and somehow having knowledge of that death IC), or attempting to influence the plot in major ways without consulting a mod. Offenders will receive a warning.

2. Players are expected to be consistently active and interacting with multiple parties. If you are chronically inactive, you will receive a private message from a moderator and could be removed from the server.

3. If the plot involves significant life events (pregnancy, jail, serious bodily harm, etc), it needs to be approved by the DM and your fellow writers. If your character has a “secret plan,” that plan should never be a secret from the DM. Springing a last minute plan on the DM will result in that plan being denied. Until your request is approved or denied, DO NOT continue with your plot. Put it on hold. If the plot affects more than two people, all affected parties must be consulted. You cannot speak for another player in these matters.

4. If your character is standoffish or rude to another character, it’s important to interact with that writer OOC and make sure they’re feeling comfortable. Things can be taken personally otherwise. Character bleed is a real thing, especially in high stress situations. If the DM senses tension, they reserve the right to call for a break to avoid hurt feelings. The DM and other Moderators are included in this rule; we’re just as human and sensitive as anyone else.

5. Actions IC have consequences IC. Gami can step into private and public threads at any time to narrate/help players navigate the plot. If your character wants to investigate something, let the DM know! They’ll make you your own mini-event. Anyone can have a mini-event at any time, with regard to mod availability.

6. You have a certain amount of control over your character and their death. You’re welcome to plot out your character’s death with Gami, if you’re into that kind of drama (they definitely are). They’d love to help make the end of your character’s story special. Otherwise, your character may still die as a result of their action or inaction IC. Again, if you’d be afraid for your life, your character probably should be too.

7. There are no main characters in this server. All characters are important in their own ways and all characters are fallible, prone to mistakes, and make poor decisions. No one likes a character who’s always right. Please take care to keep your characters from becoming Mary/Gary/Therry Sues.

#rules

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10piecechickennuggy · 10 months ago

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Magic and Secrets, Ch. 9 - Sanji x Witch!OC

WARNING: Mature content ahead.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own One Piece or the art featured above. This is a fan-created work featuring an original character.

Read Chapter 8.5 Here

Read Chapter 8 Here

Read Chapter 7 Here

Read Chapter 6 Here

Read Chapter 5 Here

Read Chapter 4 Here

Read Chapter 3 Here

Read Chapter 2 Here

Read Chapter 1 Here

“How is it?” Sanji asked expectantly, his expression hopeful.

A tiny gray rat nibbled on some quiche it’d been given.

Upon seeing the creature’s enthusiasm as it took bite after bite, the young boy lit up. “I’m so glad you like it!”

Seemingly understanding Sanji’s words, the rat stuffed its mouth with the remaining bits of egg before reaching out its tiny hands to ask for more. The blonde boy happily complied, handing the rodent another bit of quiche.

“Prince Sanji.” A guard’s voice startled the boy, who turned slowly to meet disapproving eyes. “You should know better than to feed the rodents. It is already too much that you cook. It is not royalty’s place to serve others, especially a creature so far beneath you.”

Sanji frowned, handing the rat another morsel. “He’s hungry.”

The guard shook his head. “You’ll only anger King Judge by continuing both practices.”

At the mention of his father, Sanji felt fear grip his chest. Surely this guard wouldn’t tell his father. If so, that’d only bring on another beating from the man.

The boy stood as tall as his small frame would allow, his fists clenched as he tried to form a stern expression. “It isn’t a guard’s place to tell a royal what to do.”

At this, laughter erupted, its source just out of Sanji’s sight. The voices were unmistakable - his brothers were here.

As the three boys rounded the corner, Sanji took a step back into his bedroom. Turning in time to see the rat escape out a window, Sanji wished he could do the same.

“It’s a servant’s job to do as commanded.” Niji was the first to speak, his blue hair swaying as he marched happily towards his brother. “And if that command is to order a pathetic weakling like you around, then he will.”

Sanji’s lower lip quivered as he took another step backwards. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?!”

It was Ichiji’s turn to speak, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. “Because, you being so weak and cooking for rats makes the rest of us look bad.”

Yonji chimed in, his broad smile sadistic. “Plus, kicking the crap out of you is a great warmup for our real training!” The boy slammed his fist into an open palm, the resulting noise punctuating his statement.

The guard had taken his leave, allowing the quadruplets to hash things out on their own. Sounds of fists striking flesh were mingled with Sanji’s cries of pain.

***

“Why?”

The question wasn’t directed at anyone in particular. Herself, maybe. Her parents, more likely. But those answers would never come. She knew that, and still her soul longed for an explanation.

Why was she subjected to a life of misery? Her mother was the one who’d had an affair, resulting in her conception. Why was she the one to be punished? She hadn’t asked to be born - not to a cheating woman and not into a cruel household.

Why was she subjected to such barbarism? Why did her mother condone and participate in her mistreatment?

Why? Why? Why?

“Why what?” Sanji had gripped both her shoulders, searching her eyes for any sign she was still with him. His words felt like a far off whisper, meant to be heard by another set of ears than her own.

“Why was I born a Celestial Dragon?”

Sanji’s eyes widened as he took in the reality of Vera’s words. He opened his mouth to speak - to say something, anything - but before the words could begin forming, Vera had been ripped from his hands.

She’d begun running before registering that her feet had even moved. It was as though her body were on autopilot - moving without her input.

“Vera!” Sanji shouted after her, but her form had already become a tiny dot on the horizon.

Shit, Shit, Shit!

A memory was all it took, and now the truth was out. Sanji knew who she was. Knew what she was. He’d never look at her the same. Not with those kind eyes and gentle smile.

Tears continued to fall, wetting the ground as she ran. Still, her feet moved without direction. It was as though someone else had taken control of her body.

Where was she going? The Sunny was in the opposite direction. The festival was on the outskirts of town and only forest lay ahead of her. There wouldn’t be any doors for her to escape through.

What was she even trying to escape from? Now that her secret was out, surely the Strawhats would simply leave her on this island. She’d be stranded again, forced to resume working as a maid. Vera knew she could get by, but -

A shriek erupted into the night as she tripped over a tree root, tumbling forward and landing on her hands and knees. Dirt undoubtedly coated her as she rited herself and continued running, her tulle skirt now torn.

Images of the Strawhat Pirates flashed through her mind. Their laughter, their kindness, and their worry. Their friendship - she’d never experienced bonds so strong before. Vera had truly believed she’d finally found a place where she belonged. Where she was not only welcomed but wanted. Where she could be at ease, practicing her magic and expressing herself unhindered.

But that ease was what caused her current situation. She’d let her guard down, forgotten to keep specific information secret, and it had cost her the only home she’d wanted to keep.

She only had herself to blame.

Coming to a stop, Vera bent over and tried desperately to catch her breath. With both hands on her knees, she panted heavily into the night.

Even with the moonlight, the forest around her was barely visible. Any illumination the town would have provided was long gone, far behind her and unable to penetrate the dense grouping of trees and underbrush she now found herself in.

Surely, no one would come through here. Not at night, and not when there was a festival in town. She could rest - away from any prying eyes and away from the Strawhats. Though she doubted they would come looking for her.

***

“You lost her?!” Nami shouted in disbelief.

Upon realizing he couldn’t catch up to Vera, Sanji had bolted to the Sunny. Nami was the first crewmate he’d run into and immediately told her everything that had transpired, his voice and movements frantic. He now stood before the ginger navigator, panic taking hold of his erratic heart as he awaited her response.

She wasted no time, grasping the magic key which hung around her neck. Thrusting it into the nearest door, she flung the wood open. Before the pair stood Vera’s pocket dimension - the space appearing like a regular bedroom, sans the assorted collections of organized items which shared no connection - but the witch in question was nowhere to be found.

Cursing under her breath, Nami produced a transponder snail from her pocket and called the rest of the crew. Within moments, all nine Strawhats and Law were searching for their missing comrade.

“You’re sure that’s what she said?” Zoro’s eye narrowed as he scanned the area, a torch illuminating his path.

“For the last time, yes!” Sanji gritted his teeth, pushing down the urge to argue with his green-haired companion. “Her exact words were ‘Why was I born a Celestial Dragon?’. And then she ran off!” The blonde threw his hands into the air, the familiar feeling of defeat sinking his shoulders.

The crew had split up into groups of two for their search. Sanji had the misfortune of being paired with Zoro, the two assigned to the forest where Vera had last been seen running to.

“Hey, waiter.” Zoro grunts, regaining Sanji’s irate attention. “Look at this.”

On the forest floor before the pair sat a witch’s hat - the one Vera had been wearing earlier that evening. The fabric was now crumpled and dirtied, the wooden comb Sanji had won for her still nestled into its thick brim.

The chef took the hat into his hands and brushed off what dirt he could. Examining the forest floor, handprints and an upturned root showed which direction their companion had gone.

“Looks like we’re getting close.”

***

“Vera.” A soft voice spoke her name, inciting feelings of comfort and joy. A smile graced the girl’s lips at the sound.

She wasn’t sure who was talking, but she felt safe with the mystery speaker. Their tone was deep and smooth, reminiscent of polished mahogany.

“Sanji.” Her own voice came as more of a sigh than actual words, but she knew her sentiment was received. Her prince had come for her and now she was safe again.

“Vera.” The voice called again, louder than before but not forceful. The witch in question looked around, searching for the voice’s owner.

“Sanji?” She called into nothingness, not another soul in sight. “Where are you?”

When she didn’t receive an answer, Vera began to search more frantically. But still her efforts saw no results. Where was Sanji? She could hear him but she couldn’t see him. She couldn’t see anything. How long had the world been devoid of color?

“Vera!”

Dark eyes shot open at the abrupt shout, the rising sun glaring over the horizon. A hand was brought up to shield her eyes as her mind began its gradual return to reality.

She felt stiff all over, her neck and side sore from sleeping on the forest floor. Her brain was still foggy with sleep, causing her brows to furrow. “What time is it?” Her voice was hoarse.

“Does it matter?” The voice was deep and gruff, laced with annoyance. Distinctively not Sanji.

Vera opened her eyes once more, being met with a pair of piercing golden orbs. A head of shaggy black hair had eclipsed the sun. The witch frowned.

“Law.” His name dripped from her tongue like poison, clearly unhappy with her visitor.

The man chuckled, reaching a hand out to help her stand. “Don’t sound too disappointed. You’ll hurt my feelings.”

When she’d been brought to her feet, Vera took a moment to stretch. The morning air was cold and her festival outfit did little to protect her from the breeze that sent a shiver through her core.

Law raised an eyebrow, eyeing the girl’s attire as she yawned loudly. The thin bodysuit and tulle skirt were hardly covering her, let alone providing any warmth. “Here.” He allowed his thick jacket to slouch off his shoulders and offered the article to her.

She took a moment to process his gesture before taking the black jacket from his tattooed hands. “Thanks, . . .” Her voice wavered with uncertainty, making no attempt to disguise her lack of trust in this man.

As she wrapped the article around herself, its long fabric shielding most of her legs from the wind, Law turned towards the open ocean. “We should get you inside. Bet you’re hungry.”

Vera scoffed. “You expect me to go back to the Sunny? I’m sure Sanji told you everything.”

Law only placed his hands into the pockets of his speckled jeans and began walking before he spoke again. “We aren’t going to the Sunny.”

With hesitant footsteps, she began to follow. The pair walked along a rocky cliff, waves lapping at its exposed facets as gulls cried overhead. Peering down, what Vera saw caused her movements to falter - if for only a moment.

Moored to a craggy outcropping of rock sat a yellow submarine, its bright visage bobbing amidst the seafoam.

#one piece #black leg sanji #one piece oc #one piece sanji #sanji #sanji vinsmoke #vinsmoke sanji #cat burglar nami #god usopp #monkey d luffy #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law #trauma #childhood trauma #ptsd #complex ptsd #cptsd

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thefinalwitness · 3 months ago

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overall all the characters i listed out in my pre-dt post are having their involvement in the expac fleshed out really well, i'm super happy with the expac and it's less intense focus on us as a warrior of light/main character has been HUGE for me in terms of fleshing out other ocs!!! i'm so excited and pleased hehe

so i wanted to update on what all those ocs/au npcs from my first post are up to throughout and after 7.0, as well as some additional ocs/au npcs i didn't expect to involve at first!

dawntrail spoilers / 7.0 spoilers <3

l'aiha & j'sera

easily the focal point of the expac for me! i wanted to use dawntrail as an opportunity for these two to bond, and got exactly that.

the rites are spent with them bonding, but also with l'aiha becoming extremely protective of sera, all while sera is coming into her own as an adventurer. it creates a bit of conflict of interests between them. then sera chooses to go with erenville to yyasaluni, and of course, this means her and l'aiha are separated when the first attack strikes tuliyollal.

sera returns in time to be FUSSED OVER by l'aiha, adding some tension to their newly budding relationship as sisters. even so, l'aiha reluctantly agrees to stay in tuliyollal as sera and others investigate the dome, recognizing that this situation is bigger than her and her sister, and that her skills are best used defending the capitol.

as sera investigates the dome, she further comes into her own, no longer suffocated by l'aiha's worrying. she's got a long way to go, of course, but she's growing a lot and she's gaining something she hasn't before: a proper teamwork relationship with leviathan-egi.

when she and l'aiha reunite after the second trial, l'aiha can very much see the difference in sera, how she's grown into her own, and it allows l'aiha to back off and for them to be equal as adventurers, friends and sisters. i'm SO happy with how dawntrail played out, it was PERFECT for facilitating this <3

minfilia

as mentioned, minfilia comes to tural to learn about how the echo is treated there, and i also realize now she should 100% be there to support her bffsie krile's mission! she has a very minor involvement in the rites half of the expac, as this is when she's learning about tural's experience with the echo, but she does join the main cast to every zone to facilitate this research, as well as joining erenville and sera on their trip to yyasaluni as well.

it's the second half of the expac where minfilia's role really picks up. she's deeply interested and invested in oblivion's work, and i think her and sphene would have a lot of really interesting interactions, and even share a few things in common—minfilia, after all, still carries a lot of grief for her actions as word of the mother and the oracle of light, and she knows those things are not very different from what sphene is doing now. i think minfilia also knows that shutting down the endless, too, has its resemblances to her own actions. it's a time of processing and acceptance: for those we have lost, and those we can yet save.

this is also where another unexpected character enters my arsenal of "npcs i stole from squeenix bc i liked them": strika, who you may remember for her singular quest in heritage found, takes an interest in minfilia's work and her knowledge about souls. i've added a ton of lore to strika, namely that one of her parents was turali, and strika wants to learn more about that world as a result. she ends up joining minfilia's cause sometime between the end of 7.0 and 7.1, now that oblivion's mission to unseat zoraal ja is complete. minfilia and strika don't exactly see eye-to-eye though, particularly in regard to souls, but they're both very open-minded to and learning from each other. i'm excited to see how i can develope them throughout the patches!

valensia

i had already decided valensia was joining thancred and urianger to tural, but i had not at all anticipated how PERFECT of a fit the decision would prove to be! valensia completely agrees with koana's vision for tural—of course she does, being garlean born and raised. but his journey in discovering his flaws and weaknesses also serves as valensia disconvering her own, and she has the opportunity to grow so much in understanding how best to serve garlemald and bring it into the fold of the new era as an equal, not a conqueror.

she's also uniquely insightful throughout the alexandrian business—alexandria may wear a different paint, but a ton of its infrastructure is exceedingly familiar to valensia, so she's able to provide a lot of insight particularly to characters unfamiliar with magitech.

also, her and estinien are the exact same kind of autistic and are totally bffsies now. his escapades may be where valensia can be found moving forward. <3

l'rhen

the oc i unexpectedly added to the fray after playing dawntrail! i think she'll have come with estinien and thus spent most of her time during the first half in shaaloani, picking up the viper job along the way and hunting vidraal with increasing enthusiasm, only joining the main cast as they venture into the dome. this presents a huge conflict of interest though, as l'rhen discovers valensia, her previous "employer" back during stormblood, is here too. i'm still working out the kinks, but i think this meeting will be an opportunity for both l'rhen and valensia to grow further, as they're both people who served garlemald but have EXTREMELY complicated feelings about it.

i also want to use l'rhen as a means of expanding upon the hetsarro, so any future patch involvement with them will definitely feature l'rhen too. they share a lot of her ideals in what she wants for her clan in a world free of garlemald's shadow: i think through them, she'll finally come to see herself as capable of leading and protecting the lion's den as their nunh.

oh, and she's DEFINITELY going to be my arcadion main. that storyline suits her SO WELL.

anyway, same old same old, i LOOOOOOOOVED DAWNTRAIL!!!!!!! i have SO many fun new stories to develop!!!! i can't wait!!!!

#yoshi talks #l'aiha #j'sera #valensia #l'rhen #minfilia #strika #wol #about #dawntrail spoilers #7.0 spoilers

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unofficialarchives · 5 months ago

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Tempted to write up a more detailed statement on the situation with Tim and Sam, but I'm also tempted to post my WIP. I've changed their tattoos from organs and tissues, which is really cool and very the flesh which is why I picked that initially in the picrew, to bones. For a few reasons.

When I was first designing Sam, it was as a self insert based on the toxic traits I displayed as a teen, just ramped up and exagerated quite a bit as the entities often do. My partner at the time, N, Was really into the magnus archives and I got really into it as a result of them. We made our OC's together, and though they had nothing to do with one another, Sam quickly became my baby. In part, due to the fact that I myself share toned down versions of some of their quirks, and in part because of who I had made it with. The others were also created with their guidence, and more so than Sam was. Maybe this is why I've set them down, because I had wanted their opinion. But I digress. During the intial creation process, I asked them about various backgrounds, tattoos, etc available in the picrew, and I knew I wanted a character with multiple mouths, and multiple voices (the flesh/the eye) but with ties to the desolation, because of that past Sam was drawn from. I quickly realized during our conversation that a lot of the pieces I liked were tied to entities I could never serve. Like the buried. And, after throwing a design together haphazardly that I liked, I showed them. They're first reaction was "Oh someone aligned with terminus, the flesh.. and something else. Maybe desolation or the eye?" And my heart sank a bit. The bones read as serving terminus to them, not the flesh. (Despite might I point out, bones also being prevelant in episodes attributed to the flesh) I asked them how to make that more clear, and they told me to add organ tattoos instead. It looked cool, and sufficed my vision, so I changed it. I felt it would be easier to read what they are this way. After noting that they were in the archives, I came up with the first statement about Sam. The rest you can see on my blog. Now, let me be clear, I'm not upset at N for saying what they did nor having that opinion. I wasn't then either. I'm still grateful that they guided me and provided a safe anchor to allow me to dip my toes into the horrors, before being consumed by the deep vast knowledge contained there. However for as much as I love Sam, I have never actually managed to do anything more than sketch them. There was something that stopped me each time, and I think that part of the reason, is that I struggled with drawing those same tattoo's I once loved the design of, without it looking unnecessarily messy, even in black and white. And so, in doing my first piece of art of them, I've decided to honor that original idea. I'll workshop a statement explaining the change, and that'll no doubt be entertaining. A first look at Elias and Sam interacting, perhaps? In any case, going forward Sam will have bones, not tissues, because I have to draw the bastard, and bones are far easier for me.

I have to apologize, I'm going to get a bit personal here. I've been wanting to say this next bit for a long, long time, but I've been afraid of emotional vulnerability, in a space of my creation, wherein I've literally got a self insert character. I recognize it's silly, but I too struggle to let people in, and I know why but that doesn't make it easier. I was afraid of ridicule, or being told to keep my feelings off a magnus archive blog. But, in a fandom that has rallied to support Jmart and lonelyeyes, amongst other things, I think maybe I'll be okay this time. Maybe, this is the best place to try.

To N, and N alone; My lonely companion, I do not know if you still read my blog and search for traces of our past - Or look into my future to see what it now holds, But I do miss you. We can never be close, because by default, I want to be closer than we should be, and you can't let people too close. You're a lukas, at heart and that's okay. I'm not your Jon. You're not my Martin.

Instead, I do believe I've become Martin myself, to a Jon who loves me and would look for me endlessly in the misty houses you led me to. I do not hate you, But I cannot love you. This is the only thing that might yet tie us together, as I made this blog oh so long ago as an attempt to bond and become closer, to find a way past your invisible walls - But I never did. You warned me beforehand that the lonely sang to you, called your name, and I didn't understand then what you meant.

I think I might now, and I'm sorry for hurting you, just as I know you're sorry for hurting me. I think you know too we can't really be friends, or anything more, because of who we are at our cores. I want connection, I want to be a part of something, be it the cult of the lightless flame, the ever seeing institute, or just a meat factory. And you'd rather be in a misty, quiet house, with people who share that desire. You can only be close with those who keep you at a distance, either literally or figuratively, and maybe if I had figured that out sooner things wouldn't have gone so badly.

Regardless. This blog is in a sense as much yours as it is mine - A co founder of the unofficial archives. My proof reader, my inspiration. I'm letting you go, but I hope that if this blog does come across your dash, or if my posts find you, you're still able to smile, and enjoy the content seperate from me, and our soured memories. I know how much this fandom means to you, and how much it has come to mean to me.

But, please.. Don't tell me it's you. Keep me at arms length this time. I'm sorry. I've found out you weren't a fan of the so called "grand gestures" and I recognize that this is an actual, grand gesture and if you hate it I get that too. But I needed closure, and the chances of you actually seeing this are slim to none.

Sincerely, The OG Sam Robinson, A. S.

I hope y'all won't drag me too hard for it. My feelings on it are still complicated, and difficult, but this blog has become a place of joy & fun - And this message has been weighing me down. With the weight lifted, I'd like to continue making magnus archives content. Though I'm not sure that I'll tag this post as such.

#personal

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prijune · 3 years ago

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DID SOMEONE SAY "OCS"?!?!?!?!?!?!

@12am-motivation since you kindly asked I'll talk about my ocs! Let's get started! :D

Under cause it looooong

We'll be talking about Buffy and Clair a pair of witch sisters I made a while back! They are actually part of the first few ocs I made up specifically for this little world of mine(*cough*WIP*cough*).

The world doesn't have an official name but we can call it "Treasure" for now cause that's what the file is called cause it's my little treasure :3

I have several ocs(-maybe too many I am a dreamer) in the past younger me made that I'm reusing to add to this one(making characters is hard), but officially these two are part of the main first few made for "Treasure".

Ladia is actually the first one and originally this whole world and story was going to be about merchants and how they go about dealing with upcoming heroes and the like. But this isn't about her or that! This is about Buffy and her sister Clair!

Buffy is the older sis and her name(I just chose names pretty randomly but sorta fitting) is Buffy because she 'buffs' your weapons or etc so you can do better in combat.

Clair is the younger sis and her name is Clair for "Cleric" cause she's a healer....yeah that's it that's their name origins I am a genius and bad with names. But simple is best sometimes! Unfortunately they were not so simple when they were first made, again younger me didn't know nothing but that's ok. (Current me knows somethings but they learning too)

My mind was alllllll over the place when it came to their designs and personalities and what they did and liked so I jotted down everything.

Any idea that popped up? Down.

Did it make sense for their character? No.

Was it messy? YES.

ANYWAYS

Buffy was a witch who does the buffing and she also dealt with statis effects too. She was a bit cold but she's pretty nice once she opens up and while she and her sis looked nothing a like they're pretty close. She ran the potion shop with her sister while Clair would be off gathering ingredients like fairy dust and monster parts etc.

She was more of a homebody in that way but she was pretty good at flying and did it often to deliver potions. That's where here whole jumpsuit and goggles outfit came from cause she'd be flying pretty often but still be comfy just chilling.

Over a while I gave her that brush broom and came up with the idea of her doing those colored air designs planes do I strayed from the path of what I had originally in mind which leads to much later in this post.

CLAIR ON THE OTHER HAAAAAAND- she was pretty quiet too and had fairy friends and preferred the company of monsters over people. She also looked WAAAAAY different but the key things have stayed: big hat, long boots, short hair, and has a mushroom monster obsession.

I struggled with her design a lot cause it just didn't reach the amount of crazy I was looking for she was basically a cute gardener for a long while...until the lab coat and big glasses came in. AND even then while I had the vibe I wanted that wasn't enough cause her hair made me struggle so much until I was like "add curls or something" and BAM HERE SHE BE CLAIR everything came together in that moment.

Clair is my favorite ever since I figured her out and I love her with my whole heart! My pride and joooooooy!

Most recently I have been writing a story for the world- I've been calling it "Treasure" again cause it's a little treasure for me and also it's the name I drifted too the most. (I already know how it starts and ends and some in between bits so eeeeeyyyyyy go me but also what the heck me you created a whole new oc just to do this even though you had already made another oc to do the original idea so now there's two- no THREE- and I need to chill)

So writing for Clair came so easily that I was excited to work on her sister's part next but for some reason I just could not write. I got stuck so I went over her character and while I liked her and everything she was just....meh honestly. (Mind you it's all just rough summaries but the point is I still couldn't figure out a summary for her and that's bad.)

Her design was cute and I loved her energy but I couldn't figure out why it was so hard to just write for her. Then I realized there was TOO much on her and much of it strayed from how I originally thought of her. Like yeah she's nice but in what way does she read as "someone who can make your weapons/etc stronger"?!?! Or even "someone who deals with status effects"?!?!?!

So I had to start from point one essentially and I remembered a video I watched a while back that's definitely helped me break down my characters into more manageable pieces- which I've also used backwards to see if my characters truly fit what I'm going for. (The video is "Character Design Tips" by Naoki Saito for those curious it's in Japanese but there are subs in various languages)

Many designs I've got of my ocs have changed so much like Kettle who I did for a pallet challenge(maybe I'll post him later) but our girl Clair is basically 1000% where she needs to be in life XD

On the other hand Buffy is no more- jk she's still here but she went through some needed character surgery and has been split into two now. So now the potion sister duo is now a trio!

Bless past me for the old alternative outfit designs I made for her cause SHEEEESH

And also bless the internet for helping me find the beautiful hair ideas that made everything click! I saw so many beautiful braids my heart could not!

So the Potion Sisters are Buffy, Stacy, and Clair! YAAAAAAAAY!

Buffy does still 'buff' your weapons and she has taken up shop and is a blacksmith now. Congrats on the change may I give you the muscles you deserve. :D

Stacy deals with adding 'status' effects to your items mostly accessories and is a jeweler. Ask her to give you a ring that causes poison when enemies touch you and she'll do it for half price she's got so much poison...maybe too much poison <_<;;;;;;;;

Clair is still a healer or 'cleric' class though she's more obsessed with those mushroom monsters so good luck on her healing you XD

(At this point she's a cleric who strayed from the path of a normal healer and is bordering on summoner territory which was also part of the notes I got for her from the madness)

The funny part of this change is that Buffy doesn't entirely work with potions as much anymore cause of this change but she does cause quenching exists but I'll work on how that works later! Quenching stuff in potions sounds hilarious! XD and dangerous <_<;

Thanks for asking about Buffy and Clair! If anyone has anymore questions about them, other characters and "Treasure" as a whole go nuts!

Bonus rough idea doodle of them:

I'm still solidifying their designs but this is the gist of what they look like now in comparison to the old art I've posted on how Buffy was before. Would have added more art but I could make a post of how the math of the design worked cause I did do a lot of character surgery.

Anyways thanks again and have a lovely day!

#prijune art #my ocs #my mind may be a mess but as soon as everything is written and we start cleaning it all comes together it just takes a while ^^#plus talking and sharing like this helps clear up that mess too in a way by making me think and read what I've done so far #I mostly share my ideas with my sis who gives input or etc about them too and its great!#another oc was more fleshed out and another was created as a result though they are still in the works too and are mostly just a concept #watching art videos helps cause while some are hard to understand or just donw right not helpful you can just pick and choose what you like #and from their you pick what works for you from what doesn’t and grow :D #on another note like there are so many witches/wizards/etc up in this world omg #and on another nother note my brain just came up with more ideas for Kettle and his rival Pot noice 👌#and another nother nother note more ideas for how Treasure flows eeeeeeeeeeyyyyyy #will my ocs ever get better names? nah silly names only like that oc that got fleshed out his name is 'Blade' guess what he is XD #Treasure

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harbouredsoulss · 4 years ago

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LURK

Author's note: You have no idea how happy I am to post again! 💞

I've been working on this for a while and am so excited to finally share this with you all. This is set to be a series, with the current number of parts unknown (though I'm currently working on that).

I also appreciate every single person who helped me when I was trying to work out how long my posts should be! You were all super helpful 🥰

warning(s): violence. mention of stalking. blood. a hint of smut. friends x lovers! panic.

pairing(s): ez reyes x [OC] ivána

word count: 2.3 k

summary: Ivána has a secret. She is in danger, and has kept this from everyone including her best friend Ez. What happens when this danger finally comes for her?

Nights alone were truly unbearable, though Ivána knew she was never truly alone.

There was always that heavy feeling -an inexplicable feeling that haunted her, to the point where she knew that he had to be out there watching her each and every move. The feeling clung to her, never abating.

Her home was locked down with the doors bolted shut, and windows sealed and secured. She had made it into a fortress since the first time he had made his intentions clear. She knew his kind; had seen it before. They liked to toy with their prey, and strike fear into their hearts, not long before they consumed them, body and soul.

Ivána knew she was just biding her time before the games would truly begin. The intimidation thus far had been nothing but mere warning of what was to come.

She lay in bed, tossing and turning, thoughts all consuming. She knew what she could do to make the problem go away. The police would be the best place to start and a smart move at that. Though that wasn’t who she was really considering turning to.

There were people she knew and trusted enough to protect her from harm. She had connections with people from all walks of life, some of which she grew up with, some of them considered family.

Her best friend, the one she had been secretly in love with for the majority of her life, Ezekiel Reyes, would do anything for her and she knew that. But she couldn’t bring herself to drag him into her mess. He had already gone through enough; he doesn’t need her problems added to his list.

At some point in the night, she did fall asleep. She fell to the faint pitter patter of the rain, which was rare for Santo Padre. It soothed her restless thoughts, and nudged her slowly to an unbroken sleep.

For once her dreams were not filled with terror, though there was still a flicker of anxiety as her thoughts shaped and manifested to their final form. In her dreams she spoke to EZ, hands caressing his face softly, lips barely a breath a part, whispering to him, telling him the truth, and allowing all her fears to be released. She allowed him to protect her. He encased her in his arms creating a barrier that separated her physical form from all the uncertainties her life was set to face -that plagued her mind incessantly.

Her mind gave in to her desires, ones she not would let happen in the real world. It allowed her a glimpse at what safety and love would truly feel like.

Unlucky for her, the dreams did not last, it was the arrogant sound of her alarm which happened to choose that precise moment, when her thoughts morphed into something more illicit, to interfere with her reverie. The idea of snoozing the alarm was tempting, as was remaining in bed hidden within the confines of her room. Though she knew she would be missed, and staying here, locking herself inside forever, would arouse suspicion.

The hospital would be nothing more than a brief reprieve from the game she had been made part of.

At least that’s what she told herself.

It wouldn’t stop her from looking over her shoulder as she made rounds, checking each bathroom stall, and cataloguing each individual in a waiting room. She was in a minefield and was sure to explode if she made the wrong move.

He had been doing this for quite some time now, though usually he left her alone at work. He left toying with her for when she was alone with no one to reach out to for help. He knew her hours, when she would begin her shift and when it would end. She figured he had someone hack into the hospital’s servers and access her roster. She also knew that if he was not going to be physically present, there would always be someone else from within his inner circle there to stalk her.

She stood in her bathroom, scrubs gripped tightly in her hands, eyes glaring at the fabric as she debated her choices. Her skin was like ice, with goosebumps coating her flesh as she stood there naked in the room, allowing her mind to tick over like a clock. She didn’t want to leave, and it took every ounce of strength she had to force her body to cooperate.

Her mind was at war with itself. Different parts of it were broken up over what she should do. Parts of her wanted to run and hide, whilst the other parts wanted her to stay, too scared to step a toe out of line and be killed.

Her eyes remained locked on her reflection, fingers tracing the length of her skin, up and down, from the curve of her breasts to soft bump of her waist. Her eyes fluttered closed as the soft movement of her fingers pulled her into trance.

It was kaleidoscope of colour that flickered beneath her eyelids as her body began to relax. Soon the mirage of colour transformed in to one whole image of Ez and herself.

Their limbs were intertwined, sliding against one another intimately. His breathing hot against the crook of her neck, fingers torturing her in the most delicious way possible. Sliding down the slope of her body, caressing her breasts, kneading her tender flesh as they ventured lower. They slipped between her thighs, and began rubbing her gently and softly. Edging her, at a leisurely pace, to her release.

It was a sound reminiscent to that of a gunshot that shook Ivána from her fantasy and filled her to the brim with terror.

She moved as fast her body would allow, though it resulted in her tangling herself in her scrubs, tripping over her own feet as tried to dress herself. She could hear the thrum of her heart pounding in her ears as she made her body move towards the living room, grasping onto the baseball bat she kept hidden behind her couch.

It was at that point she came to the realisation that it was not a gunshot she had heard, only what sounded like one. What she had heard was actually the sound of someone banging themselves against her front door.

She had every intention of calling out and demanding the name of whoever it was that was trying to take down her door, but it was the fear that froze her where she stood. She knew with every fibre of her being that the person on the other side of the door was not a friend.

It was only when she took a few hesitant steps away from the couch towards the entryway that the wood began splintering and a large crack struck through the length of the wooden panelled door.

Particles of dust and wood chips scattered across the floor as the banging continued. Her knuckles turned white; her circulation sure to cut off as she continued to grip the handle of the baseball bat, tighter and tighter.

She could hear whoever it was grunting as they continued to throw their body against the door.

It went on for a limited time, mere minutes, before she saw her front door fly off its hinges, bang against her hallway table, and land right before her feet.

A jolt of surprise and dread iced her veins as she took in the scene before her. It was only one man.

It took only one man to break into my home.

Recognition sparked as the cog wheels in her mind began to turn.

His face was red, with beads of sweat clinging to his flesh, soaking his brown hair, and plastering it against his face.

Ivána had seen this man before.

He smiled at her faintly, chest heaving, struggling to catch his breath. He held up his hand, his index finger pointed upwards.

“One…. Moment…” he rasped out; face still flushed as he struggled to catch his breath.

Her eyes were fixed on him, as he stood there both hands pressed on either side of the door frame, his head hanging low. It was a surprising sight for her. One that took an edge off the fear that was gripping her.

There was no awareness of time as she stood there like a deer caught in headlights. All the awareness was honed in on the man before her and his breathing, and how much easier it was starting to become. She knew she was running out of time, but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything.

It didn’t take too long for his demeanour to change. No longer was his mouth agape with salvia bubbling at his lips, slipping down his chin as he tried to capture his breath. He brought his hand to his mouth and begun wiping it slowly, removing any hint of weakness as he did so.

Finally, he took a step towards her, entering her home, stepping on the broken door.

“Let me guess,” she started, taking a step back, “you’re one of David’s men?”

Her fingers curled tightly around the handle of the bat, using all the strength within her, to hold herself up right. The target she’s had on her back, the dread, anticipation, never quite knowing when he would strike. It was always clear that he was waiting for the right moment, which had now come.

The intruder nodded in return, making sure to smile at her wickedly.

“Matteo.” He answered, though she had no care for his name. Being one of David’s lackies was all she needed to know.

Ivána ignored him and instead widened her stance, preparing her body for the inevitable swing that she would take.

Matteo took another step towards her, chest heaving. The knock down of the door had clearly taken a lot out of him, although he tried to show her otherwise.

He didn’t appear to be too old, though she could tell he was not in his prime.

“You know why I’ve come; I assume?”

“To finally take me?” She guessed with a slight shrug to her shoulders, stance still wide, arms ready to swing, “though after that little performance, you shouldn’t feel too confident on your mission being a success.”

He wasn’t fazed by the scorn notable in her voice. He just stood there with his hands on his hips; a smirk plastered on his face, pure excitement gleaming in his eyes.

His gaze remained locked on hers, never wavering, though that was not before he allowed it to lingered down her body slowly, zeroing in on the weapon in her hand. It transformed his smirk into something more wicked; sickening.

“Oh, baby girl,” he said, voice thick and husky, almost as if the mere sight of her holding a weapon turned him on. He licked his lips, clucking his tongue as he did so, with an evil gleam now luminous in his eyes, “surely you must know that it’s a massive turn on when you think you can fight back.”

“You’re disgusting,” she spat; voice laced with venom, “you and your entire crew are nothing but pigs. If your boss wants me, he can come and get me himself.”

He laughed, a hearty kind of laugh. One full of promise.

He began his attack.

_____________________

Blood trickled down the sharp edges of the blade at an unhurried pace. Each drop leaving a faint echo throughout the room one might miss if they weren’t listening out carefully.

Ivána stood there frozen, arms rigid, and glued to her side, clutching the kitchen knife. Her breathing ragged, chest heaving with every painful intake of breath. Her body was battered with cuts, and bruises which, unbeknownst to her, had already begun developing across her flesh. There was no mistaking the red, angry, marks on her skin that were sure to ache, leaving a clear reminder as to what had happened. Perhaps the physical marring of flesh would clear, in time. Though that moment, standing frozen over her assailant’s body, knife caked in blood, would never fade.

Her body convulsed, though she was unaware, as the shock washed over her like a tidal wave. The knife slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor as she fell to her knees. Her body was wracked with loud uncontrollable sobs as the image of the attack flashed through her mind at a hastened pace. Her hands crimson, caked in his blood. Her breathing grew erratic and the panic began to set in, eyesight blurred with tears.

“Yo! Hermana.”

Confusion triggered an innate reaction within her at the sound of Angel’s voice, one that she was not ready for. She jerked forward and frantically began trying to clean the mess around her. Hoping to hide the mess - afraid of anyone else seeing it.

Had she been in a rational state of mind, she would have stopped herself. The attempt she was making was needless given the fact that all she was doing was using her hands to rub the blood around her.

“Ivána…” Voice trailing off, Angel stood within the threshold of the doorway, gaze locked on Ivána as she continued to frantically clean her kitchen floor.

Crouching down he reached out to place his hand on her shoulder, his voice softly urging her to stop. As he touched her, she let out a shrill scream, and lashed out at Angel. Her body and mind were still locked in the fight of her life.

She mistook Angel for another one of David’s men, come to finish what Matteo had started.

“Please,” she begged, voice cracking as her sobs turned heavier, shaking her body further, “Please.”

“I’m here,” Angel murmured softly, attempting to soothe her, “it’s me… Angel.”

“I’ve got you.” He murmured again as he reached towards her, both arms open in attempt to pull her body towards his in an embrace.

She allowed him to take her, his heart shattering when her body went limp in his arms.

If you have stuck through with this part thank you so much! I am really excited to make this a series and worrying about it being a flop! Especially given this part doesn’t really have EZ it, merely mentions of him. I have honestly read and reread over this so many times it’s gotten to the point where I hate it lol. Please leave feedback (if you wish 😂) and pleeeease let me know if you are actually excited to see where this goes. Any guesses? Again, thank you so much if you have actually read all of this and didn’t give up! I appreciate you so much! 💞 I am truly sorry if this was boring!! It’s just the set up so pleeease stick around

TAGLIST (OPEN): @appropriate-writers-name @thesandbeneathmytoes @abby-splace @tartanbumsters @noz4a2 @sesamepancakes @montanaraed

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dragonesszena · 2 years ago

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Bleach Anime Celebration 2022 - Day 5: Something Old, Something New

Tags: Uryu x OC, I’m back on my bs again yes, confession scenes are too fun, uryu needs more love in his life and i’m going to provide that if it kills me, no warnings, rating pg

In the months that had passed since they had returned from Hueco Mundo, things had settled into what could almost be called peacefulness, if one wasn’t superstitious about saying something like that aloud. Uryu typically wasn’t, but after being severely wounded several times battling Arrancars he wasn’t going to risk tempting fate. Besides, he felt distinctly unsettled as he stood outside Urahara’s shop, though in this case it wasn’t due to any sort of enemy or threat leveled at him. No, it was because he was making another in a series of spectacularly bad decisions as he stepped into the shop, making his way past the ever quarreling Jinta and Ururu without sparing them a glance.

Urahara was sitting in the back room at a low table, holding a lemon drop up to the light with a pair of chopsticks. “She’s downstairs,” he said as Uryu entered the room, and just the fact that the man knew what he was there for without having to ask twisted Uryu’s stomach further. “Here, try this,” he added, holding the candy out to him still pinched between the chopsticks.

“No,” Uryu replied flatly, also not bothering to ask questions.

“It won’t hurt you,” Urahara pressed, waving it at him. Uryu didn’t dignify him with a response, though he gave the man more of a wide berth than he usually would as he walked around him.

He had plenty of time to second guess himself during the long descent into the training room Urahara had created underneath his shop, but while he knew he should climb right back out and go about his day, his feet hit the sand floor and he turned to scan the terrain for Rina’s form. He couldn’t see her, which was of no surprise to him considering how massive the room was, but he could sense her spiritual pressure not far away. The explosion that rang out a moment later was a good indicator of her location as well.

Uryu made his way up the gentle slope of the hill before him, easily spotting her at its base on the other side. Target dummies were set up a distance away, several of which were now nothing more than smoldering ash around the broken stake that had held them up.

“Hadō number thirty-three, Sōkatsui!” she called, a bolt of blue energy erupting from her hands and soaring over the sand to collide with one of the dummies, obliterating it like the others. Rina paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and putting her wrists together, palms out. “Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! On the wall of blue flame, inscribe a twin lotus. In the abyss of conflagration, wait at the far heavens! Hadō number seventy-three, Sōren Sōkatsui!” she called out, gathering more energy between her fingers and thrusting her palms out to cast it forward. The resulting twin beams were far more powerful than the Hadō spell she’d just used, but as they reached the halfway point between her and her target, Uryu felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Rina seemed to have had a similar reaction, or else she felt herself lose control of the spell, as before he could react she yelped and jumped backwards, vanishing as the spell erupted where it was with a deafening bang and massive cloud of smoke. She reappeared up the slope closer to him, her curse preceding her out of her flash step.

“Well obviously I thought I could!” she exclaimed, to whom he didn’t know since he couldn’t sense anyone else nearby. “It almost worked…” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest as the haze below started to clear. She’d made quite a dent in the ground, but her intended target was entirely untouched.

Uryu lifted his arm, summoning his bow in his right hand. She started to turn at the sound of him drawing it, only to whip her head back around with wide eyes as he arced his shot far wide of her to slam into the dummy, reducing it to a similar pile of ash as the rest. “Looks like it did to me,” he commented.

“How did you…?” she asked, tracing the arrow’s path in the air with a finger. He hadn’t been intending to show off, but he’d admit some part of him was pleased that she was impressed.

“It’s not hard,” he replied unpretentiously despite that. It had been, at one point, but he’d had plenty of practice since then.

“So modest,” she said softly, so he could barely hear her. “Anyway, what brings you over here?” He’d briefly forgotten why he was visiting the shop in the past few moments, but as she asked him he felt the anxiety hit him again.

“I was hoping to talk to you. Not here, though,” he added when she tipped her head to the side. She blinked at him, a faint wrinkle appearing on her forehead as her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but she nodded her agreement.

“Sure, let me just… go change.” By which she no doubt really meant “let me go put on a Gigai so you don’t look like you’re talking to yourself like a crazy person”, which he appreciated. Not that they talked much as they walked out of town, up into the wooded area surrounding Karakura. He hadn’t been able to think of another place where they wouldn’t be disturbed, and he hadn’t visited the place for many, many months, having been too busy between Hueco Mundo and then being the sole protector of their home.

Even with the time that had passed, nothing had changed. The stream still ran through the woods, feeding into the waterfall that could be seen through the trees. The only difference that he could see from last time was that the flowers had bloomed.

“Oh, wow, look at the Osmanthus,” Rina said, crouching next to one of the flowering bushes to study it. Uryu took a seat on a rock nearby, trying to let the peace and quiet of the forest quell the nervousness within him. It worked, if only slightly. He couldn’t help but run his fingers over the Quincy Cross around his right wrist idly, his mind drifting as he tried to decide how to start the conversation. He’d spent the past week thinking of and discarding so, so many different options, and had hoped that just coming out here would somehow give him the right thing to say.

So far, it hadn’t.

“This place is beautiful,” Rina commented after a time, startling him as she sat beside him as he hadn’t noticed she’d moved.

“My grandfather used to bring me here when I was younger,” he replied. “I’ve used it as a training ground ever since.”

“What was he like?” she asked softly. It was the last question he’d expected to have been asked, especially from a Soul Reaper, but he realized he should have expected it from her. She actually cared about the people around her, something that had surprised him when she’d helped him in the Soul Society.

“He was the kindest man I know, and maybe the wisest,” Uryu replied with a faint smile. “He taught me everything I know about being a Quincy. He was trying to negotiate a peace with the Soul Reapers but…” He didn’t have to finish the story. She had overheard enough of his fight with Mayuri to know it ended in tragedy.

“I wish I could have met him,” she said, so quietly that he didn’t think she realized she was speaking aloud. As such, he didn’t respond, though he realized he felt the same way. “What would he think of you being friends with a bunch of Soul Reapers?” she asked a moment later, a gentle teasing note in her voice.

He laughed softly as he tried to think of what his grandfather would have said. “I think he’d be happy for me,” he replied finally. “At least he’d know there’s good Soul Reapers out there who want to work with us.” He paused, pushing his glasses up to block his face briefly as he felt a flush spreading across his cheeks. “I don’t know what he’d think of me starting to fall for one though.”

He heard her quiet gasp at his admission, but the silence that followed was a special kind of agony. He didn’t dare look over, not sure what he would see on her face if he did and dreading some of the possibilities.

“I guess you don’t know what he’d think of one falling for you too then,” she said finally. A wave of relief broke over him, forcing out a shaky exhalation.

“Maybe he’d be happy about that too,” he offered. His father certainly wouldn’t be, he thought as he finally looked over and Rina smiled before looking away shyly. He couldn’t imagine the hell that would come of Ryūken learning that not only was he spending time with a Soul Reaper but he also cared for one and had admitted as such. It wasn’t that he cared what the man thought, but he did prefer to keep him out of his life as much as possible and him finding out about any of this would do the opposite.

“I don’t want-” he began, only to cut himself off. “My father-“ he started again, then changed his mind with a frustrated sound. “I’d prefer if this wasn’t common knowledge,” he concluded finally, deciding that was the gentlest way to say it without having to get into his dynamic with Ryūken.

“I get it,” she replied, reaching over to rest her hand on his and squeezing it gently. “I won’t say anything to anyone.”

He nodded gratefully, tentatively lacing his fingers through hers. She shifted closer, leaning over to rest her head against his shoulder. He knew they should be getting back before much longer, or else their absence would truly begin drawing questions. For now, though, he was more than content to sit there with her and spend some time together, creating new memories in this place that already held so many for him.

#bleach returns 2022 #uryu ishida #uryu x oc #bleach #fic

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sepublic · 3 years ago

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This has probably already been pointed out by someone else, but I have to wonder if the Taka- prefix means something along the lines of Light, the same way the Av- prefix does for the Matoran language?

Because we have two characters whose names start with the Taka- prefix, the first being Takanuva, Toa of Light; And then Takadox, who stands out with his bioluminescence and glowing red eyes that can hypnotize people. And come to think of it, Takanuva can also sway others, albeit in a more genuine manner using the Avohkii’s power to foster good will.

While we don’t know if his bioluminescence was always a thing, Takadox has had his hypnosis since prior to his mutations, so that’d further strengthen the interpretation of the Taka- prefix as being related to light... Maybe some type of charming, alluring light to contrast with Av-, like that of an Angler? Not that Takanuva is any predator, though one could argue he IS the bane of Shadow...

Anyhow, going by this interpretation makes me wonder if this can give us an idea of how to interpret Takadox’s original species, from a fanon perspective. Given how his name invokes Light, maybe Takadox’s species are moth people, who would naturally find Takadox’s powers even more divine and susceptible as a result- Thus helping validate Takadox in their eyes as a divinely-ordained ruler.

Takadox’s species being moth people would also fit his mutation, since he went from one type of insect to another... So you have these otherwise beautiful (since the Barraki were described as handsome prior to being mutated) moth people who place a lot of cultural relevance around Light- Thus making someone like Takadox even more awe-inspiring in their eyes, like moths to a flame/light.

Moths are also noted for their colorful patterns, so that’s a lot of fun to work with for making OCs and fleshing our species variety for Takadox- Creating graceful, elegant beings with bright eyes and elaborate patterns. And of course, this also makes me think of how Mothman is described with big red eyes, so is Takadox the Matoran Universe equivalent to him???

#bionicle #takanuva #takadox #barraki #speculation #linguistics #fanon #headcanon #headcanons

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bionicboxes · 2 years ago

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👉🏽👈🏽 Can I know abt the vague oc stories??

I would luv hearing about them!!

I'll just focus in on one since there's a lot of,, ideas to all of them just not a lot finalized. So a bit of rambling about AHE Project: (by a bit I mean a lot)

I've summarized the basic of the plot before but here's it again-

A government experiment in the 80s results in a man-made eldritch horror (the A.H.E Entity) which gathers a group of followers who it persuades to kill for it with one goal; to grow stronger and stronger. 19 year old Rem finds herself wrapped up in the fight to destroy the entity and kill its followers after being murdered and, somehow, persisting after death.

Groups of note:

A.H.E Project: The 'Artificial Human Essence' Project is the name of the experiment which (unintentionally) created the AHE Entity. The government maintains the Entity's life as they've not been able to succeed at recreating the result and hope to learn more about the nature of the soul. They don't truly realize just how big the risk is, though.

Followers of the Soul: The followers of the AHE Entity. They often know nothing to little about other followers, and have a varied loyalty to the AHE itself. Those who attempt to defect, however, are killed by its other followers with very, very few people escaping with their lives.

Heart-Breakers: A group of government defectors and surviving victims of AHE's followers which aims to kill it and its followers.

WolfWood High School: The school Rem went to prior to her graduation and untimely death, where many of her friends are attending their last year. Many of its students and teachers have become targets of the AHE's followers, specifically, the man who killed Rem begins hunting down her friends.

the whole thing is kind of a,, riff? on slasher movies. Rem was ‘supposed to’ be the ‘final girl’ but died in her friend’s ‘place’ after volunteering to stay behind and clean up after a party while everyone else went on ahead. The rest of her friends similarly fill out slasher victim tropes but will ideally be subverted or fleshed out beyond that in some way.

I haven’t decided on names for this friend group, though I’ve given them all a character color (Rem’s is purple). I’ve decided Red dies first (well, second, Rem dies first), because red shirt trope haha. Red’s most likely going to be a jock trope. The friend who was 'supposed' to die and becomes the new 'Final girl' is green, and I do have a name for her that might stick- Penelope/Penny.

The AHE Entity itself isn’t necessarily EVIL. Antagonistic and needs to be stopped, definitely, but it doesn’t exactly have evil intentions. The AHE Entity was an attempt to make ‘Artificial Human Essences’- a soul, basically. But its missing something that normal human souls have. So it needs to ‘feed’ on real souls to maintain itself and grow stronger. Because its physical form is contained and lacks the capability to do this on its own, it appeals to people psychically to get them to kill for it.

The more souls it consumes, the farther from its physical body this psychic call can reach, and the more powerful it becomes. Eventually, it won’t need followers to kill for it, it will be able to do it on its own.. Which would very much lead to an end-of-the-world situation if its allowed to get to that point. It isn’t really any more evil than a fox eating a chicken, but it’s a hell of a lot smarter and more dangerous.

The AHE Entity isn’t really able to do much physically, but I’ve played around with the idea of it being able to open a gateway to another plane of existence that’s akin to purgatory, outside of time and space, that its followers ‘hide’ in. I’m not exactly sure about the limitations of it yet though. If I do decide to stick with this, Rem would also have access to it since she’s a ghost, though that might take her some time to figure out.

There’s. a lot of characters. or a lot of potential characters at least, and I think that’s part of what’s stopping me from making things more concrete.

#hopefully this rambling tangent actually makes some sense #its a whole lot of words for not actually that much information im realizing. whoops #AHE Project #boxes talks

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heniareth · 3 years ago

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Hi! OC ask for Astala :)

What was your OC's favorite toy/item as a child?

Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures?

How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations?

What demon would your OC be most susceptible to and how would the demon best tempt/manipulate them?

How has your OC changed since you created them?

Hey there!! Thank you the ask (and for giving me many questions to expound upon >:), this is gonna get some interesting answers. Since I have only one Dragon Age oc, it's time to talk about Astala Tabris.

What was your OC's favorite toy/item as a child?

Astala had a stuffed mabari toy by the name of Helm when she was little (the name comes from a weird obsession with the verb to helm. She picked that one up from stories her parents told her, which resulted in a four-year old declaring very earnestly she would "helm" whatever activity the family was about to partake in). Helm would patiently watch her train with her mother, give her some much-needed company while both her parents were at work, and embark on grand quests and adventures alongside the other children in the alienage. When Astala was nine, her mother got taken by humans in company of real mabari - big, snarling, muscly things that reached up to her chest. Astala has been afraid of mabari since that day, even of her old companion Helm. At around that time, her father took in his recently deceased sister's daughter, Shianni. At his suggestion, Astala agreed to give Helm to her cousin to help her adjust to her new life. Shianni has kept Helm up to this day.

Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures?

She doesn't, or at least not easily. Astala prides herself on being a careful person with a gut instinct that seldomly misleads her. When a course of action does lead to failure, it breaks her image of herself amd her confidence in her ability to keep herself safe. Navigating the human world has imprinted upon her the need to dance the very fine line between self-preservation, standing up for herself and/or for others, and avoiding trouble for the rest of her community. Stumbling in that dance can lead to disastrous consequences, which is exactly what happened after the rescue mission turned slaughter that is her origin story. In retaliation (or so he claims), Rendon Howe purges the alienage. Here's how Astala reacts to that:

"Don't. Don't say you're proud of me." The words had to squeeze through her throat, but she choked them out nonetheless. "Don't you know? The purge you avoided has happened. Because of me."

Adaia Tabris’ face grew hard. “Those men had it coming, Astala. The death of our neighbours lies on the humans, not on you.”

“But they died anyway.” Astala stared at the spirit.

It has happened and nothing can undo it. Astala struggles with that.

How does their education and intelligence - or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary and pronounciation?

Astala has had a decent education (math, reading and writing, history and legends, as well as schooling in the Chant of the Light because Maker forbid the elves make up their own version of the chant). As far as intelligence goes, her strongest suit is interpersonal and analytical intelligence. This factors very much into her way of speaking. She has, in broad terms, two registers; one for people she isn't familiar with, doesn't trust, and/or whose opinion she values highly, and the other one for people she is comfortable and familiar with (her cousins, friends, and after she's gotten to know them, the companions). For the first group of people, she tends to use more complex words and "proper" grammar, mirror their manner of speaking and speak from the back of her throat, with a higher pitch. With people she's comfortable with, she'll shorten sentences, contract or omit words, swear and speak in a deeper pitch out of her chest. Here are two examples to contrast both styles:

Style 1:

“I’m sure milord Urien would like to avoid knowledge of his escapades to reach the high ladies of Denerim,” Astala answered. "And there's no need to make a fuss. If you leave and forget this ever happened, we shall return the courtesy."

Style 2:

"Right? It's terrible! I never knew if I should hide or help her," Astala laughed. "Though she wasn't doing it to guilt anyone. It was work, y'know? It put her on edge and then she'd do laundry until she calmed down."

What demon would your OC be most susceptible to and how would the demon best tempt/manipulate them?

Boy oh boy, this is a tough one. I just went and read up on the different types of demons and there are a handful that could fit. Rage would be one, because Astala carries a lot of grief that manifests itself as rage when she lets it out (she's a warrior with the Champion and Berserker specialization). A Rage demon out to posess her would be best served if it catches her in the middle of battle or another moment where she is full of rage and tempt her to forget or ignore the consequences and implications of killing. A demon embodying Vengeance or Bloodlust might do the trick.

Another demon Astala would be susceptible to is a Fear demon. She is terrified of dying, and if she's backed into a corner without a way out, there's a good chance that she'd allow a demon in in order to survive.

How has your OC changed since you created them?

The most obvious thing that's changed about her is her appearance. In my first playthrough, she looked like this and her name was Estela, not Astala:

This was before I knew what either of her parents looked like, so I based the Warden from the first playthrough on a character I'd already made, an elven paladin called Estelleth. Estelleth is veeery happy-go-lucky and an eternal optimist, but Estela the Warden became a very different person the more I played her. And since her personality had changed so much and I wanted there to be a family resemblance between the Warden and her parents, for the second playthrough I created Astala: new name, new looks, new feel. She basically kicked down my door like "Hey, I'm a different character from the eternal sunshine over there." And who am I to deny somebody their personhood and story (the only drawback to that is that I drown in character I do very little with)

---

Aaaaand there we are!! This was lots of fun XD XD XD Thank you for the questions, for letting me ramble about my girl and for prompting me to flesh her out, because I had no idea about the mabari toy before I set to answer this ask. I hope you enjoyed reading this ^^

#astala tabris #warden tabris #dao #dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age: origins #da:o #da: o #da: origins #the warden #hero of ferelden #the hero of ferelden #ask game #for fun #my ocs

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dassandre-00qpidsarrow · 4 years ago

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Fics of 2020 Highlights

Rules. it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works! I apparently wrote a lot of words last year. Over 100k of them with a beloved writing partner, so I can't know exactly how many of them are mine, but I was pretty prolific solo, too. And though 2020 sucked -- really, really sucked! -- in general, I'm quite pleased by many of my stories. I hope you all were, too. This list is chronological by posting date. Tagged by @ato-the-bean

24 Years of Christmases: Chapter 22 - "North Star" - Series Rating: E (Chapter published 1/2020)

Chapter Summary

: Christmas Eve was festive but subdued. Hushed with moments of cheer that came from family being together and shared stories of Christmases past: Violet’s with Siger before the boys were born, the year Remy got the best of Mycroft and Sherlock with mince pies liberally laced with castor oil, the Christmas when Emma was nine and she spent the entire night waiting up for Father Christmas only to wake up under the tree wrapped in her father’s arms. James even told a ribald tale of Christmas he spent in a Bedouin encampment in the middle of the Sahara.

This is a particularly painful chapter in the Bond/Holmes Clan’s Christmas experiences, but it is one that I think gets to the heart of who James and Q (Remy) are as a couple.

Without Being Told - Co-authored with @boffin1710 - Rating E - WiP (Published 4/2020; 165k and counting)

Summary

: The disaster made of Westminster Bridge and dismantling the remnants of Nine Eyes were only the beginning of the mess that needed to be cleaned up after James Bond walked away from everything hand-in-hand with Madeleine Swann. Sooner or later, something was going to break. No one expected it to be The Quartermaster.

Boffin and I set out to tell a story about what would happen if James Bond came back to MI6 after faffing off with Madeleine Swann and found that Q no longer worked there. Not only did a character overthrow the initial plan and claim Q (Ellery) as his own despite the authors’ initial intentions, but ... WOW! The response to this fic is nothing either one of us anticipated. We are truly humbled by all the readers and the comments and want to do justice by them and the characters as we make our way toward the ending.

Sefa, The Publican - Part of “The Hole and Corner” series - Rating NR (Published 7/2020)

Summary: This is part of the series "The Hole and Corner" which focuses on a pub of the same name. This pub is the best-kept secret in London. Literally. The only ones who know about it are those who work for MI6. It is *their* pub. It's a place where they can safely relax and talk without always having to watch their back. Some chapters focus on characters we already know. Other chapters, like this one, center around original characters who help "flesh out" the entire pub experience.

This chapter fulfilled a collaborative prompt square for 007Fest. Soufflegirl91 asked to learn more about The Hole and Corner's publican, Sefa, who was introduced in the first part of this series, "The Pub." I have come to adore Sefa, as do most of her patrons. She is particularly enamored of Q who feels much the same.

Cupcake - 1904 words of utter fluff and crack (Published 7/2020) - Rating NR

Summary

: The resulting explosion of tart lemon counterbalanced with the sweet raspberry across his taste buds nearly sent James in paroxysms of gastric joy. It was the best damn thing Bond had ever eaten.

This story came about from a photo of a cupcake provided to me by

@boffin1710

who said the cupcake was the best he’d ever eaten. Of course, after a foodie review like that, I had to turn it into a fic. A photo of said cupcake can be found at the bottom of the story.

Long Day ... or Was it a Week? Part of “The Hole and Corner” series; Co-Authored with @boffin1710 - Rating NR (Published 8/2020)

Summary

: The Hole and Corner sees to the needs of its patrons in ways you just can't find in any other pub.

Another glimpse into The Hole and Corner and how Sefa meets the needs of her unique patrons. Q, in particular, is often in need of some TLC. I really enjoy writing in this series and hope to have more stories set there soon.

They’re Only Words - Co-Authored with @boffin1710 (Published 10/2020)

Summary

: “We’re all too bloody busy, and until you complete the required Psych evaluation, you are banned from your Branch. Get it done, Q!”

Q faces off with Psych and finds an unexpected ally along the way. This ended up being a rather unique piece for both Boffin and me. It’s more of a character study/exploration of Q and his interactions with an OC Double-O.

I know this is six stories, rather than the five listed, but I had a hard time choosing.

Tagging:

@boffin1710 @notwhatyouthoughtiwas @iambid @1amvengeance @frickandfrack83

#00q fic #00Q00 #AO3 fanfic #dassandre (00QpidsArrow)

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thegoodprincess · 3 years ago

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Together We Are Apart, but Apart We Are Together | KTH Ch. 2

Author: thegoodprincess

Pairing: Kim Taehyung | Original Female Character

Genre: romance, fantasy, action, forbidden love, human KTH | angel of death OC, supernatural au

Word Count: 2.1k [series, ongoing]

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of violence [a stabbing occurs]

Summary: After admiring a handsome boy from afar, an Angel of Death reluctantly rescues him from his own demise. As a result of going against her better judgment she inadvertently invites him into her world.

youtube

(I recommend listening to this song while reading)

Together We are Apart, but Apart We Are Together

Chapter 2. Fate

“Fate has a funny way of intervening in people’s lives.” ― Katie Ashley

It was a few months later in the dead of winter when I was walking near the Han River. Due to the icy temperatures the river was partially frozen. The ground surrounding it was coated in a fresh blanket of snow that came down earlier in the day. A chilly breeze nipped at the tender flesh of my cheek, causing an involuntary shiver to rake down my spine.

Sighing out my condensed breath formed a cloud that mingled with the crisp air. I glanced up at the sky. Overhead the pale moon glowed bright, illuminating the night sky against the backdrop of countless glittery stars. Looking around I stood alone admiring the the way the shadows created by the city lights flitted across the pavement. It was quiet, not eerily so, but in a way that emphasized the bare stillness of wintertime. Most people were at home presumably getting ready to go to sleep as it was fairly late.

I was waiting for my next patron to arrive: a man who was going to be murdered during a robbery gone wrong. This was a common occurrence for me. I was one of many angels of death. I was not a malevolent force. I did not decide who lived and who died, and how the act itself was carried out. I simply collected the souls of the fallen and escorted them to the afterlife.

It was bittersweet condoling the newly deceased once they realized their predicament. I would allow them to say their last goodbyes to loved ones and others they deemed fit before they departed into the light. But it was harrowing having to witness death first hand and being strictly forbid from interfering.

I had seen countless people perish a variety of ways. I had seen it all from natural deaths having to do with diseases or natural processes like aging, to accidental deaths like car fatalities. Suicides and homicides were some of the worst. While death was inevitable, loss of life done by the hands of oneself or by another wasn’t. There always lied a choice, humans just choose to be masters of their own and sometimes other’s destinies.

While I was a creation of purity, I had been become well acquainted with grief. It was almost as if I was stuck in an endless cycle; each time the metaphorical wound was healed it was being habitually ripped open. In the grand scheme of things it was woefully the one major downside of the duty. Tonight would be no different. I would again begrudgingly be a bystander to yet another fateful demise.

As if on cue an older man adorn in designer clothing came into view, walking cautiously with shifting eyes assessing his surroundings. His shoulders were tensed and his pace was quick as he shuffled across the sidewalk. He looked genuinely frightened as if he was paranoid that someone was following him, and I guess he wasn’t wrong.

Then seemingly from the shadows a man wearing a black ski mask and gloves appeared from behind some foliage. He snuck up and roughly grabbed the older gentleman from behind with gloved hands, startling him.

The two men fought for a short while until the masked man managed to get his forearm around the older gentleman’s neck. He began to strangle him. However, I don’t think the masked man’s intent was to maliciously murder him. Rather he was meaning to strangle the older man to the point of him passing out. This would ensure that the masked man could steal his wallet without the risk of being followed and potentially caught.

But nevertheless, the masked man exerted lethal pressure for way longer than necessary to the elder’s neck. The older man’s knees began to buckle and his struggling became less erratic. Regardless of the older gentleman involuntarily becoming compliant, the masked man had yet to let up his hold on him. The older gentleman’s arms dangled limply at his sides. He was dying.

Just then a third party came into view. I was bewildered as I wasn’t expecting anyone else to show up. A young man with a bag slung over his shoulder was inching closer and closer, until his face came into view. He seemed vaguely familiar, the distance between us was making it hard to distinguish certain features.

Then almost instantly I recognized him. It was the boy whose face I had found to be bewitching. He was indelibly engrained into my memory. While I had stopped secretly hoping to catch a serendipitous glimpse of him when I was out, there hadn’t been a day that went by where I didn’t wonder what he was doing, who he was with, or if he even frequented the same places.

He still looked the same dressed smartly in a white turtleneck, tan trousers, wool trench coat, and tartan print scarf. It was apparent that the overcast winter weather had subtly lightened his complexion by a few shades. The only significant difference about him was his hair. His once dark locks had been dyed to a golden blonde hue. In addition to the new color, the parting of his hair now showcased his entire forehead.

Regardless of the butterflies that had erupted in my abdomen from seeing him again, the feeling dissipated all too soon as my stomach sunk. There had never been a greater time where I wished he hadn’t show up, especially considering the circumstances of this situation.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

My veins ran cold, as if the very ice water of the river before us, coursed through them. Every hair on the back of my neck rose on end. I silently prayed he would turn around back in the direction he came from and not involved himself. But I was sorely mistaken. He stopped in his tracks, witnessing the killing of the elder. Swiftly dropping his bag, he ran over to help.

What ensued caused me to let out an audible gasp. The boy threw a hard punch and was able to stun the masked man momentarily, as the criminal fell to the ground. Assuming the masked man to be knocked out, the boy then attempted to help the older man who fell to his knees gasping for breath. Crouching down, the boy pulled out his phone to call for an ambulance. But his attempt was short lived.

Rising from his place on the ground a bit disoriented, the robber fumbled around in his front coat pocket and hastily pulled out a small pistol rashly pointing it at the pair with a quivering hand. The older gentleman cowered low behind the younger boy, almost as if he was using him as a shield. The boy’s arms immediately came up to surrender, remaining perfectly still. The gunman agitated at the boy’s heroics fixed his aim directly to the boy’s chest. He was purposely planning to deliver a fatal shot to his heart. All to quickly the gun shot’s sound reverberated off the concrete. I could only watch in horror.

In that moment the world seemed to turn upside down. My mind was reeling. I felt dizzy, bile crept up into my throat while all I felt was I was my heart slamming against my ribcage. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the bullet exited the barrel of the gun. Naturally the boy screwed his eyes shut while he tensed his entire body, bracing himself for the inevitable impact. A second later he flinched backwards.

Shortly after the deafening crack of the bullet penetrated my eardrums, I squinted my eyes to check where the boy had been shot. To my relief the middle of his chest was still intact, but a bright red substance began to slowly spread from his shoulder region and seep down into the area where his heart lay beating. The gunman had indeed missed his intended target, and instead shot clean through the boy’s left shoulder. The boy’s facial expression twisted into a state of confusion, shocked at what had just occurred. I assumed the adrenaline numbed his senses, altering his frame of mind.

The older gentlemen looked like he wanted to help but he remained unmoving still afraid to come out from behind the boy. The gunman tried to shoot again but to some miracle his trigger jammed. Seeing this as an opportunity to escape, the older man quickly abandoned the boy, scurrying off without looking back. But the boy was too weak to follow, he remained holding his shoulder nearly doubled over. The pain was beginning to set in.

In an effort to make due with the boy, the gunman reached into his interior coat pocket to withdraw his hand holding an odd black object. It was revealed to be a switchblade when he subtlety flicked his wrist and the blade sprung out. Since the older man escaped on the boy’s behalf, the masked man felt it was only fair the boy be robbed instead. The boy assessing the situation held out one of his hands as if to plead for mercy. A pained grimace painted his pretty face.

Then I saw the boy’s lips begin to move. The two appeared to be exchanging words. I felt petrified, so I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Their voices came out distorted, sounding more like unintelligible mumbles than any actual language. It was as though they were talking underwater.

In a last ditch attempt to save himself from further harm, I saw the boy slowly reach into his back pocket with his good hand and pull out his wallet. He dangled the wallet in front him to show the criminal before he chucked it into the snow at the criminal’s feet, hoping this would satisfy the man.

The man hastily grabbed the wallet off the ground and excitedly opened it to reveal its contents. But his smile soon faltered, boiling anger brewing in his eyes instead.

Originally it seemed he didn’t intended to stab the boy after already shooting him in a fit of blind rage, the knife was just the extra assurance he needed to intimidate the boy into cooperating. But the boy stuck his nose in business that didn’t concern him and ultimately costed the masked man.

Not only did the boy escalate the situation and cause the victim he purposely targeted to get away, but the masked man wasted time and energy grappling with the boy which increased the likelihood of him being seen and or arrested by the authorities. He went through all that troublesome effort and for what? Some chump change he could have easily pickpocketed off someone on the subway. He was throughly pissed.

The criminal was going to teach the boy a lesson. Taking the measly amount of bills out, he hurled what remained of the wallet back into the snow. He stalked closer to the boy ready to attack with a sadistic smirk.

Slowly the boy began taking small steps backwards subconsciously putting distance between him and the impending danger. Unfortunately he was unknowingly inching closer to the water.

But all hell broke loose when the boy accidentally slipped on some dangerously slick ice that caused him to lose his balance. He then clumsily stumbled backwards and plunged into the frigid water of the river, breaking through the ice in the process.

The gunman realizing the gravity of the situation, almost instantly snapped out of his aggressive trance-like state and stood there with a blank expression. It was then that he began to visibly panic, nervously looking around to see if anyone else had witnessed what had just happened. He apprehensively neared the edge of the river and looked as though he was debating whether to help the boy or not. But he knew if he did, it would only further incriminate him.

Deciding to conceal his involvement in tonight’s events, he plucked the jammed gun and wallet from the snow and hurriedly planted the two respective items by the river’s edge.

The gunman made it appear as though the boy had committed suicide by first shooting himself and then falling into the river. He subsequently raked his feet sloppily over the snow in a back and forth motion to disguise his shoe prints. Once he was pleased enough with his work, he bolted off fleeing the scene.

Quickly wrenching myself from my deep stupor, I rushed over without taking a second to assess the severity of my actions and immediately jumped in to rescue the boy.

#taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung x oc #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts army #bts supernatural au #taehyung

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darkest-fluid · 3 years ago

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Fic ask game: 1,2, 6, 8, 18, 23

You always pick such great questions!

1: Is writing cathartic or stressful for you?

I would say it's about equal parts of both. Often the process of writing can be very stressful for me, but that isn't because I don't enjoy it. It's more to do with my mental health difficulties. Anxiety, adhd, executive dysfunction, maladaptive perfectionism and imposter syndrome amount to a fairly potent mix of obstacles when it comes to creative projects. That said, when I actually do get things written, getting to look back over it and see that I've made something is a very cool feeling, especially if I manage to write anything that accurately captures the mood or message that I wanted to convey. So it's difficult, but the end result is always worth it.

2: Do you focus on attention to detail when you read fics? Are you more or less attention to detail focused when you write fics?

I'm a very detail oriented person. So much so, in fact, that I corrected a spelling error in this question after I pasted it, because looking at it was bugging me. 😅 I do pay a lot of attention to detail when I read, and I always appreciate when an author puts thought into things like subtext and realism and character motivation, but I'm not hunting for mistakes or trying to be judgmental or anything. I think I'm probably more detail-focused as a writer than as a reader, given my writing habits. Perhaps a little too detail focused, at times.

6: What are some topics you will never write about?

Oh, that's a tough one. I honestly feel like there isn't much that I would avoid, if the circumstances were right. There are topics that I would not write in certain ways, but if I had free reign to handle it my own way, then I could be open to almost anything. Incest would be extremely hard, I think, because I used to be in a relationship with someone who was an incest survivor and so that topic is very touchy for me. But I could still write about it if it was important to the story and I was able to treat it delicately. I think really the boundaries for me are more in the portrayal than in the subject itself. I would never fetishize anything that I find traumatic or upsetting, which is one of the reasons I tend to avoid unbalanced or abusive power dynamics in erotic fiction.

8: How do you develop your OCs?

It isn't always exactly the same every time, but I generally start with a broad concept and then flesh out the details. Often that concept will have some kind of symbolism tied to it. For Lyr, I started with my actual BG3 OC, who was a rogue (because I love to play rogues.) And then I thought about what kind of story I wanted to tell, and the symbolism of water and the ocean really appealed to me. Emotions, depth, freedom, hidden things, forces of nature, etc. Blood also contains water, and water has symbolic ties to telepathy. I think about those kinds of things in the early stages, and then I start to form an actual person out of it. Usually I try to give that person some qualities that go against stereotype. I also invariably give them at least a few qualities that I can identify with, as that makes it easier for me as an author to inhabit the character. Understanding their emotional temperament is important for me, since I tend to write from a more emotional/impressionist POV. So I spend a lot of time fine-tuning that. Figuring out their motivation is an important step, also. What does this character want, both in the short term and more broadly? What do they believe in? As for backstory, I will usually figure that out as I am building their personality. I don't do one and then the other. I'll start with a rough idea for character traits, then I'll write some basic backstory notes, then I'll use that to expand and refine the personality, then I'll write some more backstory, and so on. Each informs the other.

18: Do you feel like your work gets enough recognition? What kind of feedback do you like to receive?

What I hope for, with my writing, is that it will resonate with the people who read it. I think that's really what recognition means to me: knowing that someone read my work and was able to get something from it. It makes me feel like I'm connecting with people, even if very distantly. I feel very grateful and lucky that there are people out there who read and enjoy my work. Even if that number was very small, it would still make me happy. So in that sense, yes. I am happy with the recognition I receive. I love getting feedback about specific things within the story that a reader enjoyed or derived meaning from, and I love getting to see what kinds of details people pick up on.

If I'm being 100% truthful, I do feel a bit sad sometimes that the people who know me in person don't have any interest in reading my work. (I probably would not show them my fanfic, but I have plenty of original writing as well.) I always really enjoy getting to see the things my friends, family and partners create, so the lack of interest from them is hard for me sometimes. Though it's less about recognition, and more about the lack of connection. Writing is such a personal thing. Sharing it with people is like sharing a part of yourself, and I wish I could share more with them.

23: What's one piece of advice you would give to anyone who wants to start writing or posting their writing online?

Writing is like any other skill: the more you do it, the better you will get. It took me around 15 years before I hit a point where I started to really be happy with my writing ability. If you find that you're struggling to get in enough writing practice, collaborative writing (including text-based roleplaying) can be an awesome way to motivate yourself. And if you're looking for tips and feedback, writing workshops, writing groups and beta readers can be incredibly valuable tools.

Another bit of advice: don't apologize for your writing. If a reader likes your story, they will focus on the bits they enjoy. Drawing attention to the flaws will only serve to make them more obvious. Let the work stand on its own.

#asks #writing #df writes #personal

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