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not-a-coral-snake · 3 years ago

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So I read Dark Rise back in November, and I immediately wanted to do like an initial thoughts post and then reread the book and post stuff that jumped out on the reread. So I wrote up this post in outline form as that initial messy thoughts review . . . and then I didn’t finish writing up the whole thing until now because job family irl obligations etc. So this is dated. I’ve already done the reread, but it doesn’t feature in this post. And like expect a flurry of Dark Rise content in the next couple weeks lol.

Okay so the thing is, I wasn't originally planning to read Dark Rise. Not for anything in particular to do with the premise, but because I typically don't really enjoy YA novels. But I decided to after reading this twitter thread of Pacat's. First Narnia and later The Lord of the Rings were absolutely central not just to my development as a reader when I was a kid, but also just. my childhood. my internal fantasy life. my sense of being. But I could relate also to Pacat's feeling of isolation from their characters. So I was really interested where Pacat would take a commentary on English pastoral fantasies, particularly one that not only wanted to interrogate their flaws but also explore what makes them so compelling. And going into Dark Rise, my biggest question was whether or not thirteen-year-old me would have liked this book.

The answer is yes. Resoundingly so. Thirteen-year-old me would have gone absolutely feral for this book. (My middle school angsty half-elf-half-something-evil OCs are between me and God, so you'll just have to take my word for it.)

Following is my "review" of the book, which is really more of a list of thoughts I had reading it--things I liked, analysis, theories, stuff I'm curious about going forward or would like to see in fanworks.

First, in my opinion Dark Rise doesn't feel very YA. It feels more like if you took a middle-grade readers book and made the plot and character dynamics of a complexity better suited to teenagers. (Okay, I can't articulate exactly how that's different than YA, especially since Dark Rise does some have some of the elements that I think of as characteristic of YA, like lots of focus on finding out Who You Are and characters getting distracted by romantic subplots at inoportune times so the difference is just. Vibes I guess?) But anyway I would definitely encourage people who don't normally like YA to give this book a try.

Okay some more random thoughts. I loved the sibling dynamics in this book: Katherine and Elizabeth, who are so different and probably each think of the other as the weird sister, who nonetheless are each so protective of each other and capable of acting like a unit. Cyprian, the perfect novice until his brother comes up, at which point he becomes absolutely feral. Violet, who seems to already be trying to navigate growing apart from her brother as a part of growing older when all the good-and-evil, life-and-death stuff started to happen. Who can't just stop putting him at the center of her world once she knows what's going on. And Tom, the wildcard. It seems like Tom is insisting on remaining loyal to Violet, thinking the best of her regardless of the evidence against her, but who knows how much Tom knows of their father's plans?

In the post-canon fanfic-generating version of events in my head, I like to imagine that at some point Will, Violet, Cyprian, James, Elizabeth, Grace and Sarah are traveling around the world having adventures like the Avatar the Last Airbender gang. I just want to see all the kids interacting in an environment that involves both fighting together in high-stakes battles and campfire banter.

I want to see James and Cyprian describing themselves/their relationship as essentially shitty stepbrothers from a fucked up family

So did Anharion really ever actually betray the light? According to Gauthier probably not, and it seems likely given the facts we have, but has James known that since he was twelve and found out about the collar or did he learn that from Gauthier in real time? There's such a tragedy to it, James being known since childhood (or earlier childhood, they're all still kids really) as the most notorious of traitors when he seemingly never willingly betrayed the light until this lifetime. And it's equally interesting and equally sad whether he found that out in Gauthier's farmhouse or whether he's known since he was twelve: did he grow up thinking he might as well join Simon's service, do whatever evil deeds to protect himself since it was nothing compared to what he had done in the past, or did he make a choice as a child to willingly serve the darkness for his own safety in this life knowing that this was actually the first time he was really becoming a betrayer?

The inspiration from LotR really comes across strongly. I love how many times and in how many different ways Pacat can ask “what was it like to be a king with one of the nine rings and feel yourself turning into a Ringwraith.”

I think James is the fourth king. I don't have much to go on but vibes, but like, that scene where Will thinks that James looks more at home in the Hall of Stewards than the Stewards themselves do, and remembers that it was once the Hall of Kings? Yeah. I think he's the fourth king. And it would make sense for the Dark King to have become obsessed with the fourth of the great kings, the one who had refused his devil's bargain, and become determined to possess him anyway.

Okay, one of the most common criticisms I've seen of Dark Rise is that Will is a really bland protagonist. And like, I don't disagree that Will is bland. But I think that that blandness actually works on multiple levels for what Pacat was trying to do in this book. It works as part of the commentary Pacat is doing on the high fantasy genre: Will reads like a standard fantasy protagonist whose only really noticeable traits are that he's Loyal and True and a Good Leader. And it also works with the book's big twist, because I think a lot of the blandness derives from the fact that he's hiding so much of his inner world from the reader. It'll be interesting to see how he feels as a character in the next book, now that he and the reader both know who he is.

Also, not to go against Word of God or anything here, but Will is actually the one who reminds me of Laurent the most lmao? like James has got the cruelty and coldness and the mastery of words as weapons, but it’s Will who is quietly watching, absorbing information and slotting the pieces together. And who keeps his own council and sets into motion his own elaborate plans, involving the people he's semi-trusting but never really explaining his reasoning.

I can’t believe Will has an entire Lion best friend, who's herself going on an angst journey of Can A Lion Be Good, and never says anything about the angsty journey of self identity he's on. *Shakes him vigorously*. Except I can, because Violet a) never had a choice but to know who she was and b) wasn’t told she was actually a warrior of the light. I still think they would be good shieldmates though, and it's really sad and frustrating that Will denies them that opportunity to understand and support each other. Pacat says this is a story about what happens when you’re told from childhood you’re destined to be the villain, but it seems like it’s also about the harm of being told you’re destined to be the hero. I think if the Stewards hadn’t from the beginning been telling Will he was blood of the Lady and here to save them, he might have confided in Violet. The Lion and the Dark King, together choosing a different path.

Violet kills a fucking shadow king!!!! I fucking love her, she's the greatest.

Violet’s dad must be a lion too, right? Here’s hoping Violet or Tom ends up coming to full power by killing him

What was Will’s mother’s long term plan? Like did she always think she would have to kill Will some day? Because hard as it would be to kill a newborn I think it would be way worse to kill a child you had raised--was she just hoping she'd find the strength to do it someday? Or, (which I think is more likely), did she think that there was a chance that Will didn't have to be evil in this life, and did she hope that if she raised him she could be keeping an eye on him to protect the world while also hopefully guiding him to grow up to not be evil? But like, still knowing she had to be ready to kill him at the first sign of evil, or if it seemed like he would fall into Simon's hands. (Minor point, but Will would've been six or seven when Elizabeth was born--if Elizabeth is Eleanor's daughter how does he not remember his mom was pregnant? Or does he just remember she had a pregnancy and lost the baby and he never mentions that to the reader?)

I don’t think Will was only with the stewards for selfish reasons. When he first goes with Justice, he's hoping to get some much-needed context for what the hell is going on. But then for a while after that it seems like he spends a lot of the story hoping against hope that they could be right that he could be Blood of the Lady.

One review I read complained that Will leaving at the end to fight Simon alone doesn't make sense/is never explained or something. But it totally makes sense to me why he does that: part of it is the same reason Frodo eventually leave the rest of the fellowship--he doesn't want to keep drawing danger down on his friends. Plus he has to go off alone to continue on his revenge quest. Plus honestly he’s been emotionally drawing away from Violet and the others for a while by that point. Plus he already suspects his powers will allow him to survive while the others wouldn't be able to.

Okay Justice telling Violet she’ll be executed hits different after you find out about the Cup. To his thinking, he's not demanding anything of her he's not already committed to doing to himself. But then of course, there's the fact that the Stewards all chose to expose themselves to evil within, and Violet never any choice but to be born to a Lion family. But I'm sure the Stewards don't think of it that way--they seem to think of it as like, you don't kill an evil creature as punishment because they have sinned, but as a sort of quarantine, burning out an infection before it can spread and do harm.

#dark rise

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thatsecondsalemboy · 3 years ago

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Do you think it's possible for Credence to be "cured" or able to live a long life with the obscurus? What sort of methods/ideas do you have that would give him a longer life or remove the obscurus entirely that you might want to explore for your Crede?

Logically speaking, I think it's a tricky one to answer. To me it seems that canonically if they progress his story they're likely going down the lines of it killing him, in the way that some parasites do where they take more and more of the host until it can longer sustain them (which isn't quite typical of parasites, given that killing the host will kill the parasite). They seemed very firm of that idea in SoD, given that in Crimes of Grindelwald, Dumbledore said this:

"I know this: an Obscurus grows in the absence of love as a dark twin, an only friend. If Credence has a real brother or sister out there who can take its place, he might yet be saved."

Looking back on this quote it seems a little odd, given we've already been told how an obscurus forms from an individual being punished for and attempting to repress their magic, and certainly the description doesn't really seem to match another obscurial we know about (Ariana) given I would be loath to say that Ariana wasn't loved. Nonetheless in CoG, Albus seems to posit that essentially the presence of someone to love and care for him might reduce the obscurus (again seems negated by Ariana's situation but it's interesting) but by SoD he seems to have given up on that.

Perhaps the idea is that it's too late, that the obscurus has gained too much ground over Credence to ever heal, but I still feel the fact that he's survived thirty odd years whenever the usual is a third of that is something to be considered.

Of course, all this being said, I definitely want to and plan to create verses wherein Credence is either cured, or finds a way to live with the obscurus, perhaps not living a full lifespan, but at least gaining more time. Be that through the concept offered in CoG, that someone to love and care might reduce or reverse the damage, or perhaps through finding some way to live alongside it in a sort of symbiotic relationship (which is what Credence in SoD kind of reminds me, it strikes me as somewhat of a more balanced relationship, save for the whole killing him thing). The concept of removing it completely could be premise for a potentially angsty thread involving weighing up the risk of removing it vs leaving it.

Alongside that, I think I'd really like to explore the concept of the obscurus as the dark twin described in CoG, that it's less to do with just being punished for magic, but also the isolation that comes from that trauma, with the obscurus almost being its own independent entity.

Anyway jesus this got long.

#ooc #answered

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trashbaggage · 4 years ago

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okay okay okay

the movie “enchanted”, but witcher-fied (sorry this got away from me a bit)

there’s a stereotypical medieval fantasyland where jaskier julian alfred pankratz is the prince of lettenhovia. he’s got the looks, voice, and affinity for attracting woodland animals of a disney princess. also, the tragic backstory: his parents died in a freak accident when he was young. but don’t worry, his creepy “uncle” stregobor took upon himself the burden of ruling in their stead, until julian grew up and became ready for the throne.

(basically, stregobitch is like rasputin, and had tricked and slimed his way into the crown’s good graces before, surprise surprise, killing off the king and queen. he left julian alive to take some of the heat off of him with that extra distraction of grieving child. alas, poor little princeling that he can play the benevolent guardian to.)

and things are gr8 for good ol streggy, julian seems more inclined to sing and wander than become bogged down with the responsibility of becoming king. everything’s comin up stregs.

and then, of course, there’s a prophecy about how julian will be his doom or whatev and he needs to get on that shit STAT like he’s never heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy before (to be fair, fantasyland doesn’t have ancient greek tragedies to learn from so rip stregosaurus). but before he can implement his sophisticated plan of julian dying in an “accident”, our dear jules wanders too far and falls down a magic well into the Real World.

and he’s like, sweet, look at all this stuff! this is great and - oh hello, very attractive man with silken white hair and eyes as golden as the dawn light falling gently upon newly blossomed lillies and thighs that can crush his head and his heart, what up. and geralt is very confused and frustrated and oddly and begrudgingly charmed by this loudly dressed and loudly singing idiot accosting him outta nowhere, but his daughter ciri seems to like him so i guess we can keep him for a night but if he pees on the rug he’s out.

cue fun family bonding, musical numbers, shenanigans, all that jazz; julian, now jaskier cuz new world new him babey,, exploring and learning and having the time of his life and trying to get this broody man to open up and show that kindness his scowl can’t quite hide.

aaaaand cut back to streginald throwing a fit that the prince has cleverly evaded his dastardly plans, he has underestimated him it seems, and he can’t just let this massive loose thread keep flappin in the breeze, so he sends yennefer to deal with him.

now, yennefer is streggo my eggo’s daughter in this, and he’s raised her to be his right hand woman, his evil apprentice, the (much smarter) kronk to his yzma, and she’s been promised power once her dad fully claims the throne, so ofc she gets right on tracking that crafty twunk down to kill him. in the process, she comes across roach, julian’s horse and bff talking animal companion, by the magic well, gathering up the fucks to go after her wayward idiot. a struggle ensues, and yen and roach both go through the portal.

so now we got the side plot of these two trying to find jaskier, yen to kill him and roach to huff reproachfully at him for getting into this mess and if anyone is gonna kill him she will for dragging her across realms (she does not like portals, okay, they feel weird) not some uppity witch. so they got their tomfoolery of yen almost killing an unaware jaskier but then roach foiling her plans. she also tries to kidnap ciri as bait for a trap, but she can’t hurt this kid she’s too precious, ow ow ow, why does her chest feel weird?? she’s actually starting to find the boundaries to her thirst for power and it kinda sucks and feels nice at the same time??? 0/10 do not recommend

during this, geralt’s quiet life is being upended by this weird dude and he’s never danced so much in his life and his child is conspiring against him to set him up with this clearly deranged but very nice and pretty man but he’s not staying ciri we have to get him back to .....wherever tf he came from i don’t even like him, what are you talking about,,,

it all comes to a head at the costume ball, where geralt and jaskier are dancing and making eyes at each other until roach bursts in and tries to charades her way into warning her idiot to run motherfucker but she can’t talk in this realm so ugh and geralt horsegirl rivia is just like omg ur best friend is a horse that’s so fucking cool i love you even more.

and then yen bursts in; she’s kinda struggling to fulfill her mission, cuz she’s been watching jaskier and geralt and they just seem like two idiots that couldn’t possibly threaten anything, let alone her father’s power grab. she’s also made frenemies with roach, she’s the only motherfucker who can handle her in this city. so she just tries to scare jaskier into never returning, which works pretty well because she is v v scary, and then stregobonkers comes strolling in like wtf why is this taking you so long just kill him!! and yen is like i’ve kind of grown this pesky con- 🤢 consci- 🤢, wait, just, give me a min,,,, conscience!! yeah, that’s the bitch! anyway, stop telling me what to do dad and stregobego drops a bomb and goes i always knew you had a weakness to you, just like your parents!

and it’s just,,

silent.

what? what do you - my parents?

and it turns out he saw the power she held and wanted it under his control, so he killed her parents (it’s like, his signature move at this point) and groomed her to be his obedient little weapon. and, understandably, yen is pissed off and hurt and goes to lash out at him, but he just smirks and clicks his fingers while muttering under his breath, and everything stops for yen a second time as her mind blanks.

sneaky streg had put in a fail safe, in case she ever got out of line, and the amulet he gave her “for protection and focus, you must never take it off” lights up and puts her under his command and she turns into a sickass dragon that starts tearing up the dance floor, literally, in her rampage to kill jaskier.

geralt and jaskier go oh shit and dodge for their lives and things are looking pretty dire, but then jaskier looks at the suits of armor set up for decoration and goes wait a minute and grabs a sword to toss at geralt and just goes cover me boo and aim for that amulet and if you miss we’ll probably all die so no pressure!! and just sprints out and distracts angry dragon!yen and geralt goes goddamnit jaskier and sneaks around until he can jump at her and do a completely improbable matrix leap to stab at the amulet, and because this is a romcom and i get to choose my coping mechanisms, he makes it and yen is free from streg egghead’s power and she turns to him, still a dragon, and smiles wide with all them sharp sharp teeth and he goes ohhhh shiiiit and tries to run, but jaskier very helpfully trips him up and goes eat up my lady and dragon yen does, with great relish.

in conclusion, everyone lives happily ever after except streggles. geralt gets over his baggage and professes his love for jaskier, jaskier goes i’m not that easy geralt there needs to be wooing! i deserve to be wooed!! before heavily making out with him in the next five seconds. jaskier gives yen his blessing to become queen of lettenhovia, because he never really wanted the job anyway and she deserves it after what she’s been through. she still comes back every sunday for brunch and to teach ciri how to fight (she’s mine now, i’ve adopted her so she needs to learn the fine art of pointy things geralt) and geralt, jaskier, and ciri take holidays to fantasyland and roach is free to roam wherever she wants and becomes an advisor to yen.

the end

(extra dramatic addendum: geralt finally brings jask home to meet his family; vesemir opens the door and geralt goes this is my boyfriend, jas- but vesemir cuts him off with a choked out pRiNcE JuLiAn?! and it turns out vesemir is also actually from fantasyland. he worked for julian’s parents; the prevalence of monsters had been steadily rising, and so they had the idea to create witchers to combat them. kaer morhen was created under their sanction and vesemir was a teacher there, but he became disenfranchised with every boy that didn’t make it through the trials. when the keep was attacked by fanatics against witchers, he smuggled out eskel, lambert, coen, and geralt, and hid them away. he looked at these traumatized kids and went well that won’t do, followed up on some rumors of a new world, had a mage friend alter the boys’ memories, and skedaddled for our world. very shocking reveal, angsty angst-ness as geralt and the others deal with repressed memories and the fact that jaskier’s parents were responsible for it all, y’know, all that good stuff)

#the witcher #i come to you with another weird witcher au #geralt #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #yennefer #ciri #roach #cw: stregobor #jaskier would make a fantastic giselle don’t front #i would write a proper fic of this but it is late and i am tired #so here #some ramblings #witcher ficlet #geraskier

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pikemoreno · 5 years ago

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so long

pairing: ezra (prospect) x reader

request: anon: “’Lay your head in my lap and try to get some rest.’ for your choice?”

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none, it’s mildly angsty and then there’s a little splash of fluff

a/n: i’m... incapable of writing short drabbles. it’s fine. first time writing for ezra. ahhhh. so exciting, but so hard and so nerve-wracking. hope you enjoy. and i still hate naming things lol.

He hadn’t seen you in so long that he wondered how his feet still knew the way to your door at all. Though now that he was here, his hand didn’t seem to remember how to knock.

He guessed that was due to his having to use his non-dominant hand for such tasks now. The last time he was at this door he was still in possession of all of his limbs. Last time he was here he also still had a key. No knocking necessary.

A lot of things were different from last time he was in this spot. He was more youthful then: his eyes were brighter, the crease between his eyebrows shallower. He hadn’t killed. His zest for life was grander, his need to explore still unsatiated.

The knuckles of his left hand lifted to knock, but didn’t follow through. He chewed on his bottom lip, beginning to second-guess that perhaps you wouldn’t want to see him now.

It had been nearing 200 cycles since he’d left. You used to come with him: hopping planets, prospecting, roughing it, no attachments but each other. The two of you had landed on this civilized little planet about 300 cycles ago now. The original intention was to stay for a while just to resupply and sell your harvest. By the 50th cycle on the planet Ezra was itching to move on, needing to stretch his legs again.

He was sure you would be packed within the hour and ready to move on with him, just as it always was. That was when you shakily told him that you were ready to be rooted. The dangerous vagabond life had served you well for a thousand cycles, but you were aching for security. You’d anxiously told him you’d found a school of higher education that was interested in taking you on-- both of you.

He got so angry.

It killed him to think of it now.

He’d been so upset that you’d gone behind his back, looking for work when you had work already.

With him.

You’d calmly explained to him that your settled life absolutely included him. You didn’t want it without him.

He didn’t listen.

Why didn’t he ever listen?

He was so good at talking. Why hadn’t he taken just one day with you to talk about the situation? He’d owed you that. He’d owed you so much more than that and he couldn’t even deign to humor your desire to stay rooted.

He took off in the middle of the night, leaving his side of the bed a cold, empty space for you to wake up to. He left nothing of his behind and told you nothing about where he was going.

He did it out of pain and anger, feeling betrayed. It’d ended up only breeding more pain and anger in him, spending his nights thinking about how much he wished he wasn’t alone. He couldn’t imagine how much more betrayed you must’ve felt.

He’d wanted to return so long ago to make it right. He’d decided as soon as he set foot to ground that The Green was his last stop, no more than ten cycles. Ten so quickly turned to far more, wrench after wrench thrown in his plans.

It’d been so long now. He’d been stewing over this for so long.

There was no way you’d want to see him. There was no way you’d recognize him: physically, emotionally, or mentally. He was a different man now, one that he wasn’t entirely proud of. Even if you did take him back, he found himself insecure about the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hold you the same, that he struggled with daily tasks, that he’d just be a burden to your, surely, now steady life.

He knocked anyway.

There was light shuffling behind the door and then it was swung open in a moment of truth.

You froze.

He froze.

Ezra wasn’t often rendered speechless, but in this moment his vocabulary was simply not enough to express his frustration, his remorse, his ardent admiration, and utmost joy to be in your presence again. Words didn’t suffice, so he simply stood there. His eyes flicked over you, taking in your familiarity, the way you had hardly changed, only becoming more ethereal in the 200 cycles. He watched your eyes trail over his much different appearance, settling on his missing extremity for a second, just a second, though the sad look in your eyes lasted several seconds longer.

“Apologies,” he mumbled finally, helplessly, tears threatening to take over his vision for the first time in so long, “I shouldn’t have--” he backed away, starting back the way he came.

“Ezra,” your voice suddenly sounded behind him. It was so small and unsure, but not a question. It was a call. Distinctly a call for him to come back. He wouldn’t ignore that call for him a second time. It turned him back around immediately. And when his eyes met yours again it stopped every word that was about to come out of your mouth. “I--” You shook your head, unable to continue.

“A sentiment I concur with,” he gave a quick half-grin.

“Would you like to come inside?”

He could only nod, allowing you to lead the way. The space was largely unchanged, but with a few extra pieces of furniture to make it more liveable long-term. It was surprisingly nice like this. He could get used to it, if you would let him. You sat down on the couch that spread across the living space. His eyes, heavy lidded with physical and emotional exhaustion, asked for your permission to join and you patted the space next to you in response. He fell into it with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes for a moment before speaking.

“I do apologize most profusely for all the harm I’ve surely caused you. There were so many things I should not have done, first and most of all ever having left you in the first place.”

“Not now,” you cooed, “You look exhausted.”

“I must know if I could ever win your forgiveness.” You sighed.

“We’ll talk about this. We will. We’re going to have a lot to work through, you and me. You broke me.” His face was downcast as he took in those words. He was expecting them, but it didn’t make it any less hard to hear. “But I’m more than willing to work through this… Work for this.” His eyes shot back up to you instantly, too big and shining and hopeful for the life he’d seen. “But you look exhausted right now. Lay your head in my lap and try to get some rest,” you smiled a little sadly, “Like old times.”

“I am indeed fresh from The Green,” he murmured back, doing as commanded, “To have a soft place to lay once again is a luxury. But I fear I will not be a particularly pleasant companion at this time, birdie.” His words ended in a low hum as your hands so naturally returned to their old habits, threading their way through his hair.

“Well, you will be much more pleasant when you’re sleeping at any rate,” you teased. And he laughed. A real, hardy laugh.

“Oh how I’ve missed your endless wit, starlight,” he mused, eyes already drooping in response to the warmth and the calming motion of your fingertips against his scalp.

“And your unending loquaciousness, moon and stars. It’s been too quiet.”

“I will never allow this space to hear silence again, if you’ll let me.”

Taglist: @acomplicatedprofession @hdlynn @makaela27 @space-floozy @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @princessbatears @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @findhimfives @dindjarindiaries @mistermiraclee

#ezra x reader #ezra prospect x reader #bri writes

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azure-stars · 4 years ago

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Hey there I saw your venxiao mermaid au art and like I'm entranced by your art! The way you colour and your style overall is gorgeous im in love! I'd love to hear more about your au if you have anything more you would like to share :0

omg thank you so much!!!! < 33333 i actually have an ongoing thread on my twitter where i talk about it and just add stuff whenever ideas pop into my head, but ill summarize them here too!!

As far as general worldbuilding goes, Mondstadt is entirely underwater, and Liyue is a kingdom that borders the sea. While all the Mondstadt characters are mermaids, everyone in Liyue is human (including Xiao!!!). Keeping within the classique little mermaid story fashion, Xiao fell off a boat at sea while they were throwing a birthday party for him, and Venti saved him <3 In this au though Xiao sees Venti and knows who it was who saved him, but he’s wary at first and avoids going anywhere near the sea, esp after Almost Dying. He starts getting more curious abt Venti when he begins to hear singing and music at night below his bedroom balcony, which overlooks the sea. He feels all Fight or Flight about it at first because Why Is This Creature Harassing Me, but on stressful nights, and when he feels his most alone, he finds it more soothing and reassuring. After awhile, once he’s Calmed Down and figures the mermaid isn’t secretly trying to lure him down there to Kill Him, Xiao starts visiting Venti at night and the two start getting to know each other and learning about each other’s countries, circumstances, etc. Xiao finds Venti fascinating, if not a bit undisciplined, and Venti is just entirely fond of Xiao and likes needling him bc he’s so broody but complex xoxoxo After the two start getting more attached to one another, and once Venti starts getting a sense for how terribly isolated and trapped Xiao feels since he refuses to abandon his Royal Duties and Obligations, Venti decides to figure out a way to go on land. He’s motivated both by his own attachment to Xiao as well as a general wanderlust to explore Teyvat beyond the ocean. hehehe in this au Signora is the sea with and i figure since the tsaritsa > god of love, that might be why she bargains with Venti that Xiao has to make some gesture of affection for Venti to get his voice back (also in this au, Venti’s voice is contained in his gnosis...so that’s how he loses his gnosis to Signora </3) Atp Venti’s kinda like “love??? woah it’s not THAT deep ahahahah (im in danger)” but he goes through with it anyways because what’s life without a little fun without a little risk.

So that’s how he ends up on land, and Xiao’s just like ??!!?!?!? confused when he finds Venti with New Legs No Voice, and it stresses him out a little trying to get Venti into the castle with no Real Explanation as to who he is, but! he makes it work. and it’s a little weird not being able to talk anymore, but they play music together and that somehow becomes so much more tangible and potent than words.

And that’s about as far as I’ve gotten, since both Disney’s Little Mermaid and the original Little Mermaid are kinda angsty after this point and I kinda wanted to leave this as a mostly fluffy since two venxiao fanfics im currently working on are kinda angsty, but i’ll figure something out at some point : 3 Also I def know it would take Xiao awhile to even realize he loves / is falling in love with Venti, and what that means for his place in the kingdom and his obligations, and he has to make a choice between a kingdom or Venti. Instead of 3 days maybe Venti get’s a month to get Xiao to fall in love + enact a gesture of love, and on one hand Venti would never want to force him to do anything, but on the other hand he DOES kinda need his gnosis back because Mondstadt is otherwise at risk.

heheh and again tysm for liking my art, i’ll probably stick to doing small drawings and doodles for it for now : 3 c not sure if i’ll write anything yet..

#genshin impact #venxiao #xiaoven #xiaoti #little mermaid au #azure answers #Anonymous

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aaetherius · 4 years ago

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Get To Know The Writer!

——— BASICS! ♡

(PEN)NAME: Noise

PRONOUNS: They / Them

ZODIAC SIGN: Virg.o

TAKEN OR SINGLE: I am a single parent to a gremlin cat. I also have a dog and another cat, but when do I ever talk about them sorry my fur children I should not have a favorite, but I do.

——— THREE FACTS! ♡

I am fairly/decently tattooed (verging on heavily tattooed, I think most would argue)? I think that’s something most people don’t know or assume about me (unless you’ve seen me, then, of course, it’s the first thing everyone notices). I have a lot of tattoos so I won’t describe/go over all of them (most of them are nerdy though). But the most obvious/largest one I have is my full sleeve (entire left arm), and that one is of Ok.ami! My favorite one, though, is on my thigh because I’m biased, and it’s a decently sized heart with a scene from K.iki’s Delivery service in it/things that reference it, but Lily and Jiji (the cats from Kiki’s) are colored/drawn as my two cats instead (their names are Elise and Bella and I love them very much gfheudhg)! And my most recent one is a pretty large Sailor Moo.n (Luna) inspired one on my calf (I got it done, unintentionally, like the day before we went into lockdown here and I still think about how that’s the last time I left my house other than to walk the dog and for the essentials, obviously dshjgjfy).

A lot of you know this already, but I sew/know how to sew (largely self taught)! I mainly do cosplay stuff for myself now, and sometimes make cosplays for friends (if I love them enough ghufdihrudk). But there was a period of my life where I was doing it professionally/as a job. I had my own business, and used to make and sell plushies (mainly at conventions, and would do several conventions in a year. Free fun fact from that, but my best con was actually in Canada, of which I am not from nor do I live in, but because of that I have a business license/Tax number in Canada. Used to get invites to events in Canada all of the time and I had to tell them I don’t live there gfudrkugfgrfdr)!

This is so very difficult. I’m out of facts and trying to come up with things you guys don’t already know ifdshliuf. Uhhhhh, on the more personal side/less fun side I guess, but I was on a learning plan (I honestly forget the actual term for it - basically it’s for when you struggle with a certain subject and have to take extra classes for it or are given accommodations for it because it’s difficult for you) throughout most of school/prior to college for - writing, actually (believe it or not gifdljhgkgrt)! I was often told how terrible I was at it/that I would never get better at it because the school system can be awful, but I enjoyed it, and was a very stubborn child so I kept at it anyway! Eventually I was taken off of it in high school entirely because of my own efforts. So, I just want to say: never let people tell you that you’re incapable of something/can’t do something/don’t let people bring you down! If you love something, and get enjoyment out of it, you should do it regardless of what others think/believe! And be kind/supportive to creatives (including yourself - so very much including yourself, you’re wonderful and deserving of respect and praise for doing what you do). It can take so much courage to write or draw or sew or sculpt a single thing (and you should be proud of that thing, even if it doesn’t live up to what you wanted, because what really matters is that you had the courage to do it at all)! There’s often so much going on behind the scenes that you’re not aware of, and you never know where, when, or how someone started off in something (so even if something seems easy for someone now, it likely wasn’t when they started and still might not be)!

——— EXPERIENCE! ♡

I can’t recall when I started role-playing exactly (I’ve been writing, in general, since I could hold a pen). It’s been years, but I started with OCs on forums and with friends (in high school I had a group of friends that I would trade around a physical notebook with where we would write replies - one time, for a friend’s birthday, I had owed them a reply for a really long time, so we wrapped it up and them put it in five or so boxes, all of which were also wrapped, and gave it to them. It was a good time haha. Gosh I’m so old). Before eventually moving to tumblr. Most of my older/oldest OCs are still around on my general multi (August being the oldest, but a decent chunk of the OCs on that blog are pretty old). The first canon character I wrote was, I believe, Steven St.one from P.okemon. As far as Lucifer is concerned, I’m a few days away from this blog being seven months old!

——— MUSE PREFERENCE! ♡

I’m not quite certain what my preference is to be honest! I enjoy writing both OCs and canon characters. I tend to favor characters I’m more emotionally invested in since I tend to be on the shy/more withdrawn side of things so it’s easier for me to interact with others/reach out to others when I’m more invested in a muse! A lot of it can depend on my mood as well, certain characters are easier for me to write depending on how I’m feeling ( but there are muses I find easy to write regardless of how I’m doing). And how comfortable I feel with/on my dash also plays a fairly decent role in my preference, as well! And I enjoy running both single and multi-muse blogs, though most of my blogs are multis (but having a single muse blog is so nice). As far as archetypes go, I think I don’t favor one as much as I used to, but I still write a lot of white-haired muses haha. As far as gender goes, I tend to write male identifying muses most often.

——— FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡

FLUFF: I love and adore all things soft. Obviously it’s easier with certain muses than others (Lucifer lends himself well to fluff, but I have muses, like L.ucilius, who do not). I’m always down to write fluffy things, and very much enjoy it! I like and favor happy/soft content! I like seeing muses get closer, and living their lives and I’m always excited to see characters happy/finding out what they enjoy/spending time with others and learning about them/letting characters live their lives (especially in Lucifer’s case because, well, you know haha. If Cy.games won’t let him be happy I will simply have to do it myself).

ANGST: I like angst to a certain extent. I’m not into super heavy angst that has a bad/unhappy outcome, and doesn’t serve much of a purpose beyond being angsty. But angst that allows characters to develop is wonderful, and expected. And I love the recovery period. Writing muses addressing and living with their actions or learning how to cope with them - how their past or how what’s happened impacts their day to day lives and how they think/what bothers them/their actions/how it becomes a part of them, and what it takes for them to grow. Or how it deepens their relationship with another, and the comfort that comes with it. I enjoy angst that has a happy/meaningful ending.

SMUT: It tends to be very case-by-case by with me. I may write it with certain muses (of mine) and not with others. I may be open to writing it with certain ship partners, and not with others, as well. I will/can write it, but it depends on my comfort level (and it is by no means a deal breaker if you chose to write or not write it). Generally speaking, it largely depends on how comfortable I am with the mun I’m writing with, and with my own muse that’s involved. So I might write it from time to time/it could come up, and there might be other times where I’m not comfortable/confident (and fading to black/time skipping is also a-okay with me, especially if you’re interested in exploring the aftermath/comfort that follows it, but not actually writing the smut part of that out). Though, keep in mind, when it comes to actually writing it out on my end, I’m more invested and interested in the emotional aspect that intimacy tends to bring with it/how it impacts the relationship (before, during, and after), and that does tend to be what I focus on when I write it (because I just find that part of it interesting to explore because my favorite things to write are character and relationship development). So, long story short, I’m selective with it.

PLOT / MEMES: Both are good! You’re always welcome to turn an ask or meme into a thread, and I find that it’s easier to start threads through asks/memes than it is through starters/a starter call so I very much enjoy them! But plotting is also nice, and I enjoy it! Sometimes, though, I have a million ideas, and it goes super well, and other times my head is completely empty and I have no thoughts whatsoever. But plotting also tends to make writing a starter/interacting easier, and also leads to interesting threads! So, I’m open to both!

tagged by: @cirocchio (thank you)!

tagging ( if you want to do this, but no pressure if you don’t! ): @cxffexngel, @anamnaesis, @hartblooms, @shymaidxn, @unladylikc, @whisperonn, @dcpraved, @synnthos, @caelumsaltator, @againthemartyr, @eternalwhite!

#| ☩ Out of Time (OOC) ☩ |#| ☩ A pocket full of feathers ☩ (dash meme) |#{ I keep telling myself I will sleep at a reasonable hour and then I blink and it's four in the morning save me from myself gufidhgouio }#| . long post . |#{ I'll tag my stupidly long ooc posts but not my actual replies hrtfgkdujgtr }#{ It took me like 18 years to do this and yet I still wrote so much fhuurhfgiud }#{ One day I will learn to be brief }#{ No I won't that's a lie and we all know that lol }#{ All of those periods are my sad attempt to keep the bots at bay they don't mean anything lol }

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weasleydream · 5 years ago

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A thousand time stronger

Here is the famous Narnia imagine! I had this idea when I watched The Prince Caspian and, as some of you asked me to post it... It’s finally there!

If you have some Narnia requests, don’t hesitate to send them (and if it’s angsty then thank you so much because who doesn’t like some angst?)

Anyway, enjoy!

Masterlist

(gif not mine)

Our story takes place in a world none of us know. It was a fantastical world, a world most of children would want to visit, or would have wanted to visit during its brightest period. Now, Narnia was nothing more than the shadow of what it used to be, an apparently lifeless world invaded by heartless people. Its Golden Age had ended so many years before, its happy days disappeared in a blow of wind in the same time as the most loved Kings and Queens Narnia ever knew.

Still unaware of what their beloved Narnia had become, in fact, still unaware they even were in Narnia, five kids were playing in the clear water of the sea after a unique experience with Magic. The oldest was Peter, it was a kind boy who wanted nothing more than to protect his siblings, even though he could be a bit strict with them, or some of them to be more precise. The oldest girl was Susan, she was soft and had the irritating habit to talk like their mother. Then came Edmund and Y/N, the twins of the family. During their childhood, they couldn’t have been more different - Edmund was as mocking and vicious as Y/N was introvert and unsure of herself. However, they were now like the two sides of a coin, they knew each other perfectly and were inseparable. The youngest was Lucy, a little girl with a big heart and a contagious smile. Together, they had reigned on Narnia during fifteen years, known as Peter the Magnificent, Susan the Gentle, Edmund the Just, Y/N the Brave and Lucy the Valiant, before being thrown again in the house of Professor Kirke.

After a year of dreaming of it, and even if our heroes didn’t know it yet, they were back at Narnia. But if they hadn’t changed a lot - they were only a bit taller and the girls’ hair were longer - their beloved land wasn’t the same. In fact, it was so different that they didn’t recognized the beach they had contemplated during fifteen years.

“Where do you think we are?” finally asked Edmund with his hand above his eyes to protect himself from the burning sun.

“I thought you were more intelligent than that, Ed.” laughed Y/N. “Where do you think we can possibly be?”

“It’s Narnia, you silly.” replied Peter.

“I didn’t remember these ruins…” muttered Edmund.

And indeed, when they looked up, his siblings saw ruins at the top of the cliff in front of them. It was the first witness of the past splendor of the place, only a few stones carrying the wealth of their history. All intrigued by this mystery, they ventured in the woods that led to the old castle and, enjoying the shadow provided by the trees that were definitely calm, they began to explore. Suddenly, and as usual in these situations in which her elders lacked of imagination, Lucy understood where they were. She placed her siblings in front of the little piles of rocks that had once been thrones.

“Imagine columns, and a roof made of glass.” she said. “This is Cair Paravel!”

The joy had been quite short, because this realization was accompanied by another one, much more worrying and even sad.

“It can’t have been that long.” murmured Y/N.

“It can, remember the time isn’t the same in here.” replied Susan.

“You know what it means?” If her smile was contagious, Lucy’s tears were too. “All our friends… Mr Tumnus, Mr and Mrs Beaver… They are gone.”

After a few minutes of silence, the time for the Pevensies to process these news, these decided to continue their exploration. Now that they knew where they were, it was much easier to get their bearings.

“Oh, I didn’t remember this corridor!” said Lucy as she walked between two stone lines.

“Look, this is the orchard!” exclaimed Edmund.

“Come here!” shouted Peter. “Remember this door?”

“The Treasure Room?” asked Susan. “I hope it’s intact!”

And intact it was, with all the treasures they remembered and the ones they had forgotten. At the end of the room aligned five massive trunks. Lucy precipitately opened hers to find her dagger and her Cordial. She also showed Susan a dress she had worn when she was an adult. She was amazed at the size. After the most adult answer Susan could have given her (“That’s because you were taller!”), Edmund and Y/N exchanged an amused look and opened theirs in the same movement. The first thing Y/N saw in her trunk was her sword. She grabbed it, not fearing a second the rust, and drew it. The blade was still as perfect as the last time she had seen it, with all the engravings retracing all the battles she had won alongside Edmund, Peter and sometimes Lucy. A nostalgic sigh escaped her lips when she gently passed her thumb on the oldest engraving. Battle of Beruna. She could remember it as perfectly as if it had happened the day before, the blood rushing in her head, the adrenaline when the two sides had met, the sickening fear when Edmund had been injured, the anger and desire of revenge she had felt just after. It had marked the beginning of the happiest era of her life, for sure.

During the following hours, all the Pevensie siblings began to feel more like the Kings and Queens they had been, and less like the children that had just left England. And with that, the tensions between Y/N and Peter became more and more present. For a long time, Peter had been really hard with the twins, always reprimanding them as soon as he had the occasion. Susan was also like this. Things had changed with Edmund after the Battle of Beruna, when he had been hurt and Peter had thought he would lose him. Since this day, he had been less on his nerves with him, and slightly less with Y/N too, but it was nothing comparable. When they had come back in England and left for school, they hadn’t seen each other a lot and it hadn’t been a problem. But as they were walking in the woods to find Prince Caspian, Y/N was feeling like she would scream just to get this out of her. The way Peter was giving orders around, the way he was holding his head a bit higher than needed, it was really irritating and not really respectful for Trumpkin the dwarf.

The little group finally reached the camp where Caspian was with the Old Narnians. After the presentations, Y/N decided to explore the surroundings and left Edmund and Peter to their council to follow Lucy and Susan. Together, they wandered between fauns, dwarfs and all types of animals. They were sharpening blades or chatting, but it gave the girls all sort of memories.

“What three girls like you are doing here?”

It was a little faun, apparently really young.

“We’re just walking around.” said Lucy.

“Oh, Lucy, look!” exclaimed Y/N, who hadn’t really paid attention to the faun. “Are they mice?”

Indeed, twelve mice were proudly walking toward the mound.

“Lucy?” repeated the faun. “Are you… Are you the Queens? Queen Lucy, Queen Susan and Queen Y/N?”

“Absolutely.” approved Y/N.

The little faun’s eyes became round, and he didn’t lose a second before rushing to the first friend of his he saw, exclaiming with big moves the Old Kings and Queens were here. Soon, a crowd formed around the girls and Y/N, who hated all this royal attention, managed to escape and joined Edmund, Peter and Caspian in the mound.

The ambience was way more tensed in there, and soon, Y/N learned that the actual king, Miraz, was Caspian’s uncle and an usurpator. His army was here, ready to defeat Caspian’s and kill his nephew. They knew Aslan was the only one that could offer them a victory, but they needed time.

“A duel.” finally proposed Peter. “A duel that will end with the death of one of us. Either Miraz or me.”

No one found a better idea and an order was immediately written. Peter handed it to Edmund, and Y/N followed him outside. The twins joined the camp of the enemy and the crowd of Telmarine soldiers opened in front of them. They glared at the two Narnians and whispered on their passage.

“Are they the famous twins? The ones deemed to be invincible if they fight together?”

“I had never seen a girl with a sword…”

“They don’t seem that dangerous.”

“You kidding?”

To be fair, seeing them walking that calmly in the middle of the enemies, shining in their armours perfectly polished, was simply impressive. Edmund was slightly in front of Y/N, one of his hands holding the parchment and the other firmly gripping his belt. Y/N had grabbed casually the guard of her sword. Their faces matched with a determined look visible only in times of war, and the only thing that disturbed the calmness they had imposed themselves was the nervous habit Y/N had always had: her jaw clenched compulsively.

Edmund and Y/N didn’t answer the whispers around them, they only straightened a bit their back and kept walking at a steady pace toward the tent in the middle of the camp. The fabric was richly embroidered with gold thread, which didn’t leave a doubt about the comfort Miraz used to live in. The twins eventually reached the entrance of the tent and the two guards in front of them stepped aside after an order coming from Miraz himself.

After all she had heard about him, Y/N had imagined a terrible man, intimidating with a royal stature which would have helped him keeping the throne of Narnia despite him not being legitime. But in fact, he looked like an usurpator in her opinion. Each of his features showed how perfidious and contemptuous he was. Even Peter didn’t lift his head that high - Miraz seemed to be an arrogant man.

After the usual presentations, which caused the nobles around Miraz to look at Edmund and Y/N both in amusement and disbelief, the discussion eventually came to the duel. Miraz listened to Edmund as he read the order while Y/N watched carefully at each person present in the tent. None of them inspired her trust and she had the unpleasant impression that no matter which arrangement was adopted, it wouldn’t be respected by the Telmarines.

After a sign of the usurpator, Edmund and Y/N left the tent to let him the time to think about his decision.

“Tell me again, why do we think they’ll respect our engagement?” asked Y/N.

“I know.” replied Edmund. “I don’t trust them either. But we need time, we need to keep them busy until-”

“Until Aslan is ready to help us, I know.”

A silence followed, during which both imagined how bad things could go if they were betrayed. Of course, none of them would have said it out loud, and that for two reasons. The first was that they didn’t need words to communicate. One look, one gesture was enough for them to understand the other. The second reason was that they were too worried and didn’t want to worry more the other. It had always been kinda like this, but this overprotectiveness had reached its peaks during their first time in Narnia, when Edmund had left alone to find the White Witch. Y/N knew something was wrong, and she knew her twin wouldn’t have let her alone like this without a good reason. She had defended him in front of Peter and Susan, Lucy being too kind and too young to blame him, and it was from this moment that her relation with Peter had become worse. When Edmund had finally been rescued, when he had seen by himself how worried Y/N had been, he had sworn he would do anything for her not to be worried anymore. When she had seen how distraught her dear Ed was, Y/N had sworn the same thing. Of course, they had forgotten they could read each other like an open book, and they just lost the habit to formulate their fears with words.

Maybe seeing the twins silent had given the Telmarines the courage to approach, fact is that they began to laugh just under their nose.

“I’ve always said that a lady with something cutting in the hands is the most stupid thing that can happen.”

The soldier who had said that was a tall man with a mocking grin. Apparently proud of his intervention, he elbowed the man next to him who laughed. The Pevensies couldn’t know that, but the second man had a painful memory of his wife threatening him with a knife while she was slicing the meat for the diner and tripping at his feet, cutting his arm in passage.

“Or the most dangerous.” replicated Edmund, who was particularly proud of his sister.

“Is it true that you’re two of the best swordsmen of your time?” asked a young soldier. He seemed more impressed than the others.

“Maybe you can show us!” It was the first soldier. Y/N rolled her eyes and Edmund shook his head.

“No offense boy, but I really would like to see your sister in action.”

Maybe he had heard enough stories to know Y/N was easy to provoke, fact is that the solder touched the reckless part of her and despite Edmund muttering it wasn’t a good idea, Y/N got up and drew her sword.

“You want to see me fight?” she asked. “Fine. Attack me.”

The three men were less proud now that a crowd was forming around them.

“Come on Y/N, don’t play with them and do it quick, we don’t have all day!” shouted Edmund.

No sooner said than done, in only a few movements no one saw precisely, except Edmund who had seen her fight a thousand times, Y/N had won the fight. The three soldiers were on the ground with their mouths wide open. Edmund snickered and shook his head when his twin complained about how easy it had been. However, his attitude changed immediately when one of the soldiers, the one who had provoked Y/N, got up silently and readied to attack her by behind. One look at his brother warned her and she turned around at the speed of light to grab the collar of his chainmail and position his own sword under his chin.

“Don’t ever do that again.” she hissed.

The soldier was simply terrified, and that was understandable: he had in front of him Y/N Pevensie, a dangerous girl whose reputation had traveled the ages, who was known by every Narnian like the most skilled swordswoman of history, and who formed with Edmund (who was now standing behind her) an invincible duo. Y/N eventually let go of him and tiptoed to watch him in the eyes.

“If I were you, I would pray to not cross me during a battle, or else you’re dead.”

And she gave him her back to sit back on the tree stump she was initially on. The crowd quickly dispersed, and no one noticed the humiliated soldier rushing in the tent. Roughly five minutes later, Miraz got out and walked directly toward Edmund and Y/N who stood up even though they didn’t respect this man at all.

“Does it amuse you to play with my soldiers?”

This question full of contempt was for Y/N, and the girl felt her blood boiling. She could practically feel Edmund’s warning radiating behind her and, at the cost of a great effort, she relaxed.

“Your soldiers wanted to see me fight.” she replied. “I couldn’t deny them this honour.”

This was maybe her biggest flaw. Y/N, in the very same way as Edmund, was someone very sarcastic and was simply unable to measure when sarcasm was allowed and when it wasn’t. Useless to precise right now, it absolutely wasn’t.

“I don’t think they’ve all had the opportunity to see you,” began Miraz, “and I didn’t have either. I accept the duel against your brother with the condition that you fight against twenty of my best soldiers. If you win, the duel will take place. If you lose, your brothers, sisters and Caspian will die. If you don’t accept, my army will attack yours when the Sun will be at its zenith. Now, if you need me, I’ll be in my tent.”

And Miraz left, persuaded he had found the way to get rid of all of his enemies. A long silence took place between Edmund and Y/N, the first one fearing his sister’s decision and the latter regretting bitterly her behavior. Unconsciously, they had both glanced at the Sun, but they knew it was still early in the morning. Now, all that they had to do was take a decision, and Y/N was on the verge of accepting, after all she was the responsible of this situation, but Edmund took the lead.

“We go back to our camp. Peter will decide what to do.”

“The decision is already taken.” groaned Y/N.

She wasn’t angry at Edmund, of course. She was mentally scolding herself for having been so pretentious and, even though she would never admit it, she was pretty afraid too.

“There’s no way you’ll fight them, Y/N.” said Edmund. “I won’t let you.”

And he left at a quick pace, obliging Y/N to follow him. They gained back their camp in a total silence, where they found Peter and Caspian discussing strategies with Trumpkin and Cornelius. When he saw his siblings’ expressions, both matching in a mix of fear and anger, Peter immediately understood something had gone wrong.

“Where are Susan and Lucy?” asked Y/N.

“Gone.” replied Peter. “What happened? He didn’t accept?”

Edmund glared at Y/N, and even though Peter knew it wasn’t actual anger, it still was so unusual that he began to imagine the worst things that could happen. Above all, Edmund seemed decided to let his twin talk on her own.

“No! He accepted… Well, kinda.” muttered Y/N.

“Kinda? Tell me what happened.” Now, Peter was beginning to worry too.

“He’ll fight with you if I beat his twenty best soldiers in a round.”

She had talked so low that Peter wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. Y/N explained how it had happened, how the three soldiers had provoked her and how she had effortlessly beaten them. Then she added in a small voice that all of their lives were on her. At this point, Peter was pacing and, if Y/N had had the same connexion with him that she had with Edmund, she would have seen he wasn’t angry either but worried sick. But she didn’t know, and the shame made her keep her head down.

“You won’t let her fight, right?” asked Edmund.

Peter stayed silent, trying his best to imagine how things could go if they were attacked a few hours later. Of course he didn’t want to let his little sister fight, but he had a big responsibility on him and feelings couldn’t be good.

“You can’t forbid me.”

Y/N had gained her courage back and was decided to assume her mistake. There was no way everyone would be thrown in a battle lost in advance if she could prevent it. And at this moment, she was sure she could beat these soldiers and she wasn’t worried for her siblings’ life, along with Caspian’s one.

“Everyone, out.” said Peter with his autoritary voice.

Everyone left, the last being Edmund who refused to let this decision be taken without him and had to be dragged by Caspian.

“Peter I swear you better take the good decision!” he screamed just before disappearing after a particularly violent push from Caspian.

A long silence took place in the mound. Peter was still pacing and Y/N, waiting not so patiently for his decision. After a few minutes, Peter felt observed and he glanced at his sister.

“Don’t look at me like this Y/N. You won’t fight.”

“You can’t-”

“Yes I can!” shouted Peter. “And if I really need to use this argument; then I’ll do it: I am the High King and you have to obey me.”

It was all he shouldn’t have said, because it put Y/N in such an anger that she rushed toward him and stopped a few centimeters only from him.

“You may have been the High King,” she hissed, “but I have been a Queen. I have never let anyone give me orders and I won’t start today. Whether Ed likes it or not, whether you like it or not, I will fight. I made a mistake and I have to make up for it, that’s all.”

“And if you’re killed?” Peter was getting crazy. How could he make her understand how much he wanted her to be safe?

“Then I hope you’ll be smart enough to not be killed on the spot.” For a split second, her voice shook and Y/N prayed for Peter not to have heard it. But he had, and it had made his heart sting. “But it doesn’t matter. I won’t lose.”

“You can’t know that!” he exclaimed. “You see, you’re not mature enough to be involved in all of this! You never think, you-”

“It’s not a question of maturity Peter! I do not have the choice, it’s different. Don’t think one second I’ll let you die…” she added with a lowest voice.

“And you don’t have to die either. If we let him attack-”

“That’s exactly what we wanted to avoid! If we let Miraz attack, then we’re dead. All of us. You said it yourself. We can’t count on Aslan, that’s why we need to gain time. And this time, I’ll gain it for you.”

With that, Y/N left without waiting for his answer. The fact is that Peter knew she was right, but he wasn’t ready to let her risk her life. He had always been especially hard on her, but he loved her with every fiber of his heart. If only he could have taken her place, he would have done it without any hesitation, but Miraz had been clear. If Y/N didn’t fight, they were attacked. However, he gained back his senses soon enough to yell “You stay on the camp!” just before murmuring “That’s an order you better follow.”

Of course, Y/N didn’t have any intention to follow this order, not this one after all the ones she had ignored and especially coming from Peter. She was looking for a horse when Edmund grabbed her arm.

“Can I know where you think you’re going?”

“Looking for you.” she lied. “Peter wants to talk to you.”

She had always been unable to lie to Edmund, and the latter saw perfectly through it. He narrowed his eyes, probably ready to tie her in order to keep her safe when, by an exceptional coincidence, Peter’s voice echoed. He was calling for Edmund. The boy reluctantly let go of Y/N’s arm and gave her his back. She knew he would take apart the first faun or minotaur he would see to tell him to watch her, which was why she didn’t have a lot of time. She innocently walked toward the nearest horse and, when she was just next to the animal, she jumped on its back. Unfortunately, Edmund had seen her and immediately shouted her name.

That didn’t stop Y/N and she exhorted her horse to go faster. If all her blood hadn’t rushed in her head blocking every sound around her, she would have heard him screaming her name with a desperation he had never shown or even felt. All she could think was that she had to fight, even if she had to lose her life. It was for her siblings, who she loved more than anything. It was for Caspian, who had proven to be an excellent prince and friend. It was for Narnia, which was her second home.

Y/N reached the enemies’ camp way faster than the first time. She rushed in Miraz’ tent, pushing aside the two guards at its entrance in passing, and only stopped when she was in front of the wooden table. She extended an arm, her eyes fixing the usurpator.

“My brother agreed.”

And they shook hands at the very moment Edmund entered the tent, hit by a wave of pure terror when he couldn’t help but think it could be one of the last times he saw her alive.

The grass under her body was soft, as it had always been in Narnia. It was way more comfortable than the grass of our world, and it gave Y/N the feeling she was lying on a cloud. She was far enough from the camp to only hear the lapping of water that flowed lazily somewhere on her right. She was used of the woods, used of listening carefully each noise, and she immediately heard the steps that came closer and closer to her. She didn’t try to hide, though, because she knew it was Edmund and she wanted nothing more than to see him.

“You should eat something.”

She didn’t answer, not because she wasn’t hungry but because the restraint in his voice was something she had never heard, and for the very first time, she couldn’t understand if Edmund was angry or not.

“Y/N, the meat is cooling down.”

“I’m not hungry.” she said with the most calm voice she could.

“You should-”

“I told you no, Ed!”

Y/N had shouted and immediately regretted it. Edmund sighed and stepped closer. Until then, he had waited standing a few meters away. He let himself fall on the ground and laid just next to Y/N.

“Are you afraid?” he finally asked. Y/N could feel his eyes on her.

“No…” she lied. “Not for me, anyway.” It was a bit more true.

“I am.” Saying Y/N was surprised would be an understatement, and she looked at her twin in disbelief to meet his teary eyes. “I’m afraid to lose you and... and so is Peter.”

“It won’t be the first time I risk my life.”

“It’s different, Y/N.”

She didn’t find anything to reply, and Edmund stayed silent. He had closed his eyes too, and his thought were monopolized by only one thought, or more precisely, one memory: the day, so many years before, when he had been rescued from the Witch’s camp.

Edmund was walking next to Aslan. He had been afraid of the big Lion, afraid that he would think he was the worst traitor he had ever met, and the worst was that Edmund thought he would have been right. The sun was getting down, and illuminated all the camp in a delicate golden colour. Aslan was silent, and all of sudden, a kind of purr could be heard; it was like if it came right from his heart.

“Tell me what you are fearing, Son of Adam.”

Edmund didn’t know what to answer and stayed silent. He feared so much things that he didn’t know which one the Lion wanted to hear, plus, he didn’t want to be seen as a coward.

“Your brother and your sisters won’t blame you forever, don’t worry.” At this moment, Edmund knew Aslan had guessed his worst fear. “You should go and see them.”

Indeed, Y/N, Peter, Susan and Lucy were waiting for him in front of a big tent. Edmund slowly approached them, not completely reassured by the Lion’s words, but Y/N didn’t wait and ran toward him. She threw her arms around him and tightened him almost painfully. She was muttering something under her breath, something only Edmund could have heard if only he wasn’t murmuring himself.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

When, after what felt like hours, the twins eventually pulled apart, their eyes met and Edmund’s heart broke a bit when he saw the tears in Y/N’s eyes. At this instant, he swore to himself he would always protect her, whatever the cost.

And protect her he had always tried his best to do. Y/N had become his absolute priority, he wanted to make up for all the tears she had shed because of him. That’s why he had always stayed by her side, in parties and during battles, he had always been there for her and had never really shared his own worries, wanting to take care of Y/N’s first.

The problem was that Y/N had done the exact same thing. From this day when he had finally come back, when she had seen the desperation and infinite shame in his eyes, she had understood Edmund wouldn’t be truly happy until he would finally be able to understand it wasn’t completely his fault, and that no one would hate him for that. She had made a point to always show him she was here no matter what. She had done everything to hide her own problems, considering Edmund’s ones were way more important.

That’s why, without even knowing it, they had developed a silent language between them, one that would reveal each of their fears, each of their wounds, a language that reversed all the efforts they had made to erase themselves.

They stayed silent like this during a quite long time, maybe an hour, and only moved when the sound of a horn echoed. Two short sounds followed by a longer one. It was time.

Y/N found herself like paralyzed, unable to make any move, not even when Edmund got up. He gently grabbed her hand and that helped her getting out of her trance. She got up.

“You still have time to refuse.” he murmured.

“You know I won’t.”

Edmund wanted to roll his eyes but he decided against it, not wanting to do anything that could possibly upset Y/N.

“Yeah, I know. Foolish hope, when you hold us… Come on,” he said while passing an arm around her shoulders, “I will help you to get ready. You will let me help you right?”

“Of course.”

Since the moment she had hurriedly left the camp to go to Miraz’s, Y/N hadn’t seen Peter once. Edmund led her in her tent and helped her putting on her armor, which she had taken off before hiding in the woods. Then he grabbed her sword and give it to her.

“Don’t wanna force you to be violent,” he said with his famous smirk, “but I hope you’ll slice them all.”

He was only pretending to not be terrified, of course.

Outside, both camps were reunited around a square delimited by ropes. To get there, Edmund and Y/N crossed the crowd of old Narnians who solemnly stepped aside on their passage. By now, they all knew what kind of agreement had been done, and they all thought Y/N couldn’t possibly win this.

Peter was waiting for them next to the improvised arena. His jaw was clenched and his arms crossed, but his nervous steps as he paced along the rope showed how worried he was. The twins finally joined him, and Y/N found herself regretting bitterly Lucy and Susan’s absence. She didn’t feel that confident anymore, and she would have wanted to tell them goodbye. On the other hand, if she lost, her sisters would be far enough to hide.

“Ed,” she murmured. Edmund immediately turned his head to look at her. “Can you send someone warn Lucy and Susan?”

Edmund’s jaw clenched and he looked away. After a second, Y/N understood it was because asking him that was like admitting she would lose.

“Please Ed, I just want to be sure they are safe.”

He finally nodded weakly, and both his and Y/N’s gazes followed Peter’s one. Their elder was looking at the twenty men aligned in front of them, most of them tall and broad. Miraz was slowly walking in front of them, giving his back to the Narnians and probably giving his soldiers advices or orders. The usurpator had put on his shiniest armor for the occasion. Suddenly, Peter placed himself in front of Y/N and grabbed her shoulders.

“Listen to me.” He was whispering so that Y/N and Edmund, who had moved closer, were the only one that heard what he was saying. “Miraz thinks brutal strength will be enough to beat you, but you have the advantage of the speed. The best you can do is tiring them until they get slow enough for you to attack without being touched. Okay?”

Y/N nodded and put all her bravery in this small movement. However, all her courage was certainly not a lot as she began to slightly shake. She had a bad feeling about this, something she felt on her blood and her bones. Peter, when he saw how distraught his little sister was, did something he had never done before: he engulfed her in a strong embrace, a bone-crushing hug quite uncomfortable with the armors but oh so warming in their hearts. Y/N wrapped her arms around her brother and tightened him as firmly as she could and, even though none of them said anything, they knew something was definitely different between them. If Susan had been here, she would have smiled tenderly, savouring the first demonstration of love Peter and Y/N had shown to each other in years.

Peter eventually let go of her and softly ruffled her hair.

“You can do that Y/N. I believe in you.”

Then Peter took a few steps backwards and Edmund practically jumped at her neck. He almost choked her to death, but she didn’t say anything because these signs of affection were rare with Edmund and she wanted to enjoy it as long as she could. She expected to see the same look as in the forest, but the determination burning in his eyes almost burnt her too and she felt as ready as she could ever be.

“You can win Y/N.” said Edmund. “You’re the best, you can beat them all without any difficulty.”

Y/N nodded, more firmly this time, and entered the arena. The encouragements of her brothers echoed in her ears, and she felt like she could move mountains.

The first man took a step forward. The fight began.

Y/N was whirling like a dancer, her gestures full of grace as she stroke powerful blows. Her sword shone under the sun, along with her polished armor, her black hair flying around her and forming an aura. Everyone, Narnian or Telmarine, understood Y/N’s reputation in the stories: it seemed like it wasn’t a girl in front of them, but a demon.

The first five guys were beaten rather quickly. Y/N hadn’t been seriously injured, except after the third soldier had hit her head violently; she had staggered a bit but had gained back her senses soon enough to send his head flying. She did as Peter had said: her strategy was to provoke them, forcing them to attack while she just jumped out of their league. However, this strategy had two flaws: first, it was hard for her too, and the fifth soldier had understood. From this point, she didn’t have any other choice than to always take the first attack, and the fights became more fierce and violent than before. The seventh soldier brought her her first serious injury, a long cut at the base of the neck.

When his sword had cut her flesh, Edmund’s heart had almost stopped. YN had taken a few steps back, just the time to evaluate the damages, before jumping on him with a renewed vigour. He had sighed, thanking Aslan she was still alive, and glanced at Peter’s pale face. A scream in the crowd had made him focus again on the fight to see his twin killing the seventh soldier.

Y/N had thought maybe she had a chance. The first soldiers hadn’t been too hard to beat, and she had truly hoped she could get through this. But this hope had vanished a long time ago: the more injuries she got, the closer she saw her death. Her body was aching, every fiber was protesting against her movements. Her muscles were burning, her head was painful both because of the blows and the sun. She was sweating so much that she had to grip her sword harder to not let it fall. Her lungs seemed to be unable to continue bringing air in her body, and after a desperate assault during which she pierced her enemy’s stomach, she fell on her knees and noticed absentmindedly a dagger hidden in his belt.

The fourteenth soldier had already taken a step forward, but in spite of killing her on the spot, he offered her a helpful hand.

“You need some time?”

“Five minutes.” she whispered.

The soldier nodded and helped her getting up. Immediately, she felt two pairs of arms behind her, and when she turned around she met Edmund and Peter’s worried faces. Without losing a second, they half dragged her to their side of the arena and sat her on bench that had been brought here for her. Peter examined her head, constantly rambling about how great she had been and how she could win, while Edmund cleaned the cut of her neck without a word. She noticed his hands were slightly shaking and for a second she felt bad.

“Let me alone, please.” she murmured.

Peter stopped, glanced worriedly at her and left. Edmund hadn’t made a move, yet Y/N had grabbed his wrist to make sure he would stay.

“I wasn’t going to let you.” he said.

“I know.”

They stayed silent a few seconds during which both of them tried to find something to say.

“Ed, I wanted to tell you in case I…” Finishing this sentence was too hard.

“In case you nothing Y/N. You can do it, I know you can.” Edmund looked like he was trying to convince himself. “You won’t die, you hear me? I told you Y/N, I can’t lose you.”

And he hugged her tighter than before, and she hugged him weaker than before because her strength was missing.

“I’m sorry…”

It came in a broken breath, a weak and pathetic sound that yet broke Edmund’s heart. All of sudden, and for the very first time, he was crying, bitter tears rolling on his cheeks as his twin, his second half, gave up on her shell and showed how terrified she was.

“Don’t do that… Don’t do that Y/N, I don’t want…”

“Ed, I need to tell you-”

“No!” he exclaimed. “Why don’t you tell Peter? Why don’t you want to see him? Why do I have to be the only one to hear your apologies? Why do I have to be the only one you say farewell to?”

Y/N wiped a tear from her face. Now, it was clear: the both of them knew she would lose and die.

“Because it will be easier for him that way.” she replied in a whisper.

“And me? Did you- did you think about me? Why don’t you make it easier for me too?”

“I don’t know how to do that, Ed!” cried out Y/N. “But I can’t… Without you, I just- I can’t do that, Ed! If you don’t help me, I won’t be able to go back there and to fight; if you-”

She had stopped so brutally because Edmund had hugged her once more, one last desperate embrace to show her how much he loved her and why she couldn’t possibly lose.

“I love you Y/N.” He murmured in her hair. “You have to come victorious, you don’t have the choice, okay? Promise me.”

“I promise.”

And she got up, a new strength in her, something that felt like desperation but that gave her the impression she could swim beyond the biggest ocean and climb the highest mountain. She walked toward the last seven soldiers but after only a few steps, she vivaciously turned around and ran directly toward Peter. She jumped on him, making him stumble a bit before gaining back his balance and holding tightly his little sister.

“I’m sorry Peter,” she murmured, “so sorry… Please, if I lose, please, don’t let yourself get killed. Protect Ed, Lucy and Susan, and Caspian, and Narnia, Peter, please…”

“Of course Y/N, of course.” he replied. “But you have to promise me you’ll do your best to win, promise you’ll fight like the lioness you are.”

Y/N smiled and nodded.

“Peter, I…” She had never said it to him, but she needed him to know. If she couldn’t keep her promise, Peter had to hear it at least once. “I love you, big brother.”

And Peter, with the heart heavier than it had ever been, kissed lightly her hair.

“I love you too, little sister.”

Y/N eventually let go of Peter, exchanged a last glance with Edmund, and gained back her place in the middle of the arena. The last seven soldiers were in front of her, all of them looking more impressive than the others. The girl had the terrible impression to be in one of these apocalyptic scenes you can see in the movies. She was facing her enemy, all alone and looking so insignifiant, surrounded by thirteen lifeless bodies, her steps in blood rivers printed on the ground.

She was ready to attack as soon as the signal would be given, but she certainly didn’t expect Miraz to slowly walk toward her. He lifted an hand, probably to say that Peter and Edmund had to stay where they were, and murmured something in Y/N’s ear.

“Each of these soldiers are stronger than the first thirteen reunited. Good luck,dear Queen.”

He left with a little smile, placed himself between his big chair and the wooden table he had put his helmet, sword and shield on, and gave the signal.

Y/N had hoped Miraz had just tried to discourage her, but it was clear that he was right. The soldiers were way stronger, each of their blows hitting like a rock with the speed of light. Y/N was running on empty, her breathing became more and more rapid and her moves slower and slower. The weight on her heart, knowing that Peter and Edmund hoped she would get out of this alive, was almost too much for her to bear.

However, against all odds for Miraz and the Telmarines, like they had expected for Edmund, Peter and the Narnians, Y/N fought incredibly well. She had turned her desperation into a force and, like each person that doesn’t have anything to lose, she had become simply dangerous. She took risks, she got hurt, but she killed several soldiers. One, two, three, four. Only three left. The victory had never been closer and, for the first time since the beginning, she seriously considered the thought that she could win.

She should have known. The last three soldiers walked simultaneously toward her, drawing their sword in the same movement, two of them stepping aside to surround her. Of course, it was Miraz’s order. If by miracle, she beats seventeen of you, you three, you fight together against her. She can’t win, understood?

The true fight began. From the corner of the eye, she saw the first man attempting to hit her. She dodged and attacked another. A sword touched her leg, another her arm. She dived to the ground. Rolled, jumped. She fell, bled, screamed, attacked. One hit her straight in the jaw, and she fell backward. She rolled and striked a body. Two swords threatened to finish her. Her eyes fell on the hidden dagger. No time to think. She grabbed the dagger, threw it on a man’s face, pierced the other’s body, rolled to dodge the last.

It took all her strength to get up and look at the man in front of her. Her knees were shaking, threatening to give up on her at every moment. She was giving her back to her family, and she couldn’t see their broken expression.

Because Edmund knew when she was exhausted. He knew when Y/N couldn’t move anymore, and he knew she felt like that at this very moment. Peter still hoped she would find the energy to kill the last one, he hoped she could get him by surprise if she attacked quickly enough. Both screamed when she fell back on her knees while letting go of her sword, and when she looked down, as if she was accepting her fate. As if she was ready to die.

“Y/N!” screamed Peter.

“No! Y/N, NO!”

Edmund tried to join his twin to protect her, but Peter had grabbed him, himself being held by Caspian. They didn’t notice Y/N slightly jumping when she heard them. The sword of the Telmarine seemed to fell on her in slow motion, and Peter and Edmund saw it hit her back. At the same moment, the soldier fell backward, Y/N on the top of him.

The following seconds seemed to last hours, everyone looking in disbelief at the two immobile bodies. Then, slowly, very slowly, her groans covered by the cheers of the Narnians, Y/N got up. Her chainmail had protected her, and in a desperate attempt, she had jumped on the solder to tackle him on the ground, her arm extended and her sword ready to kill.

Peter and Edmund rushed toward her. Y/N turned around and fell in Edmund’s arms.

“You did it! Y/N you did it!” Edmund had never felt so relieved in his life. “You scared me, don’t ever do anything like this anymore!”

“I can’t promise…” she smiled weakly. “Wait, I’ve got something to do.”

Y/N dragged her exhausted body toward a soldier. She ripped the dagger from his bloodied face and walked slowly and solemnly to Miraz. With a thud, she planted the dagger in the wooden table, and the weapon shook a bit. A puddle of blood was forming around it, soaking Miraz’s weapons. He seemed infuriated and looked up to Y/N as if he could kill her on the spot.

“Peter is a thousand time stronger than me.” She said with the most royal voice she had ever used. “If you want to stand a chance against my brother, I hope for you you’re a thousand time stronger than all these soldiers.”

And she left without adding anything, stumbling toward her brothers. Edmund wrapped an arm around her waist, Peter around her shoulders, and they slowly joined the mound under the Narnians’ cheerings.

#this is what happens when i binge watch Narnia #the chronicles of narnia #narnia imagine #edmund pevensie #peter pevensie #edmund x twin reader #edmund x twin #sister reader #peter x sister reader

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bigskydreaming · 5 years ago

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One of the biggest problems with refusing to give much acknowledgment to young Dick Grayson as having been very traumatized rather than just ‘cheered up within a couple of months after coming to the Manor, all on his own, cuz Dick’s just like that, now on with the cute Bruce and young Dick Feels with the occasional light angst of a nightmare’.....

Is fandom is really missing out on a ton of opportunities to actually explore the idea of Good Dad Bruce Wayne that so many people try to instead superimpose on his shittier moments.

Because yeah, there’s a lot of cute headcanons and fics out there about how adorable Dick was as a kid and he and Bruce being so close and Bruce being like the ideal parent and guardian to Dick.....

But like....its easy to be or at least come across as an ideal parent and guardian....when your kid is this happy, plucky, cart-wheeling spirited boy always running around full of light and laughter.

And that’s not who Dick was, when he first came to the Manor!

He was a traumatized eight to ten year old, who’d had his whole world ripped away and replaced entirely with an unfamiliar one he didn’t want.

So many people cite the line about how he didn’t want Bruce to replace his dad and that’s why Bruce waited so long to adopt him....but follow that thread back to its source.

You think grieving, has-every-reason-in-the-world-not-to-trust-strange-adults, tiny little spitfire Dick Grayson was graceful about accepting Bruce’s attempts at comfort at first, when all he wanted was his parents back, when he likely didn’t want hugs from this weird rich guy he didn’t understand, because all he wanted were hugs from his mom and dad?

Everyone’s so quick to point out adult Dick Grayson’s poor coping mechanisms and repression and tendencies to self-isolate and attempt to deal with his various traumas in less than ideal ways.....

You think those behaviors all just popped into existence for the first time on his eighteenth birthday? That he didn’t do similar things with his very early traumas, because those tendencies had already formed or were in the process of forming because of those very traumas?

My point is...

Dick Grayson was not an easy child when he first came to the Manor.

He couldn’t have been. No one could, in his shoes, and anyone who appeared otherwise would just be faking.

And hey, doesn’t that sound an awful lot like Dick Grayson behavior too?

So, the pun-slinging, mischievous, fun-loving sprite that Dick Grayson was as Robin and in his and Bruce’s most heart warming canon stories....

Was either a total cover-up job plastered over all of Dick’s trauma from the very start, meaning none of it ever got addressed or was something he ever moved past to any degree....

Or else, that happy, laughing young Dick Grayson was who he BECAME. After an actual hard, angsty, angry, occasionally self-isolating, irrational and otherwise Dick Grayson-esque road to recovery.

BECAUSE OF BRUCE.

THAT’S what this fandom is missing more than anything, if you ask me. Actual looks at the HARD early times with Dick and Bruce, where this young, inexperienced, totally in over his head Bruce Wayne who’s fast realizing he doesn’t have as much insight into this grieving child as he naively first assumed...

FIGURES IT OUT.

Day by day.

BY DOING THE WORK.

By being there for this kid through all the ups and downs. By refusing to be pushed away and shut out no matter how many times and how many ways Dick tried. By passing every test put before him by the untrusting kid betrayed by the system nominally there to protect him, who needed PROOF that there were still good people out there, still good adults, and that Bruce was one of them, that Dick could trust him, count on him, HE WASN’T GOING TO LEAVE HIM, no matter if Dick tried giving him reason to because he figured it was going to happen anyway and he wanted to get it over with.

Nothing frustrates me more - and you all know a lot frustrates me, lmao - than this implicit INSISTENCE so many people have that a young, traumatized orphan was the magic nightlight that came into Bruce’s life and transformed its drab darkness into a Disney scene as he smiled again for the first time since his parents died, at the sound of laughter....from this...young...traumatized...freshly orphaned and mistreated kid.

I’m sorry.

What?

Like, this is what it all traces back to. This is where the idea that Dick is never traumatized himself, or at least never enough so that it prevents him from doing what he’s really there to do, which is brighten everyone else’s life....

BECAUSE SO MANY PEOPLE ACT LIKE HE SOMEHOW MANAGED TO DO THAT FOR BRUCE, EVEN IN THE RELATIVE IMMEDIATE AFTERMATH OF HIS FAR MORE RECENT TRAUMA.

NO.

That is not how that worked, lmao!

That was never going to be an option for how that worked!

When you think that a recently traumatized orphan is the magic cure-all for the FIFTEEN YEARS PAST trauma of a grown adult....

SOMETHING IS NOT CLICKING THERE.

So much of fandom has it completely backwards, I maintain, and so much of what we complain about and criticize about Dick’s writing in both canon and fanon is all just ripple effects emanating out from that.

Because Dick did not brighten Bruce’s life by just being his bubbly, cheerful, adorable sunshine-y self.

Dick brightened Bruce’s life by giving Bruce a reason to CARE about having brightness in it as much as he was surrounded by darkness.

Because Bruce had spent the last fifteen years neglecting to prioritize including any brightness in his own life, for his own sake, because as far as he and his immutable survivor’s guilt were concerned, he didn’t need it, perhaps didn’t deserve it.

BUT HE REFUSED TO LET THAT BE TRUE FOR THIS KID TOO.

He may not have been willing to fight to keep his own life and outlook bright and cheery all these years, but this kid who’d endured so much tragedy in so short a time, was so lost, was so quickly fading away into scraps of nothing compared to the bright, vibrant, larger than life figure Bruce had only briefly caught a glimpse of that night at the circus BEFORE tragedy struck and the world started piling on the darkness and trying to douse that kid’s light....

Bruce was going to fight like hell to keep that from happening, to keep that child he’d only seen for the briefest of times from turning cold and aloof and bitter.

Because maybe the problem had always been that when it came to himself, he didn’t remember what it had been like before his parents died, what he’d been like. He couldn’t see, couldn’t imagine, what he was supposed to look like when he was happy, what that even was...couldn’t picture it to even have a goal that the always goal-oriented Bruce Wayne could strive towards.

But a happy, bright, beaming Dick Grayson.....

Bruce knew what that looked like. He’d seen it once, the night they first met. HE KNEW WHAT WAS POSSIBLE FOR DICK, what he could be, because he knew and remembered seeing Dick be that before...and there was a clear picture for that, a goal, something that could be aimed for, something to keep aiming for even when it seemed impossible to reach at times.

But it wasn’t impossible. Not for Dick. No matter how hard it got at times, no matter how much Dick pushed him away or tried to drown himself in darkness and shut off all feelings, armor up all his vulnerable parts where the world might sneak in and hurt him.....Bruce wasn’t going to quit because that happier Dick Grayson was out there, was still a possibility. He’d seen it, captured it in his mind, held it up in his memories as proof of purpose whenever he started to doubt himself, or Dick’s ability to recover, or his ability to be the one to help Dick recover...

But if not him, who else was going to do whatever it took to be whatever Dick needed? As far as Bruce could tell, especially in takes where the system already had its shot at doing right by Dick and demonstrated an appalling lack of giving a fuck before Bruce stepped into the ring.....nobody else but Bruce seemed to remember that happier, brighter Dick Grayson. Nobody else seemed as invested in preserving THAT version of him, keeping it alive, fanning the last dying sparks of that bright spirit as long as it took to reignite back into a blazing bonfire that would become a beacon of brightness for Bruce himself, and a whole city and at times even a whole world.

So when you can’t trust anyone else to do a job right, you do it yourself. That’s ALWAYS been Bruce’s philosophy. Hell, its the whole nature of his control freak tendencies.

So that’s what Bruce did. And nobody does stubborn like him, not even Dick Grayson, and eventually, even the angry, bitter, untrusting and totally traumatized version of himself Dick had every possibility of turning into, instead gave way to Bruce’s far more determined refusal to let that happen, and Dick was like, well fuck it, guess I’ll be happy again if you’re gonna be like that about it.

I mean, lol, not really, but you get my point.

Dick didn’t save Bruce.

BRUCE SAVED DICK.

And not by just opening up his home to him. Not by just being someone who nominally, casually, as though that’s all there was to it was just ‘there for him while Dick grieved and recovered’ like it was as simple as that.

There was nothing simple about it. There couldn’t have been. Because there’s nothing simple about that much grief, that much trauma, that much upheaval, that many reasons to give up on the world and refuse to let anyone in or ever really trust anyone again.

Y’know. Like happened for Bruce, over a course of fifteen years, because this stuff is a JOURNEY not an anecdote like ‘well that happened but then they got over it and became superheroes, the end.’

No. Putting a roof over his head and food on his plate and even giving him a mask and a cape, those were just actions. Those were just pieces. Those were just thumbnails of the big picture.

None of those saved Dick. Made him the man, the hero he became.

BRUCE DID THE WORK.

Its that simple, and its also that complex. It was a process. It was a journey. It was a long hard road full of pitfalls and self doubt and second guessing and frustration. It was a million reasons to give up or turn back and only one reason to keep going, but one reason was all he needed. To save this one child. Not just by catching a bad guy or punching a Rogue. But to save him FULLY. His spirit as much as his body.

There’s a saying that goes something like “save one child, you save them all.”

Because the thing is, no matter how much Bruce might want to at times, he couldn’t do that for every single orphan out there. BE THERE, to the extent needed to actually bring Dick back from where his traumas had taken him.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t do that for this one, for whatever reason Bruce latched on to him as the one he just couldn’t shake, couldn’t stand to see this way, HAD to do something, anything, everything to stop that. Maybe because Dick did remind him so much of himself in that one crucial moment. Maybe because he felt guilty for not doing more sooner, when he found out what CPS had actually done instead of helping him. Maybe for reasons Bruce himself could never explain, so he just grabbed at any explanation he could think of for why he felt such a bone-deep certainty that this kid, this one specifically, needed him in specific.

Doesn’t matter. But what matters is you can’t save every traumatized child, but you save one kid, you save them all.

Because every single child matters as much as all children, to the right pair of eyes.

And you save one child by proving to them they’re worth saving, proving you want to save them, make them believe it....

That child grows up caring about proving to other children they’re worth saving, proving they want to save them, make them believe it. And on and on it goes.

You raise heroes by being their heroes. You save their world by being their world.

And being a hero, saving the world, that’s HARD FUCKING WORK.

You work and you work and you work at it.

And then you work some more.

And through all the times you feel like giving up, you willfully just refuse to and you KEEP. DOING. THE. WORK.

And if you do it long enough, do it well enough, do it so thoroughly and consistently and fully that in time you forget that its work at all, that its not just a fundamental part of you, a basic fact of your being, a reason you exist and breathe and get up in the morning....

Maybe eventually, hopefully, there comes a morning where you look up and realize somewhere along the way, that kid you saved has become a hero. Maybe he’s saving the world now himself.

And then you get back to work.

THAT. Is how you get Good Dad Bruce Wayne.

And I’m here for all the Good Dad Bruce being that, proving all that to Jason, saving him that way. And the same with Tim, and Cass, and Damian, and Steph, and Duke and Harper and Cullen and Colin and whoever you want to throw in the mix.

Its just.

That has to start with Dick.

It just has to.

Because a happy, cheerful, pun-loving, wise-cracking Robin like Dick Grayson was even after all the tragedy he’d endured so early in his life....

As well as THROUGH all the tragedy he endured as Robin...

That doesn’t just HAPPEN.

Kids aren’t just LIKE that.

You don’t get to expect them to just BE like that, all on their own. To just bounce back to their factory settings after enough time filling their grief quota.

Even a kid like Dick, hell, especially a kid like Dick, needs HELP to get to that point after where they’ve been, what they’ve been through. Needs a REASON to get to that point, a reason to try, to care, to get back up and fly again. Needs guidance, a road map. A guiding light through the darkness, a lighthouse that pierces through the fog.

You don’t get to expect them to just make it there on their own if they just spend enough time stumbling around in the dark, getting even more banged up as they trip and fall and crash into things with no idea what to look out for or a clue they might be headed down an even more dangerous path.

Saving people is hard work. There are no shortcuts. And it never stops.

Bruce Wayne knew that when Dick was younger. He proved it, time and time again.

Dick Grayson the hero IS the proof of that.

You only actually get Bad Dad Bruce Wayne...when he forgets to do the work. Stops doing it, stops trying. Maybe thinks he doesn’t have to do the work anymore, or at least not do as much of it. Thinks maybe he’s done now, its all up to Dick now.

No. Taking a kid in, raising them, making yourself their world until they feel safe and comfortable enough to look beyond you to see what else is out there again....that’s a job you don’t ever get to stop doing, once you willingly start. There is no clocking out. You don’t go home at the end of the day and not expect to see them there, because its their home too and if they feel otherwise or aren’t sure of that, that just means you have more work to do.

So you want to nip Bad Dad Bruce Wayne in the bud?

And not just in terms of Dick, but all or any of his children?

You still have to START with Dick and KEEP BRUCE DOING THE WORK with Dick. Putting in the time, the effort, the care, not taking him for granted, and never letting there reach a point where Bruce thinks Dick’s old enough that Bruce doesn’t need to do that anymore.

Because a Bruce that stops doing the work with Dick is a Bruce that’s going to stop doing the work with all his other kids in due time as well.

Especially since the more you treat Dick Grayson’s early years with Bruce like they were all carefree and trauma proof, just laughter and puns and Saturday morning cartoons....

The more it begs the question....

If Bruce can’t even make it work with a kid that ‘makes it that easy’....how the FUCK do you think he can make it work with all the kids you guys all so much more easily regard as more traumatized, more difficult, harder to reach or get through to?

Like....the more you accept Bruce had to do actual WORK to help Dick heal, the more Jason and all the others benefit by extension....because it makes Bruce that much more intuitive by the time he gets to them, that much more aware of his own actions and choices and impact.

This fandom wants more Good Dad Bruce Wayne content so bad, well guess what, I actually do too.

But if you want Bruce to never forget to keep doing the work, to keep caring, to keep making an effort and making a point to BE there for his kids...

Then as content creators....it doesn’t work if you forget to make Bruce do that work, make those efforts.

And not just for some of his kids, but ALL of them.

Because if you can justify him not needing to do the work with one of them, you’re only kidding yourself if you think your version of his character could never justify giving up on doing the work for any of the others too.

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musicallisto · 4 years ago

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without fail tag

THE “WITHOUT FAIL” TAG — List five things that you, WITHOUT FAIL, weave into or explore in your stories, whether it be specific themes or tropes, character archetypes, allusions to other literary works, what have you! It really can be anything that you consistently include in your narratives for whatever reason. Then invite others to share theirs by tagging them!

I was tagged by @deadlymodern - thank you so much for tagging me, this tag is amazing and I loved reading your answers! I can tell you have a very thorough approach to your writing & themes, it’s so cool!

(tagging people at the bottom of the post if you want to skip)

1. flowers, skies & words

grouping them together since they're all related to a wider, general literary device: symbols and allegories in my stories. Without fail, I’ll always use flower symbolism to evoke certain themes, places, characters... withered petals for death, blossoms for youth, you name it, it’s probably been in one of my stories. just consider my main WIP’s title, The Grave of Roses (Le Tombeau des Roses). It’s a little basic, and has been used time and time before in literature, but I still love it.

Other elements that often make it into my stories as symbols are planes (because I love aviation obviously, but also as a symbol of breaking free, independence, of man’s domination on mortality, what with having tamed the skies, but also his frail condition and how everything hangs on a thread). Also, the sky is pretty.

And lastly, words, stories, novels always have their place in my stories, and more often than not one of my characters is a writer, or someone who uses words and stories as some kind of comfort, outlet, or a driving force.

At its [the tombstone] foot, below the name, red roses piled up, enough of them to cover ten graves. A single vermilion bud, a wind-swept poppy, clashed with the rest of the bouquet, and Samuel knew that it was William's children who had placed it there. Only they knew that he didn't even like roses anymore, and that he would come to lay poppies on his father's memorial every time he returned to London...

The tomb was both smaller and prettier than Samuel imagined, less opulent than England would have wanted to give its precious child. The morning sun, like a caress, illuminated the epitaph, a Latin verse that Samuel had known in the past. “Bury me southward,” he heard William say so clearly that he almost turned around, "so that I can look at England and France in the same breath." His name, however, was drenched in full light, facing east, and inexplicably this saddened Samuel.

“And there it is... it's pretty, don't you think? I don't know if he would have liked it... You probably know it better than I do...”

“And why do you care about that, huh? You don't even believe in God.” “He's a writer. He believes in symbols.” “He believes in vanity, alright.”

“I think he would have liked it anyway,” he nodded in agreement, his eyes glued to the lonely poppy. (Translation)

2. parental roughnesses

this was bound to come, because I feel like we were all pretty fucked up at some point in our lives from our upbringing. I didn’t go for straight up “parental issues” because I don’t deal with like, abusive or absent parents or anything, just complicated relationships between parents and their children, but who still love each other. Oftentimes it has to do with one of the children idealizing the heck out of their parent and slowly realizing that they make mistakes and are not a hero at all, and/or unmeetable expectations and parental pressure. but it’s not like I’m projecting or anything lol

“You never knew Father, William,” Grace stopped him immediately [...]. “Don't you dare pretend you know what it's like.”

“Growing up without a father is not necessarily better than losing him in childhood! Everyone here has suffered from his disappearance, Grace. You have no idea how much I miss him, despite never meeting him. But that's all in the past now. And there's no reason for there to be another war.”

“Of course there is!” she retorted ferociously, despite the tears spilling from her eyes. “Of course there is, and they're going to send you there like Father, and you'll want to play hero like Father, and then you'll get shot down like a dog! Where's it going to be this time, huh? Above Luxembourg, just like him, or maybe somewhere in your beloved France?” (Translation)

3. patriotism

One way or another, all my stories always deal with patriotism, nationalism, pride in one’s country and more broadly speaking one’s relationship to it. It questions what it means to belong to a country, to share one culture, one language; does it justify acting in the benefit of one’s country, and where do you draw the line before you intentionnally harm others’; what even is a country, a nationality, and it what sense do you belong to one, and what do you owe it, if you even owe it anything? Is it wrong or right to feel love and attachment to your place of origin? And what does it mean to fight for your country, for its values, for its people? & other things of the like. It probably stems from my own experience as a binational person; growing up, I was always asked stuff like “but who do you root for in a football game” “but are you like really French or not?” “if Spain and France got into a war what would you do?”, and this all lead me to question “am I more French or am I more Spanish - which one am I, and which one would others perceive me to be - do I need to pick a side? And how can I express my affection to these places that raised me both differently, without undermining the other - or others? can I still be proud of my heritage given the horrors my countries have committed in the past?”. I still haven’t found a definitive answer, so my writing is just me throwing trails out to the world and hoping I’ll figure it out someday. that’s why my stories often have a war setting; firstly I just love historical fiction, and secondly it’s the perfect backdrop for all these questions to unfold.

William laughed at the idea - he, a true Frenchman! It was a very silly thought. He may have loved what he had seen of Charlotte's country, but England was not to be ashamed of any other land, for it was the only one he would love until his last breath. (Translation.)

4. just a hint of supernatural

I love me a good ghost story, and I’m a fan of everything spooky, but what’s subtly spooky, and not the gory, in-your-face horror. This particular theme may have increased since I saw The Haunting of Hill House which completely OBLITERATED ME with how it uses the house and its ghosts to tell a story of family and trauma and memories... but I’ve loved ghost stories forever. Another piece that truly resonated with me was One Hundred Years of Solitude (Cien años de soledad) by Gabriel García Márquez. It was my first dive into the world of magical realism and I didn’t make it out of there the same person I was when I entered. This one is not necessarily included in every piece without fail, because some are just too anchored in reality, but if it’s not a straight-up spirit or an otherworldly creature, I’ll always find a way to include an aspect of superstition, a myth, a legend, a tale from faraway that is neither proved nor disproved throughout the story. It truly adds to the atmosphere of the world, even in a very realistic and gritty setting, I believe.

I hear murmurs of legends among the soldiers. [...] One of those stories caught my attention, I must admit... It is not very special, nothing more than a children's tale, but I thought it was beautiful enough to please your Romantic soul. Some pilots speak of a cemetery, somewhere in the countryside north of London, which has something mystical about it, lost in the flowers that sway as far as the eye can see, in the calm rhythm of the wind, wrapped in the heady scent of eternal spring, and where the bravest warriors would go to rest forever, tired of their exploits and the continual explosions. No one knows exactly where it is or what to do to be buried there, but this beautiful image simply floats like a dream in the minds of many and, I confess, in mine as well since I first heard about it.

It is said that there only flowers dare to disturb the heroes in their sleep... This fragment of silence is called the Grave of the Roses.

So if I were to leave you, if you were to hear that I am gone...

With a bit of luck, that is where you will find me.

5. love

this one is broader and less obvious than you might think. Of course, I’ll always, always implement an element of romance to my story (and more often than not it’s angsty with star-crossed lovers or insurmountable obstacles or forbidden romances and whatnot), but there’s more to it. I don’t think I have ever written a story that is entirely grim and bleak, simply because I do not believe the world is built like that. I’ve said time and time again that love is my favorite thing in the world, and I believe it is the force that drives us all forward and connects us all together; love is, to me, the truest power of humanity, and its inherent purpose. And love covers all subjects and all types of relationships, but my absolute favorite ways to explore and show love in my stories is through long-lasting, rock-solid friendships (because friendships are often overlooked both in fiction and real life), and just a grandiose love letter to humanity as a whole. I’m an optimist, and many people who have suffered more than I have would deem me naive for thinking this - and I cannot blame them -, but as Anne Frank put it more bravely than I ever could, “despite everything, I still think humans are good at heart”. My stories are always born out of love and made for love. For the love of humanity and kindness and literature and love of myself, too, because sometimes I just like rereading the words and thinking, “wow, I’ve made it this far. look at me go.” In a word, yes, I would say that is what it boils down to; my work, but also what I hope my entire life and being will be. An ode to love.

“He admired you and truly loved you, you know. You were a good leader, I'm sure, and a good friend, above all.”

He thought she was going to put her hand on his shoulder, and prepared to bend to avoid it, but instead she came to rest on the polished marble of the tomb, which was already beginning to erode at the corners. The soft light bathed her hand, and Samuel's on the other corner, still resting above William's surname, the only thing he had been proud of from beginning to end.

“And I loved him too. I loved them all. If you only knew...”

well, I got carried away, as I always do when talking about my writing, but it made me miss it so much. I haven’t worked on any of my projects since literally October and I’m feeling the void rn. anyway, thank you again for enabling me to ramble about what I love most, Thais! and I’m tagging @softeninglooks, @lxncelot, @myriadimagines, @swanimagines & @randomfandomimagine + plus any writer who wants to talk about their marvelous work <3

#tag game #mywriting #long post #writing #ltdr

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swanqiu · 4 years ago

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A PLAYLIST FOR CHO x ERIC. @ericbrandonrp — quote from this thread.

1. latch (cover) - kodaline

and how did you do it? you got me losing all my breath. what did you give me to have my heart beat out my chest?

2. sex on fire - kings of leon

soft lips are open, them knuckles are pale— feels like you’re dyin’.

3. sigh no more - mumford and sons

my heart was never pure, you know me, you know me.

4. you (acoustic) - benny blanco ft. marshmello & vance joy

there were times when you would reach out for a little more of me, now i can see how much you hurt when i stood still.

5. to the sea - seafret ft. rosie carney

do you think of me when you look to the sea? darling, we will never break.

ess commentary: a lot of these songs center around touch and being aware of the effect that another person has on you, whether it’s a physical reaction or an emotional reaction or a desire to be better because of what this other person encourages in you. i didn’t intend for so many of these to have angsty undertones, but the messages in these songs all seemed to fit this ship really well! (and anyway, it was kind of inevitable; this ship has angst potential written all over it, tbh. it’s just a waiting game now for when we reach that part in the current thread...)

“latch” focuses a lot on the initial stages of curiosity that i think eric and cho have toward one another, especially with the way their presence or their hands can communicate a lot. it’s a lot of that desire to attach yourself to someone who gives you those feelings of comfort, and then wanting to explore more of those feelings.

“sigh no more” takes a lot of quotes from shakespeare’s much ado about nothing. the idea of eric, torn between this 1. possibility of love and 2. internalization that he’s not worthy of it or whatever, is a really interesting internal dilemma to me. it’s almost like he self-sabotages his chance at happiness because of this view he has of himself and his past, and the lyrics are almost as if he’s apologizing to cho, in a way (...like maybe when she eventually finds out about his past? 👀). in the same song, we get a resolution of yes, love is difficult and yes, the people you love might do things that hurt you or themselves and yes, we often are vulnerable and give love without knowing if it will ever be returned... but then there’s this sort of promise that these sacrifices and compromises and experiences can be worth it. and i think that’s a promise that i see cho making to eric, even after she finds out about his past. especially after she finds out about his past.

"you” is more about the reflection part of their relationship, after they’ve experienced the big conflicts and revelations about one another. even after all of this, i see eric just thinking about this relationship, looking back to when he might have been more closed off about his past and how that, ultimately, hurt the growth of their relationship at the time (considering that cho tries, as an adult, to be as honest as possible with her emotions and who she is). there was always this looming fear that she would hate him for who he used to be, and these lyrics reflect eric thinking about those types of thoughts. but ultimately, now, in hindsight, rather than hiding these parts of himself, or just straight up running and leaving, he stays. he chooses, at the end of the day, at the end of the night, to be with her. and it’s a conscious and monumental effort, but— the payoff is so, so sweet. (side note: very important that you listen to the acoustic version and not the original! the acoustic just evokes a lot more of that softness that i think gets lost in the original! ❤)

“to the sea” can be summed up with a lot of the same sentiments above, but at its simplest form, it’s about a relationship where the people in it persist despite the difficulties and the passing of time, because of how confident they are in this bond they’ve created. and i’d like to think that’s how eric and cho would be, later on down the road. just looking out over the sea and reflecting on all of the things they’ve gone through and all of the ways they’ve grown and all of the love and appreciation they have for each other— like the sea, constant and deep and there. :)

and finally, the most non-angst song here, “sex on fire” is literally exactly that lol; their sex would probably be very hot! very amazing! very satisfying! 10/10!

honorable mentions: “stormy weather” by kings of leon; “you’re somebody else” by flora cash; and “all i want” by kodaline ;)

#ericbrandonrp #// i had to do some... creative imagining about future scenarios and the possible outcomes of thread(s) for this one but #i had a lot of fun digging through my playlists for this and studying the lyrics #i had so much fun stepping into eric's mind for a little bit and looking at songs from his perspective and how they'd apply to this ship!#i am really having a lot of feelings from a single thread!!! aslgj;agla aaaaa a a a a h!#anyway this was what i did instead of working on my reply to the thread oops hope you can find it in your heart to be forgiving? <3 #indiecho graphics #indiecho face

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luthienebonyx · 5 years ago

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Writing Tag Game

Tagged by: @thisbluespirit

AO3 name: Luthien

Fandoms: My main active fandom for the past almost-year is GoT/ASoIaF - all JB - but there have been many, MANY fandoms over the years. Some of the more long-lasting ones are Once Upon a Time, Stargate Atlantis and Harry Potter.

Tropes: I don’t really think in tropes, though if I find I need them I will grab them and use them shamelessly. I’m a characters first, tropes second kind of girl, so I view tropes as something for me to use as a way of exploring the characters. I like anything that will take me down an angsty path, but I can rarely be bothered with angst that doesn’t ultimately end happily. “They have to suffer so they can be happy” has been my writing motto for a long time.

Number of fics: 134 on AO3, though that includes compilations of ficlets and drabble sequences, and doesn’t include some of my early fic or various ficlets or comment fics that were only ever posted on tumblr or LJ. So the real number: who knows?

Fic I spent the most time on: I... don’t know? I mean, there have been fics that I have struggled with for the best part of a year, writing a little bit of a time, and other fics that I’ve written a bunch on, left for months, and then come back to finish in a whirl of activity. So I’m not really sure how to count the time taken. My final non-drabble SGA fic, Home, took me aaaages, but I got there in the end. My Regency AU, You I Know is the GoT fic of mine that’s been a WIP the longest (so far).

Fic I spent the least time on: I’ve written dozens of drabbles - exactly 100 word drabbles - over the years. Sometimes those can come together in 10-15 minutes if the stars are aligned just right, so the least time intensive fic of mine would be one of those. My most recent drabbles are some Jaime x Brienne ones here.

Longest Fic: On AO3, it’s A Fine Romance, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Newt/Tina. But I wrote a 100k fic in my very first fandom which is, thankfully, long lost. And in GoT, while The Aussie Coffee ‘verse is officially a series, in practice it’s one long story. The Coffee ‘verse is at 103k so far, so it’s actually the longest thing I’ve ever written.

Shortest Fic: One of those many, many drabbles.

Most hits/kudos/comment threads/bookmarks:

Overall

Most hits: A Fine Romance, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Newt/Tina. This is also the fic with the greatest number of chapters I’ve just about ever posted, so no real surprise there. (The fannish circles I moved in until relatively recently were quite anti-WIP, so I’ve mostly not posted my fic as WIPs until my last few fandoms.)

Most kudos: Again, A Fine Romance. And again, no real surprise. However, my fic with the second highest number of kudos on AO3 is a PWP one-shot: A Night to Remember, Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, Phryne/Jack. (Yeah, I don’t know either.)

Most comment threads: Yeah, A Fine Romance. Again.

Most bookmarks: More Than a Memory, my initial reaction to the way GoT ended. (Just edging out A Fine Romance by two bookmarks, though.)

My GoT fic

Most hits: More Than a Memory.

Most kudos: The Personal Touch, the story I’m working on atm, which is a mix of massages, wanking, pining and minimal plot.

Most comment threads: You I Know.

Most bookmarks: Same as for overall, More Than a Memory.

Total word count: 758,075 on AO3, but that doesn’t include 100k+ from my first writing fandom, plus the other stuff that’s never been posted to AO3, so the actual number would be something north of 858K.

Favourite fic I wrote: It changes. Plain Jane, OUAT, Rumpel/Belle is always one of my favourites. In terms of my GoT fic, today it’s a toss-up between Beloved, You I Know and More Than a Memory.

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: I don’t think in terms of rewriting. If I let myself think that way, I’d spend my whole life tweaking my old fic and not moving on to anything new. I like posting fic, whether a chapter or an entire fic all at once, because that draws a line under it. Once it’s out there and people have read it, it stays as it is. Also, I don’t think you - well, I, anyway - can ever really quite recapture the headspace I was in when I wrote something in the past, so I prefer to just leave things as they are, warts and all.

Expanding? Yes, that has been known to happen. The two series I’ve written in GoT, After Everything and The Aussie Coffee ‘verse, are both examples of what happens when I start wondering what happened after - or sometimes what happened before.

Share a bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on: I have a few sentences from The Personal Touch that I’ll post for Six Sentence Sunday shortly.

tagging: @samirant @firesign23 @slipsthrufingers @nire-the-mithridatist @ajoblotofjunk @pretty--thief and anyone else who wants to do it.

#memes #writing tag game

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pacifv · 5 years ago

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HE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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