#feel free to dm me if you want to plot things further first - otherwise just go with whatever you want! left this super open-ended so

[niieve]

open to: muses of any gender (m/nb if romantic)

"what are you doing here? it's the middle of the night."

[roleplayingspinosaurus]

Blog is no longer active - follow @forestofforever​

This blog is no longer active, but it will remain online as an archive of sorts. If you are interested in interacting with me, please follow: @forestofforever​

Rules

No godmodding

No smut

No interactions with child characters 

No pregnancy plots. 

I only interact with those that are 18+

I don’t mind seeing these themes on my dash but I don’t personally enjoy writing them.

All of my characters are OC’s so it only makes sense that I am OC friendly. I can usually alter my muses somewhat to fit with your universe, though some plotting may be required to make it all go a bit more smoothly.

Any threads that include Benjamin are bound to be at least a bit triggering. Specifically dealing with themes of abuse, gaslighting and straight up torture. If you do decide to interact with him, please be aware that things could get very unpleasant. We can always discuss the situation beforehand though, since I do believe in respecting those that I write with as well as their muses.

If I don’t receive a reply on our thread for over 2 weeks I’ll consider the thread “inactive.” That doesn’t automatically mean it’s dropped, but I won’t be expecting a reply from you.

The Mun

Memes have no expiration date and I love receiving them, the same goes for my open starters. You're welcome to reblog memes from me, I don't mind it at all.

I’m always open to plot and my inbox and dm’s are always open, so feel free to reach out if you’d like to start a thread sometime or even if you just want to chat!

I’m Lisa, 23 years old with about 10 years of RP experience (though at least 7 of those years are going to go unmentioned because teenage me was no Shakespeare by any means).

I generally reply to threads in about a day, but I don’t mind if you take a bit longer, I understand that people have busy lives. I am a mess at formatting things so I don’t bother trying to make my stuff look fancy. If that’s your thing, totally cool! I just prefer the writing itself and I don’t understand tumblr well enough to make it look any better than it currently does. I do cut my posts though, or at the very least try to. I don’t use Icons but I think it’s cool when others do it. 

The Muses

All muses are played as 30+ unless otherwise specified. Age can be flexible if the thread asks for it, however their age will never go below 20.

Etienne- The Black Cat

Etienne’s family owned a theatre when he was younger, and so he has grown up surrounded by fantasy and drama. Sadly the theatre burned down when he was 15, killing his family in the process.

The experience has left Etienne afraid of fire. Candles won’t cause him to panic, but firepits or fireplaces may cause some visible discomfort. He remains in love with the theatrics that he grew up with, and dramatic is probably a good word to describe him. He’s quick to flirt but slow to let his walls down.

Sylvester- The Crow

Sylvester was a brilliant surgeon until his brother died on his operating table. The guilt and anxiety that followed his brother’s death left Sylvester a shadow of his former self, a shadow which was then mangled even further by a man named Benjamin Forest. Benjamin put Sylvester through hell in an attempt to see how many times you could break someone until they stopped being able to put themselves back together. Sylvester is still going, though one may wonder if he’s still himself after all he’s been through. Sylvester barely considers himself to be a person anymore at all. 

Sylvester is a nervous individual with many odd tics and habits. At first he may seem distant and cold, but as soon as his walls come down (and really, showing him a bit of kindness is often enough for them to go tumbling), he’s the most loyal person around. He’s been starved of affection and struggles to have healthy attachments, which allows your muse the choice; will they show him kindness and try to remove him from an unpleasant situation? Or will they use his already broken psyche to manipulate and control him even further?

Wester- The Big Bad Wolf

Wester is a ray of sunshine, a Golden Retriever in werewolf form. Energetic and social, Wester is easy to get along with, if perhaps a bit difficult to get rid of. Wester is friendly but also a bit naive and an airhead. He enjoys sports and long hikes, and chasing tennis balls (though he tries to only do so while transformed). 

Wester is a werewolf, and he’s not great at keeping it a secret. He is still friendly when transformed, and he can usually control his transformation fairly well unless it’s a full moon. His eyes remain amber even as a human, and his hearing and sense of smell remain more sensitive than that of most. He’s also colorblind. 

Benjamin- The Deer

Benjamin is a pompous prick with more money than dignity and a severe lack of empathy. Getting along with him is a chore, and people really only ever get close to him for his money. Not that they’re going to benefit from it, because Benjamin absolutely will not spend money on anyone unless it benefits him somehow.He’s arrogant, manipulative and just generally unpleasant. That being said, he’s got a pretty face and dimples that might charm some unfortunate individuals right into his bed.

Now if you can overlook all of these significant flaws, you will find a man that might still have a soul after all. He can be very protective of those he loves, but this does come with a great jealousy and possessiveness that should not be taken lightly.

[shxwmaster]

                         “ i’ll have my people talk to your people, sound good ? ”

Independent RP + Ask Blog for Mathias Shaw

• 9+ years RP experience • Est. July 29, 2020 , Rebooted March 2023 • Mun is 25+ • PST Timezone | Limited Availability

Penned by Mimi

          MOBILE LINKS: ( About | Rules | Thread Tracker )

          POSTS ( Plotting Call | Permanent Starter Call | Promo )

Personals / Non-RP Blogs are ALLOWED to follow, BUT do not reblog my posts !

— MUN —

Hi guys, I’m Mimi, 25, She/Her— I’m returning to the Tumblr RPC after having left it 2-3 years ago and I’m excited to be back!

In total, I have 9+ years RP experience, both on Tumblr, ingame and on Discord, and I’m very flexible with most types of RP. My default style is multi-para with icons, but I’ll always mirror your style!

I'm very active on this blog, but also tend to be very sporadic, distracted and forgetful. I have severely untreated ADHD and suffer from a lot of social anxiety, so at times that can throw a wrench in things or slow down my activity significantly. Just a forewarning!

I operate on PST, but I have VERY sporadic availability. I'm usually working Wed-Sun, and I'll be starting college classes soon, so I'll probably only be around either in evenings, or Mon-Wed if I have time. So uh, yeah, between that and the ADHD, please forgive me if I end up very slow or even forget things altogether. Don't be afraid to poke me for threads though!

I also DM occasionally for my RP guild, <Knights of Repentance>. This might occasionally cause a drop in activity. But I still love y'all!

PLEASE poke me if I’m taking too long with a thread and you want to know what’s going on. I will ALWAYS endeavor to try to appease. Sometimes I’m either genuinely working on it and I got stuck, or I really just forgot. Hit me!

I’ve mained Horde for about 15 years now, and though I’ve since read up now on Alliance lore, there are still corners that I’m lacking. If I ever slip up or mistake canon or any Alliance lore, you are legally allowed to kick my ass and correct me. In fact, please, please do that, I encourage it, the last thing I want is to get things wrong, and I like to be as accurate as possible. You can message me, don’t stop yourself from messaging me.

My strengths in writing reside in improv and crafting random situations, scenarios and settings on a whim. I take joy in throwing muses straight into action, so I’m your guy when it comes to that kind of stuff!

— GENERAL —

Canon-typical violence, blood, mentions of death, parental death, emotional abuse, torture and knives are present on this blog.

Personals / Non-RP blogs are free to follow, BUT, please do not reblog any of my posts or threads. Non-RP blogs that share my stuff will get blocked! Otherwise enjoy your stay!

Personals are free to send in asks on or off anon!

Please don't mention incest to me in any shape or form.

No god-modding or meta-gaming

I am mostly canon compliant, though I do have some minor canon divergences, all of which can be read further in my about page. I make it a point to adopt about 85% of RPG lore into my own canon for my own purposes.

The rest of this page are general guidelines.

— RP —

VERY OC friendly. If you've got connections or something you want to establish beforehand, hit me up, I'm ALWAYS open to plotting with OCs.

On that note, I'm always open to establishing any connections or relationships or dynamics ahead of time with any muse! You need only message me!

I will always read your rules and about page thoroughly before interacting with you

I am multiship! I love ships, I'm open to ships! Past or present, AU or otherwise, hit me.

I ship with chemistry. Yes, I love ships, but I definitely prefer to have our muses interact first to see how they get along before moving forward.

You are always welcome to RP unrequited feelings or have your character act or feel however they would around Shaw, I've no problem with that, so long as you're not forcing a ship! Again, chemistry and communication beforehand is a must before a ship.

However, I am uncomfortable with some age gaps. If your character is in their 20s (or equivalent to their 20s, if they're an elf), shipping's off the table.

At the moment, the only universes I have available for Shaw are in WoW and Overwatch (Blackwatch!Shaw), thus I'm more inclined to interact with folks from those franchises, but there are always exceptions!

I have a small handful of AUs that can be found on my verses page.

If you want to interact with any of my AUs, just specify or message me!

I'm welcome to creating new AUs with folks as well!

IC =/= OOC! Shaw is a very serious character and tends to be rather apathetic and rude at times. I, however, am not him, it is not personal!

Mirror RP - I match your length, and would ask you to do the same! If I write a paragraph or two and only get a sentence back, chances are I’m prooobably not going to RP with you again, sorry!

Dash Games are Free Game! If I didn't tag you in a dash meme or game, like one of those quizzes or templates to fill out, take it anyways. Feel free to assume that I've tagged you, tag me in it too if you complete it. There's nothing I love more than seeing other folks ramble about their muses!

EVERYONE is invited to send me RP memes! ESPECIALLY if we haven't interacted yet!

Asks being turned to threads are awesome and welcome

In fact, I make a habit of turning my asks into starters, so you’re more than welcome to reply to any of those ICly if desired! I scarcely do drabbles for asks unless the prompt is specifically for a drabble.

Please note however, that I prefer to keep all threads to text posts, so if we’re turning an ask post to a thread, I will repost it in a new text post altogether!

— MISC —

I’m a legal adult, I’m cool with NSFW. Only send NSFW prompts IF I reblogged/invited them though!

IF NSFW threads were to take place here, I would 1. like to discuss it beforehand, and 2. put it under a readmore

If you need me to tag triggers, just message me, I’ll do that

My Discord is available upon request. I will never publicize my Discord information. Same for my BNet info.

[dragoncxv360]

Aight, makin a new pinned post

I'm sorry for the lack of image IDs on most of my art, I just don't really have the spoons to write them most of the time

Any nsfw posts will now go on a sideblog. Suggestive stuff will still go here (with tags of course)

Comissions are open

Here is the commission sheets

(Drawing requests are closed unless I specifically ask for requests)

You can find my art on here under the tags my art or ellery's art

Also also, asks are welcome! I'd love to chat about stuff! Keep it sfw and free of gore tho please (also I usually have anon asks off in case of harrassment so sorry about that for the people who get anxious off anon)

Update 2/7/24, asks are going to be off until further notice because of the fucking spam bots

Any fnafics I post will be on my ao3 (I will list them under the cut) Sadly due to ai bullshit I have locked them to registered users only. (Sunflowers and Stardust is cross posted on ffn but it is the only one I have cross posted for the time being so if you see any of my other stories on there, they were not posted by me and are therefore stolen)

Currently looking into other options for my stickers since I’ve decided I don’t wanna use teespring anymore. You can support me on kofi

Also I have a few poems and stuff posted here under the my writing tag (also under the ellery's writing tag)

Info post on my security sun au

Info post on You're Everything I'm Not

I have my ocs tagged by their name (eg. All my art of Pinky is tagged as Pinky Roth) so it's easier to find other art of them. I also have the tag you're everything I'm not for ocs from that story

Do not repost, trace, or edit my art. Do not repost or edit my writing. This includes translations and dubbing/narrating my art or fics. I especially do not want reposts with all this AI bullshit data scraping.

Please ask before using my art as a pfp or banner or anything like that

(if it was made for you you can use it as a pfp or banner)

Using my art as a phone/tablet/computer wallpaper is totally ok though

Do not fucking feed my art or writing to ai, you will be blocked and blacklisted from my comissions and anything else involving me on sight. This includes using my art, writing, and/or characters in chat ai bots, it's not ok and never will be.

Do not roleplay my ocs or use my character art and/or writing/worldbuilding for your own story or dnd character or campaign.

Also I don't currently feel comfortable with other people writing fics for my aus (or ocs). I know most people are ok with that but I just currently am not quite 100% ok with it

Making fanart of my aus and/or ocs/stories is totally ok, just please keep it sfw and free of heavy gore. I am aware my fics and/or art often includes such topics but I'm not currently comfortable with other people drawing those things for me. If you would like more specific rules for my characters, you can check my artfight

If you are heavily inspired by my story/stories for one of your own fics (by heavily inspired I don't mean stuff like wanting to write a genderfluid Sun too or even wanting to write a fic with a similar plot such as a fic with Sun dying and Moon dealing with the grief of that loss, I mean stuff that copies multiple and very specific aspects of my stories) please send an ask or a dm to me, I'd be happy to discuss what is and isn't comfortable so that we can work something out. Please note though that I may say something is too heavily inspired to be comfortable for me. I'd most likely be happy to help give you pointers on changes you can make so it's comfortable for me though.

Fics are listed in the order they’ve been posted (based on the first chapter for multichapter fics). Please look to ao3 for reference to which au each fic belongs to and what order they’re in (they’re listed in chronological order unless specified otherwise but you don’t need to read them in that order or read all the fics in the series)

Blood and Oil

Explicit

Major character death, graphic depictions of violence

Sun x Moon (past, sort of), Moon x Monty (there are other background ships but these are the main ones)

Incomplete, ongoing

This fic deals with or eventually will deal with: death, murder, grief, ptsd, trauma, nightmares, hallucinations, self harm, dissisociation, and toxic relationships and coping habits. It will also deal with sex and sexual themes, including sexual hallucinations. While this fic will deal with complicated feelings around sex and self worth in relation to sex, it will NOT deal with rape/non con. Please use caution when reading this story

Moon is patrolling one night when he comes across an intruder with more violent intentions. Things go downhill fast and just when he thinks he's going to die and this is the end, Sun sacrifices herself and saves Moon. Now left in a world without his lifelong partner and other half, Moon must figure out how to survive alone.

Good Girl

Explicit

No archive warnings apply

Sun x Moon, Sun x Moon x Monty

Complete, 1 chapter

Wordcount: 5,081

Sun accidentally calls Moon a good girl during daycare hours and Moon likes it more than he thought he would

Don't Cry, Firefly

Explicit

No archieve warnings apply

Sun x Moon

Complete, 3/3 chapters

Wordcount: 10,904

He felt his face heat up as he realized what was going on. He was about to walk away to give Sun some privacy when he heard them whimper, "M-Moonlight, I need you."

Moon froze. It wasn't the first time he'd walked in on Sun masturbating, but it was the first time he'd ever heard them say his name during it.

Claws and Teeth

Explicit

No archive warnings apply

Sundrop x Moondrop x Eclipse x Nova (oc)

Complete, 1 chapter

Wordcount: 4,447

Eclipse couldn't believe how he'd ended up in this position. Everything had started as a normal night with his partners, watching a movie and playing games, and now they were making out with him on the couch and biting him.

Eclipse has a fun night with his partners in a role he doesn't normally take, the sub

Stitch Me Up

Explicit

No Archieve Warnings Apply

Eclipse x Nova (oc)

Complete, 1 chapter

Wordcount: 1,565

After being sent to the hospital for a bad panic attack that resulted in self harm, Nova comforts Eclipse with some soft sex

This fic mentions depression, anxiety, and self harm. Please don’t read it if you are sensitive to those topics

Sunflowers and Stardust

Mature

Graphic depictions of violence

Sun x Moon, other relationships to be added

Incomplete, ongoing

The main fic for my security Sun au

Starting a few months after the virus has been fixed, this fic will explore Sun and Moon's future over the next 11 years, and delve into what the prior 10 years were like for them. There will be lots of shenanigans and lots of self discovery as they grow and heal. The glamrocks, Foxy, and DJ will be in the fic but won't be focused on as much as Sun and Moon. There will also be lots of relationships explored in this fic as most of the characters are poly in some way. I will update the relationship tags as needed.

Any smut will be contained to separate fics so that people who don't like that stuff don't have to read it. However, there are discussions of Moon’s sex repulsion and Sun’s lack thereof, meaning there are vague mentions of how Sun feels. There will not be any explicit sex or masturbation scenes in the fic though, merely discussions of boundaries on these sorts of things.

Making Starlings

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Sundrop x Moondrop x Eclipse x Nova (oc)

Complete, 3 chapters

Wordcount: 9,941

Moondrop plans a fun night of movies and sex with their other partners, Nova and Eclipse, for Sundrop, but gets worked up before the movies even begin.

This fic will deal with the begining of pregnancy in later chapters so be aware of that

Why Am I So Hot?

Explicit

No Archieve Warnings Apply

Sun x Moon x Monty, Sun x Moon

Complete, Chapters 3/3

Wordcount: 6,747

Sun goes into heat and Moon and Monty help him

Chapter 2 is Moon's heat, chapter 3 is Monty's heat

Sometimes Things Start With Love And All We Get Is What's Left Over

Explicit

No Archieve Warnings Apply

Sun x Moon, Sun and Moon and reader (platonic, not romantic or sexual)

Incomplete, ongoing

Fantasy au where Sun and Moon run an odds and ends shop and meet y/n when they come in looking for lavender. Moon is instantly smitten and Sun teases his partner endlessly about it.

Lune and Moon

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Sun x Moon, Moon x Monty, Moon x Moon

Chapters 2/3

Warning: contains spoilers for the end of Blood and Oil

Completely non canon thing where the two different versions of the security sun au cast meet and both Moons fall for each other

Lune is the Moon from Blood and Oil, she's transitioned and changed her name

Language, Darling

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Sun x Moon, Sun x Moon x Eclipse

Complete, 1 chapter

Wordcount: 3,011

Eclipse gets worked up after Sun and Moon tickle it and they end up fucking it

Wreck and Recovery

Explicit

Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Eclipse x Nova (oc), past Eclipse x Monty

Complete, 2 chapters

Wordcount: 4,633

The first chapter does not deal with rape, the second chapter does. Please heed the tags as the second chapter is violent.

A prequel of sorts to the Organic/Recovery au's current fics, explaining Eclipse's past with Monty and initial relationship with Nova

(Also, I shouldn't really have to say this but no I don't condone this shit, and this is likely the only time I'll write it actually happening instead of it being an attempt and being stopped)

Aftermath

Explicit

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Eclipse x Nova (oc)

Complete, 1 chapter

Wordcount: 2,460

I wanted to write a bit more detail about the aftermath of Wreck and Recovery so I wrote this

CW: mentions of past abuse and mentions of past rape

Set 3 or so months after Wreck and Recovery, Eclipse and Nova are working through the complex emotions they're both feeling and trying to talk to each other about new boundaries

And I'll Love You Softly

Explicit

No Archieve Warnings Apply

Eclipse x Nova (oc) x Sundrop x Moondrop

Complete, 1 chapter

Wordcount: 9,148

“Did you wake up like this?” he repeated his question from earlier.

They nodded. “Y-yeah. I was really hot and—ohhh,” they moaned as their clit slid at the perfect angle across his thigh, “a-and really horny,” they finished. “Nngh, just wanna be bred,” they whined, wiggling their hips in circles.

He frowned, brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and concern. “It's almost like you're in—” he cut off, eyes going wide. “Oh…” he said quietly. “I…didn't know that would happen.”

“Th-that what would happen?” they asked, unable to stop the whining building up in their throat at the spike of anxiety and confusion coursing through them.

He bit his lip, blushing and looking away. “Y-you're in heat,” he finally said, cupping their cheek in his hand as he glanced back up at them.

...

Eclipse goes into a pseudo heat

I also have a handful of short stories that I wrote in like 2019 on there

[theregoesmylurkerstatus]

So... I have a lot of thoughts on the finale. I've deliberately kept my mouth shut, more or less, on the campaign overall because I'm a firm believer that you can't pass judgement -- at least not complete judgement -- on stories until they're over and done with.

Well, it's done! Kind of crazy. I've been watching Critical Role with almost insane consistency, viewing almost every single episode live, with maybe five-ish exceptions, since episode 19, and I've been blogging it for, what, two and a half years?

It's a weird feeling. It's been such a constant thing for me that I'm always gonna have love for it and remember with a lot of fondness.

...Which is in spite of the fact that I can now comfortably say I'm pretty eh on the ending. I know not being positive about something most of us have loved a lot for a very long time can sting a bit, but I personally think it also stings when people relentlessly crow over how good they think it is or want it to be, to the point where you feel you can't voice your absolutely valid upsets or dissatisfactions. So, here goes, if anyone's interested! I'd be curious to see other opinions, too!

I actually drafted a post talking about my overall frustrations with the campaign a whole two weeks ago, and then scrapped most of it when 140 blew me out of the water. I was really touched, and really happy. I hadn't expected it, but it shockingly felt right, you know?

Unfortunately 141 robbed me of most of that satisfaction and brought me right back to neutral.

The blanket statement you have to make, of course, is that you can’t criticise this as a DnD game, and you can’t be mad at the cast for playing it in a way they think is best for them. They’re the players, Matt’s the DM, and in the end it makes no sense for them to try to make themselves act how they think the audience wants them to, and I’m sure most of the audience wouldn’t like the result anyway.

That said, there is an audience. And that’s where I see this clash coming in. As a DnD game, as long as the players and DM have all enjoyed it and been satisfied, it’s a successful game! But for us, it’s not a DnD game. For us, we’re watching a story be written in real time through the medium of an RPG. And while as a DnD game you can’t fault it, as a piece of media, I completely get why the way things have gone has sat weirdly for a lot of people.

It's not satisfying to see so many character hooks dealt with so quickly or left as an offscreen "and then you do it." If they don't want to keep playing to dive into it, absolutely, but for us who have been watching this as a story with all these character elements get so built up, it's a huge anti-climax.

Which is a lot of what this campaign has been, really.

Oh, Nott’s cursed! But through a really cool character moment that problem is completely taken care of with no consequences we see. Yay, I want her to be Veth and that was an iconic move from Jester! Still, it kind of feels like this was built up to be a big problem and at the first success it was let go... Caleb's got a really intense frightening past he tries to hide, I wonder how the Mighty Nein will respond? Oh, they found out, but it's not a difficult revelation for anyone. Looks like it's easy for them to move past it and forgive. Yeah, that's healthiest for the characters, but huh, kinda undercuts it as a storyline or point of interest. Oooh, Avantika’s back! Ah, they’ve killed her and grabbed the eye again. I mean I don’t want them to die or for Uk’otoa to be free, but I’m starting to feel like that’s not much of a threat anyway. The Traveler’s been kidnapped! Nah he hasn’t, he tried to save Jester so he was let go with no further issue, and also he wasn’t actually in any danger anyway. Oh... Cool. So... Why should I care or be worried?

And these are just the biggest ones I remember being kind of let down by. I wanted to see them STRUGGLE for the successes to have meaning. To my view, threats of failure -- real failure -- really decreased the more the campaign went on, with a few exceptions.

Because don't get me wrong, we've definitely had struggles, and those have made for some of the best moments! Molly’s death, Yasha’s kidnapping, Yeza’s imprisonment. When failures that were threatened are allowed to occur, it’s far more gratifying when it’s followed by success, because you understand that that success was actually necessary. It shows us that what they do really means something.

Honestly, that's why the final battle really shut me up, because nothing makes you quite feel stakes and failure like having two PCs die, and having a resurrection ritual fail -- AND knowing that failure would be delivered on, had it not been for a seemingly miraculous roll of the dice to turn it around. One of the greatest failure's -- Molly's death -- made the success of his resurrection put a lot of my other issues to rest immediately, because to be honest? Molly's resurrection was the biggest success of the campaign, exactly because it was originally the biggest failure.

But this episode, we got to see the other side of making threats and successes feel disappointing -- when you get the impression that success was robbed from you. Again, their characters, their choices, but to have them roll an intervention to get Molly's soul, to convince Molly to come back with his own possessions they've so loved, after so long and so many struggles... only to apparently not get Molly at all?

Changed, of course. Memories, maybe he'd never get them back, though that seems inconsistent to how the initial resurrection was played and Matt's hints. It even makes sense that not having his memories and being a bit different, he might forge a new identity, but insisting Molly was a different person entirely after such a supposed hard won success to get Molly back, especially after what his death meant to the audience and potentially healing that old wound? It robs the narrative of a LOT of catharsis, at least for me and I know many others.

Trent, too, I'm very up and down on. He was so built up -- and what fun that build up had -- and I very much disagreed with the idea that the best story would be dealing with him offscreen.

It's true that you don’t need to explicitly address, confront, or explore every big aspect of character's story hooks and background ties for PCs to move past them and grow healthily. But that does not make it a satisfying viewing experience. People quietly healing in real life is healthy. People quietly healing in an explosive fantasy setting is frustrating for the audience.

What on earth is the point of a story if you don’t get to SEE THE ESTABLISHED CONFLICTS go anywhere? A lot of the characters got distant, quiet resolutions, if that, to everything we wanted to see.

Except, we did get to see Trent. It was a really fun, inventive battle, from opening to conclusion, but much like Travelercon, much like Nott's/Veth's problem with the hag, these were things that the audience in general wanted to see be really dug into and explored, and every single one of them got, in my opinion, quickly tidied up instead. Trent got beaten in the first and only proper battle they had with him, which, after all his build up, is pretty disappointing for a villain many of us wanted to see be a big deal. It really just felt like they were trying to tidy up to get on with the epilogue, which is not what a lot of us were looking for with Trent especially.

And that's how most of their endings felt to me. It didn't feel like any of them had reached a comfortable conclusion. Literally all of them, bar Veth and Caduceus, continued on their character journey threads, without each other and very quickly. Meeting Yasha's tribe and Vandran, Caleb finally openly debating changing time for his parents, Trent and Zeenoth's trials and the changing of the guard at the Assembly... All were things it would have been so fun to have all the PCs react to and explore together, and instead they were fleeting encounters in the latter half of a seven hour finale.

Is all this, from Molly not really coming back to Trent being a finale side plot to the Nein continuing on their individual journeys, potentially realistic to how these fantastical things might go down in real life? Sure! But that's not necessarily a good thing.

Stories THRIVE on conflict and resolution. That’s what makes them FUN! Conflict isn’t nearly so fun in real life and resolutions are often frustrating question marks, so no, past a certain point I don’t WANT stories to be realistic. I want stories to be SATISFYING.

And campaign 2 has fallen far short of the mark.

I haven’t spoken... Basically a word of this for most of the campaign, because as I said I’m a firm believer that you can’t necessarily judge something until it’s over, and because I ALSO firmly believe that being negative WHILE trying to enjoy something is counterproductive. I have had no interest in spoiling or naysaying the fun of the campaign for anyone, least of all myself.

But it's done now, and all I can say is... I really have had fun. I love the characters. I love their relationships. I’m pretty okay with where they’ve ended up. I’m not mad, really, and I’m still going to think of this campaign with a lot of affection. But it hasn’t been a satisfying story, even though for a week following episode 140 I thought, despite all the brushed over story threads, it might be.

So... to try and reclaim some of that satisfaction for myself, I might ignore some aspects of the finale proper. Namely Kingsley specifically. Taliesin's choice -- but to me, it's pretty clear that who we saw at the end of 140 was Molly, and the tags on my posts will reflect that, just as my 141 tags will be for both Kingsley and Molly, for clarity's sake. I personally want to believe Molly did come back, however others might want to interpret it. The victory in 140 that meant so much to me is hollow otherwise, and it just kind of hurts that we would lose Molly after everything. I was okay with him being dead -- I'm not so okay with his resurrection being stolen.

Kingsley will always be canon, but Molly is what I choose to acknowledge. I get if you don't like that take, and that's okay! I didn't care for canon's in the end. That's the good thing about storytelling, is that no one can stop you from making your own versions.

For the people who are hopefully hyped for campaign 3, heck yeah have fun! I’m on the fence. My investment, which... I think I can objectively say was pretty substantive as this blog will attest, doesn't feel rewarded, so I’m not convinced I can faithfully keep up for over three years all over again with a strong possibility that I will once again be left disappointed. It's been a huge chunk of my life, and... yeah!

I’ll take a break, probably, view (and liveblog, if people want!) campaign 1 when I’ve had a mental stretch and vacation, and then... I might start campaign 3. I definitely won’t be able to put the same time in it I did campaign 2 (my first love no matter what), knowing that it’s likely to not be so vindicated, in the end.

I swear I’m actually writing this in fairly good humour, but I totally get its always disappointing when the people you come to for fandom enjoyment just aren't sharing your fun. Honestly I’m half tempted to write all those frigging AUs I have sitting around! But I wanted to say my piece, and try and logically outline why this ending has been lacklustre for so many people, ultimately myself included.

Episode 140 felt right because it felt like a natural conclusion -- these disparate people coming together and finally being whole, finally soothing the hurt that MADE them so long ago. Episode 141 spat on that sentiment -- they all scattered to the winds, not as happy people to live out their dreams, but as confused people chasing up loose threads towards an unknown future, with the friend they thought returned still lost to them, ultimately.

It doesn't feel like the ending we should have gotten for the Mighty Nine, who were finally, finally all together. Until they weren't. So to me? I choose to acknowledge that they were, even if I have to force it to happen post-epilogue in my head.

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

✨WIP/Prompt List✨

These are all my wips and ideas that I've thought to write. If one of them gets you hyped up, send me an ask, comment, or dm, and it might give me the motivation to get my butt in gear and write them (depending on busyness and current frame of mind)! I also may be up to PG-rated meme requests...is that even a thing? idk

They're all pretty happy/fluffy unless noted otherwise. That's just how I roll. All sfw. I do not take fic requests unless it really really strikes my interest cuz if ADHD brain don't go brrr, it ain't happening. Any wips that have posted content will have a link to the first chapter.

So without further ado:

👊 wip, some posted | 👉 wip, none posted | 💭 idea | italics stand-in title

Fullmetal Alchemist

EdWin

👊 Elric Escorts (EdWin and AlMei)—college/modern AU: the Elric brothers start a service at their college to escort people across campus after dark. On their walks, they meet people with pasts, presents, and futures that intrigue them

👉 Baby—modern AU, songfic, sequel to Hello Stranger: What do you do when you meet a stunning stranger that terrifies you with how much of an effect they have on you? Scrounge up the guts to ask them on a date. (And figure out how to get through the date) A/N: I figured if part one was a Stray Kids songfic, part two should be too ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Anyway, here's Wonderw—I mean Mixtape: Oh

👊 I Cain't Say No (but I wish I could)—modern/high school/theatre AU: Ed thought he could drop out after auditioning for the musical...and then he got cast as the lead. Cue situations that put the drama in drama class, including but not limited to a method acting costar, scruples over stage kisses, and stage makeup applied by a not-crush

👊 And Then It Hit Me—college/modern/enemies to lovers AU: Edward achieved every college student's dream: he got hit by a bus. Or, at least, he would have, if some know-it-all hadn't yanked him out of the way at the last second. There goes free tuition...

Other pairings/gen

💭 Havolina (Havoc/Catalina) Bar AU—Catalina wants to go out to a bar but couldn't possibly go alone because it just isn't safe, and Havoc agrees to be her knight in shining armor. Strictly to keep her safe, of course. Perhaps she can get to know him better this way, since Havoc tends to only make an impressive fool of himself with women he's on dates with. And this isn't a date. Probably.

💭 Royai nonsexual FWB, mutual pining, probably modern AU—one day I thought "you know what would be a great/possibly terrible idea [for actual real life situations]? Non-sexual friends with benefits." Like, you're not in a relationship or have romantic feelings for the other, but want a semblance of that in your life. You need cuddles, a plus one for an event, somebody to do stupid romantic (but not for real) things with, someone to tell you you're pretty, someone to ward off creeps, maybe a kiss? Boom. You got it. So yes then I thought it'd be funny/cute to make that royai with a side of mutual pining.

💭 FMA Vietnam War AU—tbh I'm undecided on which generation I would focus on with this one, but there are so many parallels between the American side of the Vietnam War and the military events and perspectives in FMA. Royai/Team Mustang would be the early recruits that willingly shipped off to war while Ed would be one of the disillusioned latecomers to the war. I'm thinking because of his age and circumstances, he'd be a researcher for the military rather than a soldier. Still doing it for Al. There are a lot of loose ends and no particular plot thought up yet, but the similarity is so striking, I couldn't not write it down as a possibility to write. Obviously, being war-based, it would be a more mature, angstier fic, although it still probably wouldn't break the T rating, knowing me as a writer and since it's more character-based than action-based. And yeah, I'm a history nerd, fight me 👊🏻 although usually not military history nerd

💭 Ed's comic books—What if the comic books Ed had on his research tab were encoded alchemy texts? But of course, telling Mustang would take all the fun out of it.

💭 Mei & Hughes—just a couple of excitable throwing knife wielders that really should have met. I have no plot. I just think the two of them in the same room would be n e a t.

Mystic Messenger

👊 You Infect Me, covid/lockdown fic (Seven/MC)—Saeyoung Choi is bored to tears during quarantine, so he figures why not text one of the most available RFA members? But after a while, he realizes he's gotten in over his head... A/N: I haven't updated this since January, help. It was also the first fic I wrote, so I've definitely become a more comfortable writer since I started this

👉 The Song of Your Soul Is Not What I Expected (But It's Better) (Jumin/MC)—originally intended to be written for Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang 2021, but that didn't happen lol. For Jumin's first birthday as a married man, he decides to let his wife choose how they spend the evening. She chooses to go to an open mic night, but he never expected that to be her music taste. ...Blink-182. she sings Blink-182. Jumin may do some "MC research" and might learn a Fall Out Boy song as a comeback.

👉 Vanderwaiter (Vanderwood/MC)— MC is new to the world of being a businesswoman, and tries her best to navigate a dinner with a client. Which would be easier if the waiter weren't distractingly good looking. And if the restaurant didn't explode into chaos because his mission as a secret agent went south. (Definitely going to have an action scene, probably involving guns, but no graphic violence)

RWBY

👉 Insurance Scam (Renora)—Nora bursts into Ren's insurance agency asking for medical malpractice insurance for a pillow factory. Let the circus begin, clowns and all. A/N: this was a crack fic/prompt that my sister and I came up with when she was sick and loopy and I took it as a challenge. This will also be my first contribution to FNDM. Maybe I just haven't checked Ao3 since the last two seasons came out (I haven't caught up, don't give me spoilers 😩), but there is a sad, sad lack of good monogamous renora fics out there, and that really should be remedied.

Fruits Basket

👉/💭 Kyoru Bar AU—Tohru thinks it would be fun to go out to a bar with Kyo for their one-year dating anniversary. Kyo agrees, despite his misgivings. Includes: a heavy dose of Kyoko backstory fluff, a dash of Kyo backstory angst, and mayyybe a dash of jealous Kyo because Tohru collects hearts wherever she goes 👀

Ugh I'm finally done, this took so freaking long to get out 😩

As far as meme requests go if that's even a thing, if I've posted about a fandom, it's fair game. If you're not sure if I'm in a fandom, just shoot me an ask/comment/dm. And while I pretty much don't take fic requests, I'm totally open to getting asks on my thoughts about fandom stuff, because I can nearly guarantee you I have some sort of opinion, and I love the attention.

[aiikawarazu]

Hourglass Chapter #20

Title: Singularity

Rated: M

Summary:  Again, Mikasa saw the strange dream that she used to see before Eren transferred to her school. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but Eren told her a secret about her dreams that left her shocked.

FFNet here

Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin 

A/N: Hi, I'm not sure who else is still here but I do feel obligated to finish this story now that AoT had reached its end. Unfortunately, I stopped writing due to heavy workload and some negative comments that kept trying to criticize my plot points, grammars, or character development. Since I wrote for free on my spare time, my only source of energy was people leaving nice comments and actually letting me know that they enjoyed my work - so I know that those hours I spent writing this story and thinking up the plot points don't go to waste down the drain.

However, a lot of you have been really sweet too, leaving me a lot of positive comments and DMs to give me strength to write again. You are the reason I came back here, and also because I want to give Eren and Mikasa a little piece of happiness outside of the endless misery they have been constantly thrown in while in the canon universe.

So, here goes the next chapter. I apologize if it doesn't make much sense for now - just keep reading, eventually the plots will come together.

Also yes, I have quickened the pace a bit in my ambition to finish up this story but still make it enjoyable for you.

Last Chapter: Eren was feeling horrified after the whole incident where he accidentally kiss Mikasa and ran away. Meanwhile, Mikasa was feeling confused at the turn of events and asked for Ayako's advice, who finally helped her to realize her feelings for Eren. Meanwhile, Armin and Ayako made progress with their investigation and rounded up a possible accomplice of Nanako's. On their way back home, Eren tried to apologize to Mikasa for what happened yesterday, but the girl just shrugged it off and said to him that she forgave him and indeed, some things were better left unsaid. Eren continued to apologize for his improper behavior and added that he was not sorry - and he'll do it in a more proper manner next time.

(I hear something shattering

It suddenly wakes me up)

Mikasa wasn't sure where she was. She stood on a tall wall overlooking a small, cramped town full of houses built strangely close, and looking strangely similar, to one another. They all looked small, modest, with grey stone walls and orange roofs glinting slightly under the afternoon sunlight. Just in the middle of the town, a river was flowing smoothly, gently until it ended on a large gate made from dark brown woods strengthened by iron. She cast her eyes doubtfully around the edges of the town. She had been here, she had seen this town several times before. This was in a dream – and for a moment she wondered how her senses were even aware that this was not the real world.

It had been a while since she had last seen this dream. She had not been here for several months. Why did she see this dream again… why now? Every time she saw that small, cramped town and the endless field of wilderness beyond the other side of the wall, she always wondered about the contrast. Why did people not live on the other side? Why were they all squeezed together on one side? The thick walls, and the sturdy gates… It seemed like they were protecting themselves from something – a kind of danger, some wild beasts perhaps, or some even greater peril. Though she tried her hardest to guess, she never knew the answer. She walked, and walked along the wall until her feet grew tired, but there was no end to it. The wall went on a full circle around that small town, and in the distance she could see it stretched out further into unknown territory. What could possibly lie out there?

"It is a world you never know of," said a voice, and she quickly turned around. Surprised, she saw someone approaching.

She remembered, yet again. Yes, this part of the dream always happened. She always met this person inside her dreams, though from the countless times she met him, she had never once seen his face clearly. It was always cast by a dark shadow.

"You are curious, right?" he asked again. Mikasa didn't answer, but the figure wasn't waiting for her response.

"Why don't we go on an adventure together? Beyond this wall, I mean." said that voice, and slowly, she began to recognize his familiar voice.

"Who are you?" she said, answering his question instead with another question. Frowning slightly, she added. "We always met here, but you never once told me who you are."

"Me?" said the voice, sounding somewhat amused. "I'm someone you know very well, Mikasa." She narrowed her eyes, recalling slightly, half with hesitation. Yes she knew his voice, this was the voice of somebody that had become very dear to her, somebody she was deeply grateful to, somebody she owed her life to.

"Eren…?" she said slowly. But the other voice was silent this time, neither confirming nor denying. Was that really him?

"What do you want?" she asked again. "What kind of adventure do you mean?"

"Oh, many things," the voice replied. "There are many things in the world outside, something greater than what you imagined. Don't you want to see it all?"

Mikasa was not sure how to answer. So instead, she asked another question.

"How… how do we go beyond this wall?"

"That's easy," the voice answered again. "First of all… let's start by taking one step off this wall right here."

"You mean we should jump… from here?" she asked hesitantly, looking at the ground, far down below. "We will die for sure."

"Not if you believe otherwise. The moment we step off here, we'll gain our wings," he said. She still couldn't see his face. But his voice… she couldn't be mistaken.

"The wings of freedom," he continued, his voice filled with longing. For a moment he paused, letting out a deep sigh. "So… what do you say?" he approached her and she could see him stretching his hand, asking her to take it. She desperately tried to have a look on his face, but the deep, dark shadow just wouldn't go away.

"Would you go with me on this endless adventure?"

Mikasa didn't remember what she did. She might have taken the boy's hand, or she didn't. What she remembered next was the vivid recollection of her bedroom ceiling as she blinked a few times, trying to regain her consciousness.

She had returned, she realized, immediately feeling strange. "Returned" was indeed a peculiar word to use to describe her situation. She observed the morning light shining through the window, and recalled what just happened. Some dreams left off lingering feelings long after she woke up, and this dream was one of those. It was real, way too real to be considered a dream. She felt like that was the reality instead and this was her dream – perhaps she just came out of the matrix or something. Perhaps that was her actual life there and this was not, in fact, her reality….

No, that can't be. She quickly brushed the thought off her minds immediately. How ridiculous. She still had curiosity about her recurring dreams, and that boy – of course, why did he always seem like he was so eager to go beyond the walls? What was there, really? What lie there in the unknown? And why – she was a bit annoyed at herself, why did she never see his face? Could it actually have been – and her heart suddenly beat a little bit faster at this thought – could it have been Eren?

It did sound like him, she recalled, with his curiosity over everything and how he never sat still at one place. If it really was Eren inside her dreams, then she wouldn't be surprised. Although the more important question was – now she felt her cheeks growing hot at this thought – why would she have recurring dreams of Eren Yeager?

She could almost hear him, almost see his satisfied grin as she tried to imagine his reaction had he known she had been dreaming about him repeatedly.

"You are having a dream of me, Mikasa? Really? And not once, but several times already? Wow… you must miss me so much, huh? You already see me everyday at school, but not that I mind… I mean, you can just be honest about it, you know?"

She flushed with embarrassment and decided that she would never, ever let him know this lest she would face his endless teasing. Groaning, she covered her face with her hands and let several minutes pass until it was finally a little over seven. Then she got up. It's the start of a new day.

(That sound is ringing again

Another crack forms on this frozen lake)

"What do you mean, you haven't done your homework yet?" Mikasa asked rather reproachfully to the boy walking beside him. "You had one week to do it."

Eren, who was walking alongside her, showed no apparent remorse. "What do I have you for–" he said humbly, "if not for copying homework?"

Mikasa gave him a glare, "Eren… I'm serious."

"And so I am," he said, now stopping in front of his shoe locker to exchange his pair of shoes for school slippers. "If you can be kind to lend me your homework during the first period, I'll copy it quickly and hand it back to you on the second."

"You do realize we'll be third graders soon, right? What if you don't pass the exams?"

"I can worry about that later," he grinned, and Mikasa sighed. She had known him too well. If Eren had made up his mind to do something, he would seriously pursue it to the point of obsessing over it – but if he didn't want to do something, there's no point persuading him. She gave up, and almost contemplated to lend him her homework, when something crossed her minds.

"Shoot," said Mikasa as she stopped dead in her tracks. The clock pointed at twenty minutes to nine and she suddenly remembered. The vandalism on her desk that had been there every morning! She was quite distracted with her dreams today that she didn't even remember to come to school early. She should hurry up and erase it soon.

Determined not to waste any seconds, she jerked forward to climb the stairs in a sudden movement that surprised Eren. The boy let out a confused yell that she ignored, but in her hurry, she stumbled on the first stair step and almost fell face down flat. Mikasa let out a surprised shriek – she was well prepared for the impact but instead of the hard stone staircase, she felt a pair of sturdy hands grabbing her at the last moment. Her body dangling awkwardly on the air, her face a few inches from hitting the floor, she paused to recall the turn of events. What happened? Confused, she turned around and saw Eren's face up close.

"Careful there," he said, this time it was his turn to use that reprimanding tone on her. It was him who caught her before she landed on the floor in a painful crash. "Why are you in such a hurry, anyway?"

"Sorry," she said, not exactly answering his question. She was thankful that he caught her right on time, saved her a few bruises and a hard fall. But she couldn't bring herself to thank him yet. Her head spun and her breath seemed to have left her chest. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, she realized that he had been holding her really close. His arms were practically wrapped around her, and their bodies were pressed together tightly. This was as close as they'd ever been after that whole i-didn't mean-the-kiss incident outside of the convenience store just two days back.

And suddenly, the memories sprang from the back of her brain to the very top of her mind.

"You… you can let me go now," she said. Her heart was beating ridiculously out of control that she almost feared he could feel it through her back.

"Oh," it took a few moments for Eren to realize the lack of personal space between them. And when it finally dawned on him – he let off his arms so suddenly he almost dropped her to the floor again.

"Sorry!" he said, as he saw her stumbling to regain her balance. "Sorry – didn't mean to…"

"Nevermind," said Mikasa, holding on to the stairs railing now to catch her balance. This morning just began but she seemed like she had been through a whole day's worth of event. Taking in a deep breath, she steadied herself and asked with a small voice, not quite ready to meet his eyes.

"Um… shall we go upstairs?"

"Yeah," Eren said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Yeah… let's go."

Mikasa didn't find the artful graffiti on her desk this morning. Instead, it was something worse. She found a tall vase made of see-through glass filled with flowers sitting on top of her empty desk. She stopped on the spot when she saw them. Beside her, she could sense Eren doing the same, he seemed to be tensing. And she knew why.

Flowers on top of someone's desk was not a friendly gesture at all. Instead, it was a cruel, more horrible insult. When a student passed away, people put flowers on their desk at least until 49 days after their death. It was a tradition to honor the dead in Japanese Shintoism. She understood immediately what people wanted to say by putting it on her desk.

They wanted her dead and gone. Or this was their way of saying that they thought of her as dead already. Maybe because she wasn't giving much attention to their pranks before, but surely, these bullying were getting worse. She clenched her fists. She knew everyone was watching her now, tense with anticipation, wanting to see her reaction. She wanted to say something, do something, scream her anger – but she didn't want to give them the satisfaction. Just then when she still stood frozen on the spot, her mind empty – she felt someone moving beside her. A reassuring hand was put on her shoulder. She looked up to see Eren's face. The boy wasn't looking at her. Instead, he stared straight, but there was a certain strength in his fingers that seemed to tell her something he didn't say in words.

Don't worry. I got this.

With a slight glance to Mikasa, and a hint of furtive smile – Eren moved past her to grab the flower vase from the table. And suddenly, Mikasa realized in horror, that the class seemed to have grown more silent. She watched, as though in slow motion, Eren making his way to the front of the classroom, flower vase in hand, every step he made reverberated strangely through her ears. After what felt like eternity for her, the boy finally reached the teacher's table, and without any warning, slammed the flower vase on top of it. Surely enough, it warranted everyone's attention on him.

"Whoever coward did this," Eren managed to control his voice to sound as casually as he could, but no one would be foolish enough to skip the dangerous undertone, "If I ever caught you… the lots of you – I promise you will know exactly why I was expelled from my previous school." His emerald green eyes were glinting with a serious kind of madness. Mikasa recognized that look immediately. It was the look of anger and disgust he used to give her when he still misunderstood the nature of her business, when he still thought she was in an abusive relationship and she was too cowardly to break it off. She had seen this so many times, and yet – this time he made her shudder a bit. It wasn't just because of his words that contained thinly veiled threat, or the cold wrath that seemed to be emanating from him as he stood in front of the whole class, challenging them. No, it's because – different from those times in the past when they used to argue – she could sense a bit of madness now, much like a murderous intent. As much as Eren used to be angry at her back then, the root of his anger was pain. But now, it was different. There was no pain this time – just a desire to hurt others, for revenge. For once, Mikasa knew that Eren Yeager meant serious business, and if he ever caught the perpetrators behind this bullying incident, he would make sure they receive as much pain as they had done to her – or possibly even more.

That was the first time Eren ever displayed his obsession out in the open, and needless to say – the classroom atmosphere turned very cold at his words. Here and there Mikasa saw students who grew a bit pale, some looked guilty, some looked afraid and more anxious than others. Eren didn't seem to mind. "Let me repeat in case you are not clear," he said in an aura of casual ignorance. He didn't seem to realize the damage he just did with his open threat, or even if he did – he didn't care.

"Leave Mikasa alone, or else…," he paused. "You will pay."

He ended his speech curtly and turned to leave the teacher's table. Mikasa still froze on the spot when he came back down the aisle to his own table behind her. He still looked angry, but he grinned a little when he saw her. "Unless you want us to stand here all day," he said, "Maybe you should move a little so I can get to my seat."

Mikasa finally found his voice, "Eren…," she was just about to start, but he cut her.

"Later," he said, indicating with his chin to Mr. Levi's silhouette outside the classroom. "Teacher's coming."

(Even in my momentary dreams

The illusions that torture me are still the same)

For one, Mikasa knew that she really had to thank Eren. After he made such a blatant threat in front of the class – not one person dared to lie a finger on her. They still gave her the silent treatment of course, but Mikasa was used to it by now. Most importantly for her, there were no longer any planned vandalisms and her things had stopped disappearing mysteriously. Eren kept telling her that this would have stopped sooner had she taken her own actions against them earlier, and Mikasa admitted that he was right, though she was not sure that his way – implicitly threatening to use violence – was the right thing to do.

"It did get them out of the way," he shrugged, when they brushed over this topic one day.

"We were lucky not one of them ran complaining to the teacher," Mikasa reminded him. "You really could be expelled."

"I don't care," said Eren, and it seemed like he really didn't give it much thought. "Look here – if you wanted to endure their bullshit for longer… that's fine with me – but honestly I haven't got such patience against those cowardly losers. They're the kind of people I hate the most. If you hurt someone, you should be prepared to be hurt back. An eye for an eye. That's fair, if you ask me."

Mikasa knew how hard-headed Eren could be when it's related to his opinions, so she didn't say anything further. And though she still partly disagreed with his way – she did owe it to him for stopping the bullying. Another side of her was also really curious at Eren's threat – what did this boy do exactly, to get him expelled? Was it something that horrible? Was he capable of doing such a thing? Sometimes there was a part of her that was quite unsure about Eren – she thought she knew him, but how well did she know him? Could there be a completely different side to him other than this person she now regarded warmly at heart? Will her opinion of him change once she knew of his past?

Mikasa's confusion went on for several days without having anything for answers. Instead, she grew more confused by Eren's behavior.

Unsurprisingly, Ayako was the one who pointed it out first.

"So… did I miss the good news or anything?" she threw the question at Mikasa one day at lunch, who shot her a questioning glance over her half-bitten sandwich.

"What?" Mikasa asked back, confused.

"Why is Yeager acting like that to you?"

"Like what?"

"Like a boyfriend."

Mikasa burst out laughing. Only when realizing that her friend did not laugh along with her – did she know that Ayako was being serious.

"What do you mean – like a boyfriend?" she asked inquisitively and Ayako threw her a look that, once again was a mixture of pity and amusement at Mikasa's own inexperience toward boys.

"For once, he's very protective of you," Ayako started, "I heard all about that love confession in front of the class, by the way."

Mikasa paused to think. "If you're referring to that time where he made everyone in class cowered in fear for their own dear lives… I think you are mistaken," she replied calmly. "What Eren did was out of his frustration for dealing with – quote and quote – those cowardly losers."

"The very own people who bullied you," Ayako nodded in amusement. "He made the bullying stop, didn't he? Told the whole class they'd face his wrath if they dared to hurt you."

"You made it sound very dramatic," said Mikasa gloomily. "I was thankful for him but – Eren's always like that. I don't think that was because of me."

"Oh come on, Mikasa!" Ayako slightly jumped up and down on her seat in frustration. "Don't you realize it?" her pair of brown eyes were searching Mikasa now – looking for any signs that the other girl might have seen just exactly what she did, but all she got was more looks of confusion from her best friend. Ayako gave out a tired sigh in the end.

"I don't know if you are thick or just inexperienced," said Ayako. "Yeager's throwing such straight balls and here you are – not even catching his most obvious signal."

Mikasa blinked a few times.

"Explain," she said finally.

"Well for one," she started, "Isn't Yeager more… touchy around you recently?"

Mikasa frowned. "He's always been flirting around and saying all kind of nonsense since the first day he arrived at this school, I don't see how this is any different."

"Mikasa," said the other girl, her tone was close to exasperation. "Boys don't just put their hand around some random girl's waist or shoulder, or play with their hair, or give them pats on the head if they didn't really, REALLY like the girl. Besides, I totally heard from a reliable source – who happened to see both of you hugging near the staircase one morning before the bell rang. Pretty bold move if you ask me."

"That –" Mikasa knew exactly what her friend meant, but she couldn't help herself from turning scarlet. "That was an accident. I was about to fall, and he caught me."

Why did it feel like she was making excuses when she was telling the truth?

"STILL," Ayako insisted. "Did you ever see how Yeager looked at you? Or I think," she gave a deep sigh. "You never actually realized… how desperately he is holding himself back, do you?"

Mikasa grew silent at this question. She had no idea what Ayako meant at all. Bit by bit, she pondered on her friend's inquiry until she finally found a speck of light. Then she started slowly.

"If you meant – after the time we, I mean he… kissed me and…"

"Did he say nothing to you after that?" Ayako interrupted, and Mikasa grew even more scarlet.

"He apologized," she mumbled, not meeting her best friend's eyes.

"And?"

"And…," she was going to say and he promised to do it properly next time, but Mikasa just couldn't bring herself to say it. She was too embarrassed to say it out loud. Her words stuck on her throat and she quickly evaded the topic.

"Nothing," she said. "Eren said nothing else."

Ayako looked unconvinced, and Mikasa knew she pretty much could tell that she was lying. Even Mikasa wasn't convinced at her own words.

"Fine," said Ayako, sounding resigned. "But, mark my words," she crossed her arms, suddenly looking very stern. "Next time you are around Yeager, be more attentive to his signs, okay?"

"Signs?" Mikasa started, "What kind of –" but Ayako interrupted.

"Trust me on this," she said. Mikasa was going to argue further, but the bell rang in the distance, marking the end of lunch period. The two girls were silent for a moment.

"I'm going to the bathroom for a bit," said Ayako, slightly after the bell. Then she stood up and left the table without waiting for Mikasa, leaving the other girl in even greater state of confusion than before.

(Tell me, if my voice is fake

Should I have not thrown myself away?)

If only Mikasa could hear the conversation between the drama club members that afternoon in between their club practice, she would have been very interested.

"They are definitely dating – that Yeager boy and Ackerman," Ymir's loud voice stung sharply on Jean's ears – making his heart sink. She was standing a few meters away from him, painting the sky-blue backdrop to be used on their next performance, her large paint brush in hand, blue paints dropping needlessly from the end of the brush to the large, transparent plastic cover on the floor.

"Did you see how stupid Yeager behaved around her lately? He's totally into her. Or into something inside her pants, I don't know. Heard he's got quite the reputation."

"Ymir, that's mean," Historia interrupted. She was standing beside her tall friend, painting large, white clouds instead. "What's wrong if they start dating, anyway? Ackerman hasn't got anyone to date for ages… it's good that she found someone."

"My dear Christa –,"

"Call me Historia, please – you know Christa is my stage name."

"Historia dear," Ymir corrected, "Of course it isn't my business who Ackerman is dating with – but you might be interested to know that last week I mistakenly went into their empty classroom – thinking that it was my own, and I found them there, all lovey-dovey." Historia paused to look up at her taller friend, her large blue eyes were sparkling with curiosity.

"What were they doing?" she asked, and Ymir burst out laughing at the question.

"What else do you think a couple of lovebirds are supposed to be doing when they're alone? All sorts of things, Historia dear… and anyway…," Ymir dunked her paintbrush harshly to her can of blue paints, causing the contents to splatter everywhere. "Don't you remember those posters that caused so much stirs a while back? Apparently they're living together now. Or they used to live together. I wonder how they're not expelled."

Historia hesitated.

"No one could confirm if those rumors were true," she reminded Ymir. "But Ackerman is such a brilliant student, isn't she? She's the favorite of many teachers…"

"Fat chance," Ymir sneered, now painting the backdrop in large, crude strokes of blue paint. "Yeah that must be why… that Ackerman's too good to be expelled… And anyway, you reckon they've slept together as well?"

"If you paint just as much as you're talking," said someone behind them with a fierce, unpleasant tone, "You might have done more than just half a side of the canvas, Ymir."

Ymir let out a mocking grin, "Ah, Ishijima –" she said, pining her gaze to the girl who just arrived on the scene, her hands full of old costumes that she had just altered or fixed for their next performance. "I don't recall anyone here asking you to join in our conversation."

"Gossiping about someone behind her back, what a noble act, Ymir," said Ayako, a look of disdain clear on her face.

"All gossips are based on facts," Ymir shrugged. "Anyway, we know just how chummy you are with both Ackerman and Yeager… so obviously you'd defend them to the death. Some very strong loyalty, if you ask me."

Just as fight was about to break out between Ymir and Ayako, Jean carefully slipped out to the back stage. That was enough for him. He didn't need to hear those gossips to make things worse… It's not like he didn't see it for himself – that Yeager boy and Mikasa, growing nearer day by day… her gestures, her smile when she saw him. From the moment the transfer student set step in this school, Jean was gradually fighting on the losing side. Jean wasn't blind – that Yeager boy likes her, just like any other straight boy in school, he must have found Mikasa pretty, but… the most heart-breaking part for Jean was that Yeager was the only one Mikasa ever truly responded with the same kind of affection.

And now the wheels have turned, and it seemed like there was no stopping it. Bitterly, Jean headed to the locker room. He couldn't endure practice today. He'll go home early and make his excuses to Marco tomorrow. Marco would have to understand.

"Jean…," a soft voice suddenly spoke beside him. He blinked. And that was when he realized he was not alone in the locker room. Nanako stood just a few steps behind him, looking at him with a silent type of concern.

"Oh," said Jean, just halfway out of his mind. "Hello, Toda."

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking worried.

"Yeah… not really," said Jean reluctantly. "I'm going home early today."

"Do you…," Nanako seemed hesitant to ask. "Do you need… anything?"

Jean shook his head. "I'll be fine tomorrow, thank you," he said, forcing a smile and closing his locker door. Just as he was about to exit the locker room, Nanako said again from behind him.

"I know how it feels."

This was so sudden that Jean immediately halted. Turning in confusion, she faced Nanako, who was now looking strangely at him – as though she didn't want him to go.

"I know how it feels when the one you love doesn't return the feelings," she explained, the edges of her lips were quivering slightly. Jean didn't know what to say. For a few long moments, he just stood there looking at her. Then, the girl opened her mouth again.

"Do you – do you at least mind if I accompany you to the station?" Jean looked down to the pair of dark brown eyes pleading at him.

"Maybe," he said, after a few moments of contemplation. "Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea."

(Did I lose myself?

Or did I gain you?)

Mikasa had never realized how the sight of setting sun could be so endearing.

She also never expected how moments of wilderness could lead to such moments of tenderness, or the other way around.

Either way, it all started with him. Now that she thought about it carefully, all the big events in her life was almost always related to him.

They were both alone in the empty sports hall that afternoon after school, on the mezzanine part where audience used to sit down when watching various sports games – from basketball to badminton to volleyball – played on the fields down below. None of the sport clubs were using the fields for practice today, it was the basketball team's schedule, but they had a practice match in a rival school. Eren, who had learned about the schedule, suddenly decided that a round of ball games was a good idea – particularly because he was having too much energy and nothing to do. So Mikasa accompanied him.

Looking at the orange rays of the setting sun, and down to the wooden polished floor glittering slightly under the sun, she suddenly remembered something.

"I had this dream a while back," she said at the sound of approaching footsteps behind her, which she knew belong to Eren. "There was… a small town. A very small town protected by giant walls. I was standing on top of the wall. But strangely, though one side of the wall was cramped full with these small houses, the other side of the wall was a land of vast wilderness with no living beings in sight. And then someone came and approached me, and they said…"

"Do you want to know what's on the other side of the walls…?"

Mikasa's heart froze. For a moment, she thought she didn't hear it correctly. Or maybe, this was still inside one of those dreams.

Slowly, slowly, she turned to face him. His face was bearing the same resemblance of surprise that she would have seen on her own face.

"You…," she said, slowly. She forced herself to swallow, her heart beating faster than ever. "Did you…?" But she couldn't finish her sentence. Her words faltered, as she pondered his face, looking for answers to her unspoken question.

Did he also see the same dream?

Eren, meanwhile, stood at his spot with the same aghast look on his face. Then, he started, in a very low voice, barely more audible than a whisper.

"I have seen that town too."

Before she knew it she had started toward him. She might have forgotten how strong she was – she seized his upper arms and pulled him closer with all her might, ignoring his surprised gasp, her pair of stormy grey eyes wide with disbelief.

"You are not lying?" she affirmed. "What – what did you see?"

This was too curious, too bizarre to be called a coincidence. They had both seen the same dreams – the same visions. She had not breathed even a word of these strange, recurring dreams to anyone, and the fact that Eren uttered such words precisely like the boy inside her dreams … he must have seen them too.

"There was this strange girl wearing a long white dress. I couldn't see her face," Eren started. "She was wandering alone on top of the walls, looking confused and lost. So I asked her if she wanted to know what was there… beyond the walls."

"And did you – did you know?" asked Mikasa. "What is out there?"

Eren took a few moments to look closely at her face before replying, "I don't know," he said slowly. "Beyond those walls were some great danger. But I do know – that I wanted to explore them. I wanted to find out." He frowned. "Strangely, that small town… I know I'd never been there – there was probably no place like such that I have visited on my whole life, but that town… looked…"

"Familiar," he and Mikasa finished the sentence together. They looked at each other. There was a strange lump in Mikasa's throat, and a rising odd sensation was gripping her stomach. What kind of nonsense was this? Mikasa was never one to believe in superstition, but here she was, reminiscing about a dream she never shared to anyone else – to the boy who happened to see the same dream.

"I must have gone mad," she sighed, after a while. Her head hurt a little, probably from too much shock and information overload. "That – that must be the only plausible explanation."

"Yeah, and I think you're driving me mad too," said Eren, trying not to sound too agitated.

"Sorry," she started. "It's just – it's hard to believe."

"I mean not that," Eren said. He sounded like he was speaking under considerable amount of restraint, that Mikasa raised her eyebrows. "I mean it's the fact that we're both alone here, and you're gripping me so close I could feel your –" he managed to stop before he said the word boobs, instead flicking his glances down below, to the inviting sight of those lovely swell beneath her shirt, and decided to change his wordings before he said anything improper that might upset her. "Anyway – I think you're really overestimating my ability to control myself, so unless you want me to do something stupid or incredibly dangerous… I suggest you let me go."

"Oh." Now that she knew what he meant, her face was boiling scarlet. His words seemed to have thrown her into the present. But she didn't loosen her grip. She didn't let him go. She continued clutching his upper arm and held him closely. Eren was growing more agitated by the second. If there was anything like mental torture, this was most likely it. It was agonizing, seconds passed as he stood there like a statue, her body pressed close against his – so warm, so reachable. But he must not, he had sworn to himself he must not…

"But Eren," she started, her soft voice a contrast to his glaring pain. "You made a promise, didn't you? You said next time you'd do it properly."

Eren froze. For a moment he thought his ears were malfunctioning.

She can't be serious.

"Stop joking," he said, barely keeping his voice from showing how panicked he was inside. "You don't know what you're saying, what I would do if I –"

"I'm not joking," she said firmly. She brought up her eyes to look at him, meeting his eyes in a kind of deviant determination. He was too stunned for words.

"You serious?" he asked in a low voice, his eyes searching her for any kind of hesitation. Any kind of sign to stop him – just one sign and he'd pull himself back, he'd walk away and pretend this didn't happen…

But she only gave a small nod. And it was all he needed as permission.

"Then… I'm not going to hold back."

It started off slowly. His lips met hers in the softest manner – it was as if he was trying to gauge her reaction, to not to destroy the delicate balance that had been carefully built between them. This time she wasn't taken by surprise, this time she was ready for him. She kissed him back – she was surprised at how much she loved this – she grew more passionate, her hands circling his neck, his hands on her hips. He parted her lips slowly, and she let out a sigh. Their lips were locked together, their tongues met one another – circling, swirling, and she pressed the kiss deeper. She wanted to taste more – more of him, and he wanted to give her everything. He couldn't believe it – she was here, inside his arms, and he was kissing her. They continued exploring each other, no words needed, no thoughts inside their heads, merely letting their desire, the most primal of their instincts guide them together. Shortly after, they paused for breath, he opened his eyes, and finally they had a moment to look at one another.

She was slightly panting. He too, was breathing heavily. Six months, almost seven – after they had known each other. And still Eren felt like this was the prettiest that he had ever seen her.

"Do you mind if we go home a little late?" he asked, and she gave a faint smile. Not waiting for her answer, he pushed her toward the wall, safely locking her in the space between the walls and his own body, caging her on the other side of his arms, and they continued to kiss once more. Soft kisses that grew hungrier, more passionate in just a matter of seconds. He was – admittedly, hungry for her – perhaps he'd been craving this ever since he met her. But most surprisingly for him, was how much she seemed to want him, too. This kiss was different, when their lips met, it's not like anything on the blind dates, nothing like what he had on the flings. There was a part of his soul that was satisfied with this kiss, instead of merely physical pleasure.

He broke off the kiss, pressed a string of kisses down her neck, and she let out a soft moan, her fingers entangled in his hair. He really hoped no one would walk in at the moment – doing it in public place was a risky thing, but the school was nearly deserted, and besides, it gave him an extra rush of adrenaline. His heart pumping louder, he traced his lips down to her exposed neckline beneath her unbuttoned collar, and slowly, beneath her shuddering breaths, doubts were beginning to form on his mind. He didn't quite know how far he should go – Mikasa was not too experienced with this, perhaps he shouldn't shock her…

Mikasa seemed to have sensed his hesitation. Her chest rose and fell with anticipation. To be honest, Eren was sorely tempted to explore her body beyond the unbuttoned collar, but suddenly his mind was beginning to speak sense. He stopped, and pulled away to look at her. She stood there in front of him, her hair messy, her shirt rumpled. And on her face, he could see an unmistakable speck of relief.

"That was too much," he admitted, rather embarrassed at himself. She shook her head wordlessly. "I gave you permission," she said, sounding like she was addressing herself rather than him.

"Even so, this hard wooden floor isn't a comfortable place to do it properly," he grinned, and she blushed.

"At least," she paused, her face still a hue of scarlet. "At least the kiss was more than proper."

"Yeah sure," he replied, grinning even wider, "seeing just how much you enjoyed it…" this earned him a slap on his upper arm, and a glare from her, though she couldn't stop herself from being embarrassed at the same time.

"I'm joking," he said, half feeling amused at her reaction. Still smiling, he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her delicate waistline before bending down and again, interlocked their lips for another round of long, heated kiss.

They went down half an hour later – it was close to 5.30 and the sky was beginning to get darker. Mikasa desperately tried to make herself look more presentable – thankfully the blazer hid any signs of her crumpled shirt, but there was no way to check herself in the mirror so she asked Eren to check her, tidied up their hair, and tried not too look too guilty should they ever run into any of the school staff.

They crossed the school front gate and out toward the station, each not saying anything to the other. They were too busy making out in the school gymnasium earlier, but now that the reality finally dawned on her – the awkwardness of this situation just sank in. Though it didn't make sense, Mikasa almost felt like she just committed a felony. That's how big this first step was for her, a straight-A student who never broke any school rules, and who, most importantly, would never have thought that she would be making out in the school gymnasium with the new transfer student just a little over six months ago. She glanced sideways, and, surely enough – just like any other times when she was constantly worked up – Eren remained calm. What a contrast from earlier inside the gym, when he was the one panicking and she calmly reminded him of his promise.

Her train arrived first. She made her way down to her platform. Just before she left, she heard his voice calling her.

"Mikasa!"

She turned around. And there he was, looking really handsome with his emerald green eyes glinting in satisfaction, and a wide, mischievous smile on his face.

"I fulfilled my promise, didn't I? There are many more where that came from, you know."

She broke out in a smile. Contemplating for a few seconds, she opened her mouth to speak.

"I'll be waiting," she said playfully.

And with that, she disappeared out of his sight, down to her train platform, her steps as light as a feather's.

So... yeah. Eren fulfilled his promise.

About time for them to start kissing for real, right?

[jckelly]

updated intro / 25/09/20

Is that JACK FIELDING? Wow, they do look a lot like VAN MCCANN. I hear HE is an NINETEEN year old FRESHMEN who are studying AEROSPACE ENGINEERING  at Luxor University. Word is they are an ARISTOCRAT student. You should watch out because they can be PHILOPHOBIC and INSINCERE, but on the bright side they can also be WITTY and IMAGINATIVE. Ultimately, you’ll get to see it all for yourself. [YUNI, 20, GMT, SHE/HER]

hello to anyone who has yet 2 be cursed w my presence in their dms, i am yuni and this is  an updated intro for my demon boi jack! this one is a lilll bit more in depth but not to worry there is a tl;dr at the end ion expect u to read this. feel free to dm me if you would like to plot!

01: BASIC INFORMATION

Full Name: Jackson Noel Fielding (previously Kelly; recently changed)

Nicknames: Jack - he dislikes the use of his full first name, and only really answers to Jack, unless joking around with Caitriona. 

Date Of Birth: December 4, 2001 (currently aged 19)

Zodiac: Sagittarius sun, Leo ascendant, and Aries moon. 

Place Of Birth: Northern General Hospital, Sheffield, South Yorkshire, England. 

Nationality: Dual UK and US citizenship; he was born and raised in England so was a UK citizen from birth, and acquired US citizenship through his American adopted mother after being formally adopted in 2017. 

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual 

Course: Aerospace Engineering (Freshman)

02: PHYSICAL

Faceclaim: Van McCann 

Voiceclaim: Also Van McCann (but w ... not a Welsh accent LOL think Northern)

Ethnicity: White (English, Irish, Scottish)

Height: 173cm (5′8)

Weight: 52kg (115lbs) / BMI 17.4

Eye Colour: Blue

Hair Colour: Brown

Distinctive Features: Freckles (many), ear piercings (one hoop in his left ear), scars on his wrists which he hides with long sleeved shirts. 

Clothing Preference: Jack really only wears black, or something close to black like grey. He usually opts for simple clothes, just jeans and long sleeved shirts, and beat up black converse. His Sheffield United hoodie makes an appearance more often than not, because he has a ridiculous amount of hometown pride. 

03: PERSONALITY

Overview

Positive Traits: Witty, imaginative, perseverant, passionate

Negative Traits: Philophobic, disloyal, insincere, callous

MBTI: ENTP

Religious Beliefs: Atheist 

Description

The first side most people see of Jack is the side he wants you to see. A total asshole. It’s not an exaggeration - he’s pretty much infamous for flirting with everyone, dating anyone and as a serial cheater. He’ll actively try to worm his way into your life, and then just when you start to care, he does something to hurt you. He’s strangely persistent, probably helping him to push people even further, until they snap. There is nothing which satisfies him more than managing to wind people up to the extreme, get them to the point where they give up. Adopted parents, friends, nobody is immune to this side - he even tries it on the people he genuinely cares about, as if just to see if he’ll still be able to push them away.

The second side, which most people don’t see, is that at heart Jack is a kid. He’s the type of person to ask if owls have ears at 3am, or get some childlike joy out of dumb jokes. Of course, this is the side nobody but a very small number of people see. And even if you do see it, it never lasts long. He keeps his true personality under wraps even amongst those he does like, and it only slips out if he’s extremely comfortable with you. Otherwise, he’ll go straight back to being a sarcastic, flirty piece of shit.

04: PAST

Biography: 

Jackson Kelly was born in a council estate in Sheffield, South Yorkshire, in the UK. His life prior to adoption is not something he routinely talks about, but that’s mostly because he’d rather not give people reasons to pity him: his mother, 15 when she gave birth to him, was a drug addict; he has no idea who his birth father is or was, and no inclination to find out. Jack’s first ten years of life pretty much fell into the same cycle: get put into foster care, his mother would get clean and take him back, and then the cycle would repeat. But when the cycle ended when he was ten, and he was removed from his mother’s care for good, he wasn’t ready for it to end yet.

Sure, she wasn’t the best parent. But she was his mother. Jack quickly developed a reputation for running away, always found back at the same place. Foster parent after foster parent always ended up returning him, unable to cope with his rebellious tendencies and the constant hunt for him after he had run. As he aged, he only became better at avoiding being found. It practically became a game to him, a way for him to entertain himself. So when a wealthy American heiress and her British CEO husband decided that  of all people, they wanted to foster a now thirteen year old Jack, social workers almost wanted to ask if they’d misspoke. (Jack had assumed it was a practical joke.)

Claire and George, his new “parents,” were patient. They said he didn’t have to call them mum or dad, that even after they officially adopted him two years later he could keep his own surname, that they just wanted him to be happy. They moved him to a better school, got a private tutor to make up for lost time, tried to take an interest in his favourite things. But that wasn’t enough for Jack. Eventually, the situation resulted in drastic measures: a rainy afternoon with a social worker being told that Claire wanted to move the family to her birthplace of New York, and send Jack to the school she had attended many years prior. A fresh start would be better for him, they said. As if Jack didn’t know the real reason. He couldn’t run away if he was thousands of miles away.

And that was how a fifteen year old Jack made his way to Carnifex, with absolutely no change to his desire to wreak havoc or to his somewhat disturbing attitude towards other people. Therapists paid for by his adopted parents might say he was pushing people away to manifest emotions about neglect in early life; Jack would just say that he was keeping things interesting. Either way, the next couple years of his life escaped past him, and before he knew it he was in a school office, being told that his birth mother had died.

Obviously, Claire and George freaked, as if he would do anything. Pulled him out of school for a month, flew him back to England for the funeral, and practically wrapped Jack in bubble wrap like he was a baby or something. All he wanted to do was go back to school, ignore the guilt he felt in his stomach for letting them take him away, and go back to what he did best.

Timeline: 

December 4 2001 - Jackson Noel Kelly is born in Sheffield.

2005 - Jack is removed from his mother’s care for the first time. He is frequently removed from her care and then placed back in it for the next seven years of his life. 

2012 - Jack is removed from his mother’s custody permanently and placed in a temporary foster home. He bounces through foster homes for the next few years, including one where he meets Caitriona and becomes close with her. 

2014 - Jack is fostered by Claire and George. He resists any attempt for them to get close to him, and continues to act out. 

December 2016 - Jack is legally adopted by Claire and George, acquiring US citizenship, although he does not change his surname. 

January 2017 - Jack attempts suicide. He is placed in therapy and plans are made for his relocation to the US. 

March 2017 - Claire and George move back to America, taking Jack with them. He begins attending Carnifex. He continues to visit the UK regularly to visit his birth mother, who he keeps in contact with. 

April 2020 - Jack’s birth mother dies. He immediately disappears from school for a month, without telling anyone where he went. 

May 2020 - Jack returns to Luxor. It’s later accidentally blurted out mid fight with Zander that his mother is dead. 

June 2020 - Jack graduates and Leo tells the school Jack attempted suicide. 

September 2020 - Jack legally changes his surname from his birth name - Kelly - to his adopted parents surname, Fielding. 

December 2020 - Zander and Ches spread posters around claiming that Jack is HIV positive and gave it to Balo. They don’t provide any proof for this allegation, and Jack continues to deny it.

(These are the events ur character would probs vaguely know about!!! Anything else is personal info so they wouldn’t know unless Jack explicitly told them. Feel free to ask me if you’re ever unsure if something is ic knowledge or not!) 

05: OTHER TRIVIA

- He has a fairly strong Yorkshire accent which is obviously something other characters would likely notice when interacting with him. So if he uses words you don’t know it’s safe to assume he’s just being his dumb British self so you are free to have your character question the meaning/not know. (LMK if you’re unsure tho!)

- His favourite band is Oasis (closely followed by Arctic Monkeys), favourite film is Fight Club,  go to drink is either a double vodka coke or a pint of Heineken, and his favourite place is Leadmill in Sheffield because it’s where he’s seen some bands (and fucked girls in the bathroom. Such a romantic.)

- Dyslexic, but if you mention it Jack will fight you, although it’s partially why he leans more toward math based subjects where his spelling ability is irrelevant. 

- Notoriously has a thing for redheads, although that doesn’t prevent him from being crude and sexual towards anyone he happens to meet or interact with.

- Chain smokes anything he can get his ratty little hands on (cigarettes, weed, meh) so expect him to smell of ciggies 24/7. 

- Diehard supporter of Sheffield United and insists there is no better football team even though they really suck

- Weetabix, Weetabix, Weetabix 

06: NOTABLE CONNECTIONS

Within Luxor:

- Friendships: Caitriona, Balo, Avery, Zai, Oakley, Lennon

- Former Relationships: Oakley Prescott 

- Current Relationship: Juliet McCoy

NPCS

- Claire Richardson Fielding & George Fielding: Jack’s adopted parents, who just want to love him despite him being terrible to them. 

- Lauren Kelly: His birth mother, who he misses a lot. 

- Violet Richardson: Claire’s mother, who for some reason adores Jack and considers him her favourite grandchild. Meaning Jack will probably inherit everything when she dies, although he doesn’t really think about that. 

- Emily French: His ex girlfriend from back home, also known as the only girl who Jack truly cared about before Juliet. She broke up with Jack for being too toxic, which although fair, fucked him up for a little bit. Not that he’d admit it. 

07: CONNECTION IDEAS/WCS

Exes (Lots)

Jack has a habit of dating people, dropping them as soon as feelings get involved, cheating on them, and generally being an asshole. So if you want an ex for your muse… yeah.

Enemies

Again, he tends to happily mess with as many people as he possibly can. So he’s probably gotten on the wrong side of at least a couple people.

Friends (fake or real)

Like when he dates, he tends to get close to people before ditching them or screwing with them. So people who think they’re his friends but who aren’t really as close as they think are very welcome. I’m also down to have a couple people who can be the few he genuinely cares about.

08: TL;DR

If you already knew Jack at Luxor:

Little has changed! He’s the same manipulative dick as ever except that he has legally changed his surname. Your characters are tots fine to comment on the change, it’s not a secret or anything. 

If this is your unfortunate first experience with Jack: 

Jack is manipulative, crude, outright insulting, and nasty. He enjoys nothing more than messing with people, and often acts friendly initially just to hurt you later. He is British, adopted, and I call him rat man. 

[bigskydreaming]

I really encourage people who have legitimate gripes with something I say or express on here to like.....either just DM, @ me directly or if you’re going to pop into my inbox to debate something with me, like, do so off anon, even if you ask that I don’t publish your ask and just respond to you in private. I always abide by that if people ask me to do that, and I’m 10000x more likely to treat your complaint or disagreement with dignity even if I completely disagree with it, than like....if you go on anon with it. 

Because dunno if you’ve noticed, lol, but there’s kinda a tendency with people who pick fights with me on anon or who @ me in general with some form of “LOL I can’t believe you’re so dumb as to believe this thing [that you don’t actually believe or else is not at all actually what I’m framing it as being],” to like.....only really do so in an attempt to trip me up, expose me as a hypocrite or pull some kind of ‘Gotcha!’ So, realistically, it just is not possible for me to give most anons who disagree with me the benefit of the doubt or for me to assume they’re at least coming from a place of actual honest disagreement rather than just....playing games, which I fucking despise and I refuse to respond to with respect. 

I sound ridiculous in nine out of ten of my over the top responses to people giving me shit, because of...deliberate intent on my part. *Shrugs* Because I personally consider it to be extremely ridiculous, how often I have people trying to poke holes in things I say, by.....poking at stuff I never even say, lol. 

I don’t actually always believe I’m right about everything, but I fully understand how my tone can convey that I do think that in a lot of these back-and-forths, because.....the one thing I do pretty much always think I’m right about is what it is I’m actually saying or believe. And thus, I really do not care for people trying to tell me I said otherwise, when I have a looooot of proof to point to how even when I’m being like, King Ridiculous in how I say or phrase something....nobody ever seems to have trouble comprehending my points on pretty much any topic across the board......until it happens to be a point I make on a matter they take issue with.

So just a general PSA, do with it what you will, but like. I’m just saying: 

I know I’m contentious, and I don’t actually want people to just automatically 100% take everything I say as fact or just never disagree with me, since that’s like....the polar opposite of pretty much my entire belief system or view of life and how to go through it lol. 

Buuuuut it honestly is exhausting constantly being hit up by people in bad faith, and who prove over and over again that they are perfectly comfortable saying or doing anything with no loyalty to even their own arguments, as long as it nets them a ‘win’ in arguing with me for the sake of arguing or whatever the fuck their motivation might be, I honestly do not care, lol. And I’m just......long past assuming that someone who is approaching me on anon to argue or contest something I’ve said or a position I’ve taken, is doing so in good faith instead of just as part of a twelve step plan wherein they disingenuously go about trying to lay some kind of convoluted ‘trap’ to lure me into. As though any of this is worth that fucking effort in the first place. LOL.

So by all means, disagree with me, contest me, put the screws to something I say and force me to defend my point further.....but like.....just be fucking honest about it. Or be willing to put your URL/name to it when doing so, even if you ask that I keep it out of public view, so that at least I know you’re not one of my half a dozen hate-following Regulars who habitually pop up on anon pretending to be someone brand new until three messages later when they’re like “Surprise! You thought I was just some rando, but here I am with the same receipts I’ve been claiming to have for the past half a decade!” (Oh no, much shock, mortification, oh unknowable plot twist, who could have ever seen that coming). LOL, y’know what I mean? Like, if you’re off anon or if you at least @ me with something approaching at least SOME modicum of respect, I’m soooooo much more likely to not just dismiss anything and everything you say from the word go, just because the sheer novelty of that approach is gonna be more engaging to me than, like, Me Vs Some Rando Whose Opening Gambit Is “Well Actually.....*proceeds to argue against points several galactic light years north of anything I’ve ever actually said ever*”: Round Fifty Two Bajillion. 

Like yeah, I’m rude as fuck in a lot of the arguments I get into on here, because I’m not a big fan of turning the other cheek and also I’m not gonna gloss over the ugly in something someone says just because they couch it in ‘civilized, well-mannered discourse.’ So I’m not at all offering some carte blanche guarantee or a secret password for how to go about saying something vile to my face without me responding by verbally ripping your head off, lol, I just mean like.....you ever have some free time to kill, go back through my archives to my earliest posts on this site. You can literally WATCH the slow expiration of my Give-A-Fucks in real time. I usually position myself to be the Reactive part of an argument on this site deliberately.....I don’t go starting things unless I’m weighing in on something that crosses my dash and already is looking ugly as hell, and for the most part, 90% of the fights I get into on this site are people approaching me to begin it, and y’know.....I don’t owe it to anyone to treat them or their position with more respect than they approach me with. LOL. And also, I don’t owe it to my own reading comprehension or that of anyone else who is similarly not an idiot to treat the ‘faux-respect/politeness’ people are addicted to on here as anything other than rudeness couched in the additional insult of assuming I and others are too stupid to see the subtextual disdain. Like. Nope. Miss me.

Bottom line is just, I’m not looking to be yet one more person giving people who are legitimately questioning things they’ve been told or led to believe, like, reason to be too intimidated or afraid to actually question these things rather than just keep to their personal status quo in an effort to avoid confrontation. But I’m always going to be trying to balance that with being equally not a fan of enabling people who play-act at being too fragile or delicate to face up to their own behavior or the ugliness of their own opinions or stances if its delivered to them in ways that inspire them to cry-type about how like, its not their fault society told them it was okay to shit on entire groups of people as long as they could safely get away with it.

There’s a line there and I’m no tight-rope walker so no, I don’t have all the answers and am not actually trying to pretend I do, and believe it or not, I put a lot of thought and introspection into constantly self-evaluating not just my own stances and beliefs, but the why’s of them, and the how’s of how I go about interacting with others because of them, or talking about them, or anything of the like.

But because I do put a lot of effort into that myself, I am aware of like....there not really being an excuse for others not being similarly willing to do the same with their own behavior, beliefs or approaches to others, so.....meet me halfway, is all this really comes down to. To anyone who genuinely does find themselves at odds with things I say or troubled by viewpoints I espouse or even just flat out confused as to how to reconcile something I brought up with contradictory beliefs they’ve long held or been instilled with and are just trying to figure out which actually sounds more right to them now.

I do not want to be the bogeyman who is just so intimidating that even when he says something that makes you go ‘huh, maybe this thing I thought was wrong, but I’m not sure,’ you’re afraid to follow-up and explore that further in a back-and-forth with me. But I’m similarly disinclined to be used as the strawman/patsy/etc of people who are just interested in trying to manuever me into some conversational position they feel they can use to discredit me in front of their own followers and thus cement their own bullshit position that way. 

I just happen to get a lot of the latter, and that kinda plays directly into why I so often end up defaulting to the former. That’s not actually an excuse and so its more than fair for anyone to think that’s no reason to change their mind about me, a thing I’ve said or a way I’ve said it. But if fair is actually a thing you’re interested in, then please consider factoring all of the above in when deciding how or why or in what ways you approach an argument or disagreement with me, if you find yourself inclined to do so in the future. 

I would appreciate it, and even more importantly, I promise you it will be far more productive in encouraging me to actually argue or debate a point with you. As opposed to just making light of anything you say to me, much like I feel most approaches to me make light of the things I say, and thus.....my tendency to default to variations of LOL, you got some dumb on your face there buddy.

ANYWAYS.

Thank you for your consideration in this matter,

The Extremely Tired and Over It Management

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

A love that never leaves (2)

Summary: Sometimes when you go looking for the past, you find things you never expected. When an accident brings him face to face with something he never knew he lost, Bucky Barnes begins to understand an age old truth – it’s so easy, sometimes, to love the things that destroy us.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. Sad Bucky.

A/N: The plot thickens. Bucky recovers from a shit situation and learns more about the person who found him. Remembering is really hard and memories do not cooperate.

I’m planning to post a chapter a week, on either Saturday or Sunday. I tried to tag everyone who reached out, but if I missed you, it was unintentional, so please send me a DM or ASK, it’s easier for me to track. Otherwise you can find the new updates each weekend!

MASTERLIST ALTNL MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Previously...

The figure halts. A gloved hand reaches to pull back the hood of the white coat and a woman’s face appears. Even through the howling wind, Bucky hears her question clearly and he doesn’t understand why the two syllables feel like a knife ripping through skin and bone and thick sinew, straight to his heart.

“Soldier?”

She speaks hesitantly, her voice tinged with a peculiar hint of hope. Bucky wants to ruminate further, but his fingers are rubbing the slippery edges of his gunshot wounds and the snow around him is greedy, lusting for the hot blood he spills.

He wants to answer. He tries to answer, he really does.

Instead, he falls face first into the soft snow.

*****

MISSION REPORT

CONTACT MADE BUT RESPONDENT ELIMINATED. BASE DID NOT REVEAL INFORMATION REQUIRED TO PROCEED TO NEXT RENDEZVOUS POINT. HOLD AND WAIT.

WITHOUT ADDITIONAL SUPPORT MISSION FAILURE IS IMMINENT. REQUESTING BACK UP FOR – 

For what? The words evaporate. Smoke in the wind. The pencil clatters to the floor and rolls away and his notebook follows. He goes to his knees in front of the brick wall and he slams his fist against it again and again, until his knuckles are shredded. 

He screams.

****

Bucky’s entire body is on fire.

Burning hot, scorching him from the inside out. This can’t be right, he’s done. He’s supposed to be done with this shit, what are they doing now? Bleary eyes open and he tries to speak. To tell them no, to leave him alone, to please just fucking stop. Heat races through his veins, suffocating him and he feels rivers of sweat coursing down his face, down his chest, down his arms. 

Above him, floats a blurry face, both intensely familiar and completely foreign. She wipes a cold cloth over his face and Bucky sighs in relief. 

Darkness comes again.

*****

We’ll meet again…don’t know where…don’t know when…but I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day…

The melody flows like water inside his head and Bucky follows it slowly, swimming languidly into consciousness. When he breaks the surface, his brain comes to life, but his eyes stay closed.

It’s a trait he perfected over the years, waking up without anyone realizing. Back then, he’d quickly discovered if you’re flat on your back and don’t know where you are, your safest bet is certainly not to show them you’re awake. Once they know, you lose your advantage.

That’s usually when the pain starts.

Instead, he starts his internal assessment. Ears straining for any hint of sound, he waits, listening for anything. The intake of breath, a quiet sniffle, the whisper of fabric, a footfall. Anything. The silence stretches and he’s finally forced to conclude – either his captor is just that good, or he’s alone. 

Cracking an eye, he draws a soundless breath, taking stock of his surroundings.

This is – interesting.  

The room he’s in is dim, suffused with swaths of muted daylight streaming in through the massive window in front of the bed. His eyes track the expanse of clear glass, stretching from the floor, extending up the vaulted ceiling and ending in a wide skylight. A small fireplace is tucked into the corner, a basket of logs piled next to the dark slate tiles, and the soothing pop and crackle of wood lulls him toward a sense of false security. 

Snow still falls outside, but it’s no longer the wailing blizzard; instead, fat, wet flakes drift quietly by, piling onto the tall evergreens hugging the window. 

Feeling the silky sheen of satin against his skin, he peeks under the sheets to find himself nearly naked, wearing nothing more than a crisp white bandage and skin-tight boxers. 

“What the sweet fuck is this shit?” he mutters, dropping the sheets and struggling to sit up. The bed is wide and covered in all shades of blue – a dusty blue duvet, sky blue sheets, a midnight blue quilt – and suddenly it all mixes into a watery blur when his vision goes sideways. Pain rips through him and he flops back, whining softly. Pressing gently against the bandage, the pain flares so fast, he digs his heels into the bed, spine arching unconsciously. He can feel it, actually feel it, the tugging sensation of his skin knitting itself back together. Sweat instantly pours down his face.

“Don’t scream,” he hisses through gritted teeth, “don’t scream you fuckin’ baby, don’t.”

Clamping his lips together, he swallows the sounds he’d desperately love to howl, focusing on counting the snowflakes drifting past the window. He loses count of the deep, calming breaths he takes and long minutes later, the worst appears to pass. For now. Bucky’s rigid muscles begin to relax.

He appreciates the whole healing fast thing, he really does, but the process is just fucking unpleasant.

Swinging his legs over the bed, toes curling into a plush rug, he wobbles to his feet. Looking around, he searches for his clothes, but he comes up empty handed. He doesn’t actually mind the lack of clothing, it’s more the lack of pockets for weapons that irritate him.

But a good solider can make a weapon from anything, so he snatches a log from the basket next to the fireplace, rotates his arm until the plates shift smoothly, and creeps from the bedroom.  

Tiptoeing down the steps to the first level, he stops short. 

The small town he’d infiltrated was derelict, gritty, downtrodden.

The home he finds himself inhabiting is the polar opposite.

Wooden steps lead down into a cosy stone and log cabin. The small kitchen has an island with a couple hand-hewn stools and an oak butcher block in the middle, burnished copper pots hanging from a rack above. The floor is a deep russet red, the wide-planked floorboards containing a myriad of knots and whorls. Above him, thick beams stretch the expanse of the room, with dark iron lighting fixtures casting a rosy glow through the room. In the centre wall of the living room, flanked with tall vertical windows, stands a fireplace, the uneven shapes of grey river rock fitting together seamlessly. From the tall windows, he has a clear view of a foggy mountain range. Another fire crackles and pops merrily in the calm silence. 

A cracked white pitcher filled with pine boughs gives off a sharp, clean scent and Bucky finds himself struggling to remain overly vigilant, because it’s beautiful. It’s a home. 

Beauty means nothing though. A lesson he learned the hard way through the years.

Slinking into the kitchen, he rummages through the silverware, turning up three finely sharpened knives. Two, he tucks into the elastic band of his boxers, feeling instant relief at the feel of the blades hugging his hip. The third, a large butcher knife, he flips around and holds outward, ready to swing.

Switching into stealth mode, he goes to work.

Rifling through kitchen cupboards and drawers. Lifting throw pillows and blankets from the sofa. Scanning rows of books arranged in alphabetical order. Searching a small linen closet. Ears perked for the sound of footsteps outside.

And yeah, he finds a few things.

A few weird things.

It starts in the small closet. Buried under a pile of quilts, he finds a heavy metal box. Pulling a bobby pin from the perpetual tangle of colorful hair-ties he keeps around his wrist, it takes a few tries before he has the lock picked. Lifting the lid reveals a perfectly folded pile of worn t-shirts. Shaking each out, he scans the logos – emblazoned across each one is a different city from Bon Jovi’s 1986 Slippery When Wet European tour. 

They’re just old t-shirts, the kinds you find people hawking at concert venues or in the bargain bin at a thrift store. Nothing special or expensive. Yet here they are, folded into neat squares and tucked into a box that could probably withstand an explosion. 

His confusion spirals, but Bucky fights a small smile. It seems odd, but hey, he really likes Bon Jovi too. Maybe he would do the same.

Re-folding the tissue thin cloth, he locks the box and stuffs it back in place.

Trying the bookcase next, he pulls books out, feeling behind them. Knuckles rap at random, tap, tap, tap, until he hears an unexpected thunk. The hollow sound gives it away and with a shove, he shifts the back panel and finds another small locked box. Holding it under his arm, he fiddles with the bobby pin again and the lid cracks. Two items appear.

A crushed red velvet jewelry bag.

A handful of cheap vintage postcards in a clear plastic bag.

Crouching to the floor, he shakes the contents of the jewelry bag free. A handful of silvery-blue pebbles clatter out and in the middle of the pile, a necklace. Bucky holds the worn chain up to the light. Spinning slowly on the end is a round disc, a little dingy and rubbed smooth, but he can see the outline. 

Bucky wasn’t exactly a good little Catholic growing up, and yeah, religion wasn’t the sort of personal expression Hydra encouraged for the Soldier. His knowledge of saints was spotty as a kid and is extensively worse now, but he recognizes the medal – he knows Steve had one, wore it during the war and was wearing it when his plane went down. He donated it to the Smithsonian when he returned. Most of the military seemed to have one back then and Bucky assumes he had one as well, although he has no clue.

On the little medal, is the image of Saint Michael. The patron saint of Soldiers.

Fingering the medal pensively, he tries to summon a memory, any memory. He figures he must have something in there that could build off this particular war-related trinket.

But no. Just like always.

Setting it gently aside, he opens the clear bag instead. Pulling out the postcards, he lines them carefully up in front of him, internally translating the languages.

Covered with palm trees, an exuberant statement in French: Welcome to sunny Nice!

A colorful boulevard linked with green trees in Spanish stating: The Beauty of Barcelona 

A laughing cartoon caricature of a man holding skis in Swiss German: Enjoy your Winter in Zurich

The solemn announcement in Italian, written over an image of the Coliseum: Hello from Rome: The Eternal City

Orange and red leaves, covering a giant beer stein in German: Oktoberfest in Munich!

And the dogged mantra of the stoic English, tall white letters against a soft pink backdrop: Keep Calm and Carry On

But the one that piques his interest the most, is last in the pile. A hand-painted postcard, the paint chipped and faded through time, of the Brooklyn Bridge at night. The title above in carefully printed letters reads: Brooklyn, New York – Thank God It’s Not Jersey. Bucky feels his heart stutter at the words, because he’s pretty god damn sure he and Steve used to throw out that same phrase. 

On the back of the Brooklyn postcard, he finds the inked shapes of two hearts tangled together.

Bucky stares hard at the image, so simple but vibrating with some unknown meaning. Flipping through all the other cards, he finds them blank, nothing more than a pretty collection. Bewildered and careening toward frustrated anger, he gathers them together and slips them into the bag. He bangs the box shut and hides it away again.

He finds three more locked boxes in his search, each containing innocuous items. One with a thin, moth-eaten baby blanket. One with a random assortment of old Life magazines.

After stowing away the final box, housing an envelope with three sepia toned photos of a tall man and a small girl, he spends another ten minutes searching for clues. Finally, he’s convinced the room has shared all its secrets - until he notices the crease in the rug below the coffee table.

Shoving the table aside, Bucky flips up the rug. In the middle of the floor, he finds a plank of wood slightly thinner than the others, with a small chink in the edge. Crouching down, he runs his thumb around it and nudges it up, finding a hidden space below.

There he finds one more box. His beleaguered bobby pin gives a final brave attempt and with a quiet snick, the lock pops open. 

Inside are three dusty books. Peeling gold letters line the spine of each, showing a single word, followed by three different numbers. 

Journal, 1967 Journal, 1968 Journal, 1969 

From the pages of 1969, a ticket stub flutters to the floor.

*****

Under the fall of lacy snowflakes, she walks. Circling the small cabin for hours, her toes are damn near frozen, but she finds herself unwilling to go back inside. He has to be waking soon and the thought of facing him makes her chest ache. Instead, she walks the narrow path along the bank of the rushing stream bordering her home and argues with herself.

Go inside. Ask him. Talk to him. See if he remembers. Tell him the truth! He deserves to know. Maybe he doesn’t want to hear it. Maybe he’ll just kill you and be done. Probably not though, you’re not that lucky.

Hysterical laughter bubbles up and she digs the puffy gloved heels of her palms into her eyes. She really needs to get out more. This constant talking to herself thing will get her institutionalized someday.

But she literally has no one else to talk to. And that right there, has always been the problem. 

Brushing the snow from a giant boulder, she gingerly sits. Bending forward, she drops her head to her knees and wraps her arms around her legs, trying desperately not to give in to the panic attack threatening to drive its anxious fingers into her brain. Memories begin to swirl and even after all this time, the sound of his voice rises so easily to the surface, a sweet, drawling Brooklyn twang that turns her stomach to knots.

“Je vais avoir de la chance ce soir. Il y a de belles femmes en France qui ne m'aiment pas?”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Wait for me darlin’, okay? Will you? I’ll come back for you. I promise I will.”

“You’re what I want. You’re what I’m always gonna want.”

“You and me, this kind of love, it lasts forever, okay? It’s never gonna leave.”

“Dammit. Shit shit shit,” she chants to herself. Thick and heavy, the memories press down until she buckles under the burden of remembering. Tears begin to fall, hot trails down her face and she wipes them away, her hands shaking. 

She stays on the frozen rock, letting time pass while the cold seeps through her clothes. The air is so icy, it makes her lungs seize.

*****

The butcher knife lays beside him, within easy reach. Bucky sits cross-legged on the floor, flicking through the pages at random. He pauses now and then, digging deeper, losing himself in the faded ink of another’s life.

19 May, 1967

America is strange. I arrived in Los Angeles with no goal, just rented a car and drove. First to the coast and saw the ocean. It was different than the first time Papa took me – I’ve never seen anything so blue. I tried not to think about it, but it was in my head. It’s always there. Blue everywhere. The water, the sky, his eyes. I can never leave it behind.

The songs on the radio here, they’re different too. It feels like the heart of this country is screaming and I see why. Vietnam is different. This war, it’s unexplainable maybe, but there’s a frustrated weariness in the words. 

But then again, is it really that different? No matter the fight, Soldiers still give their lives and leave their sweethearts crying in the streets. They promise to come home, that ridiculously naive optimism of youth, and instead they die in a battle they never wanted to join. It’s the universal truth of every fight, since the beginning of time. The tears should be enough to stop this all from happening, but no. War keeps coming, one after another, and soldiers answer the call.

I still remember what he said that night. It’s stayed with me more than anything else. They’ll run out of soldiers eventually, he said, like he was nothing more than a cheap commodity. He was so tired by the end. I should have helped him.

11 April, 1968

Last week I was walking by the book stalls down at the Seine and saw a bargain bin of English language books. I found a book of poetry and I swear to god, that damn thing fell open on this:

He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good. W.H. Auden

I don’t think I could find a better articulation of my mood. Either Fate has something against me, or I’m just that unlucky. I bought it. I couldn’t help myself.

21 July, 1969

Sometimes, I think miracles do still exist in this world.

Down at an old hotel, the entire town was crowded in the dining room. They had a TV balanced up on a shelf so everyone could see and they caught the BBC1 broadcast. The entire room was dead silent. It was overwhelming, I can still hardly imagine it. A man walking on the moon!

The whole time I kept thinking how much he would have loved this. How he would have laughed. How he probably would have tried to sign up to be a spaceman! The more I remembered, the more I thought about that night by the river, after we first met. All those stars in the sky. Decades later and I still wonder about it – how it’s possible to be so in love with someone – but then again, how could anyone fail to love him? He was so warm, so full of life and excitement and dreams. God. We had so many dreams, so many plans for the future. We were so naïve, thinking the world might owe us a little happiness. What a joke.

And now here I am. Alone with nothing but memories – just like always. That life we wanted, it’s as far away as the moon. Unreachable and impossible.

1 January, 1970 We never He was I thought A Soldier with a metal arm?

The journal ends there. 

Bucky looks at the ticket stub that fell from the delicate pages and the words bring forth a wavering reel of images, brand new and unfamiliar.

Moulin Rouge New Year’s Eve Ball Admittance: 1 Individual 31 December, 1969

The black lacquer of a piano. Silver sparkles reflecting from crystal chandeliers. The scent of fizzy champagne and the tang of blood and a dark apartment overlooking the twinkling lights of Paris.

Disoriented, Bucky sets the book down. What the hell is this? Who is she? She must be Hydra, she has to be. How else would she know the Soldier? Why did she take him, what does she want? Why does she have journals from so long ago, what do they mean?

It’s the eternal tragedy of his god damn life – always questions, never answers. He looks around the warm, peaceful little cabin and scrubs his hands down his face. He needs to plot his next move, but the bullet wounds throb with fresh, fiery pain and he’s suddenly and overwhelmingly exhausted.

So, he remains seated, surrounded by pages upon pages from someone else’s life.

Blinking back frustrated tears as he stares at the books, he knows without a doubt, that these three years of writing hold more memories than he could conjure in the lifetime he’s lived.

Distantly, he hears the slow crunch of boots on snow. Rousing himself from the miserable train of thought, he scrambles to his feet, turning to face the front door when footsteps hit the porch steps and begin to climb.

Bucky wipes the tears from his eyes. And he lifts his knife.

*****

Pacing back and forth across the small porch, she stops in front of the door and reaches for the handle.

And draws away again. Curses and keeps pacing. Tries again, pulls back.

“Open the door, you god damn coward,” she whispers harshly.

Squaring her shoulders, she turns the knob and pushes it open before she can lose her nerve. Stepping inside, the room is silent, just as she left it. Orange flames flicker in the fireplace, the smell of smoky wood and pine needles hangs in the air. She shuts the door quietly, shakes out her coat and hangs it on the rack. Taps the snow from her boots and unwinds her scarf. Rubbing her temples, she takes a deep breath and starts for the stairs, determined to face him.

She takes three steps, before the wind is knocked clean from her lungs.

The heavy body hits her from behind, one arm curling around her chest, the other pressing her butcher knife against her throat. The voice in her ear is so gut wrenchingly familiar, she nearly faints. 

“Leaving a strange man alone in your bed with access to knives – not your best move.”

When he was lying unconscious wrapped in her quilts, she thought he seemed smaller than she remembered. Now, the breadth of his body against her back makes her realize just how wrong that assessment was. 

“Yes. I should have hidden the knives,” she tries to speak. “Something to remember next time.”

“Tell me who the fuck you are.”

She should be terrified right now. The most prolific assassin of the 20th century has a razor-sharp blade sitting at her throat and a metal arm digging into her chest. With the slightest move, he could crush her lungs or slit her throat. He wouldn’t even have to try. 

She should be terrified, but she’s not. Because the years, the decades, have been nothing more than an empty echo without him, and now he’s here. Against all odds, he is here with her. Relaxing in his arms, she leans back and closes her eyes.

Bucky stiffens abruptly at the movement. 

Her hand floats up and reaches for the wrist flexing at her throat. She feels his grip tighten further, but for some reason, he allows her curious touch. Fingers trembling, they find the thin ridge, running down the long white scar curving from his right thumb across the back of his hand. 

It’s nothing more than a gentle caress, but – 

Like a hammer to his skull, his head splits head open. With a frightened snarl, he shoves her away and she stumbles forward, catching herself against the sofa. Slowly, she turns to face him fully. 

Dark hair frames his face in sweaty tangles and his blue eyes are wild. 

“What the fucking hell was that?” he hisses. The knife is held outward and he scratches at the scar, trying to scrub away her touch.

“I’m sorry,” she says, rubbing her throat. “I wasn’t – I’m sorry.”

“How the hell did I get here?” Bucky barks. “Last thing I remember, I was gut shot and bleeding out in a god damn blizzard.”

“I found you. Brought you here.”

“Yeah, obviously. Except I’m fuckin’ heavy and no offense, but you don’t look much like a super soldier. So, I’ll ask again - how the hell did I get here? Who else is working with you?”

“No one, it’s just me. And I’m not working. You – I don’t know, you just followed me. When you collapsed in the snow, I rolled you over and shouted your name, and your eyes just – they opened and you got to your feet.”

Bucky glares at her. “Convenient, that you knew my name. And how to wake me up.”

Jaw clenching, she glares back now. “I didn’t know how to wake you up. You were bleeding everywhere, but you stood there like you were waiting for something.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he grimaces. He thinks he knows what’s coming.

“Say I believe you. Then what?”

“You asked for instructions, so I told you to get in my truck and I brought you here. I’m sorry, I didn’t know – I wasn’t sure what to do. When we got here, you wouldn’t go upstairs. You just laid down on the dining table and – ”

She pauses, but he sighs resignedly. “Keep going.”

“Both bullets, they were still – inside. I had to dig them out. I got bandages and tried to stitch up the wound. You were awake, I thought you were awake, the entire time. You were telling me what to do. Kept asking if – you kept asking if I was new.”

Bucky feels his face heat in embarrassment. Shifting uncomfortably, he grudgingly explains. “That was a secondary protocol. Something happens to the Asset, it’s programmed – I mean I was programmed - to help fix the problem.” 

The cabin is quiet for a drawn-out moment. 

“Oh,” she finally says. Her voice sounds small. 

“So? You’re former Hydra then?”

She blanches at the comment. “What? No! I was never with them.”

“Really,” Bucky says sarcastically. “You just happened upon me and knew my name and brought me to a cabin in the middle of nowhere for no reason? That was all just luck?”

“Stop being a jerk. I said I don’t work for them,” she snaps, anger seeping into her voice. “I’d slit my own throat first.”

Bucky goes quiet, considering the statement. His loses some of the hostility when he replies, but his tone is still suspicious. “But we know each other. You know him. Or – me. The Soldier.”

“Yes. I know the – Soldier.”

“Well, I don’t remember you,” Bucky says harshly, and he watches her face fall. He feels a pang of remorse at her disappointment and almost points out that she’s not unique, he never remembers. But he holds his tongue.

Eyes dropped to the floor, her shoulders sag. “I didn’t expect you would.”

An awkward silence fills the room. Bucky feels that strange ache in his chest once again, a desire to smooth the unhappiness from her face, and an apology tumbles from his lips. 

“I’m sorry I don’t remember. Trust me, it’s definitely not you.”

“No. Please don’t apologize,” she says quickly, looking up. She shakes her head like she wants to say something more; instead, she swallows the words and offers an olive branch. “Do you want to know? I mean - do you want me to tell you?” 

Bucky considers the offer. Before him stands a lovely woman. One who knew the Soldier, who met the worst incarnation of himself, but without the security of Hydra to help her. He comes to a swift, depressing conclusion.

Chances are, he did something shitty to her.

Does he want to know then? Does he really need another gruesome memory clogging up his brain? 

Sure. Because Bucky never knows when to quit.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “Tell me. I want to hear it.” 

“Okay, I can do that,” she says softly. She motions him to sit on the couch, but Bucky hesitates.

“Can I, uh, have some pants first?” He asks stiffly. “This is sort of awkward.”

The surprise on her face makes Bucky think for one fleeting moment that she might laugh. But then she nods and disappears through a small room off the kitchen. When she returns, she’s holding a neatly folded stack of fresh laundry and he recognizes the contents of his backpack. 

“Here,” she sets it cautiously on the dining table. “I’m sorry I went through your bag, I didn’t have any men’s clothing, so…anyway, I washed it all.” 

Bucky snatches his ragged Captain America t-shirt and black sweats from the top of the pile, shimmying into them. Pulling a rainbow colored band off his wrist, he ties his hair back and drops to the couch. 

She takes the armchair across from him, as far away as she can get in the small living room, and tucks her hands under her legs. Bucky knows he’s unlikely to enjoy whatever she has to say, but he folds his fingers together and waits. She stares down at her feet, appearing to gather her courage before meeting his grim stare head on.

Her voice is steady, as she starts to speak.

“Paris was cold that December and it snowed early. It was New Year’s Eve in 1969.”

*****

Next Chapter

*****

Tags are open right now, if you want one, please send me a DM or ASK.

[ofbrightauroras]

Hello, my name is Katie and I play Ches and Balo! There’s a 99.9999% chance I’m currently my grandparents for Thanksgiving Dinner right now because #holidays so this is scheduled BUT I’ll be around on mobile most likely on and off until I get home. I’m always willing to offer my Discord tag to plot if that’s easier for anyone, just dm me for it! Otherwise feel free to like this (or Ches’s) and I’ll dm you! That or, slide into my dms. I love plotting a lot. Anyway, I’ve rambled enough, without further ado, the intro:

TWs: Child Abuse, Eating Disorders

romee strijd. female. she/hers /  did i hear you say paint covered jeans, an ever-present smile, and strawberry scented shampoo ? then you must be talking about aurora, i’d recognize them anywhere. i’ve heard that the 20 year old maid is a aquarus and honestly, i see it. they’re known for being naive and sensitive, but their bubby and imaginitive tendencies make up for it. they’ve been working at du lac for one year and i think that their real name is balian "balo" driskell, but don’t spill.

Quick Facts:

Codename: Aurora Legal Name: Balian Grace Driskell Preferred Name when not using her codename: Balo, Balian is really only when she’s in trouble. Age: 20 Gender:  Female Sexuality: Bisexual Date of Birth: February 7th Place of Birth: Saratoga Springs, New York Hometown: Saratoga Springs, New York Nationality: American

Languages: English Occupation: Maid at Hotel Dulac

Father’s Full Name: Lance Driskell Father’s Status: Alive Father’s Occupation: Restaurant Owner Mother’s Full Name: Cassandra “Cass” Driskell Mother’s Status: Alive Mother’s Occupation: Waitress Driskell Siblings Oldest to Youngest:

Grace (25)

Zander (24)

Balo

Relationship Status: Single Health Issues: Anoxeria Nerovsa

Quick History:

• Balo hasn’t ever had an easy life. Her father, Lance - is an abusive alcoholic, and while her mother tried her best to protect her children - she also covered things up without hesitation. It wasn’t uncommon to see a Driskell in the ER with a lie and people willing to back up the story. • She loves art, painting especially, and she always dreamed of being some sort of artist. While her mother encouraged it every chance she got, her father hated every piece of the idea. It wasn’t uncommon for the man to lash out over it. • While she tries to see the best in everyone, no matter what. She truly can’t see it in her father, a fact she feels extremely guilty over it. This trait of hers also makes her very easy to manipulate. • She truly just wants to love and befriend everyone, while it’s not really too hard to make her cry, usually you’ll see Balo running around with a smile trying to brighten everyone’s day. This is an issue because she’ll put everyone around her before herself every time, your happiness is a priority before hers. Again, making her easy to manipulate. (So I welcome manipulating Balo and love it when it occurs, please feel free to do so at any point) • The lack of control in her life is what led to her eating disorder, she was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa in her early teens. It’s a condition she still struggles to maintain, although she is trying. • After graduating high school, she had been planning on attending college at the closest community college and getting a job at the art supply store as she slowly tried to make her way towards a degree her father disapproved of. • Moving to Iceland was something she had never imagined doing, but when her older brother Zander decided to move, he took her with him. Grace was in California, he was leaving, she would have been alone with her parents otherwise. • She got a job at Hotel Dulac not long after they moved to work as a maid. She’s been living in Iceland for a year now and she loves it. Sometimes she misses the states but she’s safe and she’s happy, that’s the most important thing. • Aurora was chosen for multiple reasons, at first Balo struggled with picking a city and looked at lists to help her decide, however when she saw Aurora in one it stuck. Perhaps it was her love of Disney or her awe of the lights above her head at night but the city’s name called to her.

[akatdeity]

RULES

On the Muses -

    Hidan is a priest with extremist tendencies. You will often find him with some sort of weapon in his body as a part of ritual self-mutilation. Body horror, existentialism, and general violence is to be expected, and will be tagged accordingly.

    Hidan is mostly friendly and contemplative, but easily slips into teasing that can be cruel. He isn’t looking for relationships that aren’t between him and the Big Guy Down There. Please be patient with him. Don’t force anything. If you want him to be gentle or soft, please DM to plot out something with the mun.

  The only holy thing this blog recognizes is Jashin, so please - no god modding.

   †   .   †   .   †

    Jashin is a god of life and death. He can often be found among the suffering, judging souls and setting them right. Psychological horror, existentialism, and general creepiness is to be expected, and will be tagged accordingly.

    Jashin is calculating, and stares at men as if they are cogs in the grand scheme of his perfect universe. To him, everything has a balance, and so pain and pleasure are two sides of the same coin. He favors very few. Please be patient with him. Don’t force anything. If you want him to be gentle or soft, please DM to plot out something with the mun.

Being a god, he will occasionally intervene in the lives of mortals. Mun will contact you ahead of time as needed. Note that Jashin will not intervene on Hidan’s behalf: his follower will reap what he sows.

   †   .   †   .   †

On the Mun -

Basic Info: Mun has no pronoun preference. Use whatever you like. 

Shipping: Mun is open to almost all pairings where characters have chemistry. 

Hidan/Konan: 🚫

Noncon and domestic abuse: 🚫

NSFW: Mun is 21+. Will write 18+ ships with 21+ RP partners. 

Interactions -

Unless otherwise discussed, Mun usually answers queries assuming that the relationship between characters is that of canon. Muses will interact and ship with everyone, so long as they are compatible! Friendships, rivalry and hateships are also sought after. 

     Style: Paragraph/Prose, usually present-tense.      Length: Match quality not word count.       Asks: 

Put IC dialogue in quotes.

Indicate applicable verses, muse(s) and/or characters. 

If not specified, Mun will choose whatever is inspiring.

    Mutual RP Blogs: ❤️     Non-Mutual RPers: ❤️     Non-RP Blogs: ❤️     Likes & Reblogs: ❤️

All likes are good likes.

Ask before reblogging an RP thread.

Anyone can reblog posts in which Mun is OP. 

    OCs, Alts, Rare and Crossover Characters: ❤️

Please DM a VERY detailed bio prior to interacting. 

   Over-Projection & Kins: 🚫    Callouts/Vagueposts: 🚫

  †   .   †   .   †

FAQS:

    Who are you?

I go by “Akat” on my roleplay Tumblrs, @akatdollie, @akatdeity, and @slcklecell.

If you know my fandom main do not mention it to others, please.

    Are you affiliated with Akatzombie?

No. Akatzombie—though my friend—is run by another wonderfully talented mun.

    Why didn’t you follow me back?

First, this is a side blog. I may have followed you back from my main, “akatsings”. You do not have to follow that blog for me to interact with yours.

Second, I don’t automatically follow back. If I do, I may unfollow at will—nothing against you, I just aim to keep my dash focused for my muses.

Third, if you don’t see that in your follower list, don’t worry! I still answer casual asks (ooc and easy interactions) from anyone, both rp and non-rp blogs.

    How selective are you in general?

I will not respond in detailed prose to any rare, crossover, or OC character without an easy to find biography/intro. I am not researching your muse. That is not fun—it’s homework.

OOC and headcanon asks are fine, though.

I will not answer shipping, violent, or sexual asks for anyone but my mutuals. Even then I only answer what inspires me.

The reason for this is that my muses tend to respond aggressively to unsolicited advances, and I don’t always feel comfortable answering in character.

I won’t thread for anyone but long-term friends or those who respect and understand the dynamics of my characters.

I reserve the right to determine who does and does not meet the above qualifications.

    How selective are you in shipping?

It usually takes me two to three sentences of a reasonable argument/AU to ship something, but I won’t do all the work to make it “happen.”

Further: Just because I generally ship something, doesn’t mean that I will automatically ship my muse with yours. Different muns have different portrayals and different writing styles for the same muses; sometimes these portrayals click. Other times they don’t.

    What if my character doesn’t meet yours in canon?

That’s fine! Just ask or dm me with how you want them to interact (friends? Rivals? Comrades? Etc), plus a scenario where they do meet, and I will tell you how my muse will react in that situation, and then we’ll move on from there.

    What if I want to make an AU for our muses?

Same as above! Give me an idea and we’ll talk about it.

I generally have a lot of open-ended verses that I adapt to fit other people’s muses and ideas. You are free to propose a variation on them, or another verse entirely. However, I won’t be doing all the work in order to get our characters to meet, interact and like/dislike each other—that’s unfair, and too much work on one mun.

If you’re having trouble, start with— “I really think it’s cool if X and Y character—“ etc. Or how you think our characters would work together.

    What if I accidentally break a rule of yours?

If you’re a mutual, I will take a screenshot of the rule and kindly remind you to abide by them. If you’re a stranger, I will automatically soft block or block, depending on how badly the rule was broken and how uncomfortable I feel.

I don’t make these rules to be mean, but to save the time and energy of us all. So if these rules are disregarded, then we will have to cut our losses. I will unfollow when I feel like someone has not read my rule page, and not be inclined to interact.

If you’re unsure if you have broken a rule, please politely ask. I don’t bite really.

    How do I interact with you more?

Send! 👏 More! 👏 Asks!

OOC, or IC, I promise to return the favor.

     Can I have your discord ID?

Nope! This is reserved for long-term friends and mutuals that respect my characters.

If you are one of these people, do not give out my ID without asking, please.

  †   .   †   .   †

Thank you for reading my rules! Mun will extend the same courtesy to you, and will be reading your blog information prior to following or interacting.

   †   .   †   .   †

    Note: Mun works eight to six job Monday through Friday, in addition to running several sideblogs, so replies may be slow. Feel free to poke them if you haven’t heard from them in a while.

About   †   Verses   †   Rules (here)

[pjo-hoo-nextgen]

On another note!

There are still lots of slots open for this! A description is below! Please please please sign up! I’m pumped for this and I have a feeling a lot of you are well equipped for this!!

This is something I've wanted to do for a while. An author's games. This is a competition. One will create a demigod who will be put through the challenges I design. It is your writing that keeps them alive. You will face off against other entries until only one candidate remains. Read on for further directions:

World:

The heroes we've grown up with have grown into adulthood. It's now a new set of heroes (your candidates) who will now face the quests at hand. Roman or Greek it matters not-the same goal remains for everyone.

How This Works:

1. You will fill out a form I will post after this chapter.

2. You will submit it to the email I provide with it filled out as elaborately or simply as you'd like along with a picture of what your demigod looks like.

3. I will provide a chapter starting the plot line of this competition to start sparking your ideas.

4. Deadlines will be final. Unless otherwise discussed with me.

5. I will judge the writing and give a score along with feed back to help you all improve!

6. No one gets eliminated on the first trial because I -along with you-are learning.

7. After the first trial eliminations begin. The bottom two scores for that challenge will be up to vote.

8. You will DM me privately for who you wish to eliminate.

Rules:

1. No begging or bartering for votes for or against yourself

2. I will try to be as committed as possible so you should too!

3. No rudeness or cruel comments on someone else's writing! I will not tolerate it. Everyone learns and grows!

4. Have fun!

5. If any conflicts arise just private message or email me! I'm very open minded my friends!

What Can Be Included:

1. You can use the original demigods in your writing but they shouldn't be the sole focus!

2. You can also come up with ships you like for the original demigods. (I don't mind and have no opinion. If you want to reference Percabeth, or Solangelo, or anything canon/not I am for it!)

3. You can also have ships with your own candidate just not with any of the older demigods.

4. You can reference other writer's works or even have your candidate and another run into each other!

Notes:

1. This is the first time I'm doing this so it most likely won't be a smooth ride! Please bear with me! It's just something fun I've wanted to try for some time because I've always had fun in participating in them too!

2. Please feel free to contact me!

3. I have school and work so I understand conflicts because I very well may have some of my own. My family is also large so things tend to happen randomly at times.

4. I will try to be flexible with you if you’re flexible with me!

[folkelorde]

hey there we would love your opinion on our roleplay! apocalypsesuiterp is based on the comic book series/netflix series The Umbrella Academy! we are a discord group that is accepting canon/original characters into the pre-apocolypitic world of The Umbrella Academy! we're not quite open as we still need 6 more applications, but really any and all feedback is appreciated! thank you!! - Admin Steph

yes, ofc, i loved umbrella academy ! keep in mind that my opinion is simply that…my opinion ! everything i say is meant to be constructive and helpful and if you have any questions about anything, feel free to follow up ! please keep in mind that i’ve never done a traditional discord group rp , so my opinion may not completely reflect the etiquette, but i tried my best.

first impressions. for some reason, i got the impression that this might be an indie blog at first? maybe just the length of the url + the icon, then the promos you have posted are typical of the indie promo aesthetic, so is the theme. when you go on the page, there’s nothing that really says “rp” to me, but i honestly don’t know the general aesthetics of a discord rp main that people would expect. 

plot. this plot is definitely only accessible to those who know the show, but i imagine that is your intended audience. however, i would suggest giving some clear context: did the events of the show take place? where on the timeline are we? where are the hargreeves siblings at the start of this plot? how do the ocs get involved/learn of the hargreeves/join in on the fight? in general, i have a lot of questions about how this will work and play out and with a show that has so many timelines, you have to make it clear. it’s also important for people with original characters to understand their place in the plot, otherwise they won’t last or things can get confusing. additionally, since you’ll be playing eudora, it begs the question: do all ocs have to be gifted children? can there be characters outside of that, like characters in the organization that hazel and chacha work for, etc? 

graphics and theme. as i mentioned, nothing about this really screams “rp” to me. i would suggest getting a new theme that doesn’t make the images so small. it also makes the text size extremely small. i definitely recommend upping the text size and maybe changing the background so that there’s more going on or even centering the container. you could also try to find a theme that allows for some more text on it, since it’d be nice to let people know that this is a discord-based rp right off the bat! you could put that in the nav main with the general TUA intro. but generally, everything on this rp looks pretty small for the reader.

other stuff. 

most people don’t know how to discord rp, ESPECIALLY in a group. it’s nice that you’ve provided a little tutorial, but i can already see that it’s different than how i have done it. i suggest doing further tutorials or providing a little example thread? and do people rp in the dms or all on the server? more stuff like that.

when playing a canon character, can people use a different fc than on the show? i would address that question, perhaps in your rules, and most people have questions about “banned” fcs in general, so maybe “faceclaims” in general is a good idea for your rules section.

right now you have only a few wanted characters listed. i’d suggest adding some wanted fcs too, for people interested in ocs. 

[animuras]

“ Accepting friend requests! “

❝ You know, I think our personalities are really compatible! Why don’t we take this opportunity to sit down and get to know each other? ❞

This is a plotting / relationships call

Before we start:

For those unfamiliar with the canon, I have a write up of the story here: [x]

Please read over the guidelines here [x] as well.

Obviously, give his app [x] and stats [x] page a read

If you are not familiar with Tokyo Ghoul, the first thing to know is that its chock full of disturbing and potentially triggering material. It’s impossible to list out every single thing that may show up, but if there is anything off limits for you at all, please let me know in a DM before we start plotting and threading. I can try to avoid some, but not all, of the content found in the manga when threading with you.

If you have any further questions, please DM me.

Alright. Onto the actual post:

This is a plotting/relationships call. I’m looking for people for this rotten fruit to interact with more than just in passing and to maybe develop into some kind of meaningful connection for him for once in his life. Not an easy task, and thus not something just any muse will be fit for.

What you need to know about him:

     ☻     He goes by many names, and could introduce himself as any one of them. None of them are necessarily aliases or his real name.

    ☻     He’s got many layers of metaphorical masks. Sometimes he sticks to one carefully constructed one for an entire relationship, other times he switches between them rapidly. Any attempts to get to know the “real” him is going to be very difficult. Most people will not be able to even crack the surface, even with the canon point he’s from - maybe the most open to such a thing he’s ever been in canon. It takes a very perceptive character who knows a good deal about him to figure these sorts of things out, and he will not necessarily react well if they do.

    ☻    In fact, there isn’t much of a “real” self to find. He doesn’t have a very solid sense of identity. He’s not the most stable person, and due to his canon point even less so. That said control is very important to him, over himself especially, and for the most part he keeps this in. But it’s absolutely there, and Mun would LOVE to get to the point where it starts leaking out. (What sort of mun doesn’t love giving their characters breakdowns?)

    ☻     Furuta has a very low opinion of people in general and human nature. (He’s inclined to think of any non-humans as just as human in this regard unless he’s very clearly proven otherwise. In his world, ghouls were systematically dehumanized and treated as completely non-human but he knows first hand that that was just a calculated lie, so he’s likely to assume the same of your non-human muse.)

    ☻     Furuta is not a nice person, unless he’s pretending to be one. He’s snarky and prone to noticing, calling out, and often exploiting any weaknesses, complexes, or hypocrisies in anyone he interacts with. He’s very good at reading people and using that to get what he wants.

    ☻     He’s cynical, rude, nihilistic, mocking, and often more than a bit childish or silly. Unless he’s pretending not to be.

Who might be able to form a relationship with such a guy?

    ☻     Shared backstory element: Furuta was born to be a child soldier in a morally abhorrent breeding experiment, doomed to die young. If that echoes your muse’s backstory in any way, eventually, after a while, this might come to light and allow some modicum of connection to form. Bonus points if your muse has the same sort of reaction and feelings about this. But he also might be doubly harsh on anyone like this, especially if they have a different approach or reaction to their situation. So be warned.

    ☻     Shared outlook: Furuta is a clown. He laughs because what else can one due at such a terrible world. He’s cynical, misanthropic, and nihilistic and very aware of the performative aspects of society, its structure, and the narratives people live by. Does this sound like your muse? They might get along.

    ☻     Shared motivations and strategy: Furuta plays personas and slides easily from one role to another, being whoever he needs to be to get what he needs.  Furuta’s ultimate goal was to play the villain and do all the nasty work it took to completely crack open and topple the corrupt world order. To break everything so horribly warped and rotten, even if it meant giving up his humanity and being hated. He did this all with a laugh and a smile. He’s not necessarily going to get along with any freedom fighter or revolutionary - and might actually clash harder with them because of their differing worldviews and strategies, but that sort of thing is also fun.

    ☻     Other sorts of characters: We can always try? If you have an idea you think might work for this guy, my DMs are open. Any well-intentioned reformers be wary. I’m not against the idea of letting your muse try, but I’m going to be keeping things realistic with his responses to your efforts, which is to say, probably fighting it every step of the way. That, too, could be fun, though.

    ☻     Types of Relationships:

This is the tricky part. Furuta isn’t really looking for relationships of any kind. He has no active schemes (yet) so he has no need to gather more pawns and toys to play with. He’s most likely to interact with someone he can get something out of, some kind of information or access or entertainment. Have some sort of game or scheme or show for him? That might be a place to start. Looking into some hidden truth? That might peak his interest as well. Or maybe they just get to talking and keep running into each other. Who knows. If you have an idea, let me know and we can plot that out.

    ☻     Shipping:

I’m not opposed to it, if you can make an argument for it. He’s far more likely to go into something sexual than something romantic, and is unlikely to be exclusive. If you want to try for more than that, we can talk it over? (Both muse and mun are in their mid/late-20s and nsfw is not off the table, if it comes to that.)

    ☻     The TL;DR is that I’m up for plotting, and if you like this post, I’ll shoot you a message, but Souta-kun is a tough nut to crack and not every muse is gonna be able to make this work. They might not, and that’s okay, we can either pass on it or try a more casual thread.

 If you like this post, I am also going to assume you have either a knowledge of the canon or have at least read the summary provided so you know the sort of things you are getting into here. Obviously, if you have read it and you still have questions, please feel free to DM. 

If you prefer just a casual thread, my DMs are always open for requests, but this is not a starter call, so this isn’t the post to like for that.

I’ll do my best to message anyone who response ASAP, but please be patient if it takes a while. Thanks!

[akatdollie]

RULES

On the Muses -

    Sasori is a puppet master with sociopathic tendencies. You will often find him in his puppet studio converting human beings into specimens in his collection. Body horror, suspense, and general creepiness is to be expected, and will be tagged accordingly.

    Sasori is prickly and rude at worst, and extremely disinterested at best. Please be patient with him, as he will not warm up to most right away. If you want him to be gentle or soft, please DM to plot out something with the Mun.

    ♔   . ♔   . ♔

     The Third is a king who was raised to think he was a god. He has the ego of one, and the schedule of three busy bodies. Interested in strategy, history and philosophy, he will occasionally participate in fiery debates, and is not afraid to play the devil’s advocate. His bloodline is cursed with an early death, and, without intervention, will die no matter the AU. This will be tagged accordingly.

     The only holy thing this blog recognizes is eternal art, so please - no god modding.

On the Mun -

Basic Info: Mun has no pronoun preference. Use whatever you like. 

Shipping: Mun is open to almost all pairings where characters have chemistry. 

Sasori/Deidara, Sasori/Orochimaru: 🚫

Noncon and domestic abuse: 🚫

NSFW: Mun is 21+. Will write 18+ ships with 21+ RP partners. 

Interactions -

Unless otherwise discussed, Mun usually answers queries assuming that the relationship between characters is that of canon. Muses will interact and ship with everyone, so long as they are compatible. Friendships, rivalry and hateships are also sought after!

     Style: Paragraph/Prose, usually present-tense.      Length: Match quality not word count.       Asks: 

Put IC dialogue in quotes.

Indicate applicable verses, muse(s) and/or characters. 

If not specified, Mun will choose whatever is inspiring.

    Mutual RP Blogs: ❤️     Non-Mutual RPers: ❤️     Non-RP Blogs: ❤️     Likes & Reblogs: ❤️

All likes are good likes.

Ask before reblogging an RP thread.

Anyone can reblog posts in which Mun is OP. 

    OCs, Alts, Rare and Crossover Characters: ❤️

Please DM a VERY detailed bio prior to interacting. 

   Over-Projection & Kins: 🚫    Callouts/Vagueposts: 🚫

   ♔   .   ♔   .   ♔

FAQS:

      Who are you?

I go by “Akat” on my roleplay Tumblrs, @akatdollie, @akatdeity, and @slcklecell.

If you know my fandom main do not mention it to others, please.

      Are you affiliated with Akatzombie?

No. Akatzombie—though my friend—is run by another wonderful, talented mun.

      Why didn’t you follow me back?

First, this is a side blog. I may have followed you back from my main, “akatsings”. You do not have to follow that blog for me to interact with yours.

Second, I don’t automatically follow back. If I do, I may unfollow at will—nothing against you, I just aim to keep my dash focused for my muses.

Third, if you don’t see akatsings in your follower list, don’t worry! I still answer casual asks (ooc and easy interactions) from anyone, both rp and non-rp blogs.

      How selective are you in general?

I will not respond in detailed prose to any rare, crossover, or OC character without an easy to find biography/intro. I am not researching your muse. That is not fun—it’s homework.

OOC and headcanon asks are fine, though.

I will not answer shipping, violent, or sexual asks for anyone but my mutuals. Even then I only answer what inspires me.

The reason for this is that my muses tend to respond aggressively to unsolicited advances, and I don’t always feel comfortable answering in character.

I won’t thread for anyone but long-term friends or those who respect and understand the dynamics of my characters.

I reserve the right to determine who does and does not meet the above qualifications.

      How selective are you in shipping?

It usually takes me two to three sentences of a reasonable argument/AU to ship something, but I won’t do all the work to make it “happen.”

Further: Just because I generally ship something, doesn’t mean that I will automatically ship my muse with yours. Different muns have different portrayals and different writing styles for the same muses; sometimes these portrayals click. Other times they don’t.

      What if my character doesn’t meet yours in canon?

That’s fine! Just ask or dm me with how you want them to interact (friends? Rivals? Comrades? Etc), plus a scenario where they do meet, and I will tell you how my muse will react in that situation, and then we’ll move on from there.

      What if I want to make an AU for our muses?

Same as above! Give me an idea and we’ll talk about it.

I generally have a lot of open-ended verses that I adapt to fit other people’s muses and ideas. You are free to propose a variation on them, or another verse entirely. However, I won’t be doing all the work in order to get our characters to meet, interact and like/dislike each other—that’s unfair, and too much work on one mun.

If you’re having trouble, start with— “I really think it’s cool if X and Y character—“ etc. Or how you think our characters would work together.

      What if I accidentally break a rule of yours?

If you’re a mutual, I will take a screenshot of the rule and kindly remind you to abide by them. If you’re a stranger, I will automatically soft block or block, depending on how badly the rule was broken and how uncomfortable I feel. 

I don’t make these rules to be mean, but to save the time and energy of us all. So if these rules are disregarded, then we will have to cut our losses. I will unfollow when I feel like someone has not read my rule page, and not be inclined to interact.

If you’re unsure if you have broken a rule, please politely ask. I don’t bite really.

      How do I interact with you more?

Send! 👏 More! 👏 Asks!

OOC, or IC, I promise to return the favor.

      Can I have your discord ID?

Maybe! This is reserved for long-term friends / mutuals that respect my characters. 

If you are one of these people, do not give my ID out without asking, please.

    ♔   .   ♔   .   ♔

Thank you for reading my rules! I will extend the same courtesy to you, and will be reading your blog information prior to following or interacting.

Note: Mun works eight to six job Monday through Friday, in addition to running several sideblogs, so replies may be slow. Feel free to poke them if you haven’t heard from them in a while.

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