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sokkas-sword · 3 years

Text

flickers (chapter four)

sokka x female reader

summary: the group land in the swamp, separated from appa and momo, and with tensions still running high, they all struggle to work together to get out of the swamp, especially with all the mysterious things that keep occurring

warnings: blood, death/mentions of death, swearing, panic attack and just some trauma in general really ,, also my writing is really rusty so sorry about that

wc: 4.1k

masterlist

prologue --- chapter three -- chapter five

a/n: ive actually written something!!!! sorry about taking so long to get a new chapter out (hell idek if people want to read this anymore its been so long) but my exams were awful and i spent so much time preparing for them so i hadnt had time to write and then after i was finished i needed some time to recover mentally - but i now dont have uni again til september and currently have no job so hopefully i’ll be able to write a little more (if people are still interested in this that is) // anyways enjoy!

As they passed through the canopy, she could feel the branches and leaves scratching her body, but before she could complain too much she and the others landed, or crashed should she say, into the swampy water.

Sokka moaned beside her and she agreed with his sentiment - this swampy water wasn’t the most pleasant thing she’d come across and she was really starting to think that these kids were bad luck; but at least this time she wasn’t badly injured.

Aang was the first to recover, although he had used his airbending to float down into the water so he wasn’t soaked to the bone with disgusting swamp water like the rest of them.

She watched Aang jump up into the canopy to look for their animal companions that had not crash-landed with them, leaving behind the awkward tension between her and the water tribe siblings - in hip deep swamp water - could her day get any worse? Not wanting to risk the siblings talking to her, not that they seemed inclined to, she began looking around the area, keeping the sibling’s chatter as background noise.

“Sokka you’ve got an elbow leech.” She heard Katara point out to her brother, she turned around to witness him screeching as he tried to remove it and y/n couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, earning her a scowl from the water tribe boy in question. Luckily before anything else could be said Aang swung back down from the canopy, a dejected look on his face.

“You couldn’t find them?” Katara asked.

“No, and the tornado has seemed to just disappear as well.”

This news was worse, and weirder in her opinion, a weird silence settled over the group as they looked into the trees surrounding them, darkness on all sides.

They began walking through the trees, Sokka up front chopping the vines that blocked their path with his machete and y/n bringing up the rear, her sword in hand in case anything happened - something felt wrong here and she didn’t like it one bit.

“We should speed things up.” Sokka announced to the group, slicing through a particularly large group of vines.

“Maybe we should be a little nicer to the swamp.” Aang said as his eyes darted around.

She stopped listening to their conversation as something in the corner of her eyes moved.

She stopped in her tracks, her eyes not leaving the spot where she was confident something had moved - but there was nothing there other than the trees and vines that already surrounded them. This stop had caused the others to walk further away than she realised, so she took one last look into the darkness before increasing her pace to catch up with them. Huh, they didn’t even notice me fall behind - not that I blame them Sokka is busy killing plant life and Aang and Katara are busy telling him not to, she can handle herself anyway.

Y/n agreed with Aang and Katara on this, this place was unlike anything she had ever experienced before, and after the movement she was positive she saw and the feeling of eyes on them, she was sufficiently creeped out. Not that she would voice these opinions of course - she was new to the group and the water tribe siblings still didn’t trust her, or like her yet actually, and she didn’t want to make this experience any more tense.

Walking through the swamp was exhausting and it was completely dark by the time they started slowing down, still no Appa and Momo in site, and she wished she could use her bending for a light source, just so she could see if something was hiding in the darkness. But she wasn’t ready to reveal herself as a fire bender yet, you didn’t have to be a genius to know it wouldn’t go down well with any of the others - including Aang who didn’t seem to hate fire benders as much as the other two, but he definitely didn’t like them.

“Appa! Momo!” Katara shouted into the darkness, but much like the rest of their journey there was no response.

“There’s no way they can hear us and no way we can see them,” Sokka turned around to face the rest of them, “We’ll have to make camp for the night.”

Her pleasant thoughts of finally getting a chance to rest as he said this were interrupted by a weird swamp-gas cloud that popped next to them. Agni this place somehow just kept getting worse and worse.

“It’s just swamp gas Katara,” Sokka looked at his sister who was looking more nervous by the second, “nothing supernatural at all.”

That seemed to relax the group a little, beginning to walk to find somewhere suitable for camp, y/n beside Sokka and in front of the other two with no one saying a word. But of course in this spirits awful place the silence didn’t last long as a blood curdling screech interrupted the dark swamp. Without thought, all four of them latched on to each other in fear, before the swamp went silent once again.

It took a second for her to centre her breathing and calm down, and in this time she noticed the death grip her and Sokka had on each other’s hands. They briefly looked at each other before quickly letting go, and Aang let go of her arm on her other side as she stepped away, coughing awkwardly as she avoided Sokka’s gaze.

“Um I think we should build a fire.” She spoke for the first time in hours and the others all nodded their heads, still a little disturbed by whatever that screaming was.

It didn’t take long for Sokka to chop up some of the roots for the fire, even with Aang still warning him about harming the plants. But for the first time since getting here, she didn’t care that she agreed with Aang, instead she wanted a fire to see their immediate surroundings and she knew with her element near her she would feel more comfortable in this horrible place.

They were all sat around the fire when she spoke up again, “Just curious, but is it always this weird when you’re travelling or is this like some horrid anomaly?”

The others looked at her and then each other before shrugging. Wow what a useful and informative answer, thanks so much guys for putting me at ease. She rolled her eyes at the trio before returning her attention to the fire in front of her - focusing on the way the flames moved always made her feel more at ease, and she definitely needed that in this swamp.

“Does anyone else get the feeling we’re being watched?” The water bender asked the group, nervously looking into the darkness behind her.

“Please we’re all out here alone.” Sokka responded once again, adamant that this place was not as alive as the others kept suggesting. Well not all of them he realised, their new companion had barely said a word since they were sucked into this damn swamp by that freak tornado - and despite himself wishing he didn’t care at all about her - he couldn’t help but wonder if she was holding up okay as she was less used to these weird avatar adventures than the rest of them.

He glanced over at her to check but she didn’t seem to even be paying attention to the conversation, she just sat staring at the flames, their movement reflected in her golden eyes. But before he could study her anymore - not because she was pretty, no definitely not that, it was because she was their natural enemy and he didn’t know if he trusted her yet, yeah that was it - a bug flew at his face, interrupting his thoughts.

As he tried to hit the bug to get it to leave him alone it enveloped itself in a bright light, unfortunately illuminating the hundreds of glowing eyes surrounding them. They all huddled closer together, y/n whispering to him from her position by his shoulder, “What was that about being here alone?”

He turned to scowl at her, but didn’t say anything as he, admittedly, was a little freaked out about the entire ordeal.

———

The four of them slept with their backs pressed together, facing out to the rest of the swamp in case something happened - but this didn’t stop the vines that wrapped around their bodies and pulled them in separate directions.

She was jolted awake as the vines pulled her away from the group, and she was glad her sword was in reach for her to cut at the vines that had a strong hold on her body. She dropped to the ground with a groan, not having a chance to recover before more vines shot towards her; it was times like this where she was thankful for her fast reflexes and skill as she cut any that got near to her.

As she defended herself against the plants, she tripped and tumbled down into the swamp water, where the vines finally stopped their bombardment against her.

But now there was a new problem - she had no idea where she was or where the others were, and despite all her training she didn’t know what to do.

———

She walked for what felt like forever before her mysterious surroundings revealed something to her. But it was not something she was expecting.

There was a woman in front of her, she couldn’t see her face as she was facing the other direction but she knew who she was - it was instinct to recognise your own mother.

The woman was wearing red and gold robes that related to the fire nation, except these ones were reserved for the more important families, ones who had money and the respect of the Fire Lord. Her pitch black hair cascaded down her back, so unlike what she was used to seeing - her entire childhood her mother had never worn her hair down, it was always in some fancy up-do that y/n wished she had the skill to replicate.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts and observations, she took a step towards the woman - her mother - and tried to call out to her, gaining no response. Her mother was dead, she knew this, but she still continued walking towards the woman. The hope of possibly seeing her face for the first time in two years reminded her of emotions she hadn’t acknowledged in years - the love her mother gave her when she had disappointed father again and been punished for it, the security she experienced when she would hold her close when she had nightmares about her brother dying, the emptiness she felt when her mother finally succumbed to the sickness that had held a grip on her for months. All of these emotions and memories came flooding back to her and by the time she was directly behind her, there were already tears falling down her face.

Shaking, she lifted her hand up and placed it on her mother’s shoulder, who finally turned to look at her - but it was no longer her mother.

She fell to the floor, scrambling backwards through the shallow swamp water, her heart pounding in her ears as she looked into the eyes of the the man she had killed before running away - the one who haunted her dreams. His neck was coated in blood from where she had directed her blade and as she struggled to breathe, he lifted his hand up to point at her, and in his last breath he shouted “murderer!” before disappearing into the swamp fog.

It didn’t matter that he had now vanished, y/n couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think - her thoughts were too much, she wanted to push down the emotions that had risen with the appearance of her biggest regret but her mind didn’t respond to her, she could feel tears run down her face but she couldn’t move to wipe them away. It was all too much. She couldn’t breathe. She was a monster.

———

Sokka hated this swamp. First they lost Appa and Momo; then the weird glowing eyes; next the vines kidnapping them; and now he had seen Yue. Well ‘seen’ wasn’t necessarily the right word in his opinion, it was a simple trick of the light in this already creepy swamp, that’s all - absolutely nothing else.

So, despite being a little shaken up from the ‘Yue' incident, he continued on through the thick vines, hoping to get a glimpse of one of his companions.

Before long he heard something that stood out from the other swamp sounds - almost like someone was crying.

Rushing towards the noise, he was surprised to come across y/n sat in the water, her knees pulled up against her with her head resting on them as she dug her nails into her skin, the light sobs were interrupted with a choking sound as she tried to breathe.

Sokka shook himself out of his shock and ran towards her, falling into the water so that he could face her and try and get her attention. She didn’t even look up, instead just kept trying to inhale and failing to do so. Shit.

It didn’t take him long to realise she was having a panic attack - Katara used to have them after their mother died but this was seemingly worse than what he had helped his younger sister through, and he prayed to all the spirits that his method of calming her down worked on the newest addition to their group too.

“Hey can you look at me?” He grabbed her hands, trying to get her attention in any way as well as preventing her from digging her nails into her palms as there was already blood dripping into the murky swamp water they sat in.

She finally looked up at him, her eyes wide when she noticed him before he and in between her failed breaths she gasped out, “Can’t … breathe.”

“Okay, we can fix that okay?” He tried to smile at her as she nodded her head slightly, “Alright I need you to to try and breathe on my count okay?”

Another nod, “Good, breathe in for 5 seconds with me.”

Sokka breathed in with her following his instructions before repeating the process until her breathing was closer to what it normally would be.

“You’re doing great, now tell me something you can see.”

“Your face.” Her voice was raspy when she spoke but Sokka didn’t care, he was just glad that he was making progress.

“What about something you can feel?”

She took in a deep breath before looking down at their intertwined hands, relaxing the tight grip she had on him “Your hands.”

“You’re doing amazing y/n, tell me something you can smell.”

Her breathing was basically back to normal and the tears had stopped by the time she provided him with an answer, “The nasty swamp water.”

Sokka let out a breathy laugh at her answer, smiling as he gently wiped the tears off her face.

“Yeah it doesn’t smell great. Are you, um, feeling better now?”

She nodded, removing her still shaky hands from his grip, avoiding his eyes.

They sat in silence for a few minutes when she finally spoke up, “I’m, uh, sorry you had to see that, normally I have better control.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad I could help.”

Light finally seeped through the tall canopy above them, giving Sokka the kick he needed to start moving again, desperate to find the others so they could get the hell out of this place.

“Alright,” he stood up and held out a hand to the fire nation girl, “I don’t know about you but I’m ready to leave this disgusting swamp.”

A small chuckle escaped her as she gripped his hand to pull herself up, and despite still being a little shaky, the worst of the panic attack seemed to have passed. Still a little embarrassed that Sokka had seen her like this, at her weakest, she avoided his worried gaze and started walking in what was hopefully the direction of their other companions.

Before they got too far, she turned to face him, giving him a small smile, “thank you, by the way,” and continued on, not seeing the small smile that had formed on the older boy’s face.

———

It didn't take long for them to find the others - or perhaps the others found them as Aang had tackled Katara into them - the four of them finally coming to rest on a large tree root.

“What do you guys think you’re doing?!” Sokka shouted, waving his hands around, “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Y/n coughed from where she was sitting next to Aang, grabbing the water tribe boy’s attention.

“Right. We’ve been looking all over for you.”

She flashed a self-satisfied smirk at him before returning her attention to Aang.

“I was chasing some girl.”

The three of them all looked at the Avatar, confused on what he was talking about.

“What girl?”

“I don’t know.” He moved to help Katara up, as y/n stood as well, “I heard laughing and I saw a girl in a fancy dress.”

Right, this place and group just keeps getting weirder. What have I gotten myself into?

“Well there must be a tea party here and we just didn’t get our invitations.” she rolled her eyes at Sokka’s attempt to dismiss what Aang had seen, but she had seen something too - not that she was thinking about it again, nope bad idea.

There was a sadness in Katara’s voice when she spoke that y/n knew all too well, “I thought I saw Mum.”

“Have you forgotten that the Fire Nation killed your mother?” She hadn’t really thought back on the argument between Jet and Sokka she had heard all those months ago but now it all properly clicked into place for her. There were lots of reasons why they didn’t trust her she was sure but a death of a mother was a different kind of hurt that she knew all too well. And it was the Fire Nation’s fault.

“Look,” Sokka began, “we were all just scared and hungry, and our minds were playing tricks on us. That’s why we all saw things out there.”

“Wait you saw something too?”

He turned away from his sister when he spoke, “I thought I saw Yue.”

She had no idea who this Yue was, but the sadness in his voice when he spoke was indication enough about what had happened to her. Her heart went out to this small group that had let her join them - they had been through so much pain, and she wished she could fix it. But she was Fire Nation, and everyone knew Fire Nation didn’t fix things. They destroyed them.

“Look it doesn’t mean anything,” he continued, pulling her out of her thoughts, “I think about her all the time. And you saw Mum, someone you miss a lot. And y/n, you saw-“

He trailed off, realising he didn’t know what she saw. But it didn’t matter now, all of three of them had turned their attention onto their newest member, her shoulders stiff as she looked at the ground.

“Wait, y/n, did you see something as well?” Aang asked, brow furrowed as she clenched her fists at her side.

After a few seconds of silence she looked up, “Uh yeah, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

She caught Sokka’s eye where she was surprised to see genuine concern for her. Maybe after this ordeal she’ll be able to gain his trust and possibly even friendship.

“Okay,” the avatar gave her one last look before addressing the others again, “well what about me? I didn’t know the girl I saw. And all of our visions led us right here.”

Looking around at their surroundings, it didn’t take long for them to notice the huge tree towering above them. The centre of the swamp.

“It’s been calling us here.” Aang turned to smile at the others, glad he was right about what he felt.

That good feeling did not last long though, and soon the small group was staring up at a giant figure made of vines looming above them.

They scattered in different directions.

She held her sword in one hand and dagger in the other, skilfully cutting all vines that aimed at her. Although she was not successful in her standoff with the swamp monster for long though, it grabbed her legs, tossing her into a nearby tree with a grunt. The sharp pain and small sensation of liquid on her neck was all she needed to know that she had, once again, been injured.

For Agni’s sake this is getting ridiculous, I’m going to look like I can’t look after myself and that’s just embarrassing, she thought to herself as she slowly stood up, looking for where the trio and weird plant monster had gone.

It took longer than she’d like to admit to find them all again, but with the ways things had gone in the last day or so she shouldn’t have been surprised when she not only found that they had defeated the monster without her help but also there was now a weird man standing in the vines that must have composed the monster in the first place. Was she the only sane one here? Did they not realise how weird this was?

“-and I heard something calling to me, telling me to land.” She managed to catch the tail end of Aang talking as she approached the group from behind.

“He’s the avatar. Stuff like that happens to us a lot.” Sokka told the man, Katara frowning at her when she came to stand next to her.

“The Avatar? Come with me.”

Before she could follow the man, Katara grabbed her wrist, pulling her to a stop.

“Where have you been?!” She hissed, “Was it your plan all along to leave us to fight the first assailant we met in hopes we’d die? Perhaps that would make your beloved fire nation proud of you. Helping kill the Avatar must be reward worthy.”

Too shocked to respond to the water bender’s accusations, she just blinked at her.

“Well?” Her arms were crossed as she glared at her, her foot tapping against the tree root they stood on.

“Uh I was actually incapacitated,” she quickly showed the cut on the back of her head, Katara’s eyes widening at the sight of blood, “But thanks so much for assuming the worst about me, it means a lot.”

Turning on her heel, y/n began following the others, the fire inside her burning brighter at the anger Katara’s words had caused.

“Do you not want me to heal the cut?” Katara offered from behind her, and when she whirled around to face her, she was surprised to see the guilt on the girl’s face. Guilt, however, didn’t make what the waterbender had said any better.

“No, I think I can manage treating it myself.”

She went to catch up with the others again but stopped to say one last thing, “Katara, I would like to belong in this group with you guys as my friends who trust me, so I don’t appreciate you assuming that I would betray you after promising to help fight the Fire Nation. It is dishonourable to go back on my word and beliefs, so if you don’t trust me, at least trust that I want to stop the Fire Nation.”

Nodding her head after saying her piece she left to catch up with the others, leaving a stunned Katara behind.

———

After the events of the day, Sokka was glad to be sat down eating something, the possum-chicken settling nicely in his stomach as the swamp benders told them stories about the way they lived.

Despite the joyful energy around the campfire, there was a new tension between his sister and y/n that wasn’t there before and he wanted to do something to fix it but didn’t know how. So instead he listened to their new acquaintances talk and watched the Fire Nation girl play with Momo from the corner of his eye, a small smile gracing his lips at the sight.

taglist: @kaylove12 @bestyearsof5sos @neemonroe @aangsupremacy @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @lizziel1410 @idalinette @jasminedrgon @avocados-and-lemons

strikethrough means i couldnt tag you :( ,, ive kept the same taglist from before but because its been so long yous might not be interested anymore - if thats the case just tell me and i’ll remove you from it :)

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sharkneto · 2 years

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hi! youre one of my favorite authors and i was hoping I could get some writing advice from you. i felt inspired by tua s3 and plotted out some ideas for a fic i would like to write (ive never written one before) and im stuck on how to start writing. how did you begin writing multichapter fics? is there any advice or tips you could share?

First of all, thank you! Very kind of you to say and I'm so glad you enjoy my fics so much! And how great you're inspired! Writing came out of left-field for me, to become a hobby, but it's been a great ride and I have a lot of fun doing it.

Advice, though... The main thing I'm going to say is a cliche, which is Just Do It. The hardest step is starting, when you're just staring at that blank page. Any words at all to start breaking that up. Throw 'em up there. They don't have to be good, you can make them good later. Especially if you haven't written before, you don't really know what you're looking for, what your flow is, what your style is, and you do not and should not know right when you start. That's what editing is for. Right now, your only goal is to be trying to turn whatever is in your head into words you can read, and then come back and tweak to shape more into that thing in your head. Just throw words on a page and see what sticks. That's all that writing really is, anyway.

Along with that, though, I think it's important to be writing For You. I won't say it isn't a lot of fun to post works, to get kudos and comments and reader interactions (because it IS, it is so much fun), but you are going to burn out if that's the only thing you're writing for. For me, my first... Four? Five? fics were just fun little for-me projects to fill time. Now, 3/5 of those have been shared (Joining Together, Holding It Together, and the first Christmas fic), but those all started as things that were never going to see the light of AO3 (the other two still aren't - they just aren't projects I'm interested in editing up or finishing to share, and that's ok). You are your target audience, though, so write what it is you want to read, what you enjoy, and then if you happen to share them, odds are there are people who would also enjoy them. If you aren't enjoying what you're writing then what's even the fucking point. And if you stop enjoying while in the middle of a long project, that's ok - step back, take a break and come back to it, poke at some other plot bunnies, and return when you're excited and ready for it again. And if you never come back to it, that's fine, too. No writing is ever wasted because you had fun doing it and you got practice and got better because of it.

Last, how did I get into multichapter fics... Ngl, my first for-me projects were all multichapter, mostly for convenience because they were slice-of-life moments and had POV changes (JT, HIT). But the first things I actually shared were one-shots. Crueler to Remember was my first actual multi-chapter fic, and that was more because it was a one-shot that ran away from me and I retroactively cut it into chapters. I mentioned it in another ask I answered earlier that I'm on mobile so I can't link (but check the #entertain shark on his train trip tag to find it) about how I cut up chapters, and for the most part I don't really think in terms of chapters when I'm planning out a longer fic. It's more of a Long One Shot until I get in and feel out where natural breaks feel, where the natural ebb and flow of the action and such is happening for when a good spot to cut is. I'm sure that's not true for all writers, and that people who actually outline probably do have chapter numbers and contents planned out, but I am not one of those people. Don't worry too much about if you're writing is too short or too long for how long you thought it was going to be - it will be exactly as long as it needs to be and the end word count does not matter.

Where this is all coming to, I think, is do what feels good. Read other people's things to see what you like/don't like, read writing tips and rules if you want for technical prowess, but at the end of the day, just do what sounds good to you, what feels good to you. You're the one who's going to be reading it a million times as you work on and edit it, so if it's not a thing you enjoy, not a thing that sounds good to you, why are you doing that to yourself. The first words you put on the page you do not have to be married to - as you keep writing, you can go back and edit them or throw them out to write different ones because you got a better idea four pages later on how to start that but anyway. It's all a big experiment and the only way to do it wrong is to not do it.

#maybe thats helpful? idk hope something in there is useful for you :)#most importantly is to have fun! enjoy the experience and i look forward to reading whatever you write!#ficblogging #entertain shark on his train trip #writing #side note: it is wild to me that i am a person to ask writing advice from #it didn't really click until recently to me that i am actually a writer and i have written A Lot and that does mean i have experience lol

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garrothromeave · 4 years

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the hell is mystreet season 6??

(warning, long post ahead)

ok so before i start this

1) ive never posted shiiiit on tumblr before so watch me suffer, im just here to talk about stuff that my friends who dont know anything about aphmau have to listen to me rant about for hours on end

2) i havent seen mystreet in like years (except season 3, i watch that frequently since im laurance and shadow knight deprived) so please bear with me because i might be completely wrong on this lol. it’s just like, pointing out things i remember

3) im sure someones already talked about this but who cares

4) im gonna do this stupid thing where i just explain myself a bit at first, if you dont want to read that just skip to the part where you see “the actual thingy:” in bold and italics

5) mild disclaimer; i am completely aware that jessica is not a professional writer. i know that she did her best to appeal to her fans, and honestly, respect for that. while this post will come off as aggressive and probably look like hate, that’s not my intention in the slightest. it’s just... intense criticism. im sure y’all probably already know that, but yeah, just stating that anyways. i do believe that jess is doing her best, and in no way do i want to dismiss any hard work she’s done. that being said; prepare for a very strongly opinionated post.

haha watch there be 10000+ typos in this making me look like a complete dumbass

ok here we go

one of the main reasons i stopped watching aphmau back in 2017 was the mess that was season 4. like, in the first few episodes of the emerald secret, i thought “woah!! this is kinda cool, im a sucker for mystery!” because of course i was, it was something new and something exciting. the only problem i had with it at the time was kim, but that’s just because i always found her annoying and out of place. i just didn’t understand why garroth dragged her along and honestly i still don’t to this day BUT, moving on.

anyways, as the season progressed, 13 year old me was of course just “:0!!” the entire time--that is, up until the reveal of the main villain. i remember watching the episode, seeing the reveal of ein, and then stopping. like, just for a quick break, but i was still just overwhelmingly disappointed. like, and this was the time when pdh was airing and ein just got made alpha (i think?) and i had really really liked eins character in pdh. either way, that really sucked and actually opened my eyes to a lot of things.

one of the main things bein’ the fact that this was supposed to be a slice of life kinda series that decided to take a turn to a more edgy kinda approach. which, i guess i regularly wouldnt mind? but seeing as mcd was kinda bein neglected at the time it just didnt sit right with me. BUT WHATEVER, point is i stopped watching mystreet all together at the end of season 4.

like, a whole year later my brother tells me that shit’s getting intense in season 5 + 6 of mystreet, and my brilliant self decided to give it a shot--but i refused to watch all of season 5, so i only stepped in when ein made an appearance. so whenever that was, that’s where i picked up because i didnt care enough to see

and y’know--i honestly didn’t hate it at first. in fact, i found it oddly cool. it wasn’t enough to get me into aphmau again, but it was enough to where i was intrigued. i dont know why, but i never watched the finale, so i didnt see the ending until just a few weeks ago--but back then, i thought it was neat. looking back on it however... im just so confused.

side note: only got back into aphmau this time around because of mcd. mainly because like, i adore the first season and the first half of the second season. and being nearly 18 now, im a lot more appreciative of plot and well-written characters n junk.

the actual thingy:

ok back on track. imma stop spilling out my story of how i got back into aphmau, and lets just skip to what rewatching mcd made me realize of season 6′s plot and shit:

-emmalyn. how the fuck does ghost even remotely exist? if she’s emmalyn as claimed, then why have we already seen emmalyn in the mystreet universe alive? look i get that creators can do whatever they want with their stories but at the same time please provide some sort of explanation good god. and maybe they did and i just havent seen it, so if there is one--let me know. but until that day imma just sit here confused as fuck

-ok so imma just be real, the whole ‘ultima’ thing is just... not great. in my opinion, anyways. like... i saw someone mention this in another post, but if this ultima stuff was like, a really big deal, why isnt it mentioned in mcd? though i suppose since its a curse of sorts, it could be later on past the time period in which mcd takes place--but even then, how did it manage to make its way into aaron’s family bloodline?

-WHY IS EVERYONE AT STARLIGHT ITS JUST SO CONVINIENT like what happened to this place being the most expensive shit on the planet or whatever, and how the gang happens to run into like, the werewolf trio and blaze and kai and guy and nate all of these people like god damn life doesnt WORK LIKE THAT

-im sorry but turning people into relics? thats... thats the best you could come up with? plus, like, how does that even work? in mcd it’s established that relics are separate entitles that choose their wielder, based on a ‘personal’ connection (being a descendent of a previous wielder) or if they’re a good match personality and (i think?) moral wise. so the whole turning-people-into-relics doesnt make much sense to be honest.

-irene really over here using her god powers to only keep her friends alive like god damn not a great god if you ask me

-can i talk about how incredibly predictable aphmaus death was? like i just kinda sat there waiting for it to happen and when it did i literally went “haha! wonder when she’ll be revived” because god forbid we actually kill off characters

-when aphmau + demon warlock fought in the irene dimension there was no passage of time whatsoever in the real world whiiiiiiiiich really bothers me because they fought in there for at least a few minutes

-speaking of aphmau and the demon warlocks fight does it bother anyone else that it had to be aaron who took over the fight?? like we get it hes the big protector blah blah blah but god damn it wouldve been cooler if aphmau had fought this battle as her. aaron fighting this battle was so underwhelming

-...love. like, thats the only thing thats needed to break out of a forever potion? love? LIKE YEAH, GOOD GUYS GOTTA WIN SOMEHOW, but its just so cliche and overdoneeee

-oh yeah and also when travis went bonkers and became the demon warlock or whatever, why’d he only take over katelyn and garroth?? like, zane had been influenced by the potions in the past as well? DONT GET ME WRONG--i do love some good brother edge, but uh, the demon warlock was just bein kinda a dumbass by not possessing zane too just sayin’

-can aaron please go to fucking jail for mass murder now like holy shit, he just got sent home on a fuckin boat. also why did blaze forgive him for killing him thats not even remotely realistic. then again, nothing in mystreet has ever been realistic when it comes to characters and motives and personalities, (cough katelyn being actually abusive and travis being an actual pervert) but yknow whatever

-katelyn and kawaii chan literally added nothing to the plot whatsoever. like lets be real, katelyn lost her personality the moment season 5 started and kawaii chan just kinda sits there :I

-ok im sorry this was bound to come up but cmon guys imagine laurances potential if he was in season 6 like god damn this is beyond maddening. AND YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN A REALLY REALLY COOL PARRALLEL?? IF IT WAS LAURANCE WHO SNAPPED GARROTH OUT OF HIS MIND CONTROL THING, because it would mimic laurance’s speech to get garroth to snap out of his rage in season 1, episode 100 of minecraft diaries. like how fuckin rad would that have been? missed opportunity

-also?? why does kim/ghost know magicks?? like, if i remember correctly, emmalyn is a scholar--not someone who knew magicks. i mean, i guess research? study?? but its been established that knowing how magicks works =/= being able to use magicks. i dunno, just doesnt seem right i guess. maybe its explained, i wouldnt know (yes i know that makes me look like a dick leave me alone)

-melissa should have stayed dead. LIKE, NO, ITS NOT AS SIMPLE AS “haha it takes more than a few bullets to kill me”??? look ive got nothing wrong with melissa (cough lie cough) but yknow it would have just been cool a character... stay dead? for once? its just too fuckin cliche that shes alive god damn

-can i also just say the only good thing that came out of season 6 was travis’ dads sacrifice like damn that made me actually sad

-howww was lucinda turned into a relic. or yknow, anyone else? like im sure they explain it better in the actual show i just dont remember, but its just that easy? turning anyone into a relic? granted, a normal person wouldnt be able to produce a good relic, but idk man. IM JUST SAYING; that the only really powerful relics that aphmau should have been able to wield is the one that aaron + zane produced because shad relic and esmund relic moment. lucinda isnt even like, connected to a divine warrior. ALSO, another point, if its seriously that powerful of a relic getting one from just a magic user like lucinda, why go through the trouble? i mean i guess ofc youd want the “all powerful” one that the ultima produces but i mean damn whats the point

-ok this is just going to bother me but in one of the episodes (i think might have been in season 5 actually) where that like, guardian dude was chasing aphmau and zane and at one point they split up and the dude just chuckles at zane diverting paths and goes under his breath “youre not the important one here”, suggesting that aphmau somehow is? first of all, id argue that any ro’meave is significantly more important than aphmau was, especially not knowing much about her other than that shes with aaron. i might be missing some bits an pieces, but if i was that dude id forget about aphmau and go after zane

-killing off derek for shock factor sucked, and i know the moment was supposed to be really sad because like “oh :( aarons dad is sacrificing himself for his son” but lets be real dereks still was a shitty father and i dont think his reasons for doing what he did was very good at all

-less about plot or more like: why the absolute fuck did the gang bring kim along instead of, oh i dont know, a life-long friend? like, laurance or dante maybe?? im sure its explained, i never saw aphmaus year or most of season 5, but god DAMN id hate to be apart of this friend group AND GOD LIKE, imagine reconnecting with an old friend who ends up getting closer to your best friends and taking priority in their lives over you (cough laurance) like god damn lol

-im just going to preface this one with: i dont remember everything that’s happened, so if im wrong i apologize in advance--but (you actually can correct me if im wrong and please do) didnt like, irene reincarnate her friends in order to give them better lives? I DONT KNOW IF THIS IS TRUE, ITS JUST WHAT I REMEMBER--however, if im correct, then:

a. why the hell would she bring back someone like zane, or gene, or ivy, etc.

b. why the hell do they all have the same exact names? first and last? again, im aware that the whole mystreet+mcd tie wasn’t originally supposed to be there, but i dont think that means such a coincidence can be excused? its just a bit much if you ask me.

c. why the hell is the fact that (as much as i literally hate this) aaron is a decedent of shad being ignored? like, you’d think that something like this would be something thats actually important, or something the demon warlock couldve taken advantage of. or are we completely erasing every other connections to divine warriors besides aphmau + irene? because even if irene did reincarnate them or do whatever it is she did, does she even have the power to sever the connections between them and their ancestors? my guess is, no.

d. speaking of irene why on earth was aphmau able to talk to/see irene, they’re literally the same person are they not? did she like, fuckin reincarnate herself without actually doing it?? BUT--i will give it to them, the demon warlock did refer to aphmau as something along the lines of being “one of the 3 parts of her broken soul” or something like that. however, my point still remains. also what are the other two did i miss that or is it never explained

now; if irene in fact did not ‘reincarnate’ her friends then please ignore that little bit right there :)

but yes, those are a few of the problems i have with season 6 off the top of my head. i would go into like, season 4 and 5 more as well, but i honestly didnt feel like it. at some point i might go into other things, like how important laurance could have been to the plot of these later seasons, or HELL, even dante. i might also go into what could have made season 4, 5, and 6 actually good--maybe... a rewrite? perhaps? but im getting too far ahead of myself, so i just leave you with this for now.

and i know that as soon as i post this 15 more things are just going to pop into my head BUT im going to try and not edit this post because why stress myself with that even more

anyways thank you for coming to my tedtalk

#in conclusion i hate it here #lets go back to mystreet bein slice of life pls #anyways tune in next week for 'the hell is pdh??'#aphmau #mcd #mystreet #minecraft diaries #please ignore these next tags im just promoting relentlessly #garroth ro'meave #zane ro'meave #aaron lycan #kawaii chan #kim mystreet #laurance zvhal #pls i have no idea how to tag posts #rant

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pocmuzings · 4 years

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hello hi , it is g , ur friendly local neighbourhood hindu indian ( as in south asian ) ! so a few people requested that i just make a guide-esque sorta thing on hindu indian characters ! im not really good at guides , so instead , these are just little things i’ve noticed or picked up on that could really potentially strengthen the next indian character u ( pretty please ! ) pick up !

disclaimer : i am writing this from my perspective and it is NOT definitive , nor do i speak on behalf of all hindu indians ! i am a 23-year-old bisexual cis female hindu indian , with one older gay brother, and a Train Wreck middle brother . my mother is from new delhi , and my father is from nairobi but has indian heritage ( not sure which part of india bc he’s an Engima ) . i have extended family in india and have visited india about 10-15 times throughout my entire life .

so firstly , im so glad u all are here and want to write more hindu indian characters ! please please do so ! i hope this helps , encourages u , and isnt too confusing !!

psa : i need everyone to know that this is a very basic ‘ guide ‘ and theres a lot it DOESNT touch on or address bc i didnt want to get too Extensive and Detailed and have people Turn off and not Read it . this is just written in the terms of hopefully helping build character / be relevant to characters a bit better that ive employed into writing my OWN hindu indian character creations ! but if u have any other questions pls reach out to me or any other indians in the rpc and im sure we’ll try our best to assist u !

FCS:

one thing i’d really like to say is that its great to see fcs like dev patel , deepika padukone and avan jogia picked up every now and then in rps , but there’s actually a LOT of other indian fcs you could be and should be using ! the main reason people don’t seem to know them is because they’re not ‘ hollywood ‘ stars per se ( it was a super big deal when pr*yanka broke out of bollywood and into bollywood but we don’t talk about her on this Blog ) . they’re usually bollywood stars and i don’t really see bollywood discussed that much in the rpc !

if you’re after MORE indian fcs , i have a tag of indian females here , and indian males here . the fcs on my blogs are also not ALL that exist . there are plenty of other blogs out there that post indian fcs , such as sonamhelps & bollymusings !!! there’s also some really great faceclaim directories out there that include a LOT of indians with resources !

unfortunately , i do not know of any trans indians or nonbinary indians but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist . indian cultures and beliefs are still quite Old School and not super progressive . india only just had it’s first wlw mainstream bollywood film released last year . lgbtqia+ issues are NOT really spoken about in india or within indian families at ALL , and if they are - they’re usually dismissed or reacted to Very Very Badly . ( again this isnt definitive and im sure and hopeful that some indians have had GREAT coming out stories and been accepted by their families but this has not been a common thing ive seen or witnessed from my cousins my age , indian friends , myself and my brother who are lgbtqia + )

FOOD :

we do eat with our hands and we eat like PROS with our hands . we can shovel it so easily and quickly . i don’t know how to describe it but you use the first three fingers of your hand to place the Food there , and then use your thumb to kinda scoop it off and into your mouth . this is NOT unhygienic because indians wash their hands very regularly and most of the time we aren’t actually touching our mouths to our hands !

indian food is MADE to be eaten with your hands for the most part . it is literally NOT practical to eat food with a knife and fork . here’s a really great article explaining things more in depth re: indian food and using our hands !

cows are seen as Very holy beings in hindu indian culture , and for that reason - there isn’t a lot of beef being eaten or consumed. sure , some indians DO eat beef but i don’t think its super common, but in my personal experience as a non-beef-eater this results in A LOT of me asking ‘ oh , sorry what sauce does that pasta come with ? ‘ ‘ oh those are beef sausages ? sorry i can’t eat them ‘ etc etc . beef is in a LOT of things , and this makes me very very careful and almost pedantic about what i do eat and ask about , food wise !

indian food is seen as stinky by a majority of white people . it has a very very strong smell as im sure u know , and opening ur lunch box as a little kid to a Curry or Dal ur mum has made u ? one way street to being bullied . i also remember a time a real estate agent continuously told my dad nobody was interested in buying our house bc it smelled too much like curry, despite my mum not having cooked curry in Weeks ( just say what u Really mean , bitch ! )

indian curry exists but so does dal / daal . this is curry-like dish that is usually made out of lentils . so if ur going to talk about indian food and u know curries and samosas . . pls also bring up dals . and sabji ! ( sabji is usually just boiled vegetables plopped together . a lot of potato usually )

desserts are what we call Indian Sweets . this is stuff that is usually very VERY sugary and a bit of an accustomed taste . theyre very colourful and LOOK beautiful but even i , for one , can not eat many indian sweets bc they are a Lot of Sweet and Sugar . examples of indian sweets that u can google : gulab jamun , burfi , rasgulla , jalebi etc . here’s a great link for more !

give me spiced food or give me death . literally . . put some cumin in . . put some garam masala . . put some chillies . . flavour ur Food for my Indian Taste Buds

FAMILY :

if you are the oldest son of an Indian Family . . congratulations . you are now the Head of the family and must carry every weight and burden alone . it is extremely isolating and taxing on you ( my dad is the oldest indian son , and also - so is my eldest brother , obvs ) . there is a LOT that is expected of you to do . you are expected to quite literally run the family and be the ‘ man of the house ‘ by yourself .

if you are a daughter . . . even BIGGER congratulations ! you are basically a maid to every male or guest who EVER comes over to your house . you must be a Hostess , you must be in the kitchen cooking , serving snacks, bringing tea , and then washing up and basically waiting on Hand and Foot . you will not be included into a lot of dialogue or engaged in a lot of conversation and TRUST ME ! THAT WILL GRIND UR GOD DAMN GEARS IN THE 21ST CENTURY !

if you are a boys’ boy ( aka straight and Sporty ) , then congrats ! you get it the easiest : you are the favourite of every social event . the uncles and cousins love talking to you and dude-ing it up with you , and the aunts fawn over you and think you’re the Best Thing since sliced bread . sit back , put your feet up , and expect to be treated like a God. you can do absolutely no wrong . ( my middle brother is this to a T and listen . . he’s been in and out of jail for physical violence and ab*se for over 5 years . and family still FROTH over him . my teeth are gritted to dust thinking of this again )

indian aunties are lethal . they gossip like teenage girls . they will find out everything . they will bitch behind your back . they can NOT be trusted .

everyone is ur uncle or aunt, sister or brother . literally everyone . ur cousin ? no. thats ur sister . ur dads friend ? no , thats ur uncle . you will call them as such . EVERYONE is family .

family is in general a VERY BIG THING in indian culture , too . ‘ what will it Look like to everyone else if we don’t all arrive together ? ‘ my dad usually asks dskjdfjn . it’s all about Looking Right and Standing As A United Front . that being said , indian family has undying and unwavering loyalty for one another , they just show it in a very Weird way .

FASHION:

female hindu indian formal clothes are usually really embroidered to hell and back and this makes them very scratchy , uncomfortable, and HEAVY . you aren’t running anywhere anytime soon in a full blown lehenga or saree

most ‘ modern ‘ hindu indian women do not wear full Indian Clothes all the time . some do , but usually it’s a lot of wearing a kurti tunic with jeans , or just normal everyday clothing . again , this is going to be different based on which parts of india your character is from , though !

usually , older women and married women wear traditiona hindul indian clothing quite often . i know my mum wore a sari AT HOME everyday when i was growing up, until i was like 13 and took her shopping with me to get something Else to wear .

bindi’s just stick right onto ur forehead but they do fall off a lot , especially when ur wearing makeup or sweating . again , you don’t need to wear a bindi everyday , unless thats ur preference . i usually only wear them for festivals . ( festivals means indian celebrations , not like . . coachella ((which u should not be wearing a bindi to , if ur not indian fyi )) )

male formal clothes are usually just literally anything Formal and buttoned up for the most part , and u can get away with that , or you can wear a really nice kurta

indians wear white at funerals , not black ( not sure if this should go in the fashion section but this entire thing is being organised into a Mess by now anyways ) . you CAN wear black to a funeral of course , but its common to wear white !

DATING ( tw’s for islamaphobia ):

modern day indian / desi fuck boys exist and my god they are Something Else . hasan minhaj did a really good piece about this and explaining them to a T ( starts at 1:43 )

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT WILL MENTION ISLAMAPHOBIA AND HOMOPHOBIA ! ) basically according to Older indians , , ur dating options in 2020 go like this ( if ur a cis female like me ) : hindu indian men are god tier , white men are Not Okay But I Guess So Bc We Have To Accept They’re Everywhere , females / being lgbtqia+ is not Taken Seriously , and muslims are literally not even close to being an option or Accepted . again this isn’t definitive but based on a lot of indian media i’ve consumed and seen how they portray muslims in general as well as Dating Options , as well as talking to other indians , both who are older / traditional and hold these ideals , whereas Younger gens generally do NOT hold these ideals / actively are Against these backwards ideals. i remember when i was in year 6 and had my first boyfriend . . he was a muslim and my dad FLIPPED the FUCK out . it’s not even that i was dating someone / young / his only daughter . . it was mainly because i was dating a muslim . again , this is a very OLD SCHOOL and traditional way of thinking and it is NOT CORRECT . pls don’t take this as a note to be islamaphobic if u write an indian character bc . . thats literally the opposite of what im trying to tell u here .

yeah arranged marriages are definitely still a thing for us , even now in 2020

YES if u are an unmarried / single indian ( ESPECIALLY if ur a woman ) about to enter ur 30s . . ur in DANGER and u are the black sheep and theres probably something Wrong With You bc why are u still single ?

TRADITIONS / BELIEFS / SUPERSTITIONS :

idk if its just me and my family but we are SUPER superstitious . if you say anything like ‘ he hasnt gotten sick in years !’ immediately , everyone knocks on wood or their head . if you were planning on leaving the house and sneeze ? thats bad luck , stand and wait for five minutes then u can leave . we have a strong belief in drishti , or alternatively : The Evil Eye , and making sure we don’t invite it into our lives . a lot of our prayers are about warding drishti away .

the evil eye is kinda Complicated but basically its an ill-wishing upon an unsuspecting person . if somebody is jealous of you or angered by you , they may wish upon you or cast upon you the Evil eye ( or even just glare at u whilst ur not looking and thats Big Bad ) .

a lot of older indians , like older people in general i guess , are not super progressive or Open . this isnt ALWAYS the case but older indians can be very very stubborn in their beliefs in what is Right and Wrong , Normal and Not Normal

theres a LOT of hindu indian festivals and events ! tbh too many for me to even keep up with . but without fail at least once a year ill say to ONE of my friends ‘ oh sorry i cant make it . i have an indian Thing on that day ‘ and its usually about a festival , so pls be aware that there are a LOT of indian festivals and if ur writing an indian character , its perfectly understandable and Relatable for them to say they can’t make it to a party or hang out with their friends that night , for that very reason !

the main / most popular ( ? ) festivities that i personally do celebrate every year without fail are :

diwali ( the festival of lights , celebrating goddess lakshmi roaming the earth . in my household this is usually turning on literally every single light and lighting candles and fireworks / sparklers and saying some prayers , and eating a formal dinner all together ! )

holi ( the festival of colours . celebrating victory and love . again personally for me , this was usually celebrated at the temple with all of us Kids running around throwing paint on each other ! )

rakhi / raksha bandhan ( a day of sisters celebrating their brothers . you tie a rakhi which is usually a bracelet / holy string around your brothers wrist , feed them some food , pray for their wellbeing and in return they gift you something . in my case, i usually get money from them ) .

navratri / durga puja ( 9 nights and 10 days of celebrations but tbh u don’t have to do all the days . or i mean . . i don’t . i fast one day from morning to night and then i slide on over to boogie and dance dandiya which is literally the MOST FUN dance ever bc its based off some Historical Fight and u go faster and faster and keep going until ur absolutely SPENT bc u dont wanna lose ur place in the circle )

there are SO MANY HINDU INDIAN GODS too . and so many prayers to all of them and to just general Life Wellness . chances are that ur character will know at least ONE aarti / gazal / prayer off by heart and have sung it at least 30 times in a monotone voice . the ones i know off by heart bc ive had to sing them 3000 times ? om jai jagdish hare , & the gayatri mantra

GENERAL LIL THINGS I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO CATEGORISE ( tw’s for skin whitening , colorism and classism ) :

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT NEEDS A TW FOR SKIN WHITENING AND COLORISM ) lets hold indians accountable right now : we advertise SKIN LIGHTENING CREAM . i think they finally stopped that earlier this year / due to BLM ( i’m not entirely sure / could be wrong ) , but thats literally how bad it is , that we would openly advertise and encourage people to literally bleach their skin rather than look darker .

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT NEEDS A TW FOR COLORISM AND CLASSISM ) colorism is a BIG thing in india and usually linked to class . generally speaking , the people who are Darker Skinned are usually people who work outside / labourers or homeless even , and are therefore seen as lower class / bottom class . the lighter skin you have , the more privileged and advantaged you are bc ur seen as working a Good job out of the sun and having a home . it’s incredibly classist as well as just generally Fucked Up . why am i telling u this ? mainly so u understand the importance of using a dark skinned indian fc vs a light skinned indian fc which i know is hard , bc a lot of darker skinned indians arent in hollywood / have resources , but its still something to Think About .

i have a long Ethnic name . literally my first name is 10+ letters , which i know doesnt seem that long Necessarily but its also a Super Ethnic name with e’s and and j and n . it Flows and Sounds very clearly different from a christian name . it is VERY important to me that my name be said Correctly because i’ve spent so much time having it said incorrectly or Westernised . i also know a lot of indians my age who ( like me ) have had to dramatically shorten their REAL first name ( which is usually also pretty long . not always , but it is Common ) , to fit their name into white people’s mouths better . please put some thought into ur indian characters name !

not all indians speak hindi ! hindi is one of MANY dialects within india . there is also tamil , urdu , bengali , punjabi , telugu and SO many more , so pls research which part of india ur character / their family is from bc hindi won’t always be the default language for them !

not every indian is hindu ! of course ur character doesnt have to be religious at all , bc if im being honest IM barely religious but my FAMILY is and this is smth u should think abt bc religion is a pretty big thing for indians . so even if ur character isnt hindu , they were probably raised with SOME religious beliefs . have a think about which religions they would have been brought up with ! there’s a very large percentage of practicing muslims , sikhs and buddhists too ! and even christianity !

WRITING WISE / CREATING AN INDIAN CHARACTER WISE :

the first step should be to consume indian media ! listen to indian music . watch bollywood movies ! theres SO MANY out there on everyone’s netflix . if u want some recs , let me know and i can try my best to find smth for u ! if u want smth thats Hollywood-indian . . . Hasan Minhaj is great to watch , especially his episodes on indian culture / politics , and Never Have I Ever on netflix was rlly good / relatable for me personally as an indian growing up in a western society !

i would really really love to see more indian rep in general , but i’d also like to discuss the Stereotypes that ive seen indians portrayed as in mainstream hollywood media :

indian women as soft spoken and subservient beings who are abused by their husbands and have no say in anything

heterosexuality within indian relationships and indian dating

indian men as sleazy

indians in general not being seen as Sexy or Sexual beings with any sex drive at all

Stumbling , Stuttering , Nerdy awkward messes of men who don’t know how to interact with anybody they find sexually appealing

an indian character that everybody ( usually white ) finds Uncomfortable and Weird and is seen as usually the Butt of the joke .

i think those mentioned above could be helpful in how to plan your next indian character and think about how to SUBVERT a trope theyre often portrayed as , or create an indian thats not stereotypical !

so what and who SHOULD you write ?

an indian character who is proudly and openly gay , or bi

a trans or nonbinary indian ( PLEASE ! )

an indian character with really super accepting parents and family

an aromantic indian

an indian who is focused on their career first and not their dating life

a fuckboy / fuckgirl ( honestly . . i’d love to see it )

a indian character who is a party animal

an outspoken indian female who takes no shit and is strong in every sense of the word

a confident , smooth talking indian businessman who is Sexy and Lusted After ( not in a gross christian grey way but just . i’d love to see indian characters seen as Sexy . not in a fetishy way , either , but just because it’d be a nice change in pace ! )

a character who IS traditional / religious but also very progressive and forward thinking in their beliefs

honestly just any character that isnt whats mentioned above

#guide #writing help #rph #rpc #islamaphobia tw #colorism tw #classism tw #idk if this is any good and i was very uncomfortable putting in the part abt how a lot of older indians feel abt muslims #but i mean . . lets just call it the fuck out bc its Gross Behaviour so lets call it out and work to change it #anyways every trigger is tagged super clearly in every point that talks abt it #i kept those parts Brief and as Direct and Honest as possible #pls let me know if u need me to tag anything #and lastly . . . pls write indian characters !!!!

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firewoodfigs · 4 years

Text

into each life some rain must fall

Six times he stands before a grave in the rain, grieving. But this time, courage is reborn. [5+1 Things]

read on ao3

Riza Hawkeye is terrifying. This is the first thought that crosses Roy’s mind when he sees her slicing up the carcass of a chicken (or is it a duck?) without even flinching. So when it rains that day, he doesn't think it’s necessary to find her, in hopes of passing her an umbrella. Truthfully, he doubts someone like her is even capable of catching the common cold.

Perhaps it’s childlike bravery, or sheer stupidity, but Roy decides to search for her anyway. He can think of many reasons why this is an awful idea. First, Roy knows he’s kind of good-looking, the same way he knows he’s sort of ingenious and incredible. But he also knows his aunt is paying a lot of money for his lessons, and that he’s here to learn; not to chase girls or get a girlfriend. Second, he knows from his sisters’ stories that the female imagination is capable of unimaginable things, and he most certainly does not want her, of all people, to get the wrong idea.

If word ever gets out about the little stunt he’s about to pull, his sisters would never let him live it down.

But thunder rumbles in the distance, and rain pelts down incessantly, relentlessly. It’s enough to make even a grown man shiver. So he jogs over to her school in quick strides, searching for a socially awkward urchin with messy golden hair and a terrifying glare.

Roy only manages to find her in the end, after what must have been hours of searching. She’s not at school, no. She’s kneeling in front of a tombstone with a bunch of wilted freesias and roses, staring blankly at the inscription written on it.

He says nothing, only lifts his umbrella over her grieving form and lets half of himself get drenched.

Miss Hawkeye glares at him when she finally notices his presence, but accepts the umbrella begrudgingly nonetheless. As she turns around to face him, he sees rivulets streaming down her cheeks, and Roy wonders if it's the rain or her tears.

She rubs her eyes impatiently. “It’s just the rain,” she insists, even though the umbrella shields her from the raging storm overhead.

ii.

Master Hawkeye dies in his arms after begging him to take care of his daughter. He’s only twenty, halfway through the academy and still unacquainted with death. He’s too stunned to care about decorum and propriety and honorifics at the moment, and ends up yelling for Riza to come.

She appears a moment later, hair still a dishevelled, dampened mess; knuckles white from gripping the doorframe so hard. Her eyes are hollow and she’s too numb, too shocked to say or do anything as she stares at her father’s unnaturally still form.

For a long while, nothing he says seems to elicit any kind of response from her. It’s almost like she’s catatonic; trapped in another dimension where he can’t reach her.

He ends up taking care of the burial and the estate and everything else.

The funeral passes by in a haze. It’s a small, quiet affair. His master has never had many (or any, actually) friends to begin with, anyway, given his eccentricity and preference for seclusion.

Roy stays by her side before a gravestone again afterwards. It’s a sunny day. She doesn’t kneel this time; only stares quietly at the name engraved on it like it belongs to a stranger rather than a father.

To his dismay, he learns that, unlike him, she has no other living relatives or family to turn to. How lonely must it be, then, being trapped in this nondescript, deserted town all by herself?

So he offers her his contact details; his dreams and aspirations for the future as an excuse for them to maintain some semblance of a friendship. It’s probably closer to an acquaintanceship, given that they hadn’t really spoken much even during his stay at the Hawkeye manor. Either way, it’s better than being all alone, he thinks.

In exchange, Miss Hawkeye simply responds with a small, sad smile before asking if she can entrust her back to his dream; offering her own naive ideals and hopes for a better, brighter future.

And then, she unbuttons her blouse as soon as they return to the manor to unveil an intricate array begging to be deciphered. For all his brains and talents Roy can only stare, shell-shocked.

What the hell had his master done?

The sky begins to weep for the abuse she’s endured for the sake of bearing an alchemist’s legacy. But the misty rain can’t wash away the ink splaying out like blood on her back; the pain she must have suffered during the excruciating procedure.

“I’m sorry,” is the only thing he can say to break the silence that hangs over them like a death sentence, as he crosses the distance between them to ghost his fingers over the apology inscribed onto her back.

Miss Hawkeye offers him an impassive shrug. “It… it doesn’t matter,” she mumbles, but her shoulders are quaking and her hands are trembling as she grips on to her blouse for dear life.

iii.

The war finally ends. Rain descends from the heavens like drops of silver after what must surely have been hell on earth. A rarity, Roy thinks, where condensation in the air is caused only by blood, not water. A gift from the gods (do they exist?), perhaps. He lifts his palms heavenward, as if begging for the rain to wash away his sins; his scars and his very soul.

It doesn’t. A soldier like him now inured to violence and gore doesn’t deserve such a reprieve.

At the very least, though, the Hero of Ishval is grateful that it renders him useless. A hero. The title sits uncomfortably on his tongue, in his gut. He’s nothing more than a murderer; a monster, and he doesn’t want any medals of gold or glory emblazoned across his military garb. Not when they’re just symbols celebrating death and destruction.

Roy watches from the distance as a sorrowful silhouette with a familiar tuft of blonde hair kneels over a makeshift grave.

“An Ishvalan child, shot and left to die on the roadside alone,” she explains reverently with a forlorn smile, when he inches closer to ask whether it’s a fallen comrade.

He swallows thickly. God, if only he’d kept his ugly mouth shut back then. Then maybe she’d still just be shooting birds and rabbits and antelopes. Maybe she’d still be making chicken soup for dinner now (imagining the smell of cooked meat is enough to make him nauseous). Maybe she’d still be stuck in the raffish countryside; in that countrified, eerie manor all by herself.

Being alone, he thinks, is still infinitely better than being surrounded by cadavers in a deluge of blood-stained sand.

The… sniper (The Hawk’s Eye leaves an awfully bitter taste in his mouth, like he’s biting a bullet) clenches her fist when she’s done, before asking him for the impossible.

“I have a favour to ask of you, Mr. Mustang,” she begins. “Please burn and crush my back.”

“There’s no way I can -” Roy replies immediately, almost yelling. How in the world could he burn her flesh, with the alchemy he’d learnt from her back?

“Please,” she says, begging for him to liberate her from the bonds chaining her to a deceased man so that she can be her own person. Just Riza Hawkeye, not the keeper of her father’s secrets.

“Damn it,” Roy curses under his breath. She makes it sound like it’s her fault for entrusting her father’s research to him. But isn’t he the one who had abused the power entrusted to him; defiled her trust, destroyed her hopes of everyone getting their happy ending somehow?

And yet... endings like these only exist in grand castles and fairy tales. Not in arid, scorched deserts, and most certainly not in their horror stories of ruthless murder and bloody genocide and endless strife.

If only he’d been a little less foolish back then. If only.

Roy relents.

iv.

Rain pours down in heavy, roaring torrents when he burns her back. Roy wishes it could fall through the roof somehow; douse the fire eating her at her flesh so he doesn’t have to hear her suppressed screams that come out as whimpers as she bites down on an old, ragged cloth. It breaks his heart to burn her, a friend he’s come to cherish and appreciate through all the hell they’ve endured together over bland coffee and stale bread.

But he does so anyway. Because it’s what she wants - no, what she needs. He lets the massive downpour swallow the sounds of their cries; lets the wind carry away the lethal secret that has killed hundreds (or thousands?) into the dark, endless void.

“It… it’s done,” Roy whispers breathlessly at last. He removes the burnt tissue carefully, mindful of her quivering frame before covering them with sterile dressings. Then, he gives her the painkillers he’d gathered from the apothecary, which she eagerly swallows.

He doesn’t dare meet her eyes while she’s still conscious, fearing that he’ll only see hatred swimming in them. How could she not, after all that he’s done? He wouldn’t blame her, to be honest. She has every right to, and he deserves every ounce of it.

Fortunately, the medicine kicks in quickly. Roy kneels before her half-lucid form as her eyelids begin to flutter shut. God, he wants to beg for forgiveness, but...

“I forgive you,” she murmurs sleepily even before he says anything, before finally falling into painless oblivion. Roy stays by her side, nervously close and gentle as he wipes her forehead with a cool, damp cloth to make sure a fever doesn’t develop.

Afterwards, he goes to her parents’ grave to beg them for forgiveness; to repent for all that he’s done to their daughter.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t fulfil your last wish, Master,” he cries, filled with regret that he hadn’t listened to his warning back then. The stones only stare back at him wordlessly. Self-reproach swallows him whole, the way squalls of driving rain completely engulf him.

A little less than a month later, Riza Hawkeye marches into his office, stoic and stalwart with an unrivalled expertise in guns and an unyielding duty to the living and the dead. He’s inclined to believe that maybe, just maybe, he can make the necessary reparations and restitutions with her by his side. And so he makes her his personal adjutant; gives her the right to shoot his back if he steps off the path.

It’s the least he can do after he’s defaced hers, after all.

“Will you follow me?” Roy asks apprehensively.

“If that is your wish, then even into hell,” she states, not flinching in the least. He wants to tell her that she’s already been through hell with him, and she doesn’t deserve anymore of that.

Instead, he grits his teeth and looks on ahead resolutely, determined not to let her down this time.

Brigadier General Maes Hughes is buried on a relatively bright afternoon. The sun shines as birds sing and flowers begin to bloom. The spring sky shimmers overhead in a vibrant, cheerful shade of blue like it’s paying an ode to his sprightly nature.

And yet, the ceremony is distinctly somber: it’s filled with soldiers who aren’t allowed to break protocol and say their eulogies and prayers; a wife whose heart is torn asunder, who still yearns for him to return home, and a child who’s far too young to understand that he’s not coming back.

Colonel Mustang stands at attention as the soldiers lower his best friend six feet under. His stomach coils as his heart wrenches. He feels like throwing up again. A part of him wishes his body would stop behaving in this manner so that he can at least attempt to convince himself that this isn’t real; that it’s just a feverish dream which will be chased away by the morning light.

But it’s real. It’s not a dream. Because Elicia, darling Elicia is crying for her father. “Why are you burying Papa?” she yells. “He has to return to his work!”

Roy only barely manages to stop himself from grieving aloud. Years of military training, perhaps. He continues watching quietly as the bugle sounds off in Hughes’ honour instead, and waits for everyone to leave before saying his piece.

Well, almost everyone.

“... Are you alright?” His Lieutenant asks.

“Yes,” he answers unconvincingly. “It’s… it’s a terrible day for rain.”

She looks up at the vast horizon above them, a pretty pastel pink with tender ribbons of lilac streaking across. “It’s not raining -”

“Yes, it is,” he whispers, before donning the military cap once more.

Thankfully, Hawkeye understands. She gives him a moment to grieve, not bothering with senseless platitudes or empty sympathies. A crow caws in the distance, calling for the departed soul of his friend as he stands, uniform dry but cheeks inexplicably damp.

“Let’s go, sir. It’s getting chilly here,” Lieutenant Hawkeye calls gently. Colonel Mustang nods and obliges, leaving his best friend behind in the setting sun.

Daybreak arrives once more, like clockwork. His eyes are raw and red and swollen shut as he mulls over the consequences of ditching work for the day.

Hawkeye turns up at his doorstep with freshly baked bread and a warm cup of coffee just then: the morning light that offers him a brief respite from grief.

vi.

It’s pouring this time as he stands in front of Hughes’ grave. Somehow, it always does whenever he stands alive before death.

The sky and rain are like sackcloth and ash, Roy thinks, as it falls on his shoulders and shrouds him from the rest of the world in a sad, pearly grey. But he’s been so scared and frustrated and exhausted over the past few months - from losing his closest friend, to dealing with a government corrupt to its very core and an impending nationwide catastrophe - that it’s a welcome relief.

“It’s almost time, Colonel,” comes a gentle voice in the midst of the gloomy darkness.

The downpour gradually lessens into a soft drizzle.

It’s impossible to miss the scent of her, lavender and petrichor masked beneath gunpowder even in this graveyard reeking of death. And it finally dawns upon Roy then, why the time they’d spent apart had felt like an eternity; why it’d pained him so badly like someone was ripping his innards out. Because he loves her. He loves her so much that it pushes out through every fiber of his being; that he almost can’t contain the urge to kiss her; hold her, keep her in his arms forever.

Behind him, he hears her feet shift subtly. Her breathing is weary and slightly laboured. A well-timed reminder that she’s very much alive, not buried underneath soil like the other rotting corpses in this god-awful place.

Roy bites on his lips, hard, to restrain himself from crushing them on hers. They don’t need any more fires between them when they already have enough to extinguish.

But she’s here now, at least, and that’s more than enough. It’s enough for him to keep moving forward despite having buried a part of himself alongside the man he’d seen as a comrade, a friend and a brother. It’s enough for courage to be reborn; for him to face another day with strength and hope.

“Let’s go, Lieutenant,” he says at last, a genuine smile crossing his features for the first time in months. She hesitates for a moment before trailing behind him, footsteps quiet and steadfast. And when they depart the land of the dead (together) to meet the maelstrom awaiting the living he’s not afraid anymore.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #5+1 fic #5+1 things

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bleufrost · 5 years

Text

Where the Wind Blows|| Chief Jim Hopper x reader

Summary: just a soft and domestic morning with our teddy bear chief of police, jim hopper.

Warnings: talk of nightmares, but this is mostly just fluff

A/N: this is the first fic im posting on here and i actually had to rewrite it bc im dumb and deleted part of it, so i apologize if it isnt the best. Im always open to constructive criticism and feedback if youre willing to share! Hope y'all enjoy this and are as excited for st3 as i am!!

🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂

You had woken up to an empty bed that held onto just the slightest amount of warmth from where the Chief had slept soundly beside you the night before. You were used to him being gone by the time you awoke, not because he didn't care for you or preferred time away, but because the nightmares often led him outside for a smoke or two to ease his nerves. He had been through a lot and found it difficult to cope with some of the things he had seen; things he had done. It wasn't your place to pressure him, and you wouldn't dream of doing that anyway. You understood the difficulties of intimacy and were proud of him for having let you in as much as he had already. You and Jim were happy together, but happy doesn't always drive away the demons.

You allowed yourself to adjust to the bright morning light before pulling back the covers and picking up a large sweatshirt from the chair beside the vanity. The chilly air seeped its way to your bones as your feet slowly made their way to the bedroom door. The soft fabric of the sweatshirt slipped down your skin and encased you in a gentle warmth that was more than welcomed as the backdoor drew nearer, the wind finding its way through the screen door and to your body. You loved the security that sweatshirts could offer, but your favorite place to seek comfort was in the arms of the man you found leaning against the porch railing; cigarette in hand as small clouds of white smoke lazily made their way from between warm lips.

You push the door open and make your way over to Jim, leaning against him slowly as the cold air grew stronger without the walls of the house to shield you from it.

"Good morning, beautiful." The words were spoken quietly, drifting from his lips to your ears like the most wonderful of melodies. You alone heard the tender words that so greatly contrasted against the rough exterior that Jim so adamantly enforced around the outside world. You alone understood just how meaningful the pet name was. Jim had been through a lot in his life, and there was very little that he found even remotely beautiful anymore. His cynicism had grown to the point where he saw the worst parts of life first, and the best almost never. Nothing was pretty anymore, but you, oh you could beat the sun and moon in a pretty contest any day in his eyes. You were his own personal little slice of heaven, and he was yours.

He snubbed the cigarette out on an ashtray before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer as you mumbled back a soft, "morning baby," into his shoulder.

"How'd you sleep?" You already knew the answer before you asked the question. You knew the moment you had awoke alone that he had been kept up all night by the monsters that clawed in his head. It was still important that you asked though, it was important that he knew he had the power to open up to you or not. With so much that could easily be taken from him at any moment in time, knowing he had some form of control over his life, even if it was something small like this, made a huge difference. Giving a choice made it all the more easy to choose vulnerability; it allowed some defenses to drop.

"Like shit. But it's better now that I can hold you out here." His voice was sincere, and when you looked up you could see the love written across his face as clear as day. Jim let a little smile make its way onto his lips before leaning down slightly to lay a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

You breathed in the soothing scent that could only be described as Jim, before laughing softly at the very little sense what he had just said made.

"You can hold me in bed too, Jim. You don't have to wait until I come out here looking for you." You leaned back to get a better look at his face, and for a brief moment his eyebrows pulled together, his eyes crinkling with a slight confusion as he considered what you said.

For a second, Jim himself didn't even understand why he waited out here to comfort himself in your embrace. What you said had made sense. It would be immensely easier to stay wrapped up in bed where your body lay only inches away for him to wrap himself around upon waking from an all too familiar displeasing sleep. He supposed the cold air helped him breathe. The calm that a cigarette brought was best found outside where it couldn't wake you. It was then that another gust of crisp air encased the pair of you, your body pushing just a bit closer to his as his arms instinctively held you just the slightest bit more tightly against his warm chest. No, it only took him a moment to realize that he did not escape to the back porch to flee the walls of the house that caged him in with the monsters that scratched at him from within. It wasn't even for the passing calm that a cigarette could offer. It was for you.

"I know I could hold you inside, but the wind doesn't blow in there. Out here, it chases all the bad shit away for second, it gives me a minute to breathe. I don't wanna wake you, and when you do get up you always come looking. When you find me out here, the wind blows and it gives me a little more of an excuse to hold you tighter for my minute of peace." Your heart beat a little faster upon hearing that. It was one of the most intimate and vulnerable things Jim had ever admitted to you, and you couldn't stop your hand from reaching up and gently placing itself upon his cheek. Your fingers beckoned him down. He was a big man, but he was always ready and willing to lower himself down to meet you halfway. A soft "I love you" was shared between the two of you as your lips met in a tender kiss that spoke every word that you could never seem to say.

You really did love this man, and as long as it held the promise that he would hold you and bring to you the intimacy that only he could offer, you would always look to find him where the wind blows.

🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂

A/N: ive honestly just been feeling really sad and soft lately and i love hopper so i just had to write something cute for him. let me know what you guys think! requests are currently open!

#jim hopper #stranger things #stranger things x reader #jim hopper x reader #hopper #hopper x reader #chief hopper #chief hopper x reader #jim hopper fanfic #hopper fanfic #chief hopper fanfic #stranger things fanfic #david harbour x reader #david harbour #bleufrost.fic

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starlightshore · 5 years

Note

I was wondering do you have any good fanfics to recommend ive been in a fanfic mood but can't find any, most of them stopped updating :(

god i’m honestly not the best person to ask for fics or fandom content in general. i literally don’t interact with the fandom much at all, like, sometimes i’ll go into the main tag and follow someone, but even then it’s very rare for me to follow someone. i like my dashboard small so i can catch up.

also, i only really read fic now once in a blue moon for emotional catharsis. sometimes i just want to feel bad and that’s ok. this also means most fics i read were years ago and i can barely remember anything, and don’t feel safe recommending in case i forget something bad about it. also, my old bookmarks were on a different computer, rip.

so honestly, i’m terrible for recommending fics. i’m only going to recommend one that i’ve reread some-what recently and some art based content. i actually recommend other people to reblog this post with their own recommendations! i just ask that non of them misgender the kids or are gross. just, putting that as a caution, i’m not assuming anyone is going to do that.

long rec under the cut, sorry mobile users ;-;

1) feeling bonely

the only fic on this list. a human au where sans is suicidal and meets toriel online anonymously through omgle. through the power of friendship and 38 chapters, sans learns how to put in the effort in having friends and making his life better.

this fic is such a comfort to me. it’s got My Brand of sadness that i crave in fics but it’s also so funny, lighthearted, thoughtful and inspiring. i love sans’ friendship with alphys, i love sans being a total dork baby over time travel, i love papyrus learning about depression and helping sans fight it, the salads and rubber bands for coping, i just,, akfjalsjdf its my favorite fic.

its soriel but i believe sans is ace so while romance is a element, sex isn’t which i greatly appericate lmao. since the fic does go into suicide and depression, parental abuse and ableism, ect., i do recommend keeping an eye on the content warnings. it’s also a really long fic but it’s finished.

—-the rest are wips but almost all of them are still updating!

2) Unexpected Guests

Papyrus summons a full bodied gaster blaster, chaos ensues. It’s a post pacfist comic that is beautifully drawn, is light on angst and has a lot of fun character interaction.

still a wip, but has a substantial amount of reading material you can go through. the story is getting really juicy by having sans finally fess wtf is UP with him. i’m dying to know what happens next!

3) Insomnia

a literal classic that hasn’t been updated in over a year, and it’s been that long since i read it but it’s a fandom classic! the art and it’s vibrant colors still stick to me even now. the story fits lore and real science together, it so detailed and beautiful.

i can’t recall if the author said this will be continued someday or not, i don’t want to spark rumors esp with my shoddy memory so idk! it’s such a fandom classic though, it’s defs worth reading!

4) We’re not in kansas anymore.png

ok i don’t THINK thats the title and i could just be oblivious and be misunderstanding here lmao. kan makes really, really good undertale content in general, like, their art is my favorite anything ever. kan covers heavy topics but does so with genuine care and thought. i luv their poncho and chara stuff. i could gush forever.

this comic in particular just started but it is ongoing! they also write fics!

5) EVERYTHING BY MEL

mel has a few askblogs, all of which are fantastic! i haven’t gotten the time to read all of their blogs but like, mel’s characterizations are so good and complex. mel handles the topic of trauma with nuance and it’s all vry good.

everything is on hiatus rn but there’s a big backlog.

6) Askgasterfamily (ok this is me outright cheating here. it’s my askblog)

i have a 4 year old askblog and while i have a lot feelings about it and its not aged the super best in my eyes cause a good chunk of it was written when my mental health utter crap. these last few years have been hard as hell on me and i will not go into why rn cause.. obviously its personal and this ain’t a vent post lmao. i used agf to cope a lot with the shit i was going through, so a lot of is messy.

anyway, summary: the aster family runs a vlog, where people ask them questions about their private life. starts off as a fun slice of life comedy but descends into a sci-fi horror story about depression, morality, and family abuse.

i honestly would recommend just waiting for me to make the animatic film. it’s going to be the definitive version where the story is streamlined and more coherent. i storyboared over a hour of footage but it’s currently undergoing major rewrites as i was unhappy with it, so it’s still going to be a while for it to come out.

aaaaand that’s it for now! that’s all my recs that i can think of. i know the second i post this i’ll think up like, 5 things i could recommend but i’m just gonna leave it as is for now. pls don’t take it personal if i forgot or didn’t put ur fanwork on here.

#also i'm gonna list content warnings both in the post itself for the fics and at the end of these tags #just so those who don't want to see cws even mentioned on their dash #(i hope u don't mind i make this public!)#(I try to answer privately for non anon asks but i did say i wanted to chat which brought this up so i'm gonna post)#personal stuff #sams replies #also my ex has some good fanfic but i feel that'd be awkward to recommend so if they see this:#i'm sorry and i didn't forget u i just don't want this to be weird lol #tanaysmith11 #cws mentioned are the following #depression #sucicide #absuse #parental abuse #agf has some torture and body horror spooky shit #self harm #uhhhh i'm sure theres other serious topics and cws that i'm forgetting #i love angst and comfort sorry thats what end up reading and therefore all i can recommend

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cardshcrp · 6 years

Note

five times kissed but high school au

FIVE TIMES KISSED.

@xtrainee // HIGH SCHOOL GV.

The first time, it’s nothing. Sitting in the back together, talking quietly, surrounded by a group of not-quite-peers and decidedly ignoring the meeting. He’s being indulgent, honestly, and he doesn’t know why - maybe because Wade is set apart too.

Murder corner. You’re gonna start more rumors hangin’ out with me. Go homo or go home, y’know?

Wade’s laughing, watching the way the yarn keeps reshaping in Remy’s hands, and for a second Remy thinks that yeah, maybe good guys do exist still, just a few far between, and he’s found one in the back of a calculus classroom, smelling of weed and cigarette smoke. He’s more relaxed than he has been since the move, so for once he’s indulgent, gives in to the impulse.

He leans in like he’s gonna give him a secret and presses his lips to his cheek instead, wrapped in their little bubble of solitude, and the surprised gasp kind of makes it worth it.

LeBeau, that’s kinda gay!

Remy rolls his eyes, smirks, and that’s that. It doesn’t mean anything at all, so he doesn’t think about it.

II.

I really shouldn’t have done that. It’s his last thought before he goes tumbling down, feet tangled up and eyes rolling back, because he’s a fucking idiot and he’s been running for two hours now with his binder on, no breaks, pushing himself and pushing himself because he’s burning up with too much energy and pissiness, all homesick and upset and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

There’s a shout as he hits the dusty track, and if he had the presence of mind to scowl he would’ve, because who the hell stuck around on school grounds till seven at night?

He groans when somebody fucking shakes him like a complete dickhead, rasping for air, and then there’s weight on his chest and a warm mouth settling over his, breathing the oxygen in that he’s struggling for. He needs it, and he’s confused, so he lets it happen for half a minute, and then he yells and shoves, shirt slipping down and down off his shoulder and -

It’s Wade. Go figure. He glares at the taller boy, chest heaving, skin sticky - and then he’s white, every bit of fury gone in an instant because those startled eyes are on the shoulder strap of his binder and Wade’s glancing back and forth between his hands and Remy’s chest like he’s going to die on the spot.

Remy scowls and yanks his shirt off, throws it in the other boy’s face as a shield as he turns around and struggles with his binder because he can’t fucking breathe and it needs to be off, now. He can’t get it, his fingers are scrabbling and there’s panic welling up in his throat - and then warm hands are settling over his, peeling the soaked fabric off his skin, it’s okay, I got you and he’s petrified but when he looks up Wade’s eyes are screwed shut and he’s doing his damnedest not to touch Remy skin to skin.

They get it off and Remy shrugs his shirt back on like it isn’t the most awkward thing that’s ever happened in his life, and Wade folds his binder and hands it back to him. I’m sorry, he says, and he looks like he means it. For touching you - I didn’t know, and Remy just sighs. He’s exhausted, suddenly, and honestly? At least Wade doesn’t look disgusted, or like he’s going to scream and run. It’s okay. It’s fine. It’s - I was being stupid anyway.

They sit there for a long time, not saying anything, and when Remy finally stands and turns to go he mutters thanks, stoops to give him a hug from behind that has too many soft curves before he jogs away.

He catches Wade staring at him the next day in class with a look on his face like he doesn’t quite know what to say. They don’t talk about it, don’t talk at all.

III.

He swears under his breath, patting down his pockets like that’s magically going to change the fact that he’d forgotten his jacket today, his leather jacket that he wears even in the summer because it hides the way his chest isn’t quite flat enough.

His jacket that he keeps his smokes in. His lockpicks too, coincidentally, but that isn’t what he’s after right now.

Remy scowls, stomps his foot against the cold ground petulantly; his huff of irritation comes out cold and white and visible. It’s not worth going back inside when he’s already snuck out, so he leans back against the brick back of the gym.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when a hand reaches out over his shoulder, dangling a half-empty pack of cigarettes in front of his nose. He swears, sharp and foreign, and it makes Wade laugh and jiggle the packet, coaxing.

C’mon, I saw you. You need one.

Remy turns to face him, hip cocked and arms folded over his chest, ’cause nothing comes for free. He wouldn’t put it past the senior to be that crazy, but still - What you want for it?

Wade blinks, and his face breaks into a smile, jumping right on the chance to tease. Give us a kiss, he croons, obviously not meaning it.

Sure. And Remy ducks in, curls his fingers under Wade’s chin and tugs him in, kisses him nice and slow and thorough and leaving him wide-eyed like he’s just seen a ghost, lips pink and parted.

He plucks a cigarette free and winks at him before strolling away, lazy and contented, smug as hell and twice as pleased.

IV.

Jeez, close your mouth, he says, and hands Wade the pizza box like he isn’t perched on the kitchen counter mostly naked with only lace on the remainder. It’s your favorite.

Wade closes his mouth and takes the box, opens it again like he’s going to ask who knows what, but finally he just shakes his head and grabs a slice instead, grinning like crazy.

Neither of them honestly has any idea when they became friends, but it really didn’t matter. The fact was that they were, and that in itself was enough.

(It’s kind of the closest he’s been to happy in a long time.)

They eat in silence for a while, trading off sips of Coke, Remy leaning in to clean a smudge of sauce off Wade’s cheek and maybe, just maybe he’s smiling real soft.

C’mere, c’mere, and he reaches out to snag Wade’s wrists and drag him gently forward as he backs into the living room. He’d pleased to find that Wade’s eyes never leave his face; finally, the backs of his knees hit the couch, and he laughs, half-giddy.

They topple over, legs tangled up and hands twisted up in hair and tugging at each other’s clothes, and for once Remy is the one getting kissed to hell and back, chapped lips all over his cheeks and nose and mouth.

When Remy yanks open the door at two in the morning with an angry tirade ready on his lips for whichever of his crew had forgotten their shit at his place, he blinks instead, because - uh, what?

There’s Wade Wilson on his doorstep, still in fatigues and hauling a duffel bag, and he just kinda stares for a hot minute, because he hasn’t seen the guy since graduation and it’s just - it’s two in the morning and it’s a little much, honestly, not that he isn’t glad.

Heard you stuck around in town, Wade says, and Remy just snorts, stepping aside to let him in. Uh, nah, I went home - wound up comin’ back here though. It’s comfy, y’know?

He cracks open a couple of beers, passes one to his old friend, rolls his own around between his palms; he’s at a bit of a loss, for once, and it shows. They both are, really.

There’s too much history written there, too many years of distance and unasked questions and silent glances, but at the bottom of the line they are friends and so Remy makes the guest room bed in record time, sits down next to him, and they stare at each other a long time. Stay as long as you like, he tells him. Just don’t ask me about my shitty schedule and I won’t punch ya.

Wade laughs, and Remy reaches out, lets his thumb drift over the other man’s cheek, slow and soft. They can figure things out later, stop the awkward sidestep, but now things are alright.

He leans in and presses his lips to the corner of Wade’s mouth, chaste and soft.

Welcome home, asshole. Missed ya.

#xtrainee #♠️ ANSWERED.#gv; marvel high.#♠️ DRABBLES.

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narniasummerexchange · 7 years

Text

For @hauntedthief

Title: Swanwhite

Synopsis: The rise and fall of Queen Swanwhite, both rose and thorn.

Word count: 3667

Year 628, Narnia

“All hail Swanwhite, Empress of The Lone Islands, Queen of Narnia. Long may she reign!”

Some say that if her image were reflected in a pool of water, it would stay for a year and day. Others proclaim she didn’t walk - she flew. Bloomed with a quiet ethereal glow no other queen had ever had.

Those less favourable toward the monarch said she held a heart of ice, ruthless in its judgement. That her hands were deadly, with a chokehold on her growing country.

All seemed to forget that she was but a woman with a debilitating responsibility on her shoulders.

Her acquisition of Narnia was amidst the disastrous power vacuum following the death of the 19th ruler, her brother. He bore no children, his wife passed due to illness. Swanwhite prevailed out of the rest of his siblings as queen, rising like a phoenix, brutal and burning in her possession of the land. Her beauty was unparalleled, much the same as her talent with it. Within a year of her 21st she was seated upon the throne, pale eyes set with fierce determination and wild dreams.

“Adonais, please send word to General Winterstrom to set up the appropriate defenses in the West. I fear the Great West is capable of anything. I’ve only just gained the crown - I’d like to keep it a while. Oh, and check with Cottonfoot that the Old Rites dance is still taking place at The Dancing Lawn.”

The cherry blossom dryad nodded and bowed, drifting for the window. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

The messenger whirled out the window in a blur of pink petals, leaving a strong floral fragrance in her wake. Sunlight streamed in the room, warming the dark wood of the desk to burning. Swanwhite heaved a sigh behind it, rubbing at her temples a moment before pushing away from the many documents screaming for her attention. She had watched her brother toil over documents and treaties for hours upon hours and honestly, she thought he was just being a slow reader. The beautiful queen had never anticipated that the paperwork was so tedious. But such was the life of a ruler. She wore the crown, so she too would wear the many responsibilities that came with it. Bar one.

Despite her long ice blue dress, she artfully avoided the other lords seeking her precious time in favour of hiding out in the blossoming gardens of Cair Paravel. The blonde preferred the exotic garden the most with its’ odd varieties, often from Archenland and Calormen and devoid of dryads and other messengers. A few moments of quiet bliss.

She idly twirled the pen knife she had accidentally taken from her office through her fingers. The swirling gilded silver reflected the sunlight and she couldn’t help but think about all the things she had left to do that day. Followed by the fact there were never enough hours in the day to fulfill all those tasks waiting for her, all classed as top priority. So much for quiet.

Swanwhite basked in the surroundings. In every blade of grass under her sandals and brush of spring breeze against her cheeks, running its fingers through her hair. Narnia. Her country. Even from her height she could hear the giggles and splashes of the young merfolk that liked to play by the shore. She had to talk with their king about border protection of the Lone Islands eventually. Avoid the topic of his eldest son being unwed and the implications it carried for her.

With that thought she shuddered, spinning on her heel to face the music of the court. A maid or two sweeping the stone hallways curtsied deeply in her presence, peeking up through their bewildered lashes at her effortless glide over the rough floor, her reflection glowing and holding in the armour lining the walkways. Said reflection mingled with the others, surveying the servants work in the castle with critical blue eyes and upturned button nose. A rotund Duke Bryers leaped out from nowhere, blinding the woman with his velvety red and gold attire. The apples of his cheeks were painted wine red, his dark sight keen as he wobbled on his feet.

He seemed to ignore the way she stepped back in shock, his bow legged limbs bare and in her face. Duke Bryers was too busy huffing his curly brown waves out of his flushed face while attempting to right his stack of parchment after his strenuous act. The maids down the hall turned away from the conversation to hide their simpering giggles.

“Your Majesty! Just my luck! I’ve been looking for you all day. May I have but a moment of your time? I wish to speak with you about the Archenland royal court.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from glaring at him. Best to kiss her afternoon and all opportunity for signing and sending the Terebinthia Treaty goodbye. Swanwhite graced the stout man with a tight but pleasant smile.

“Of course, Your Grace. Come, let us speak in private.”

Swanwhite shook her long blonde strands over her shoulders, twisting her fingers in her lap tightly. If they were knotted anymore they would have surely been dislocated. Duke Bryers clapped his papers loudly against the table again to shuffle them straight.

“There is also the King’s nephew, Lune IV to consider. Young, strong, politically smart. Narnia would benefit greatly from his presence.” The short red man babbled.

She coughed delicately. “Yes, well we’ll have to see if he decides to send forth his interest, won’t we? Should we decide to send word first it would make us look nothing but desperate. We have just begun a new reign - we have pre-written policies ready to roll into place. If they hear anything else it may not send a good image.” Swanwhite sent the duke a look, a quirk of her pale brows. She was not red despite her delicate skin’s time in the sun. “One we all constructed together. Should it be impacted, Narnia may not look favourably upon the court.”

Her words implied many things. If the people perceived anything wrong with the court, there may be a coup, which many in turn send the country into turmoil that it may not recover from. It was etiquette that the suitor send forth his interests in courtship first anyway. Desperation was not a pretty trait in a wife, let alone a queen. But most of all, she didn’t want to outrightly say again that she was not interested in marriage at the current time. The queen had no cares for how it looked. The fact her 23rd birthday was breathing down her neck and she was blatantly unwed, no consort at her side to “anchor” her. Swanwhite had no need for anchoring - the overbearing weight of responsibility was enough to keep her grounded and head level.

The duke hung his head briefly, conceding defeat to the young royal’s crisp words. “O-of course, Your Majesty. I was only thinking ahead. For the benefit of our people. Pro-active than reactive is a very good policy to have.”

She smiled at him, trying to keep the ice from seeping into the curve of her lips. “Very good of you, my Lord. Thank you for considering it and constructing such a succinct plan for our country’s future. If we have nothing else to discuss though, I really must be getting to my next appointment. The seamstress gets very curt if she’s held up.”

“Oh, yes. Yes absolutely. Farewell, Your Majesty.”

Duke Bryers stood after her, bowing low in response to her kind nod of acknowledgement, holding his position until she left the room. The young queen seemed to suck all the light from the drawing room when she exits, the duke’s gold robes dulled in the mysterious shade.

Most private conversations with the lords follow in the same vein. All men attempting to gently - or less so - press marriage. Swanwhite spent most nights drained of all pleasantries, her snarl seeping into the following day. The servants hastened to hide when she swept through the halls. Not even Adonais, her messenger come lady-in-waiting can soothe the part-star.

She understood their motives and meaningful intentions. But the bitter queen was hurt by their apparent lack of faith in her solo leadership. It would have helped if she were married to Lune IV or his cousin and third in line, Aramis - their military and economic assistance would have been greatly appreciated. A union between she and Rabbash of Calormen would’ve been a dream for both countries. The trade benefits enormous.

But the court forgot how she gained her position. She fought for it, worked for every inch. Batted her lashes when possible and sliced with her blade when inevitable. Her words and her mere presence were her diplomatic keys. The only reason she hadn’t convinced these men was because they kept seeing their daughters in her eyes - a jewel to be protected rather than a relic to be revered.

The second anniversary of her coronation was nearing rapidly. The seamstress was getting irritated with her indecision on her dress design. Two things were for sure - she refused to look anything less than perfect nor would she look like a commodity to be bargained for.

“I really wish you chose something other than blue, Your Majesty.” The beaver tutted. “As flattering as it is, maybe something else this time. A crisp white, perhaps? Some gold?”

Swanwhite huffed in her shift, craning her neck to peer behind her. “Did the lords put you up to this, Helena?”

“No! I put myself up to this.You can’t cling to image of your mother forever.”

So she may be trying to emulate herself a little off of her unknown mother. It made for a memorable reign and a way to command presence. Swanwhite’s mother gave the queen her part-star heritage. The reason for her constant white-blue glow and ability to glide on air rather than walk. Her pale beauty and capability to better sense magic.

So Helena didn’t want blue? Swanwhite tilted her chin up. Fine then - so be it.

The seamstress was frankly a little bowled over when soon after Swanwhite demanded that her dress be a vivid indigo. Just as shocking was when Swanwhite considered venturing out of her comfort zone by going against the preferred fashion of the time.

But a few months later, Swanwhite is fitted with a long form-fitting dress a long train following onward. Flowers and branches are embroidered with iridescent thread along the hem and over the train in a natural, trellis pattern. The pattern continues throughout, framing the angular cutouts at her waist. The beaver can’t keep the uneasiness out of her posture as she checked the dipping neckline, or when she adjusted the horribly sheer fabric of the skirt that bared the queen’s asterisk shaped birthmark by her knee.

“Your Majesty, are you sure about this? As lovely as this is, it’s not very…conservative. This is a ball with everyone present. Not an opportunity to try out some fashion trend.”

Swanwhite grinned, a predatory look in her eye as she smoothed her hands over her long skirt. “Oh, I know.”

The day of the anniversary rushed into her. After a journey to The Stone Table at dawn and a bright festival in the town, she got ready for the ball. Long blonde hair weaved in elaborate braids, silver crown nestled carefully on top. Bangles and bracelets jingled up her arms. If Rabbash knew what she was wearing, he would be horrified - hopefully.

She had greeted all the guests that had filed into the gates that morning, sliding off of horse or out of carriages. Rabbash and the Archenland court included. All a very polite affair, of course.

The ballroom was decorated elaborately, with blue and gold ribbon twisting around pillars and sweeping over the ceiling. They shimmered gently with the sunlight, hopefully glowing with sunset. The room had been cleared of anything unwanted, such as excess tables as well as her throne. The dais empty, a podium shoved behind a baby blue curtain of silk. The face of Aslan tiled onto the floor had been scrubbed and buffed clean so he could roar beautifully at their feet.

When she arrived, the ball was in full swing, as intended, the group of musicians playing vigorous folk music that encouraged her favourite dances. Swanwhite was announced to the room and she watched with pride the wave of people who bowed in her presence. There was no need for a speech - the one at the festival was enough. This was but a celebration, not a time a of thought. The Telmar, Calormene and Archenland guests took turns greeting her, trying their best not to look like they were pushing.

Rabbash got to her first, flanked by two guards and another two advisors. As expected, rather than stumbling over themselves to flatter her with compliments, they stuttered to a stop, shocked. Again though, they bowed deeply out of courtesy, keeping their eyes to floor to stem the unspoken conversation ready to spill out.

He blinked at her attire, something unknown in his eyes. “Purple, Your Majesty. I-interesting choice.”

She beamed prettily. “Isn’t just? I thought something new was in order for my anniversary.”

He made a noncommittal noise as he pressed his lips to her knuckles and swiftly moved on. His advisors cast her shocked and scornful looks that slid off her ego smoothly. She knew this particular shade was bad luck in Calormene. It was the colour of black magic; of Tash’s robes and Zardeenah’s eyes in the darkest nights.

Lune IV and his family didn’t linger for long with her, no matter how much the lords and the king try. She must have said something wrong. Swanwhite danced for hours on end, the most joy she’d had in days. The fauns kept up with her exceptionally well, unlike Duke Bryers who bowed out after one song. In a very un-ladylike action, she scooped part of her dress hem up to better maneuver, shooting the crowd a view of her calf. Swanwhite caught a flash of dead black in the crowd but thought nothing of it - someone didn’t quite understand what a celebration entailed. It was nearing on midnight when the musicians suddenly changed the tempo of their set, against her wishes. Swanwhite thought she explicitly said as few slow songs as possible before one, so as to keep the mood high.

She was part the way over to the band when she was called at. Rabbash, outrageously pointed beard and all grinned and ushered her over to the dais. The dancing stopped as the ball guests started to focus their attention on them. The end of his sash kept slapping her hip as he walked, the heady scent of musk perfume surrounding him. Rabbash snapped his fingers in the lull of the ballroom, a servant scuttling over the smooth marble and depositing something into his grasp. His hands were veiny and spindly and Swanwhite was secretly thankful she hadn’t had an opportunity to dance with him yet. Being within arms length of them…she buried a shudder while waiting for his words. The tan man stepped up the few ledges of the dais to stand before her. Her mouth fell open of its own accord as she examined what he held in his hands. A ring? Binding ribbon?

He reached out for her hand, squeezing uncomfortably. The lords beamed smugly with their wives and children. The music finally fell silent. His dark beady eyes glittered and she tried not to fixate her sight on that one crooked tooth in his leering smile.

“My Lady - my Queen Swanwhite. Tash’s mistress. A figure of beauty and power. I would be honoured if you would consent to be my wife - my queen and mother to the heirs of our noble kingdom Calormene. Our countries would benefit so for our union - think of it! Our bloodline would be the strongest known. Our children blessed with your beauty and my intellect. So? Your Majesty?” He squeezed her hand tighter, panic blooming in his black sight.

She cleared her throat, tearing her hand away from Rabbash’s grasp. Her pale eyes blazed, insulted. She appeared gaunt and burning on the dais and he stepped down a step in shock. A shiver rippled down his back as he avoids her sight. Just as quickly as her hopes and spirits had lifted, they were sent crashing to the ballroom floor. How dare he put her on the spot like this, on her coronation anniversary? Her day of celebration alone. Expect her to say yes to save face and upkeep his pride.

“Rabbash, I reject your proposal. I am no one’s mistress. Nor am I anyone’s potential wife.” She says clear and quiet. “I renounce your gods. Tash, Zardeenah, Azaroth. All gods, bar the ones worthy of my praise. Neptune, guard of our waters. Bacchus, keeper of our rituals. Aslan, protector of all.”

Rabbash reared up like a horse, throwing his marriage gifts to the floor. The ring twinkled and tinkled as it ran across the floor between the guests’ feet. His wiry, pointy beard trembled with rage. Swanwhite jutted her chin up at him, glaring down her nose at him.

“I shall announce it now, one last time. I will not marry now. I don’t believe I ever will. Not for trade, not for unity or military advantage. Not for love or companionship. The next man who dares bring forth a ring will face more than this.”

She implied the embarrassment she has thrust upon the little prince. The Calormen were very arrogant and prideful people. She knew that this would not be forgotten - there would be consequences, which she would face in due time. Swanwhite danced down the dais, past the outraged prince and back into the crowd, stepping over the ribbon and kicking aside the ring.

After the celebration, Swanwhite’s reign hurtles downhill. The Archenland court turn away from Narnia; distance themselves. The rash and ruthless actions of Queen Swanwhite are too much to handle. The king is thankful she turned down the three proposals given by his family by letter - his sons and nephew safe from her heavy hand. She was pretty as a sword. Gorgeous and gleaming until it cut you.

The kingdom of Calormene say she is callous and stupid, turning down their prince in such a humiliating fashion and in public. The brash people call her blasphemous towards their gods, cut off unnecessary ties. Trade falls to a standstill between the two countries. The king withdraws his diplomats and the structural links between the nations whittles to nothing.

Telmar was never on good terms with the pale queen in the first place. Now her proclamation gave them the perfect reason to outright run.

The merpeople stop their singing, staying away from the shallows. The king withdraws his interest in assisting in protecting The Lone Islands.

The Lone Islands suffer, their queen and her attention land-locked to their motherland as she tries to regain her foothold on the world. The merchants become slave-drivers and the beauty of their ruler becomes a curse.

Ravenblack is her sister, the full-blood one of their deceased brother. Just as pale in complexion, but with rich, sable strands tumbling in thick rings down her back. She is sick of the turmoil her stubborn ruler portrays, endangering the future of their country. Besides, the lords much prefer her simpering ways. Enough to take charge but not enough to always dig her heels in.

It takes months to plan the coup. Under the cover of night, behind closed doors, in unsavoury corners of the town. Aslan and his wise, good words are forgotten in these small moments in which she plans her sister’s downfall.

And isn’t it a terrible one. The scribes stop writing her name. The stonemasons stall in their making of her inaugural statue to be placed with all the others in the catacombs of Cair Paravel. The lords pledge their allegiance to Ravenblack, as do the mermaids under a full moon. Whatever has Swanwhite’s name on it is either removed to some place easily forgotten or destroyed. Right under her nose. Too busy trying to grapple with the other nations to worry about what is happening right under her nose.

Soon, she is cast off her throne in a loud, messy affair. Screaming and curses fly from the pale queen’s pink lips as Swanwhite watches her sister take everything she’s worked for. The former queen is squirreled away to the mountains that bridge Archenland and Narnia, a hop skip and jump away from the sea. Adonais follows loyally after her, despite Ravenblack’s words of encouragement to stay and serve as her own personal messenger.

Cottonfoot for all his grouchiness, is a loyal subject to Her Majesty Queen Swanwhite. Loyalty is valuable in this business. He is one of the first people the younger ebony haired princess tries to sway. And he’s not stupid. Intelligence ran in the Frank bloodline. So the hare knew that whatever it was that the redhead was doing would be devious and traitorous - the highest form of treason, no doubt. With his exceptional hearing, the brown hare soon finds out her plan and makes his own to counteract it.

He is a guardian of the Old Rites. The story of the beginning. So he will write his own. Of Swanwhite, the queen who would not bow to a man even at the unknown cost of her country. Who possessed beauty far beyond anyone ever known - an image to be remembered long after it had gone. Pass it down through his family. Ink staining his paws for many years to come. His queen shall have the last laugh, he would make sure of it.

“Long live the queen.” Cottonfoot mutters under the light of a burning candle.

#narniaff #narnia #tcon #2017

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conspiracieys-archive · 8 years

Note

List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, whatever.

GASP. its the THING?! thank u so much wtf. i have.. a lot of mag7 wips

Mag7 FO4 AU, Part 8: haven’t really decided what this part’s gonna be abt in detail. cause like, in part 6 i promised parts 7 and 8 would be abt Billy and RH, but part 7 is more just abt Billy & his suppressed memories... i kinda want 8 to be about Billy as R6-25 travelling thru the ‘Wealth, going thru the RR and BOS shit and meeting Goody, but... i got this idea in my head abt R6′s initial introduction 2 the ‘Wealth where he’s scared and alone and then Courser X7-33 finds him and ... feels bad??? bc wouldnt it be something if Billy’s escape was the trigger for Red Harvest’s?

Mag7... Naruto AU?!: so u know those naruto si/oc rebirth fics.. where the character dies and is reborn (usually into Sakura?) in the Naruto universe...? this but Sam dies and is reborn into Sasuke (ive read 2 fics like this and loved one of them and was confused by the other). but usually its OCs/SIs so its easier 2 put it in a particular category but this one gives me all kinds of trouble from writing to posting bc its Sam-centric as he copes in the Naruto world n stuff so its heavier in Naruto elements than mag7 elements.

RedSam Witches AU: i actually have this entire thing planned out. theres like 7 chapters + an epilogue. the matter is... writing it? i have motivation but u know when the words just won’t work? yeah. it’s a spin on a completely different au and, w/ Erin’s help, a lot of the backstories and small details r built up and planned out so it could be its own fic with another set of Slice of Life fics (bc i find Slice of Life so relaxing to work on)

Lil’ Dom, CH6: speaking of slice of life. lil’ dom is my only published gta v fic and its centered around Franklin accidentally becoming Dom Beasley Jr’s dad bc Senior forged Frank’s signature on his will and then committed suicide yanno. but ch6 is.. the Ominous Dr’s visit and frankly i havent been to a doctor in a rly long time so its a lil bit of a struggle to write? but i think after i get all the Big Parenting Chapters done, itll be easier 2 write (big parenting chapters means doctors visits, school enrolling, initial dentist visit (and if i get the first dr visit done, then alls left will b the dentist but Franklin seems like he would put that off bc HE needs to go to the dentist too)) idk this is one of the most calming fics ive ever written and i never... work on it... but i should....

FaraSamQuez 6+1: started a Faraday/Sam/Vasquez loosely based in canon 6+1 fic. (3 times Faraday was jealous of Vasquez interacting with Sam, 3 times Vasquez was jealous of Faraday interacting with Sam, and one time Sam was like ‘why are you both idiots’). its an Everyone Lives/No One Dies ending tho so thats nice

DNA P3: the... 3rd installment in my... Nora/Virgil porn series... after a lot of waffling over what kinks it should be about, i picked one so...

my dark skysolo au: ever wip and ever on going bc sometimes i get New Ideas for it

A Mysterious NoraVirgil fic: ????? i want to fuck super mutants but only the civil ones and theres so few civil mutants. anyway this one would be like 2 or 3 chapters and it would be exploring the affects the Fog has on mutants (inspired by how Erickson reacted 2 the Fog and Vim! when him and his group settled in the Vim! factory) but... yanno... lots of smut bc... god im... i just. Yeah.

a Mysterious EricksonNora fic: i say mysterious but honestly its just gonna be Erickson rawing tf out of Nora in the middle of the Island at like 3am when all the dogs r asleep. dogs asleep, fuck Nora.

VirgilNoraErickson fic: would technically take place in the DNA Universe after Virgil is human. n he decides to go w Nora to Far Harbor (probably w Preston OR Danse but they stay behind when Nora is like ‘i heard abt this Super Mutant in the Island’ and they side eye Virgil and theyre like ‘yeah take him and ur guns’ and thats it (but if Deacon was there he would go ;))) anyway its very... look i just cant write abt Nora/Super Mutant without it being porn bc im an awful human being i guess. but anyway its gonna primarily be Nora fucking Erickson, a mutant, while her beautiful handsome ex-mutant boyfriend jacks it. im just slam dunking all my kinks into Nora and Virgil they make it easy

i think someone requested a NoraRichter sequel months ago?: so that might happen

ok thats enough from me. i probly have more but these r the ones... that i know i need to/want to work on. (except the naruto au. i just want to talk about it with some1 but alas.)

tagging: @fadinglight123 and... honestly idk which ones of u are writers. but i sure as shit know Erin has a Lot of WIPs to talk about ;) so if u wanna do this lmk and i’ll add u to this tag list??

#ask #tag meme #writing tag #thank u anon #:*#anonymous

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indecisivedaisie · 8 years

Note

Can you please answer all the ones for that "send me a #" prompt? I hope you have a lovely day/night! :)

omg help

1: Name - Daisie

2: Age - 18

3: Fears – Falling, Failing, being alone.

4: 3 things I love – Bae, Mac&Cheese, aesthetically pleasing things

5: 4 turns on – Certain Brown eyes, Bae, Intelligence, Cuddling

6: 4 turns off – Smoking, Abusive tendencies, unable to understand Sarcasm, Annoying people

7: My best friend - Bae

8: Sexual orientation – I'm Straight

9: My best first date – Pizza and games

10: How tall am I – Bout 5'7 or 5'8

11: What do I miss – Nothing really

12: What time was I born – 3 am.

13: Favourite color – Light blue

14: Do I have a crush -Duh

15: Favourite quote - "Don’t let anyone trample on your daisies, not even you" is one of them

16: Favourite place – Bae's Arms

17: Favourite food – Mac&Cheese

18: Do I use sarcasm - Yes

19: What am I listening to right now – 80's music

20: First thing I notice in new person – Their mannerisms around others

21: Shoe size – 10 or 11 in womens

22: Eye color - Blue

23: Hair color – Dirty Blonde

24: Favourite style of clothing – Comfy, but cute

25: Ever done a prank call? - Nah

26: Meaning behind my URL – My name is daisie and im indecisive, shocking

27: Favourite movie – Too many to name tbh, but I love Pride & Prejudice or Beauty & the Beast

28: Favourite song – 867-5309 (Jenny) by Tutone

29: Favourite band - Don’t really have one

30: How I feel right now – Tired

31: Someone I love – Bae and my animals.

32: My current relationship status – Taken by Bae

33: My relationship with my parents – KInda iffy, but its okay.

34: Favourite holiday – Its all the same

35: Tattoos and piercing I have – Just my ears pierced

36: Tattoos and piercings I want – Nothing in particular

37: The reason I joined Tumblr – Out of boredom

38: Do I and my last ex hate each other? - I hate him, he still pines after me creepily

39: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? - Always

40: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? - Yup

41: When did I last hold hands? - As a joke the other week with my friend

42: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? - Depends. Min is 10 minutes, max is an hour

43: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days? - Of course

44: Where am I right now? - In my Dorm lobby

45: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? - Bae, but I don’t drink

46: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? - Hella Loud

47: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? - I live in a dorm for most of the year, but breaks is with parents

48: Am I excited for anything? - For this list to be overrr

49: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? Yes

50: How often do I wear a fake smile? When needed

51: When was the last time I hugged someone? Yesterday

52: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? Id be hella pissed

53: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? Not really

54: What is something I disliked about today? All the work im putting in

55: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Idk, I don’t really have an idol to wanna meet

56: What do I think about most? - My life or Bae

57: What’s my strangest talent? Hahah, not telling

58: Do I have any strange phobias? Nothing that is "strange"

59: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Depends on the situation

60: What was the last lie I told? That it was okay for my dad to take money from me

61: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? Either one is fine

62: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? I mean who doesn’t.

63: Do I believe in magic? Wish I had it

64: Do I believe in luck? Sure do

65: What’s the weather like right now? Sunny and breezy

66: What was the last book I’ve read? Persuasion by Jane Austen

67: Do I like the smell of gasoline? Not really, hurts my head

68: Do I have any nicknames? DayDay, Dais, Mazyday, Maebelle

69: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? My heart breaking

70: Do I spend money or save it? Save it

71: Can I touch my nose with a tounge? My mom can, but I cant

72: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me? My phone case has pink on it

73: Favourite animal? Dolphins, elephants

74: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? Playing a game

75: What do I think is Satan’s last name is? Idk

76: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? The same as my fave song

77: How can you win my heart? Honesty, intelligence, beating me at my own banter game

78: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? Not sure, maybe don’t step on me

79: What is my favorite word? Don’t have one

80: My top 5 blogs on tumblr – I enjoy most blogs tbh

81: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? Equal consideration of rights is important.

82: Do I have any relatives in jail? I used to, but theyre not an immediate relative so

83: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? Invisibility and Transportation

84: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? Depends who asks it and what question

85: What is my current desktop picture? A bunch of daisies in the sunset

86: Had sex? TMI

87: Bought condoms? Nope

88: Gotten pregnant? Nope

89: Failed a class? Nope

90: Kissed a boy? Yup

91: Kissed a girl? My mom or a cute little baby

92: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? Nope

93: Had job? Kinda

94: Left the house without my wallet? WHo hasn’t done that

95: Bullied someone on the internet? Of course not

96: Had sex in public? Haha no

97: Played on a sports team? When I was little

98: Smoked weed? Nope

99: Did drugs? Nope

100: Smoked cigarettes? Nope

101: Drank alcohol? Sips, didn’t like it really

102: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? Nah

103: Been overweight? Nah

104: Been underweight? Yeah

105: Been to a wedding? Ive been apart of multiple weddings

106: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? Of course

107: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? Duh

108: Been outside my home country? I wish

109: Gotten my heart broken? Yeah

110: Been to a professional sports game? Yup

111: Broken a bone? Almost broke my elbow once

112: Cut myself? Im more of a scratcher/hitter/smacker

113: Been to prom? Twice

114: Been in airplane? Yup

115: Fly by helicopter? Nope

116: What concerts have I been to? Ive been to a Paul McCartney Concert with my Parents

117: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? Nope

118: Learned another language? Learning French Now

119: Wore make up? Nope

120: Lost my virginity before I was 18? -----

121: Had oral sex? ---

122: Dyed my hair? Nope

123: Voted in a presidential election? I voted in the 2016 election

124: Rode in an ambulance? Nope

125: Had a surgery? Nope

126: Met someone famous? Nope

127: Stalked someone on a social network? Who doesn't?

128: Peed outside? Probs when I was little

129: Been fishing? Yeah

130: Helped with charity? Yes

131: Been rejected by a crush? Who hasn't?

132: Broken a mirror? Yup, bad luck oh fun

133: What do I want for birthday? An ipad maybe, dunno. Wireless earbuds

134: How many kids do I want and what will be their names? 2, Priscilla and Leon

135: Was I named after anyone? Yeah, my aunt Mae

136: Do I like my handwriting? Nope, but I write too fast to care

137: What was my favourite toy as a child? Books

138: Favourite Tv Show? Friends, AHS, Cooking shows/competitions, HGTV

139: Where do I want to live when older? Not where I am now

140: Play any musical instrument? Both my siblings do, but I dont

141: One of my scars, how did I get it? I sliced my finger trying to open advil packets

142: Favourite pizza toping? Bacon and Pineapples

143: Am I afraid of the dark? Im afraid of whats in it

144: Am I afraid of heights?- Im afraid of falling

145: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?- Not yet

146: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end- Sometimes

147: What I’m really bad at – Singing but I do it anyway

148: What my greatest achievments are – going to college, graduating 3rd in my class, being a good person, etc.

149: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me – Cant remember

150: What I’d do if I won in a lottery – Pay all this college debt off, put rest in my savings, see bae.

151: What do I like about myself – I try to like everything

152: My closest Tumblr friend – I talk to @floraldelirium a lot

153: Something I fantasise about – Tons of stuff with bae

154: Any thoughts on the paranormal? Not really besides theyre legit

Thanks for the ask, but man, never again.

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