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sylwanin-was-right · 2 years ago

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How would you rewrite Avatar the Way of Water?

Ooh good question. My answer will evolve overtime, and i need to rewatch the movie a few times and read more reviews from critics and fans to really be comprehensive about my answer, but to start out briefly, I'll bullet point which parts Id rewrite in a different direction or take out entirely:

First act introducing family dynamics - it felt so incredibly rushed. I was really anticipating the return to the forest, expositions about new Omaticaya territory and their culture. I wanted to see how the kids would learn to be Omatikaya for act 1, but we just got short montages of vague locations and implications of "normalcy" before their major displacement again. It didnt feel like enough and it felt like a lot of the lore from Avatar media were overlooked for brief visual immersion. So I would have at least written Jake narrating a longer montage of how the boys and girls grew up learning customs and coming of age rituals/ceremonies. I would include at least a short snippet of how they slowly progressed in appearence from infancy to teenagehood/childhood (like in a fading montage of their bodies and faces aging) so we could better establish their faces, understand their personalities more, and see them be somewhat "normal" before the trauma. I would also make all their births and introductions seem equal in the short montage and narration. It just seemed overtly foreshadowing and neglectful that Neteyam's and Kiri's birth and infancy were emphasized while Lo'ak and Tuk'tirey's were implied with no onscreen time (even though theyre introduced to the audience as literally newborn characters). Hell even Spider had a scene where he was running around the RDA facility as a toddler in a diaper. I just feel like if we're going to have so many characters, all of whom are included throughout the story, they should all be introduced in a way that didnt give away their roles and arcs so overtly and were more likely to connect with through longer screentime.

Jake and Neytiri's kids' interactions with the Ronal and Tonorwari's kids - I dont think these scenes were over extended necessarily. After all, this movie was about the kids mostly. They were just excessive in the "bullies vs. underdogs" format that the writing itself felt childish and redundant. What bothered me most about it was the cruelty of Aonung and his friends and how that never really explained from their cultural or even personal perspectives, so the progression of their cruelty was so exponential it felt outlandish. I would personally take time to build up their tensions through various examples of Jake and Neytiri's kids struggling with or quicky learning varous Metkayina customs, like food prep, ettiquate at eating sites, and even smaller things like making or customizing their saddles for riding or water sports within the clan. This could be in a montage with one major sequence being related to riding their ilu (which would be instrumental to the rest of the film). More time to interact with each other and express their personalities would reveal their cultural attitudes, expand Metkayina lore, and flesh out the characters more realistically.

The emphasis on nuclear family dynamics - I think the patriarchal dynamics Jake and Neytiri's family had and even of Ronal and Tonowari's family were really offputting and uninspired. While it somewhat made sense to portray Jake as overbearing and authoritative, and even bring out his human, military past in a time of war against humans, his role as a father was not explored in ways that were challenged by Indigenous-inspired wisdom about equity and equality in a collective family dynamic. Neytiri was very passive, the way Jake treated the kids was really toxic at times (especially the way he talked to Lo'ak and Neteyam). Tonowari was portrayed as an authoritative leader who's words carried the most weight (though Ronal seemed to be less passive than Neytiri). I would have written the story so that their family transition from tribal to nuclear, and isolated became a deep issue, especially for Neytiri, and that Jake's patriarchal biases and toxic masculinity were clearly issues for Neytiri and the boys. I would also write their family dynamics so the boys wouldnt just be shown doing "masculine" coded things, like being a warrior and recklessly fighting and the girls "feminine" things, like being nurturing. Lo'ak could be shown doing/fixing his hair, Tuk shown practicing archery/hunting, etc. Idk... it just felt that the patriarchal nuclear family dyanmic was never explored to be problematic or even foreign to make the "family is fortress" challenge audiences' pre-existing biases (since it clesrly wasnt true in the film lol). It clashed a lot with the lore and didnt feel inspired by many Indigenous philosophies.

The parallels to the A1 - personally there were too many for me and at times it felt really corny (I dont want Jake to have a catchphrase for defeating his enemies, thanks) lol. A few here and there is fine, especially at the beginning to reintroduce the tone of the film due to the 13 year time gap (like the introduction being a similar camera shot over the forest and Quaritch's quips toward the RECOM fleet), and because making some parallels is just clever writing and also kinda fun. But at times it was just so Not Subtle and felt morelike rehashes than parallels lol.

Introduction to sacred sites - Theyre supposed to be sacred so why are they so accessible to anybody, including children and outsiders, with no sort of onscreen initiation process or supervision lol. Whats the point of having a tsahìk if theres free admission to your most sacred and sensitive sites like a hands on exhibit? LMAO I didnt like how the Tree of Voices was used as a mystical backdrop for Jake and Neytiri's lovemaking and then its destruction hardly mentioned nor reacted to at all by the Omaticaya when the RDA came and literally almost uprooted the entire thing. So when Tsireya, Aonung, and Rutxo took the Omatikaya kids to their Tree of Souls for the exposition of the location, it just felt so cheap? Like you all are children, none of you are spiritual leaders. Why is no one else there? Why is their not initiation process to doing something as sacred as making tsaheylu with it for the firsy time? I think I just would have taken more time to explain what their Tree of Souls was while also having a proper (and brief) initiation process, and also have Ronal and Tonowari have the whole family introduced to the tree to connect to rather than just the kids. I think this could stll smoothly write into Kiri's seizure scene, but this time there would be a collective reaction to her response, and the affects she had on the Tree losing light (something that had significant implications but no further investigation in the film). I think this collective reaction would also make Jake's decision to call for Norm and Max's aid more obviously a problem with both the tracking, and the disrespect of customs of the Metkayina (Ronal had a whole line where she felt her role as Tsahìk was disegarded and that was major).

Amrita and unobtainium's value - It makes sense that there be multiple markets to fund the RDA's missions, so the whaling operation wouldnt have to be cut out. But the anti-aging syrum from the Tulkun being more valuable than the mineral that supposedly powers most of Earth is nonsensical to me and not believable. I guess the nonsense aspect of it is to highlight the irrationality of greed and the West's destructive obsession with youth. But... it just doesnt make sense as a writing choice to justify Scoresby's character and the whaling fleet as antagonists to the Tulkun specifically, and a financial supplement to the RDA. It feels incompatable with the premise that Earth is "overpopulated" (which in and of itself is problematic) because having a population that desperately wants to extend their lives (or seem impossibly young looking) on a planet where youth seems abundant and the kandscape is dystopian is questionable lol. The tulkun hunting fleet could have simply been justified as its own venture capitalist thing among the RDA's forces, and an obvious parallel to the harms of industrial whaling and fishing irl.

Kiri and Neytiri's scene -I wrote about it already but that whole scene with Kiri and Neytiri should have been so much longer and in depth lol

Neytiri and Ronal's first interactions- They should have def been less immediately hostile to each other. The hissing match can be completely cut since it was clearly a misogynistic pun about women being "catty" and having a catfight (the men dismissing them as irrational punctuates this 🙄). Or at least Ronal and Neytiri can have their hissing moment but it should be from an actual buildup of tensions between them living among each other, especialy since Neytiri and Ronal had their Reasons to be uncomfortale with giving and recieving uturu that were already introduced (Neytiri was uncomfortable and traumatized being isolated from her home as a refugee sacrificing herself to protect her people and her children, and Ronal had spiritual suspicions about the integrity of avatars, held xenophobic biases about different Na'vi, didnt like the liability of taking in refugees, and saw Jake as pathetic). I also wrote about this before, but it just felt overtly cruel and unncessary for Ronal and Neytiri to have a brief connection from seeing a Tulkun mother lose her life and her baby. The mother Tulkun didnt have to be Ronal's spirit sister (and honestly calf didnt have to die, too), and Ronal and Neytiri could have resolved their tensions together by bonding over motherhood in other ways, like having a short scene where they work together using their shared tsahìk and healing knowledge to prove theyre more alike than different and should be cooperative, or hell, bonding over takin care for the Tulkun mother's orphaned calf. I just really didnt like how Cameron portayed Ronal and Neytiri and their introducton was super bad. A lot could have been explored from their shared identities as mothers, tsahìk, "wives", and people who had something to learn from others (and ofc having a shared enemy).

Underwater scenes with the kids - I'm sorry but these could have been so much shorter lol. This is def my own bias as I dont care to see things in 3D, and while the scenes were dazzling (and I personally didnt have a problem with the slower pacing of act 2 because I like longer slice of life shots), it felt these scenes overlapped with act 1 where a lot of content and development could have been revealed about Jake and Neytiri's family, the Omatikaya, the Metkayina, and even the RDA (like Bridgehead's size and development). Ofc I wouldnt cut these scenes entiely because they are beautiful and important; they show the initiation process of learning a vital skill among the Metkayina as well as their character development learning different philosophies about water, etc. And after all, Avatar as a franchise is known for being a visual, escapist spectacle. But they felt quite overextended for act 2, so I'd simply make the underwater exposition scenes a bit shorter lol.

Theres def more and I'll update this post as I think of more and rewatch the film!

#askbox #oel.mine #avatar 2 #avatar film #james cameron avatar #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #jake sully #ronal #neytiri #awow review

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lostinfantasyworlds · 3 years ago

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Hi! First of all, I just wanna say that UNTL is definitely one of my best reads this year. Thank you for sharing that masterpiece.

What should we look forward to next year? Any WIPs?

Omgggg I am so honored sldkfja;sd thank you so so so much 🥺😭 ❤️I just —

I do have a few WIPs and I will give little summaries of each under the cut!! They are in order of when I will most likely finish them)

Under the Northern Lights post-canon PWP oneshot - I’ve had all kinds of little snippets pop into my head of Inuyasha and Kagome’s lives together within the UTNL universe, and I always write them down. Most of them are smutty because I can’t seem to help myself hahahaha. This one is the most fully-formed idea that I had a few months ago, and wrote down a whole rough draft in my phone. It actually takes place on New Year’s Eve, which is why I was hoping to have finished UTNL well before the end of the year so that I could have posted this follow up oneshot on/around NYE, but OH WELL. It’s mostly just porn anyways, but includes a tiny hint of plot that actually ties in with the epilogue! (you will see a reference to “New Year’s” in the epilogue, so just know that you will eventually be getting to read the whole story 😉)

The First and Last - Modern AU that could either be a long oneshot or a multi-chapter depending on how long it ends up being. Currently it's only about 4.5k words, but still super rough so it could definitely end up being multi-chapter. I'm so excited about this one because childhood-best-friends-to-lovers is one of my all-time favorite tropes (Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable were my first ship before I even knew what shipping was...), and now I'm FINALLY going to have a story of my own using that premise! This story is inspired by the summers I spent as a kid at my grandparent's cottage in Maine. It was in a very tiny coastal town, and was on a quiet street with a few other summer homes, so I would see the same kids every year and we would all hang out. And I may have had a smol crush on one of the boys that I would see each summer😏. So this story is InuKag in a very similar situation!! I love this one and can't wait to share once I go back and fill in all of the middle parts 🥰

Sometime Around Midnight - Modern AU multi-chapter based on a song of the same name by The Airborne Toxic Event. I actually came up with this as my first multi-chapter AU back in January/February before UTNL randomly forced its way into my brain and took up my entire life for the rest of the year. I'm still really excited about this one, and have a whole elaborate backstory planned out, but am actually really stuck on how I want the plot to go past the initial couple of chapters (which starts off as pretty much just a retelling of the lyrics of the song). It won’t be super long, probably only 3 - 5 chapters, but I really can't decide on an interesting enough way to end it 😆. I'll figure it out eventually, though!

The Girl at the Rock Show - Modern AU enemies-to-lovers fic that I wrote for @goshinote’s birthday back in October! I was only able to get it to the point of being a super rough draft (that was still over 6k) by the time of her birthday, but I promised to get back and finish it eventually, which I still plan to do! I debated whether to publish it, since it’s very much written for Jane and her interests with lots of inside jokes/references lol , but I figure I might as well share it because someone else might enjoy too! The basic premise is that Inuyasha and Kagome are both working at a concert venue and do not get along at first. But....✨sexual tension✨is there and so begins a FWB type of situation that of course turns into something more...

A couple of canon-based very short oneshots - I have ideas for little missing scenes I would’ve loved to see in canon every so often, and have a couple of rough drafts written. One is my version of a little follow-up to the almost kiss in TFA episode 18, and the other is a post-canon idea of how InuKag’s first kiss might have happened based on the manga where they never kissed inside the jewel! Both are short and sweet and very fluffy. I started off with most of my ideas being canon-based, so I like to return to that as kind of my bread and butter after writing a lot of AU. I just love love love Inuyasha and Kagome’s dynamic in canon, and I consider it a fun challenge to write within that world and keep them as in character as possible!

Apart and Together (very tentative title, pls ignore lol) - This is actually the first fic I ever started writing after finishing the series! It is basically just my ideas of what might’ve happened during the 3 year separation, and how their reunion would have gone. It’s actually already like 20k words hahaha, but I started it so long ago when I knew nothing about writing, and have shifted my views on certain things, so it will require a lot of editing/restructuring to get it finished. Eventually!

Untitled Multi-Chapter epic-style long fic based on Darling in the Franxx - Post-apocalypse AU where demons (led by Naraku) have taken over the world and humans are forced to live in small areas under constant attack. Inuyasha and Kagome (and others) are paired up on a mission to gather fragments of the Shikon Jewel, in an effort to stop Naraku from getting them first. They don’t get along at all at first, but learn to trust and rely on each other over time, although they grew up as part of a selection of kids that were raised to be soldiers so they don’t know much about humanity/love/etc. Also there is a twist! The premise is loosely based on the anime Darling in the Franxx, minus the sexual robot stuff hahaha. This will probably take me forever to write tbh. I have a loose idea of the plot, but nothing really written so far. I want to write the entire thing before posting, so it might not end up getting posted next year but we'll see!

That is ALL of my WIPs that have actually been fleshed out into full story ideas! I have a handful of random scenes jotted down in my phone that could potentially become stories if I thought about them a little more, but I don’t like to have too many open WIPs at once, so I’ll try and get a few of those out before trying to come up with anything else.

Thank you SO SO much for this question, and for your support of UTNL! It means the world ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

#ama #ask me anything

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anolyso · 3 years ago

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Utena thoughts...about 2 weeks later

I've been putting it off for way too long and so most of my thoughts stopped being fresh. On top of watching way too many analysis vids post-watch, but still I do at least want to put my 2cents of Revolutionary Girl Utena out there for the world.

Utena is perhaps one of the most famous "magical girl"/shoujo action shows out there for not only it's transgressive themes of relationship abuse and low-key pretty much being the poster girl for like actual feminist perspective on/in anime...but also just doing it all in both a heavily allegorical and understated, yet super over-the-top stylish fashion

But that's it's reputation preceding itself, is Utena worth while all these years? The answer is Yes, but it also really shows it's age and budget in pacing and repetition, tho as an appreciator for "behind the scenes" compromises in art, it's more showcasing Ikuhara's talent in working around both taboo and long-form budget constraints with just well-thought out and iconic imagery that - while episodic and formulaic - is just very good at filling the 39 eps with feasts for the eyes.

Utena broadly is about tomboy Utena with memories long ago after her parents died being "saved" by a princely figure like a princess...except she's so enthralled by the nostalgia that instead she becomes a full on Prince herself and receives a dueling ring to fight in the Ohtori Acadamy secret duels for "engagement" to Rose Bride Himemiya Anthy.

Utena is divided between 4 arcs, only the first and last being Manga adapted from hearsay:

1: Student Council Saga

2: Black Rose Saga

3: Akio Ohtori Saga

4: Apocalypse

From back to forth I'd say that Akio + Apoc is more just escalation into the finale while Black Rose being anime original comes off as a glorified side-character study which while complementing the secondary cast, feels like one of those Anime movies that has to say "but if you don't watch this part, it's pretty much optional for the main plot" despite it also actually introducing the most important antagonist within it's margins.

More importantly, it's the Student Council (arc and the actual people) that lay the foundation but also a large part of the show's focus which ironically puts Utena in the background until like almost the finale and some in-between developments, so it's less "Utena (and Anthy Himemiya)'s story" until the very end, but more like a showcase of how fucked up the system at large is (pin in that).

By the Council themselves is:

Kyouichi Saionji: The biggest jobber, like actually introduced as the most despicable loser ep 1 and proceeds to be a complete arrogant joke for the rest of the show. Honestly in another shojo "love" story, they'd find some way to redeem him but semi-compellingly they turn him into like an Aqua-lad type pathetic brat with an inferiority complex to the actual Student head

Miki Kaoru: the naive "nice, non-threatening soft boy" that also just never actually listens to the girls around him. Probably adds more complexity to the whole patriarchal idea on analytic reflection since yeah, the whole "nice guy finishes last" plays up better when the kid comes off as that "ally" energy of wanting to save Himemiya from being the Rose Bride but also low-key won't actually not just do the duels and win her cuz he's that sorta wishy-washy hypocrite. Arguably the least hateable guy in the cast (minus mascot Chu-Chu)

Juri Arisugawa: TRAGIC LESBIAN TRIANGLE LOVE. Probably the biggest point to of both "not-explicitly homosexual" but also really freaking obvious since her entire story is her girlfriend stealing her "boy crush" when actually she was crushing on her and being pretty much frustrated throughout her story as pining most of it. It's quaint by today's standards but also like damn girl, get over her she was like the worst back stabbing bitch (literally if Black Rose counts)

Nanami Kiryuu: SPEAKING OF QUEEN BITCH, it's been a long time since I've watched a High School girl bully and honestly it's kinda refreshing. If Miki is "soft-boy uwu" Nanami is a brat that gets her come-uppance often, featured prominently as an anime only with the MOST filler/comedic episodes but also not low-key, being the most out-spoken actual brother complex ironically spins perhaps the biggest twist and ironic relationships of "I love my brother but not-like-that but also like-that" by the end. Mostly comedic relief but I find her inclusion to actually add a lot more to juxtapose...

Touga Kiryuu: Big Student Council Prez himself, the first arc antagonist and also a strong foil to Saionji and later a stepping stone for Akio. Touga is THE image of a Princely Playboy Heart-Throb that in any other Shoujo romance would have the main girl win him over from all those "other girls" despite him being apathetic if not outright manipulative of them. Good thing Utena is better than that and really puts a spotlight on just not-actually-ok his power hunger for "the power to bring the world revolution" that leads him to heavily objectify Anthy, arguably even more than Misogynist Trophy Girlfriend beater Saionji, since he doesn't even see her as more than a means to an end despite professing and looking the Prince part but lacking all the actual virtues.

The Student council matters more since they're characters and subsequent tragic flaws are the ACTUAL meat of the show and on second rumination actual shows more how fucked up the system/gender dynamic/power hierarchy is since - while it blatantly fucks over Juri who can't just outright say who she likes - also show almost it's own sub-text of Masculine failings: Saionji desperately clinging to being TOXIC MASCULINE™ and completely falling short underneath Touga; Miki's "nice boy" act belying him trying to replace his low-key nostalgia for his sister (also a bitch, but apparently was more like Nanami in the manga); and best yet Touga being the quintessential "Prince in all but actual behavior" by emulating a cutthroat and Machiavellian world view but coming up empty because well, he's just an illusion of a prince...but that leads in way more to the big finale piece where I'll reintroduce the actual story's main trio

Utena Tenjou: Tomboy Prince with brain empty except for lesbian thoughts. Honestly probably what every western "STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMAN" archetype wishes they were since while having very tomboyish personality in athletics, blunt speaking and also VERY oblivious to the actual plot for REAL DRAMATIC IRONY, but also never actually demeaning her being feminine partially due to her love of an childhood prince and how she maintains her relationship with both her friend Wakaba and later Anthy. Honestly mostly a plot device after S1 until she gets ACTUAL development by the very end and instead kinda bumbles her way into undoing the entire REVOLUTION OF THE WORLD. I kinda wish she felt either more cognizant or at least felt like she was developing/properly rebuking the rest of the cast's power obsessions but I guess that's for the movie.

Anthy Himemiya: Actual Trophy Wife with a dark secret (darker than ski- wait no that's terrible scratch that). Set-up very much as an immediate princess in distress while also being the most femme Yamato Nadeshiko, Anthy being the Rose Bride as a literal prize who acts and behaves as whom she's "engaged" with desires while otherwise being quiet, wry, mysterious and noticably submissive, by the end it actually plays up into THE BIG REVEALS of just how abused she's been into a hopeless acceptance...like y'know actual abuse victims.

Akio Ohtori: Grade A Antagonist, probably the most insidious I've seen a villain in a while, Akio is notable for, back in 1997, being perhaps the big go-to of actual deconstructing the facade of a whole shoujo genre's "hots for a teacher/sexy man putting the moves" and highlighting how actually exploitative and abusive a person like that really is. Being Himemiya's brother (somewhat justified in the manga by both being a weird Sailor Moon-esque reincarnation of gods/godesses of Dios), despite how much of his motives are runing the background and how the entire back story is uh...brought up in like barely in the last arc with little lead up (some scenes feel like they'd be a full melodrama season and they just have like 1 scene in the final arc episodes) he manages to one-up Touga (in the plot as well) by instead of "just" objectifying girls, not-just-flat out saying Utena looks best as a princess, but y'know the fact that he is implicitly yet constantly exploiting and victim-blaming Anthy for her own suffering for "the power of Dios/Revolution of the world" turns it on its head

I've spent all this time on characters but in truth a lot of the meat of the show relies again on the Council Members fleshing out the issues of system leading to outright divorcing "being a Prince" (heroic altruistic virtues) and "being a man" (considering like all but maybe the comedic relief have some deliberately misogynistic behavior) and beyond just the plot (or rather character) synopsis, the talent goes far more in how it's framed, the symbolic/allegorical shots, the repetition adding a good episode formula flow to character showcases, probably the most "tasteful" allusion to uh...*ahem* sexual abuse that so many other edgier/prentious shows fumble. Both in how intimidating yet understated it's foreshadowing is until they hard-reveal it despite never explicitly naming it even tho it sends Nanami into hysterics

Really it's both a massive blessing and reason for it's cult beloved status for it's aesthetics but also it's burden, for being a full 39 episodic season by season character development study of everyone BUT the main trio except for snippets and the very end that makes it greatly appreciable as a legitimate work of art.

What I wanted more to say however (long overdue) is that a large part of following is, visibly at least, western feminist critiques and yes while it almost seems like Utena fits the "deconstructing patriarchy" story like a glove...it's weird how almost none of them actually can give a good historical account of actual Japanese female/gender/sexuality norms nor Anime contemporaries actually were. Like Tenchi Muyo and Berserk came out the same year (Cardcaptor Sakura the next) and despite how you can "feel" the influence in lots of modern shows like SHAFT's signature visual imagery cuts or many WESETERN shows having straight scene references to Utena....almost no one has a similar feel to Utena until like Princess Tutu comes out.

Really tho probably should've watched Utena and then Tutu because while it's undeniable that Utena is a major pillar of shoujo re-codification - what with everyone before Utena was saying they thought it'd be like a Rose of Versaille or Lady Knight rip-off...whose laughing now? - it's almost like there's a missing link between it and it's major western fanbase (probably with what few anime did get overseas, this one probably rose to the top), or how very noticeable there IS an influence on it's genre in Japan

Almost none of the big analyst fans actually know A) it's not "a deconstruction of Magical Girls" since despite Ikuhara working on Sailor Moon just before this, almost none of the tropes line up and instead more with Shoujo genre as a whole. or one of the major inspirations was Takarazuka theater.

And this is not to dismiss how inspirational it is to it's western fandom, but while I am notably cynical towards placing things on pedestals, there's probably something about cultivating the whole pop-culture feminist reading commune with people making weird time-loop theories while kinda most of it is just filling in a mad-lib mostly thanks to Ikuhara just keeping things on the vague and letting the audience take away their own perspective.

Again, most of the show is completely sub-textual or visually/symbolically depicted and never stated nor properly defines it's weird key words (End of the World, Revolutionize the World, Power of Dios, Rose Bride, all things said constantly but never really said what they "mean". But that's also perhaps its charm, in it's allegory and very Death of the Author approach, it has definitely allowed it's fan theorizing and appreciation to flourish so there's something there for that.

Ultimately I'd say Utena the TV series is great more so for what it isn't...or rather I should say it's great for not just subverting Shoujo tropes and archetypes for the Japanese audience but also that despite dealing with some very serious and heavy subjects in obtuse and perhaps understated ways for the time, people have allowed it to be put on it's pedestal because they can easily fit it in themselves.

Honestly though, not that a more "straight forward" approach wouldn't detract from Utena but I will say that the movie, Adolescence of Utena, is very much the best encapsulation of what Utena strives to be (for another big blog post) and while the TV series has plenty of time and flexes it's directorial muscles with budget constraints and season pacing UNrestrained, the movie will trim a lot of the fat

#long post #Revolutionary Girl Utena #I haven't actually done my Anime thoughts in a while #Maybe I'll keep this on my main blog this time #I wrote this mostly on facebook tho if I wrote it here first I'd better integrate images probably #anolyso's media time #uh...except now that's on my main blog

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loveinterestcastiel · 3 years ago

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hot new little theory fresh off the press

so the 15x18 trailer included confession scene footage i will identify as being from the ‘gay’ take ie they were allowed to show more emotion/improvise more (they def kisssd bro speight let them make it gayer) and we know jensen had a crew member record the entire scene on his phone. hmm. incheresting

unfortunately due to what we can assume was pure corporate panic during the COVID hiatus they decided to mostly go with the ‘straight’ gen take. BUT they mashed little bits of the gay take in that are super incongruous with the rest of the scene (dean is looking vaguely sad or confused. he turns to look at the empty as it arrives and is suddenly full on crying. he turns back and his emotions turn back off)

compelling to think that they might have done two full completely tonally different takes of the scene in addition to angle changes/closeup snippets in both styles

compelling to think they switched which style would air at the last minute

COMPELLING to think that the editors spliced the final version of the scene together the way they did on purpose. dean appears to fall the wrong way on purpose. they’re positioned strangely and unpredictably from shot to shot on purpose. dean’s emotions change like wild on purpose. it’s bad on purpose. bc people who worked on the show were pissed and short for time and that’s what they could do to dogwhistle to people that they got screwed by corporate before the final episodes aired! like the entirety of atomic monsters, basically

i’m sure people have thought this before me but idk. just making connections.

#also I’m a they kissed truther #get with it #destiel

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luna-rainbow · 3 years ago

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Sorry, didn't mean to go off on in response to that ask 😬😖 but it's so frustrating how both Sam and Bucky got nerfed so hard in regards to their abilities. Idk whether it's laziness, or lack of understanding around fight choreography or what.

I remember watching as it aired, and Bucky's downgrading was so obvious to the point of it being painful (like the fight on the trucks. Barely able to stay upright in a fight against untrained (albeit) super soldier's, when we have literally witnessed him mowing through multiple highly trained super soldiers before.)

But after it finished, and after rewatching tws and cw it struck me how much they downgraded Sam too. We've only seen him fight in short snippets before, but he is highly competent. And there's no doubt in my mind that he's even better than what we've seen.

They didn't have to downgrade Bucky in order to showcase Sam, because Sam was already on par with Bucky, just with a different skillset/fighting style. They could have been presented as equals, and complementary to each other, but instead they... Idk even what they did really. It's sort of like they pitted their styles against each other's instead of using it as an opportunity to show how they grew and worked together as a team. Idk... Sorry to rant in your inbox, feel free to ignore 😅

(Yay I finally got the chance to answer! (And sorry it got super long)

Honestly I’m on a bit of a TFATWS criticism spree here so please stop reading if you love this show.

I think the problem is (at minimum) twofold:

A) Most of the action scenes only served to move people from place to place without regard to what this meant for their characterisations.

The net result is that out of all the characters it was John Walker who got the main character treatment of having a logical character arc and fight scenes that all served to build on his character.

1 - Truck fight: Sam and Bucky are BOTH nerfed in order for Walker to save them. This was supposed to establish Walker as well-intentioned and on par with our heroes. Except both Sam and Bucky were clearly punching wayyyy below their movie level while waiting for him to arrive. 2 - Wakandan fight: This fight served as a turning point for John as he became overwhelmed by a sense of inadequacy. However, to set up this fight, SAM went out of character to stop John from taking Zemo (this part was completely inane because Zemo ran away after this so clearly they didn't need him). And don't get me started on how Bucky went out of character to upset the Wakandans in the first place to set up this fight. 3 - Lemar/Flag Smasher death fight: I mean, let's be real, the protagonist of this entire fight was John. The target was John, the death was John's friend, the one who underwent major character evolution was John. Sam and Bucky were both on the sidelines, pulling their punches (although there's adequate in-plot justification for this). 4 - John vs Sam & Bucky fight: I already wrote half a chapter with Sam raging at Bucky's awful fighting style here so I'm not going to do it again LOL. But even SAM was brought down a peg to let John be a threat. Sam landed like...3 punches before he was pinned down and had his wings ripped off. And the characterisation in this fight? I'd say it built more of John getting deranged with the serum (don't @ me, he aimed for Sam and Bucky's heads multiple times while they were down)...with maybe a character beat for Sam coming to terms with the shield at the end. 5 - Final fight: Sam got some good sequences (I'm not sold on the Batroc fight), but John was able to finish off his character arc by a redemption. I'm not going to comment on Bucky because it will just remind me of Spellman's infuriating quote.

In other words, John was the only one in the series where the fights themselves told a coherent story, and in fact Sam and Bucky’s characters were warped to facilitate this. Examined purely from the quality of character development to the care paid to consistency and continuity, you’d think John was the main character, and that’s just...ironic.

B) A conscious decision to make Sam and Bucky not carry any arms against the Flag Smashers.

I feel like this is to parallel current events with Sam and Bucky representing police, and the Flag Smashers representing POC youths. Without getting into whether this allegory is appropriate or effective: it takes away what Sam and Bucky have been using in previous movies. Sam was always backed up by guns in the air, and Bucky also either used guns or knives. The easy fallback is to say that they seem weaker because they're not using weapons anymore, but it doesn't have to be this way.

As I said in my earlier post, Gundam Seed showed it is absolutely possible to have a main character who is staunchly non-lethal but still kicks major ass.

I know Kira has a lot of detractors but here's his signature move: disarm enemy armoured suits without killing the pilots. (GIF by mecha-gifs)

I know this is obviously a completely different type of fighting but Kira, as a main character, sustained this philosophy for the majority of 2 seasons of 50 episodes. He also started off in a basic suit which doesn't let him disarm multiple enemies like this, so his earlier fights were all "hand to hand" fights but he still managed to (mostly) avoid killing people. What I mean is, if they really tried, they could definitely make Sam and Bucky kick ass while being non-lethal. They just...didn't try.

#sorry to go on a tangent #once again horrified by the length of my own post #gundam seed #tfatws critical

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sleepymccoy · 5 years ago

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sleepy’s fic masterlist

Doing this cos I wanted to! And I can’t find the short things I’ve written on tumblr half the time, so i wanted a place to go to find them. I’ll edit this whenever I post something new and give it a quick reblog when I do <3

Tumblr shorts

Inventions and Ice-cream

A chererful conversation between Crowley and Aziraphale about their favourite invention humans have come up with. Also read for hand holding, ice-cream, and macking out against the Bentley door. Goes hard on the hand holding stuff

1600-ish words

What kind of lover are you?

Filled a prompt, wing grooming by South Downs. It turned into something very soft, very loving, with some acknowledgement of the aftereffects of trauma and constant threat and the anxiety that would be on you from that. Also, some nice massaging and snark from the main two. I feel like I’m getting a hug when I read this, thb

1200-ish words

Chamomille

Aziraphale notices Crowley getting tired and swings into action with a prepared bedtime routine. Crowley is not consulted. Very short and sweet

350-ish words

Monsieur and Difficult Topics

Crowley and Aziraphale are having a meal together after the apocalypse. Crowley says they're not friends and a very challenging conversation follows as Aziraphale tries to correct this. This is a pre romance thing, so they finish having had a worthwhile conversation, not leaping into dating

2000-ish words

Burnt Coffee and Crosswords

Crowley stumbles out of bed and finds that Aziraphale has, yet again, snuck into his flat while he was asleep. Fluff and fondness ensue

1000-ish words

Absolutely Adorably Nauseating

Outsider POV of Aziraphale and Crowley having very dramatic public fights. Three different stories. Mainly meant to be funny, but has some nice fluff in it

2000-ish words

How can someone as clever as you be so handsome?

Aziraphale remembers Crowley calling him clever in an angry moment and fondly teases him for it. Very fluffy.

1000-ish words

Gifts

Through the years Crowley has been giving Aziraphale gifts that are, overwhelmingly, in poor taste. Fluffy and silly, has pictures

2000-ish words

An Unpleasant Suprise

A butteromens effort. The similar fics were Aziraphale saving Crowley from Gabriel, I wanted to do a twist that had Crowley more engaged in the fight. Turns into an awful lot of flirting and the like at the end, it’s a fun read. Quick warning for a brief decrip of gore from being burnt, but I move on pretty fast

3500-ish words

A New Eden

Filled a prompt; “I’m going to need you to put some underwear on before you say anything else.” It’s not sexy, but by the virtue of the prompt there is dick. Mostly speechless Crowley, though.

1200-ish words

Entirely Unapologetic

Filled a prompt; “so why did I have to punch that guy?” Features protective Crowley and blustering Aziraphale

500-ish words

Be Unashamed With Me

Crowley’s waiting for Aziraphale to leave a church and as he waits he gets a bit sad about his demon-hood and remembers how hopeless he was before he and Aziraphale got together. When Aziraphale joins him a lot of fluff and compliments follow to cheer Crowley up. Which works. Gets a bit flirty.

1500-ish words

Climb Every Mountain

In the biblical narrative, God tells Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac, on Moriah. Abraham begins to comply, when a messenger from God interrupts him. Abraham then sees a ram and sacrifices it instead. In the me narrative, Crowley does a favour for Aziraphale then swiftly changes his mind and doesn’t let the kid be killed.

1200-ish words

How Many Ways Can I Say...

A very short form fic, more a casual tumblr post, but it has some cute descriptions of different ways Aziraphale can sat I love you to Crowley

500-ish words

AO3 links

If You Like

link to tumblr promo post

link to some relevant art

a take on the few days between apocalypse and the body switch, cos Aziraphale goes from surprised at Crowley offering to let him crash at his apartment, to swapping bodies and letting Crowley risk himself. So it’s following Aziraphale’s trauma and consideration. Lots of bed sharing and a very fluffy body-positivity ending with Aziraphale’s golden stretch marks.

10,000-ish words

Nothing’s Changed

link to tumblr promo post

A week into July and Crowley has finished sleeping in. He gives Aziraphale a ring and receives a very frosty reception. Although Aziraphale insists nothing has changed, Crowley suspects otherwise. Fic includes Aziraphale pinching Crowley to prove he’s not dreaming

2000-ish words

Slipped My Mind

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Crowley and Aziraphale are so used to not being in a relationship that its quite easy to slip into old habits and forget that they’re allowed to touch now. A bit of angst, but mostly fluffy as they get used to this new normal.

6000-ish words

Requisite Lockdown Fic

link to tumblr promo post

This was actually a tumblr short fic I wrote, but it got crazy out of hand and the format is much easier on ao3 so I’m linking it here. Told entirely through phone calls in the same format as the lockdown youtube special. Crowley is setting boundaries for the first time and Aziraphale is struggling to adjust to these new rules. But it goes well

4000-ish words

To Seduce, Beguile, and Entice

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Crowley isn’t any good at seduction temptations. This comes up one night and Aziraphale is concerned because he’s seduced in Crowley’s name before. All part of the Arrangement. So, of course, the only solution is for Aziraphale to teach Crowley how to seduce. It gets out of hand quickly. The last chapter is post apocalypse and Crowley tries his hand at seducing Aziraphale in a very intentionally referential way, as a kind of method to express that he’s actually interested in a relationship.

10,000-ish words

Still Waking Up

link to some relevant art

link to tumblr promo post

Follows the pair for about two years after the apocalypse as Crowley is behaving oddly and Aziraphale is figuring everything out. This is your trauma recovery fic! Crowley has nightmares and a fear of fire and some abandonment. Aziraphale is lonely and feels deeply incompetent and lost, as well as having not fully resolved some of his issues with Heaven. They learn how to be on their own side together rather than keeping it all separate and protective. Also, bed sharing.

30,000-ish words

Not Quite Human

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Omnipotent POV (but not god) that sorta swaps between them. It’s just a simple 18 hours or so in the shop on afternoon as they’ve begun to get more physically affectionate. This is a decent mutual pining fic. I tried to lean into the real not-human stuff they’ve both got going on. It’s your classic admission of love fic with plenty of panicking Crowley. Features some smut with a sex-positive, asexual Aziraphale and a sex-neutral, demisexual Crowley.

10,000-ish words

the kind of thing one says easily

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This is my silly take on an au. Everything is exactly the same but they actually communicate honestly occasionally. Wild, I know. We follow Crowley and Aziraphale through moments of time in their history (some canon friendly, like follow ons from scenes in the tv show, some made up) as Crowley quite simply tells Aziraphale that he loves him. And Aziraphale gets used to it and learns to be honest in return. Things really come to a head as the apocalypse approaches. The last chapter is a sex scene, but it’s very very loving rather than smutty.

15,000-ish words

Soft.

link to tumblr promo post

This is a very fluffy fic. Crowley tells Aziraphale he has a nice body and it dredges up Aziraphale’s residual concerns over what Gabriel said and in the panic-fueled conversation that follows as Crowley tries to right his wrong they slowly step in sync into discussing their feelings and wants. This fic is the big three, communication, consent, and soft. (gets a bit sexy too, but it’s pretty tame)

10,000-ish words

Is It Worth It Yet

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Around abouts the 1000AD mark, in what would become Turkey a few hundred years later, Crowley sat down, took a breath, and told Aziraphale how he feels in a total trainwreck of a conversation. Chapter 1, that conversation. Of course, Aziraphale would then expect Crowley to bring it all up again after the apocalypse, and when he doesn't he decides to take matters into his own hands and broach the topic himself. It doesn't go as well as he'd hoped. Good ending tho, don't worry guys. If you need an overload of angst then a big old hug to pull you up again, this is a good one.

10,000-ish words

Summoned

link to relevant (lemon) art

link to tumblr promo post

Post apocalypse, timeline unspecified. Heaven and Hell refangle the way humans summonings work so it only applies to Aziraphale and Crowley. This means Crowley finds himself summoned an awful lot more than usual. We see their relationship readjust after the apocalypse in snippets of moments as Crowley’s been summoned. It’s mostly fairly light hearted, but there’s a couple chapters of pretty good angst and one very sexy chapter at the end! Just straight up smut, of the light d/s variety

13,000-ish words

Try Some Pride On For A Day

link to some relevant art

link to tumblr promo post

Shortly after the apocalypse, Aziraphale set a challenge down. Sin vs virtue. Each chapter shows an attempt from Crowley to get Aziraphale to succumb to sin, and Aziraphale tricking Crowley into performing a virtue. Some attempts are easier than others, some are impossible. They learn a lot about each other and slip into some unexpectedly honest moments. This one gets sexy but not out of hand. Aziraphale is pretty explicitly asexual.

20,000-ish words

Needed a break, gone to France x

link to tumblr promo post

A few weeks after the apocalypse and Crowley goes to visit Aziraphale to find a note taped to his door. Panic, anxiety, and general sadness over being so broken up with ensue. This is a miscommunication fic with a writing style that leans toward humour rather than angst and has a nice fluffy ending with good asexual overtones

9000-ish words

Heresy

link to tumblr promo post

Set 3000 years after the apocalypse. Crowley and Aziraphale live together and are romantic. They have been left not entirely alone by their old colleagues, but they are unthreatened so it’s all okay. Until one day Beelzebub and Gabriel drop by to visit in the most surprising way. This fic is my first and was written before the discussion of Beelzebubs pronouns kicked off, so I used the actresses pronouns (she/her) instead of they/them which I’ve used since when referring to Beelzebub

2500-ish words

#sleepy writes #good omens fic #good omens fic rec #ineffable husbands #i enjoyed going over some old fics!#imma read summoned tonight i like that one a lot #and maybe is it worth it #that still upsets me #altho i have an angsty wip im theoretically working on #so maybe ill dive into that #we'll see #edit #ive added links to tumblr posts #i cant believe i found them all #that was some trawling through old posts

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mirohtron · 3 years ago

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im writing a seungjin fic ! bc i had a dream abt one specific scene ! and now i have made a fanfiction where stray kids are lgbt+ as hell, and i have still not completed the first chapter. but ! i am impatient, so, snippet time

Hyunjin scrunched his nose at the bitter-looking coffee in front of him. It was pitch black inside the Costco cup; a deep, dark void daring him to take a sip from its dark matter.

Hyunjin was no wuss.

He took the lid and closed the cup, taking it in his hands and taking a sip from the opening. Bitter hot coffee burnt his tongue, and Hyunjin brought the cup down. He turned to the plant next to his table and scrunched his face further, sticking his tongue out and breathing like a baby dragon. Thankfully he was sitting next to the window, so no one inside the café saw his suffering.

But outside, on the other hand…

Hyunjin, to his horror, saw two feet pass by the cement on the other side of the glass and slow to a stop in front of him. He looked up, horror plunging into his stomach, and there stood a boy with squirrel cheeks and beady eyes, phone in hand, looking down at Hyunjin, making direct eye contact with him. There was no clear emotion on his face but his eyes were filled with pure judgement and bewilderment.

Hyunjin's throat screamed to open and make him say something once the eye contact started lasting an unnatural amount of time (5 seconds).

So he said the snarkiest, wittiest, most charismatic thing that came to mind.

"Hi…?"

He can't hear me through the glass you fucking idiot.

The boy gave no reaction of acknowledgement and proceeded to swiftly walk away. Hyunjin automatically sulked, folding in on himself in mortification. From the drink opening, the endless void of the coffee seemed to stare at him with mirth, like a shit-eating grin would be on its face if it were human. Hyunjin pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth at the bitter aftertaste of the beverage. He side-eyed the counter, where Minho stood, one hand on the counter and shooting him an icy stare.

He looked back at the cup of coffee, the warm material of the paper cup warming his fingers. Over an accidental insult?

Pettiness overload. But it was forgivable. Minho was Hyunjin's friend and Hyunjin would, absolutely without hesitation, murder a hoe for him.

Hyunjin stared at the cup in his hands, debating on whether he should pour it into the plant beside him or not. Sugar definitely wouldn't help its taste. He gazed at the words raised on the lid, spelling diet. At least it wasn't Kim Seungmin who had seen him. Kim Seungmin and his pretty, square-ish squishy face, his bright smile, his eyes that seemed like they would—

Minho coughed a cough too loud for it to not be on purpose, and cleared his throat much more loudly, and then proceeded to give Hyunjin a look that was practically shooting simp at the man (boy? ban? mboy?? the manuscript has man and boy crossed out one after the other please help me???) with the intent to hurt.

Hyunjin let out a heavy sigh, then almost laughed at how comical the situation was. Minho got tired of how much Hyunjin talked about Seungmin sometimes. Hyunjin understood it was probably because last time he cried over his crush, they happened to be crushing on someone else, resulting in Hyunjin staying up most of the night sulking and forcing his poor friend to suffer with him. So naturally, Hyunjin would say it was one of the many, many embarrassing memories that kept him awake at night.

Clink!

Hyunjin looked up to see who else had entered the shop, relief washing over him once he saw the new customer was Chan. Then that relief was pushed away and he chided himself, because, Hyunjin, he isn't going to drink your coffee for you, you dumb fuck.

But he still wanted to make small talk with Chan, simply because Chan was a nice person. And they were reasonably close, since they were roommates for their first two years in college.

He watched Chan not notice him and walk straight to the counter, where he placed his order to the cashier with an unbelievably bright face. Hyunjin always wondered how he managed to outshine the sun when he ran on mostly caffeine and barely any sleep. Minho was the total opposite, in Hyunjin's opinion. Most of the time.

Which is why Minho was glaring at Chan without actually glaring at him, Hyunjin supposed. Hyunjin jokingly called it the Minho Glare, because what made it so different was that his eyebrows weren't furrowed, and he didn't look visibly angry, or mad, or ticked off at all. It was just that his gaze was so heavy, it was like literal death was staring you in the face with a very good mask on.

Chan didn't seem fazed by this at all, by what Hyunjin could see. Mostly all of what he could see was Chan's back, though, so maybe Hyunjin's perspective wasn't that helpful. But Hyunjin did notice, from the way Minho's mouth moved and how his expression was blank, that his responses were probably short and curt.

Minho glanced at Hyunjin mid-speech, and Chan followed his gaze. He practically beamed when he saw Hyunjin, waving an enthusiastic hand at him.

Please drink my coffee please drink my coffee please drink my coffee. Hyunjin grinned back, raising his hand to wave back in a significantly smaller movement. Shit tastes disgusting and you drink coffee beans more than milk please help me.

Maybe Hyunjin’s inner monologue should be a little more quiet.

this is . still not complete. and was a very bad try at humour. honestly this entire fic is a bad try at humour. but ykw ? its funky so it’s still something

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jurijurijurious · 3 years ago

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Writerly ephemera meme

I was tagged by @thisbluespirit in this rather intriguing meme!

Find five bits of yourself that you gave to your fiction (memories and places and phrases and things into our stories), post and tag five or more writers to share as well.

Now I know I do write bits of myself and my experiences into my stories, one way or another, I think everyone does, but it doesn’t half put you on the spot when you have to try to remember where you’ve done it!

1) I know that recently I wrote Walsingham passing out at the end of a scene in “Mea Culpa”. The entire description is based on personal experience. I went through a scary few years as a young teen where I would pass out for little to no reason, usually at school where there were lots of people watching to cause me huge embarrassment, which then almost gave me a form of PTSD. I was constantly anxious about fainting, it was not good, and we never found out why it happened. But that’s another story... I still occasionally pass out but it’s usually for a reason, after having a vaccine or blood taken or something, but the whole process of fainting, though horrible, is like an old nemesis to me, uncomfortably familiar. I generally feel intense sickness in my stomach, my vision is puckered increasingly with white dots, my entire body comes out in a sweat, and I hear a high pitched whistle-type noise as I lose consciousness. And so since that is my experience, it became Wals’s too:

His palms sweated, his pulse raced... He shuddered and emitted another strangled breath, fingers white where he clutched the window sill, body trembling. He needed rest. Ursula's voice was becoming distant, the room was swaying like the deck of a ship caught in a storm. He felt a sudden nausea in his stomach, could hear a high pitched sound in his ears, a siren's wail beckoning him into the abyss.

“I am sorry. So very sorry,” he whispered, though he knew not exactly who he was addressing. His own voice now sounded as if it was coming from underwater, far away; he was drowning and could resist no more, slipped where he stood and descended into the open arms of oblivion.

2) This is another Walsibeth example I’m afraid because I haven’t written anything else for about a decade! So... Though the pandemic and my lack of funds has put a temporary hold to my hobby of horse riding, I am a half-capable rider and love tearing across country if opportunity allows on horseback. I can thus write people riding horses (English style, anyway) with a degree of accuracy. So in my smutty one-shot fic “In perpetuum et unum diem” (the one which is mostly a pastiche of the raunchy finale of “The Tudors” season 1, and also an excuse for me to write shameless sex), I began the ficlet with a bit of a horse-race between Bess and Wals to get the blood up (a scene that in itself mirrors Elizabeth’s racing with Raleigh in TGA, I later realised). Though I personally haven’t raced a person on horseback per se, I have done beach rides and also ridden on a horseback safari in Africa where you gallop as a group, and “giving your horse its head” is the order of the day! So a lot of this passage is me:

She turned her head back over her shoulder and caught Francis’ eyes. His lip quirked slightly at the corner but otherwise there was no change to his countenance. But that was enough. Her smile deepend as if to invite him to race her and she turned her head back around, gave her dappled grey mare its head and pressed her calves to its flanks. And the beast responded, driving its legs harder, faster, into a gallop and flew like a falcon through the trees.

...

As the wind flew in Elizabeth’s face, making her eyes water, a great whoop of exhilaration escaped her. There was nothing but her and the horse, and the knowledge that her blackguard of a lover galloped behind her. This was what it should feel like to live, even in tragically brief snippets; to feel the blood in your veins, the air in your chest, and the sun on your face, wild and free.

They then jump a tree trunk which I’d love to say I’d do, and I might, but most of my falls have been from jumping so I’d probably wimp out and go the long way around... ;)

3) Annnd another one from my Walsibeth fic “Mea Culpa”, just because it’s fresh in my mind. When I was driving to work last winter, there was one Sunday morning which had a jaw-droppingly beautiful sunrise. I tried to take a photo of it but could not do it justice. I did find a photo of Lincoln Cathedral on instagram from the same morning though which captured the sky perfectly. It literally looked like the sky was on fire, or something, and I immediately worked this memory into my story! I felt that a sky like that would make the perfect backdrop for a single, forlorn, broken bastard riding his horse in a clear, freezing morning:

There was a strange light in the sky as the sun began to make its ascent. It turned a deep crimson then lifted to shades of rich amber and gold; this combined with the few grey clouds passing overhead gave it the illusion of a huge fire, as if a great furnace now filled the heavens. Some might have called it beautiful, others would see a grim omen.

4) I had a look in my dreaded old fic archive, so full of cringe, and I found this from the end of my Doctor Who fic “Choices”, which I reckon I wrote between 2005-2006, possibly finishing it later than that. This scene right at the end (told from the perspective of Rose and the ninth Doctor’s daughter, Hope) is literally my old senior school - the class length, the finish time, the uniform was what I wore, and my history teacher was Mrs. Gaskin, and my mum would be waiting in her car to pick me and my sisters up:

By a quarter-to-three in the afternoon, she was in another History lesson with Mrs. Gaskin, and was spending another forty-five minutes hearing about the Black Death, the plague doctors, and the red crosses that were painted on people’s doors. It was fascinating, but Hope’s concentration wasn’t there. She kept looking out of the window at the school yard, noticing the little details that other days she would take for granted - like the way the trees swayed in the wind, the way a crisp-packet rolled across the concrete, and the pure azure-blue colour of the cloudless sky. Something was afoot but she had no idea what it was, or why she was feeling this way.

The bell rang finally at the end of the lesson, as the clock read three-thirty, and the class disappeared swiftly out of the door. It was home time! The voices of myriads of children echoed and shrilled down the corridors, and desperate feet, eager to get home, pounded down the stairs, making for the exits. White shirts were un-tucked from trouser and skirt hems, blue-and-red ties were loosened from about shirt collars, and black blazers were thrown off and carried over shoulders as the mass of pupils took flight.

Hope, however, took things slowly, almost as if she might never see them again, picking up on every smile, every individual laugh, and every joke pulled on every unsuspecting victim. She waved goodbye to friends, hitched her backpack over her shoulder, and made her way out of the school gates toward the spot where her mum or Uncle Jack would usually be waiting to pick her up. As she turned the corner onto Petunia Grove, though, she stopped and sighed. The car - either her mum’s or Jack’s - was not there.

Hope pursed her lips and shrugged, taking another good look around just to make sure that she hadn’t missed it, but there wasn’t a familiar car in sight. She thus let her bag slip off her shoulder, and she perched her backside on the street sign, swinging one of her feet back and forth as she waited for the arrival of her escort.

In the meantime, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander again, as it had been doing often throughout the day, and looked around the street. There was a blue tit on the hedge over the road, stood near a couple of sparrows and a robin. The front door of house number five was a brilliant shade of red, something which she had never really noticed before, and there was some graffiti on the road sign on the opposite side of the street. It read ‘Bad’ something or other, but she couldn’t read the other word since it was blocked off by the blue box.

Hope blinked and slowly rose to her feet. It couldn’t be…

5) And for number five, this is a short extract from the an unpublished Star Wars fic I wrote around 2010, where I tried for what must have been the third time to re-write the Star Wars nonsense I wrote as a teenager, all starring my very Mary Sue OC, Nadia, who became Vader’s apprentice and was mentored by Veers. I have here again worked my experiences of passing out into the story - a psychologist would have a field day with me. Nadia’s thoughts about showing weakness were also real fears of mine - I never liked to be weak, to be ill, to be a burden, and my character was the mouthpiece for my own self-disgust. It’s written in the first person with Nadia narrating in this scene where she accompanies General (Maximilian) Veers to the Kaminoan’s cloning facility to review further batches of troops and is taken ill by the experience of seeing the thousands of farmed foetuses:

Max nodded whilst I remained breathless and shaky in his shadow. I could not get those tiny, wriggling foetuses out of many head - they floated upon my consciousness, their inhuman eyes glaring into my face and their tiny hands reaching out toward me. I tried to rid myself of these infantile phantoms, but I could not, and I suddenly felt quite ill.

“We shall need many more in our next delivery,” Max told the creature, who began to babble on about the problems of this request, but was halted mid-sentence when Maximilian wheeled about and grabbed me, saying my name over and over. He disappeared amidst the snowstorm of white dots that littered my vision, however, and I collapsed upon the floor.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a bright, white room. The walls dazzled me for a moment and it took my eyes and my mind time to adjust and to recognise reality. I looked slowly at the plain walls, finding myself alone upon a bed with my hands by my sides and a drip feeding liquid into my arm. This seemed quite surreal - I knew I was not ill enough to warrant this - but I resolved to stay put until someone came to me. I felt extremely tired and I thought that I may as well take advantage of the rest.

I fell back to sleep again and, when I next woke, I saw Max sat in a chair beside me. I glanced about the room - we were alone. I looked at him uncertainly, my visage undoubtedly betraying the signs of my mortification, for he first said: “Do not worry, Nadia, I am not angry with you. It cannot always be helped.”

...

I wanted to defy him, to be strong, but no, I just showed him weakness and insecurity. What indignity was this?

Thanks for the tag, that was fun! I can’t think of 5 writers to tag but off the top of my head: @feuillesmortes, @robins-treasure and @captainofthegreenpeas? Have a go if you fancy.

#memes #writerly ephemera meme

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kim-ruzek · 3 years ago

Note

1, 20, 24, 25!

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

I'd say my abusive!Sean Roman fic bc of what it will dredge up. And also my angst monster fic bc I'm not even too sure I can write it without destroying myself. But if my emotional stability is not the reason I'm putting it off, I'd say my season six au fic just because it might ruffle some feathers (I say it's a season six au, it's where there's the main plot, but it actually aus from the end of season four!)

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

It depends. I prefer doing it in long sit-down sessions, especially considering how my writing usually goes (inner dialogue galore). But sometimes that just isn't something able to happen, and I don't mind writing in little spurts, especially when writing for a long time in one session tends to exhaust and dehydrate me!!

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

I have quite a few times, in my original work. For fanfiction? I'm not sure. Like accuracy is really important to me but also it's a lot of work so normally I just dance around the detail I'd need to become an expert on!

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

Lol, is NOT just a short paragraph, mostly because this entire section is my absolute fave and I Could Not choose just one paragraph. It is from a WIP and you'll know which one!!! (It's the one I *think* you're the most excited for. Or at least the one you've actually gotten snippets from before-- may have already had this). But I can't say it's title bc it's kinda spoilery, even though I've talked about it before publicly!

The night before that day was one of the rare few nights they didn’t spend together. If Kim knew that it would signify many more nights alone to come, she would’ve gotten Adam to come over, would’ve gotten him into her bed, would’ve gotten him to hold her, to protect her in their own little world for one of the very last times.

Of course, even if Kim knew what was to come, she couldn’t have lured him over, not even with promises of beer and nakedness, not even if she promised to worship him, not even if she promised she’d be at his mercy, because Adam wasn’t at home himself. He wasn’t in his bed, feeling just as alone and cold without her, he was [... SPOILERS]

That day Kim had woke up alone, without him, yet with hope. With the thought that soon she’ll be in work, soon she’ll be seeing his stupidly handsome face, soon he’ll be planning when to catch her alone, when to whisper in her ear my place in that low, deep voice of his, that’s wicked and filled with promises, that makes it oh so hard to concentrate on work.

With the thought that night she’d be in bed with Adam, and they’d be screwing, at he’d be making her feel like she’s in heaven, that she’s transcending, and he’d be nipping her, kissing her, moaning into her and she could pretend that this is her life, that it’s uncomplicated, that they’re just them, no strings or complications, just Adam and Kim.

And of course, she was right. That night she was in bed with Adam, and they were fucking, hard, clinging onto each other like they were the only people in the world, but not because they’re so, so in love yet in denial, not because this is the time they can loose themselves in each other and not all the complications of the world they’ve found themselves in, but because they were angry, because they were in love and yet couldn’t express that, because they were afraid, because this was the last time.

#reese's asks #thank you for asking! 💕#Cíara tag #burzek #<- bc of the snippet

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years ago

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WIP #46

(Send me a number 1-60 [or a fandom/character I guess] for the corresponding wip) because I’m bored and brain-fried and have too many wips that’ll otherwise never see the light of day.

For @janetm74 who actually asked for ‘Thunderbirds, 31′ but 31 isn’t TAG so we’ve got the closest TAG one instead. (top tip: wips are mostly arranged alphabetically by fandom and the TAG wips are 46-59!)

It was really only a matter of time before someone hit Scott!whump, wasn’t it? Snippets of this one have actually appeared in previous ask games, so you get the whole thing this time (because I don’t remember which bits I’ve already posted). Fun fact: this was my first attempt at Virgil’s PoV!

There was always something wrong about Scott in Thunderbird Two. Of all the Tracys, he was the least likely to travel in the green behemoth that was, in Virgil’s private opinion, the heart of International Rescue.

And yes, that included John.

Gordon was his co-pilot, his wingman, his back-up. For all that the aquanaut was, well, an aquanaut, there was honestly no-one else Virgil would rather behind the controls of his beloved girl if he was needed elsewhere. Heavy lifting, or – his least favourite – medical duties could sometimes pull him elsewhere, and in those moments his immediate brother would take the helm with a joking smile but steady hands that would never let anything befall Two (if only, he thought from time to time, because without Two Four would be grounded).

Alan was all nervous energy, a genius pilot but too cocky for Virgil to ever be truly relaxed when Two was in his hands, but it was far from uncommon for his youngest brother to be perched behind him, screens and panels showing readout after readout as he assessed situations and started remote assembly of pods when time was particularly of the essence. Sometimes, often, he knew Alan desired the speed of One, but he also liked his comfort and short of pulling Three’s own seats into One (a feat done once, never repeated), there was no comfort as a passenger of their first response craft. Or even as the pilot, in Virgil’s opinion.

John was an unusual passenger, unlikely to be Earthside for a mission – and even if he was, quickly wrapping things up and ascending back to the lofty heights of Five and the world at his fingertips – but when he was Earthside, well, Thunderbird Two was his ship of choice. He didn’t pilot her, for all that he was trained, but no matter what Scott would mutter, John was stubborn about always using Two to get to the danger zone. Something about reckless flying and too much gravity. Virgil couldn’t truly say he understood, because John’s aversion to gravity had never been a point in common between them, but he did at least appreciate that Thunderbird One was fast, and generated far more Gs than any atmosphere-bound craft had any right to make.

Statistically speaking, Scott did travel in Two more than John did, but as he didn’t spend over three hundred days in the year off planet, Virgil wasn’t quite so fussed on the literal numbers. Scott in Two always, always meant something was wrong. Maybe One was out of action (again) but Scott wanted to be on the rescue anyway. Maybe the world was conspiring against them, and Scott just wanted to be with his brothers rather than haring off at triple their speed and leaving them alone and vulnerable (Virgil knew that really One was more vulnerable than Two, although his eldest brother could never see it that way).

Or maybe, the worst wrong of all that always lined Virgil’s stomach with lead and dried up all the saliva in his mouth, Scott wasn’t fit to fly.

John was hovering, holographic form always a little too dull to accurately capture his brother’s vibrancy. Gordon had flight control, gloved hands firmly on the yoke as though he was her designated pilot. Alan had co-pilot, booted feet reaching the floor with little difficulty nowadays – he would out-grow Gordon soon – as he flicked switches in uncharacteristic silence.

Virgil was in the medbay, scanner clutched in his hands like a lifeline as it told him nothing that he wanted to hear, and many things that he didn’t.

Scott was in the medbay, doing nothing.

Danger dogged their steps with every rescue. They knew that – had always known it, even before the Zero-X blew their father sky-high as he tried to save the world – but it never made it any easier when it got closer than normal.

As normal for them was less than a second’s escape – buildings collapsing the moment their trailing foot left the threshold, planes erupting into fireballs the instant they leapt clear – closer was barely possible. Closer was a Thunderbird coming home with deep gouges. Closer was broken bones and terrorised faces.

Closer was their eldest brother lying motionless in his ‘bird’s medbay because it had taken thirteen minutes to find him after the snow roared down.

Avalanches were a messy business. Survival rates were low, some of the worst odds International Rescue ever faced, and there was no denying that their own past experience did nothing to help whenever John uttered the word in a brief. This one shouldn’t have been too bad, as far as snow monsters went. Out of season, with few people in the huts that dotted the lower reaches of the slopes and fewer still outside. Ten people were reported missing.

They found nine, all fortunate and breathing, before the second one struck.

Alan had been in Thunderbird Two, holding her steady in the air because the large Thunderbird would have done more harm than good if she’d landed and providing a much-needed birds’ eye view of the danger zone. It had been entirely due to the combined information from him and John that had let them find the nine lucky people so quickly.

Gordon had been on triage in the hut deemed safest in the event of a second avalanche. Virgil had just reached him with rescuee number nine when it had struck.

Scott had been heading up the slope, travelling scant inches above the snow via jetpack, searching for person number ten. One’s drones had been with him, scanning furiously even as John hijacked them to give Five even more data than the space station had already obtained from other means. Those same drones had given them a glimpse of blue, grey and white all jumbled together before going dark.

It took two minutes for Virgil and Gordon to force their way out of the semi-buried but still standing hut. One more for Alan to configure a pod and tentatively lower it from the module even as they realised their original one would take too long to excavate from the snow. In those three minutes, John had triangulated all the data he could amass from Five to provide the most viable search area.

Five minutes to find a body, cold to the touch. Rescue number ten had never stood a chance. Face down and neck broken, he would have been killed almost instantly during the original avalanche.

Fifteen minutes was the time limit. Nine people had already defied it, surviving anything between half an hour and an hour under the snow before International Rescue reached the scene and dug them out. The Tracy family never had that much luck, and an avalanche was their own personal hell. They knew, in that cold-fist-closing-around-their-hearts way, that Scott would not be number ten.

Twelve minutes and the pod’s heat sensors showed yellow-green in a sea of blue.

Thirteen minutes and their eyes showed them blue in a sea of white.

Scott had been wearing his helmet when the avalanche struck. As Virgil knelt to ease his limp, cold, but breathing body from the frigid prison, he’d thanked their parents for that fact silently but profusely. Still intact, the helmet had stopped snow clogging his airways, and had enough of an air supply to stop Scott from suffocating to death in the thirteen torturously long minutes it had taken them to find him.

In the medbay, scan finished, Virgil finally removed the life-saving gear. The detached feedback from the scan told him as much, but he sighed resignedly when there was no response. Scott didn’t gasp dramatically as his recycled air supply was replaced with the real deal, nor did lightly closed eyes snap open.

“How is he?” John asked unnecessarily as Virgil’s hand lingered under brown hair longer than strictly necessary after lowering the now helmetless head back down onto the stretcher.

“Cold.” Virgil humoured him, knowing full well that John had been desperately analysing the results of the scan as they occurred. Their suits were well designed for the varied environments they found themselves in, and while Scott had shown up far, far too cold in their initial search for him, as soon as they’d got him into the security of Thunderbird Two the hint of a shiver had taken hold and Gordon had encouraged it with a single blanket.

Scott’s uniform was somewhere in the middle as far as easy to remove International Rescue uniforms went. While Gordon and John’s specialist environments necessitated almost vacuum-tight uniforms, and Virgil and Alan had heavy-duty but therefore less clingy attire, Scott wore a streamlined flight suit that didn’t adhere precisely to his body but wasn’t exactly loose either. Still, the zip tugged down easily enough and Virgil manipulated his rag doll of an eldest brother out of the tough material delicately before clearing away any leftover snow trying to chill him further and cradling him in blankets.

John watched in an agitated silence, the distance between their physical bodies never so apparent as when one of them was hurt and he was twenty two and a half thousand miles away. Sooner rather than later, Virgil knew the space elevator would be docking at Tracy Island, but before John could leave Five he needed to get One nestled back safely in her hanger.

The Thunderbird had escaped the avalanche by never landing, set to an autopilot hover by Scott upon his arrival to the danger zone because despite being smaller than Two, her VTOL posed just as much of a risk to the stability of the snow. With Gordon at the helm of Two, and a universal desire for the whole family to be together landing Alan in the co-pilot seat rather than their brother’s Thunderbird, it was up to John to remote pilot her home.

Hypothermia was not the only issue Scott had been hit with by the avalanche. None of them had done the exact calculations – John might have done, but if he had he hadn’t shared them – but Scott had been swept a fair distance by the sheer might of the snow and the journey had been far from smooth. Something had knocked him out in the tumble – what, Virgil couldn’t begin to decipher – and while his ribs were miraculously okay, thanks to the support of his flight suit, his left arm was bent awkwardly. Already, beneath the blankets, his skin was blossoming in the reds and purples of early bruising.

“Any change?” Alan asked, his hologram flickering into existence beside John’s. Gordon was just visible at the edge of the projection.

“He’s warming up,” Virgil assured them, eyes never leaving his eldest brother as shivers slowly intensified. “No sign of consciousness, though.” He leant forwards, running his hands gently through gelled hair. The scan didn’t indicate a concussion to accompany the rest of Scott’s injuries, but with no evidence for why he was remaining unconscious barring the hypothermia itself, Virgil needed a more hands’ on check to reassure himself that there would be no further complications.

“We’re almost home,” Gordon chipped in. “Make sure you’re both ready for the landing.”

“F.A.B.”

Securing Scott was easy, straps looping over him and cinching tight but not too tight against the stretcher. The temptation to stay standing beside him, watching like a hawk for any sign of change – good or otherwise – was strong, but John made a small noise in the back of his throat and Virgil forced himself to take the two paces away from the stretcher and collapse into a fold-out seat.

“Thunderbird One has landed,” the astronaut informed him, and Virgil managed something that was almost a smile.

“See you soon,” he said, and John returned the almost-smile before floating with purpose. With the limitations of the holograms, it was difficult to tell where he was headed, but Virgil knew there was only one place John wanted to be.

Their landing was soft, softer than Gordon had ever managed before, and Virgil shot out of his chair and back to Scott’s side as soon as he felt the wheels connect solidly with the runway. The touchdown had done nothing to disturb him, eyes still softly closed. His skin was pale, and the shivering was still gaining in intensity, but Scott’s face was as peaceful as Virgil had seen it since the Zero-X.

He pulled the scanner back out, running another one just for something to do as Gordon taxied them back into the hangar. Scott’s temperature had risen marginally, still too cold but headed in the right direction. He adjusted the blankets cocooning him as Thunderbird Two finished her rotation and the hydraulics either side of the module whirred into action, raising the body of the craft.

Someone had remembered to call ahead – a flash of guilt coursed through Virgil as he realised that should have been his job – because as the module door lowered, letting in the orange flickering light that indicated mechanical movement in the hangar, Grandma was standing there, arms crossed and finger tapping nervously. She didn’t wait for the door to finish lowering, jumping into the module as soon as she could and heading straight for them.

“What happened?” she asked, wrapping an arm around him firmly for a moment before taking the final step to Scott’s side and tutting at the results of the scan.

“Avalanche,” Virgil responded, even though he knew she knew. Old hands that had yet to lose most of their dexterity pulled at the blankets, exposing Scott’s throat enough for her to press two fingers to his pulse. “Nine survivors, one fatality.”

“Broken arm and extensive bruising,” she mused, light fingers dancing over her eldest grandson’s body as she confirmed the scanner’s results for herself. “His suit protected him from the worst of it. Let’s get him inside.” Virgil nodded, reaching out to activate the hover jets on the underside of the stretcher before releasing the clasps that held it to the wall. Hurried footsteps indicated the arrival of his younger brothers, finished with their flight checks and anxious to see their eldest brother.

“Is he awake yet?” Alan asked, blue eyes filled with hope. Virgil shook his head as Gordon placed a hand on the youngest’s shoulder.

“Your brother will be fine,” Grandma assured them all before he could find the words to explain Scott’s condition. “A little battered and bruised, and rather cold, but some rest and home cooking will sort him right out, you’ll see.”

Gordon’s mutter that home cooking would do more harm than good wasn’t as quiet as he’d clearly intended, but Grandma ignored the slight as she put a firm hand on the hovering stretcher and started to guide it towards the house. Virgil paused, checking his two younger brothers over thoroughly. Alan was pale, shaken at the sight of Scott’s limp body, while Gordon headed over to the discarded uniform and picked it up.

“He’ll be alright,” he told them. Both nodded sharply. “John’s coming down; Alan, why don’t you go meet him?”

Neither asked why John was coming down if Scott was going to be fine. It was a much appreciated fact that sometimes a hologram wasn’t enough for reassurance, and none of them would ever begrudge John the chance to be there in person. Alan nodded again and left.

“I’ll clear up here,” Gordon said. He was feeding the damp uniform through his hands, most likely unconsciously. Damp, half-melted snow littered the module, and the remaining pod. “Go help Grandma.”

Virgil didn’t protest, although he gave Gordon a final look over before turning to leave his ‘bird. They all needed to feel useful, finding something to do while they waited for Scott to wake up. He would have cleaned his ‘bird himself, but Gordon’s order had been a hidden plea: I want you with Scott.

“I want her spotless,” he said instead, and Gordon laughed.

“Yes, yes,” he dismissed. “Now go help Grandma keep Scott in bed.” Because that was going to be the hardest task of all. None of the Tracys made for a good patient, but Scott was the undisputed worst patient of all. Alan and Gordon would try for subtle, the elder blond with more success, escape attempts made when they were left alone for too long. John hid in Five, well-practiced in manipulating holograms to make him appear healthier than he actually was – although the arrival of EOS had put a stop to that particular trick. It was the thing that had finally got her into Scott’s good books. Virgil himself knew that he gave his brothers a little too much grief, largely because he knew how to treat his own ailments better than they did.

Scott didn’t bother with subtlety. The moment their backs were turned, and sometimes not even then, he would be forcing himself up and out of bed, determined to carry on working no matter what. He’d never been a good patient, but it had only worsened since their Dad’s crash. Knowing why didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

Not bothering to change out of his uniform, he ran after Grandma and the stretcher, catching up with them just outside the infirmary doors. Scott was still unconscious, a fact that bothered him considering there was no sign of injury that would cause it, but it made transferring him from the stretcher to the soft bed far easier. A pile of warm blankets were gently tucked around him, mindful of the broken arm.

As Grandma fussed with an IV line, more a precaution than a necessity, Virgil turned his attention to the limb. It was a clean break, simple enough to reset and splint. Scott let out a noise of complaint as the bones were dragged back into place, and both he and Grandma immediately looked at him. Brow furrowed, hazed blue eyes flickered open.

“Scott?”

“Vrrgg?” his eldest brother slurred, eyes slowly focusing on him. “Whh..?”

“We’re home,” Virgil told him, resting a hand on the blankets over where Scott’s right shoulder was buried. “The rescue’s over.”

Scott blinked at him slowly, the haze of confusion not quite leaving his eyes.

“Rsscu?”

“Let’s focus on getting you warmed up for now, Scott,” Grandma cut in, smoothing his hair back gently. She gestured sharply with her other hand – hidden from Scott’s view – to the reset arm. Virgil took the hint, returning to strap it up, knowing that he’d need to mix up a proper cast for it if he wanted any chance of it healing properly with Scott’s reluctance to rest of any length of time.

“Buh-”

Scott’s protest was cut off by the door slamming open, the pitter-patter of Alan’s booted feet flying into the room. Behind him, at a more sedate pace, John followed, turquoise eyes raking over the scene in front of him sharply.

“Is he awake?” Alan asked, skidding to a stop by the bed. “Scott?”

“Ara?” Scott started. Virgil lunged up to stop him as he made his first attempt to get up.

“No, Scott,” he said firmly. “You’re still too cold.” Scott didn’t fight him, a sign that he was still confused. It didn’t go unnoticed by either Alan or John, the former losing his smile and the latter narrowing his eyes for a moment.

“Go get yourselves changed,” Grandma told them. “He’ll still be here when you come back.” Hoping she wasn’t including him in that order, Virgil busied himself with fussing over Scott, fixing the blankets he’d dislodged and hushing any attempts to ask about the rescue.

“It’s over,” he repeated as his two brothers left the room with orders from Grandma to also locate Gordon and make sure he got changed, too. “Stay still.”

“Virgil,” Grandma warned, and his shoulder slumped. “You too, young man. You’re still wearing some of the snow.”

He hadn’t noticed, but when she mentioned it he realised that the creases of his uniform still carried damp white.

“I won’t be long,” he promised Scott, who looked at him with wide blue eyes. They reminded Virgil of Alan. Usually it was Alan who reminded him of Scott; he didn’t like it the other way around. “I’ll bring you back a drink. Think you can manage that?”

“Drrnk?”

Virgil sighed, and turned to Grandma.

“I’ll bring him something,” he told her and she nodded with a tired smile.

“You do that,” she said. “Now go get out of that wet uniform before you catch a chill, too!”

With a last look at his brother, still too pale but thankfully shivering properly at last, he forced himself to leave the room.

When it came to Grandma, there were fights that could not be won, and unspoken orders to be heeded nonetheless. It was not as simple as tugging off his uniform, throwing on some casual clothes and running back into the infirmary with a warm, sugary drink in hand served with a straw to sip it with, so he begrudgingly threw himself under a hot shower, allowing his own body to warm up after too long in the snow himself, albeit not buried like his big brother. Still, a shower did not have to be long to be effective, even if he would usually take the time to let his muses grow amongst the gentle hiss of pouring water, and within five minutes he was thoroughly warm and worming his way into clean clothes. A quick blow with his hair dryer got the worst of the water out of his hair, but he forwent the gel to return it to its usual style. Certain younger brothers might have a field day about his hair not being carefully sculpted, but a certain hypothermic older brother was worth a little bit of pride.

John had beaten him to the kitchen, a hot squash – blackcurrant and apple, from Scott’s personal stash – steaming on the counter. Virgil glanced around the room to make sure nothing was broken.

“You haven’t taken it in?” he asked, wrapping a hand around the container. It was almost hot to the touch. John shrugged.

“I’d drop it,” he said, plucking a blue straw from the collection in the cupboard and neatly dropping it into the top of the cup. Virgil couldn’t disagree with the possibility and scooped it up, straw bobbing in the dark liquid, before continuing on to the infirmary.

Alan and Gordon were there, both out of uniform as per Grandma’s orders, and trying to get a laugh out of Scott, if their antics were anything to go by. Scott himself, Virgil was pleased to see, appeared less confused than when he’d left.

“I have a drink for you,” he announced, passing it to Grandma as he perched on the bed by Scott. “Think you can manage some sips?” Scott was still shivering but managed a grateful smile.

“Will i’ tas’e goo’?” he asked, still too cold to pronounce his words properly. Virgil gently brought the head of the bed up slightly before propping Scott up in a more upright position with the use of many pillows. Gordon helpfully readjusted the blankets as Alan crawled onto the bottom of the bed.

“It’s from your own stash,” he promised, taking it back from Grandma and holding the straw to his lips. “John made it hot, so be careful.”

“’M alway’ ca’ful.” Scott mumbled the biggest lie Virgil had ever heard before accepting the straw and taking a sip.

“If you say so,” he said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to help keep him in place as he drank. He was still cool to the touch, despite the blankets wrapped around him firmly.

Scott hissed as the liquid entered his mouth, and Virgil tightened his grip even as he rolled his eyes.

“I warned you,” he said lightly, as John entered the room and perched on the end of the bed, watching Scott carefully. Scott took another sip, more cautiously the second time.

...tbc one day..?

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #wip excerpt #virgil tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #grandma tracy #thunderwhump

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pertinax--loculos · 3 years ago

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Update

Gonna try a new thing. I've seen these weekly updates from other writeblrs and it appeals to me because I can blather about writing or lack of writing (if it's been one of Those weeks), I can also include anything else I want, and it's a manageable goal to have for a start.

Tentatively breaking it up into writing, reading OR watching, real life (if applicable), and possibly excerpt (again, if applicable).

So! (Warning: This is long. I seriously babble like nothing else.)

Currently Writing Absent That Night (tagged: WIP: ATN)

wordcount: no clue, it's all on my phone and I've been writing scenes I'd previously written snippets for, so it's a mash-up. (Which reminds me I need to back it all up at least onto my computer.)

Proud of the short summary I did for my pinned post, so repeating it here:

Agent Latrell has been chasing the thief known as Nox for more than three years; but when bodies start turning up at his crime scenes, he’s the only one who believes Nox isn’t responsible. Unfortunately, he’s also the only other suspect. In order to clear his name, he’s going to have to find the real killer; and the only way to do that is to team up with a criminal who, it turns out, he knows absolutely nothing about.

still love love LOVING this WIP. I've got pages and pages of notes, and it is probably getting a wee bit too complex with subplots and suspects etc, but I'm an overwriter anyway so if I end up with a 200k word draft then shrug. More to work with

dunno if I mentioned or just thought it was obvious because I know it so well, but it has an enemies/rivals-to-allies(lovers?) (sub?)plot. So I've been pulling out a lot of threads there

technically I'm up to about halfway between the catalyst and break into two. Definitely not hardcore plotting but I do have an idea of the beats I wanna follow in the back of my head

Nox is still a fucking mess. I should probably stop piling trauma onto him, poor guy

my favourite creation this week is Mark Gault, who is a secondary/minor character who is amazing in every way. He is both essentially a ruthless mercenary and the "I LOVE MY WIFE" guy. (I also keep calling him Grant, instead of Mark, because he's actually the father of a character who first appears in Phase Two of CASCADE. (!!!))

basically happy with how it's all going this week. Regular writing is getting the juices flowing and it's easier to come up with ideas even when I've only got a vague notion of what is supposed to happen in the scene.

guys i am such an overwriter this is ridiculous please send help this scene was supposed to be like 2.5k total and it's turned into 4-5 scenes and is like 10k long dear god--

Currently Reading Blue Lily, Lily Blue by Maggie Stiefvater, book three of the Raven Cycle

I have not just jumped in at book three of a series, I have read the previous two.

in the last week.

I've read eleven books in the last five weeks, so that's... something.

they have all been thrillers except for this series. (And also Girl One, which despite being marketed as a thriller was definitively NOT a thriller. Which, yes, I should've guessed from the tag line, but I'm still mad about it.)

I am in love with the prose. It feels similar to mine, but Better, and I have been unconsciously mimicking it.

(which may be a problem when I finish it and am still writing ATN, but that is an issue for Future Pockets)

ngl I was not a fan of the way the first book ended. Not only did I have to reread the final line multiple times in order to even begin to grasp it, but I kinda think it's a dick move to end on a cliffhanger, even for an established author and clear indications this was gonna be a series

(but you bought the next book, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU??)

very very much enjoying the series, to be concise (ha!). Love the characters and it's all pretty tightly paced. The overarching series arc kiiinda maybe feels a bit slow/irrelevant, and some of the motivations annoy me, but I keep reminding myself it's YA in which the motivations are in character, so

not far into this one yet but so far so good

I wrote this earlier this week and since have begun thinking the series arc is becoming more relevant, but am reserving judgement. Reading slower with work and reading but still enjoying it all

Real Life

continues to be mostly a pain in the ass. Apps in for a second job, research on next year ongoing

update: may have the dream second job, basically waiting for confirmation (fingers crossed!)

one of my housemates is the literal devil, although even that is being quite kind to her. The nice one is moving out because of it. People keep asking how I've lived in this house for three years. I have no answer.

enjoying writing time in evenings and feeling mentally pretty good thanks to exercise

Excerpt Long, nearly 900 words, but a favourite of recent pieces and also something I coincidentally wrote today. Nox and Latrell's third meeting, when Latrell is still, uh... resistant to the idea of working with him:

"Why me?" Not at all the way Latrell had intended to phrase it, but he couldn't take it back. He continued, quickly, instead, jumbled thoughts pouring out of his mouth. "Surely that's the least you can give me. You come to me and ask me to fucking help you after you've made the last three months of my life living hell, you can at least fucking tell me why the fuck that is. You owe me that much. I'm not letting you fucking walk away until you fucking answer me that."

Nox was silent for a long moment. He ran a calculating gaze up and down Latrell, as if searching for something; it wasn't apparent whether or not he'd found it when he said, softly, "And if I don't?"

Latrell was abruptly very aware of the weight of the handcuffs in his back pocket. He would have to move quickly. There was every possibility Nox would see this coming, especially if he'd been arrested before. But Latrell was quietly confident. He inched his hand back, keeping it subtle, eyes on Nox's face.

"In that case," he said, as evenly as he could. His fingertips brushed warm metal. "Perhaps we should try something--"

Everything went white.

For a moment Latrell thought he'd somehow lost consciousness; that he'd underestimated Nox's affinity for violence, that the man had punched him or otherwise managed to incapacitate him without otherwise moving. Then it occurred to him that he was still thinking, which essentially took unconsciousness off the table, and he realised, vaguely, that it was an illusion.

It was very, very convincing.

The entire world was an endless expanse of emptiness. Utterly, absolutely white, a whiteness that could not and should not exist. Latrell was overcome by a sensation of falling, of plummeting into nothingness; he had to concentrate to feel his feet still on the ground, to know he was still upright. He had nothing to orient himself. There was no up, no down, no left or right. Just that endless expanse of a lack of colour. He was hanging in nothingness, or everything.

"You forget who you are dealing with, Agent."

Latrell swallowed down nausea. Nox's voice came from startlingly close, the sound of it somehow wrong, which objectively he knew came from the fact that his brain was convinced it should sound small and insubstantial in this endless void but it sounded normal because he was actually still standing in the alley. It was academic knowledge only. He still felt like he was tipping or falling or rising, weightless and disoriented. He had no voice, no ability to open his mouth.

Experimentally he tried to take a step. He couldn't lift his foot off the ground. Physically, he was sure he could -- he could still twitch his fingers, if he thought about it -- but his mind was convinced that there was nothing to step away from, nothing to step onto. Just nothing, nothing, nothing. A brightness that wasn't a light, a void constructed of the pieces between atoms.

Nox's voice came from his other side this time. "I have attempted to do this civilly, but there are other options."

It was a struggle to concentrate on his words, close as they were. Latrell tried to narrow his focus to only sound, tried to ignore the nothingness he was suspended in, tried to tell himself it was all an illusion. Just something Nox wanted him to see. The Orn, threaded through his eyes or brain or soul, acting upon Nox's orders.

It didn't help. He was still in freefall.

"Do not," Nox's voice came, a bare whisper in his ear, breath brushing Latrell's neck, "Presume to test me."

Abruptly the white disappeared. Latrell was back in the alley, trying to adjust to the change of light, trying to find where Nox had gone. Turning his head made the ground roil beneath him and he staggered, utterly disoriented.

Fingers closed around his forearm, steadying him, and Latrell looked up to find Nox inches away.

"Easy, Agent," he purred. His smile was more a baring of his teeth.

Latrell wrenched away from him, staggering until his back connected with a comfortingly solid wall. He was dizzy, brain still adjusting to reality, but he managed to straighten his spine and set his shoulders. He kept his hands in front of him. In Nox's view.

"Do we have an understanding?" Nox said, still silky and low.

"Screw you," Latrell said, voice faint and alien.

Nox's smirk sharpened. "I thought so. Lovely chat, Agent Latrell." He sauntered past where Latrell stayed pressed against the wall, hesitated at the corner of the alley. "Keep up the good work."

He stepped forward and disappeared from view.

Latrell's breath left him in a rush and he doubled over, bracing himself on his knees. His head still spun, the unpleasant sensation he'd come to expect from vertigo. The backs of his eyelids were painted with a stark blank white. Every time he blinked he was engulfed.

It was far beyond any illusion he'd ever experienced. It was approaching the type he'd only ever read about in scientific articles.

You forget who you are dealing with, Agent.

Perhaps he had. But this assault supplied more than a reminder.

It also provided a piece of the puzzle.

#we'll go with #weekly update #WIP: ATN #excerpt #pockets muses IRL #god you can't tell i'm an overwriter at all can you #somebody please shut me up #>.<

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syilcawrites · 4 years ago

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archived memories | 1

Series: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Type: Multi-Chapter Main pairing: Zelink (Zelda and Link) Rated: T Tags/Genre: pre-calamity, fluff (middle chapters mostly), hurt (toward the last chapters lmao) Summary: bits and pieces of zelink scenes strewn in between the canon memories in botw! Snippet from Ch 1: “She leaned away, trying to read his expression, but to no avail, she couldn’t. She never could. He was a puzzle that would be impossible to solve, and she wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to in this lifetime.” A/N: Takes place between Memory 1-3 You can also read it on ao3! Click here to see all chapters on tumblr

Chapter 1: falling far from the tree

“Do you not have anything better to do?”

Zelda turned around to face him fully, arms crossed, glaring down. It was the only time she had the upper-hand in height—when they were on a hill, since he always shuffled behind her like some lost puppy.

“These parts of the woods are safe,” Zelda said waving her arms in the air in an attempt to prove something. “I’ve been here a billion times without anyone! Wait—“ Her glare at this point had become deathly. “How’d you even know I was here?” She was sure she snuck out using her secret passage—unless. Unless it wasn’t secret anymore, because now he probably knew where it was.

He didn’t speak, only looking up at her with those large blue eyes of his. Anyone could easily get lost in them, they were so vibrant. Startlingly blue, and she would admit it. They were beautiful, she was jealous.

Jealous about every aspect of him.

Typically she would ignore him completely—simply stare at him when she walked past him, or maybe huff out a breath of annoyance when they made eye contact—but today, she was tired. And she wanted to be alone.

She wasn't sure why she even bothered to ask him a question, because he never answered anyway. He merely gazed at her with pursed lips, which angered her even further. She let out a strangled, short shout of frustration as she threw her arms in the air again in an attempt to let out some steam. No matter how many times she spoke to him, the very few times she had, he would simply stare at her. Acknowledging her existence, maybe. But refusing to speak.

Which simply made her even more angry.

“Will you say something?” Zelda stomped toward him. To her slight surprise, his eyebrow twitched. "Anything?" A moment of silence passed between them. “Of course you won’t.” She muttered, mere inches away from his face.

She leaned away, trying to read his expression, but to no avail, she couldn’t. She never could. He was a puzzle that would be impossible to solve, and she wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to in this lifetime.

But really, she just wondered…

Does he despise her, being forced into this destiny without a choice? Does he despise having to follow her heel to heel, watching her back every day? These questions were constantly at the tip of her tongue, but she always swallowed them back, afraid to know the answer.

She turned around briskly, stomping back up the hill, and she could hear the sound of the Master Sword and his Hyrule shield clacking away behind her, following.

All she wanted, for one day, was to bask in the sun by herself.

Highlight: by herself.

But no, not even she could think about her failures in peace, and now she had some silent man following her every step, watching her every move, probably recording each and every mistake she’s made since then to report it back to her father.

Well, she wasn’t planning on giving him anything today, and she was going to continue walking until her legs gave out, and he’d think twice about following her out again.

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

The late afternoon shimmered away into dusk, and they were still pacing their way through the forest. The entire time Zelda had simply picked at whatever seemed interesting to her, making note of her findings. Somewhere down the line, the initial anger she had simmered down with the coolness of the air. She had snacks to munch on, but she never saw Link take a bite out of anything. His eyes had trailed her the entire time.

Zelda let out a sigh. There was no way he wasn't starving at this point, and she didn't want to be the one to drag his corpse back to the castle. Scanning the trees around her, her eyes noticed the familiar curve of a common tree. As she made her way there with purpose, she lifted herself up into it—now this caused a reaction out of him. He jogged up to her shortly after, looking up at her with concern, ushering her to come down.

“Just stay put for once.” She waved his hand away and continued to climb up until she settled on a branch with a satisfying ‘oof’.

She stared down at him, and noticed the twitch of his eyebrow as she did so. The second possible reaction of the day! Was it annoyance, perhaps? Had she finally evoked some sort of emotion out of him? If he wasn’t here, which he always was, she would’ve patted herself on the back.

“Hey,” she said, plucking an apple from a tree. His attention averted to the apple she held. She stifled a laugh when she saw him quickly lick his lips; she wasn’t sure if he even noticed he had done that. She tossed it down, and without a second to waste, he took a big bite out of it. She climbed further up to reach the next apple and snatched it. By that time, he was already done, and she tossed another one down.

She thought it was foolish of him to follow her without making food for himself, and so she decided to reach for a third apple higher up, until she remembered she had packaged herself a snack for the ride back that she could offer to him.

“Oh!” Zelda brightened up as she rummaged through her pouch for—

The branch beneath her groaned as it dipped—leaving just enough time for her to reach for the trunk, to fancy the idea of getting herself out of danger in time, before the crack of the wood ricocheted in the air.

Zelda yelped in surprised as she plummeted to the ground, the scenery before her whizzing upward in a flurry of green and brown—

And before she could even process what had happened, her mind still dizzy from falling, she was on the ground. Heavy breaths and swirling thoughts mingled with one another as she realized how… how warm the grass was.

And then realized how smooth the grass was, and how… how the texture just didn’t feel right. She quickly glanced down below her, but instead of being flattened on the grass, she was flattened against—him.

Link.

Zelda jumped out of his arms like a cat jumping out of water.

“I’m so sorry!” she scurried a few feet away from him, patting down her body to ground herself. “I—the branch and… the weight…”

Link laid there in the grass for a second, scratching his head, before he lifted himself on his elbows. His hair was littered with leaves and small twigs. A rare sight to see him in such disarray.

Zelda felt her heart drop as he picked himself up, not really responding to her apology. He shook his hair with both hands to get rid of the debris.

If he didn’t hate her before, she was sure he did now.

#zelink #botw #breath of the wild #zelda #link #my fanfics #enjoy!#I will post them here eventually asofujksd #thanks for reading folks!#i have 3 other chapters posted on ao3 rn #!#ok but why did tumblr remove line break... pls return it #omg let me know if it's just one big long text box #i tried to edit this to add the read more but it's not showing up on my screen #sweats #archived memories

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booksalwaysandforever · 4 years ago

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Holding on to the Memories Chapter 3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Summary: Lauren’s life was a perfect dream, until one day it wasn’t. Cutting can distract you from life, but it can also take life away. Can Lauren get back home, or has it all been taken away from her?

Tag list: @kai-unknown

Length: almost 3000 words, it’s pretty long!

I’m so sorry, it has been forever since I posted. This chapter took a long time to write and I have had a rough couple weeks. I absolutely love this chapter and I hope you do too! I will try and get the next chapter out a lot faster than this one.

The darkness was all consuming. There was no way out, and no way to tell how long I had been here. It could’ve been 5 minutes or a month. I didn’t know.

All of a sudden, the darkness lit up with millions of colors. At first, I thought the light was back, but as I watched the scene in front of me unfold, I quickly realized that wasn’t it at all.

“Please, take care of her,” a woman, my birth mother, said as she handed a baby to Carlisle.

“We will take care of her and give her a life as grand as if she were a princess.” She smiled at the answer and closed her eyes as her breathing stopped. Carlisle turned to the baby in his arms. “Welcome to the family, Lauren. I promise to love you as if you were my own daughter, as I’m sure Esme and the rest of your siblings will as well.” With that, he turned and rushed away.

This was a memory. It was mine, but at the same time, it wasn’t. I was too young to remember this. It must’ve been Carlisle’s. It was the day he found and adopted me. Carlisle had been hunting nearby and could smell the blood. He came as fast as he could to see what had happened and if he could help. Sadly, my dad was killed on impact and my mother was severely hurt. Carlisle couldn’t save her, but before she died, she gave me to Carlisle, in hopes that he could give me an amazing life.

The memory quickly faded into another one.

“Everyone, I have some news,” Carlisle said as he walked through the door. “Meet your new little sister. Her parents were in a car crash and she has no other family, so she’ll be staying with us.”

Everyone piled around, getting a good look at their sister.

“Nessie,” Edward said, “she looks a little like you. And a lot like you did when you were human, Bella.”

“Yeah, brown hair, brown eyes, so similar.” Renesmee said, rolling her eyes as she moved closer to me. “Hi there girly. I’m Nessie, your big sister.” The little baby giggled and stretched their hands out to grab at Renesmee’s hand. When she got a hold of it, she pulled the fingers into her mouth and began sucking on them.

“I think she’s going to start using us all as teething rings,” Esme laughed as she reached her hands out to Carlisle. “Come here girly, Mommy wants to meet you.”

The moment Esme got her hands on the little girl, she began swaying side to side and humming to her. The baby was asleep within a minute.

“What’s her name, Carlisle?” Rosalie asked.

“Lauren Lee Stoel. She is about 4 months old I do believe. I have yet to see her official birth certificate, but I’m sure I will soon. The adoption process starts on Monday.”

“Wait, we’re actually adopting her?” Esme asked with a huge grin on her face.

“Yes dear. In a matter of months, she will officially be ours. She will officially be a Cullen.”

The scene faded again as another one began appearing. Renesmee was showing me as many memories as she could find, memories from my life, taken from the rest of my family, trying to help me wake up.

Esme opened the door to a room and walked in. I followed her in, but it was so dark, I couldn’t see anything. As my eyes adjusted, I realized it was the nursery. A baby, little me, was lying in a crib with Jasper sitting in the rocking chair nearby, reading a book.

“Jasper, what are you doing?” Esme quietly asked.

“I’m tryin’ to get used to her scent and calm ‘er down. She was fidgeting and having a nightmare, I think. I was gonna try and calm her down.”

Ever since that day, Jasper had been my best friend. Slowly, he had gotten used to me and every time I hurt myself or couldn’t sleep, he calmed me down.

The next memories were like pictures. There wasn’t much for talking, but there were short snippets of my life as a baby, captured like a picture.

Jasper was holding me and singing me to sleep while rocking in the rocking chair.

Rosalie was feeding me some mashed peas, which I had effectively flung back into her face. Everyone, including Rosalie, laughed.

Edward sat me in his lap, and was playing the piano. After a moment, I recognized the tune as my lullaby. I was banging on the piano as hard as I could, making it impossible for him to play.

Alice had dressed me up like a princess, practically in a ballgown. Baby me did not like that. I was screaming my lungs out and trying to pull it off.

Emmett was lying on the ground beside me, playing with me. After a few moments, I yawned and fell asleep. Emmett appeared not to notice and continued playing with my fascinating baby toys.

As I watched these pictures, I realized that Renesmee wasn’t in all of them. She must have talked to everyone, asking them to tell her about some memories they had of me, and she painted the picture in my head. It was almost like I was there with them, watching myself grow up.

“Oh Lauren! Look at you! You’re so grown up,” Rosalie cooed. Emmett was holding onto my hands, helping my almost one year old self walk across the living room floor. “Come here, come to Rosy”

I let go of Emmett’s hands and walked the small three steps into Rosalie’s arms.

“Oh! Lauren, you did it!” she gasped.

“Yeah, you can walk now!” Emmett shouted

And another memory. A birthday no less.

“Happy birfday to me!!” I cried as I shoved my entire face into the birthday cake Alice had made for my first birthday.

“See, this is why we had to strip her before we let her eat it,” Carlisle said. “Lauren, do you like cake?”

“Oooooh, cake. I like cake,”

“Esme, I don’t think a bath is going to clean her. We’re going to need a garden hose.”

“I’ll go get the power washer!”

Everyone laughed. “Emmett, no! You do not get to hose down your sister with the power washer.”

Images of my second, third, and fourth birthday all passed by, along with many different images of me playing games with my family, meeting the wolves and playing with them, and other random memories. None of them were very long, just a moment or two, but that didn’t mean they weren’t important to me.

“Emmett, Jasper, can you guys take Lauren and go shopping for food for her this afternoon? Your father has to work and the rest of us need to go hunting,” Esme asked the boys.

“Sure thing, Mom,” Jasper said as he grabbed the keys. Emmett helped me put my shoes on and buckled me into my booster seat.

“So, what do you want for supper Lauren?” Emmett asked, turning around in his seat to look at me.

“Pancakes. And Mac and Cheese. Oh! And chicken nuggets.” Jasper laughed.

“We’ll see what we can get you squirt.”

When we got to the store, Emmett and Jasper followed me around the store and let me pick out anything I wanted. The best part of being the youngest kid was that all of my older siblings didn’t have the ability to say no to me. After 30 minutes of following me around the store, we walked out with several bags, mostly consisting of sugar, and brought them to the car.

After spending the afternoon playing games and running around the house with Emmett and Jasper, everyone came home.

“So, how was shopping, boys?” Esme asked.

“Good, we got everything Lauren wanted.”

“Oh no. No no no.” Esme put her head in her hands. “Please tell me you bought more than just donuts, ice cream, and candy bars.”

“Don’t worry, we did. We also got her some fruit snacks, fruit roll ups, juice boxes, popsicles, and chocolate milk,” said Emmett with an innocent grin on his face.

“And some Mac and cheese, chicken nuggets, yogurt, fish sticks, and stuff for pancakes and waffles. Don’t worry, there is some actual food in there,” Jasper said, laughing at Esme’s horrified face.

“So Lauren, what do you want to be for Halloween?” Jacob asked me.

“That’s a secret. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jacob always took Renesmee and I trick or treating. Renesmee was only one year older than my four year old self, so she passed for a young teenager. People still gave her candy when she was with me, so we always went together. Most of the time, it was too sunny out when we started trick or treating so none of the rest of the family could come.

A week later, it was time to go trick or treating. Alice was in my room helping me get ready.

“Lauren, are you almost ready? We need to go before all the good candy is gone,” Jacob called from down the stairs.

“I’m coming. I’m coming,” I shouted back. As I walked down the stairs, Jacob started laughing. I was dressed up as Little Red Riding Hood, and Renesmee and I convinced him to be a wolf. Renesmee was dressed as a grandma to follow along with the whole scheme.

“See, we match!”

From that day on, Jacob always called me Little Red. My Halloween costumes had earned me several nicknames. I dressed up as a bear for Emmett one year and he had begun to call me “brown bear”. I became known as “spider monkey” to Edward because I dressed up as a spider monkey one year for him, and the fact that I would always climb on everything when I was little. To Jasper, I was his “mini major”. I had dressed up as a cowgirl once and I often had a bit of a temper and was pretty sassy. The best Halloween costume though, was when I dressed up as a vampire. Alice and Edward helped me get red contacts, fake fangs, a cape, and everything else to help me look like a vampire in movies, even some fake blood and red juice to drink. Everyone loved it. It was by far, the best Halloween costume ever.

“Can I please know what my birthday present is?” I asked. Jasper had blind folded me and had slung me over his shoulder while he carried me somewhere.

“No. It’s a surprise.”

“Come on, please? Pretty please? I’m seven now. I should get to know.”

“No.”

“Wow, this is one of the first times you’ve said no.” Jasper laughed.

“We’ve all had a hard time saying no to you since you’re so cute.”

“I’m not cute,” I exclaimed as I hit him as hard as I could without hurting myself. “Rosalie says I’m beautiful. Also, your shoulder hurts. It’s too hard. I’m going to break my hand one of these days from smacking you or Emmett.” Jasper laughed at me again.

“Then maybe don’t hit us.”

“But you deserve to be hit.”

“I agree with Lauren.” Rosalie said, standing somewhere beside me. Jasper set me down on the ground. I could tell we were outside due to the sound of the creek and the breeze blowing my hair.

“Okay, are you ready to see your birthday present?”

“Yes. I’ve been waiting a whole year!” Everyone laughed.

“Okay then.”

Rosalie untied the blindfold and everyone at the party began singing happy birthday. My family, the pack, Grandpa Charlie, Grandma Sue, Grandpa Billy, and even my aunts and uncles from Alaska were there. Alice had made this a huge party, with fairy lights hanging from the trees, a huge banner that said “Happy 7th birthday, Lauren” in fancy calligraphy, and a huge birthday cake. But the coolest thing I saw was a swimming pool with a diving board and slide, a trampoline, and a tree house in the climbing tree.

“A tree house, a pool, and a trampoline?” I exclaimed, jumping up and down.

“Yes dear,” said Carlisle. “You’ve been begging us to get at least one for a while and you’ve been doing amazing in school, so we decided to let you have all three.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I shouted as I gave him and Esme hugs. I ran over to the trampoline, and Seth, Jacob, Emmett, and Jasper followed me.

“Boys,” Esme called. “That is Lauren’s gift. Let's not break it on the first day.”

A billion more memories went through my head. Memories of riding on Jacob’s back through the forest and going on runs with all of my siblings and the rest of the pack. Memories of playing tons of board games and video games with Emmett and Jasper, learning to play piano with Edward, and learning to dance with all my brothers and Dad. Going shopping with Rosalie, Alice, and Bella, spending the night at Renesmee’s house and her spending the night with me. Having sleepovers at Grandpa Charlie and Grandma Sue’s house, sleepovers with the pack at Sam and Emily’s house, and even sleepovers in Alaska with Aunt Tanya, Aunt Kate, and Uncle Garrett. Making a flower crown for everyone in the Volturi when they came to visit, making Marcus smile for the first time in a very long time, pretending to be a vampire princess when I visited their palace. Singing and dancing for my entire family, playing tag with everyone, only for it to end with someone catching me, throwing me in the air, and tickling me. Memories of things like going tubing, or to an amusement park with Renesmee, Jacob, Seth, and sometimes the rest of the pack. Even just simple things like blasting music in the car on the way to school, or seeing everyone in the front row at one of my dance recitals. Every one of those billion memories reminded me of why I needed to fight to stay. I needed to hold on to these memories and go home. But how?

One last memory plays in my mind. This one definitely wasn’t mine, but it was everyone else's.

My entire family was there, standing in a hospital room, crowded around a bed. My bed. Renesmee was sitting next to me, on my right side near the window, holding her hand to my cheek. Jasper was sitting on my other side holding my hand, while Alice was standing behind him. Esme and Carlisle, Rosalie and Emmett, Edward and Bella, and Jacob were all standing around my bed. Edward spoke first.

“As you’ve realized, Renesmee has been playing as many memories as she could find for you to try and wake you up. So far, it hasn’t helped. I hope this does. We need you to come back, Lauren.”

“Brown bear, come home,” Emmett whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear. “We’ve got to play Cards Against Humanity.”

“Lauren, we found your gifts,” Rosalie said, reaching for the locket around her neck. “I love it. And I promise,” she said, opening the locket to reveal the picture inside. “I didn’t put anything embarrassing in here.”

Esme’s crying was worse than it had ever been. Her body was shaking with sobs, which was very unusual for a vampire. She was turned into Carlisle’s body, who was holding her, but he looked like he was going to collapse himself.

“Princess, please. We need you,” was all he could choke out in a hoarse whisper. My dad was never like this. He was always cool, calm, collected. Right now, he looked like a mess. I had broken my Dad. And that broke my heart.

“Little Red, the pack needs you too.” Jacob said from behind Renesmee. “They’ve all been a mess. Especially Seth and Leah. They haven’t slept or eaten in days. We need you. Fight. Please, please fight.”

“Lauren, I need my best friend. I need help eating all the candy and ice cream at home, help beating the boys at every video game we own, help pulling all nighters and watching every movie for the six millionth time. I can’t do that without you. I can’t do it without my best friend and sister.”

Both Bella and Alice couldn’t talk, they were sobbing too hard. I left Alice speechless for the first time ever.

“I love you too.” That was all Jasper could say. I had never seen him cry. Jasper did not cry. Not once. But now, he was. My big brother, the Major, the strongest of us all, was crying, no, sobbing. And it was all my fault. Slowly, Jasper leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

That kiss was true love. My brother loved me more than anything, and that was what fought the darkness. The feeling of his lips leaving my head were the first thing I could feel. That and his cold hand in mine felt amazing against my burning skin. Now, I could hear the sounds of everyone's sobs in my own ears. I was regaining consciousness! I had fought the darkness and now I could go home. I forced my eyes open and looked at my family, who, other than Alice and Edward, had no idea I was awake. Alice had gasped the moment Jasper had decided to kiss my head, so everyone turned to look at her.

“Jasper” I croaked. Everyone turned their heads to me as fast as they could, disbelief filling their eyes.

“Lauren!”

#twilight #twilight imagine #Cullen Family #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #edward cullen #bella cullen #renesmee cullen #jacob black #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #rosalie cullen #rosalie twilight #alice cullen #Emmett Cullen #twilight imagines

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