#i get so nervous and afraid of posting random muse things

[tredispade-a]

its been a hot minute since i last wrote magnai. writing him started as a joke, but then like all jokes, i turn them into serious interpolations. however, there's only so much for him to do in his canon. (since i really don't play 14 much) and since i'm ff7 trash at the core of my being...

i totally have a ff7 verse for him. its a little different though.

i had this idea that his people are basically an off-shoot branch of the cetra. a more live off the land and rejecting modern technology. they're not quite as friendly and will fight back if threatened. but just like their human descendants. they too lost their connection with the planet. all they have left is their traditions and isolation.

the traditions have skewed a little over time. there's a lot more worship that includes the sun and moon, and other celestial bodies. not just the planet itself. and they're dying out. just one small tribe still exists out in the wild. a lot of the dwindling is from the children deciding to embrace the rest of the world and leaving their village.

that's just a small part of what i got so far.

[missdawnandherdusk]

Little Things

Draco X Reader

Request: @deanwswinchester79 But I thought of an idea that maybe the readers parents never write to her while she’s at Hogwarts, Draco notices and eventually gets her a simple gift so she doesn’t feel so lonely. She doesn’t react quite so well but over time it started to become a little tradition of theirs because they’ve come to like each other.

A/n: Thank you for such a wonderful request!! Sorry this took so long, I had most of it written with no idea how to end it, but I figured that out! think I’m gonna make the reader a Slytherin just for the proximity and convenience. Let me know what y’all think as always~ (Also it seems that my posts haven’t been circulating in the explore page... so more than ever, please if y’all love my work reblog it. Tumblr sucks and I’d hate to have to leave...)

Being pure bloods and Slytherin, it’s not uncommon that you and Draco are near each other a lot, even before Hogwarts.

Unlike his own parents who would give him anything at the mere mention, your parents never batted an eyelash at you

They spent their wealth on themselves and expected you to sit still and look pretty. The perfect compliant child.

Sure you had everything you needed, and asked for... but you had to bluntly ask for it... there was never anything thoughtful or decent

So, you never get letters from your parents while you’re at Hogwarts

Or gifts, or packages... you write letters and send them off, but never get a response. You don’t even know if your parents get them.

So... maybe it’s a few years before Draco notices and cares.

It’s only because he happened to be sitting next to you one morning as mail came in, a flurry of owls, letters and parcels. And you don’t even bother to look up. Your eyes are trained on your breakfast, your face stoic

“Here,” Draco shoves a covered tin of treacle tarts your way. “My parents sent me these. I don’t even like them,” he scoffs, trying to play off what he’s doing.

You eye him, in disbelief and stand abruptly. “Be grateful they send you things,” you snarl and storm out of the Hall, spending the rest of the day in your room, writing a letter you never send.

Maybe after writing the letter you never send about how you feel makes you realize you were a bit rude to Draco

So you apologize when you see him next.

It’s later that night when you two are the only third years left in the Common Room. Maybe you were a bit of a coward and waited until he was alone

He reaches into his bag and offers you the same tin. “I meant it. I really don’t like sweets,”

You can’t help but laugh as you accept his small gift.

Sitting beside him on the couch, you stare at the tin in your hands.

“You can eat them,” he teased. “They’re not poisoned.” He says it so earnestly, you laugh again.

You mumble another thanks before you stand abruptly and head back to your room, leaving Draco a bit confused. He shrugs and goes back to his potions homework.

“Mother, Draco gave me some treacle tarts today. They’re from his parents. I think he noticed that you never write back. Of course it’s been three years. But at least someone noticed. If that’s what this was...”

It’s a few days later during breakfast that you get a letter. You’re shocked because it’s the first time it’s ever happened and your owl is fluttering happily on your shoulder.

It’s not signed, and you have no idea who it’s from, but it holds kind words and encouragement. It’s such delicate and immaculate script, you’ve got no idea where to start looking for the author.

So maybe you don’t. But you keep the letter and write a response. Again, it’s never sent, but it makes you smile and not feel depressed afterwards. Which is new.

Draco would never forget the innocent smile on your face as you opened the letter he had sent anonymously. You didn’t seem to notice his stare, so entraputed in the bit of parchment.

He sent you a letter maybe a few times a months. It was the most mundane things. How he liked the weather. His worries for the next exam. How you handled yourself well in Transfiguration.

He never knew you reponded to each one. And kept those letters in a fabric box under your bed. Or how every night when you were feeling depressed you’d take them out and read them. And that they made you feel better.

You knew your secret author went to school with you, and was in close proximity but that was about all you knew. Sometimes you wondered who it was writing to you. Sometimes you were just content with having a letter to hold.

“I don’t really know who you are, but I’d like to know I think. At least to thank you for making me happy, even for a short while with your letters,”

You leave that letter on your desk, not thinking to tuck it back into its box. Which is your first mistake

Your owl, seeing the letter on your desk, delivers it, knowing who your secret author is.

Draco grips the letter so tightly that the paper almost tears. Your owl preens herself on his sill. “You know,” he accuses. “Did you tell her?” Like he expects a response from the bird.

It’s Christmas, and your mystery writer sends you a parcel this time with a note: “haven’t you figured it out?” In the parcel is a tin of treacle tarts.

You freeze before your gaze turns to Draco, who’s watching you intently.

You run through a lot of emotions. Anger, confusion, gratitude, hesitation, joy... it’s all so overwhelming that tears sting your eyes and you practically run from the Great Hall, leaning against a random hallway wall and start to cry at the absolute ridiculousness of it all

Draco Malfoy was sending you letters

Really sweet letters that were thoughtful and kind and honest and nothing like you’d ever seen from him before

The there was the tin of sweets sitting in your lap. Looking at them made you cry all over again

Draco, on the other hand is very confused and rushes after you against his better judgment.

“Look I’m sorry if—” he starts but you cut him off by laughing.

“Merlin, don’t apologize,” you sniffle, standing. “Thank you,” you throw your arms around him, and pull him close, showing your gratitude. He eventually figures out that it’s a hug and hugs you back.

“You really don’t mind?” He asked, hesitant. “Because I... I know it’s stupid. But you never get anything and I know what it like to be ignored by your parents and I just thought—”

“Draco,” you call his attention, finding it sweet that he rambles when he’s nervous. “I don’t mind in the slightest. And it’s not stupid. It’s the kindest thing anyone has done for me,”

Draco fidgets and blushes slightly, looking at the ground.

“I will admit, I’m surprised it’s you,” you mused softly, catching Dracos attention and the hurt on his face. “Only because you’re... I don’t know.” You smile and shrug. “I feel like no one knows that—this part of you,”

“And what part of me is that?” He scoffs, trying to play it off.

“The sweet caring one,” you smile. “Who doesn’t mind sharing his sweets with a girl even though she knows he’s the first to eat dessert every meal,” you raise an eyebrow at him.

Draco goes a deeper shade of red because you’ve caught him in his lie. He starts to apologize again, but you stop him

Later that night you look at all of the letters he wrote you and that you wrote back. And the night before Christmas when everyone else was asleep, you spent the entire night working the letters into a book with magic

You give it to Draco Christmas morning, and though it’s lost in the pile of gifts from his parents, you’re happy (even if your parents didn’t bother to send you anything. You had a few gifts from your friends and you were okay with that)

Draco doesn’t pay much mind to the book until later that night, when he’s alone and can go through it in private. He’s surprised to see that you answered every letter you’ve written him. And he’s sort of in awe. He never knew that they meant that much to you

He thinks of you and your smile and how you’ve poured your heart out into these letters the same way he has and he never thought anyone would open up to him like that

Slytherins had a reputation to uphold—you both knew that, so the fact that both of you had this little secret made things a bit better

You see each other the next day and he thanks you for the gift and it’s a bit awkward, but in a nice way

Draco still sends you letters but now he signs them and they get a bit ridiculous that they make you laugh

“Did you see how Snape tripped over his robes today?” “You’ll never guess what Blaise did today...” “Greg actually asked me if the sky was blue because it’s not blue at night,”

They’re so endearing and making you giggle to yourself. You always catch Draco’s eye from across the hall and he raises an eyebrow at you, daring you to say something

Your friends of course want to know who’s making you laugh with their letters and you try so hard to not let your secret slip because you don’t think Draco would want anyone to know

And you’re afraid if others do know, he’ll stop writing to you. Letting his pride and ego get the better of him.

Draco wonders if you’re embarrassed to be talking to him so he never reveals your secret either but your both a bit frustrated at the other because of this dance you’re going through

He still writes to you over the summer and they’re more diary entries than they are letters but you still love them and respond when you can your parents might get suspicious and you don’t want to lose your penpal

You totally sneak into his families box during the Quidditch World Cup and your parents didn’t notice because they never do and you have the best time with Draco, both rooting for different teams

“You just like them because of Krum,” Draco accuses.

“Do not!” You argue back. “And besides he’s a great player anyway!”

Draco grumbles “I could do better,” and you have to laugh at him and he smiles at you

He grabs your hand and you both run as the Dark Mark is sent out over the match and Draco pulls you out of the chaos to where it was safe and you wait out the attack. He holds you protectively as you shake with fear against your will

Neither of you mention it. But at night you remember the feel of his arms and he remembers your warmth as you both curl around pillows wishing it was the other

Fourth year means the Durmstang students are rooming with the Slytherins and you get to share some of your classes with Krum and you might just explode with awe

Draco is jealous and hell hath no fury

Now Draco starts to send you ridiculous little gifts and notes almost weekly

Your friends (and most of the school) are now interested in this secret admirer of yours and you huff and you’re more annoyed at Draco than anything because he was being well, ridiculous

You grab Draco one day and confront him because he just sent you a bouquet of sunflowers

“What the hell?” You demand. “You said you liked sunflowers in Herbology,” Draco shrugged. You growl and storm away.

Now he’s sending you notes in class when you’re with Victor who doesn’t even sit next to you

At that point the secret is out on who your secret admirer is and now Victor won’t even talk to you because of Draco’s behavior.

You’re livid to say the least.

You stop talking to Draco altogether and become indifferent. You almost tell him to stop sending you things because you don’t want them, but you don’t.

It’s not that you don’t want the gifts and the kind gestures you just know it’s coming from the wrong place and it doesn’t sit right with you.

“What is wrong with you?” Draco demands one day.

“Wrong with me!?” You snap back. “What is wrong with you!? Seriously Draco! I’m not some shiny toy you can show off!! I’m not something you can claim either! So stop trying!”

“Who said that I was—”

You give him a sharp dangerous look and he shuts up.

You storm away again, tears in your eyes because it’s not how you wanted things to go.

It felt like you were walking away from your best friend and you knew you couldn’t fix it. And maybe that’s what it was like.

You almost run into Krum and fall down, but he catches you. Concern grows when he sees you crying. His concern for you just makes you cry more as your run back to your dorm room, not caring about the whispers around you as you lock your door and sob.

There’s a knock on your door and you have a good idea of who it is, but you don’t really want to talk to him right now

And Draco knows that. Sure, it took you to confront him about what he was doing, but you were right, you weren’t some toy to fight over

He sat against the other side of the door, mimicking your curled up position

“...I’m sorry,” You hear through the door. “You’re right. I... you’re not... I’m sorry...” 

When you finally have the courage to open the door, he’s gone

You close the door again and flop on your bed, screaming into a pillow

You may or may not fall asleep there... 

in the morning there’s a letter sitting on your window sill

Knowing who it’s from, you curl up in your covers with the letter and open it

Draco had spent about two hours thinking of how to make things right again, to prove how sorry he was... and so he poured out his entire heart to you in a letter

it was messy, scratched out, sappy, and heart felt, and apologetic and vulnerable and a beautiful mess that you couldn’t help but read again, and again, and again until you let a few tears slip out

You quickly get dressed for the day and rush into the Great Hall, seeing Draco sulking at the breakfast table, until he sees you, then his eyes go wide with panic and fear

It takes everything in you to remain composed and not run down the line of tables, but you manage

He stands to meet you and you smile, grabbing his robe and pulling him close, pressing your lips to his

“But... I... and you...” Draco fumbles, pulling away. 

“I might not want to be owned,” You grin, pulling out his letter, “But I’ll belong to this Draco any day,” 

“Deal,” He grins, and cups your face, kissing you again

.

masterlist

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more like this:

muggleborn!slytherin

patronus cliche

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[hallowed-be-thy-username]

Clothing Is Custom, No Labels

“No matches on prints, DNA, dental. Clothing is custom, no labels. Nothing in his pockets but knives and lint. No name, no other alias.”

Summary: You’re one of the last bespoke tailors in town, making suits and custom clothing for Gotham’s elite. Business men and women, well known lawyers, the Wayne family, and... the Joker?

Genre: Self-insert

Pairing: Ledger!Joker x fem reader

Warnings: angst? mentions of J killing reader, descriptions of cutting, blood, just a titch of knife play (not nsfw just yet though)

Word count: 2,577

Author’s Note: I’m excited about this one, guys!! Things are getting intense! Also RIP my laptop, I’m posting this on the mobile app so the formatting is kinda crazy and I can’t inset a keep reading 😭 so scroll with caution and heed the warnings!

Musical Inspiration: Venus In Furs by The Velvet Underground

- Part Four - A suit. It was a suit that put you in this position, standing next to him. He seemed even broader, taller, his presence more imposing. His smile said everything. It sent a shiver down to your toes, goosebumps prickling your back.

You tried to move but you were stuck, staring at him. He had a look in his eyes, different than before. He knew the effect, his allure, the pull, that his just standing there was having on you.

He basked in your reflexive attention, wide eyes taking in the way he looked in the suit. He looked… incredible. Striking. It turned out better than you’d ever hoped. Something fervent and inauspicious was displayed in front of you, stirring an unfamiliar feeling in your guts. You really weren’t sure how long you’d been standing there, looking at him. Seconds? Minutes? You opened your mouth but no sound came out, only a huff of breath.

“I, um, I’m sorry,” you finally managed to squeak past your vocal cords.

Joker chuckled through his nose and asked, “Sorry for wha-t?”

Your face flushed, heat rising into your cheeks. “U-um, I um, for staring,” you answered quickly.

He chuckled louder this time, sending butterflies quivering in your stomach with a queasy jolt. Looking back at the mirror, he said, “Uh, aren’t you supposed to?”

You took a moment to process what he meant before swiftly jerking yourself in motion to grab your tailoring chalk and set of pins from the table, keeping your eyes down as you suddenly felt uncomfortable meeting his gaze again. Something about him wearing your suit set your nerves even more on edge, heightened with anxious energy buzzing through you. But you had to calm yourself. Focus, breathe. You decided to start with the back of the coat so that you could avoid his hypnotic eyes a bit longer.

Blowing a breath through your lips, you looped your measuring tape over your neck and approached him from behind.

“I, I’m gonna check the fit of the coat,” you said.

His green-haired head nodded silently and you slowly reached out to touch the coat. In spite of your best efforts, your hands shook frustratingly, lingering out in front of you until you pushed past that pervasive hesitance and placed your palms on his back, between his shoulders.

The wool warmed by his heat met your skin, tingles shooting down your back in reply. Your anxieties were beginning to irritate you. Every little sensation, movement, or sound from him made you feel like you were on fire and it wouldn’t stop. Just keep going, he’s watching you, he’s waiting. Your own thoughts didn’t help either.

You let the resulting electricity run through you as you moved your hands, smoothing the purple fabric until you reached the edges where you tugged at it, checking how it fit his broad shoulders. They curved beneath the heavy layer, the fit leaving just enough room to move them. Your heart pumped a bit faster, anxiety beginning to twist into some sort of exhilaration at the feeling of his form beneath your hands.

It followed you as you checked the sleeve pitch, your fingers straightening the sleeve where it met the body of the coat, falling in line all the way to the cuff. They buzzed with nervous anticipation as you fluttered them over more of the fabric. It almost felt good.

Routine took over while you continued to muse over the garment, now scrutinizing the details more carefully with pins between your teeth to pluck and slide into place over any areas where you felt the fit needed improvement. So focused on your ardent task, you hadn’t really noticed that you’d stepped in front of him, eyes glued to the lapels resting on his chest that steadily rose and fell, his body otherwise completely still. Like a living mannequin that wore your creation so perfectly. You marked where the lapels laid against the front of the coat with lines of chalk and stepped back to check the symmetry. Suddenly you stiffened and your pulse thrummed faster as you felt his eyes on you.

You swallowed and slowly lifted your gaze, you breath quickening. He was staring at you. His expression was blank, unreadable, all you could do was stare back.

His tongue flicked out over the forked scar on his lip, drawing your eyes to it, then to the rest of the damage to his face. There was no ignoring their presence. If people were always staring at them, then how much did he think about them? Do they still hurt? Would the phantom of the sensation that came with their creation spark with pain at random? Perhaps the damaged nerve endings conducted tangled signals, the haphazardly healed tissue trying desperately to function as it once did. Varying between feelings of numbness, stinging, prickling, overwhelming sensitivity, or any combination of these crawling across his permanent smile. Maybe sensations were elicited from no stimulus at all, as if recalling its own former trauma.

His gravelly voice pulled you out of your thoughts when he asked, “How does it look, hm?”

“It, it looks incredible,” you words tumbled out before you could think, prompting the heat of embarrassment to rise up to your ears.

He grinned at you and replied, “Is that so?”

No knowing what else to do except play along, you nod slowly, your eyes still locked on each other’s.

“Ahh the creator speaks well of her creation, hm?” he said.

“Uh, no! Well, I mean, yes? It, you, uh, I think it came together nicely,” you sputtered in response.

Joker chuckled and responded in a husky voice, “Gooood.”

Your heart flipped in your chest and your lips parted to take in a deep breath. You didn’t know what to think about what was happening. You were afraid. But fear was now joined by another feeling. Some faint excitement reaching up from deep down inside, drawn out by the way he looked at you. They swirled together in your stomach, telling you to run away but keeping you there in front of him, filling you with some want for him to speak to you again.

“Um, do you like the fit?” you finally asked.

He shifted his gaze back to the mirror and gripped the collar of the coat to shift it slightly.

“You’re the ex-pert, doll,” he said, not taking his eyes away from the mirror.

“Oh, o-ok,” you said quietly, almost under your breath, as your feet carried you toward him again.

You walked around him in a circle, checking your marked alterations once more. It was perfect. But you could stand there all night, inspecting how it hung off his body. Why? You didn’t really know.

Trying not to linger too long, you said softly, “It, um, it, looks good to me. So, uh, let’s have a look at the, um, the jacket.”

He slid the coat off of his shoulders to hand it to you, the fabric still warm in your hands as you draped it over the stand. You turned back to him to check the suit jacket, knowing his eyes were on you made your skin tingle. Hesitation flashed in your mind but was promptly snuffed out by the inexplicable fascination that continued to take you over.

You reached out and took both sides of the jacket front in your hands, lining up the buttons with their corresponding holes and gliding them through. You walked around him, trying to focus on your task and not the quivering of your stomach. After checking the sleeves and making some adjustments, you reached for the buttons once more. You could tell him to take the jacket off, or you could do it yourself. Like you had no control over them, your fingers unfastened each button before moving to slide the jacket from his shoulders as he silently complied.

Your hands trembled less the longer you touched him. It felt dangerous, getting used to that feeling of riskiness, imminent consequence not setting off the response it should be. Your feet should carry you away from danger, not draw you toward it. But oh, was it tempting. You stood closer to face him. The tension of your muscles and tingling of your skin had become strangely addictive, your nerves encouraged you to chase the feeling, despite what would be better judgement.

Your systematic undressing left him standing in the pinstripe pants with the hem reaching just to the tops of his brown shoes, hexagon patterned shirt, and green vest that hugged his sides to outline his broad chest down to his lean waist. You stepped closer. He smelled like greasepaint and cigarettes.

When you straightened the collar of the shirt, your fingers grazed over his neck in what was almost a seductive manner, raising goosebumps up your arms and suddenly the silence in the room became all too obvious. You sucked in a breath, pulled your hands back and froze with your eyes on his chest in front of you. It expanded with his breath that now warmed your face and you found yourself unable to move once again, stuck in the pull he had on you.

There it was. The familiar feeling of arousal fluttered in your core and your face flushed. You cursed your body’s reaction. This can’t be happening. Not with him.

“Look at me,” he said plainly.

Your breath trembled slightly as you shifted your eyes up to meet his. His gaze sent your heart racing, overwhelming and entrancing. He looked as though he could swallow you whole. Fear is a fickle thing. It could save your life, keep you out of danger. Don’t go down that dark alley, someone might be lurking. Don’t touch that snake, it might bite you. But it can betray you, too. It can mingle with desire, giving you that toxic gift of adrenaline, flowing through your veins like a drug. It saturates your mind, drowning out the instincts you thought were instilled so steadfast. You reached for that snake to let it sink its fangs into your flesh.

“Are you afraid?” he asked, his voice thick like honey.

Your eyes burned, locked with his dark pupils as you nodded slowly, your body acting on raw impulse.

The click of a switchblade met your ears and you stiffened as he brought it up to your cheek, holding the back of your neck with his other hand. Your body shuttered and twitched uncontrollably, your head beginning to feel light.

He stared deeper into your eyes and growled, “No you’re not.”

His words spun around in your mind. You were afraid, you wanted to be afraid. But something wouldn’t let it come to the surface. It shouted for you to run, scream, anything show him it was there. But it’s voice was muffled by the sick thrill that his knife at your cheek sent coursing through you. Would he cut you? Would he kill you? The threat of blood dripping to the floor weighed heavy over both of you.

“Careful doll,” he rumbled, lowering the knife from your face. “Tha-t is a danger-ous game.”

Game? It didn’t feel like a game. Your chest squeezed uncomfortably when you thought about his knife dragging across your skin, the sting that would follow it as the surface split open.

“A… a game?” you asked with your voice quivering.

He hummed and nodded his head, his gaze never breaking away from yours.

“Play with fire and you get burned,” he rumbled, bringing his face even closer.

Your heart pounded up into your throat and your blood ran hot. He saw something in your eyes. He knew. He knew the thought of being with him excited you and you had no control over it. You ached with need. A need that was new and sharp, pricking at your insides. You needed to know what it would be like. Had you lost your sensibilities?

Suddenly he stepped forward and you backed up reflexively, each step steering you backwards until you were halted by the wall, nowhere to go. He put his hand on the wall beside you and leaned against it. He lifted the knife he still held in his other hand and placed the point at the top of your chest, right in the middle. Then he leaned in, bringing his lips to your ear.

A powerful shiver ran down your back as he spoke in a low voice, “How about now?”

This was the game. A contest of wills. Would you cry? Try to get away? Or would you bleed for him?

Your skin was set ablaze beneath the blade and your jaw clenched as you sucked air in through your teeth. A trickle of sticky red ran onto your shirt as he moved away with the knife, watching you through heavy lids. The tiny cut on your chest stung, the pain mixing with your heightened senses. It was confusing, this feeling of fulfillment. He still held the knife, he could still kill you. But this felt different. Your heart began to slow its unforgiving racing and you breathed deeply.

His red lips twitched into a smile, impious and entrancing.

“Ahhh look what we have here. There it iiis,” he purred. “Don’t forget, doll, the fire’s hot. Wouldn’t want ya to, uh, get burned too bad, hm?”

Your jaw dropped open slightly as you stared at him, speechless. What just happened? What does he mean?

Before any words could form from your mouth, be stepped back. He clicked the knife into its handle and casually strolled back over to the mirror.

“You, uh, really have outdone yourself, doll,” he said, starting to unknot the tie around is neck. “You have ta-lent.”

You remained silent and wide eyed, stuck in place against the wall as he stripped down to his boxer shorts in front of you, rendering you even more stunned. Then he pulled on his tattered shirt and pants with the frayed jacket he arrived in.

He straightened his collar and turned back toward you. His eyes made your stomach quiver once more before he purred, “I’ll be back tomorrow. Looking forward to it, doll.”

You blinked and the door closed. He was gone.

Reality came rushing over you in a cold sweat. You slid down the wall to sit on the floor, suddenly gasping for air and panting as your hands trembled.

You forced yourself to take deep breaths and closed your eyes, wiping the sweat from your brow as you leaned your head back against the wall. Then your eyes snapped open and you lifted your hand to gently touch your finger to your chest. You looked to see your blood glistening on your fingertip.

He cut you. Shallow and small, but skin was broken. You should have been afraid but you didn’t fear the act itself. No, you feared the feeling it left behind. The thrill was intense, filling you up with a strange euphoria. An arousal. You should be dead, drained of life by the point of a knife. But you only grazed the blade. You wanted to chase that feeling, follow it for more. Tangle with danger and let it touch you all over.

You danced with the devil and he left you wanting more.

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

Taglist: @amethystmoonprincess @call-me-harley-quinn @liz-rdwitch @germansarechill @thesadvampire @tsukiakarinobara @heavymetalnarwhal @neverputsaltinyoureyes @apocalypticwafflekitten @astheworlddturns @komatheterrible @jokersqueenofchaos @killingjokee

[autisticfangpyreclub]

Gold stained hands, red stained teeth - chapter 1

I finally managed to start writing the vampire au i posted literally a year ago, quarantine does that to ya. Enjoy!

(@kyra-plays sorry it took so long for me to start writing this fic!)

-

“We’re here!”

Kai grunted as he was shaken awake by the car jostling to a halt. He sluggishly sat up in his seat and looked out the window. They were parked in front of a huge iron gate, overgrown with vines and moss. “This is the place?” he slurred, shaking his head to try and wake himself up.

“Yup,” Nya replied. She tossed a crumpled piece of paper onto his lap. “Check it out, I’m gonna go get our tickets.”

She hopped out of the car, and ran over to the ticket booth. Kai yawned, and clicked the light on in the car. The piece of paper had every spot on their haunted building tour written on it, along with a small blurb about each location. He skimmed through the names until he found where they were.

“Castle Garmadon…”

It had been built in the 14th century, allegedly by only two people. A woman and her husband, rumoured by the local townsfolk to both be vampires.

He could believe it when he saw what the castle looked like. It was ginormous, towering over the iron gates surrounding it. The castle sat atop a cliff that overlooked the town below, and it gave the entire countryside a dark and gothic vibe. It looked like something straight out of dracula.

“There you are!”

Kai jumped at the sudden hand on his shoulder, but relaxed when he saw it was only Jay. “Hey, when’d you get here?” Kai asked.

“Just now,” Jay said, gesturing at the blue van that was parked beside Nya’s car. “Zane’s trying to drag Cole out right now, he’s having a bit of a freak out.”

They both turned their heads to see Zane tugging Cole by the arm, trying to pull him off the car door. Cole lost his grip just as Zane gave a hard yank. Kai winced as they both fell backwards onto the concrete ground, that was still wet from the recent shower of rain. “What’s going on with them?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Jay crossed his arms and leaned back against the iron gate. “I hear Cole’s got like, a really bad fear of vampires.”

Kai couldn’t stop himself from snorting. “Seriously? Why?”

Jay shrugged. “No clue, think he just watched too many horror movies as a little kid,” he raised an eyebrow and scanned the parking lot, “hey, where’s Nya?”

“Hey Jay!” Nya grinned as she ran over to them. “I got our tickets,” she handed a ticket to Jay, and then one to Kai, “apparently we’re the only visitors they’ve had in months, so we’ve got the whole place to ourselves to explore!”

“Awesome!” Jay pumped his fist in the air. “Free reign to touch anything we feel like!”

“I told you in the van Jay, we must respect this castle,” Zane chided, approaching them with a mopey looking Cole in tow. “Look with your eyes, not your hands.”

“Ugh, fine. You brought the go pro right?”

Zane sighed, then reached into his shoulder bag. He pulled out an awkwardly large camera, and strapped it over his forehead. “I don’t know why you insisted on this head mount.”

“Panoramic shots Zane, panoramic shots!” Jay shot back, “now lean down so I can adjust it.”

Kai chuckled to himself watching Jay attempt to jump to Zane’s level. His focus drifted towards Cole, who’s eyes were darting back and forth between the gate and the castle, while his hands clenched the sleeves of his jacket. He was rocking back and forth on the spot and muttering something ineligible to himself.

“You good Cole?” Kai asked him, reaching a hand out to grab his shoulder.

Cole flinched and snapped out of his nervous rambling. “What? Oh, I’m fine,” he waved his hand nonchalantly, “just… the castle is so big, it was making me a little, uh… unsettled, yeah, that’s all it is…”

Kai didn’t really believe that, but he didn’t want to hassle him. He just gave Cole a pat on the shoulder and left it at that. The five of them showed their tickets to the guard at the gate, and walked into the courtyard.

-

Those piercing red eyes had to be the creepiest thing about the paintings Cole was surrounded by. It was bad enough that the old castle looked like it was going to collapse any moment, or that it reeked of death and mold. Of course, of course it also had to be infested by vampires. Vampires who loved having their portraits painted, apparently.

“I think these ropes kinda ruin it for me,” Kai said while prodding at one of the velvet ropes that formed a barrier around the paintings. “The illusion of walking through a historical castle thing I mean.”

Cole turned around to glare at him. “Are you seriously not creeped out by all… this?”

Kai gave him a quizzical look. “I can’t really see anything creepy about it.” He walked over and slung his arm over Cole's shoulder. “It’s just an old building dude, nothing to be afraid of except like… maybe asbestos.”

“There is no asbestos in this castle Kai, the maintenance staff thoroughly check and upkeep the entire building twice a year,” Zane said. He was taking pictures of everything using the go pro Jay had thoroughly adjusted several times now. Jay himself was admiring the two giant swords affixed to the wall, along with Nya who was taking pictures with her phone.

Cole pushed Kai off him. “I’m not scared, I’m just saying it’s creepy. I mean, why do all these paintings have red eyes?”

“Because their vampires, duh!” Jay yelled over to them. Kai shot him a glare, and he looked away sheepishly. “I mean, that’s the most popular theory…”

Jay yelped as Nya shoved him in the shoulder. “There’s no such thing as vampires, stop trying to scare him Jay,” she said.

Jay winced and shuffled away from her while rubbing his shoulder. “I wasn’t! Just stating the facts!”

“I agree with Nya, there is simply no scientific evidence at all that backs up the existence of vampires, or any supernatural phenomena at all for that matter,” Zane said flatly. “No matter what conspiracy theorists say to try to defend their opinion, nothing can rationalize it,” he looked pointedly at Jay while speaking, who rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, we get it science man,” Jay said, “in other words, Cole needs to stop being a baby.”

Cole sputtered. “Shut up! Can we just get this whole haunted building tour over with?” Cole sighed while shaking his head. “I can’t believe you guys forced me into this…”

“Excuse me? We all agreed to do this together!” Jay scoffed at him. He absentmindedly scratched at the peeling wallpaper, then frantically tried to hide a chunk he pulled off in his pocket before Zane could yell at him.

“That was before I found out one of the spots on the list was a vampire infested hellhole!” Cole spat at him.

Kai gave Cole a gentle pat on the back. “It’ll be alright man, if you get scared I’ll just let you hold my hand okay?”

Cole scowled. “I don’t need to…”

A loud creaking sound suddenly echoed through the building. Cole screamed and grasped onto Kai’s hoodie for dear life.

“Uhh…” Kai glanced over at Cole, who was cowering and hiding his face in Kai’s shoulder. “You good man?”

In a realization that nothing was coming to kill him, Cole pulled away from Kai like he’d been burned. Jay was laughing like a maniac in the background, and he even heard Zane chuckle softly. Nya just shook her head and walked past them.

“C'mon guys, we’ve only got about another hour and there’s still way more castle to see,” she said, pulling Jay by the arm who was still laughing so hard he was gasping for breath.

Cole felt his face heating up. He pulled his shirt over his face so that no one could see how red he was. Or how much he was still sweating. “Uh… Kai, I think I might just take you up on that offer…”

-

“Y’know, I hear the electric lights in this place have always been here, because the people who lived here were so old they had knowledge from the golden age about electricity that was lost to time,” Jay remarked, as they passed by a marble bust lit up by a light on the ceiling.

“That’s impossible, electric lighting was unheard of during the 15th century, and people barely lived past their thirties, much less thousands of years,” Zane replied.

“Unless they were vampires…” Jay hummed.

Cole shuddered, and squeezed Kai’s hand. As embarrassing as it was to be holding Kai’s hand like he was a little kid going through a haunted house, it was… comforting. Jay was being the absolute opposite of comforting, he was being a pain in the ass.

“Hey Cole, you cold?” Jay asked with a taunting grin. “You're shivering so much, it’s like you just saw a ghost!” He poked Cole on the cheek, and snickered when he let out a frightened squeak.

Cole grit his teeth, and grasped Kai’s hand tighter. Kai took notice of this, and pulled him in closer. “Shut it Jay, give it up already,” he snapped.

Jay stuck his tongue out and ran ahead of them. The castle was like a maze of hallways, staircases, and small rooms filled with nothing but aged looking statues and paintings. They hadn’t found anything like a kitchen or a bedroom yet, but they had walked through a faintly coppery smelling wine cellar.

“This place is less a house, and more an art museum,” Nya mused, gazing up at the idyllic painting of the night sky above her. “Oh hey, there’s a hole in the wall...”

She pulled out a book that was tucked inside the small crevice in the wall, and flipped it open to a random page. “How to grow the finest lavender… the most efficient way to cultivate your vegetables… slugs, snails, and other wretched fiends found in the garden,” she read aloud, being reminded of the decently kept flower patch they passed in the courtyard. “They must’ve really loved gardening…”

The hallway they were in now was long and narrow, with red carpeted floors and black stone walls covered in scratch marks. The carpet was stained and tattered, and the floorboards sounded like they were screaming when they were stepped on. The hole Nya had discovered wasn’t alone, many more littered the wall and even the floor, Jay having discovered one when he tripped and fell on his face.

“Odd…” Zane hummed, “this hallway seems much less cared for than the rest of the castle…”

“No kidding, this floor is gross…” Nya groaned, stepping over a particularly large dark stain. “And where are the windows? I actually haven’t seen a single one anywhere.”

Jay stopped in front of a painting of a raging ocean, and put a finger to his lips as if in thought. “Maybe… the ones who lived here didn’t want any sunlight getting in,” he said.

“Jay!” Nya yelled at him.

Cole shuddered, and hid his face in his hands. “Oh god, it all makes sense… red eyes, no windows, creepy castle… look, there’s even a glass full of blood in that painting!” he said and pointed towards the painting in question.

Most of the paintings of people in the castle were of the same person, and this one was no exception. He was young looking, and had blonde curls that hung over his eyes and just barely touched his shoulders. He had dark brown skin, and freckles that covered his entire face. He wore a black high collared cape that was fastened by a golden flower-shaped brooch. A green ribbon was tied around his neck. The most striking thing about the boy was his bright red eyes, but despite the unnerving colour they had a gentle look to them. He also did indeed have a glass filled with… something red in his grasp.

“It’s likely wine,” Zane said.

“Or blood!” Cole yelled back at him.

“Or… maybe it’s tomato juice?”

Zane and Cole both gave Kai a blank look. “Seriously? Tomato juice? This isn’t bunnicula we’re talking about Kai,” Cole said, “he’s a REAL vampire, not some kids cartoon.”

“Kai, tomato juice had not yet been invented at the time this painting was done, and Cole, I’m telling you vampires are most certainly not real, please calm yourself,” Zane said, irritation seeping into his tone.

“But why the red eyes then huh? Explain that!” Cole slapped a hand onto the painting, eliciting a gasp from Zane.

“Cole!” he yelled, “that painting is centuries old, it’s a priceless piece of history-“

“In my personal opinion,” Jay cut in, stepping in between them and leaning on the rope, “I think the whole legend is legit.”

Zane glared at him. “Jay, don’t start this again-“

“Seriously, this family lives in this huge mysterious spooky castle, no one ever sees them go out during the day, they barely interact with anyone, and then some guy with a silver sword-“

“Wait, why is the fact that it’s silver important?” Kai asked.

“Because vampires are weak to silver Kai, keep up!”

“I thought that was werewolves?”

“Well uh… uh… they're both weak to it alright?!” Jay stuttered, “anyways… he has a silver sword, and he kills the whole family, AND he cuts their heads off and sticks a wooden stake in all their hearts… why?”

“Because he was an asshole?” Nya helpfully supplied.

“Because they were vampires!” Cole yelled, “and they got what was coming to them, thank god…”

“Exactly,” Jay said.

Zane rubbed his temples, and let out a pained sigh. “You two make my brain hurt sometimes.”

“Hey, if you guys are done can we please just keep going?” Kai groaned. They ignored him, and only started arguing louder. He clapped his hands over his ears to block them out, and turned to Nya and nudged her. “Hey, you wanna just go on ahead?” he asked.

Her face scrunched up as she mulled it over. “I’m tempted but…” she glanced over at Zane who was physically restraining Jay from touching the painting, and shook her head. “Someone needs to keep them in check.”

“Fair enough… you mind if I…?”

“Go for it.”

Kai quietly snuck away from the scene of Jay loudly pointing out all the obvious vampire clues in the painting while in the clutches of Zane’s arms, and walked deeper into the mysterious darkness of the castle.

-

The many twisting and turning narrow hallways eventually led Kai to a small, dusty room. It was completely empty. “Aw man, dead end…”

He walked into the room anyways, his eyes drawn to the swirling flower patterns on the green walls, a contrast to the pure black walls of the hallway he came in from. The ceiling was also unusually low, not low enough that he had to duck, but low enough that he could feel his hair brush against it.

“Kai!”

Kai turned around to see Cole running towards him, Jay, Zane and Nya tailing behind him. He came to a screeching halt in front of the door, gasping for breath. “Kai, why the hell did you wander off?!”

“Because you were all held up arguing, I got bored. Wait, were you worried I got like, murdered or something?” Kai asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cole’s cheeks flushed. “No, you just get lost really easily, so I thought-“

“He was totally scared you got murdered, that’s why he was running,” Jay said, “hey, what’s going on in here?”

Jay pushed past a fuming Cole, and walked over to the back wall. “Huh, this is weird… ooh! I bet there’s a switch in here for a secret passage!”

He started pressing his hands into random spots on the wall, musing aloud to himself as he did it. “Not here… not there… guys, come in here and help me look for it!”

“Jay, that sounds dum- ow!” Cole banged his head against the low ceiling. He dropped to the floor, and tried to rub the swelling pain away. “Why is this entire castle built so bad?!” he groaned.

“Ah, the tough life of a mountain sized man,” Kai laughed.

Cole brushed the dust off his pants as he stood back up. “Well, better than being as short as Jay I guess.”

“I HEARD THAT!”

“Let’s just not spend too much time here alright? I’m starting to feel claustrophobic…” Cole said, trying to avoid touching the rotting wood on the doorframe as he shuffled out of the room.

Zane ducked his head as he entered. He gazed around curiously before joining Jay by the back wall. “I doubt there’s a secret passage, but there is something fascinating about this wall.”

“What is it?” Nya asked as she walked in, closing the door behind her. She laid a hand against the wall, but pulled away at the icy cold feeling against her palm. “Yeesh, must have been fun to live here during the winter. Not.”

“Yes, I noticed the temperature as well, but that’s not what I mean,” Zane pointed to a tiny spot on the wall. “Look at this.”

She leaned in to see what he was looking at, but all she could see were squiggly golden lines. “Uh… what exactly I am supposed to be looking at?”

“What’re we looking at?” Kai said as he leaned in over Nya’s shoulder.

“We’re looking at a line of writing in an ancient language, native to Ninjago, spoken by only a handful of people in modern times,” Zane replied, zooming the go pro in to get a better shot. “And lucky for us, I know this language… don’t take that ancient languages class Zane, they said, you’ll never have any use for it, they said-“

“So uh, what does it say?” Jay asked, having given up on searching for a secret passageway.

“Huh? Oh, right…” Zane wiped the dust away from the lettering, and cleared his throat. “It says, ‘reveal my sanctuary’, but then again, I could be-“

Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, a bright green light began emitting from the wall. All four of them drew back in alarm, Kai tripping over himself and landing on the floor.

“Wha- Zane?! What’d you do?!” Jay yelled, backing up until he bumped against the doorframe.

Zane didn’t answer, his mouth agape as he stumbled back from the light. The door creaked open, and Cole popped his head in. “Hey, what’re you guys yelling about- WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The light suddenly vanished, and in its place was a golden door. The room was silent as they all stared at it. Jay coughed.

“So… who’s gonna go open it?” he asked, still keeping himself as far away from the door as possible.

“None of us!” Cole shouted. “Who knows what’s behind there?” He shakily crept back into the room, and hid behind Zane. “I mean, what if there’s dead bodies that have been rotting in there forever… or worse?”

Zane nodded, and gave Cole a gentle pat on the head. “I agree with Cole, I think it’d be best to ask a facility member about this.”

“And miss the chance to go somewhere we’re not supposed to be without anyone knowing?” said Kai, who without anyone noticing already had his hand on the doorknob.

“NO KAI DON’T-“

He ignored Cole, and slammed open the door. He flipped on the light switch, and was greeted with a colourful sight. This new room was very spacious, and anything but empty.

Shelves covered in glass figurines and ornate jewelry boxes lined the walls, and a giant display case bursting with dolls and plush toys stood against the far wall beside a cabinet filled with wine glasses and bottles. There was a half open wooden wardrobe with gold flowers painted on it, with many lacy and sparkling dresses and capes hanging inside. Green flowing drapes hung from the ceiling, framing a large portrait of the blonde haired boy with two others, a dark-haired solemn looking man, and a woman with red hair and a soft smile.

Kai’s mouth dropped as he stared at the beautiful decor in wonder. It was like being in the room of a disney princess. Well, aside from the coffin that was laying in the center of the room.

“Wait, what?” Kai did a double take. A… coffin. It honestly looked more like a bed with the drapes hanging over it, but it was undeniably a coffin the more he stared at it. “Woah…”

“What’s woah?” Jay peeked over his shoulder, then gasped sharply. “I can’t believe it! I was right! Hey Zane, come in here!”

All of them huddled around the coffin, except for Cole who stayed in the doorway. “Oh my god… is… that a-“

“Coffin? Yup,” Nya said, running a hand along the golden patterns on the coffin's lid. “This is so creepy…”

Cole felt like he was going to throw up. “This is so bad… this is so bad you guys- KAI!!”

Kai flinched and dropped the lid of the coffin. “What? I just wanted a peek.”

Zane’s eyes were wide with amazement. “This is incredible… we may be the first ones to discover this historical treasure… although I do agree that we shouldn’t open it,” he added, “not because of vampires, but because there is likely a decomposing body inside.”

“Gross…” Nya gagged, and stepped back to take a photo from a safer distance from the dead body.

“You seriously still don’t believe me?!” Jay shouted, while violently gesturing to the coffin. “This is all the proof you need!”

Zane narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Hardly. This doesn’t indicate anything other than the fact that this room served as a crypt of some sort, probably for a beloved family member.”

“It’s obviously a vampires bedroom!” Jay retorted. “Probably the blonde guys, since the other two were a married couple so they’d have a two person coffin-“

Nya snorted. “A two person coffin? Those don’t exist.”

“Well I for one think it’s a great product pitch!”

Kai wandered behind the coffin and gazed up at the portrait. The family seemed to really love getting their picture painted. They’d probably lose their minds if they were around when cameras were invented.

He really couldn’t see anything scary about the family though. The blonde kid especially, he just looked like a normal teenager, who just happened to have red eyes. There were plenty of normal human beings who had red eyes.

“I’m just saying there’s no way you can prove that vampires aren’t real.”

“False, I can prove it quite easily with-“

“Guys, give it a rest!” Nya groaned in exasperation. “Look, why don’t we just open the coffin for a minute so we can find out once and for all which one of you is right.”

Zane and Jay looked at each other, then both nodded in agreement. “Sure, why not?” Jay shrugged.

“While I hate disturbing such a beautiful artifact, or any possible remains inside, if it can end this tiresome discussion I agree it is the best course of action,” Zane said.

“Great!” Kai cheered, throwing his arms up, “I’ll open it-“

“NO! NO NO NO ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Cole shrieked as he barreled into the room and blocked Kai’s path. “Do you all wanna have a vampire suck the blood from you like a human juice box? BECAUSE THIS IS HOW THAT HAPPENS!”

“Cole, chill! It’ll be fine! If there was a vampire inside there, don’t you think they would have tried to kill us by now?” Kai asked, gripping onto Cole’s shoulders to try and keep him steady.

Cole glanced down and bit his lip. “Well… it’s daytime, so they might be sleeping-“

“No offense Cole, but you just did a whole lot of screaming,” Nya pointed out. “I think they’d be awake by now.”

“That’s… true… okay, fine,” Cole relented, “you can open it, but before you do…”

He walked over to a small wooden footstool that was laying on its side, and broke a leg off it. Zane let out a strangled cry. “How many times do I have to tell you people, this castle is a piece of history that IS NOT TO BE DISTURBED!”

“This thing is going to protect us,” Cole said while swinging the wooden piece around like it was a sword, “from something far more dangerous if disturbed.”

Zane rolled his eyes and backed away to give Kai room to pry open the coffin. He slid the lid off, and shoved it onto the floor. A choked gasp came from his lips when he saw what lay inside. He stumbled backwards, and was just narrowly caught by Cole before he fell over.

Cole felt his entire body shaking as he looked from the coffin to the also shaking Kai in his arms. “What?! What is it?!”

“It’s… it’s a…”

Jay finished his sentence for him. “HOLY SHIT, it’s a guy!”

Cole dropped Kai ungracefully onto the floor. “WHAT?!” He gripped his makeshift wooden stake tighter as he peered into the coffin.

The boy from the paintings was lying inside the coffin. His hair was a tangled mess, and he had a wooden stake lodged in his chest, but it was definitely him.

The room was dead silent, until Jay loudly cleared his throat. “Well Cole, somebody beat you to it…”

Cole fell to his knees, his stake clattering onto the floor. “Oh god… oh my god… thank god he’s already dead-“ Cole was hyperventilating, “thank god, oh god-“

“Hey, you wanna say sorry for dropping me anytime soon?” Kai asked dryly from where he was still lying on the floor. “No? We too focused on the dead guy?”

“Kai, this is serious!” Nya snapped at him.

Zane also fell to his knees, but for a much different reason. His quivering hands carefully pulled the boy’s shirt up to check his injuries.

“This poor boy died recently…”, he whispered, “several fresh cuts and stab wounds… he’s so cold…”

“Don’t touch him!” Cole yelped.

Zane gave him an icy glare. “Cole, please, put aside your superstition for one moment and grasp the reality of this situation!”

“What’re those stains on his shirt?” Nya asked, pointing to the red and gold splotches on the white blouse he was wearing.

“The red I’m assuming is blood,” Zane replied, “but those gold spots… paint maybe? I’m not sure…” he gently brushed the boy’s hair out of his eyes, his heart aching when he saw the bruises covering his face. “Who could do something like this…”

Cole was about to say something before he received a nasty look from Nya, so he shut his mouth and clenched his fists instead.

Kai cautiously prodded at the stake lodged into the boy's chest. “Yikes, that looks like it hurt… hmm,” without thinking about it very much, Kai grabbed onto the stake and yanked it out of the body. Immediately a river of sparkling golden liquid poured out of the wound.

Cole fainted. Kai dropped the stake and grabbed onto him before he hit the floor. “Dude, snap out of it! Don’t bail on us yet!”

Cole’s eyes fluttered. “Vampire… stake… really bad…” he mumbled, drifting between being awake and being unconscious.

“He’s lost it,” Jay said flatly.

Kai lifted Cole down and laid him onto the floor, then looked down at him with a smirk. “By the way, that’s how you put someone gently onto the floor.”

“Shut up… I’m sorry…” was the last thing Cole said before completely passing out.

“Great, Cole’s blacked out, we just found a dead guy and Kai got his fingerprints on the murder weapon which means he’s totally going to be implicated…” Jay stopped mid rant and hummed thoughtfully to himself, “unless we don’t report this to the police-“

“Jay! How could you even suggest that?!” Zane yelled in shock, “he has a family!”

Jay sputtered, but then bowed his head in shame. “Your right, that was shitty thing to say… but… if he is a-“

“If the word vampire leaves your mouth at any time during the foreseeable future, I’m going to stab YOU with a wooden stake,” Nya said coldly, glaring daggers at Jay whilst already dialing 911 on her phone.

“Wait, just, hold it one minute,” Jay stuttered, “how are we supposed to explain this to the police? Hey we found a body in this old tourist attraction that barely gets any visitors anymore, actually according to the lady at the ticket booth we’re the only ones who have gone in here in like months! But there’s totally nothing suspicious about that guys, no way, haha, we’re just a bunch of innocent college students amiright? Oh god we are fu-“

“OW!”

“What is it now Kai?!”

Kai clutched his hand and hissed in pain. “I tried picking up the stake again, but I got a giant ass splinter! Look!”

He waved his hand in Jay’s face. “See? It’s huge! It’s like a whole twig is stuck in there!”

Jay batted his hand away. “Then pull it out, genius.”

Kai grimaced. “Uhhh… I’d rather not…”

Zane grabbed Kai’s uninjured hand and pulled him over to him. He sat Kai down on the rim of the coffin. “Sit still, I’ll pull it out.”

Sitting still was unfortunately not one of Kai’s strengths. He squirmed as Zane tried to pull the sliver of wood from his palm, accidentally kicking him in the knee when the pain flared up. “Ack! Sorry, it just… stings a lot- OW!”

“It hurts because you're moving around, please try not to kick me again… almost got it… got it!”

“AGGH!”

Kai quickly pulled his hand away as a drop of blood trickled down his palm. It dripped from his hand onto the boy's lips, slipping through the tiny part in his mouth.

And then the boy’s eyes opened.

-

Blood. Need blood. Thirsty. Thirsty, I’m so thirsty… need blood, blood, blood…

Lloyd gasped as air flooded back into his lungs, and his cheeks were filled with intense warmth. He breathed in slowly, and almost started crying at how good it felt to finally breathe again. He was alive. He was alive… but he was so thirsty.

Blood. Blood, I need blood now.

His stomach was aching with hunger. He felt like he was about to die again.

No, can’t die again. Blood, blood… I smell blood…

His vision was blurry from his burning hunger. Shadowy figures were leaning over him. He could hear them yelling at each other, he had no idea what they were saying. Their blood smelled delicious. He felt an urge to bite tingling in his jaw, in his fangs.

Blood, delicious blood…

His fangs… they were back. He remembered something from before dying. He could remember them pulling out his fangs… ripping out his treasured fangs, stealing them… as a prize from the hunt. They stuck silver blades into him when he struggled, blades that burned through his flesh and scraped against his bones. And then… and then they…

“Kid, can you hear us-“

He managed to use the little strength he had left to focus his vision, and was met with the sight of four humans looming over him. Lloyd screamed, and frantically tried to push himself away from them. “Leave me alone! Please!”

He tumbled out of his coffin, landing on the floor with a thud. His sharp nails scraped against the floorboards as he tried to get up and run away. It was no use. He fell back onto the floor in exhaustion, and curled up into a tight ball.

“Please, I’ll give you anything you want,” he sobbed, “just please stop hurting me!”

“None of us are going to hurt you kid, we promise,” he heard one of them say.

Lloyd nervously moved his arm aside to see who was speaking to him. The man who had spoken had tall pointed hair, and was dressed in a red… robe of some kind. He didn’t look like a hunter, but he also didn’t look like anyone Lloyd had ever seen. He took a shaky breath. “Who… who are you?”

The man kneeled down in front of him. “I’m Kai. You?”

Lloyd sniffled, and wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye. “Ll… Lloyd…”

“Hey Lloyd, nice to meet you. Here,” the man reached into his robe, and pulled out a small cloth. He handed it to Lloyd, who cautiously accepted it. Holding it in his hand, he realized it was a handkerchief. For him…

At that moment the dam behind his eyes burst, and the tears seemed to endlessly flow out of him. To be treated with such a simple kindness broke him after what he had endured. The overwhelming situation and the aching thirst still inside him was clouding his senses and leaving him vulnerable. Much too vulnerable.

Bite him… drink his blood…

“You poor thing,” another one of the humans, this one taller than all the others, crouched down beside Kai. “My name is Zane, what happened?”

“I… I… It was… they…” Lloyd could barely remember what happened. He didn’t want to remember what happened. All that he could recall was running, and feeling the agonizing sensation in his chest, and then darkness…

“Endless darkness…” he mumbled. It was still inside him. Gnawing away at him.

Blood, blood I need blood I need it NOW-

He hissed, startling the humans who lunged away from him. Lloyd slapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Did you see that?!” the short human in the blue shirt cried out, “he has fangs!”

Oh god, now they knew. They must’ve thought he was human like them, but now they knew he wasn’t. They were going to hurt him, they were going to kill him, no… no, god please…

“Hey, hey hey it’s okay…”

Kai softly shushed him and wiped away a tear that had fallen down his cheek with the handkerchief. “Your safe now Lloyd, no one is going to hurt you anymore,” he soothed.

“You… you mean… you don’t hate me?” Lloyd asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even though I’m… a vampire?”

“Dude, I fucking knew it!” the short human shouted. “Take that Zane-“

“Jay, so not the time,” the only human who hadn’t spoken yet said. She had long black hair, and her sleeveless shirt showed off her built arm muscles. She out of all the humans was the most intimidating.

“Of course we don’t hate you dear,” Zane said, “but when you say vampire… do you really mean…?”

Bite someone now, drink their blood. Do it. Do it NOW.

“Stay with us kid, it’s going to be okay,” Kai placed a hand on Lloyd’s shoulder, but jerked away when Lloyd shuddered. “Sorry, I should’ve-“

He could barely even force himself to speak at this point. Kai’s hand was so warm, and his neck was so close…

BITE HIM DRINK HIS BLOOD DO IT NOW-

His thirst was only getting worse with each passing moment. Pushing away his intrusive thoughts was becoming excruciating, and it was showing on his face as sweat dripped down his temples.

“Please don’t come any closer,” Lloyd begged, covering his face with his hands. “I’m not safe to be around right now…”

Kai backed away, but his gentle expression didn’t waver. “We’re not going to leave you like this, your obviously hurt really bad.”

Bad was an understatement. The gouge in Lloyd’s chest had only partially healed, and blood was still oozing out of the wounds left by the silver knife. If he could get even the tiniest bit of blood…

Jay coughed. “Uh, Kai, if the six hundred year old vampire says he’s going to go crazy, then maybe we should-“

“SIX HUNDRED?!” Lloyd gasped, clutching his chest in shock. There was no way he had seriously been dead for that long. “Oh god… I’ve missed so many… oh god…”

“Uh, well… I mean I might’ve miscalculated the exact amo-“ Jay clamped his mouth shut as he shrunk under the glares from every other human in the room.

Six hundred years… but then that meant… that meant… they were dead. The ones who had done this to him were dead. It felt horrible, celebrating that someone was dead. But…

Kai seemed to catch onto what he was thinking. “The people who did this to you are long gone, lucky for them,” Kai clenched his fist into a tight ball, “because I would’ve made them feel ten times more pain…” he growled.

“And then I would’ve made them feel twenty times that, and ground their asses into the dirt,” the black-haired woman added, her eyes lit up with intensity.

“And I would’ve… uh,” Zane stumbled, “defended you the best I could, because no one should ever have to suffer such horrible abuse.”

Despite the pain, Lloyd could feel a warm sensation filling his chest. These people, whom he had only just met, were treating him with kindness he wasn’t accustomed to from those outside of his family. Perhaps… vampires weren’t as hated now, in this new time period. What a lovely time it must be.

Jay, who was still trying to avoid anyone else’s eyes, found himself staring at the glass cabinet behind the coffin. It was filled with bottles of ‘red wine’, a.k.a, probably blood. He pried it open, and took a bottle out. It was cold, and caked in layers of dust. “Hey uh, this isn’t… human blood, right Lloyd?”

Lloyd’s eyes locked onto the bottle in Jay’s hands. His pupils dilated. “Give me that… please.”

Jay gulped. “Uh, sure…” not wanting to get too close, he tentatively rolled the bottle over to Lloyd, who snatched it up faster than he could blink.

The cork was thrown heedlessly aside. The blood inside the bottle was ancient and spoiled, but Lloyd savoured every last drop. He only stopped once to take a gasp of air, chugging the sweet red elixir until the bottle was completely dry.

He sighed with relief as the ravenous voices in his head quieted. Almost immediately, his wounds began healing. The bruises on his skin disappeared, and the gouges and cuts in his flesh vanished without a trace. His full senses returned to him, his eyes grew sharper and his ears twitched as he took in every bit of sound around him.

Kai helped him to his feet. “I’m guessing you're feeling a bit better now?” he asked, taking in Lloyd’s now completely healthy looking appearance.

Lloyd grinned, fangs on full display. “I’m feeling wonderful now, thank you.”

“Woah!” Jay ran over and leaned in close to Lloyd’s face. “Those are so cool!”

“My… fangs? Really?”

Jay bounced up and down on the spot, barely able to contain his excitement. “Totally! Sorry about how I acted earlier, I was just surprised, but this is so awesome! You're a real vampire!”

“O-Oh…” Lloyd blushed, and looked down at his feet. “Thank you-“

“I have so many questions! Okay, one, do you burn in the sun, or is it just like irritating? Oh, and is the garlic thing real? No wait, when you turn into a bat where do your clothes go- hey!” Jay grunted as the dark-haired woman pushed him aside.

“Don’t mind him, he’s always like this about everything,” she said, “I’m Nya by the way, it’s nice to meet you.”

Jay ran over to Zane, and pulled a notebook and pencil out from his shoulder bag. He ducked under Nya’s arm and sat down on the rim of the coffin. “Okay, as I was saying-“

“Sunlight burns us, but we don’t burst into flames or anything, garlic makes my tongue swell up, and…” Lloyd pondered the last question for a moment, “y’know, I’ve never actually thought about that… I assumed they just disappeared… then reappeared.”

Jay paused his furious scribbling of notes. “What? But how does that work?”

Lloyd shrugged. “Don’t ask me! Wait, let me show you something…”

He stretched out his arm, and smiled as a green flicker of light danced across the palm of his hand. For a moment he had feared his powers hadn’t returned yet, but the sparkling flicker growing into an orb of bright light in his hand assured him otherwise.

Jay, as well as Nya, Zane and Kai watched, mesmerized. Lloyd shaped the orb into a diamond, then into a flower, and then in a burst of light dissolved it into a shower of tiny sparkles that floated through the air.

“This… doesn’t make any sense,” Zane said, gazing up at the ceiling that was now lit up with hundreds of star-like lights.

“Does it have to?” Nya replied, smiling as a light landed on her nose. She sneezed, and it drifted until it landed on her finger. “This is so beautiful…”

Lloyd spun around the room, letting out more bursts of sparkles each time the lights dimmed out. He abruptly came to a stop behind the coffin. “Why… is there a sleeping man here?”

They all looked at each other. “Shit, I forgot Cole was still passed out,” Kai said, rushing over to go shake Cole awake. “Cole! Wake up buddy!”

“Hnnngh… huh?” Cole blinked wearily. He sat up, and rubbed his eyes. “Whuhhappened?”

Kai swallowed stiffly. “Don’t freak out, but-“

Lloyd blew a tiny sparkle to Cole. “Greetings sleepy human!” he giggled.

Cole’s face turned pale as he caught sight of Lloyd’s fangs. ”Y… You… your a… vamp-“

“Yes, I am a vampire!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!”

[the-devil-herself]

Never Enough

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1 DESCRIPTION: Certain mates of Jotuns receive soulmate marks on their bodies. What happens when Loki’s mark is found on a girl with immense power? RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: Also available on AO3! Please give me some feedback if you can, I love the inspiration it gives me. I’m going to post the first 22 chapters of this story over the next few days, and, hopefully, I will find my muse to write more.

2011

"We need to get closer!"

"Are you crazy?" Dr. Selvig screamed at his colleague, Jane Foster. "We could die!"

Jane simply ignored him as she raced the car closer to the storm that seemed about to reach the ground, almost like a tornado. I sat in the back of the car by Darcy, her intern. However, Darcy did not look as nervous as I felt about this. I held on tightly to whatever I could find that was sturdy enough to keep me somewhat stable as the van started to shake violently. We were approaching the storm. Closing my eyes, I prayed that I would get through this incident unscathed or else my parents would kill my Aunt Jane, and even though we were close to possibly dying, I enjoyed visiting her for the summers.

Darcy looked at me with wide eyes. "Dana, hold on!" she screamed.

Suddenly, our van stopped with a big thunk, and it felt as if we had hit another car. Come to find out, what we hit was no car at all, but a god.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How old are you?" the strange man asked me. It turned out his name was Thor, and he was from a different planet. Thor had just finished explaining his world to my aunt, and she quickly fell asleep in her lawn-chair after such a long day, leaving the god and I to ourselves.

I looked up from Jane's journal where she had just scribbled as much as her fingers could muster to relate all of what Thor had told us. "Thirteen," I replied.

"So young!" Thor exclaimed with a widespread grin on his face. "What reason do you have for being on this scientific journey?"

I laughed at his funny but welcoming demeanor. He made me extremely comfortable around him even though I had just met him a few days earlier. "I actually have no reason to be here," I teased. "Jane is my aunt, and I like to come out here to visit her when I can since she lives so far away."

He nodded in understanding before saying, "Your parents let you come all the way out here just to visit your aunt?"

"They know I like space stuff so they thought it would be good for me to learn from my aunt since she is an expert in space."

"An expert in space?" he laughed.

"Yeah," I responded, giggling at my own stupid explanation of her job. "There's a fancy name for what she does, but I don't remember it."

Thor smiled at me as I went back to studying the journal. The wind was picking up, and both Thor and Jane were covered with blankets. Even though New Mexico is known for its simmering hot weather, the nights can get chilly. "Do you not need a blanket?" Thor asked, concerned.

"No," I said while shaking my head. "I don't get cold that easily. I'm fine right now."

Thor continued looking at me with something different in his eyes. He almost looked sad, but I couldn't understand why. I know he was just banished from his home and his family and friends, but it seemed he was remembering or thinking back on something. I closed the journal, setting it beside me on my lawn-chair, looking pointedly at him to which he smiled at.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, "it's just... you remind me of someone I know." The sad look in his eyes returned.

"Who?"

One side of his mouth lifted into a small smile. "My brother," he answered. "You're both so filled with curiosity and the need to learn. He also did not mind the cold."

I shifted closer and put my small hand on his shoulder like I've seen Dr. Selvig do to Jane when she was upset. Thor turned his head to me and chuckled. "What was he like?" I asked. It was a random question that just popped out of my mouth before I could think. I just felt an urge to know more about this other god.

Thor sighed. "Well he's a prankster for starters," he began while he rolled his eyes, making me giggle, "but a master of magic."

"Magic?" I cried out.

"Yes! Magic! He could shift into any form, move things with his mind, create illusions, and all other kinds of magical things." Thor continued to describe his intelligent, raven-haired brother to me, sharing funny stories of him shape-shifting into weird animals to prank his family. By the end of our talk, I could see mentions of his brother brought a smile to his face. He adored his brother. However, before I fell asleep in my chair, I saw a few tears roll down his cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~

Screams became muffled in my head as I tried to process the ruin and destruction before me. A large metal creature came towards us, blasting fire from where its face was supposed to be. Jane and Selvig were helping survivors onto trucks and cars, Darcy was supporting an injured man to a nearby truck, and Thor's space friends were trying to attack the creature, but they were failing. The creature continued to come closer before Thor stepped into the monster's sight and dropped a heavy shield to the ground, making a resounding bang throughout the town that had suddenly fallen silent.

I could see Thor walking towards it, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. I could only make out the word "brother." Was this his brother? The one I reminded him of? It couldn't be. The way he described their relationship, they seemed to be as thick as thieves.

The world fell deadly silent for a moment before Thor was thrown back a few yards from a hard hit by the giant creature. He fell to the ground, and blood came from everywhere. He was dying.

We all ran to him. Selvig tried to yell at me to stay back, but I didn't listen. I knelt down by the man who had changed Earth as we knew it and brought laughter to our little trailer. Tears were flowing from my eyes, and I could hear Jane sobbing right next to me. Then, I stood up and turned around to face the monster who had killed my friend. I glared straight at him and clutching my fists together, but my tears betrayed my strong attitude.

The metal giant just simply stared back. It did not move for a few minutes, only staring back at me. I didn't back down either but kept looking through the eye holes- almost as if I could see him. The intelligent, raven-haired god. Loki.

Before I knew it, a loud crack of thunder came from behind me. I turned to see Thor up and healthy, in a weird-looking costume that matched his friends, with his hammer in his hand that he talked so much about. Thor flew right at the monster and destroyed it. He then carried Jane to the site where we first met him, while Selvig drove Darcy and me. He said goodbye to them all before kissing Jane. Then, he turned to look at me. "This is not him, something must have happened," he said determinedly, as if he was convincing himself and not me.

After Thor and his friends were brought back up into the sky, I felt a burning sensation on my wrist. I finally rolled up my sleeves to reveal a dark pattern carved into my skin. I pulled up my other sleeve to see if I had been hurt there too, but there was nothing. I wasn't hurt anywhere else. I only had this... mark. A mark that I couldn't figure out for years. Why did it appear? What did it mean? Afraid to worry Jane over me potentially being hurt, I pulled my sleeve back down and kept the mark a secret for years. Until I finally met him.

[nxctiphany]

HOW I RUN MY BLOG.

SPEED:    It really depends. Sometimes I’m incredibly fast and others I’m very slow. I’ve been faster lately, but that’s only because I’m ‘on-loan’ to a different department at my job currently which gives me more time to write at work (oops) and because I’ve been struggling to work up the motivation to sew over the past few months. Typically, I’m not as speedy as I have been. I tend to queue things (and I run my bigger multi exclusively on a queue, I’m working on getting this blog mainly queue-based as well) so I don’t get overwhelmed or so I don’t reply to things too quickly. 

REPLIES:   I try my best to always respond to what’s given and add something to move the thread along/to give someone something to reply to. Sometimes I worry I don’t give enough for people to respond to and then I end up just adding more. I write a lot. It does make me nervous at times (pretty much always), but I swore I would stop apologizing for the length of my replies (because honestly, if you’re following me you can clearly see how much I write on average and should be prepared for it), so I won’t. I just get excited/into what I’m doing and that’s why I end up writing a lot. Writing a lot is just me having fun/enjoying myself because I just don’t shut up haha. I don’t expect anyone to match my length. I’m really and truly not bothered if you don’t. I’m not trying to compete or anything, I’m just having fun in my little corner. 

STARTERS:    I do starter calls every so often! I’ve written a few open starters here and there, as well. I try to like starter/inbox calls when I see them on the dash unless I have a decent number of drafts at the time I see them. I do get nervous specifying muses, but I’m trying to get better at it. I’m also okay with writing starters as well. It really doesn’t bother me if someone comes to plot with me and then asks me to make the starter if it makes sense in the context of the plot. You did me the favor of reaching out, so I don’t mind making the starter. I go get a bit bummed  when I write starters for people that go unanswered (because I am a slow writer even if I reply quickly - some days it can take me hours to write a single starter so it’s sad when it goes to waste). I won’t be offended if I write you a starter that doesn’t work and you want me to change something. 

INBOX:    I love doing memes or random asks! I feel like they make for interesting interactions! I love it when people turn meme replies into threads (so never be afraid to)! I know ask formatting works again, but I like answering asks in posts since I feel like it makes it easier for people to respond to them and turn them into threads that way. So, yeah, never be afraid to send in memes or asks! If a meme is still on my blog, you’re free to send it in any point in time. I try to send memes to those I’m interacting with as well! I’d really like to get better about sending them to people I don’t actively write with, but my anxiety is really bad I won’t lie. 

SELECTIVITY:   I don’t really know? If someone seems nice, I’ll follow them? I don’t care if I know the muse or fandom, but if you seem nice and I like your writing, I’ll probably follow you? To be honest, I’m a very, very nervous person so I do struggle to follow people first. I might see someone interacting with a mutual several times before I work up the nerve to follow them. I’m very sorry, my anxiety has always been bad, but it’s gotten worse these past few months. Sometimes I’m able to go on random follow sprees others I just stare longingly at blogs I want to follow haha (heck, this often applies to mutuals with more than one blog where I’m afraid I’ll annoy you if I follow you on your other blogs and that is dumb, I know, and I’m sorry). 

WISHLIST: I have one here, but it’s old and need to be updated. I also really enjoy the Otome game style thing I have going on with a few of you that’s described here. I’m almost always open to AUs or plotting or just writing a partner’s wishlist item out with them. Odds are if there’s something you want to write, I’m willing to give it a shot! 

HONEST NOTE:     I’ve stressed this so much already, but I am a very nervous person and I have a very bad anxiety. Some days it’s worse than others, but I try my best! It can take me a long time to get truly comfortable around someone OOC (but I do prefer to speak to my partners ooc as we’re writing because it makes a bit less nervous). I know I can come off as really stiff and formal and I try not to, I’m just nervous and I don’t want to be a bother but I’d like to think I’m a pretty friendly person! I also have ADHD so I’m sometimes afraid I can be a bit much for people at times and other times I need a break (I cannot for the life of me talk ooc and write replies at the same time I am so sorry). I tend to use exclamation points a lot ooc (because I’m afraid I don’t someone will think I’m upset or something) until I’m comfy enough to just cease using punctuation ooc unless needed haha (also why I almost always use haha at fist instead of things like lol because I’m nervous, I’ll use chatspeak ooc when I’m comfy, as well). I’m always so very grateful for the people who are willing to write with me or reach out to me and everyone on my dash. I love seeing all of you around and reading about your muses even if we don’t interact. All of you are fantastic, and I hope you know you’re great!    

TAGGED BY: No one! I stole it :3!  

[shinrasfirst]

HOW I RUN MY BLOG.

SPEED: Not fast. Sometimes I get really excited, then I’ll be fast with 2-3 things. Most of the time it takes me days, weeks, and sometimes months to write things. My reply speed is no indicator of how thrilled I am about a thread/verse, it’s just sometimes hard for me to be focused enough to write up a reply. I don’t want to half-ass things so I have to be in the right mindset to reply, and also have the time to do so. I work Fri-Sun + holidays, sometimes Thursdays as well, so during those days I am usually not able to write fully replies at all. I beseech everyone who starts threads with me to keep that in mind, so nobody ends up feeling like I’m abandoning them. I’m just a snail sometimes. 🐌 That being said, I’m usually online at least once a day, and on discord pretty much 24/7. So OOC replies are pretty fast from me normally.

REPLIES: I hate the tumblr app, so unless I am on my computer, I won’t be posting replies. I might reply to IMs on mobile but I sometimes miss them, meaning they’ll be a few hours late. I want to give you good replies, and they’re usually longer, which all factors into my relatively low reply speed.

STARTERS: I almost never do starter calls because I prefer plotting with people - but sometimes I post plotting calls that people can like if they want interactions with my muses. I do try to reply to welcoming starters, but if I don’t, I probably missed them so let me know. I never do welcoming starters myself because they often are ignored and I generally don’t like creating random convos so much. I will love you if you write a starter for us, but I try to be fair about it and make it 50/50 (more or less) in terms of who writes the starters, because they ARE a lot of work.

INBOX: My inbox is always open for questions or memes. Anon as well. I will only turn anon off should someone abuse it, but that’s only happened to me twice on tumblr. I don’t mind getting older memes either! Feel free to send in stuff whenever :) If you ask me something OFF anon in an ask, I will assume that you are theoretically okay with me replying publicly. If this is NOT the case, please tell me so in your message and I will keep it private (or reply publicly but blank out your URL)!!

SELECTIVITY: I’m selective with who I follow. After that there are a lot less hurdles and walls with me. If I follow you I am interested in writing with you. I am almost always open for discussing ships, I almost never have solid NOTPs.

WISHLIST: I have a wishlist, you can find it under this tag.

HONEST NOTE: I’m always trying my best but I am only human, and humans sometimes fuck up. You can always come talk to me and I promise you I will meet you with honesty and an open mind. There’s no need to be afraid of me or nervous about talking to me. The worst thing that can happen to you is that you e.g. request something and I politely turn it down. I only bite when asked to, and sometimes on full moons.

TAGGED BY: stole it from the dash!

TAGGING: you.

[covenbled1]

Do you focus more on talking role play first or talking casually about anything first?Does knowing the other mun make writing threads easier or harder?Do random messages out of the blue upset you at all?Do random asks out of the blue upset you at all?Do random memes out of the blue upset you?Should people be nervous to send you things at all?

Anxious Munday Meme!

Do you focus more on talking role play first or talking casually about anything first?

That’s complicated, it can go both ways. If you come to me and act like we’ve been pals for ages it does help me with replying / answering things sometimes and then there are people I’ve never spoken to but we’d started roleplaying and then the conversation flowed so much more naturally. Preferably, talking casually first helps me.

Does knowing the other mun make writing threads easier or harder?

It makes it much easier, knowing the mun helps me a lot with my anxiety about my writing being trash.

Do random messages out of the blue upset you at all?

If we’re mutuals random messages never upset me. I may be bad at keeping a conversation going at first but the more we get to know each other the easier it is. 

Do random asks out of the blue upset you at all?

No, never. Honestly, if someone was interested enough in my muse to send random asks I’d be more than happy to answer them.

Do random memes out of the blue upset you?

NEVER. Memes are a good way for us to start roleplaying, considering I rarely post starter calls.  

Should people be nervous to send you things at all?

N O. Never be afraid to send me things, I may be slow but I’m always excited to write with new people and old followers alike. 

[jaydier-blog1]

A Guide to Writing PTSD & Psychosis

Something I’ve noticed over my (too many) years on Tumblr is that sometimes, first-hand accounts of mental illness can be hard to come by. It’s totally understandable, and it took me a long time to get to this point, but it can put writers in a bit of a bind who aren’t satisfied with only the DSM-5 and Wikipedia to accurately portray their muse(s)’s MI. That being said, hi, my name is Holo, and I’ve been living with PTSD and comorbid psychosis for almost a decade at this point, and I’d like to share some of my experiences.

This is by no means a complete or exhaustive guide. The thing about brains is that apparently they’re complicated, and that means that everyone develops MI differently. While there are broad strokes that are generally consistent across diagnoses (and said broad strokes are typically what make up the ‘criteria’ of any MI), not everyone will have every single symptom, and not everyone will display the symptoms they do have the same way. I really do recommend using these sorts of guides as guides to writing MI, rather than actual rules.

I’mma start with some basic definitions. PTSD is post-traumatic stress disorder, which is a disorder that develops after witnessing or experiencing a traumatic event. Not everyone who goes through trauma will develop PTSD, and I believe the actual statistic is somewhere between 20-30% (double-check my factcheck before you quote me on that, please). Comorbid mental illnesses (or comorbidities) are MIs that occur with or alongside the ‘primary’ illness, usually because of said ‘primary’ MI. For example, my psychosis is comorbid with my PTSD; it is because of my PTSD that I have psychosis.

Psychosis itself is more of a broad term than a specific diagnosis, and it will generally assume one (or more) of three forms: 1) delusions, 2) hallucinations, and 3) disordered thoughts. I personally struggle mostly with delusions and hallucinations, and I don’t particularly experience disordered thoughts, so that’s what I’ll mostly focus on.

Before I move on, though, I want to share something that an old psychologist of mine told me and that I’ve never really forgotten: it’s possible, and even common, to experience and exhibit occasional symptoms of MI without ever actually having that particular mental illness. A random delusion or general panic attack does not mean your character has psychosis or PTSD. Again, brains are complicated, and what defines a MI diagnosis is the consistent, pervasive presence of multiple symptoms that interfere with the patient’s day-to-day life. You can have obsessive-compulsive tendencies without having OCD. You can be anxious without having anxiety. You can be depressed without having depression.

Another thing is that a lot of MI have symptoms that overlap (which is why comorbid MIs are, again, pretty common). My PTSD comorbidities include depression, anxiety, claustrophobia, and psychosis. In fact, when I first started displaying my PTSD symptoms, I was diagnosed with depression because that was the comorbidity that showed up most prominently at the time, and it took several more years before my doctors and I realized that my depression was a symptom and not the full illness.

Alright! Let’s see if I can break down things into more manageable chunks to talk about.

PTSD

PTSD symptoms are wide, varied, and incredibly subjective from person to person. In my experience, this variance starts with what exactly was the trauma that the PTSD is originating from. Someone who was in a war, for example, will have different triggers and experience different symptoms than someone who was abused (and even then, someone who was verbally abused will once again have a vastly different PTSD experience than someone who was physically abused). Figuring out what your character’s trauma was that caused them to develop PTSD is your vital starting point.

In my experience, PTSD tends to develop slowly. One of the things doctors look for when diagnosing PTSD is that patients are still suffering after six months have passed from the initial trauma. After my initial trauma, I thought I was fine. I was asymptomatic, until months later when symptoms started to creep up on me (and as I mentioned earlier, at first it appeared primarily as depression, and I didn’t even connect it to my trauma at the time).

I experience hypervigilence with my PTSD. I am always aware of where I am, looking for possible exits and escape routes. I get nervous and anxious if I feel trapped in a room or area. (I tried going to a corn maze once. It was a bad time.) I also have an exaggerated startle response. If someone sneaks up on me, accidentally or otherwise, I’m going to react much more dramatically than other people. It’ll frighten me a lot more than it would someone whose startle response isn’t so pronounced. At worst, I’ve had experiences where someone sneaking up on me and startling me as a joke sent me into a full panicked meltdown. (I’d been having a rough time before that, but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.)

To which I’ll segue rather smoothly into things building up! I find it really difficult to ‘destress’ and relax if I have a lot of small triggers and uncomfortable situations pile up on me within a short period of time or without respite, to the point where something rather minor can set off an entire chain reaction and end up with what looks like an extreme overreaction.

Panic attacks can look different from person to person, or even day to day. Sometimes, panic attacks show up for me as in inability to focus, irritation and snapping angrily at every little thing while my hands shake to the point where it’s difficult for me to hold things. Other times, it’ll look like a screaming, crying mess, huddled up in a ball in a corner on the floor. How people express panic attacks varies greatly, and no one way is an ‘incorrect’ portrayal of your character’s panic attacks.

Flashback episodes are an easy, prominent way to showcase PTSD in media, and so it’s something that a lot of people are familiar with, but in a very narrow way. While it’s possible for someone experiencing a flashback to completely lose touch with their current reality and experience an exact repeat of their traumatic incident, that’s rarely the case. More often than not, my flashback episodes feel more like an overlay, where both reality and my flashback are happening at the same time. Innocuous things will suddenly seem much more ominous and dangerous, I’ll mistake the people around me for those who were present during my traumatic incident, and I tend to experience hallucinations (which I will go into more detail about later on). Someone in a flashback episode could even experience age regression, usually back to the age they were during the initial trauma. Flashback episodes and how someone experiences them are extremely personal, and I strongly suggest doing more research on the topic to find more varied accounts, and piece together how your character would respond to these events, if they even experience flashback episodes at all.

I’d like to take this next moment here to mention triggers. Triggers are highly subjective, depending on the person and their trauma, and they can often be obscure and strange. A particular scent or a familiar name could easily be enough to make someone extremely uncomfortable. Sometimes, triggers are only marginally connected to the initial trauma, or not seemingly connected at all. Conversely, something that might seem like an obvious trigger might not be a trigger at all! Brains are fucking weird like that. Also, a very common experience with PTSD (or any MI with triggers) is that day-to-day life is disrupted in favour of specifically avoiding known triggers. Crowded places will trigger my aforementioned claustrophobia, and so I will often avoid social outings, to the detriment of my friendships and familial relationships. (Which is a good example of triggers having nothing to do with trauma, actually. I was alone when my initial trauma happened. Why the hell am I afraid of crowds. @brain explain this) And not only this, but some days a trigger might not affect me at all! Triggers are so, so subjective. They’re a minefield of possibilities and dangers that can shift on what sometimes feels like a daily basis. It can be a real headache to deal with. Taking the time to get into the mind of your character and deciding what triggers them and what doesn’t it another important part of defining how you write their struggle with PTSD.

Psychosis

Since it’s what I have the least experience with, I’ll talk about disordering thinking first. Disordered thinking is pretty much exactly what it says on the tin, and people experiencing disordered thoughts can appear distressed, confused, and have issues articulating their emotions, even to the point of not being able to form full sentences or fully acknowledge questions being asked of them. I strongly suggest doing more research on this topic outside of this post if you think it might apply to your character.

Delusions are, again, fairly self explanatory. Delusions are probably my most prominent version of psychosis that I struggle with on a daily basis. Personally, the most frustrating part of delusions is that I’m well aware that they aren’t real, but I can’t shut them off anyway. In general, my most common delusions is that Person X is out to get me/is trying to sabotage me. Logically, I know that this is ridiculous, but I still have the anxiety and panic that that situation would induce. While I’m sure there are psychotic people out there who cannot distinguish their delusions from reality, and that is absolutely a valid way to portray it, I have personally never met someone like that. It seems to be a lot more common that delusional psychotics are aware that their delusions are not real, and yet we are still forced to change our patterns of behaviour to accommodate for that delusion as if it were real regardless.

Hallucinations are broad and come in way too many forms. Media likes to portray hallucinations as full-bodied apparitions that are indistinguishable from real life, and while that can be correct, I find that I rarely experience those. Most of my hallucinations are tactile hallucinations. These are hallucinations where I feel as though I’m being touched by someone or something, usually in a negative way (these hallucinations can even trigger or be triggered by a flashback episode). There are also auditory hallucinations, visual hallucinations, and even olfactory and gustatory hallucinations, although I’ve never had experiences with the latter two. Often, I find I can fairly quickly differentiate hallucinations from reality, just by doing a quick check around me. If someone is not touching me, the feeling of a hand on my arm is a hallucination. Visual hallucinations (of other people) tend to not interact with the rest of the world the same way a real person would. Auditory hallucinations do not have an obvious source, and those around me won’t react to the noise. And, of course, the usual disclaimer of everyone who experiences hallucinations experience them differently applies here too, this is just my personal experience with hallucinations.

In conclusion

PTSD and psychosis are both broad MIs with a lot of complexity that vary from person to person. I fully encourage you to continue your research into these MIs and discover what is right for your character(s). I’d like to reiterate that this post is non-exhaustive and has focused on my personal experiences with my day-to-day life as someone who has these MIs. This post is absolutely available for you to reblog if you’d like, and my ask box is right here if you have any questions or discussions you’d like to direct to someone willing to be a first-person source on these topics.

I hope I’ve helped! Now go forth and write! :D

[theunsweetenedtruth]

Sneak Peak...Keeping Faith

AN: Happy Christmas Eve!! I’m stuck at work praying they’ll let me leave early but I finally decided to post this after MONTHS. This is a sneak peak of my next story once both Promises and The Adored One are mostly done (I will still take requests and one shots for both if you submit them). I’m so nervous about this because this story has been a rolling dream for YEARS. It’s a combination of Beyond the Lights and Greenleaf (I know there was someone writing a Beyond the Lights story so I hope I’m not stepping on any toes, though this is VERY loosely based). If you’ve seen the shows, yay! If not, then you’ll absolutely be fine. In Greenleaf, one of the daughters, Faith commits suicide, which starts off the entire series. In my story, she’s still alive for now. This is a Sam Wilson x OC. I thought about making it an Erik story but it would totally change the way things happen. This story is really dark. It has a lot of triggers and warnings that I know I’m going to struggle with but I want to tell it because it’s been in my head for YEARS. I’m tagging both of my tag lists for Promises and The Adored One, as well as my permanent tag list. Please let me know if you want to be on my permanent list or if you want to be tagged for this story too. AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.

She was bent over the toilet-again. Vomit came from her and as she heaved, a random thought came to her: what could I possibly be throwing up if I haven’t eaten anything? She continued to gag for a few moments more, nothing coming out at this point but rage and self-depreciation and she felt lost under a current of self-loathing. She was to be blamed for her predicament.

 Soon, the heaving subsided and she was able to stand to her feet, flush and go to the sink. Dark, sunken eyes stared back at her from the mirror. She didn’t look in the mirror too often, afraid of what she’d become and seeing the physical manifestation of it. Moving from her eyes, she realized her lip was busted and bruises littered around her neck and chest. They would have to pack on the makeup tonight to cover them up.

She took a towel from underneath the cabinet—stark white like the rest of the room—wet it, and began tending to the bleeding lip. There was a slight sting but she didn’t wince; this was nothing compared to what she’d been through the past years, or the past hour. There was a knock on the bathroom door that echoed through the cavernous room and startled her. Her hands began to shake, her pulse raced, and she struggled to get words out.

________________________________________________________

AN: let me know what you think 🙂I'm so nervous to post this the title is a working one. First part will go up once Promises and The Adored One are over. 

Permanent Tags: @wakanda-inspired @bakarisangel @theblulife @im5ftbutmythroat66 @fonville-designs @sarcastic-sunshines @semianta 

The Adored One: @ashanti-notthesinger @iamrheaspeaks @tntnv @allhailnjadaka @sithlordslut @forbeautyandlife @wawakanda-btch @myaw731 @everybodylovesmormon @90sinspiredgirl @dramaqueenamby @onyxvixen-writer @almostpurelysmut @killmongersgurl @champagnesugamama @fitfineandstayingalive @airis-paris14 @mufasathatniggatho @sisterwifeudaku @bidibidibombaclaat

Promises: @marvelpotterlove @writingmarvellousimagines @laketaj24 @greennightspider @muse-of-mbaku @another-imaginesblog @princesskillmonger @panthergoddessbast @raysunshine78 @katasstrophey @shyblackgirl @shesakillerkween

[xmalfoydracox]

HOW THE MUN RUNS THEIR BLOG .

SPEED. 

The speed of the replies differs depending on how my muse mood is, plus it depends on how my mood is and what I am doing outside of roleplay. My speed honestly varies tho, one day I can be fast and other days I can be slow.

REPLIES. 

Honestly, I will always try to post the replies right after I do them, however sometimes they will go into queue so I can catch up on other replies. I will never purposely drop a thread without talking to you first, if I don’t reply within a couple weeks notice then feel free to ask me about them since sometimes replies just get lost and that completely sucks. I don’t mind if you drop a thread cause you don’t have muse for it any longer, all I ask is that you let me know before hand so I don’t worry since I can be quite a nervous mess at times. Another thing is I don’t mind the length of the thread as long as I have something to work with, if I can’t work with it then most likely than none its not gonna happen cause my muse won’t know how to respond nor would I so it would just be sitting there til we drop it. Sometimes I’ll reply with an icon or gif and other times I’ll reply without them, I aint picky and I don’t care if they are used or not in replies. Basically you do whatever you are comfortable with and I shall do whatever I am comfortable with - as long as we’re both happy and comfortable that is all that matters. P.S if you have any triggers tell me and I’ll tag them - otherwise I may forget to tag them - not to be rude, its just I get distracted. 

STARTERS. 

I am always down for random starters thrown my way, to be honest. If you want a starter then just come to me and ask for one, I have no problem with it. My open starters and starter calls are always up for the taking so don’t be afraid to jump on it. If I owe you a starter then I’ll get it to you as soon as I can, but please if we discuss a thread then clarify whose making the starter or it possibly won’t happen til its asked about. All starters will be random unless plotted out. 

INBOX. 

 My Inbox is open to pretty much anything but hate, however I can’t promise everything will get answered all the time depending on how my muse feels. And if it does get answer - I don’t know if it will be directly turned into a thread but you can reply to it. If you do turn it into a thread then please make it on separate post - do not reblog it from the ask - its a clutter mess I do not want.

SELECTIVITY. 

Right, I’ve stated on my blog that this blog is Private and Selective. However most of the times I’m willing to roleplay with almost anyone depending the mood, so I’d say semi selective since I try to give everyone a chance. Don’t be afraid to approach me and talk to me ooc, you can always ask for a thread if I am following you or send me in any meme you wish. :) Just a heads up, an shy awkward mun runs this blog.

WISHLIST.

Hmm, I really don’t know right now since nothing comes to mind. But I do have a tag meant for my wanted wishlist so if you really wanna know, take a look through it, I suppose. 

TAGGED BY :  pureblooded-outcast TAGGING : Anyone who wants to do this. //Yes, I know I am slow at doing this but its finally done so lol x’D

[fmdnahee-blog]

hello *samuel voice* i go by the name of jay, i’m seventeen, and my timezone is pst !! this is my first muse here at famed and i’m super duper excited and a bit nervous to start rping with everyone !! pls bear with me as it has been quite some time since i was in a rp and nahee is still a pretty new muse ;; anyway here is nahee’s profile & her bio & a plot page is coming soon (i was gonna wait to post until i finished by plots page but i got too excited oops i’ll make post when it’s finished) !! and if you don’t wanna read her bio (i understand) that’s ok bc i’m gonna do a lil tldr under this post (tw for mentions of bullying) !! feel free to like this if you’re interested in plotting w/ my bby <3

god i hope this all makes sense

nahee was born to a single mother in incheon, south korea 

she’s an only child

her father died months before she was born & this made her mom work 38843783x harder than she had before not just so she could support nahee but also so she could distract herself from the pain of losing her soulmate

nahee never really got the attention she felt that she deserved from her mother

tried to get her mother’s attention by being a straight a student

but that didn’t work

joined her school’s choir when she was super duper young

her mom didn’t like her doing choir

her choir team was super successful 

so successful that they got to go backstage of a knight concert and talk to them about being a professional singer !!!

that’s when nahee knew she wanted to be an idol

her mom didn’t rly approve of that either

this sparked a change in nahee’s personality

she no longer was getting straight a’s, she decided to become a bad kid instead

she was bullying kids, ditching class, stealing, going out super late doing illegal activities, etc

she had some fun during this phase of her life but she didn’t rly like bullying kids and she didn’t truly fit in this group of people

the school threatened to kick her out and her mom was like “oh hell naw,,,ik i hated the idea of you being a singer or whatever but that was the only time you seemed to be yourself so pack ur bags i’m sending u to live with ur aunt and uncle in seoul so u can go to a performing arts school”

she loooooved the performing arts school she got sent to and regained her love for singing

the performing arts school gave her the confidence to audition for bc entertainment (spoiler: she made it)

she trained from late 2012 - until the end of 2015 which was when wish debuted

but when wish debuted her iljin past was brought up and despite bc saying all accusations were false, ppl still hated her

and the media became obsessed with making her seem like a bitch (they still are lw)

this rly impacted her and killed her self esteem (although she tries her best not to show this side of her)

bUT SHE LOVES THE IDOL LIFE !!!! AND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FOREVER SHE FEELS LIKE SHE BELONGS SOMEWHERE BC SHES DOING SOMETHING SHE LOVES 

she’s super easy to befriend, very very very (no pun intended) determined to become the most successful idol ever she can be, extremely empathetic for those around her bc she feels so bad about the things she did when she was younger, & just loves to have fun !!!

on variety shows, she’s known as the “4D member” bc she’s so blunt and random and just says whatever is on her mind (kinda exaggerates that for screen time but ya know it be like that sometimes)

there’s still traces of her rebellious days in her

she sometimes has too much fun when wish don’t have promotions (lw a bad influence)

but she doesn’t bully people anymore thats a no no

on the other hand, she’s wayyyyyy too blunt which often leads her to be hypocritical (especially towards her group members), her temper is pretty bad (she never admits to being wrong, she'd rather start an argument), & she doesn’t rly like getting close to people bc she’s afraid she’s gonna hurt them like she hurt the ppl in her past (this usually leads to her leading someone on and then abruptly cutting them off and hurting them anyway)

she may seem like a bitch in certain situations but she’s rly not :(( she’s just rly regretful and scared of hurting other ppl 

like if she hurts your feelings there’s a pretty good chance she’ll apologize the next day

send her ur love pls

[beyondthetemples]

Prompts found here: https://sphinxmemesmusings.tumblr.com/post/616126907084308480/random-headcanon-meme

I really liked these and wanted to answer them all, so I couldn’t help myself! I had to fill it all out.

⍤ : What does your muse’s voice sound like? Is it light? High pitched? Scratchy? Deep?

Dove's voice is very light. It's a bit of a higher voice, but not to the point of being piercing or squeaky. (At least not until she's really nervous.) It's usually a pretty low volume too, and a little breathy. She speaks with a lot of disfluencies, halting and "mazing" and searching for The Right Words. (Ever notice all the ellipses in Dove's dialogue? She really does pause and think That Often.) Her voice is generally calm and mild, but of course it raises and sharpens when she's afraid. She's very "quiet" tonally, too-- if you ever get Dove to speak sharply or fiercely, something is very wrong.

✍ : What is your muse’s handwriting like? Is it neat? Sloppy? Fancy? Pretty neat, kind of rounded and smallish and contained.

☕ : Does your muse prefer coffee or tea? Very much tea, Dove doesn't even like the smell of coffee.

⌚ : Is your muse good with keeping on schedule for meetings, appointments, or events, or are they always late? Or, are they always a bit early? Depending on how important it is, she'd normally be on time, but for very important things, or unfamiliar situations where she'd like to adjust to the new scenario/scenery first, she'll arrive early and scope it out before the Important Thing.

♿ : Has your muse had any injuries in the past? Ohhh yeah. She's a superhero; she normally stays out of the physical fray until it's absolutely unavoidable (and if she's physically engaged she normally shields herself and tries to put herself at a distance as soon as possible), but sometimes things fall or you don't see a kick coming from behind or something, and injuries happen.

Very big, damaging injuries are rare, though. The first was when she was wandering the streets and attacked by a dog. The second happened during the moment of DDD when she surrenders fully to her demonic half, and the blaze of the energies entering her physical form left four horizontal scars on her chest, stacked two-by-two, and a big blaze of scarflesh along her spine, from between her shoulderblades down to her tailbone. It cauterized the wounds instantly, but it hurt like holy hell, and the scars she has now are rather sensitive to both magic and physical touch.

☺ : What is your muse’s smile like? Do they smile often? Normally rather small and sweet! She has a gentle, even smile. It's not terribly hard to provoke; the smallest kindness could elicit the smallest smile. It shows up especially often when she's around the people she loves. Every now and again, especially when something catches her off-guard and she's either amused or pleasantly surprised, she'll smile more widely or laugh a few notes, but even joy is an emotion she has to control.

⚡ : How does your muse feel about storms? Are they afraid of them, or do they calm them? She likes rainstorms if there's not thunder! A good, heavy rain is calming, until it starts thundering, and then she tries to avoid it as much as possible.

⚠ : How does your muse react to possibly dangerous situations? Do they face them head-on, or do they plan out their actions first? A little of both, actually! You can face your problems head-on BY planning them out, and that's what Dove does. She struggles to think on her feet, especially in a dangerous mission situation. She works best when she can channel her energy into focusing and controlling her powers, rather than trying to plan. So usually she goes in with a strategy of what to do-- truthfully that strategy usually involves avoiding physical conflict, keeping her distance, and staying out of reach and attacking telepathically from a distance. It keeps her safer and keeps the people AROUND her safer, because attacking someone else's mind with finely-tuned precision takes a LOT of focus and concentration and care.

☃ : What is your muse’s favorite season? What about their least favorite season, if they have one? I'm honestly not sure! Azarath hardly had seasons (in my headcanon'd version of their climate, anyways), unless you want to count "pre-Raven's birth" and "after Raven's birth", because the skies themselves changed, so I imagined the weather changed a bit too. But even then, Dove is younger than Raven and would have only experienced the after-Raven's-birth "season".

As for Earth: I headcanon Jump City's weather to be more like San Francisco. (Remember all that fog in Aftershock pt. II? Most places don't get fog that thick.) Dove romanticizes snow, but though the cold doesn't hurt her as easily as it'd hurt a human, she feels chilled pretty easily and would only want to actually BE in the snow in small, heavily-covered increments. She probably likes spring or autumn best.

☂ : Does your muse like rain? Most of the time, yes! She quite likes the gentle cadence of rainfall, she finds it very soothing. Unless there's thunder, of course. She's terrified of thunder and will do everything in her power to avoid it.

☼ : Does your muse like daytime or nighttime more? Dove appreciates both, really! She's an early bird and tends to spend most of the nighttime sleeping, and she appreciates daytime things like warm sunshine and cloud-gazing and bird watching, but on those nights when she can't sleep, going outside and looking at the stars comforts her. The whole world is quieter and less overwhelming at night, and she appreciates that too.

🏨 : How well does your muse sleep? Normally she sleeps pretty well, but every so often she has nightmares and has trouble falling asleep after they wake her. She's not kept awake by her thoughts unless she's processing something very, very unsettling.

❤ : What are your muse’s thoughts on love? If they are not in a relationship, do they believe that they will ever find a perfect someone for them? Dove doesn't really think about her future in romance much. She's a little bit of a dreamer and has a vague notion that there's Someone Out There, but you have to remember, she was raised believing she would die, completely isolated from the world, at age 14. The thought of living long enough to Fall In Love With Someone is entirely new to her.

☘ : Does your muse believe in luck? How about fate? I don't think Dove believes in luck at all, but she does believe in forces beyond herself dictating the way some things work. Mostly very vague, fact-of-life things like the need for humans to breathe and the way the stars glow, not minuscule events in her life! She believes her choices dictate most of her "fate", but she also believes in beings more powerful than her dictating certain things beyond her power, too.

⚯ : Does your muse have good eyesight? If not, what is it like? Are they nearsighted or farsighted? Or both? Do they use glasses? Or do they prefer contacts? Oh, Dove has EXCELLENT eyesight. She's a bit sensitive to bright lights, but she can see really well in the dark and has somewhat stronger visual acuity.

👓 : If your muse wears glasses, what are their glasses frames like? She doesn't, unless they're sunglasses. She probably just wears something shapely and understated, with a blue or purple or black frame.

♨ : Does your muse have good table manners? How do they feel about bad table manners? Manners, like many minor social graces, mostly elude Dove. She's very polite in the ways she knows how to be (her mother did teach her to say "please" and "thank you"), but she's completely oblivious to little things that matter in social situations, especially things specific to Earthen cultures like not putting her elbows on the table or knowing which fork to use for a salad. She won't judge someone for bad manners because she probably won't even recognize them in the first place. You'd have to be blatantly rude for her to realize something's amiss. (So far I'm pretty sure the only person who accomplished that was Kary.)

❀ : What is your muse’s opinion about flower crowns? She'd like them! She's not on the internet often enough to recognize them as a meme, but she does like flowers.

♬ : Does your muse sing well? Regardless of whether they sing well or not, do they enjoy singing? Dove's singing voice is pretty okay! It's soft and high and a little halting, and she does like singing, but she has terrible stage fright and she thinks her voice is too high-pitched to be very pretty or soothing. (Her concept of the ideal singing voice is her mother's alto lullabies. Dove is not an alto.) She doesn't have the power or training or technique to have an ~amazing~ singing voice, but she has a pretty good ear and a good sense of pitch. I like it, it's the kind of voice that sounds best for lullabies or folk songs, and she's the most practiced at singing quietly to herself.

📐 : Is your muse good at math? Do they like it, or do they hate it? Dove is actually somewhat decent at math! When she first comes to Earth, she has to learn how to do very Earth-specific things, like read a digital clock and set a timer, but she picks up on it easily enough. Dove doesn't take any math classes unless it's in the "How Long is Forever?" AU (wherein she attends high school), but in that AU she dislikes it in the sense that she struggles with it at first (algebra wasn’t part of her at-home education growing up), but once she catches on, she enjoys it well enough. She doesn't love it, she doesn't hate it, but she appreciates that it's formulaic and reliable.

♞ : What is your muse’s favorite animal? Sieara! More widely though, Azarathean doves were the only animals she was exposed to growing up, so they're probably her favorite by default. I imagine she'd like pigeons and mourning doves by extension?

εїз : How does your muse feel about bugs and insects? She's alright with them. She won't kill them, because in her spirituality all lives are sacred, but she'll probably brush them away gently or wave them off if they crawl on her. She wouldn't want them in her food though.

📱 : Does your muse prefer calling or texting? Calling, probably? She's a hunt-and-peck typist, she's not on the computer or phone/communicator often enough to develop any typing skills.

☆ : Of the sun, stars, and the moon, which is your muse’s favorite? Stars, definitely the stars. The ones on Earth can't hold a candle to Azarath's multi-colored stars, but she still likes to look at them.

ツ : Does your muse prefer lots of friends, or just a few close ones? Definitely a few close ones. She's not social enough to have a lot of friends, and if she did make them, she'd feel overwhelmed if they all gathered in one place.

✝ : Is your muse religious? I'm going to say something that probably won't make much sense at first: The Azarathean religion isn't exactly "religious". Religion denotes strict rules, set schedules, enforced hierarchical structure, and a specifically-prescribed worldview. It's a rigid framework of the kind of life one following the religion must live. While Azarathean society does have a loose hierarchy and rules to their pacifistic lifestyle, they don't concern themselves with what people do on a daily, weekly, monthly basis, and even if they did, Dove was never exposed to these rules (since, you know, nobody who enforced any such rules knew she existed).

However, spiritual teachings have heavy influence on their world, and on Dove's daily life. Spirituality is more the way an individual interacts with their religious beliefs and how metaphysical things affect their life. Dove holds her Azarathean beliefs very dear to her heart, and her spirituality informs a lot of her daily life. She follows Azar's teachings (at least to the best of her ability, being an active superhero on Earth), she meditates according to the Azarathean practice, she prays frequently, and she very much enjoys interacting with her "religious" beliefs, just not in a rigid "religious" manner.

[creideamhgradochas]

Thanks to the lovely @ursulaismymiddlename for taking the time to answer these! Get to know more about lovely Kati, go give her a follow and then show her some love!

These questions are from this list. You should check it out, there’s 50 questions all together and they’d be great to ask your favorite fic writer!

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fan-fiction?

I think I was around 12 or 13, definitely middle school age

2) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.

I can't say for certain that I have a preference.  I never wrote reader insert until Tumblr and I realized that's mostly what people want to read here.  Before that, it was all OCs

3) What is your favorite genre to write for?

Dude, I am a sucker for romance!

4) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?

I actually did this with one fic and it was an SPN fic set in St. Louis around Six Flags... it was called Spellbound, after an AC/DC song lol  It was just AWFUL and I got as far as Sam being afraid of clowns and Dean wanting to eat ALL the funnel cakes before I realized that's all I really had of the fic

5) When is your preferred time to write?

Usually at night, but that rarely happens anymore

6) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Often times it's random thoughts that occur to me, occasionally a song or something. I get a lot of inspiration from trying to murder my friends with soul-crushing ideas haha

7) In your All That’s Best of Dark and Bright fic, what’s your favorite scene that you wrote?

That's a tough one because I vacillate between hating everything and kinda enjoying a lot of it.  I suppose any of the smut scenes are good, and I enjoy the "Winter Soldier" scene in the dance hall from Bucky's perspective.  It was interesting to write.

8) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?

Not that I can think of.  Thankfully I haven't gotten a lot of criticism in my fics, save for spelling and grammar issues.  I may have edited for something like that before.

9) Who is your favorite character to write for? Why?

I love writing for lots of characters! Just my mood sometimes determines who I feel is the best "fit" for writing.  Bucky is obviously a prominent one because there's been lots of feedback for that muse.

10) Who is your least favorite character to write for? Why?

That's... hard to say?  Maybe Natasha Romanoff and I think it's because the movies don't give a lot of good, consistent characterization and I've never gotten into her comic stuffs?

11) How did you come up with the title for the All That’s Best of Dark and Bright?

- It took me months and already 10 chapters written before I came up with the name.. and honestly it's from a poem I've always enjoyed.

12) How did you come up with the idea for All That’s Best of Dark and Bright?

I think it was mostly wanting to see Bucky recovering in a believable way. There's a lot of Bucky recovery fics out there... A LOT, but while many are lovely work, a lot just seem so quick.  Like, suddenly he's fallen for someone and he's all better.  Nothing wrong with that, but I wanted to write something that felt more natural to me.

13) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

I have several, actually.  An SPN fic that I have posted on AO3 and very nearly finished.  A Star Trek: Into Darkness fic and a Vampire Diaries fic.  The first I just lost the muse for and it's been several seasons since I started it, so I felt it was just done.  The other two I lost when an older laptop crashed.  I think there's even an Outsiders fic in the depths of this blog that I never finished haha

14) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

I sometimes think about doing a sequel to Pretty, Shiny Things, but the original was so self-contained and I worry I would ruin it by adding more.

15) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?

There are so few stories that I've actually finished that it's difficult to say haha

16) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

I admire a TON of writers on this site, just the act of putting your work out there is an admirable thing in my book.  Some that especially stick out to me are @interestedbystanderwrites @redgillan @plumfondler @after-avenging-hours @captainpoopweinersoldier @angryschnauzer @abovethesmokestacks @the-squid-one ... I mean, really, they are all wonderful writers and you can hardly go wrong picking a fic of theirs.

17) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

Most of 'em, yeah haha  My Thir13en Ghosts ones are pretty awful from back in the day

18) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?

I used to always have music playing when I wrote, and then one day I turned it off and I've only been able to write in relative silence since

19) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?

Yes, happy and sad tears

20) Which part of your All That’s Best of Dark and Bright fic was the hardest to write?

I think maybe the whole goodbye chapter.  There was a lot of emotion in that chapter and it took a long time

21) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?

I do generally make an outline of scenes I'd like to happen and try to put them in the right order... I agonize over them throughout the process, but sometimes while I'm writing, other things happen and I have to adjust accordingly.  Writing's hard, man.

22) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fan-fiction?

That few people would read it and I'd be nervous about every single one of them haha

23) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

Maybe my Stucky fic?  Or my Clint Valentine's Day fic, featuring Deadpool haha Maybe my Chris Beck fic... that was some smutty goodness

24) In contrast to 23 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

Hmmm, I don't know that I roll my eyes at any praise I receive in that extent lol

25) Are any of your characters based on real people?

If I'm being honest, any reader insert or OC is gonna have a lot of me and/or my closest friends in it

26) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

Probably every time @creideamhgradochas takes the time to write such a long comment on a fic/chapter haha  So many of the compliments I get are amazing, though one that always sticks out is a commenter for the dancing chapter of ATBoDaB saying that Bucky's words in Russian and the way he got so protective reminded her of her boyfriend, who always called her "my sunshine"

27) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

I mean, there's been a person or two who've told me I just shouldn't bother writing because it wasn't any good, so... that was pretty harsh, but not really criticism

28) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?

I tend to share ideas with friends to see if they sound believable or not OR to help hype me up to actually writing it

29) Do people know you write fan-fiction?

Some people do, like my husband and one of my friends.

30) What’s your favorite minor character you’ve written?

Clint Barton probably

31) What spurs you on during the writing process?

Mostly alcohol and friends as cheerleaders

32) What’s your favorite trope to write?

Slow burn, sharing a bed, friends to lovers, A/B/O... so many

33) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?

Actually, I can.  It was a Darth Maul fic that my best friend found and printed out for me to read.  In it, he's in his early 20s and he and Darth Sidious capture a lion-headed Jedi and his female apprentice (I think she was blind?) that Darth Maul started to catch feelings for, but he ended up killing her.

34) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

It's so difficult to choose between fluff and smut!  Smut can allow for some fluffy bits or angsty bits, but there's only so many way you can write genitals moving together haha

[idids0methingbad]

1. pick an original character: my canon inquisitor Ellana Lavellan (i'm horrible at names so all my characters are almost always the default names), pre trespasser post main plot of inquisition. 2. Fill in the questions/statements as if you were being interviewed for an article and you were the character/muse 3. tag people to do the same: @spacedivaas @stopitanders @symmtera @inquisitor-julia @vassilian (obviously y'all don't have to do if you don't want to!) and thank you @bannshianni for tagging me in this! i love being tagged in things and i apologize for this taking so long, it took me a bit to do since i am crap at writing, but i did very much like doing this :) 1) What is your name? (She has a slight smile) My name is Ellie. 2) No seriously, what is your real name? (she sighs heavily, and rolls her eyes) Well if you want know my full long name, it is Ellana Lavellan, first to the keeper and I am more officially known as the Inquisitor. 3) Do you know why you were called that? Well I am Ellana because that’s what my parents named me when I was born, I am the first to the keeper because I was the best mage born in my clan (after the keeper, obviously), and inquisitor because I happened to be at the right place at the right time, and grabbed the right orb. 4) Are you single or taken? (a grin grows on her face) I am currently taken, I am with the commander of my armies, Cullen Rutherford. 5) Do you have any abilities or powers? (she takes a minute to answer this) I guess I have magic, specifically I specialized in Storm magic and specializing in being a Knight Enchanter. Oh yeah, and I have my abilities with my mark. (at this she brings her left arm up, and it starts to glow green) 6) Stop being a Mary Sue. (she crinkles her face at this, with a confused look in her eyes) what even is that? Regardless I will still continue to do whatever I want. 7) What is your eye color? I have dark green eyes. 8) How about your hair color? I have brown hair. 9) Have any family members? (she gets a wistful look in her eyes, and a sad smile) My mother and my father are still in my clan, and I have my four siblings, two brothers and two sisters. I miss them all very much and wish they were here of course, but I am also grateful to know that as long as they are in the clan they should all be safe. I was closest to my younger sister, Lalya, we were partners in crime. Of course I love all my siblings though. 10) I see… what about pets? We didn’t really have pets in the clan, but I guess I could get one now, I just haven’t really thought about it. (she shrugs with a nonchalant expression) 11) Tell me about something you don’t like. (her face brightens, and she takes a deep breath in) well you’re the one who asked! Honestly I could go on a rant for hours about SO many things I don’t like, but if I HAD to choose one, it would have to be the way mages are treated outside of Dalish clan. Mages are feared and they are pushed into towers and told to not do anything but survive until its useful for things like wars, but magic should be welcomed, it is a gift and such a great one. Magic or mages are NOT what is bad, it is the person inside wielding magic, and bad people aren’t only limited to mages, people with bows or greatswords can be just as equally awful. Magic is just a tool, just like a dagger or a sword. 12) Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing? I love to read and discuss magic with my friend Dorian, but I also LOVE to just relax with my friend Sera by running around and pranking people around Skyhold. (she smirks after saying this) 13) Ever hurt anyone before? (she squints her eyes) Obviously? I fight evil on a daily basis. 14) Ever… killed anyone before. I killed that son of a bitch Corypheus. 15) What kind of animal are you? Hmmm. To be honest I have no idea, I have never thought about it. A halla? I am dalish and they are too, so I guess a halla. 16) Name one of your worst habits. Being a bit too much of smart ass sometimes. If someone talks to me sometimes instead of giving them a more (she thinks for a minute) …sympathetic answer, I will answer very sarcastically instead of being genuine. 17) Do you look up to anyone? I look up to quite a few people. I look up to the woman who ended the blight, Kallian Tabris. She rose up from being a city elf living in an alienage to becoming commander of the grey, but still staying true to herself and crediting her family for all she’s done. I also admire Anders (yes that Anders) because he saw what needed to be done for mages justice everywhere and he did it. (she looks over her shoulder a couple times, looking nervous) just don’t tell anyone around HERE that. 18) Sexual orientation? I am attracted to people based on their soul and heart, not their gender. 19) Do you go to school? No, I was in a Dalish clan. 20) Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day? (she has a smile so big you can see all her teeth) of course, I love the idea of having children and getting married! 21) What are you most afraid of? (she has evident discomfort on her face) I am most afraid of something happening to my clan and family, or Cullen going back to lyrium. 22) What do you usually wear? When I am out and about I wear keeper robes, at skyhold I wear a typical Dalish outfit. I miss home what can I say! 23) Do you love someone? I love many people. Romantically I love Cullen. Platonically I love Sera, Dorian, Varric, Cassandra, so many others. And I have family love for… you guessed it, my family. 24) What class are you? (high, middle, low) I guess high since I am the inquisitor. 25) How many friends do you have? More than I deserve, but I have eleven in my inner circle. 26) Thoughts on pie? No really strong opinion, it is good I guess. 27) Favorite drink? A good mug of ale always boosts my spirits. 28) What’s your favorite place? Wherever my clan is. (her face looks melancholy) 29) Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean? I have swum in plenty of lakes, now oceans I haven’t. I would love to swim in an ocean to see what It is like. 30) Are you interested in anyone? I am very interested in my strong, powerful partner who used to be a Templar who is just in the next room (she winks and smirks at this) 31) What’s your bra size? Honestly, I don’t know because I pretty much never wear a bra. (she shrugs) My boobs aren’t big enough for me to go through all that. 32) Well, what is your type? And what attracts you? I don’t know if I really have a type, I just kinda like people. Although I do find blondes very attractive. 33) Any fetishes? (she has a look of surprise suddenly) That is definitely none of your business, that’s for who sleeps with me to know, not for some random person. 34) Seme or uke? Top or bottom? Dominant or submissive? What I said before, unless you want to sleep with me I am not telling you. 35) Camping indoors or outdoors? Outdoors, it reminds me if being with my clan. 36) Are you wanting the quiz to end? No, I quite like it when people try to know me as somebody other than just the inquisitor. if anybody wants to tag me in more things like this feel free to, i love these sort of things!

[derangedknifefreak]

Chara

-Verses-

Void/file travel: Chara randomly appears in timelines/au’s other then her own to mess with them. Past: Chara when she was younger, aka, during the goat family time with Asriel. Possesing Frisk: Chara during her first genocide run. Will be written with both my muses. Non-canon: Anything else you’d like to rp, such as post pacifist or random ships, I won’t say no but I won’t consider it canon for Chara’s story.

About

Full Name: HIDDEN Nickname: Chara >     How’d they get it?: It was the first thing she thought of when she met Asriel.

Age: 14 (but if you count all the timelines she’s been through she’d be around 30 or so) >     Date of Birth: 25 may 1974 >     Zodiac: Gemini

Species: Human Gender: Trans Feminine (Aka, born male, identifies primarily but not completely as female.)

Pronouns: She/Her or They/Them Sexual Orientation: No preference

>     When did they realize this?:Their interests don’t lay in traditional sexual contact, so the gender or species of the opposing party simply don’t matter.

Current Residence: Post Genocide Undertale verse

Fight Abilities

Hand-to-Hand capability: Very quick reflexes and good at dodging, but having a teens body, her punches are virtually harmless. >     Who taught them: Reflexes came naturally but she learned how to deal with monster attacks through multiple playthroughs with various Frisks and Players.

Weapons: Chara will use whatever weapon is available to them and is light enough for them to swing effectively. She has an obvious preference for any weapon with a sharp edge and point, like knives, swords and spears. She usually picks a knife because it’s the lightest and easiest to maneuver. >     Who taught them: Self taught

Physical strength: very little Speed: very fast Planning: She knows all monsters from the original timeline so she can easily plan her attacks around this knowledge, but when she meets a new monster she tends to attack blindly until she’s figured them out. Powers: Can possess anybody. A monsters’ weaker soul doesn’t stand a chance against hers, but the soul of a young determined human could probably expel hers. Gaining LOVE makes it easier for her to possess you.

Family

The only parents Chara truly remembers having at this point are Toriel and Asgore. Before she fell into the underground she actually had a pretty normal family life, but she didn’t get along with any of her family; she simply never fit in anywhere. She was always the odd duck out and not once felt any kind of understanding from anyone. She hates humans primarily because they’re ‘stupid’ and ‘useless’. This hatred only applies to adults as she’s generally willing to give children a chance.

Chara was always a bit closer with Toriel, she appreciated goat mom’s humor and felt accepted and loved by her in ways she never felt before. Unconditionally. She loves Asgore too, but simply has a slightly more distant relationship with him. Asgore was more aware of her somewhat twisted nature, which is probably why he kept her at a slight distance.

Of course she was closest with Asriel. The two shared literally everything together. Toriel had a difficult job just getting them to eat of different plates and sleep in different beds. But despite how close they were their relationship was less then healthy. Chara would manipulate and emotionally abuse Asriel to get what she wanted. Asriel was for the most part unaware of this, but occasionally it would dawn on him that she treated him more like a pet then a brother. He never complained though; he just wanted her to love and approve of him.

Relationships

Virgin?: In the classic sense, yes. However they have been involved in sexual acts of a different nature.

First crush?: You could argue that (genocide!)Sans was their first crush; but it would only be his strength they crushed on, not him as a person. They also have a certain obsession with their frisk and the same goes for Asriel; while they were never in love She considers him hers and used to get really possessive.

Any romantic relationship?: It would be difficult for any relationship with a person this twisted to evolve into a romance, but it’s not impossible. Chara could only be romanced by a personality more dominant then her own, and that person would have to accept her ‘demonic’ nature, and to a certain degree, understand it. Chara is an emotional masochist, she won’t like being hurt physically, but she likes it if her partner can give her the feels. The more it hurts her heart, the better. 

Favorites

Favorite foods: French Snails in Garlic butter [Don’t put them in pie toriel!], Candied apples, Pure Chocolate >     Least favorite food: Pasta’s in general

Favorite colors: Red [BLOOD] >     Least favorite color: Gold

Music: Trance and the gentler styles of house music Literature: Fairy Tales Smell: Lemons Feeling: Bittersweet Season: Fall Pets: Hamster Place: Core Favorite sport: Dancing Possession this character values most: the Heart locket >     Why is it so important to them?:It contains a picture of her goat family and reminds her of the happiest time she had in her life.

Physical Characteristics

Height: 155 cm (5 feet 1 inch) Weight: 45 kg (90 pounds) Body build: Slender Eye Color: Deep brown/ red >     Glasses or contact lenses?: No

Hair Color: Light Brown >     Type of hair: Frizzy straight >     Hairstyle: Chin length, styled outwards

Complexion and skin tone: Pale / Caucasian >     Any particular blemishes?: Her lips are always cracked.

Shape of Face: apple Scent: Salty and Metallic Voice: Medium high Mannerisms: Giggly, seemingly carefree, DISTURBING Health: Physically; she’s literally a walking, rotting corpse. It doesn’t really bother her much though and she can’t exactly get sick either. Her soul (Which isn’t in her body, she’s using Frisks’) is all cracked up and eternally bleeding. Style: Simple and cute, a cross between childish and feminine. She likes sleeves that are too long. Tics: Not exactly a nervous tic, but She cannot stand still when she hears music, ever. She will dance against her own will.

Preferred Clothing

Underwear: Solid colored slips Shirts: stripped sweaters Pants: comfy shorts, leggings Skirts: short, multi-layer Jackets: loose and comfortable Shoes: anything without heels, Short boots Accessories: She doesn’t go anywhere without her locket. Formal wear: She’d purposely wear something old and torn up just to make a point. Sleeping wear: shorts and shirt Swimming wear: children’s bikini

Intellectual/Mental/Personality Attributes and Attitudes

Did they go to school?: She was home schooled both above and under ground. She’s good at exact subjects.

Native language: English >     Do they know any other languages?: No, but she carries a wing dings translation sheet around just in case. Multiverse travel taught her to.

Manner of Writing: Childish, doesn’t use difficult words and keeps her sentences short. Any Mental Illnesses?: So many, but they are undiagnosed. In short, she’s thoroughly fucked in the head. How does your Character see themselves?: “After everything I’ve done, It’s still just me. Nothing’s wrong.” How does your Character believe they are perceived by others?: They think they’re seen as nothing but a demon who only exists to torture and kill everyone around them. This believe is often accurate. How self-confident is your character?: If they don’t feel confident they will just pretend they are so it’s not noticeable. They’re a good actor. >     What makes their self-confidence waver?: Dying to minor monsters

What would embarrass your character the most?: If somebody felt sorry for them. How does your character feel about love: She doesn’t see the point of it.

How does your character show affection/love?: Play around and threatening them longer before brutally murdering them. She may even make you a flower crown. Before forcing you to eat it. Probably. How does your character handle grief?: In short, she doesn’t. She just pretends it’s not there at all. >     What are they like when they cry?: Quietly sobbing while hidden away OR grinning madly while tears stream down when their face with the FEELS. >     What can make them cry?: Being reminded of Asriel’s betrayal or in those rare moments when the fact everybody hates their existence actually gets to them.

How does your character handle physical pain?: She gets mad and makes sure to pay it back triple. >     Emotional pain?: She gets high on it.

Leader or follower?: Follower/ loner ‘big picture’ or ‘little details’?: Big picture Energy level: She’s quite energetic. Describe their sense of humor:  Dry and dark. Very dark. She finds screams of agony especially funny. Hobbies: Playing games and dancing. Talents: Seeing through people, dancing. >     She dances a fast style of contemporary dance.

Extremely unskilled at: Socializing.

Emotional Characteristics

How does character relate to others?: She seem them primarily as tools or sources of entertainment. How does the character deal with anger?: Fight. >     With sadness/ loss?: Smile >     With conflict?: Kill >     With change?: Curiosity

What does your character want out of life?: To be entertained What would your character like to change in his/her life?: Generally they’d answer this question with ‘nothing’ or ‘what would be the point, this world will end regardless’. But occasionally they’ll long for the time they were happy with their family, and wish Asriel had used his powers to get the 6 souls and execute their plan. What frightens your character?: Little white dogs >     Are they afraid of the Dark?: No, they embrace it. >     Death?: No, they’re technically  already dead.

Is your character judgmental of others?: She’s quick to gather what to expect of the opposing party but her deductions are usually accurate so you can’t really call it being judgmental. She’s kind of judgmental of naive people though. Is your character generous or stingy?: Neither, she doesn’t really deal with money. Is your character generally polite or rude?: Rude. Optimistic or Pessimistic?: Pessimistic. Introvert or Extrovert?: Introvert/ behaves like extrovert. Daredevil or Cautious?: Daredevil, no need to be cautious when you’re already dead. Logical or Emotional?: Both Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat?: Messy Would they rather be working or relaxing?: They like to be active. How do they feel about animals?: Pets are pretty cute, she secretly has a weakness for fluffy things. They are most at ease when: Listening to music and dancing alone. >     Ill at ease when: having to behave for some reason in a crowded place; too many people judging her at once.

What is their best quality?: Good dancer. What is their biggest flaw?: Everything else.

Some History

Chara didn’t go through any sort of trauma aside from those caused by her own abnormal personality even as a child. During her childhood she never expressed her inner demons the way she does now. She was actually a pretty sweet child before Frisk showed her it was ok for her to be evil, to be themselves, through doing a genocide run. Since then she has seen, and caused many more broken timelines.

Breaking and recreating the timeline over and over again has caused her soul to crack. Pieces have broken away over time, leaving her with less and less of her ‘good’ self. If she continues the way she has, eventually, she truly will be nothing but the demon called LOVE.

Blank Character profile by Jadeookami@Deviantart