#if you're reading this and you have advice on how to write johnny in character

[vole-mon-amour]

Johnny's range: from taking on Arasaka tower to crying in front of V in their apartment. he's so used to barking orders because so many things have been out of his control for so long.

but in order to comfort him, I need him helpless, vulnerable, defenseless, and maybe overwhelmed. and it sounds worse than what i have in my mind, but still. no barking orders, just tenderness. deep genuine talk. no bullshit such as 'you mean nothing to me.'

that man, just like Kerry, needs so much fucking therapy. (that's why they can work on their feelings together)

[sofasoap]

A quiet moment – John “Soap” MacTavish. 

Pairing :    John “Soap” MacTavish. X f!reader 

Summary: Little short drabble about our Soap boy and domestic fluff. Part of “ Mini MacTavish verse” , The character who was the flatmate of Mini which I gave her the name “Emma” in other fic, but here you can place any name you want here in this fic. warning : None. Domestic fluffs.

Character of Mini MacTavish is from @saltofmercury fic “ “The Favorite MacTavish” ” which she graciously let me borrow and write a bit more expanded universe. Please go read her wonderful story to get bit of background, 

“masterlist” for the prequel to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

You let out a puff as you haul bags of groceries into your kitchen. You half expect the boys to come downstairs, as they usually do, to help you put things away. The boys are in the nursery, playing with piles of duplo and lego Johnny had bought for his son. 

“Are you going grocery shopping? We will come as well.” 

“I know you want to play with the legos.” You laughed, “ Plus, relax with our baby. Spend some time with him.” Johnny loves kids. Before your son was born, he was always over at his sister and Simon’s house, playing with the twins. Constantly express his eagerness to start a family with you straight after marriage. Due to the nature of both of your work, it gets delayed and delayed.

Until you gave him a card one day, and he absolutely balled his eyes out when he saw the ultrasound photo and the message in there, 

“ Hello daddy, can’t wait to meet you in a few months time!” 

Mini had warned you before that her brother is secretly a crybaby ( which of course, he fervently denies.), witnessing him display such openness with emotion, makes you love him even more. As due date gets closer and closer, the more nervous he gets. Can a man like him, with blood on his hand, really be a good father? Mini and the family came over one weekend for their regular family dinner,Johnny and Simon sat down outside on the deck, having a quiet drink,he expressed his worry to his brother-in arm/ brother-in-law. “... I think you will be fine. Look how well you do when you babysit the twins.” Simon said after a long silence.” Besides,if I can do it, you can too.” he let out a humourless laugh. Johnny reaches over and punches lightly on his shoulder. “Don’t put yourself down like that. You are a good father to the kids. You're going to be a good uncle too.” Two men clink their glasses. What started as Johnny trying to get some advice from Simon ended up to be two men trying to console each other.  But they don’t care, even with their brief period of rift of what happened between Simon and Mini, they are always there for each other. 

Simon was speechless when You and Johnny told him you will be naming your first born after him.

“ It’s only fair, your son was named after me.” Johnny said with a puffed chest.

“....I didn’t exactly make that decision.” Simon mumbled. Mini jabbed him with her elbow. 

You felt something tugging your trousers. Bringing you back from your reverie. Looking down, you saw your toddler son, Simon Campbell MacTavish, smiling up to you. “... huh,wha, where is daddy???” You asked your son, confused. Little Simon held up one of his fingers up to his lip, motioning you to follow him. 

With his little leg, he slowly climbed up the talls stairs, waddling towards his nursery. On the floor, you see Johnny , in a pile of duplos, snoring away. Little Simon pulled his blanket through the gaps of his cot, went over to his dad, draping the blanket over him clumsly, and proceeded to curl up right beside him, Johnny’s arm subconsciously pulling him into his lap. “Mama, goodnight.” He yawned and closed his eyes. Joining his dad in the dreamland. 

You chuckled at the sight. Picking up spare pillows from the cot, you put it under your son’s  Johnny’s head, and retreat from the room. Johnny ended up having an extremely sore back for the next few days. “ Sore back Soap? Having too much fun at home?”“ Shut up. You think grenades and rocket launchers are deadly? Try sleeping on lego and duplos.”

For my Soap squads out there.  Thank you for reading, any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated :)

[ohbo-ohno]

How do you write fanfiction without going ooc?

Personally I think you're the best cod writer, I'm considering writing some fan fiction but I'm scared the characters arent in character

"best cod writer"??? when i haven't posted in like a month?? oh babe we are getting MARRIED ilysm thank you <3

im actually like fucking terrible at giving advice (i am not a well spoken person lmao) but i can talk At you for a bit about this!!!

grasping a character's voice is actually like. deeply difficult, and it's maaaaybe the thing i struggle with most when writing (or at least one of the things lmao). especially bc literally every single writer has a different voice for every character, so you have to find what works best for your story and your style. your ghost shouldn't look/sound exactly like someone else's ghost, because he's yours, yk?

that also being said - things that are ooc to me aren't necessarily ooc to someone else. the ghost in my mind would never let you call him a cheesy pet name like "sisi", but that doesn't mean that someone else's ghost wouldn't, yk? and to them, they're in character! so you've kinda got to decide what you think being in character is, if that makes any sense

i read a looooot of fanfiction before i started writing my own cod stuff. i've only watched the full campaign once, but i've read what's probably dozens of fics lmao - my ghost and soap are an amalgamation of the things i enjoyed most in other people's fics. think about the things that you love the most in your favorite fics, and see if you can replicate that tone/vibe

i also think that getting a character's Voice is a lot more than just dialogue. i write in either second person or third person limited, but for the sake of this i'll talk a bit about third person limited

if i'm writing smth like i'll eat you whole, im technically writing from johnny's perspective, right? so i don't write his internal monologue in his accent, but i do use certain adjective he would - like instead of describing ghost as "broad" or "hulking", i said he's "a big motherfucker" bc that's how i think johnny would talk. this doesn't matter nearly as much with second person, but letting johnny's voice float into the internal monologue helps keep me in the right headspace for the fic. it's easier for me to maintain his voice if i never really let it go, yknow what i mean?

also i know this sounds sooo stupid but i think a big part of writing in character is literally just thinking "can i see them saying this? would a person like this do this?"

like. okay. ghost is a 6'4 special forces lieutenant who is willing to do literally anything if it means completing his mission. he's a big man with an even bigger reputation. can you see him begging for your forgiveness at the slightest argument? can you see him stuttering on a first date?

and soap is an incredibly accomplished sergeant who's set records in the military, he's a demolitions expert and a skilled sniper with a hell of a temper. can you see him giggling? can you see him crying when his girlfriend is mad at him?

sometimes making sure you're not writing ooc is as simple as "They Would Not Fucking Say That", and as unhelpful as it is, that's literally just based on vibes

is any of that coherent at all?? i genuinely don't know. hope i didn't make things worse! ily!

(also just as general writing advice - practice!!! don't post everything you write!! i cannot tell you how many things i've written will never see the light of day, but all my little failures in writing have given me a better grasp on the characters, yk? you have to do badly and recognize what's bad before you can be super happy with your writing. write something and then focus on exactly what feels off to you, and change only that. idk. maybe im spouting bullshit)

[midnightthelynxbat]

Venturiantale Headcannons/Bullshit

Despite the fact that most of them would take a while to explain because of my chaos. I badly want to share the stories I've made of these fuckers, and this might be a fun start. Only focusing on the P.I.E team and some of the ghosts (plus Jimmy and Gavin). Some characters won't have as much as others due to either being underdeveloped or the headcannons are already cannon or common in the Fandom (like Spooker being an anime fan and having a plushie collection). I might do more if this goes well.

Also, as a heads up- there's some mentions of nsfw scenarios like smut and moaning- just because I know some people can be uncomfortable with that. I say this as drugs and alcohol are pretty common in this Fandom, but-

Johnny Ghost:

- He's an absolute jackass to Spooker. Extremely harsh on him for even the smallest things. Despite this, Ghost actually loves Spooker. Sees him as a son. The reason he's hard on Spooker is because he sees himself in Spooker (even if he doesn't fully know why cause Jimmy).

- Jimmy is why he doesn't remember his childhood. Jimmy's creation created a barrier to block out the memories. Basically, Johnny Ghost remembers nothing, but Jimmy remembers everything.

- Ghost eats like he won't ever get food again due to childhood trauma that I will explain in another post. Even if it's something small, like a candy bar, he will scarf it down. He usually ends up choking on food because of this.

- Ghost still can't read in my stories. He can't read or write, but he's oddly skilled at drawing. He actually draws the entity examples in the books Toast writes.

- Ghost is poly and bisexual, currently in a three-way relationship with Toast and Josh. They illegitimately adopted Spooker.

- Ghost is actually related to Spooker, but he never found out until much later. To make a long story short, he was adopted by Barnacle Soup, who later had Spooker.

- Ghost loves to embarrass Toast. His favorite thing to do is have Toast read smut for him and make the poor man imitate the voices. Just fuckin-

Toast: "He moaned out a-"

Ghost: "You better fucking moan it this time."

- He drinks coffee like it's the only thing keeping him alive. At least 6 cups a day. Bastard is the type to say "sleep is for cowards" but then regret the fact he hasn't slept for 3 days straight.

Johnny Toast:

- Toast is an absolute ball of anxiety when it comes to leading the team. He constantly second guesses and doubts himself no matter how hard he tries. Despite this, he's the mother of the team. If you need some life advice, a shoulder to cry on and a snack to make you feel better, Toast is who you go to.

- In this version of them, Toast is actually the one who created the drug version of macaroni. There's normal macaroni, but Toast accidentally discovered what spices to mix to create drug-like effects. However, it can't be taken in large portions. A small dose, like a spoonful, can have the calming and mellowed effects of weed. But a whole box? You're seeing God, and he's riding a unicorn.

- Toast has two werewolf forms. They actually look the same, but what makes them different is what caused them. His werewolf form is controlled by emotion. Negative emotions will result in the violent version, which will listen to no one and will rip apart anyone that gets close. It only listens to Ghost and Josh. The other is brought on by positive emotions. It's basically a giant, overlyfriendly husky.

- Toast has to wear glasses. He has two pairs: his casual ones (they have little crystals hanging from them), his formal ones (just a thin, gray frame), and then the contact lenses he wears on missions.

- Toast eventually manages to reconnect with Gavin. However, in order to do so, Gavin ripped Toast's throat out. But unlike Gavin, Toast had the people and resources to revive properly. Gavin didn't.

- Sometimes, the werewolf form will take partial control and it comes with a chance of Toast having some dog-like qualities. From the ability to actually growl and bark, to the urge to chase something that someone threw, to begging for food. Just this 6'6 man sitting on the floor beside Ghost as Ghost eats and gives him big ol' puppy dog eyes just to get a bite. It's times like this that he's more likely to accept a head pat.

- Toast is also bi and polyamorous.

- Every now and then, he'll see Mary's spirit in his dreams and gets to talk to her. She's accepting of his choice to try and move on.

- He cut ties with his family almost completely after realizing the abuse and manipulation they were doing to him and his siblings.

Spooker:

- Spooker absolutely looks up to Ghost as both an icon and a father figure. He adores that man with every fiber of his being.

- Surprisingly, Spooker is the fastest in the entire group. Due to how often he was chosen as bait, he's now able to run at about 10 miles per hour- and that's when he isn't panicking and actually running for his life.

- He's also the youngest in the team at 19 (Toast and Ghost are both in their 40s and Colon is 20.)

- He's the only one that really tries to befriend the ghosts even if they're trying to kill him. It actually ended up with some of the ghosts either protecting him or going for the rest of the team instead.

- He tries to imitate his teammates sometimes. He'll imitate Toast's accent, Ghost's sarcasm, or Colon's style. He's not trying to mock them at all, but he tries to show his affection for their little details like this.

- Spooker is surprisingly more skilled than most people around him think. He's not strong by any means, but due to his connections to certain ghosts and people (and a P.I.E team oc), he's learned to use his smaller size against enemies.

- He is pan, but not very interested in much intimacy. He'd prefer to just cuddle and talk

Colon:

- Colon has a surprisingly stunning sense of style. He can pull off any outfit. Hoodies, flannels, suits, dresses- you name it, he can do it. He's also extremely skilled with makeup- his favorite pallete is black and blue.

- He sometimes takes up a bit of a second job as a drag performer (right now, his drag name is just the warrior name I gave him: Pooling Amber). He's extremely skilled with it and shocks everyone with how flamboyant he can be.

- He's almost terrifyingly calm. Almost nothing gets under his skin- even the end of the world wouldn't send a single chill down his spine. You know if he's upset, something is horribly wrong.

- He does practice witchcraft and the dark arts- started to learn it after the drama with Cranky (which lasts longer because of oc). He meets up with Cranky and another oc to practice and learn.

- He's probably the strongest in the team alongside Ghost. The two of them are the main ones fighting the ghosts while Spooker is bait and Toast does the research (with Ghost's help).

- He was the one to find a way to seperate Jimmy from Ghost, using a sort of potion to officially split the soul and a spell to give Jimmy a physical body. It was a gruesome scene- best described as Ghost crumbling to his knees and feeling like he's vomiting up his intestines. They're both fine.

- He is bi, but leans more towards men. He's in the same boat as Spooker and isn't really into intimacy. But he's a lot less of a talker. He likes to listen to Spooker ramble.

Jimmy:

- Jimmy's body after being separated is entirely made up of this weird, ink-like substance. He can adjust the solidity of it- allowing him to scare people by melting his face away. He's perfectly fine while doing it, but it takes him a while to rebuild the body back into a fully solid state.

- Jimmy is a cursed being. A fucking gremlin. Because of the substance his body is made of, he's able to melt his hands to climb up walls. He loves to hang upside down and smile at his victims.

- He's surprisingly not wanting to kill the team. He finds them fun and will actually visit him. Admittedly, it's not for great reasons- like he enjoys chasing Spooker around the house on all fours just to scare the poor thing.

- Jimmy and Ghost have a complicated relationship- more like siblings than anything. They both know full well they're technically the same person, and they've known about each other since Jimmy was created. While Jimmy is a bastard that ruins Ghost's life and destroys things he loved and his image, they do care for each other. They grew up together sharing the same body- but now that they're split, they have a better connection.

- Jimmy had a crush on Gavin Toast since Ghost and Toast first met. Due to Jimmy's crush and Ghost wanting to make him happy, Ghost and Gavin had a one night stand in their late teenage years. Ghost let Jimmy take over during this to let him enjoy the night since Ghost had no romantic interest in Gavin.

- When Jimmy got his own body, he took up a form with a similar appearance to their father, Timothy Casket. Whether this is intentional or accidental, I don't know yet- Ghost has more similar appearances to their mother.

- He's gay and kind of unsurprisingly more interested in intimacy than romance.

Gavin:

- He should be dead. Simple as that. The event between him and Toast resulted in him getting torn apart, but the biggest thing that was damaged/removed was Gavin's heart. Not in a "Oh, he's heartbroken" way. Toast ripped Gavin's heart from his chest. It was only thanks to Jimmy that Gavin was able to rebuild the body and repossess it.

- Gavin has to replace some of his body parts at times because they get too rotten since theres no proper blood flow to them. Just Toast going to check on Gavin to find him in the bathroom, stitching a new chin to his face. The old, rotting one just sitting on the counter.

- Gavin's fire extends beyond just his hands. He's like Peril in Wings of Fire. He's constantly burning on the inside, which also increases his body heat to the point that sitting next to him is like sitting beside a fireplace. He can use the fire anywhere along his body. Take steps and leave burning footprints, let out a sigh and a plume of smoke comes from his mouth- he doesn't even have to light a cigarette to smoke it.

- He knew about Jimmy long before the one night stand. He's not dumb. He noticed Ghost's eyes changing to red. He's seen Jimmy watching him from the next door window. He knows full well and wasn't surprised at all when Jimmy revealed himself properly.

- His powers are hereditary. He gets them from his grandfather on his mother's side (his mother isn't from royalty).

- Gavin has always been pretty open about the fact he's interested in men. It's one of the reasons his parents didn't like him at all. They wanted to keep a "perfect image" and believed Gavin was ruining it.

Maxwell:

- Surprisingly a gentle giant. Mostly around Aimee. She's the only one keeping him calm and she's the only one he trusts to show kindness to. He even gifted her a little half mask made of roses to show her his care.

- Half of his face is molten. It's just a bloody mess of molten flesh that drips off as he moves. When global of it hit the floor, it immediately fizzles away and disintegrates. Due to the fact that it was the shock of having acid poured on his face that killed him, the acid didn't get a chance to melt completely through. This is why his spirit is shown with the bloody mess.

- He was born with ghastly white pupils. Even as an infant, people were scared of him because his ice blue eyes seemed to glow in the dark. The white pupils are not from blindness.

- He still cares for the Acachalla family. Due to my insanity cursing the story, Papa is not his brother or his cousin. Maxwell is Papa and Gertrude's only biological child. And due to Papa being an extremely abusive man (this is mostly because his entire character is painfully similar to my own abusive father), the family was trapped with constant abuse. Papa blamed Maxwell for it all and forged evidence, which resulted in Maxwell getting killed. Maxwell does not blame the rest of the family.

- Maxwell accidentally killed Katrina. Gertrude fell ill for some time, and Maxwell wanted to help his mother, but no job would take him, and he needed money fast. So he hid his identity and committed crimes. He stole Katrina's purse by chance while she was out with Ghost, and the two chased him. Maxwell held Katrina hostage in a panic to keep Ghost away, but Ghost charged and made Maxwell flinch- which coaxed him to pull the trigger and shoot Katrina. This was the night Ghost was going to propose to her.

Aimee:

- She's not a stalker in any manner in the story. However, people fear her because of her height. The woman is over 7 feet tall.

- Aimee is actually the sort of ringleader behind it all. People think it would be Maxwell because of how cunning and sly he is, he can easily recruit people and ghosts to join him, but even he bows to Aimee. She's not nearly as violent as the other spirits, but she uses kindness to win over everyone.

- She died from boiling water being poured on her. Unlike Maxwell, she was not killed by the shock. She suffered through the pain until the heat tore away her face down to the bone. This is why Maxwell gave her the flower mask. She's very insecure about it and hates the fact it scares people away.

- The man who killed her was an ancestor of Ghost, hence why they look alike (I know people already came to that conclusion, but-). Aimee didn't realize there were different people when she first saw Ghost. Thus, she reacted violently and tried to kill him for "What he did to her." She later realized her mistake and tried to apologize to Ghost- but he's understandably afraid of her.

[lnights]

Hello,

For the ask game I choose

3. Do you read your own fics?

5. Do you plan? Or do you "wing it"?

8. Have any comments/tags/responses on a fic of yours ever made you laugh, cry or both?

15. Angst or fluff?

16. What is your favorite character (or characters) to write for?

20. Do you prefer to edit as you go, or once the piece is finished?

21. Do you listen to music as you write?

23. Have you ever stopped yourself from writing something? Why?

26. Is there a specific scene or scenario you're looking forward to most? (No, you don't have to give away spoilers!)

29. Best writing advice for other writers?

Hi hi 🌸

3. Do you read your own fics?

Every once in a while, not often.

5. Do you plan? Or do you "wing it"?

Both, I always have a plot outline in my head but specifics usually are more wing it.

8. Have any comments/tags/responses on a fic of yours ever made you laugh, cry or both?

Yes! One that made laugh recently:

"Would it kill you to just give the guy a Capri Sun and an orgasm in a fic? He deserves it"

15. Angst or fluff?

Angst with a happy resolution.

16. What is your favorite character (or characters) to write for?

Aleksi, Samy, Joel, Tommi, Johnny

I may have a couple more from other bands I'm coming to really like 👀 haven't published anything with them yet though.

20. Do you prefer to edit as you go, or once the piece is finished?

A bit of both, if I do text to speech at all I have to edit right away because it gets all screwy. Otherwise I'll edit chapter by chapter.

21. Do you listen to music as you write?

Generally no but I should.

23. Have you ever stopped yourself from writing something? Why?

Yeah so when I was writing The Night Won't Let Me Go I left it kind of vague as to why the vampire turned Aleksi and Olli into fledglings.

Not shown was how I wrote and rewrote a scene about 6 times of the vampire basically wanting Aleksi as his plaything and deciding to bring Olli along as a bargaining chip to keep Aleksi there before I decided that might be a bit heavy for the fic and trashed it (it was definitely sexual in nature, although I had no intention of any SA actually happening to either of them) I was still newer to the fandom and was worried how it would be received.

26. Is there a specific scene or scenario you're looking forward to most? (No, you don't have to give away spoilers!)

Yes! My august year of the OTP fic will be a fun one.

29. Best writing advice for other writers?

Have fun and block the statistics page on AO3 if you're like me and constantly wondering if you have a good grade in fanfiction.

[lazybutsmexy]

Hey love, I've been re reading your Canary story and I find it really, really good. Every chapter is just chef's kiss. I love your writing very very much.

Excuse me if this has been asked before. I was wondering if you could tell more about how you write, your process. Some ideas of writing myself have been floating in my head but I am more of a visual person, i draw more and I have never written anything like that. (Only my university thesis 😭)

I am not sure where to start and if I should follow any guidelines or something. Any advice? 🫣

Hello sweet anon! You made my day with your kind words, and even more with asking me for advice.

I'm not an expert writer (if such a thing exists) but I can share my writing process with you. I will use some examples from BH since you've already mentioned it, and also because it's my most expansive piece so far. (Under the cut for length)

Brainstorming

Ideas, ideas, ideas! Write down your first ideas anywhere. Notes app, Google docs, a notebook you've got lying around, anything goes. This is the moment when you put into writing any ideas you've got - no matter if you think they're silly, or need a whole plot for that one idea to work - write it down. How did the process of your uni thesis start? You came up with an idea and wrote it down. How did BH start? I opened Google docs and wrote "Ghost x Reader x Soap where reader gets kidnapped and her boys gotta find her FAST. Lots of bird references. Her name could be Canary."

Rough draft

Here's where you start putting those ideas into a rough shape. More than a story, you're aiming for a descriptive text, like a review or a report on what's happening to whom, who are involved, etc. This is the moment where you may add notes about your characters, reader and/or OC, and start playing around with their personalities, how they behave in certain situations, how they think, how they feel, how they connect to other characters.

If you are a bit of a perfectionist like me, and want your writing to feel like you're watching a film, research, investigate, study from different sources on how to create a more expansive universe in your writing. If you're a visual-oriented person, a pinterest board will absolutely help you describe settings, events and characters. (read more on my personal approach on character description below)

Your rough draft doesn't need to be too long. Each chapter of BH started out as a couple paragraphs long, just a summary of what I wanted to write in each chapter. You can add whatever you like, though, even dialogues you can't get out of your head. Johnny and Simon's last lines in Ch 8 were the central piece of my rough draft for that chapter.

Writing

Now here comes the loooooongest part. Here's where you fill in the blanks of your rough draft. This is the moment when you open up all your sources, your thesaurus and dictionary, and go wild.

Character, setting and scene description gets stronger here. You could've started this part in the rough drafy - now amp it up to 100. Use as many words as you like - you will edit it later, don't worry.

Start setting the tone of your story here as well. BH has LOTS of suspense-filled moments, POV changes, and cliffhangers, mostly because that's my personal preference in readings. This is one source on how to write suspense (can't remember all the ones I looked up). Definitely research about different writing genres to see which one applies the best for your story, and set up the guidelines based on the advice from different sources. If possible, read other authors' works on the same genre you're aiming at to get a full picture of the things you should try, or try to avoid.

Take your time, if you feel stuck in one scene in particular, go on to the next one and go back to it with fresher ideas.

Editing

I don't usually spend a long time editing, but it's different for everyone. I recommend you find yourself a beta-reader who can read your story with a fresh mind and point out inconsistencies, grammar/syntax mistakes, etc. Beta-readers are the unsung heroes of writing. A good beta-reader will not only hype you up about how good your story is looking, but will also objectively help you fix anything that needs fixing, and may have escaped you during writing.

Now a few notes about character description that no one asked but I can't help it:

Fanfiction is great for beginner writers because you've already got a cheat sheet with characters that have already been created by someone else, and a fandom that fills in the blanks via headcanons.

When describing characters, I personally avoid physical descriptions like a plague, especially if that character is a reader insert or an OC. Physical description can sometimes behave like a box or a label that you put your character into and once they're there, they can hardly get out. I focus more on personality, feelings and emotions.

I also expand the character building throughout the story. Take Canary for example - you don't stop learning about her, her feelings, her emotions, her desires, her regrets, until the end of the story, and yet so much more was left unsaid. Also officer Melanie Kirk, you keep learning about what was she like even after she was gone from the story. Doesn't that make them feel more real? You never start learning about a person's character in real life anyway.

It got much longer than I expected, but I hope it helps! Happy writing!

[derschwarzeengel]

RP'ing with L 101

Consider this the sequel to RP'ing with Damon 101 for a few OOC things.

So, this is more of heads-up than anything. It's not meant to sound pretentious or critical; I'm only trying to be up-front here so you all know what you're getting into when roleplaying with me.

This post is kind of a place to gather my roleplaying pet peeves and things that will make me highly likely to drop a thread, unfollow, or not interact with/follow you in the first place.

If you have Johnny Depp listed as a banned FC but NOT Amber Heard, I automatically do not trust you and do not want to write with you.

God-modding, metagaming, or killing off my muse without discussing it beforehand (and yes, this is a form of godmodding). Furthermore, having your muse be overpowered to the point they’re a God-Mode Sue when there is no reason for said muse to be that powerful in canon AND/OR blatantly twisting Charmed canon when it comes to your muse’s abilities/species and how they work, to the point it obliterates willing suspension of disbelief to anyone else in the fandom is going to make me personally not want to write with you.

Your supernatural muse using their powers on Damon without discussing it OOC beforehand. (This falls under godmodding.)

If you are under the age of 18 but state you're okay with writing sex scenes and NC-17 gore. Nope. Do not pass "Go" to collect $200. It doesn't matter if you put it under a read-more and tag it; it is illegal under USA law for an adult (18+) to write sexual scenes with a minor or expose a minor to that kind of content (regardless of the ages of the fictional characters). If you are under the age of consent, you cannot legally write R-rated material with an adult roleplayer. And if you lie about your age solely to write sexytimes with my muse, then I will be the one held legally responsible and potentially face jail time, never mind that I did not know you were underage.

You don't cut your posts. I'm okay with scrolling past three or four replies to the same thread, but 10 - 20? Every single interaction of the roleplay for several notes thus far? Nope, I'm out of there.

Frequent posts about deleting your blog / self-harm / suicide / how nobody is writing with you, usw. More often than not, this is just a means of gathering attention, as I have seen people post things like this and then be online writing a few hours later like nothing happened. I am not your therapist, and I am not here for you to trauma-dump on. I will listen if we are mutuals that have been writing for a while, but do not ask me for advice. That is nowhere near my profession. I've also had an ex-mutual do this to me and other writing partners in the past, and I do not want to be in that situation again.

If you frequently post callouts or publicly engage in OOC drama, I am definitely not going to follow/interact with you. I have been on the receiving end of this from an ex-mutual, the call-out was complete bullshit, and when I did post a brief thing simply saying that I'd noticed it and my followers could come to their own conclusions, I was immediately sent harassment anons by this ex-mutual's friends. I refuse to go through that again.

For that matter, if you interact with magicrested and her clique, I am not going to write with you due to bad experiences with that group in the past, and I do not want to see any mention of them on my dashboard. (Yes, even with the Xkit blacklist.)

You frequently send me asks I have no idea how to respond to like "hi", " *waves* ", or "Do you want to rp?". I'm a roleplay blog; that's why I'm here. If you really want your muse to interact with mine, then send an in-character ask or write a starter and tag me in it. I promise, I don't bite (but Damon might). My tag is a nice place to be, honest.

I am not a fast roleplayer in churning out replies. Pestering me about thread replies is one of the quickest ways for me to drop you as a journal roleplay partner.

You state you're a roleplay blog but do not have a rules & bio/about page or link to a Google Doc/Carrd with information about your muse. If we are going to write together, I have to know something about your character and your own boundaries for writing / interacting. I get having a blog under construction, believe, me, I do, but you have to give potential roleplay partners something to go on.

You think fiction affects reality on a 1:1 ratio or think that a writer writing fucked-up situations for their character (or writing a fucked-up character in general who Does Bad ThingsTM) means the person behind the blog condones and endorses the thing IRL. That is 100% Anti rhetoric and a major red flag for me, especially if the character in question is a villain. It's also thinking that is absolutely, 200% steeped in evangelical Christianity, and being some form of marginalized in society IRL does not give you an excuse for being an asshole to real people over fictional characters.

Some other, quick things:

I am back to using the citrus scale to get around Tumblr’s NSFW ban, so any posts involving written smut will be tagged with #lemon cw. I use the tag #usfw for visual content.

I am not going to write the following on this blog:

Incest. Y’all that write it, you do you, but seeing prompts for/interactions with it on my dash squicks me out.

Mpreg. It’s just not my thing outside of specific circumstances / tropes. More specifically, I am not going to write things where Damon is the one knocked up, sorry not sorry.

*deep breath* Whew, okay, that should be everything. If you made it through all that, here, have an Internet cookie. You deserve it.

Blessed be!

— L-mun

[danny-chase]

if you want, maybe you could do "severed artery" with Dick and have Roy (or one of the other Titans) take care of him? love your writing and I hope you're having a nice day!

AHH thank you so much! I hope you enjoy!

Severed Artery - read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Titans (Comics), Nightwing (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Roy Harper & Dick Grayson Characters: Roy Harper, Dick Grayson, Garth (DCU), Donna Troy (minor) Additional Tags: Can be read as pre-slash, POV Roy Harper, POV Dick Grayson, vomitting, Blood, Guns, Hospitals, Canon-Typical Violence, dick is a little shit, Roy is a Little Shit, Homophobia, Roy Harper Needs a Hug, Roy Harper gets/gives a hug, Dick Grayson Whump, Roy Harper emotional whump, Protective Roy Harper, Hurt Dick Grayson, Garth is the best, Titans as family, Confused Dick Grayson, Medical Inaccuracies Series: Part 6 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Dick and Roy are little shits to each other, until the night takes a turn for the worse.

Full story under cut

“Aight, Donna, you ready to go?” Roy chirped, taking a second to look himself over in the mirror, running his fingers through his (surprisingly) soft hair (he’d be stealing Dick’s shampoo more often) – getting that perfect messy, but stylish look. He fired off finger guns at his reflection – he was killing it, somehow listening to Gar of people had worked out – he gave shockingly good fashion advice.

Feeling optimistic, he sauntered into the hall, only to be met with Donna’s confused expression.

“Roy, I’m going out with the girls tonight, I told you like four times.” She leaned against the wall, gesturing to Jesse and Toni, car keys dangling from her hand. Jesse stared at him, an eyebrow cocked judgmentally, as Toni smiled, offering a little wave. He waved back, watching Jesse’s expression morph into disapproval.

“Hey, I didn’t even do anything!” He complained, glaring at Jesse. She rolled her eyes, not deigning to verbally respond. Ice queen.

Reaching out, Donna patted his shoulder, waiting until he met her eyes. “I’m sorry, hun, but we’ve got tickets to a concert, could we go out next weekend?” She fluttered her eyelids slightly, sending chills up his spine. “Why don’t you take one of the boys with you?”

“Terrible company, but babe, have fun, I’ll figure something out.” He cupped her chin in his hand, leaning forward to peck a kiss to the top of her head, ignoring the fact she squatted down to make the moment work.

“Mm, thanks.” With that, the girls were off for the night, leaving him stranded in a deserted hallway.

Well. He could do what Donna suggested and take out one of the guys – he had the reservation, and Lian was already situated with the sitter. But which guy was the question… Wally was out with the league, Garth was visiting home, Vic was with Gar, and Grant had a date. Which left Dick – no - Dick was busy working – actually yes – he likely needed a break.

Actually – was he even here?

He started towards the central control room, poking a head in Dick’s room on the way and had to do a double take.

“You’re actually in <em>your room</em>?” Dick threw a pencil at him without looking up from his desk, child’s play to dodge – Dick speak for hmm, maybe something like ‘asshole’, but he took it as an invitation to enter. But if Dick was going to call him an asshole, he had expectations to live up to.

He took a standing leap, twisting and flopping across Dick’s immaculately made bed, sending blankets and pillows careening off the side. Dick ignored him, scribbling down some notes on a pad of paper. Roy waited for a few minutes, listening to the scratch of pen on paper. Quick and noisy – Dick was likely stressed – he was pushing down harder than normal; he gave it an eighty/twenty chance something was up.

Ripping paper proved him right, as Dick frustratedly crumpled up the page of notes, throwing them behind him, hitting the recycling bin with ease. Groaning, he dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes.

“Showoff.” Dick startled, jumping out of his chair, Roy’s own reflexes were the only thing that saved him from taking a pen between the eyes.

“What the fuck, Richard?!” He yelled, yanking the little missile out of the air. A faint flush tinted the top of Dick’s ears.

“I forgot you were there.” The admission was almost too quiet to hear, but combined with the minute sign of embarrassment, it rang of truth. Roy could milk this, oh he totally could.

“What was that, why did you almost kill me?” If he played his cards right, he wouldn’t be dining alone tonight.

“I didn’t think you were…” Dick trailed off, glaring at him. “You heard what I said.” He retorted, catching on. Sucks to suck, Dickie – he was obviously tired if that spooked him – he was likely running on caffeine.

“Oh, you misunderstand.” Scooching off the edge of the bed, he hopped lightly onto the balls of his feet. “Why’d the batboy forget I was there, hmm?” He pulled a half-eaten energy bar off the desk, inspecting the wrapper. Dick casually rocked back in his chair.

“See, completely decaf, I told you I’d-” Roy yanked open a drawer, Dick darting to stop him. “This is my desk!” He slammed the drawer shut a moment too late – Roy had good eyes after all.

“Hmm, so how do you explain the-”

“Get out, I have stuff to do – aren’t you supposed to be on a date with-”

“-CAFFIENE PILLS IN YOUR DRAWER!” He shouted through Dick’s response, effectively shutting him up. There’d been an intervention years ago after too many days spent on one hour or less of sleep. “You know the deal.” Dick groaned as he ruffled his hair.

“I have to-”

“Eat, shower, and sleep. And I have reservations. For two. You’re coming with me.” Ah yes, a romantic dinner date with Dick Grayson. People would kill for this. Dick crossed his arms. Roy picked up his chair, staggering towards the door. Dick was going whether he liked it or not, a real meal (not protein shakes or energy bars) would do him good.

“No one’s even done this to me in like, a year.” He noted, gracefully leaping out of the seat. “Asshole.” Grumbling he lightly punching him in the arm before heading into his walk-in closet, stripping off his shirt as he went. Automatically, Roy scanned for any new injuries, his eyes lingering over a few of the old.

“Liar, Wally caught you two months ago. Besides, the restaurant is nice, Donna likes it and you two are basically the same person, so you’ll love it.” Dick scoffed, stepping out of view.

“Is that all I am to you? Your replacement for Donna?” He sounded mildly offended.

“Nah, you’re too ugly to replace her.” Dick hmphed. “And your personality sucks.” Roy added.

“Why the hell am I going with you?”

“It’s not like your night could get any worse.” Dinner was better than casework after all.

Dick’s head poked out the doorway, looking completely unamused. “Asshole.” He chirped a second time, ducking back away.

Roy sat across from him, speaking between mouthfuls of pasta, smacking his lips together. “So anyways this kid, Johnny is like, sitting next to Lian in class, and he keeps taking her crayons and won’t give them back.” Dick thought for a moment, watching Roy drum his fingers rhythmically on the table. “And the teacher is being ridiculous, she just believes Johnny over Lian. My Lian! Can you believe it?” He slammed his fork down, articulating the point.

<em>And you’re sure Lian gave you the whole story?</em> Was what Dick wondered, but he’d prefer not to die for questioning Lian’s integrity tonight. “Why don’t you mark her crayons with a sharpie and let the teacher know?” Roy’s fingers stopped.

“Huh, hadn’t thought of that.” He leaned back in his seat, distantly looking out the window. People trickled down the street, passing by the little café, kicking up crimson leaves from half empty trees. Streetlights flickered on; fairy lights crisscrossing the avenue, as the sun lazily sunk in the sky. It was a beautiful night – Roy was right, he did love it, the food was good – catching up with Roy was refreshing – and the location was stunning; as always, Roy always picked the perfect places for dates. Dick was past the point of being annoyed at the situation but was still determined to give Roy a hard time.

“Well, maybe if you thought about that instead of harassing me.” He leaned forward, resting his head on his hand, dramatically looking out the window – Babs was going to kill him for being late with his case reports. Again. Roy smirked as he rocked forward, reaching across the table to lay a hand on his forearm. He at least had the decency to look apologetic.

“Look, you know the deal.” Brushing his thumb against his skin placatingly, he waited until Dick met his eyes. “You’re working full time, and have your nightly duties, and you’re with us.” His voice dropped, his nostrils flaring in irritation. “It’s not like you’ll leave Bruce alone any time soon either. Dick.” His eyes crinkled around the edges – concern. “You’ve got to start taking care of yourself.” Dick rolled his eyes; he was doing fine.

“You’re working with Ollie, you have a daughter, and you’re working with us, look I had one breakdown-”

“More than one-”

“-Only one that wasn’t the result of external influences.” Fuck Brother Blood for the other ones. “We made the caffeine deal after,” he grimaced reflexively “I broke up with Kory but, Roy.” He clasped Roy’s hand with his other hand reassuringly. “I promise I’m doing better now.” Tilting his head to the side, he cracked his neck. “Plus, you only brought me along because Donna was busy, that’s not what the deal was for.”

“Okay, maybe that was shitty of me, but it’s nice seeing you without the tights.” Roy flashed a winning smile. “Not that I don’t like seeing you in them, the new stuff looks great.”

“Oh, so I don’t look great now?” He teased. He’d picked out his brightest shirt for the occasion – a polo patterned after bowling alley carpet paired with the tightest red jeans he could find, and of course, a pair of heels borrowed from Donna. A single giant hoop earring dangled off his left ear. If he was going out with Roy, he wanted people taking pictures. Payback. This would be in the news tomorrow.

“Babe,” Roy lifted up his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “You look stunning.” He grinned goofily, seemingly happy to play along. Welp. If that’s how they were going to play it. He booped Roy’s nose, watching his pupils dilate. Dick recoiled in surprise – Roy wasn’t -

“Wait, you’re not actually-”

A scream cut him off, whirling around in his seat he saw a large man storming into the café brandishing a gun, his face red beet red and angry. He turned back, squeezing Roy’s hand, nodding towards the silverware.

“No-no one else move!” The guests around them stayed frozen in place. Three older ladies on their right, a family of four on their left (he guessed it was the young girl who screamed), and a couple across from them. The staff ducked behind the counter as people outside the restaurant scrambled away.

Dick raised his hands slowly. “I said no one move!” The gun pointed directly at him. Perfect.

“Okay, I won’t move.” He said steadily, watching sweat bead on the man’s head – he was nervous, his hands twitched uneasily on the gun – possibly his first time, and he kept muttering to himself. He watched Roy’s hand carefully creep towards silverware in his peripheral. “Do you want money? My father is rich.” Watching the man jitter about, he slowly stood up. Roy’s hand closed around the fork.

“Okay? You-you can get me money?” The man mused to himself, shifting his weight back and forth. He started lowering his gun, taking a step forward, he reached out his other hand. Dick took a few steps to the right, away from his chair, shifting attention away from Roy. “Okay the-”

*BANG* The world sped up around him, he rushed forward as the man fell-

*BANG* The man hadn’t even hit the ground – he was already dead – already-

“DICK-”

*BANG* Blood and brain matter poured out of the man’s head, someone was screaming, it didn’t need to-

*BANG*

“STOP!” Someone slammed into his side, and he hurtled to the ground. “HOLD YOUR FIRE!”

Roy’s face hovered above him. “Dick! You’re going to be fine.” His hands clamped napkins to his left shoulder, one on his front the other on his back – and shit – that was a lot of blood. “Hey, look at me.” Pain radiated out for the spot as Roy doubled the weight on the wound, blood seeping out past his fingers, waves pulsating in time to his heartbeat.

Cops burst in through the door, rushing to swarm the dead body. One glanced their way. “Oh shit, you hit the fa-”

“Fucking call an ambulance you dipshits!” Roy’s voice sounded farther away. “Slow your heart, fuck, do your Jedi weirdo bat tricks.” He hissed. Too late, sometimes, things happen too fast. “They hit an artery.” The blood wasn’t stopping, the napkin was soaked through, Dick felt himself slipping into shock. “Dick, stay awake!”

“Lo-ve y-ou.” He stumbled over the words as the world exploded – a million things happening at once – his thoughts scattering as black tinged his vision, overcoming everything.

Roy scrubbed his hands, pausing over the sink, watching the pink water rush down the drain, gurgling as it went. He rubbed a hand further, tackling the blood crusted over his elbow. He made a mistake of catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror –Dick’s blood was everywhere, coating his shirt, arms, pants, even some on his face. His stomach flipped, clenching tightly as he started to gag - fuck.

Throwing himself over the toilet, dinner rising back up in his throat, he threw up the seat. Shaking, he held himself over the porcelain toilet, fingertips staining it red, as he heaved. Soap bubbles dripped from his hands over the edge of the bowl, spattering on the ground.

Each drop spurred a recollection of the night’s events.

*Plop* The man was dead before he hit the grown, brain matter spattering the wall.

*Plop* A bullet whistled through the air, missing Dick by millimeters, lodging six inches next to the little girl’s head. He ran, screaming <em>“Dick!”</em>

*Plop* Blood sprayed out, a bullet ripping through Dick’s shoulder, as he kept moving towards the man.

*Plop* <em>“Stop!”</em> Tackling Dick out of the way, he screamed for them to stop, ripping napkins off a table and desperately trying to stop Dick’s life from slipping through his fingers.

He fell to his knees, a pit growing in his stomach spreading to his chest, rooting him to the spot. He curled his knees to his chest. Fuck. Dick had been shot before. But this? It was different. They weren’t in costume, they hadn’t been ready – the man hadn’t even shot anyone, only the bastard cops had.

<em>“Love you.”</em>

What kind of final words were those! He sat on the tile floor, banging his head into the side of the wall. Dick couldn’t die. Not because he forced him on some dumb dinner date! It wasn’t fucking fair!

His vision blurred, but he couldn’t do anything to stop the tears, unless he wanted blood in his eyes. Just – fuck. “FUCK!” His shout reverberated around the room. This was all his fault – he should have stayed home with Lian, guilt pooled in the bottom of his stomach. Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? Why’d he always have to have the last word? What was wrong with him!? Normal people didn’t antagonize each other like that!

The door creaked open. “Roy?” Garth called, the door squealing as it slowly opened. “Donna’s here too, are you ohhhhhhhhh-kay?” His jaw dropped, though he quickly recovered. Roy looked away, in a failed attempt to hide the tear tracks on his cheeks.

Garth stared at his hands. “That’s a lot of blood.” He muttered, his eyes darting around the room. “I mean, I brought you clean clothes.” He placed pair of sweats and a ratty t-shirt he’d stolen from Dick years ago on the counter. Roy’s eyes lingered on the shirt, no doubt the choice had been intentional.

The sound of rushing water cut through the silence, seeming to grow louder with each passing moment. Garth leaned back against the counter, hopping up next to the sink. “He’ll be fine.”

“Yep.” Dick was always fine. Always fine until he wasn’t.

“It’s not your fault.” Wrong.

“Debatable.” Garth frowned at the response but held his tongue. Instead, he let his head fall back against the mirror, staring up at the ceiling.

Softly, barely above a whisper, he continued. “I left you all alone for one day and this is how it ends up.” Roy bit his lip. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Guilt bubbled in the bottom of his stomach, and annoyance overcame him; they’d had these conversations before.

“Are you kidding me? I know what you want me to say. It’s not your fault – of course not. But then you’ll say ah but it’s not my fault either.” Angrily throwing his arms in the air, he continued, his voice growing louder. “And no – Garth – actually it is my fault!” He could feel the blood rushing to his face. “I’m the one who made him go to the restaurant. I’m the one was too late getting him out of the line of fire!” His voice resounded around the cramped room. He banged his head against the wall again. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do and thanks. But no thanks.”

Nonchalantly shrugging, Garth gestured to the water. “Wallowing here won’t make you feel less guilty. Apologizing when he wakes up will help, and I’m sure you’d prefer to be clean when the time comes.”

“Garth? Could you just…” He trailed off; anger quickly overcome by a wave of guilt. Shut up? Leave? Stop? He wasn’t sure, but he was sure he didn’t deserve whatever pity Garth was feeling. A wet paper towel smacked him in the face.

“Kick you in the rear so you’ll get off your sorry ass and clean yourself up?” Hopping off the counter, Garth strode over, lifting Roy by the elbow. “That’s not my style. But I’ll help you get cleaned up.” He let himself be dragged towards the running water, facing himself in the mirror once more, though this time he focused on Garth.

Sometimes Dick could swear he was actually a time traveler. Or maybe had latent teleportation abilities. Realistically, he’d probably just blacked out from blood loss or a concussion, but eh, that option wasn’t as fun. Blinking, he found himself in a familiar setting; a hospital room in a private wing, at – a clock ticked to his left, looking up – it was 4:19am.

He waited a minute, watching the clock turn to 4:20 - nice.

What was he doing again? How long was he out?

He struggled for a moment before remembering that he went out with Roy at 6pm last night, so he was out for… god math was hard. Six to twelve is six hours plus four, uh, ten hours and twenty minutes. Right. As long as it was the same day, he was set.

“Shit.” He promptly realized he couldn’t move his left arm. A sling. UGH. “Son of a-” he cut himself off, realizing he wasn’t alone in the room, Donna was gently snoring in a nearby chair, a little throw blanket covering her. The patterns had fish people… there was a word for that… mer-somethings-maids, mermaids. Mermaids – Garth – Garth was here, that was his blanket.

Dick scanned the room, checking for signs of life. Someone’s bag was on the floor, but he didn’t feel like expending the brain power to figure out who’s. Alright. He steeled himself. Now was the perfect time for escape.

The room spun as he sat up, turning around and round again before his eyes. Hah. Count Vertigo was way worse than this. Yep, head empty, room spinning, this was fine. Swinging his legs over the bed, an alarm blared next to his head.

“Fuck!” He jumped out of his skin, springing to his feet, in a defensive position. Well. He thought he did. The room was tilting on its side, the high-pitched noise shattering his thoughts. Instinctively, he tried to run.

“Woah there, shorty.” He found himself held by strong arms, the world turning once more. The familiar scent of Roy’s aftershave overpowered his senses. Distantly he was aware of the alarm turning off, his legs hitting the back of the bed. Roy’s face swam into view as he was guided back onto the bed, now propped up by soft pillows. So much for escape…

He closed his eyes, waiting for the rush of dizziness to pass. “Roy?” Warm arms wrapped around his torso, snaking tenderly around the sling. “What?” He mumbled - not that he was complaining, as he nestled his chin on Roy’s shoulder. He sighed contentedly, pressing his face into Roy’s stiff neck, closing his eyes and basking in the warmth.

For some reason, the wheels in his brain began turning. Roy. Dinner. Gunshots. His eyes shot open. “Fuck did you get hit, are you okay?” He pulled back, scanning Roy for injuries.

“I’m fine.” Roy facepalmed.

“What?”

“You got shot and you’re asking if <em>I’m</em> okay?” Roy shook his head, exhaustion clear in his voice. Dick looked at his sling again.

“I got shot?” It was like a piece of a puzzle clicking into place. “I got shot…” Wasn’t he supposed to be somewhere else? “How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to my boss?”

Sighing, Roy took a seat on the edge of the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why are you like this?” Turning, he looked Dick in the eyes. “Don’t answer that actually. Look, I’m sorry I made you go out to dinner.”

“Why? It was nice.” The food was good. Sputtering, Roy searched for words.

“Well. Don’t say I never apologized.” A little bit of a blush crept up his neck.

His mind abruptly recalled something he’d heard Roy saying to Lian. “Apologies come with hugs.” Roy rolled his eyes but moved closer anyways.

“You don’t even know why I’m apologizing.” He mumbled, brushing Dick’s bangs to the side. Dick grinned as Roy pecked his forehead, sweeping him into a second embrace. Two hugs in one day – that was a pretty good day. Roy’s fingers stroked through his hair, as Dick leaned into his muscular side, the world spinning slightly, though he’d found a solid rock to lean on.

[madefordvarka]

4, 11, 17, 25?

favorite character you’ve written

DEFINITELY Johnny Joestar, I love him so much. I feel that I really connect with him, and understand him as a character! I also absolutely love writing Wraith and giving her a bunch of complex little backstory bits and stuff.

what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

I think probably descriptions? Like, I think I've gotten better at describing emotions. I really hope to improve more with dialogue, though. I think I struggle with making it flow well.

if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

Just keep writing! Even if you think you're bad, people have told me how much they appreciate the content I've been bringing to the table, and the perspectives I have on the characters. I'm not really confident in myself, but I know especially for Wraith and Knight, people super appreciate how I write them.

copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of (This is long so I'll put under a cut, but I love this part...)

"Why do you do that?" Frost asked, fishing a flask of water from a small bag on her back, "Why do you try so hard to push me away?"

Her features pulled into a concerned frown, carefully drinking as not to jostle her injured arm. Wraith ignored how hurt she looked. She and the others treated each other like shit- they didn't care. They'd taunt each other because they could take it, and while she knew Frost could take it, too, it seemed like she wanted something from her. Like she was expecting her to treat her differently for some reason.

Or Wraith was becoming weak, and her feelings for Frost were showing through. She'd tried desperately to keep them hidden, but she knew how difficult it was becoming, and she didn't want to hide anymore- but it was for safety. It was safer for her to be alone, not to bother with anyone.

And why would anyone want to waste their time with her?

Wraith scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"What, you think you're special or something? That I'm treating you differently from the others?" She asked, gaze settling back into a glare, "I'm not interested in making friends, or having lunch, or any of that bullshit. I'm here to do my fucking job."

Frost reached up to wipe a tear from her eye, quickly returning her hand to her lap. Wraith couldn't read the emotions on her face, but she seemed quiet- like maybe Wraith had struck a nerve. Wraith was dying for Frost to take a swing at her, anything to distract her from whatever conversation Frost wanted them to have. Frost had a temper that was extremely easy to provoke. Anyone could rile her up with ease, but she had a different patience for Wraith.

"Then why do you look at me that way!" Frost yelled, as the sudden tone change caused Wraith to jump, "Why do you have so much sadness in your eyes when you get pissed off at me? Why did you sound so panicked when I got shot?!"

Fuck.

She had reacted strongly, in Frost's defense. In the heat of the moment she hadn't realized it, but she screamed out Frost's name when the bullet had got her. She didn't know the severity yet, and the thought of losing Frost killed her. It ripped and tore at her insides, making her stomach churn, and head spin. She was so far into the hole with her feelings, it felt stupid to even try to deny them.