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irisinthemoon · 11 months

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Until I Found You, Pt. 7

[Part. 1], [Part. 2], [Part. 3], [Part. 4], [Part. 5], [Part. 6], [Part. 7]

Hey guys! I am so sorry for not updating in such a long time! I actually had this sitting on my drafts for a while but hadn't been to find the time to edit much less to post it. Since I already graduated high school and summer vacation has started, I finally found some time to write the next few chapters along with posting this one. I will try to write as much as I can considering that I will start College in August and I am not sure how much time I will have on my hands.

P.S. To the one who assumed I was dead, I am alive! Hahaha! But that message you sent did make my day. I had a good laugh for a while after reading it.

Summery: The festival is about to start and with that, the NRC students will finally see what has happened to their two companions.

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“Sorry for the inconvenience, I had to deal with a few issues before coming here.” Professor Trein explained. His tone was soft but stern, giving Rollo the impression that the man was someone who was soft but also tough when needed be. “It’s alright Professor Trein, we are just glad that you were able to make it before the last performance.”

Just as Eliott had said, the professor would have managed to make it before the closing performance. To which he could see the older man was glad for. “I thank you. I also hope my students and charges haven't given you too much trouble.”

“None at all, I am glad to have been able to talk to them while we are here.”

It was a lie, Rollo found them quite repulsing. Always relying on magic to save the day, showing it off without any self restraint. Not to mention that darn purple cat that kept sending him mocking smirks each time their eyes locked.

“Then I am glad.” Guiding the professor to one of the chairs, Rollo then gestures for the other students to follow along. Taking his seat, Professor Trein furrowed his eyebrows when he noticed the lack of two of his charges. “May I ask, where are Shroud and Leblanche?” Once again, Jules jabs Eliott who had snorted.

“It seems that both of them were taken by these ‘hunters’.” Answered Malleus, still looking confused about the whole ordeal. At this, the professor’s eyes widened in disbelief. He turns to look at Rollo for confirmation. “Yes, we had been on our way to the battle arena so that we wouldn’t run into them. Unfortunately, they had catched on and took Idia and Neige.”

“Will they be alright?”

“Yes, this is a small tradition the City of Flowers has. Once the opening ceremony is over, we will be able to recover your companions.”

Deuce lets out a dejected sigh. “They will miss the performance then…” This time, it is Rollo who jabs Eliott on the ribs to stop him from snorting. “Worry not, they will have front row seats to it.” Said Jules with a serene (evil) smile.

He had explained the event as best as he could without revealing the reason as to why they needed to capture two people. Seems like he wanted to make them wonder, or just make them worry more than they already were.

“Is that what they meant by choosing two ‘special and esteemed’ guests?” Asked Ruggie, ears twitching at the noise the crowd was making. Eliott nods, he still looked like he wanted to laugh but was keeping it together. “You can say that, but as Jules had said, they will in no way shape or form be harmed.”

That seemed to settle the professor’s worries.

Taking a seat, Rollo lets himself relax for a moment. Soon he will be able to see you, then once the tour is over with, he and you would be able to relax and spend some time together before his duties get in the way. A nudge from his left snapped him out of his thoughts, turning to face Jules, he gestured for him to speak.

“You alright? Earlier, when Chen’ya was talking to you, you got this angry and moody look on your face. Did something happen?” His peach-haired friend asked, eyes lingering at the cat beast-man who was off talking to Riddle. “Everything is fine, just trying to get on my nerves.” Much like every student that had come as guests since stepping foot into Nobel Bell. Eliott didn’t look convinced, a concern frown on his lips.

“Do you need us to take over the touring?” Adds Jules from his right, red eyes casting a glance at Azul, who had been looking at them. In a lower voice he said, “We don’t mind, you can spend your day with [name].”

Shaking his head, Rollo puts his hand up in order to stop them from talking. “It’s fine, it’s my duty as student council president to show our guests around.” His eyes lock with Azul’s, who simply gives him a kind smile. One that makes him curl his lip in disgust. Covering his face again with his purple handkerchief, Rollo looks away. “Plus, I promised her she could join us. She wants to meet Yuu and Grim.”

If he could, he would have left the whole ‘greeting guests’ thing off to the welcome committee. They always took care of these kinds of things, but since he had been the one to request for the NRC and RSA students to come here, and so he must be the one to show them around. The City of Flowers hardly let anyone enter, especially when it came to the academy. Only those who got the invitation to attend the academy could get in without a problem.

And those who didn’t go to the academy, had extended family here, or were on business trips, had to get special permission from the chief in charge of the city. Rollo had to play his part, that meant spending time with the guests as much as it killed him. He couldn’t let Jules��s hard work in trying to convince the chief in letting a few guests in, down the drain.

And the idea of just leaving the two other people that he tolerated at best (no matter what you said, he will not call them friends. The Great Seven know Eliott and Jules will tease him about it relentlessly.) to deal with this hot mess of students. Though, he could say Neige and Yuu were about the only decent ones from the group. And yet, Neige’s unnatural kindness sent a shiver down his spine.

No one should be that kind.

Before any of the two began teasing him about letting you join them, the loud sound of trumpets cut them off. The familiar rhythm of the drums and trumpets make the crowd instantly cheer, and causes him to sit straight, paying full attention into the arena where a bunch or performers come out dressed as villagers. Jules and Eliott instantly quiet down, eyes eager to see the last performance. Much like Rollo, both had been looking forward to seeing you perform.

“Maybe you've heard of a terrible place where the scoundrels of Paris Collect in a lair.”

The ‘villagers’ began singing in union, walking at the beat of the trombone. The crowd also began to clap along with the beat, some of them even joining on the singing. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the way Epel nodded along.

“Maybe you've heard of that mythical place of the Court of Miracles!”

The giant double doors of the battle arena opened up, and in came you strolling on top of Snowflake, a dark red, white, and black jester dress, a matching hat and mask on your persona. You were sitting sideways, guiding the black stallion as he did the mini dance moves with the beat of the music. Your lips were painted a dark deep red, set on a smirk as your eyes looked over the crowd.

“Hello, you're there!”

Your voice mixed in with the rest of your companions and crowd, causing even more cheering. A mixture of amazement and surprised gasps could be heard from the other students. Rook was smiling, a light blush on his face, and Rollo remembered something the third year had told him when he had introduced himself. About being the protector of beauty. Guess Rollo can agree with him on you being beautiful, no matter what you wore or how you presented yourself, you were always breathtaking.

“Where the lame can walk and the blind can see!”

The stallion makes a stop in front of Rollo and his charges. You smirk at them, looking as proud as he felt. “But the dead don't talk, so you won't be around to reveal what you've found!” Your voice was full of joy as you sang, making sure to cast each of the guests a look of mischief before grabbing a bunch of bead festival necklaces from your satchel and throwing it at them.

Sebek lets out an unceremonial shriek, trying to prevent the necklaces from finding a way to Malleus’s horns. Silver catches three of them, a black, green, and aurora one. His eyes stare at you, a small amused smile on his lips as he slips the green one on Sebek, places the aurora one on himself and gives the black one to Malleus. Who smiles, (Rollo gagged a bit), and slips it on, glad to be included in the whole thing.

Azul, Jamil, and Ruggie each have a yellow, maroon, and blue one around their necks, joy filled smiles that don’t scream irritation or shadiness. Deuce holds a red one for Riddle who takes it with a smile as he gives a blue one to Deuce in return. Epel is already wearing a deep rich purple one, matching with Rook.

Yuu is smiling, laughter escaping his lips as he slips a bright blue necklace on Grim’s neck, the boy matching with his companion. Chen’ya laughs, seeming to make it his mission to catch as many necklaces as he can while wearing five different colors around his neck.

Grabbing one that had got caught on his chair, he hands it to Professor Trein, who mumbles a thanks as he continues to watch the performance.

“We have a method for spies and intruders rather like hornets protecting their hive. Here in the Court of Miracles, where it's a miracle if you get out alive!”

This time, you sing along with the crowd and performers. Some of the students begin singing along with you while clapping to the beat of the song. Jules waves his pointed finger while singing, Eliott claps, a bright smile on his face. Rollo huffs in amusement but even he couldn’t fight off the tiny smile as he watched you gain more confidence with each step and word.

A softer tone takes place after singing the last part, and on cue the five jesters that had cornered them appear in multiple purples of smoke. The leader, Yellow Jester, takes a deep bow as she waves to the crowd. Smirking when her eyes landed on the group. Deuce and Epel gasp and point at them, eyes wide in recognition.

Yellow jester laughs as they look confused as begins following you and Snowflake with a jump to her step. Jules and Eliott both cover their mouths to prevent from full blown laughing, both already knowing that the moment the music picks up on its usual beat, they will be in for a surprise.

“Now! Bring forth the intruders who dare step into our Court Of Miracles!” Your voice is booming, bringing everyone to pay attention to you. The Yellow jester laughs while taking a deep bow. “Why yes! We must bring the criminals in for you to judge!” With an elegant twirl, she points at Purple Jester and Blue Jester, “You heard our esteem Judge! Bring forth the intruders!”

“She’s the judge?!” Exclaimed Epel. A few of the other students are just as shocked as he is. “But, what does she mean by intruders?” Asked Jamil, looked once again guarded. “Did we break a rule by accident?” Adds Azul, eyes focusing on the crowd.

Before they could keep asking, the music picked up pace, and in came the answer they had all been seeking. Coming in, tied up with rope and white pieces of cloth covering their mouths, were Idia and Neige. Though, Neige looked a little more composed than Idia did.

“What are they doing there?!” Riddle and Deuce both yelled at the same time.

Professor Trein looked shocked, but from his lack of action, Rollo assumed he already knew what this was. “Holy- Idia looks like he is about to piss his pants!” Grim laughs as Yuu tried to scold him, worry in his brown eyes. “That is if he hasn’t already!” Adds Ruggie, a mocking laugh leaving his lips.

“Justice is swift in the Court of Miracles, I am the lawyers and judge all in one!” You sang as you trotted towards the two rope bound students who were now on their knees. Idia shrieks, his cry muffled as he stares at you, bugged eye. From his point of view, it looked like the grim reaper had comed to take his soul. Neige flinched a bit, but schooled his expression. He knew you weren’t going to hurt them, but he will admit. It was intimidating watching you reach them with that huge horse.

“We like to get the trial over with quickly because it's the sentence that's really the fun!”

In a flurry of movements, you pull Snowflake away and reach to pet the two of them The gentle tap you give them caused Idia to flinch and Neige to tilt his head on confusion. You laugh at this, sharp and mocking. Rollo’s chest fills with pride, honestly, he can see why they chose you to be the main act this year. You truly were amazing.

“Any last words?”

Idia begins shaking back and forth furiously, his muffle shrieks being heard even from where Rollo was sitting. Neige’s are a lot more tame, but you could see the way he is suitably struggling in. You smirk once again and pull away, “That's what they all say.” That just makes Idia panic even more.

“Now that we've seen all the evidence-!” One of the jester boys sings before being sharply interrupted by one of the ‘villagers’. A young woman dressed in a plain beige dress raised her hand, and from his left, he heard a multitude of sighs of relief from the other student. Eliott snorted, holding his stomach of all the laughing he had done.

“Wait! I object!”

“Overruled!” You yelled back.

“I object!”

“Quiet!” You yelled again, fake frustration in your voice.

“Dang!” Said the woman softly as she lowered her hand down. The crowd laughs, cheers going around the battle arena.

“We find you totally innocent, which is the worst crime of all…” You sang sadly while holding a hand over your heart, Snowflake’s reins in your other hand. In union, the other jesters follow, with exaggerated frowns on their painted lips. Riddle furrows his eyebrows, “What does she mean that they are innocent and then say that it’s one of the worst crimes?”

Professor Trein chuckles, shaking his head. This causes his students to look at him in confusion. Malleus tilted his head, a small smile on his lips, he looked confused but he was still enjoying himself. Rollo rolled his eyes, the prince looked ridiculous with those colorful necklaces around his neck. (Sebek had made it his personal mission to collect as many as he could for Malleus when he saw how happy it made him wearing one.)

“So you're going to hang!” You and the crowd sang, full of cheer as you raised your hand into the air and bowed as much as you could while riding Snowflake.

Rollo had been prepared for two types of reactions: One, the cheers of the crowd as they all agreed with your ‘choice’ while also clapping. (That was the majority of the crowd). Two, the gasps of shock and horrified yells from the students he was with as they all objected with your ‘choice’.

Rollo has a tiny smirk on his lips, Eliott and Jules laughing out loud on either side of him. Professor Trein laughed lightly, shoulders shaking from the reaction of his students. Chen’ya also laughed, eyes watching the chaos unfold. Then there were the loud shrieks of Idia as they dragged him out and back into the double doors he had come out of. Neige had a look of realization when he looked into the crowd, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.

Turning to Rollo and his group, you smirk and bow.

“W-Wait! I am sure we can think of something to help them!” Deuce and Epel tried to hold you back by calling out to you. Their voices coated with panic for their two upper-classmen. You turn back to face them, a haughty smirk on your lips. Placing a finger up to your lips is a quiet motion, you winked at them before fully turning around and guiding Snowflake into the double doors.

The five jesters all bowed to the crowd, then in a purple cloud, vanished just as the double doors to the battle arena closed. The crowd went wild, cheers could be heard in every direction as people clapped and hooted. All of them were overjoyed at the performance, for it meant that the long week festival had officially begun.

Clapping along with the crowd, Rollo smiled. It was small, and barely even visible unless you really looked into it. Professor Trein and Chen’ya cheered along, each wearing a different smile. Jules and Eliott hooted, calling out your name as they cheered. The other students all stared in a mixture of confusion, and a little worried at the fate their two other companions may bear.

Clearing his throat, Rollo stood up from his chair and gestured for the others to do the same. “It’s best if we leave now, before the crowd gets rowdy.” Both his secretary and vice-president follow his lead, Professor Trein nods and tells his students and charges to do the same. There are some who voice their disagreement in just leaving, worried over their two companions. Rollo sighs, a little irritated but lets Professor Trein handle them as they make their way out.

“Worry not, they are both fine.” Said the older man, “This is all part of the tradition here in the City of Flowers.” At this, Riddle and Azul perk up. “Tradition?” Asked Azul, casting a glance at Jules who looked away, an innocent smile on his lips. The group continues to walk away from the crowd, following Rollo as he moves swiftly through the bodies of people. “Yes, I will explain it as we go to retrieve Shroud and Leblanche.”

Rollo was thankful he didn’t have to deal with them anymore. With a sigh, he continues to walk, Jules and Eliott both laughing at his side.

______

Just as you mounted off Snowflake, you heard a shriek so loud that it startled your stallion. Quickly, you began mumbling words of comfort so the black stallion won’t run off like he had done months prior to getting scared by one of the students by accident. Frowning, you hand Snowflake to one of the stable boys and head to wear you could hear the shrieking and sobbing.

A multitude of the performers surrounded two people, the two that had been selected by the hunters you notice, and it seemed like they were trying to calm down the one with blue fiery hair. For a few seconds, you stare at the boy in amazement. Not once in your stay here had you seen someone with that kind of hair. It looked incredibly beautiful and unique, it brought a smile to your face.

The boy let another sob, breaking you from your trace. Clearing your throat, you quickly maneuvered yourself around the bodies and into the center where the boy was crying. “Is everything alright?” You asked. And in an instant he turned to face you so quickly that you feared he would snap his neck by the speed he had used.

“YOU!” The boy lunged at you, and having little time to react, both of you landed on the ground. You yelp in surprise and pain from the landing as the boy clung to you, babbling in both fear and anger. “I HAVE DONE NOTHING TO DESERVE THIS!” You wince at the volume of his voice. Two of the girls nearby tried to help you off the ground while another two did their best to remove the crying boy from you. “THIS IS WHY I NEVER GO TO NORMIE EVENTS! I END UP GETTING KIDNAP ONE WAY OR ANOTHER!”

You tried to calm him down, confusion and worry mixed together as you did your best to soothe his worries. But every time you tried to push him away he would hold you tighter as if you were a lifeline. “Idia! Please let them go! They don’t mean any harm!” Your eyes glanced towards the honey voice. If you weren’t stuck in this situation, you would have gasped at how pretty the boy looked.

“FIRST IS THE DAMN GHOST BRIDE NOW I WILL END UP WITH MY HEAD ON A NOSE BEFORE I MAKE IT TO PREMIER OF MY FAVORITE ANIME!” Tears and snot left the boy, some of it smearing onto your outfit. Had it been anyone else or any other situation, you would have been angry, after all, the dress wasn’t even yours.

The ravenette went to help the two other girls pull Idia away from you, his voice calm and collected as he did so. With the help of one of the performers, you stood up and dusted away the dirt off your outfit. After making sure that the snot could be washed off, you turn back to the crying boy. Taking off the mask, you gave it to the performer that helped you and walked towards Idia and the pretty boy.

The ends of Idia’s hair were turning red the more he struggled from the grip the others had on him. “Thank the seven that we casted a magic nullification spell on him.” Anna, the yellow jester said, eyes wide as he watched Idia struggle even more. “We would have been dealing with more than screaming and shouting.”

You could only imagine. If the boy was like this without any magic, you wondered what he would do if he could cast spells. Without thinking, you rubbed the magical ring on your right hand. It was much like the ones the student at Nobel Bell wore, the only difference was that it wasn’t for casting magic, but for protection. Something Rollo had given you with the persimmon of the Headmage.

“Did you guys inform him of why he had been taken away?” You asked, looking at her with serious eyes. She looks away, a nervous smile on her lips. “About that…they are two of the many guests President Flamm invited.” At this you stare at her in disbelief. “Why would you take two of his guests?!” More importantly, how did they manage to take them if Rollo was there?

“He gave us the ok! I swear [name]! We asked before we even took them! If he had said no, we would have just taken Jules and Eliott!”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Idia’s shouts were starting to gather more attention. “I’ll go deal with him. Go and find Rollo, we don’t want more attention on us.”

“You sure?” Asked Anna, eyes casting a worry look towards the fighting Idia. You nod, “Yeah, I’ll calm him down and explain why he had been dragged here.” Anna sighs but compiles. Leaving you with two of Rollo’s guests along with the other girls helping you, you sigh again and put on your best smile.

Thank the seven you knew how to put on a good act, even under pressure.

“Hey! I am so sorry for the misunderstanding!” You raised your voice in order to be heard from all the yelling and shouting. Idia halts his struggling, yellow eyes looking at you with small tears. “We will not hurt you,” you added softly, “So please, stop shouting. The horses are getting agitated and if you keep making too much noise they will try to get out and possibly hurt others and themselves.”

As if to make a point, Snowflake huffed. The stable boy you had given your stallion to shrugged at your questioning look. “I tried taking him back but he refused to move.” Snowflake huffed again in agreement. Shaking your head, you turn back to look at Idia and begin walking towards him. “Look, they will unhand you but you need to calm down. It’s a lot to ask, especially when you don’t know why you are here in the first place.”

Idia squints his yellow eyes, suspicion in them as he slowly puts his hands on his sweater pocket. Something blue flashed from the corner of your vision, but before you could get a quick look, it was already gone.

“...Fine…”

With a multitude sighs of relief, the girls unhand him. Some give him a small glare while others give him a sympathetic smile. They all leave except the pretty boy and your horse who the stable boy decided to tie up before taking his leave. If you could read his thoughts, you would almost bet that he was having a good time witnessing whatever was about to happen.

Smiling once more, you gesture for the two boys to take a seat on the nearby bench. “Now, take a seat. I will explain everything. But before we begin, my name is [Name] [Last name]. I am a first year student at Noble Bell College.”

“Nice to meet you, again, sorry for the inconvenience.” The raven hair boy spoke, a sweet smile on his rosy lips. “My name is Neige Leblanche and the person next to me is Idia Shroud.” He gestures to the flame haired boy. “Well, I do apologize, Idia and Neige.” Standing up, you offer a light bow. “I didn’t know that both of you hadn’t been informed about the stunt we pulled.”

In all honesty you thought Rollo would have explained it to them the moment they arrived in order to avoid a situation like this one. Especially to people who didn’t know a single thing about the week long masquerade. You had known about it since you would be part of the act, and Rollo had warned you in case you were chosen as the ‘intruder’ and if you put yourself in their shoes, they had every right to act the way they were.

“It’s alright! Every place has their own traditions! We should have done more research about the City of Flowers before coming, so that is a mistake on our part.” Reassured Neige as he gestured you to sit down. Idia frowns, a scowl taking place on his face. “Doesn't excuse the fact that Flamm didn't even give a warning…"

You laughed nervously, between you and Rollo, no one knew of the childish streak the third year had. While he remained mature and a role model student in the public face, Rollo was a whole other person when he was behind doors. Much like Jules and Eliott, he tended to cause mayhap and chaos. Many times, he enjoyed watching it while laughing. This was one for those moments. And perhaps it was karma considering that you tended to join his little misadventures.

"I'm sure he wanted to warn you but hadn't been given enough time…hunters do tend to appear out of nowhere."

"Now that you mentioned it, he had been in a hurry to get us to the battle arena." Thank the seven for Neige! You nod enthusiastically. "See? He probably couldn't explain it on time!"

"He had more than enough time! We spent nearly all morning with him!" Exclaimed Idia, anger clear on his face. You gulp, "I'm sure Rollo didn't want to spoil the surprise!" Neige (bless his soul) quickly came to the rescue. "Yeah! Many of the students in our group had questions and he had been there to answer them. Plus, even with Jules and Eliott helping him, he still had a handful!"

Idia shot Neige a small glare but didn’t say anything back. Taking this as an opportunity, you spoke up again. “Well, then let me make up for it!” Clapping your hands together, you shot them a smile. “Now, let me start by explaining the reason you two were stuck as this years’ intruders.”

With that you launched off to a very long, and hopefully not so boring explanation.

The whole tradition started off in honor of the Court Of Miracles, a place rumored to house people who were hiding from the monsters that used to roam the City of Flowers. The place could only be found by a special map and only a few selected had ownership of said map. While the place may have been hard to find, it didn’t mean that it was impossible.

Many times, monsters and people with the wrong intentions would try to intrude the place, and in order to keep it safe along with the people living there, a few fellow jesters would capture them and execute them. The leader of the group of jesters was often referred to as the Judge while the other five jesters would be called the hunters.

The Judge would be the one to take care of dealing the final order while the five hunters would do the capturing. That was how they managed to keep the place safe for so long. That was until two people had come. They were about to be executed if it hadn’t been for a young woman who knew them and concluded that they were no threat to the Court of Miracles. Because those two people were in fact friends of the young women and they wanted to help the fair judge, the one who wanted freedom for the City of Flowers, in defeating the monsters.

Hence, they had earned the privilege of leaving and entering in exchange for help. And so, in order to make sure people remember the bravery of the people, the people in the City of Flowers made it a tradition to start off the festival with the song and performance. Which also included having two intruders and a Judge who guided five jesters.

But the citizens wanted to add a twist to it in order to make it fun and memorable. Instead of just choosing the two intruders like how they chose the Judge and jesters, they decided to select the two remaining people on the day of the festival by capturing two unsuspected people and bringing them forth.

“And that is why Rollo didn’t stop them from taking you, he knew the two of you wouldn’t be in danger.” You finish off your explanation by doing a last attempt in saving some face for Rollo. Neige clapped his hands at your performance while Idia just looked even more perplexed. “And people agreed this was a good idea?!” He asked after a minute or two.

“Well, many liked it! And many more hope to get chosen for it!”

“What is so good about being kidnapped?!”

You did your best to hold in a sigh of frustration. Instead, you shot him a bright smile, one you were sure looked forced but no longer cared. “The reason many hope to get picked is this.” Holding the object up, you showed them the prize. Neige gasped at it, eyes shining with curiosity while Idia just looked even more done.

“...A dream catcher necklace…?”

“Don’t give me that look!” Huffing you began explaining, again. “Remember the map I mentioned that led to the Court of Miracles? This is a mock imitation of it. It’s not the real thing, no one knows how it actually looked liked.”

Giving one of the two necklaces to Neige, you continued. “Much like the rumored map, this one is a map of the city. It will show you different locations and what not. The catch to it however, is that you will have to figure out the locations yourself, once you do, a prize will be given. You have until the end of the week to figure it out.”

Idia takes the necklace you offered, yellow eyes looking it over with hidden curiosity. He no longer looked angry, which was a win for you. “It’s like a scavenger hunt?” Asked Neige. You nod, “You need to find the locations on the map, once you do, it will glow, meaning that the location has been found. It should be about ten locations each.”

“And the prize?” Idia mumbled, eyes still glued to the necklace. “Ah…about that, I don’t have a clue as to what it is.” This time, his yellow eyes trained on you, brows furrow. You smile nervously. “From what I heard, not a single person has been able to find the actual prize. Many get close but the last location is the one that no one is able to find.”

From what Eliott and Jules had told you, when they had been selected as the intruders during their first year, both had worked together in order to find all the locations. That had helped them cover most of their base in three days, letting them have the rest of the week to figure out where the last location was. Yet no matter how much either of them looked, they couldn’t figure it out. Even with Rollo’s help, both didn’t manage to finish the quest.

It was the same for past students who were picked, not one was able to find the last location.

“Huh…now that sounds interesting.” A sudden sharp smile appeared on Idia’s face as he began to giggle. You stare at him confused and a little worried. Neige didn’t seem affected by it, but he did share the same enthusiasm as Idia. More or less.

“And people can help you with this right?” Asked Neige. “Yep, since the locations switch up every year, asking for the old ones won’t work but you can receive assistance.” Pointing at the little purple jewels on the string, you explain further. “No one is in charge of placing the locations. The ones who do are the stones here, I have no clue where they come from though. All I know is that they chose the locations and once you finish with it, you give it back to the Headmage.”

Idia hums, he runs his fingers through the small diamond beads. Neige does the same, though he looks more joyish that Idia, who still has that sharp smirk. You don’t question it nor do you point it out. This was better than having Idia panic.

Anyways, the important thing was that there was no more noise and the people with their horses could pass by without fearing that the horses would act out. Plus, Anna would be here with Rollo soon, though, looking at your outfit you grimace. You could feel your sweat sticking to the fabric of the outfit. You wanted to go take a quick shower and change to the school’s female uniform. The robes would be getting in your way, especially when you planned to walk around with Rollo for the day. And from the looks of it, the warm weather may get a bit more warmer. While you preferred pants over anything else, the skirt of the female uniform will allow for easy movement and it will keep you cool.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Anna to come back with Rollo. Standing up from your position, you greeted the third year. Without sparing a single glance at the two other boys, he made his way to you, a worried frown on his face. Grabbing your face in a gentle grip, he pulls you close. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. A little tired from the performance but nothing I can’t deal with.”

He still looked unconvinced, placing your hands on top of his own, you gave him a confident look. “Really, I am fine. Plus, I had Anna get you since Idia was panicking.” Gesturing towards the blue haired boy, who was too busy looking at the dreamcatcher necklace. “I managed to calm him down, but I didn’t want to leave them alone, especially when he is one of your guests.”

Sure, you could have asked one of the performers to stay with both Neige and Idia but you also felt a little guilty at scaring them. It would be better for you to wait and explain the situation than leave and let someone else deal with Idia’s outburst. Rollo sighs, annoyance clear in his green eyes as he looks at the smirking boy. “I heard he had tackled you.”

“Ah, yeah but I didn’t get hurt. He was just panicking and it’s understandable considering that he got taken away without any context.”

Rollo avoids your gaze at your pointed look. “...The hunters got there before I could explain.”

“Anna said that you gave them the ok to take two of the guests.”

“...”

Shaking your head, you sigh, a little smile on your face. It’s not like you could blame him for not telling them. Much to everyone's surprise (except you) Rollo tended to be a bit mischievous and just like any other teenager, he enjoyed pulling little pranks on others. Of course, he did this when no one was looking or when he knew it wouldn’t harm others. Most of the time, you helped him with it.

Like last month, you had helped him get back at Eliott and Jules for teasing him. It had started with Rollo admitting that he had a fondness for banana milk. Both boys had teased him for a while, it was unexpected for someone like Rollo to like something so sweet. Rollo had enough of it at some point and with your help, both of you plotted how to get back at both of your friends. Till this day, Eliott and Jules both still have glitter in their hair.

“Ah, Rollo! I do apologize for the earlier outburst. It had taken us by surprise.” Neige spoke up, brown eyes on the both of you. Startled, Rollo pulled away from you and regarded the raven head boy with a nod. “Yes, I also apologize. I had intended to explain to you all the traditions we have here but I hadn’t made it on time.”

Idia snorted, yellow eyes casting a glare at the third year but didn’t comment anything. “It’s alright, you wanted to have the element of surprise.” Once again, you thanked Neige. He was doing his best to convince Idia that it had been all harmless fun. Though, Idia didn’t look very convinced at all. Clearing his throat, Rollo gives them both a nod.

“Right, I will be taking you back to the group. They are waiting by the entrance of the battle arena.” He then turns to you. “Will you be joining us?”

“I will, I just need to take a quick shower and change my clothes.” Twirling in your jester outfit you show it off. “I don’t wanna walk around in this. Not that it is a bad outfit, but I am not used to dressing up like this.”

Halting, you fully look at the pale boy. His face was a little red from what you could tell. He was hiding his face behind his infamous purple handkerchief but you could see the tip of his ears turning red. “R-Right…then we will wait for you in the city.”

Nodding, you agree with him before turning your attention towards the two other boys. Both were staring at the two of you. Neige with a small soft smile and a knowing look in his eyes. Idia looked a little annoyed but also had a look of longing. You didn’t question it, whatever was going on was their own deal. “Then, I will join you all later!”

With a bow, you waved to them goodbye, then, without thinking much, pressed a chaste kiss on Rollo’s cheek. You left the stables without looking back, a silly smile decorating your lips.

#twst x reader #twst masquerade #twst nbc #twst rollo x reader #twst x y/n #twst wonderland #rollo flamm x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst rollo

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chartreuse-goose · 2 years

Text

will AND mike getting vecna’d

this post has been in my drafts, gathering dust for a while now. over time, i’ve kept finding information solidifying my opinion on this. and, once i solidify any opinion, it will be shared!

today i am going to delve into why i believe both will AND mike will be vecna’d together next season. and i do mean “delve.” this theory is going to be quite in-depth.

i’d say it all started here.

literally how is this a line that was just thrown in. how.

i’ve seen variations of “i have no idea what’s gonna happen next, but…” spoken in film & television before. it’s one of those lines that is never just casually written in. ever. so, no matter how the line may be delivered by its actor, know it is ALWAYS foreshadowing something intense.

of course characters aren’t meant to know their fate! that’s a given in life, nobody is. so when a character full on STATES their uncertainty? terrifying. that character’s fate is about to be greatly jeopardized.

one could easily say “what’s gonna happen next” was the government raiding the byers home. this makes sense. the extremity of the situation matches the extremity of the line.

but will and mike didn’t necessarily “work together as a team” there. that half of mike’s line was the emphasized half. we know this because that’s the part everyone naturally focuses on.

throughout season 4, throughout both volumes, i do not feel as if mike and will “[worked] together as a team” to an extent that would’ve required that extreme of a foreshadowing. i guess you could say that will’s confession led to mike’s confession and they therefore “worked together” to save el. still, i really don’t think that’s the “teamwork” the writers were hinting at.)

this is why i believe that “i have no idea what’s gonna happen next” hasn’t happened yet.

as i’ve been going on & on about so far, “what’s gonna happen next” needs to be intense, potentially even life-threatening intense.

hmmm….

and we already know a character who is destined to find his way here next season (at least to some capacity). i’m not going to say who because i don’t have to! these two pictures will:

now let’s move onto the cabin scene, our last heart-to-heart with mike and will.

i already have a post discussing the scene’s lighting and how, while GORGEOUS, it isn’t necessarily foreshadowing something positive. the beams of light very closely resemble the vecna/creel house beams of light.

in the post, i wasn’t really considering what mike was saying though. mostly just his stage directions.

again with the teamwork!!!!!!

“we!!!”

mike is saying this line AS he moves his hand into the vecna light.

i truly, truly believe that what mike doesn’t know is “gonna happen next” is him being vecna’d with will.

oh and causeineedu’s tiktok mentioning the two sitting on an upside down couch even further supports my theory of mike & will “working together as a team” in the upside down. causeineedu, i don’t know if you’re a tumblr byler, but if you are and you’re reading this, thank you so much for pointing that out. i wasn’t even THINKING about that!

well, that’s about all i have on this theory for now, but the more i think about it, the more connections i create. i wasn’t sure at first, but this has come to be a belief i fully stand by.

thank you all so much for reading <333

#byler #byler s5 #will byers #mike wheeler #byler analysis #byler theory #byler tumblr #byler nation #byler truther #mike and will #byeler

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veliseraptor · 1 year

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I have a suggestion/compromise? You mentioned not having the heart to finish those abandoned marvel drafts but if you were willing to share some of the already written bits that you do like, why not just post them as excerpts? You needn't finish them and we get to read your lovely work and stop harassing you for more ❤️

I've been tossing this idea around in my head for the last couple of days and I still don't know where I'm coming down in terms of "actually posting unfinished works to AO3" but I did go back and reread some of these fics I moved into my "MCU Fic Salvage Folder" (aka the wips I feel like would be most worth finishing someday, hypothetically) and once again went "huh you know these are still decent" and it does seem a pity that they're just sitting around languishing unread when people might hypothetically appreciate them, and I'm always in constant need of external validation.

so you know what, since you asked, anon, here, have a 2.3k chunk of an avengers: infinity war canon divergence that I'm fond of notionally but very unlikely to ever finish.

-----

you who turn the wheel and look to windward

Loki watched himself die.

It was necessary, so that he could ensure all the reactions were perfect, the simulacrum as believable as possible, as precisely real as possible. Making a copy of himself was easy - child’s play. Had been for centuries. Making one that was solid to the touch and real enough to fool Thanos--

He’d never done it before, and he could feel the strain of it in his chest, but he was strong enough for this. He had to be.

That didn’t make it any easier to watch his own throat crushed in Thanos’s hand. He could feel himself shaking, his heart beating like it was going to explode, terror squeezing his airways as tightly as Thanos was squeezing his double’s--

Loki knew the pop-crack wasn’t real and he still flinched. The simulacrum went limp, and a muffled sound reminded him of the other reason he’d kept his eyes so determinedly fixed on his own death.

I’m sorry, he thought frantically. Thor, I’m sorry, I couldn’t think of another way--

Thanos dropped the body - his body, and he had the disorienting, horrifying experience of staring at his own dead eyes - in front of Thor. He was saying something, but Loki couldn’t hear it over the roaring in his ears.

Leave, he willed Thanos. Leave, damn you, you have what you want, now go--

Thor was sobbing. He could hear that, all too clearly, and oh if he’d ever wanted proof of what Thor had said (I mourned you) he had it now, and it was bitter in the having.

Thanos turned his back and Loki held perfectly still, quivering like a dog straining at the leash, waiting, waiting. All he needed was a moment, a clean moment where he could get Thor away and run, it didn’t matter where, somewhere, anywhere. He hadn’t managed to save Asgard. Or Frigga, or Heimdall. But he would do this, he had to do this, there was no other choice.

Walk away, he thought. Walk away, there’s nothing here for you, we’re already dead.

Thor was holding his corpse. Clinging to it, and Loki hated himself but he hated Thanos more and he would apologize when they were safe, would let Thor beat him into the ground if it just meant they made it through this.

Let us make it through this.

Loki felt the flash of power roll through him. Of Power. Felt the remnants of the ship groan as they started to tear apart.

No, Loki thought. No, no-

He gauged the distance between him and Thor and Thor and Thanos and it didn’t matter, he couldn’t wait any longer.

He’d already waited too long.

The ship ripped apart as Loki lunged for Thor, mouth open to shout his name before the vacuum of space tore his voice away, tore him away.

Then there was nothing, for a long time.

“You’re d’asting shitting me.”

Loki’s mind stirred sluggishly. His thoughts were fragmented, slow to cohere. There was something about that voice and its rough edge that made Loki’s stomach clench anxiously, but he couldn’t put a name to it, or to where he was, or to what-

No, he knew what had happened. The ship had been torn apart. And somehow...he’d survived.

Again.

“I should just throw you back out there,” said the vaguely familiar voice. “This is a waste of time.”

Loki fought his way free like a river in spring thaw. Everything was still jumbled, confused, but one thing remained squarely at the forefront of his mind.

“Thor,” he said weakly.

Thor, clinging to his body as the ship was ripped apart, and he hadn’t been fast enough to reach him.

He jerked the rest of the way back to life and lunged to his feet, whirling around with a knife in hand, and froze, staring at Thanos’s daughter. She stared back at him, her jaw set. “You,” he snarled, and lunged for her, hopelessly uncoordinated, still weak. She batted his thrust aside easily.

“Cut it out,” she said. “I’m not here for him.”

Loki flashed his teeth. “I am supposed to believe that?”

“Believe it or don’t,” she said. “But don’t try to stab me again after I just dragged you and the other one onto my ship against my better judgment.”

Loki’s heart leapt into his throat, something like hope almost blooming in his chest. “The other one?”

“Yeah,” she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “She’s over there.” She turned her back and started back toward the cockpit, stride jerky and ever so slightly uneven. “Don’t make me regret this.”

His heart dropped just as quickly. She. But he looked reluctantly over where Thanos’s daughter - he remembered her, if not her name - had indicated. Even one living Asgardian, even one, he told himself, no matter if it was not Thor…

I promise you, brother, the sun will shine on us again.

He walked unsteadily over to the other body lying on the ship’s deck. He recognized the style of the vessel - one of Thanos’s, which suggested that either Thanos’s daughter had stolen it, or she was lying.

Not just any Asgardian, Loki thought, kneeling down unsteadily next to her. The Valkyrie. She was a survivor. Like him.

Even as he started to reach out toward her, she gasped in a breath and her eyes snapped open, her knife flashing toward his throat. She stopped it just before it sliced through skin, staring at him, wide-eyed.

“Fuck,” she said. “Loki?”

Loki choked on a hysterical laugh. “The one and only,” he said.

“The fuck...the fuck happened?” Valkyrie’s voice rasped painfully. Loki wondered if there was water. He should have asked, but he still felt dull, muddled. Thor must have survived. He had to have. But where…

He slumped back away from her. “Thanos,” he said.

“I knew that,” Valkyrie hissed, already on her feet. There was an ugly rent in her armor, bleeding sluggishly. “But we’re not dead, so obviously-”

She cut off. Loki saw the moment when she put it together.

“There’s no one else, is there,” she said.

Loki didn’t want to say it. Couldn’t make himself say it. “I don’t know.”

Valkyrie let loose with a string of expletives that Loki couldn’t parse. He waited for her to finish shouting.

“Hulk?” She said, finally.

“Heimdall sent him to Midgard. To warn them.” And was murdered for it. He didn’t speak that part, but he could tell that Valkyrie heard it nonetheless.

“And Thor?” She asked, but he could tell by the look on her face that she already knew the answer. She just wanted him to say it. Why? So she could blame him, that he was still here and Thor might be-

He’s not dead. I won’t believe it. He turned his back on her and walked over to the cockpit to stare at the back of Thanos’s daughter’s head. She’d been a Luphomoid, once. He wasn’t sure what to call her now. “What’s your game,” he asked, harshly.

“Getting to Thanos. Killing Thanos.”

Loki jerked. “Last I saw you-”

“Last I saw you,” she snapped, “you were dancing on Thanos’s strings. It’s been a while.”

“You know this person?” Valkyrie said, coming up behind him.

“Yes,” Loki said flatly. “Not fondly. There were a lot of sophisticated instruments of torture involved.”

He felt Valkyrie stiffen, and somewhere distant where he was still feeling things was touched.

“Don’t make me regret pulling you out of vacuum,” she said, her voice, if possible, even harsher than he remembered. “I only did it because-”

She stopped. Her hands twitched on the controls. Loki could see something, suddenly, in her single-minded intensity, the taut coil of her entire body, straining toward a destination she was afraid she wouldn’t reach.

“Because why,” he said. She clamped her mouth shut and didn’t answer.

“Would someone explain to me who you are and what’s going on,” Valkyrie said tightly, her voice almost vibrating, and it occurred to Loki that she’d been the sole survivor of her sisterhood, and was now one of a handful of survivors at most, almost immediately after returning to Asgard. Loki stumbled back and sat down on one of the unoccupied seats, his head suddenly spinning again.

“She’s a daughter of Thanos,” he said. “Not of his flesh - I don’t know that he has any of those. I certainly hope not.”

“I am not that,” she said, her voice grating. “My name is Nebula. I almost killed Thanos once. This time, I’m going to do it right.”

“You’ve changed your tune,” Loki said. To Valkyrie, he added, “it seems we both managed to survive being blasted into space when Thanos disintegrated the ship. Which is, I imagine, where she found us.”

“But not Thor,” she said.

“There were no other signs of life in the vicinity,” Nebula said, after a brief pause. Loki felt like he’d been punched in the chest. He slumped back into the seat, staring blankly forward.

It should have been you, whispered a nasty voice in his mind. Not him. Never him.

Valkyrie swore under her breath. “Fuck,” she said. “Shit.”

Nebula, to his gratitude, said nothing. He was quite certain she knew the name. She’d heard him scream it enough.

“Fuck!” Valkyrie roared, slamming her foot into the hull of the ship. Loki bowed his head and tried to summon the words: nor shall we mourn, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t. He felt like something had been ripped out of his core.

“Where are we going,” he said finally, numbly.

“I told you-”

“Yes, I know. I meant more specifically than that.”

“Vormir,” Nebula said. Loki frowned.

“What’s on Vormir?”

“The Soul Stone.”

Loki’s heart skipped a beat. “What?” He said, voice a little hoarse. He’d had some slim hope that the thing was lost. That no one knew where to find it, Thanos included, and thus he would not be able to complete his quest.

Stupid. He should know better by now than to trust to hope.

Nebula’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know if Thanos is still there. But it’s the last location I know he was heading.”

“How did he know where to go,” Loki said, his throat closing like he was the double Thanos had strangled. “I thought it was lost-”

“Not lost enough,” Nebula said. She was wound so tight she was almost vibrating. Racing against time. She was afraid. Loki had not thought she was capable.

That was all the Stones accounted for. Two on Midgard. Two Thanos already possessed (one thanks to you, sentiment, and what was it worth in the end, you still lost). One on Knowhere in the Collector’s care - he was strong enough that he might be able to match Thanos on his own, but with two Infinity Stones already in his possession? Perhaps not.

And the Soul Stone, on Vormir.

“How do we kill him,” Valkyrie said, her voice harsh. “This - Thanos. How do we kill him?”

“Quickly,” Nebula said. “Cutting his throat should do it. I intend to take his whole head just to be sure.”

“Not if I get to it first,” Loki said. Nebula gave him a sharp, ugly look that Loki ignored. He was very cold, and trying very hard not to think of Thor. Not to think, with childlike desperation, he was alive when you saw him last, Thor is strong, he might have survived. He couldn’t afford to believe that. And it wouldn’t matter if Thanos got what he wanted.

“How far are we from this Vormir,” Valkyrie said.

“Another few hours.” Nebula’s voice was curt, but not exactly hostile.

“And are there weapons on this ship?”

She gestured toward the back, and Valkyrie turned on her heel and stalked in that direction. Loki looked down at his hands. He had his knives, of course. Always.

He kept going over those last few moments on The Statesman. What he could have done differently. What he should have done differently that might have gotten both him and Thor out alive - or at least Thor.

It should have been a relief that he couldn’t think of anything. It wasn’t.

“What changed,” he said.

“Are you talking to me,” Nebula said. Her voice was as harsh as he remembered. Thanos must have done something to damage her vocal cords, at some point. Hearing it sent a shiver of revulsion at remembered pain down his spine.

“Yes,” he said. “I am talking to you. What made you finally turn your back on your father?”

“None of your business.”

“I’d like to know why I should believe you aren’t just taking us to Thanos as prisoners.”

“If I was taking you to Thanos I would have just killed you,” Nebula said. “If I’d known it was you I was pulling onboard I would have.”

“Hey,” Valkyrie said, hefting a sizeable gun in one hand. “Watch it.”

Nebula made a disgusted noise and turned away from them both. Loki glanced at Valkyrie, eyebrows furrowing, and when she looked back at him he read determination and rage and a sort of desperation in her eyes. Like she expected something from him.

Don’t, Loki wanted to scream. I’ll only fail you. As I failed Thor.

“She’s not going to now,” Loki said. “And if you try...you’ll find me much harder to subdue than when I was your father’s captive.” It was largely bravado. He was weak after the fight on the Statesman, after dueling Proxima and Corvus, after crafting a double of himself. Drained by the memory of Thor on his knees, screaming, running toward his brother as the ship disintegrated around them and Thor just lay there sobbing over his seeming corpse, making no move to save himself.

A knife slid in under Loki’s ribs and slit him open. He staggered, and Valkyrie caught him.

“Lackey,” she said lowly.

“I’m fine,” he said, but she ignored him, depositing him on a seat and standing next to him, glaring at the back of Nebula’s head as she ignored them both.

#conversating #anonymous #fic excerpt #loki's a goddamn mess #avengers: infinite denial #wow been a few years since that tag saw use #in case this becomes a thing i'm going to tag it #mcu fic amnesty

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strangerhottotties · 2 years

Note

Hi. If you are accepting requests, could you write a Eddie one where you are Dustin cheerleader sister who also play D&D and have a secret crush on Eddie and no one knows besides your friend Chrissy (let's pretend that she still alive ans season 4 events never happened) and when Dustin and Mike needs someone to replace Lucas, your brother finds you talking to Chrissy and asks you to replace him and she knowing about your crush on Eddie,helps you find a excuse to miss the match to be on Hellfire as a favour to your brother. While Eddie is surprised to see that you are the person who will replace Lucas in the campaign since he didn't know you played D&D and soon after,asks you to talk to you where he assumes he has something for you and asks you on a date, much to Dustin's delight since he knows of your crush on his friend and his friend crush on you and wants his favorite people (after Steve) be together

Warnings: TW: Dustin jokes once about killing himself. Reader threats to kill Dustin on several occasions. This is mostly flirting, fluff and pining. I hope you enjoy.

A/N: Thank you for the ask, sorry it's taken me a hot minute to actually reply to this. But I'm absolutely NOT going to rush any of my requests. Firstly, I love that you guys enjoy my writing enough to request anything, so I love requests! I just want to make sure I'm satisfied with the quality. Secondly, I'm really trying not to burn myself out. So, thank you for being patient with me, darling. MWAH! I totally adjusted the end just a little bit. So I'm sorry but most of it is true to the request.

Post A/N: OH MY GOD I RANDOMLY FOUND THIS IN THE BOTTOM OF MY DRAFTS AND IT ACTUALLY SAVED! I THOUGHT IT LOST!

The most horrifying thing Dustin had ever spoken was after the very first day of his freshman year nearly made you crash your car. Your tires had squealed when you hit the brakes. "DUDE! WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!" He'd shouted after getting yanked against his seatbelt. His other words like a black hole in your head.

I made a new friend today! He's a senior who's, like the coolest dude ever! He offered to let us join his D'n'D club, you should join too!

"You're friends with Eddie Munson?" You demand.

"Yeah, you know him?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah," you offer before focusing back on the road and proceed to drive again.

"I'm surprised you're not in Hellfire. It's a D'n'D club!"

"Uh, yeah, I'm okay," you offer meekly. Dustin's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"I don't get it, what's everyone got against Eddie?"

You take a deep breath. "Dustin, do you remember how when we were kids, we'd play the secret game?"

"Take it to the grave?"

"Yep," you reply. "Do you want to play?" You watch his eyes light up and he twists to stare at you. Always eager for juicy gossip.

"Yeah, yeah!" He leans forward eagerly. "What is it?" You bite your lip.

"Eddie Munson... is the guy I've got a crush on." His jaw drops wide open.

"EDDIE IS 'THE GUY'!?" He shrieks. "Eddie is the guy that sits in front of you in Mrs. O'Donnel's class? The one that you always say would never give you a second look?"

"Yep."

"THEN YOU GOTTA JOIN HELLFIRE TOO!"

"NO WAY! AND YOU SWORE! IF I FIND OUT YOU TALKED TO HIM ABOUT ME, I WILL CRASH THIS CAR INTO A TREE AT FULL SPEED WITH YOU IN IT!"

Dustin dropped it. To the grave meant something genuinely. But he hated being stuck in the middle. Especially when less than a week later he had almost an identical conversation with Eddie.

His bag had been jerked off his shoulder by some asshole on the football team. The papers went fly when his broken zipper split. Eddie was nearby and nearly got into a fist fight over it, which Dustin was definitely going to fill you in on later. When the jocks finally stomped off, Eddie squatted down to help him collect his papers.

"Damn, these are killer marks, Dustin!" Eddie congratulates him while patting his back.

"Oh yeah, huge nerd, ya know." Then Eddie's face sobers.

"Wait," he grunts as holds up a finger.

"Yeah, what's up."

"What's this?" He demands, pointing at Dustin's messy writing at the top. His full name. "Henderson? Are you related-"

"Yep. Yeah. Mhmm," the kid folds under the intensity of Eddie's gaze. "The cheer captain, valedictorian would in fact be my sister, yes." Eddie takes a deep breath to steady himself.

"The Queen of Cheer is your older sister?" Dustin wants to beat his head against the wall. It was the topic of conversation at the Hellfire meeting twenty minutes later. Dustin was drowned in the guys all drooling over you. Something he was used to, at this point. And then Gareth says something that has Eddie's eyes widening.

"Dustin, who would have the best chance at scoring a date with her." Dustin drops his jaw wide open to stare at Keith. Then he begins to laugh nervously.

"Definitely me," Lucas smugly answers, mostly joking.

"No way," Mike scoffs back, "not one of us has a chance. Especially not you!"

"Yep, no one. Definitely no one." Every head swivels at his poor lying. Mike stares at him in disbelief.

"No way!"

"What! I didn't-"

"Does she have a crush on someone!?" Mike demands, shoving Dustin.

"I TOOK IT TO THE GRAVE!" Uproar erupts among the table. Everyone sitting forward. Will, Mike and Lucas all groaning with frustration.

"What does that mean!?" Gareth demands.

"It means his sister swore him to secrecy and he won't peep."

"Believe me! I want to! It's so stupid but she told me last week! If you got to me before she almost crashed the car because I mentioned the guy, I could have told you!" Everyone is on the edge of their seats with this.

"C'mon, what can you tell us," Eddie presses with the most charm he can muster despite the situation.

"No way, no. I'm not allowed to talk to you guys about her. She forbids it!" Eddie stands and makes his way around to the kid.

"Talking to us about her? Dustin, do you have dirt on your sister?" Dustin remains quiet, wildly uncomfortable about being put on the spot. "Henderson," Eddie coos, "you're not corrupted into doing the bidding of your older sister are you?"

"Of course not! But there are lines I won't cross!"

"There's got to be a degree of loyalty to your friends. Aren't you loyal to Hellfire?"

"Yes! Yes! Of course, I am!"

"Then tell us something about your sister." Dustin squeezes his eyes shut as Eddie rests his weight across the back of his shoulders.

"The guy she likes," Dustin starts and everyone sits forward in eager curiousity, "he... he..." He desperately tries to recall some bit of information he can spare. "Look, can it be any information or..."

"You know what, sure, kid," Eddie offers, with a wet willie. Dustin shutters in disgust and wipes at his ear quickly.

"Fine, I tried to set her up with Steve Harrington multiple times... but she's always refused because she has a huge crush on someone else..." Eddie grins down at him proudly.

"There you go, was that so hard." Dustin sinks down in his seat and passes Lucas a miserable look. Feeling horrible for outing you like that.

"Don't let him get to you," Gareth grunts out, unimpressed with Eddie. "He just has a huge crush on her and never shuts up about her."

Eddie twists to fix his friend with a horrified look and then Dustin rolls his eyes and groans. "Henderson, you tell her, and I'll make every campaign Hell for the rest of the year."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Dustin grumbles to himself.

Your name being called is what drags you away from conversation with Chrissy. You glance up to see Dustin jogging across the parking lot for your car. "Hey," you offer him.

"Hey, Chrissy," your brother offers with a smile. She gives him a warm one back.

"Hey, Dustin."

"What are you up to? Don't you have class?"

"I gotta ask you a favor," Dustin replies.

"Shoot."

"Lucas is bailing on D'n'D tonight for the game and it's the end of the campaign. Eddie's gonna drill us. We need another body for the party, please, please, please. You have to be there tonight. I can't find anyone else, and Eddie won't reschedule."

"Oh, oh, oh, you have to go!" Chrissy urges as dread sinks in your belly.

"Chris! We're supposed to be at the game tonight! How am I, cheer captain, going to skip our biggest game of the season!?"

"She'll do it!" Chrissy insists. "I'll cover for you at the game!" She squeezes your side and leans in to whisper. "Go get you some Munson." You flush deeply. "Okay, Okay, but Lucas is a ranger, right? I'm a mage, is that really a good idea."

"Please, Eddie is a tyrant as DM." You take a deep breath and sigh.

"I'll meet you after school, but you so owe me."

"YES! THANK YOU!" And with that he throws into a hug.

The drama room quiets as your shoes squeak to a stop. "You made it!" Dustin calls.

"What is this?" Eddie laughs like it's some big joke. You take a deep breath to steel yourself against the emotions that swell at the fact that Eddie Munson was speaking to you. You were in the same room as him, and he was acknowledging your existence like you imagined daily. Like you always willed him to turn around in class and give you a flirty smile. It never happened.

"I found a sub for Lucas."

"I'm missing the game for this," you reply to Eddie a lot smoother than you expect. Your voice even, steady. Eddie rises from his throne and move towards you, head tilting at you.

"Oh, and the Queen of Cheer knows about d'n'd?"

"You're looking at a level seventeen mage," you respond. Eddie's face flashes briefly with shock.

"There's no way."

"Want to see my score sheet?" You hold out your hand as Dustin digs through a folder he kept. "I haven't played in a while, but I know what I'm doing." Dustin passes you the sheet, grinning widely. When you look over at him, he winks and you want to strangle him.

Eddie hums quietly as he glances over the sheet. His eyes meet yours and your heart flutters in your chest. "Well, do you want me to play?" You demand, voice softening more than you mean it to.

Eddie steps into your space, a lazy smile crossing his lips. "If you want me to play with you," your eyes widen at his words and you can feel the warmth of your cheeks turn to burning, "you'll have to say 'please', princess." He's so close you can smell the smoke and his shampoo. It's hard not to take innuendo away from what he just said.

Why, oh why, did you have such a crippling crush on such a prick. You send a hard look down on to your brother, something promising a vicious response.

When you turn yourself back onto Eddie, he's patiently waiting. You take in another deep breath, inhaling the earthy smell of him before you fix him with your 'siren' eyes as Chrissy called them. Your half-lidded smile in response to Eddie has his breath hitching. Eddie was unaware of your competitiveness that would often draw out your feral side. Only you were consciously vicious.

You'd play his game. But you don't think he's prepared for it. You press yourself close, pressing your breasts into his chest. Your mouth hovers close to his ear.

"Oh, Eddie," you breathe for him, "won't you please let me play with you and your friends?"

"That's underhanded," he murmurs back.

"Thought you were supposed to bring the fire, or is the throne for show?" You taunt. He takes in the dark grin you're giving him. It's surprises you how easy it is to flirt with him. He gives you a breathy laugh. It might be nervousness but when he pins you with a dark gaze, you know it's just fueling something.

"Fine. You can join. But I'm gunnin' for you, sweetheart."

"I'm so scared. Now, aren't you going to pull out a chair for the queen?" Dustin high fives you below the table when a folding chair is tucked in for you.

"Thank you," he murmurs.

"My services aren't free, Dusty."

"Oh, I think you'll like my repayment."

The laughter and cheers fill the room still. If you hadn't rolled nat twenty with that last roll there wouldn't be so much thrill in the boys around you hooting and hollering. It was a fun campaign, certainly grueling, and it reminded you of when you'd gotten Dustin into it. Before you'd even moved to Hawkins. The hype was what you'd always loved about Cheer.

Somehow this was better though. Everyone shouting and laughing as they packed up their things. "Hey, Eddie," Dustin calls as Eddie is about to slip out the door. He says it at the same time as he grabs your wrist to stop you. "Come here a sec."

"What's up, little Henderson?" You frown in confusion as Dustin plucks the keys out of your hand.

"I'm gonna leave in a second," Dustin encourages as Eddie rakes his eyes over you quickly.

"Um... okay?" Eddie offers.

"And I know I said to the grave," your eyes widen and you snap fully towards him.

"Don't you dare."

"My sister has had a crush on you for like four years." Eddie's head swivels back to you.

"To the grave you're going."

"Shut up, if I have to spend one more lunch period with him staring at you across the cafeteria and talking about how pretty you are, I'm going to kill myself." You flush deeply and now you both watch each other quietly.

Dustin grins proudly. "Okay then, I'll be in the car." And with that, your brother skips out of the Drama room. Eddie and you evaluate each other quietly.

"So you enjoyed that little tease at first, didn't you?" Eddie grins, letting his bag slip from his shoulder to the floor. You flush.

"Take me on a date and I might tell you," you whisper quietly. Eddie grins at you, stepping back into his face.

"I didn't know you were a devil worshipping nerd before tonight, might have changed my opinion of you," he teases. You start to feel the bite of rejection until he suddenly walking you back onto the table. "How does Saturday sound?"

You lick your lips and nod at him, too emotionally fried to put up a fight like you did earlier. "Yeah, I'd like that." Now that your perched on the edge of the table he just gives you a cocky grin. The lingering silence making you nervous. "Are you gonna stand there and stare or are you going to kiss me?" You demand quietly.

Eddie gives you a mean little laugh and leans in really close. "Good girls wait until the end of a date." You flush and a pout of sorts settles across your face.

"I'm not as good as you think," you encourage. Eddie gives you a shaky breath and then explains it very gently. Butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"The only reason I have to say no is because I'm worried that...," he swallows and tucks hair behind one of your ears. "If I kiss you now, I don't know that I'll be able to stop. Dustin might be in your car for a while." It has you sucking a breath in and your gaze softens on him.

"Saturday then," you agree.

"Saturday," Eddie agrees with stunning smile. You reach forward, feeling emboldened by him. Eddie's breath stutters as you snatch his belt buckle and jerk him closer. You push up onto your toes, lips brushing his cheek. You grin when you lean back and see the pink tint of your lips left behind. He's none the wiser.

"See you," you offer him prior to slipping past him and you pause in the hall. His cheeks are red from the stunt you just pulled. You send him one last smile and slip out the door.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fics #eddie munson stranger things #fluff #request #thanks for the ask!

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saviourkingslut · 8 days

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Hi! I saw that you mentionned scrivener in your latest post and I've been meaning to try it. Is it good? I'm a one-doc-per-chapter kind of person so I wonder if it would work for me.

hi, sorry for the somewhat late reply, i wanted to include some screenshots to make my explanation a little clearer but didn't have the energy to sit down for it properly before now. if you're a one-doc-per-chapter writer i definitely think you should consider it! scrivener's most important feature, i think, is that it gives you:

the opportunity to split up your writing any way you want, whether per chapter, per scene, or even per paragraph...

...but all your writing is always within immediate reach, and you can restructure it whichever way you want.

to make that a little clearer, i've included a picture from my own work. scrivener is mostly geared towards creative writing, but i use it for my dissertation and that works very well too. this is the general interface, where you can see i've been writing an introduction:

scrivener's most important feature, to me, is its 'binder', which is this bit:

at the top, you'll see 'draft' - this is the entirety of the project you're working on. in this case, that's my dissertation. underneath, you see a little book, called 'introduction' - that's a main part of the draft. and underneath that, you can see a couple of folders and documents. that's all the different parts of my introduction. you can create as many folders and put as many different documents in those folders as you want. what i find incredible about this, is that i have an overview of all my topics, and that i can switch between all my different topics without having to open different documents OR put all my shit in one big document, which always makes me lose my way completely. and if i feel like restructuring my text? well, i can go to the binder, and drag the texts to another spot there.

since you like to work by chapter, you could just structure your binder like that in a way that works for you, but you'd still have access to all your other work if there's ever a moment when you need to refer back to it. or if you're working on multiple chapters at the same time, you can just switch between them.

something else that has helped me a lot is the 'research' part of the binder:

the 'research' part is meant for you as a writer to put down all your resources - your pdfs, your images, whatever you're using as reference while you're writing. now, because im writing an academic text and need more references than the average (fan)fiction writer, im using zotero as a reference manager. instead, im using the reserach folder to store my writing plans so i can reference and update them there. you see that 'reorganisation' folder there: it's also where i store my texts when i notice that the current structure is not working at all and i need to start over - but in such cases i don't need to write all the text itself from scratch again. this way i can keep everything within easy reach and copy-paste in the same document (you can split your screen within the program, and work in two documents at once).

what's also great are the tools. in programs like word or google docs you'll find some of these, but not all. as you can see, the first symbol leads to a sidebar where you can put a synopsis for the specific text you're working on, and it lets you add notes. the second one lets you add bookmarks to your text, like texts or references you want within reach immediately. the third one lets you add specific metadata or tags. the fourth lets you make snapshots; scrivener saves all your work immediately, but if you're about to make a big change, you can create a snapshot and roll back to that if it's not working out after all. finally, there's the comments, which speak for itself. all the way down the bar you'll also see that you can label texts ('no label' here, there's a colour system) and note what part of the writing progress this part of the text is at.

what i personally like very much is the bar at the top that now says 'opening 2.0'. you can see a light blue bar at the bottom of it: that indicates my writing progress. you can set a writing goal in number of words for your project. for my entire 'introduction', that's 8000 words, and as you can see im nearly there. if you hover over the 'opening 2.0' bar, it'll shift to show you the number of words you've written AND the number of words you've written in that specific writing session like so: 7300/8000 | 345. what i like is that it counts the actual words written - if i've deleted a sentence, my count goes down again. that's useful for me because i tend to think 'oh i've written so much today' while all i've been doing is tiny edits for 2 hours, but not actually put down more words.

there's MUCH more that scrivener offers, but i can't explain it all here. they offer a free trial for 30 days, and it comes with a practice document that explains all the features to you by making you work in the program. id recommend giving that a try if you're interested! the program is expensive (it cost me 70 euros) but it's absolutely been worth it for me. i used to have long-ass documents with half-finished paragraphs and snippets of thoughts and sentences all over, and this has helped me structure my texts more easily while also not cluttering my workspace with loose thoughts and ideas because i have more places to put them now.

#asks #long ass posts by ME feat. dumb opera shit #annotation is kinda ehh btw. like there's in-text and footnotes options but bc i use zotero they're not that great for me #there's a zotero extenstion but it's difficult to add if you're a luddite like me so i use the comments to put author and page no. instead #then i add the actual footnotes in word once i've converted the file

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wufflesvetinari · 9 months

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i need to convince myself i'm making SOME progress with this godforsaken short story so i'm going to post a bit of the draft here. just to say it exists, three friggin weeks later

Red smoke like a sunrise, the air of this strange planet choked in the soot of our victory. The battlefield bright with mech debris: fertilizer drones commandeered from our home colony, reprogrammed, weaponized. Sent with us in the forward dropships; keyed to our command.

We would not have bombs, otherwise. We would not have poison.

We are farmers. We are a gentle people.

Our organic-glass tubing spreads like strawberry runners over the scorched alien terrain, its density determined by algorithm. At home, this latticework would have delivered nutrients and treated the soil. It would have brought life to barren ground, a resource available to all by sacred human right. Enshrined in our charter and constitution: life. The right to it.

But the dose makes the poison. My new compound spreads quickly; contaminates enemy soil.

Some of us have fallen. Our exosuits, designed for solar satellite repair work, apply coagulant and brace bones. Our respirators, meant for deep-sea environmental preservation missions, work to filter out the blight we’ve brought. In this way our fragile psyches are insulated from the shocking scent of death.

But not the topography of it. Not its shape.

We’ve pulled the enemy out by the root. The General told us we didn’t have a choice. They’d tortured our ambassador, destroyed our lunar seed vaults, attempted a blockade. They were coming for us. We had to.

We had to.

The General strides across ruined plains, his body like a scar against the sun. A sharp and sudden light reflects from some piece of him: his exo, his command glove, the clasp of his cape. The light of him drives straight through me.

He is a colossus. He saved us. He needs me and he saved us and I want to go to him, but I can’t even stand.

Smoke plumes rise like distant grain silos. I vomit into my respirator, trapped with the scent of myself; the scum. I fade.

“Can I ask what you’re making, sir?” Lieutenant █████ asks, sitting in the patient bed next to mine. Since the surgeons woke her an hour ago, she’s done nothing but yank on her fingers like she wants them removed: first the right hand, then the left.

“A gown for a newborn,” I croak past a damaged throat. “My wife’s in the third trimester back home.”

“Oh. Is this your first?”

“The first I haven’t carried myself.” I wrap homespun wool around my hook, offered by our neighbors in exchange for my help reprogramming their fertilizer lattice during the last dry season. I brought skeins of it with me in the forward fleet; an entire basket in my quarters. “I owe my older boys new sweaters. They need clothes whether there’s a war on or not.”

█████ giggles, a little manic, as though I’ve told a joke.

Her hemp bag boasts the emblem of the Weather Shaper’s Syndicate: a civilian expertise that earned her a hasty officer rank in my Specialist Corps. Her leg ends just above the knee, but she’ll be fitted with a biosynth soon. The doctors probably completed a full vitamin rebalance when she was under. Probably countered a genetic susceptibility or two, just because they could.

“At least there isn’t anymore,” she says. When I look at her, she clarifies: “A war. We ended it? Just now? Or at least once the talks end.”

When I give her no answer, she goes back to pulling at her fingers. Her sunken eyes dart from my bandaged ribs to the baby’s sleeve taking form under my hands.

The medi-ship’s plant wall generates a cocktail of pristine air and corticosteroids. Beneath us, the wreckage of a planet turns.

She tries again: “It—it was terrible. As inhuman as they tell you in the ethics practicums as a kid, like something out of the old world. I saw—but the General said it was worth it. To protect everyone. Back home?”

Her gaze asks for my authority as a substitute for forgiveness. She looks very young, and I become very angry.

“What was worth it?” I say it calmly. I don’t know why I say it at all.

“I…the General said—”

“Which part do you mean? Specifically.”

Her smile trembles; she presses the button for pain reliever. She doesn’t fully understand it yet, the scale of what we’ve done, but her body feels it like a fever.

I make my voice bright and effusive. “No need to be so modest. Your team did well punching holes in their ionosphere. Between that and the typhoon seeding, how many did you take down before the dropships even landed?”

“Sir?”

“Let’s talk in planetary percentages. Let’s talk in long-term damage.”

Our founding charter, the General’s steel voice says in my head—like he’d said to the Colony Council, two years ago—allows for militia muster in self-defense. It allows for the ethical deployment of minimum effective force. If you grant me the authority—

I smell my own vomit again, its own kind of ghost.

“Sir—Commander ██████,” the weather shaper says faintly. “I carried out your orders.”

“You did.” I rip back a row to fix a dropped stitch. My sheets are hand-sown and clean. “You’re right. He’s right. We had to protect ourselves.”

A gift box looms at the foot of my bed. It had taken me some hours to work up the courage to open it. Inside sits a bottle of wine from my home syndicate—the General knows I like good wine—and some kind of complicated artisan decanter, constructed as a tangle of glass roots as tall as my forearm.

The decanter leans by design, like a lurching soldier. It casts sharp-twisted shadows. It traps the light.

Swift recovery, my friend, the letter says, his cursive a series of slashes across the page. My heart races like a north-rabbit in flight. Like lying in the melting snow of a battlefield, watching his presence eat up the horizon like an Alexander of our own making. Like the line between love and fear.

I ask a nurse to decant the wine for his team as my thanks. The liquid works through branching blown-glass roots. A maze of red, like the fertilizer lattice I programmed to poison a hundred thousand miles of enemy farmland. Like strawberry runners.

I do not want the decanter.

Its complex and scarless surface speaks to the work of a master artisan. At home I would have had to trade a lattice designed from scratch in return for a product so fine. But people—people who meet him, understand him—give the General things for free.

I visit the General’s quarters on the Plethora, my ribs still aching, planning to explain that my dogs would just knock his gift from its shelf. That my boys play rowdy. That the house my great-grandfather built in the first days of the Colony is small, each space designed for function (solar power and a heat pump and green-growing walls). The better to keep to the Charter; give back to the land.

Instead, I stand at his doorway and fail to knock. I’ve found I can’t picture his face anymore, not outside of that one half-conscious moment: the battlefield, the hard red horizon.

A superimposition of my other memories. An invasion.

The door slides open and I jump. His shadow swallows mine. His massive shoulders fill the doorway.

He looks at me and I’m wrung out clean, a piece of fabric on the line. His eyes are deepest green.

“██████,” he greets me softly, and invites me in.

#it's about uhhhh. the slippery state of utopia and also sort of about season one of st:disco lmao #i am thinking of breaking the first scene into bits and seeding it through the second #working title is 'strange decanter'#my writing

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asksoldieron · 7 months

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SO-1: Here We Go Again!

If there's a lot of engagement on this, this post is liable to get real long, beware before you expand.

I'll edit in the real art once I make some!

Welcome to the Engagement Lounge, for This Seems Familiar (SO-1) an instalment! Short comments can go in the replies, but there's a 475 character limit. Longer ones will need a reblog. Remember to @asksoldieron if you're reblogging someone else's reblog, so I can see it too!

Woo. It's been a while since I posted this one now. As of this writing it's still lacking an illustration, but I went through and edited for continuity. I don't think this one changed much. (Mainly I needed to add the gumballs, and that's not until later. It's very important about the gumballs. Why? You'll see 😁.)

There may be a little quality loss here, but I'll need yet more distance to see it. The main thing is that I wanted to pen an opening that wouldn't be too confusing to new readers, or too boring to old ones. That's tough! And I don't have any beta readers who aren't already familiar with the story.

I should say, I didn't. And now I don't again! But earlier this year, I joined a group for autistic writers and... Ohhh-kaaaay. That was an experience I will not repeat.

I got fed up and finally cut ties when I found out they were affiliated with a local group that offers ABA for autism. You'll still find a lot of "favourable" articles about it on the internet, including from our "friends" at Autism Speaks! People just love it because it makes autistic kids stop acting autistic! Not "being," no, it just trains them not to act that way and inconvenience the rest of you. Often with punishments! Ha-ha, yeah. That's fine. This is fine. A disability is just like any other antisocial behaviour, you can just cut that shit out!

But I didn't know that about them, and I've been trying to make friends and connections. A group of autistic writers? And we don't have to meet in person? Sign me right up!

It was more a group for one particular autistic editor and her longsuffering friend, and the editor had all the inflexible dogmatism media tells you to expect from people like us. "I think everyone should stop masking because it's hard for me!" she said (I'm paraphrasing) once. "If we all just stop doing it, there won't be a problem!" Ha-ha. Yeah. They kill people like me when we don't behave up to a standard. Maybe not like her, because she's small, feminine and white, but people like me and my family.

That's the level of insight I was getting, but I stuck with it because I'm a people-pleaser!

We only had "time" for a couple pages of the first draft of this instalment (even though not many people were there and not all of them wanted to read words aloud, my god) and I got pressured into sharing first, having never been there before with no idea how I was meant to act. She proceeded to critique it as if it were a short story (not true) and as if that were all, or almost all, of it (clearly not true, I was sharing my screen at the time). I dunno if you wanna open it in another tab and look, but I began with Erik in the first draft. 1000 words into that is 1/5 of a standard instalment length and you've barely met him by the end.

I went back and added Miss Doubek (whom I was going to save for #6) at the beginning, so you could see the world through the eyes of someone a little less impaired. Because this writer group and editor convinced me y'all needed me to hold your hands a little tighter or you'd nope out.

"I don't understand what's happening" is like a kick in the groin to me. Growing up, I did not have a big enough vocabulary to express my big stories and big thoughts, so I heard that a lot. I still do sometimes! I'm overly specific and complex, especially when I'm upset, and I get aphasic and shut down. But, no, they didn't understand. The editor's poor friend was willing to hazard that there was obviously something wrong with Erik and she was beginning to suspect he was being held against his will - as one should. I solve that little mystery for you by the end. But I didn't get to read the end. I didn't even get to John coming home.

The editor told me (and, if I ever die of an aneurism, it will have been these words in my brain that killed me) "People don't say 'I know.'" That shut me right down. I was expected to keep talking and I probably did, but... Wha? Buh? I say "I know" all the time! One of my top ten ways to sort out my thoughts or rephrase and repeat what someone's trying to express so we're both on the same page. "I know [this], are you saying [that]?" But I removed it, and I don't think I put it back. (I think I ended up referencing the brain damage earlier instead, because I thought you needed to see a reason Erik might bit a little off, even if that's not the real one.) I'm still feeling self-conscious about using that phrase, in text and IRL!

By the grace of god, I didn't have a total meltdown and gut everything, but I wrote poorly and without joy for a long while. Trying to meet the standards of someone who had no idea what I was doing and didn't care to learn. She was an editor! I always wanted access to one of those!

Yeah. This helped solidify my now-militant belief that 1) Traditional publishing is not for me and 2) Stuffing art into a tiny box will kill it, so 3) Maybe we should be a little more grateful that people share the things they love with us.

I am clueless. I have sinned. I have issued unsolicited criticism on the internet, with the best of intent. But I am gonna try like hell not to do it anymore. Y'all don't need to be ruin your week. Unless you say you want help (and I will take you seriously, even if you don't mean it, so be careful!) or you're hurting others, I will back off and accentuate the positive. Even if the best I can come up with in the moment is "You made a thing!" (Ha-ha, nonverbal blues.)

Wow, that came out kinda sad. But I'm OK now! Tired of website glitches, but loving the writing part. I'd rather write another instalment than do any of this other stuff I got on my plate, but that's not in the cards for a few more days...

[Back to the Site?]

#tin soldier and soldier on #instalment #engagement lounge #autism #art #writing #first draft woes #some of the many reasons traditional publishing ain't gonna do it for me

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etes-secrecy-post · 1 year

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Hi, before I explain my post, I want to say something important.

• What you see my blog has become a major overhaul. And despite the changes, I decided that my 2nd account will be now my artwork blog with a secret twist.

⚠️NEW RULE! (W/ BIGGER TEXT!)⚠️

⚠️ SO PLEASE DO NOT SHARE MY 2nd ACCOUNT TO EVERYONE! THIS SECRECY BLOG OF MINE IS FOR CLOSES FRIENDS ONLY!⚠️

• AND FOR MY CLOSES FRIENDS, DON’T REBLOG IT. INSTEAD, JUST COPY MY LINK AND PASTE IT ON YOUR TUMBLR POST! JUST BE SURE THE IMAGE WILL BE REMOVED AND THE ONLY LEFT WAS THE TEXT.

⚠️ SHARING LINKS, LIKE POSTS, REBLOG POSTS, STEALING MY SNAPSHOT PHOTOS/RECORDED VIDEOS/ARTWORKS (a.k.a. ART THIEVES) OR PLAGIARIZING FROM UNKNOWN TUMBLR STRANGERS WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED, RIGHT AWAY!⚠️

😡 WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT EVER LIKED & REBLOG MY SECRET POST! THIS IS FOR MY SECRET FRIENDS ONLY, NOT YOU! 😡

Okay? Capiche? Make sense? Good, now back to the post…↓

My GTA V Online Random Snapshot/Screenshot/Video [Jan 13th, 2023]

Hello, and welcome to my installment of Random Snapshot/Screenshot/Video in GTA V Online. Yup, I add ANOTHER part of my random media. Hehe!😁

• And in my first random post of 2023, I found something that I need.... *rubbing my hands* Hehehe... 👏😏

But before that, if you haven't watched by previous random post, then please [CLICK ME!].

My Recorded video (via XBOX Game Bar) ⏺️🎮🖥️: [Pls watch.] ↑

• Well, the snowy day is out, and everything is back to normal. Anyways, I'm now at the Palmer-Taylor Power Station to show you something interesting. You could see the icon of the "gun van", and this person sells existing weapons that you've already seen before, including armor vests & throwables. 🔫🦺🚛🧑 Except one, however, and that's the portable devastating "Railgun" ⚡🔫! That's right, we're now finally getting our hands on the futuristic "Railgun" in our online world (I meant, GTA V Online) after a LONG years of waiting & rumors spread. In fact, this energy blaster appeared a long, long, LONG time ago before the debut of the online version (specifically in 2013). Originally, this can be found in adversary modes, mission sessions, and also free roam missions, but we can't keep it in the free mode until 2023. So yeah, we've been waiting for nine "freaking" years 🗓️ (not ten) to purchase our own railgun from a guy who sells weapons at the back of the van.

• And, how much the Railgun cost? GTA$ 657,000! (others say GTA$ 730,000) It's freakingly expensive 😮💵, but, I'm happy to oblige. The railgun's ammo cost GTA$ 900 each, and it's capable of 20 shots. Mmmm... It's not bad. I also buy the "Combat Shotgun" 🔫 w/ suppressor & a flashlight, and also a "Knife" 🗡️because everyone wants a go silent throat kill with a knife, right? Anyway, once I owned a Railgun, it is now permanent in my weapon wheel. And if I need a reload my railgun then I could go to my "Interaction Menu" (by pressing "M" on the keyboard or holding the "Select" button on the controller) & select "Ammo".

Overall:

• Is it worth the wait for the Railgun in our weapon wheel? Absolutely! 😃 Again, we've been waiting for so long & our wishlist was granted by the developers. This could be an alternative solution just in case our Mk II weapons w/ explosive Ammos are rung out. And yes, this could be worst for griefers, tryhards, hackers, cheaters & other toxic players when using a Railgun. (they have "No Responsibility" 😡) *Sigh* I would prefer to stay away from players wielding a Railgun by switching "Passive". I would rather go "Solo" & enjoy wielding my own, thank you very much.😒

Important Note: If you want a buy the Railgun, then this video might help for you → [CLICK ME! #1]. And if you want to go deeper info (about the Railgun), then please [CLICK ME! #2], [CLICK ME! #3], [CLICK ME! #4].

Well, that’s all for now. And If you want to see my previous car prize, and more, then please → [CLICK ME!]. 😉

(Where do all the links go you may ask? I made a post about all GTA V Online-related links. This will prevent error save drafts, in my future post. Plus, I’m always updating my link post.)

Tagged: @bryan360, @leapant, @carmenramcat

(😡 Unwanted tresspassers are prohibited to see this!😡)

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xviruserrorx · 1 year

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Title: "The Rain Before The Rainbow"

Chapter 2/7: "You Should've Raised A Baby Girl, I Could Have Been A Better Son"

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This fic was originally written around late 2019-early 2020 ish, but was abandoned for reasons and now I'm gonna re-write it to but I have a no-delete rule so I'm posting all the original drafts here for anyone who still wants to see them. "But Virus these are terribly written" you may say and, yeah I know, this story was one of the first things I had written after a 5-6 year writing hiatus... But here they are terrible Grammer and all!

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (Tv & Comics)

Relationship(s): Five | The Boy & Everyone

Character(s): Five | The Boy, Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves, Vanya | Viktor Hargreeves, OC - Ymir Cyprus

Important Tag(s): Alternative Universe - No Sparrow Academy, Comic Book Elements, Time Traveling, Five-Centric

Rating: Teen and Up

Warning(s): Major Character Death, Cannon Character Death

Word Count: 2,904/41,006

The Hargreeves return from 1963 and find they have averted the initial Apocalypse. The siblings return to life as it once was but now together and not expecting impending doom. Five begins to adjust to life with his siblings how it used to be but knows something is missing. By something, he means someone. What happens when Five decides to jump back in time and try to save Ben. Is he successful? Or will he face the consequences of his actions?

"The End To The Beginning, The Beginning To The End" - Tumblr | Ao3

->Next: N/A

Continue reading below or read the edited version on Ao3

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Five(POV)

Five frantically started writing out all the formulas he needed to go back a couple years and to a specific date.By a couple years He meant 13, back to when his siblings were 16.

Five looked through the old newspapers from the library where their father had kept every newspaper with them in the headlines.

He went through them by year till he found all the ones under 2006. Five took a deep breath before flipping through the individual papers.

He landed on the one that he needed,the one with the headline reading.

The Horrors death

Five grabbed the paper and blinked back towards his room and scribbled the date down on his wall.

He kept at it till the sun started to set in the sky. Five didn't notice the day whizzing by nor did he care.

Knock!

"Yoo hoo Fivey Dinner is ready"

'Dinner?'

'Didn't they just eat breakfast?'

'What happened to lunch?'

Five glanced back at his clock that read 6:35 pm.

'Oh'

"Tell Diego I'll be down there in a minute Klaus,"Five yelled through his door.

"You know Di is gonna murder me if you don't come down for Dinner, Baby Cinco ."Klaus said to Five still with his door closed.

Five starred at his wall, he had most of the equation worked out but one thing he didn't know was the details of Ben's death. What people were around? Who were they fighting? What was so important about this mission they had to go?

Only the remaining other 5 siblings knew and Five knew he had to ask them and soon or else finding the right equation wouldn't mean anything.

Five huffed and got down off of his bed and opened his door with Klaus who was leaning on it tumbled into his room.

"AGAIN not a Baby"

Five was about to blink downstairs then realized he should start saving his energy if he's gonna make a big jump.

Instead Five walked past Klaus, down the staircase to the dining room.

"Wow you actually walked down here for once,"Diego commented while placing a plate in front of him.

Klaus followed shortly after Five and plopped down in his chair," See told you he didn't die Allison."

Five looked over at Allison with a questioning look.

"I knocked on your door for lunch and you never responded,and I did NOT think he died Klaus" Allison said to Five then redirected her glance over to Klaus who sunk down in his chair.

"You acted like it," Klaus muttered.

They both continued to argue with each other while Vanya just laughed at the two.

Five rolled his eyes and continued eating his food.

"Where did you get these scratches from Five?" Diego ran his thumb over a small spot on Five's cheek.

He also grabbed Fives hand that was laying in his lap and turned it over where his palm was scratched slightly.

Five looked at his other Hand which had the same small, light scratches and caught sight of his knees which also were the same.

'Shoot'

'The tree'

In that quick second that Five began to fall he must have scratched himself on the other branches on the way down before Klaus was able to stop him from falling.

"....uhhh,"He looked over at Klaus whom he and Allison had stopped arguing ,over hearing his and Diego's conversation. Klaus turned his head and looked the other way.

'Traitor!'

Allison cleared her throat,"Five fell out of a tree this morning"

'Annnnd there it was'

Diego turned back to him,"A tree?"

Allison laughed at Diego's reaction,"Ask Klaus he knows."

They all looked towards where Klaus had been sitting and found him at the farthest end of the table.

"What me? I'm just, Number 4, you know the one who doesn't know anything."

Five glared at Klaus,He was not gonna be the one to take all the blame for this.

Five picked up his fork and stabbed what was on his plate,"Klaus was the one who dropped me from the tree." He said, bringing what he had on his fork to his mouth.

Everyone looked at Five then back towards Klaus,"Klaus!" They all said to The Seánce.

"What but that's-.....uh…..Fivvvvveeeee"Klaus whined, for both him and Klaus knew what he said was a lie.

"I said don't do anything stupid and you go and drop our brother out of a tree Klaus." Diego started to scold Number 4.

Five took a sip of his water and glanced at Klaus pouting while Diego was lecturing him.

For the first time since he left them when they were 13, Five started to laugh at his siblings, bringing a serviette to his mouth so he wouldn't spit out his water.

They all looked back towards Five

Klaus stood up from his chair,"See he's lying!"He said, trying to make a point to his siblings, His hands spastically making gestures towards the younger.

Five laughed more at Klaus' outburst which made his siblings smile at seeing him laugh.

They all dropped the topic of Five falling out of the tree( still not sure who did what ) and continued to chat while they all ate their dinner.

Five remained quiet for the rest of the time,listening to Vanya about her rehearsal and how she had a solo recital coming up, Allison about an upcoming shoot she had, and Diego and the new case he was assigned to.

Till he remembered

He has to know the details of Ben's death

Five waited till everyone was done and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.

"I wanted to ask you guys something,"Everyone looked towards Five with questioning looks while he looked down at his plate and shuffled a piece of food around it.

Everything stopped what they were doing as they saw the look on Five's face. Allison dropped her conversation with Luther, Diego leaned against the counter as he stopped clearing the dishes, Vanya's smile fell,and Klaus stopped messing around and bothering Diego.

Five felt everyone's eyes drilled into him but, They all stayed silent and let Five talk, not interrupting him.

"....…I-I want to know the full story"

Five grimaced at himself 'why did he stutter?'

Five took a deep breath

'here goes nothing'

"Of what happened the day Ben died"

"............."

Five felt like the silence between his siblings lasted years till one of them spoke up.

Allison stood up and started helping Diego clear the dishes,"We told you what happened Five and you also read what happened from Vanya's book."

Her voice was calm, not sincere, not sad, not angry, just…..calm

"But not everything," Five heard his voice get louder, he was always the only sibling that didn't know what completely happened to Ben.

"Five," It was Vanya with her soft nice voice who said his name.

She looked like she wanted to cry at the mention of their deceased brother.

He looked up from his plate and at the rest of his siblings all wearing different expressions.

Klaus' much like Vanya's, Diego and Allison looked calm and collected, while Luther looked like he wanted to punch the latter.

"Bud, you've asked us all on separate occasions about that day and we've told you all we can"

'bud' they all have been calling him that since he returned and Five didn't mind the nickname from his siblings, but right now it frustrated him.

"Can tell me or Want to tell me?" Five snapped at Diego.

Diego still remained calm and Five dropped his head again, he instantly regretted what he did.

Klaus opened his mouth to talk but was quickly interrupted by Luther.

"It's none of your business Five,"Luther told Five, more angrier than the others had been talking to him.

'None of his business?!'

Five snapped his head in Luther's direction,"was I talking to you Number One?" He had both hands placed firmly on the table, and His words had his normal attitude and bite to them.

"You did address everyone Number Five," Him and Luther were obviously getting heated with each other much like how Diego and Luther got.

Five stood up from his chair at this moment and so did Luther.

"Stop it Luther," It was Allison, her tone serious,with Diego still leaning on the counter behind her glaring at Luther.

Five had been biting his tongue the whole time when he couldn't take it anymore.

"Maybe I was addressing everyone who isn't to blame for Ben's death," Five knew it was a low blow, and didn't know if anyone had ever known if Five knew who they all blamed.

Vanya sat up from her chair and quickly walked out of the kitchen. Allison quickly followed behind, chasing after Vanya.She turned around before exiting the kitchen.

"You just had to ruin dinner didn't you?" Five didn't know if her words were directed towards him or at Luther,but either way...they hurt.

Luther went after Allison, and that left the 3 other brothers alone in the kitchen.

Five sat back down in his seat and swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat, staring at his hands that he was wringing together.

After a couple of seconds they heard the two sisters arguing and the front door being open then slam shut.

Five winced because he knew him bringing up the topic would have caused all this, yet he still opened his mouth.

One of the wooden chairs creaked as Klaus stood up, more slowly and calmly than the others who had already left the room.

He walked over to Five and laid a hand on his shoulder.

" I'm sorry Five"

Five didn't realize how much he would miss the stupid nicknames from Klaus till he didn't hear them.

'Why was Klaus apologizing'?

Five wanted to tell Klaus he's sorry and not to apologize, but he didn't dare open his mouth...not right now.

Five felt Klaus' hand fall off his shoulder and then the latter exited the kitchen, they could hear Klaus' bare feet against the tile as his footsteps got more and more distant.

Diego was the only one left alone with Five in the kitchen. He's still leaned against the counter which so happens to be in front of where Five is sitting.

"F-five," He hears Diego take a deep breath and runs his hand over his face.

Five wanted to mentally and physically smack himself, He hasn't heard Diego stutter in a while, the last time was when they were back in the 60's. He knows it only happens when he's upset nowadays.

Diego stayed quiet not saying anything to him. Five hated it, he hated the silence especially from Diego.

As much as Five liked to joke around about Diego being a pushover, Diego was just a protective big brother to them all. Making sure Vanya got to and from every rehearsal safely, helping Klaus through every withdrawal and nightmare, and carting around Five at whatever hours of the night to make sure he wasn't out alone or always making him tell Diego where he was so he didn't have a heart attack.

Diego was a constant in all their life's and kept them all in one piece.

Five looked up at Diego who had an expression he couldn't even describe.

"Di…?"

Five hardly if ever used their childhood nicknames for his siblings,unlike Klaus who always had a new nickname for every single one of the siblings, every day of the week.

Diego got off the counter and walked over to where Five was still sitting. He bent down in front of the younger and put his hand on Five's cheek, softly stroking it with his thumb.

Five slightly flinched at the contact he didn't indicate.

" What's wrong Five?"

Five wanted to tell him everything, He wanted to tell him how much he missed Ben, He wanted to break down and let Diego hug him, He wanted to feel warmth from another person's touch.

He wanted to accept the comfort.

But not right now

Five opened his mouth but never said anything and instead closed it and let his head drop down from his brother's gaze.

He felt Diego's hands fall to his Knees and rub circles as his older brother began to talk.

" Why don't you go upstairs and get some rest then we can all talk tomorrow." Five almost felt like this was a punishment of some kind, for him to wallow in every wrong in how he's treated his siblings, that has occured within the past few minutes.

Five nodded his head, still not daring to talk and began walking out of the kitchen towards his room.

Five was passing by the others rooms,when Klaus came out of his with his fur coat and leather boots on. Five knew he was gonna go out to score some type of drug, he had been clean nearly 2 weeks Five really didn't want him to ruin that. He watched as Klaus ran down the stairs and headed towards the front door.

'Why didn't he stop him? '

Five quickly turned away and walked as fast as he could till he hit his room. He shut his door behind him, palms flat on the wood as he took a deep breath. He put his back on the door before sliding down to the floor, hands tugging at his brown locks.

Five sighed, Dinner was a disaster. They had all finally been getting along and he had to just go ruin it all. Five let his head fall back against the door and thought about everything that just happened.

Fuck!

He knew Ben's death was hard to talk about for everybody, much less in detail about everything that happened that day.

He glanced around his room looking at all the things he never got rid of since his ACTUAL 13 year old self owned this room. The toys piled up on top of his dresser in a wooden toy box, the toy tractor on his window seal, his baby blue walls, and his light blue fluffy blanket that had designs on it still laid at the foot of his bed.

He glanced back at his wall where the info oshed equation was scrawled down. If he is just able to get Ben back, maybe everything will be better.

Five pushed himself off the floor and grabbed the almost finished stick of chalk and jumped back on top of his bed.He slightly bounced and almost lost his balance.

'no wonder Klaus was always jumping on his bed as a kid'

Five shook his head, Not the time. He needed to focus on what he was doing.

He would just have to figure this out by himself, like when he was in the apocalypse.Five was gonna keep at it till he got the right equation.

Some time passed and He stopped for a minute as he heard arguing downstairs between who knows. Someone's footsteps followed as the argument stopped, they grew louder with each step.

There was a light knock on his door as he was trying to figure out the last two numbers to his equation.

"Five, are you still up It's pretty late." It was Allison, she probably had been the one arguing with one of his brother's downstairs.

He looked at his clock

11:31 pm

He had been losing track of time all day working on this. He marked the number he got down, One more to go.

" Five?"

He still felt like he couldn't talk to his siblings at this moment. He scrambled down to his knees on the bed and reached over to switch his lamp off.

It took a couple of seconds till he could hear her slowly walking away from his room.

Five waited till the footsteps got farther and farther, till he could no longer hear them.

He switched back on his lamp so he could see what he was writing. He stood back up and marked the last number down then looked over the entire equation.

'something didn't seem right?'

Knock!

"Five, honey it's way past your bedtime," Ugh Mom.

Five jumped off his bed and opened his door a crack so he could peek out. He looked around and made sure none of his siblings were around before talking to Grace.

"Sorry Mom, just wrapping something up I'll be in bed by midnight." He gave her a half smile hoping she would believe him.

She smiled back at him," alright dear just make sure to change out of your uniform to your pyjamas."

She still treated them all like her children even after all these years. Five nodded his head and softly closed his door back up.

He grabbed his notebook and wrote down the equation before shoving it in his pocket.

This was gonna have to do

Five went over and locked his door knowing it would buy him more time in the morning before his siblings realized he was gone.

Five slipped on his shoes, grabbed his blazer that was hanging on the end of his bed and shrugged it on.

He wished Dolores was with him right now.

He stood up in the middle of his room and his fist began to glow.

Here. Goes. Nothing.

#virusfanfic

0 notes

lovely-angst · 3 years

Text

break ups and break ins

a/n: i didn't have any motivation to continue writing so it stayed in my drafts for forever. it's a super messy fic im not super proud of tbh i wanted to scrap it but i got so far lol

genre: angst to fluff

pairing: hawks x reader

summary: you and hawks break up, but someone breaks in?

word count: 3.7k+

09.16.21

"come on, stop being so sensitive," hawks groans with an eye roll as you gawk at him. "you think i'm being sensitive because I'm hurt that you're out there flirting with other girls while we are in a relationship?"

you scoff in disbelief before tears form in your eyes, "i can't believe you right now, keigo."

hawks' brows knit as he stares at you bewildered, "i've already told you that it's just an act i have to out up because of the commission. i can't let them figure out i have a romantic relationship with someone. you don't know what they would do or could do."

"but that doesn't mean you can flirt around with no boundaries!" your voice comes out loud as your arms flail out in front of you, tears streaming down your face, "do you know how much it hurts to see you on television sweet-talking every girl out there when you're my boyfriend? i thought you would respect what we have..."

"(name), just admit you're just jealous of the fangirls and leave it at that," hawks closes his eyes, shaking his head in frustration, "honestly, they appreciate me so much more than you do."

your eyes widen in shock as you feel your heart shattering into tiny pieces so small you aren't sure if you could piece it back up.

"keigo, i love you for who you are—not because you're hawks," your voice now small and laced with hurt. "if you can't see the reason why i am so upset, i think it's best if we end it."

hawks' eyes quickly glance to yours before they look away just as quick, "i think that's what's best too," he whispers, causing your brows to furrow in sadness as you purse your lips tightly.

taking a step forward, you wrap your arms around your now ex-boyfriend, taking in his comforting arms and smell, "thanks for everything." a heavy sigh left from his lips before he nuzzled into you, "can i hold you in bed one last time?"

words died in your throat as you felt the tears sting your eyes once more. a nod was your only reply as hawks lifted the two of you up with his large wings, carrying you into the bedroom.

no words were exchanged as the two of you allowed your quiet breaths to mingle together in silence.

your heart was still achey from the fresh break-up as your cries and tears quietly filled the air. your nose and eyes red and raw from all the wiping you had done—the tissues around you as proof.

"hey, come on. you can't keep living like this and expect to get better," mirko says and she stands infront of you with a small smile. "how about we watch something to distract your mind?" she suggests as she turns around to pick up the controller to turn the television screen on.

"hawks, being the number two hero must be so taxing! how do you do it?"

hawks gives that big bright smile you've always loved, "my fans always give me motivation to do my best! i love you my babybirds!"

"oh shit-" mirko quickly turns the television screen off before she turns over to you, watching as your lips quiver before you break out in another crying session.

"rumi," you whine, muffled behind your tissues, "he doesn't care for me at all!" letting out a sigh, she walks over and places a comforting hand on your hair before running her hand through your locks, "hey, don't say that. hawks' cared for you a lot. break-ups happen, but don't let it keep you like this. let's go out and have some fun today, yeah?"

your teary eyes glance up at her before you let out sigh, "okay."

but to your surprise, a quick hour later here you were on a chair getting your makeup done professionally as mirko sat on the couch, munching away on a carrot. "rumi? why am i getting my makeup done professionally?"

"my makeup artist is good at what she does when she beats my face with makeup for those hero galas. i thought it would make you feel better getting your makeup done professionally before we go out and explore the city a bit," she finishes, taking another crunchy bite of her carrot.

a small, "oh" leaves your lips before your attention focuses back on the lipstick that gently glided across your lips. "there, all done. you look great!" the makeup artist cheers as she hands you a mirror.

your eyes sparkled once you saw your reflection—you had never felt so pretty before!

"are you ready to go out now?" mirko asks with a smile as she stands from her seat. you couldn't help the small, yet excited, smile, "yeah."

your words had been on repeat in hawks' mind.

you were upset because of how he was treating his fans—flirting with his fans as you put it. it was a constant argument the two of you had and frankly, he was getting tired of it. why you couldn't understand where he was coming from?

he didn't want to break up because of something so trivial, but it seemed like a break up was the only option. but it was fine, his fans kept him going; or that's what he thought was keeping him going.

"hawks! we love you!" his fans cried as he landed down in front of them, his handsome smile swooning everyone lucky enough to get their eye on him. "thanks birdies! i'm always happy to have your support!"

"can i have a picture?" "sign my shirt for me!" "you're the best hero!"

fans; something he enjoyed about being a hero. everywhere he went, they were there to offer him their love and support which he appreciated and loved!

but there often came days when he just wanted to stay cooped in his apartment. away from the world and away from the hero hawks. he simply wanted to escape and enjoy being keigo for a little while.

maintaining a facade took a lot away from him. it was tiring, exhausting even, trying to keep up with how fast his mind was going. a million different things happening at once and hawks had to be able to solve them. a little much for a single guy, don't 'cha think?

landing in at his balcony, hawks let out a heavy sigh as he was finally done with another tiring day of being the number two hero. thankfully, he had the next day off to do, well, nothing.

staring at the dark apartment with a an empty look, hawks let out a groan of exhaustion before unlocking the door and stepping in.

it was quiet, extra quiet these days. since he had gone to living by himself again.

after removing his hero gear, hawks walked into the kitchen and frowned at his lack of food in the fridge. usually, you were always there to greet him with a smile and a hearty dinner after a hard day at work.

well, that didn't matter anymore because you two had broken up, hawks mentally responded to his thoughts.

it seemed like tonight was one of those nights he really missed you.

you made this place feel like home and the more he thought about it, you were his home. he was safe with you and it was okay to let hawks go for the night and just be keigo. you loved him as he came, his flaws and everything. even the emotional baggage!

letting out an exhausted sigh, hawks closed his empty fridge before making his way towards his bed, plopping down with a grunt. "i'll just get a bigger breakfast tomorrow," he noted, pulling out his phone to catch up on his social media for the night.

hawks wasn't expecting to see much on his social media, he's too busy to be checking these sorts of things. today though, he was a little extra bored at home—until he saw a photo of you that mirko shared.

hawks quickly sat up in disbelief. hawks was genuinely confused. you had always been super pretty, but you were extra pretty in this picture. was it because you were no longer his? his eyes glanced over you in the photo for many long minutes as he took in your beauty. you looked so ethereal.

hawks was so thankful for mirko, he would have never stumbled across this photo of you.

the more he smiled at the photo, the more his heart ached. if only he just listened to you more and tried to find a solution to this problem, you would still be with him, in his arms. he was a fool to let you go because he didn't understand your pain. especially when you were always there for him when you couldn't understand his pain.

hawks found himself pulling up that photo of you whenever the days were tough. it never failed to bring a smile to his lips.

until mirko deleted the post.

he should've saved it when he had the chance, hawks thought as he let out a groan upon finding no picture. but, maybe mirko still had it on her phone? thankfully, there was a top five hero meeting that day which meant he could ask mirko about the picture.

hawks sat impatiently in his chair as he drummed his finger against his thigh, counting down the minutes until the meeting would conclude. it must've been distracting, because mirko approached him first after the meeting.

"hey birdbrain, what's up with you? you looked distracted during the meeting," mirko questioned walking up to the winged hero. hawks perked up slightly, before giving her a smile, "hmm? nah, just sick of meetings, wanted to get out." mirko eyed him curiously, "if you say so."

"i saw that picture you posted of (name)," he commented, "you two were hanging out?"

"huh? oh, this picture?" pulling up the picture on her phone, she showed him the photo before pulling away to hawks' dismay. "yeah, we went out. it was about time too! (name) seemed to be enjoying herself, so i'm glad i got to capture that."

hawks couldn't help the smile on his lips knowing that you were happy and could enjoy yourself. he really just wanted you to be happy, even if that wasn't with him.

"if you wanted the photo, you could've just asked," mirko smirks, causing hawks to duck his head down in embarrassment. "but even if you ask, im not giving it to you." Hawks turned his head brows furrowed and confused, slightly offended, "why would you even suggest it then?"

"not sure, maybe it'll be a way to encourage you to find a way to get it."

mirko had an interesting way of talking, hawks thought as he continued on with his patrol. it seemed like she was hinting at more than what she was saying, but he wasn't really interested in solving puzzles when he was busy being the number 2 hero.

and boy, was he busy busy.

it felt as if all the villains knew hawks would be out on patrol today, using that to their advatange by stiring up so much more trouble than on a typical day—not that he couldn't handle it, it was just more work that he would have hoped to do that day.

from the sky, he could see a crowd forming below on the streets as they cheered him on for another successful capture. hawks let out an exhausted sigh, but floated down to greet his fans nonetheless. there even happened to be press.

"hawks! you were amazing out there!" "great work! i can always count on you!" "you looked so attractive fighting those villains!"

hawks lifted up his visor and gave the fans a handsome grin, causing a chorus of squeals. hawks glanced at one of the fans near him lips curled in a smirk, mouth ready to open and say a few lines that would send arrows straight to the heart when he subconsciously stopped himself.

closing his mouth, he gave her a gentle smile before a soft reply came out, "thank you for supporting me."

it was weird of him to respond to fans in such fashion, but your words were stuck in the back of his head. he wished he could have acted this way before you two broke it off, it would have saved a lot of heartache.

hawks hoped you would notice his change. and unbeknownst to him, you had.

your eyes were glued to the television that aired the news that also happened to feature your ex-boyfriend, hawks. your heart felt fuzzy as you watched him, he seemed different...more down to earth?

"your eyes haven't left the tv since hawks appeared," mirko comments causing you to avert your eyes embarrassed. "i was just interested in the news for today, that's all," you tried but knew mirko wouldn't buy into your lie.

"yeah, okay. keep telling yourself that," she chuckles as she she sits down beside you. "so, whats going on in that head of yours now?"

"he's different now, rumi," you state, eyes drifting back to the screen. "he's talking to his fans like they're fans." your shoulders slump sadly, "i wish he was like this when we were together...i guess he really doesn't care about me after all."

mirko lets out a grunt as she listens to your moping. turning towards her, you notice her adjusting her purple thigh high socks to sit snugly against her upper thighs, "you have patrol this evening?"

"yep, my turn for an evening patrol. they're not that bad, more bad guys come out at night," she jokes with chuckle but you don't find it funny. "i know you can easily beat them, but that doesn't mean i worry any less for you," you sigh. "stay safe please."

"will do, cry baby," she jokes once more causing you to angrily pout, "i'm not a cry baby!" "says the one crying over hawks. bye!" and with that she quickly leaves out the door before you could throw a pillow at her.

rolling your eyes playfully, you walk over toward the bedroom you shared with mirko. you had a nice futon on the floor beside of her bed that surprisingly was very comfy. organizing her room a bit and folding her clothes she tossed around, you tried to busy yourself until she came back.

which was surprisingly short.

you heard the main door swing open before hearing her move around the living room and kitchen. she must've forgotten something, you thought to yourself as you made your way toward the bedroom door you had previously closed behind you.

"rumi? did you forget something?" you ask as you open the door, just to find yourself staring at the stranger in the apartment who donned a black ski mask with some sort of weapon in their hand. unfortunately your voice had caught their attention and their head quickly turned toward you before bolting it down the hallway for you.

screaming, you quickly shut the door and locked it before the thief could get in. the rattle of the doorknob causes you to let out another shriek as you looked around for a way to protect yourself and to escape.

the only solution that came to your mind was to block the door with whatever heavy furniture mirko had on her room which consisted of her bed, a desk and her clothes drawers. you did your best to block the door, but it was proving to be not enough.

"open the door and i won't hurt you miss," the voice called out and you felt your stomach twist from their words.

you scurried around to look for your phone and thankfully found it amongst this chaos and your body went on auto-pilot and dialed the first person that came to your mind whenever you were in danger.

your shaky hand brought your phone to your ear as you ran into the furthest corner of her room. your free hand covering your trembling lips. please pick up.

"hello? (name)?"

"keigo please help me," you cried quietly so the person on the other side couldn't hear you, but the desperation in your voice was clear as day for hawks. "(name)? whats happening? where are you?" his voice was now firm and laced with worry as you began to sob in through the phone.

"i'm at mirko's and she just left for patrol but someone broke in and i hid myself in her room. i'm so scared, please come quick." and right after he heard you squeak in fear from the unidentified noises through your phone.

"i'm coming right now," you could hear the power his wings had as he lift himself into the sky, "does she have any windows you can exit from?" glancing behind you, you took a mental note that her windows were large enough for you to escape through—the only problem was mirko lived on the tenth floor.

squeezing your eyes shut, you nodded even though hawks could not see you, "yeah, but she doesn't have any escape ladders and i'm on the tenth floor." hawks cursed under his breath on the other side, "just hold on, i'm almost there."

clutching onto your phone, you jumped when the barricade you made against the door was getting tossed around from the force of the stranger on the other side trying to break in. scrambling around, you quickly unlocked the window before opening it, allowing the wind to flow in.

with another jolt from the door all of your barricades flew from the door, leaving it vulnerable. you knew the door would fall with his next move, so with trembling hands, you maneuvered your body outside the window, letting your bottom sit on the window frame.

from a distance, you could hear someone calling out your name. when you narrowed your eyes to focus, all of the stress left your body as you watched them shoot towards you. hawks had come to your rescue!

but hawks wasn't close enough.

the door behind you broke allowing the stranger into the room and before they could grab a hold of you, you jumped.

"(name)!"

as your body free fell down towards the earth, hawks used his wings to give himself one strong push forward before folding his wings tightly behind his back to gain speed to reach you.

reaching his arms out, he caught you in time before shooting back up towards the sky, "that was so stupid of you!" you shouted loudly against the wind, "what if i wasn't there in time?"

glancing up at him, you gave him a small smile, "i just knew you'd get to me in time ."

"agh, more paperwork i have to fill out!" mirko groans as she walks around her messy apartment after hawks and her had caught the suspect and had cops take care of him. as she walked away into her bedroom with a line of curses, you quietly turned over towards hawks who had his back facing you. he was on call with the commission.

"yep, i'll get that finished tomorrow," ending his call and stuffing his phone in his pocket, he turns around to find you staring at him. his cheeks flush slightly from the sudden eye contact, but he managed to compose himself. "are you doing alright? that must've been quite the terrifying experience."

"yeah, thanks for picking up. you were the first person i thought to call," you confess and he perks up. "oh yeah?"

"you've always kept me safe and i just really needed you when i was in danger. so thanks," giving him a smile he mirrors you. "of course, anything for you."

your heart flutters from his words, but you slightly turn yourself away, glancing down. you two were no longer dating, so there was no need to get butterflies over him again. "well, thanks again. you must have a busy day tomorrow."

"do you buy any chance still have that photo of you when you were out with mirko?" hawks asks suddenly causing you to glance up at him. "you know, when you two went out a couple weeks ago? you were all dolled up and honestly, just super pretty?" hawks says boldly with a sheepish grin.

"why are you asking?"

"send it my way."

you gawked at him, "you want me to send you a picture of me? we're not dating anymore, that would be weird!" hawks could only shrug, "okay, that's simple then. let's go on a date." you gawked even further, "what is going on inside of that bird brain? all this for a photo?"

"i want to be the one who takes those photos of you. i want to be the reason you get all dolled up. i know i messed up, (name). i've been changing the way i talk to my fans because i understand how i hurt you. could you give me another chance to make it better? i promise i will treat you the way you deserve to be treated."

this was coming too suddenly, your wounds were just starting to heal.

"you...you don't mean that, hawks," you say dejectedly as you back up to sit on mirko's couch. "i'm scared."

"he means it you know?" mirko pops out of the hallway suddenly and stands with her arms crossed against her chest as she stares at the two of you. "he's been asking me for that picture nonstop since he saw it online."

"but he really does love you still, (name) and i know you still love him too. go ahead and give it another shot, i'll be here to kick him to the curb if he does anything bad to you." she encourages, making you glance back towards hawks.

"promise?" your eyes are sparkly from the tears that had glossed over your eyes and hawks gives you a confident nod, "promise. i'll pick you up at six tomorrow?"

you couldn't help your growing smile, "yeah, i'll be waiting."

- e x t r a -

as hawks flew off towards his apartment, the notification ding of his phone went off causing him to take a look. you had sent him a text!

opening the message his eyes widen from the photo you sent, it was the cute pic of you all dolled up!

"i'm so in love!" he shouts loudly in the sky.

#hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x you #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #keigo x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader

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serendipitous-magic · 3 years

Note

What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

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1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

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2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

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3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

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4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

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5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

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6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

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7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

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8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

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9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

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10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

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11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery.

_-_

12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

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13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

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14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

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15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

_-_

16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story.

It also informs character behavior and personality.

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

-_-_-

I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.

#asks #anon #writing advice #writing tips #writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction #character creation #plot development #character development #my advice #original writing

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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 3 years

Text

what the fuck I just found this in my drafts I literally wrote this years ago, like a very significant number of years ago this is old shit

and apparently I just saved it and forgot about it??? anyway I polished it up and now it is here, I have no context and I barely even remember writing it, enjoy!

my apologies for the long post I still can't figure out how to do read mores in the app

edit: some lovely people have unformed me how to use readmores, thank you ~

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Jack was starting to wonder perhaps if he'd done something wrong.

It wasn't uncommon for him to accidentally say or do something to upset his wife or daughter, although usually when such an event occurred Maddie would glare at him to express her displeasure, and Jazz would always take the opportunity to tell him in exact detail what he'd done wrong and how to make it up to them (something he was honestly very grateful for).

It must have been something pretty bad this time, because both women wouldn't even look him in the eye.

Jack first twigged that something was off that morning during breakfast, when he sat in the empty chair by Jazz's side and gave his usual greeting, "Hey Jazzypants!"

She ignored his presence completely, steely eyes glued to the wall opposite her, they were puffy and red and Jack wondered perhaps if she'd been crying.

It had been a long time since her problems were easily pushed aside by her father's warm hugs and jovial attitude, he had stopped being able to handle a crying Jazz after she'd turned twelve and countered his attempts at humour by insisting that he 'stop trivialising her distress', whatever THAT meant.

Nevertheless, warm hugs and gentle jokes were the only method he knew and so he wrapped a comforting arm around her thin shoulders, noting that she continued to sit still as a rock, not even glancing his way as he tried to coax a smile out of her.

Jazz didn't say a word as she pushed herself away from her unfinished breakfast and left the room.

It was when he walked down to the lab intending to ask Maddie about Jazz that Jack started to suspect he may have been the one responsible, as it became apparent that the two had seemed to coordinate their punishment for whatever transgression he'd made.

"Hey Mads!" his voice boomed over the noise of his wife's current project. He strained to see through the bright light of her blow torch at the large gun-like weapon on the table. Jack whistled in appreciation is he took in the size of what he assumed was some kind of rocket launcher. "So what are we calling this one? Ooh! How about, The Fenton Spectre 'Sploder!"

Maddie's goggles made it difficult to see what expression adorned her face, but her tensed shoulders and the shaky grip on the blow torch told him that she was most certainly upset about something.

"Mads? Are you alright?" his voice quivered slightly as he took a few steps closer, seeing his wife this tense tightened a coil within his chest. Suspecting that he may be responsible added an extra weight to his stomach that he knew wasn't cause by the breakfast he'd skipped.

The light from the blow torch snapped off and Jack had to blink the bright spots it left behind from his vision, trying to peer through the blotches to find any indication that Maddie was going to acknowledge his presence. It seemed as though she'd looked his way for a moment but before his eyes could clear enough to meet hers she'd looked away again.

Jack watched, puzzled as his wife raised a hand to cover her mouth and catch the sob that ripped its way from her throat, she hadn't succeeded as the sound echoed across the lab and tore its way straight through Jack's heart, causing his eyes to sting and his throat to close up.

He reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, intent on giving her some form of comfort. He'd barely brushed it with his finger tips before Maddie stormed right past him up to the stairs, Jack had to quickly stumble backwards to avoid being trampled.

He couldn't imagine what he possibly could have done to elicit such a response from the woman he loved, but he knew for sure that he must have done something terrible for her to not seek him out for comfort like she did any other time she was upset. He just wished he could remember what.

Jack's shoulders slumped under the dim light of the glowing jars of ectoplasm lining the various counter-tops, he dry-swallowed a few times, trying to push down his confusion and distress before following his wife's light footsteps up the stairwell.

He found her in the kitchen, leaning against a counter with her goggles slung around her neck and her wild red hair loose around her head, abundant with the kinks and tangles Jack usually watched her brush out of it every morning.

"Mads?" Jack said, voice rough and quiet, "Look I... if I did something wrong I-" Jack's apology froze in his throat as Jazz poked her head through the kitchen door, eyes once again glancing right over Jack and instead locking onto her mother.

Neither woman shared a word as Jazz crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Maddie, who desperately grabbed at her daughter in return, burying her face in long red hair as violent sobs wracked her whole body.

Jack, at a loss of what else to do, wrapped his own arms around his girls. Nestling his chin on his daughters hair, he expected the annoyed scoff that Jazz usually gave him for his 'chin noogies', but it never came. Neither Fenton woman pushed him away though, so Jack considered it progress.

Finally, after an age of rocking and sobbing, Maddie's muffled words escaped through strands of Jazz's hair.

"Where is he? W-where'd he go, where'd he go?"

A deep chill coursed through Jack's veins, Danny? Had something happened to Danny? Jack pulled away, a million questions thrumming through his mind.

What happened? Was he missing? Was he hurt? Had he run away, been kidnapped, been kill- no. Jack shook his head violently, running a hand through the shorts strands of his thick hair. No he couldn't be. He couldn't be he couldn't be.

Jack's mouth was on the verge of catching up to his brain, multiple questions bubbled at his lips when he heard a voice echo down the stairs.

"Jazz?"

Jack took a steadying breath and grasped at the counter for support, relief flooding his body as his son rounded the corner and came into view. Danny was fine, Danny was safe. He had been fretting over absolutely nothing.

Then Danny's eyes locked into his.

A number of emotions flickered across his son's face, the first being a brief moment of sheer relief and delight, but it didn't last. Soon, too soon, Danny's dark brows pulled together and his lips curled sourly in confusion before a new expression swept it away. It was one Jack had never seen before.

He felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room, an icy chill prickled up his arms as the sudden wave of absolute horror overtook Danny's face. Jack couldn't tell if his son was about to break down crying or scream.

And then it was over. The tension in Jack's limbs released as Danny's face flattened into an unnaturally blank expression, he dropped his gaze and continued his way over to Maddie and Jazz. Once again it was like Jack wasn't even there.

Danny placed a hand on his mother's shoulder. "Maybe you should do another lap around town, you might find something today." he spoke softly into her frazzled hair.

Jazz looked at Danny strangely, her brother sent her back a glance that must have held some meaning because she then gripped Maddie tightly around the shoulders and led her straight out of the house, and suddenly Jack recalled that he still didn't know who it was that had gone missing.

"So... is anyone gonna tell me what's going on?" the jovial tone Jack meant to use came out flat and strained, Danny didn't look even remotely amused.

"I think you should sit down." Danny said quietly. He was no longer meeting Jack's eyes as he pulled out a chair for himself and one for his father.

Jack took the offered seat and prepared himself for the worst, obviously someone dear to Maddie and the kids had gone missing, Jack ran a list of all the people they knew, preparing himself for the worst, it was obvious Danny did not want to tell him what had happened. Perhaps whoever was missing was someone that Jack in particular had been close to? Was that the reason behind the horrified look on Danny's face? Because he'd realised he was going to have to be the one to tell him?

Something in Jack's gut told him he was on the wrong track, but try as he might he just couldn't imagine what else it could possibly be.

Jack kept his eyes on his son as the boy's thin torso straightened up in his chair and his icy blue stare bored into Jack's. Danny took a deep breath, then took several more, eventually he seemed almost ready to speak, Jack didn't rush him.

"Dad... you're dead."

#Bitter #danny phantom #lula's fanfics #jack fenton #I have zero context for this I barely even remember writing it #like this has to be 5 years old AT LEAST

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onyxheartbeat · 3 years

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Dear HIM/Ville Valo fans,

this is a long post but I must discuss this.

________

I came across this interview of Kat Von D from a few days ago. Before I get into my thoughts, below is a passage from her old book “Go Big or Go Home” which you may or may not have read. She wrote about Ville:

________

“I only knew his music, and I loved it on first listen. It was dark and it was beautiful. It was metal and it was poetry. It was love loaded into a gun, and I wondered about the man behind the songs. Two years later, our paths crossed, and like the majority of the connections I’ve made in life, tattooing brought us together. Through our first tattoo sessions, we began to get to know each other. For the next few years, I just thought of him as my friend from overseas, and that was all. Then, after knowing him for six years, something changed. It could have been the wine, the music, or the moon. Most likely it was just perfect timing. Just one kiss, and he changed my world. We were both sad back then, and lost. I was depressed, having finally ended a marriage that had been doomed from the beginning. I was also dealing with the pressures of filming a television show, which was totally new to me - and drinking my way blindly through it all. His story mirrored mine, and he had been feeling just as low. We had been waiting for something to happen, for someone or something to come along and save us from ourselves. And when it suddenly seemed that that someone was each other, it took us both by surprise. We shared darkness, and doing that bought light back into our somber worlds: for once, we didn’t feel alone.He’s the reason why I wanted to write music to begin with - and learn to sing. I remember the exact moment I made up my mind about making music. It was something I felt I needed to do, not for any reason other than a way to respond to him. It didn’t matter if the songs I’d write never saw the light of day, as long as he was able to listen to my music, my message to him. He had told me to look for a package at my door step, prefacing the delivery of the contents, his new album, saying, “These are all of the things that are easier sung than said.”I knew what he meant, but never imagined that each song would be filled with direct messages to me. I put the album on, and the music rushed out of the speakers and filled my house. His voice rang all around, making it’s way to the core of my heart with every word he sang. As cryptic as those lyrics may have been for anyone else, I knew exactly what each word meant and recognized every event and place he referred to. The songs were so beautiful, I just wished so badly that he could have said everything out loud just once to me. How should I respond to something like this? Where do I even start?The first time I saw him after I got sober, he was in town working on music. We sat in my office at the shop until the late hours of the night, talking and catching up about everything - music, home, art and work. Did we talk about love? No. We constantly danced around our past instead. What happened to us? I couldn’t find the courage to ask because I was scared of the answer I already knew. We decided to draw, with pencils and paper in front of us, we sat at opposite ends of the table. He pulled my three-minute timer from one of the nearby shelves, and placed it at the center of the table. He suggested we draw each other, and I was game. With a flip of the hourglass, the grains of sand moved from one vessel to the other, and we began.Sketching these timed portraits forced us to stare at each other, making it practically impossible to focus on the drawing itself. I had almost forgotten how beautiful his face was. He has a combination of eyes, lips, and a darkness to his looks that makes him look almost otherworldly. With him, I felt like I was at the center of an orderly, tranquil, magnificent universe. For those short three minutes, there were no questions about life or purpose. It was as if we never needed any more from each other than this.Like all people, I’ve suffered from love sickness and tasted the pain of love. The theatrical director of my mind, the one who staged all these versions of him and my life with him, seemed to be unaffected by reason. I was finding myself constantly day dreaming of the past.His eyes, his hands, his crooked smile - I’d ruminate over his features. Things he said. Things he did. Things he wrote. Things he drew. Things he sang. Over and over again, I’d sift through these images and memories as if they somehow contained the answer to my prayers. But I was living with a long-age memory of him; living so far away from the present moment.If we had spoken about what we were or what we thought we were, back when we got sober, I wouldn’t have been so confused, wandering what if, and writing the rest of our story in my mind. What did I expect? For him to magically not hear about me being in a relationship? And to not be bothered by it? If only he would have asked….. I would have….. If we could have only talked….. then things would be….. if we allowed ourselves to transform our fears of being open, vulnerable, then, I’d convince myself, we would be together. I realized that none of that mattered now. If I wanted to be free of this unrequited longing, I would have to make peace with the past and finally let it go. There was no way around it. But did I want to be free of it? - and him?I listened to one of his songs the other day. Out of all the songs he wrote on that album, this one was the most direct. He sings my name in the chorus. By the time the song is over, I’ve felt a range of emotions - I’m sad but happy, frustrated but calm. He sings about how I alone bring him to a place of stillness and peace within when we are together. What a victorious feeling - to enter into a place with him where no one else has been. To be able to bring goodness to and draw it out of someone. Those sweet thoughts were interrupted by an e-mail from him. Impeccable timing as always. It’s just a short note, letting me now he’s somewhere out there, thinking of me. He ends the message by calling me “Star Face” - his pet name for me from long ago that no one else uses. At that moment, I loathe him for it. I loathe him because I love him. Sometimes it feels like it would be so much easier to walk away from this if he’d just tell me that he hates me, that he wants nothing to do with me. But instead he calls me “Star Face.” There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not letting go, either.‘Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.’The silver plane hurtled over Newfoundland, over the Labrador sea. Someone told me I might see the northern lights as I fly east and north, but I wouldn’t have noticed as I was deep in writing the letter that I had already mentally composed long before I decided to make this trip to see him over New Year’s Day. I didn’t have to edit myself this time, I knew exactly what the letter would say.I reread the note to myself before sealing the envelope. Then I drew out the first letter of his name in pencil on the front. What a beautiful letter it was, probably my favorite out of the entire alphabet. A letter I was so used to writing myself. With ease the swirls and curves of each arch seemed to flow from my heart, my mind’s eye, drawn in and through my arms to my hands, releasing themselves onto the pale ivory paper envelope. My plane landed soon after.I had missed this country, I had missed him, too. I wondered how time had treated him ,for it had been a few years since I had last seen him. I wondered if I still had the ability to quiet his heart when he was feeling manic. He always said I had a way of doing that when I was near. And I wondered if he even needed me in that way anymore.When we met up, he looked just as beautiful as the day we saw each other for the first time, almost ten years before. And as if no time had passed, we started right where we left off - hours flew by in the comfort of each other’s presence. Talking. Catching up.He asked if I was getting sleepy, and my attempt at concealing the tiredness was transparent. I looked at the clock; maybe it was the jet lag or the clock hands pointing to midnight, but I knew it was time to say good-bye. Reluctantly, we both stood up and tried our best to part ways. As good as it felt to be near him again, I gave him the letter I had written letting him know that I was letting the nation of us go. He took the sealed envelope, and then I watched him walk away for what I assumed would be the last time.My heart didn’t belong locked up in a tower across the ocean from my home. It belonged in my chest, beating, living, feeling, sometimes hurting, but always loving. I deserved to be free, and understanding and needing that more than a dream, I was finally able to let him go.”

_________

Now, let me start by saying, I’ve never understood this and I still don’t. I’ve had that passage saved in my drafts for years because I keep almost anything pertaining to Ville.

I’ve been a HIM fan since I was about 15 years old, and have followed Ville’s life and work closely. The friendship between them was always apparent to HIM fans in those days, because we saw her in photos with the band often. I used to watch Miami Ink and LA Ink as regularly as pretty much anyone in those days, and I remember when this particular passage of her book was brought to light, the HIM fan base read it and we all had our thoughts. We were all aware of Screamworks being written about Kat (it’s obvious in the lyrics of the album) even though Ville never specifically said Kat’s name when asked about it in interviews.

I remember being baffled back when we as HIM fans discovered this passage from the book. I couldn’t imagine not making that relationship work if it was true love. I’m a bit biased because I adore Ville and he’s like a dream to me, but I just couldn’t understand it. It seemed like she took the relationship for granted or she didn’t love him enough to make it work; but I digress. I get it; love and relationships are complex.

Still, flash forward to this recent interview (the screenshot), she says it was unrequited love, and I’m still not understanding it. Why release all the songs now? Why didn’t she make it work if it was true love? Who is she trying to say was the one not reciprocating (as the word “unrequited” suggests) in the relationship? I don’t understand any of it. More than anything, I’ve had so many questions that I wish I could ask Ville about it all because he only spoke briefly about it all, and it was always rather cryptic.

I’m only writing this as a HIM fan, and because I love Ville and his lyrics on Screamworks so, so much (it’s an extremely underrated album in the HIM discography, in my opinion) so I’m letting any fellow HIM lovers know she wrote an album in response to it, in case you’re interested. I haven’t followed Kat or her work in many years, so I don’t know what to make of all this, but it’s always been extremely apparent to me when listening to Screamworks that a lot of heart went into it and even pain, not that his lyrics on other albums aren’t like that too, but I felt it more on Screamworks. I feel that Ville was the one who was truly heartbroken.

You all probably know from following my blog that I’m obsessed with love and unrequited love. Any romantic stories, bittersweet letters, heartbreak, longing etc. is just my favorite thing in the world so please excuse the long post, haha.

#ville valo #him #h.i.m.#h.i.m #him band #screamworks #his infernal majesty

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