#ooc: I do need write more for her;; hopefully in the future finish writing a Drabble I started working on with her story

[oathofpromises]

[ META ] + oath (for any of your paladins!)

I haven't gotten to talk a lot about Mako, so I'll use her for this question. To start off, Mako is my OC that I created to be kind of like an ancestor to Stella. It's a huge part of why she holds a connection to the crystal tower in my own wol lore. Some might think it's silly to make up a character that only existed during the Allagan Empire period, but it was important as to why she felt such a connection to the Crystal Tower during the Crystal Tower raid storyline.

Mako has a strong resemblance to Stella being her ancestor; her path to Paladin wasn't a typical one either. She started off as being nothing more than a commoner, yet she was very close to T'sori, the prince, at the time, and who I decided was brother to Princess Salina. This is where it is slightly divergent from canon lore, which is fine because, honestly, sometimes we prefer to have things strictly for our own character lore. Anyway, Mako, being as close as she was to T'sori, decided to pursue the path of Paladin. At the time, the Emperor was searching for someone to be the prince's knight. Someone would be his chosen shield, so she trained from a young age until she reached 26 and eventually was sworn in as T'sori Paladin.

Her oath was to keep him safe from harm, no matter what, even if that meant she would end up getting hurt herself, and many times she had come back injured, keeping the prince shielded from anything that their enemies would toss their way. The sad thing about their background is how deeply they cared for each other, but Mako wasn't a princess or had any royal blood in her veins, so she was forbidden to pursue anything more with T'sori. However, the prince wasn't as willing to listen, so their love was one that was hidden behind closed doors. She couldn't hold his hand out in public and be intimate with him when others were around.

The hardest part for Mako was swearing the oath. She had to always keep him safe, but having such intense feelings for T'sori, she was forced to watch over him as the Emperor had the prince met with many princesses or women he considered worthy. Ultimately, we know little of how the Allagan Empire fell. Just what was revealed mostly in the game, so to expand on that, there is some lore where she does end up helping a wounded T'sori to the throne but has to watch as he slips away. His spirit remains inside the crystal tower but isn't discovered much later, and shortly after that, the Paladin faded away from her own injuries, but the tower was not done with her. The woman spirit too would remain right beside T'sori, waiting for the day the next heir to the throne or possessed the Allagan red eyes would open the tower once more.

I need to write more about Mako on here, but...in all, her oath as a Paladin was her entire life. Even more, before she even became a Paladin she had promised to keep T'sori safe. Be his shield—anything he needed. The whole story with them is something I am working on with @diademreigned since it’s related to their G’raha and our dynamic with those two. All I can say is that these two go through just as much as Stella and G’raha do.

[fireflykaizoku]

Heya! I know you’ve done 3 soulmate fics now, but with the sort of angsty feel with Mimi-ya’s request I was wondering if a Katakuri x reader, in regards to the age difference he had given up hope that it was even possible for him to have happiness outside of his family, would make for a good read and also possibly dangerous for reader to come face to face with Big Mom and all those siblings! Thank you x

Hii! i'm sorry i took long to finish it, but i kept watching OP and reading more about Katakuri, since it's my first time writing for him. Since i'm still on episode 850, i was afraid it'd be a bit ooc. If it is, i'm so sorry! my writing for Katakuri will improve as i finish the arc. I hope you like it anyway, it was fun to write it ❤

Your family was rich and well-known around the Grand Line. Being the only daughter, they were trying to find a husband for you, a political marriage that could be good for both families, especially yours. They had a list of potential husbands, but you didn’t bother checking it since you were too focused on your birthday party. It was a small party, just with close friends and family, but you wanted everything to be perfect.

And it was. You had so much fun around people you loved, it was hard to fall asleep after that; you were genuinely happy.

Before opening your eyes, you could already feel the sweet smell, something like candy, donuts or cake. Thinking it was maybe a belated birthday breakfast, you opened your eyes and was ready to jump out of the bed when you realized the bedroom was completely different from yours. And as soon as you looked down, you realized that body definitely wasn’t yours. The toned chest, tattoos and the scarf around your neck weren’t yours.

You could only feel happiness and relief, you were glad you already switched bodies with your soulmate. Who knew it’d be that fast? But you wanted to see more of him, so you got up and started looking for a mirror in his room. The reflection surprised you at first, not being the kind of soulmate you expected to have. He had tattoos, crimson hair, and apparently was very tall. In fact, he was huge. When you put the scarf down a little, you noticed he had scars, and you assumed that’s why he covered his mouth. He also had fangs, which you thought were extremely charming. He wasn’t ugly, in fact, he was far from that. He was very handsome. Intimidating, of course. But very handsome.

Looking around, you found a vest, and on the back, you noticed “Charlotte” written on it.

— Charlotte? — you whispered to yourself, thinking you’ve seen that name somewhere until you finally realized after a couple of minutes.

— He’s one of Big Mom’s son!

You remember when your parents were trying to find a husband for you, his name came up a couple of times. It was probably Charlotte Katakuri. You’ve never seen any pictures of him, but you knew he was a very strong and powerful man.

After a couple of minutes just looking at his figure in the mirror, admiring his traits, a knock on the door brought you back to reality.

— Katakuri-sama, it’s almost time for Big Mom’s tea party. — someone said, outside the room before leaving right away.

You heard about the famous Tea Parties, but you didn’t even know how to behave. You knew there would be so many people, powerful people, and some probably well known as well, so you couldn’t take the risk of things going wrong.

You couldn’t describe the relief you felt when you noticed a den den mushi in the corner of the room. Perfect! You’d call him, explain everything and hopefully he’d be there just in time for the party.

It took a couple of minutes, but finally someone answered. You got quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say.

— Charlotte Katakuri? — you asked, a bit nervous.

— It’s me. I assume you’re (L/N) (F/N)? — you hummed in response. — I see you’re my soulmate and we switched bodies.

— Yes, and you have a Tea Party to attend today. Do you think we can switch back before then?

— Unfortunately, no. Your island is quite far from the Whole Cake Island. Can you go instead? You’ll just have to sit without saying anything. It won’t last too long, and when it’s over you go straight to your room.

— But what if… I need to fight? I don’t know how to… — he interrupted you.

— Don’t worry, it shouldn’t have an attack. But if anything happens, look for Brûlée and explain everything. I’ll be there before the sunrise, and we’ll be able to switch back, hopefully.

He seemed so calm even in a situation like this. But following his advice, you went to the party. It was fun and there was delicious food everywhere, but you couldn’t disrespect your soulmate and remove the scarf off. Maybe when you switch back you can ask Katakuri to let you eat a few.

You started sweating whenever Big Mom or any of his kids got near you, trying to talk. So to avoid raising any suspicions, you just nodded the whole time. And whenever you heard a fuss, your soul felt like it’d leave your body, worried it’d be a confront. If you had to fight today, acting like Katakuri, you wouldn’t know what to do.

You were hungry, but too shy to ask for anything. As if someone heard your thoughts, a few small men knocked on your door, bringing donuts. Not just two or three, but many donuts. They bowed and left quickly.

After eating half of it, you fell asleep. You were very anxious since you’d meet your soulmate in a few hours, but your eyelids got heavier and you couldn’t fight the sleep anymore. You woke up a few hours later with someone gently tapping your arm. When you opened your eyes, you realized Katakuri had arrived.

You were still sleepy, and sat on the bed, rubbing your eyes until you actually felt awake. The height difference was quite a lot, and it was funny. You had to sit on the floor so the two of you would be face to face.

— Hello, Katakuri. — you felt incredibly shy now.

— Good morning. — he tried to hide the fact he was embarrassed, and was hoping you couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating.

— This… Is it the time when we kiss?— you suggested, looking away. Would he think you were being too straightforward?

— Yes… We should… Kiss.

You pulled the scarf down slowly with your now cold hands. You closed your eyes, feeling very nervous. You kissed a few times before, but it still felt like something new. Especially now that it wasn’t just a random person, it was your soulmate.

Noticing you were waiting for him to make a move, he moved closer, sealing your lips together. Just a peck at first, until you gave him permission to deepen the kiss. Both of you were shy, and the kiss was a bit clumsy. Maybe he haven’t had many kisses too.

You didn’t have to open your eyes to realize you two had switched back, his big and strong hands holding your face was a sign that it worked. You rested your head on his hand, looking at him with eyes full of admiration and a soft smile on your lips.

— Aren’t you… Scared or disgusted? — he asked, feeling insecure now that his face was exposed to you.

— Why would I be? — you genuinely asked, smiling softly.

— Because… Of my mouth. I’m not how you probably wanted your soulmate to look like, and I don’t want you to think you have to put up with me because we’re soulmates. Now that we switched back, you can go if you want to. — his voice didn’t seem angry, as if he was demanding you to leave. It sounded sad, as if he had been through a lot.

You heart ached just to think that someone had the courage to hurt your soulmate.

Little did you know that many people treated him differently, not wanting to be around him or making fun of him because of his appearance; little did you know that while most of his siblings found their soulmates already, and he spent most of his life thinking he didn’t deserve his other half. Little did you know that he gave up on finding someone and started to deal with the fact that only his family would be able to love him.

But now, after meeting you, he threw his rational self out of the window. He felt like he could love someone; marry someone for a reason other than just a political marriage. But would you want him just like he wants you?

— We switched back, right? — you caressed his face softly. He wasn’t expecting it, no one has ever been this gentle with him before. — That means we’re in love.

— I don’t want you to be with someone like me, you’d only be in danger. — he turned his face not to see you. — You wouldn’t be able to deal with my siblings. It won’t be like playing house, and it won’t be like the marriage you might be expecting.

You got quiet, taking a deep breath. He wouldn’t push you away easily. Katakuri noticed your silence, and was expecting you to leave the room, agreeing that life with him wouldn’t be the perfect calm life you probably wanted. Instead, before he could even use his haki to have a glimpse of the future, you turned his face and pecked his lips.

— I won’t give up so easily. — you crossed your arms. — You’re my soulmate and I won’t leave you just because you think I can’t deal with a dangerous lifestyle. I want you, and if you want me too… We can make this work.

Looking at your face that was looking at him with love in your eyes, how could he say “no”? Maybe Big Mom would be willing to accept this relationship and give her blessing, and his siblings would be happy for him. He could even pretend it was all because of your family and their power at first.

His stomach started growling before he could say anything.

— I’m sorry, I only ate a few donuts while I was in your body. — you felt a little embarrassed about what you were about to ask. — But I wanted to eat some of the sweets yesterday. Do you think… — he didn’t let you finish the question.

— You can have the sweets, I’ll ask to get them delivered for breakfast. — he covered his face with the scarf again. — For now, you should sleep. We’ll have a long day meeting my family tomorrow.

[draconscious]

Things I like my RP partners to know.

I like to be called: Dan! That’s my name.

One thing you should know about me: I am going to have very weird-paced, sporadic activity until at least December! I work a demanding full time healthcare job and am currently finishing graduate school, which (unfortunately) really cuts into my writing time here. When I finish writing up a draft for school or documentation for work, I often don’t feel like writing anymore--I want to hang out with friends, get outside/away from the compy, and/or grind Hollow Knight. 

I still love writing here (have been since 2013) and being a part of the community (everyone’s content gives me life), but I’ve learned to freely take my time and space away from the dash whenever I need to. Until December (which is when I hopefully graduate), I want people to know that my attention will be all over the place. If I miss a message or take too long to reply to you, please (gently) remind me and please also know that 99.9% of the time, it’s not personal! When I clock out of work and finish up drafting, part of my brain clocks out too LOL.

I’m sorry to those who are frustrated with the pacing/forgetfulness, and I’m grateful for the people who have stuck around so far--appreciate you!

One thing you should know about RPing with my character(s): One thing I would like to say is this: please don’t get offended if my characters don’t take an immediate liking to yours right away. Barry (@gogogobarry​) is a big ball of sunshine of course, so this heads-up doesn’t really apply to him--but Clair is prickly, cold, and frustratingly stubborn, while Eris/Jupiter (@pridepoisoned​) is just evil (in a subtle, masked with a smile sort of way.) 2/3rds of my characters are hard to get along with, and I like them that way.

This note is mainly for Clair. Since I’ve gone indie, a surprising amount of people have messaged (or vented at) me to ask why Clair is being so mean to their character (usually some form of “why can’t they be friends right off the rip?”) I want to be clear: it’s not like characters can’t be friends with Clair at all! Personally, I just like to build friendships (or rivalries) up over time/extended interactions, and I won’t sacrifice Clair’s personality to quick-start a relationship with someone out-of-canon/unfamiliar to her. In my portrayal, Clair has yet to meet a lot of people, has yet to visit all the regions...and I think that unfamiliarity leaves more room for her future growth. 

I guess this sounds like a bit of a vent, but it’s not meant to be! I just wanted to say that Clair might be frosty or hostile towards your muse at first, and I’m aware that it’s not everyone’s cup of tea--I just wanted to clear the air and say that I still welcome all interactions and Mun =/= Muse. This also goes both ways: please don’t feel the need to be nice to my muses, especially if it’s ooc for your muse. I love a little tension with my fluff, LMAO.

[Other stuff (including NSFW stance and RP preferences) under the cut!] 

First language: English!

Age range: under 13 | 14–17 | 18–22 | 23–25 | 26–29 | 30+ | 40+ | 70+

Am I okay with NSFW?: yes | no | some nsfw 

(I’m including this disclaimer because of past experiences and general godmoddery, so please note: I rarely find myself writing NSFW, and I will tag and cut my posts that feature it. Aside from violence, I will be extremely selective when it comes to writing NSFW (and even with violence, please let me know before injuring my characters or doing something equally drastic. I’ll probably be down in the end, but communication is everything!)

My favorite/most common thing to rp is: angst | fluff | smut | crack | action | plots | AUs | violence | darker themes | casual themes

(I am a total AU enjoyer. I find that AUs help bring otherwise-disconnected characters together, so if you have an idea that floats your boat, please let me know!)

Canon Character RP Friendly?: yes | no 

RP blog: does contain ooc posts | doesn’t contain ooc posts | occasionally contains ooc posts 

(Since my activity levels are so inconsistent lately, I like to keep people updated on my life/status from time to time. I will delete most ooc posts after about a day or so.) 

tagged by: @unovasrose​ (on Barry! Thanks, Emme!)

[chick-from-nz]

Paper, Scissors, Rank (Ch: 3)

CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually) 

WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, spelling and grammatical errors. Could be very OOC/AU for some. Carrillo might not be cannon accurate for some as this is an AU. Flippy, floppy point of views (if it can be called that?), some oc x Army!oc 

AUTHORS NOTE:  hopefully y'all enjoy this chapter, sorry for the high amount of OC on OC content in this chapter, also i was writing this late at night so its probably a lil disjointed, but ah, yeah you’ll see why soon. More of the Colonel is this chapter, finally, but yeah. enjoy!

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

CHAPTER: 3 OF ?

TAG LIST (OPEN) : @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @xxidontwikeitxx @nicke0115 @allalngthewtchtower @lettherebrelight

It seemed wishful thinking really did not pay off for Cadet Greyson, the next two days of training went by without so much of a sighting of the Colonel, who at this point, was still nameless to her and her fellow cadets. Maybe he hadn't seen someone worth his while within the current platoon and had instead decided to leave for the main base to find a more adequate soldier. Greyson dismissed that thought as quickly as it came. Surely he would want a fresh little soldier to mold into his perfect team member, why else would he be sniffing round the training grounds if not for that reason. But as it seemed, no one other than herself had seen the Colonel around. So maybe he was really just a figment of her imagination then.

Pffft, as if, you can’t make THAT man up. He is pure sin of the utmost devine kind  Greyson giggled quietly to herself. She had definitely gone mad from the deathly amount of exhaustion they had faced since the assessment day.  That or maybe I hit my head when I fell from that stupid wall.  Again she giggled to herself. Nope , definitely gone mad.

Another thing that struck her as odd was that she hadn’t seen  LT. Colonel Sinclair since their less than professional interactions two days ago. Hopefully he finally came to his senses and decided she wasn't worth the effort and that her rank was far below anything worthy of his attention. For some reason though, that thought struck a cord inside of her, one that frightened her. She was in over her head with this guy, way over her head and rank. Even if he was drop dead gorgeous.  Definitely not as attractive as a certain handsome Colonel.  A little inside voice reminded her. God, that was the last thing she needed, falling for a guy with an even higher rank, if she wasn’t frowned upon already she definitely would be then.

Shaking the idea from her mind, she stood up and continued packing up her kit. The company was to head back to the training base today. A welcome thought for all the recruits within the area. The thought of sleeping on a bed that wasn’t below zero temperature to the touch and fully functioning warm showers seemed to be pushing them to move faster and more fluidly as a team than ever before. There is never a more motivated team than a team that has a single goal in common . Sometimes she hated her father but she never knew that saying to be more true than it was now.

It took the recruits approximately thirty minutes to have the campsite return to the pristine state it was before they laid camp only four days earlier, despite the fact said week had felt like a month long mission.  Despite all the recruits being overworked and their patience stretched thin with each other, all of the thirty recruits had passed their final assessment week, which would mean all of them would graduate together. An accomplishment for all and a first for a company of this size.  Yet, it was obvious from an outsider looking in, that this company was definitely not a team of thirty like they should be. The distinct scores between the top three recruits and the rest had seemingly made the company into two teams. The twenty seven cadets who had done enough to pass, and the three cadets who had excelled beyond all expectations in every single area of the training. The elite cadets of the company some might say.

The next few hours flew by for the cadets, a long bus ride back to base, stowing away their kit and polishing boots to get their rig from exercise standard back  to office standard. Rumors' had been passed around that tonight there was to be a big meeting for the cadets to attend. There was a palpable excitement coursing through the mess as everyone tried to guess what the meeting was about, many speculated that they would be introduced to the Colonel, while others thought it was a congratulations for completing their assessment week. Although, it was safe to say, that many of the recruits were hoping for the former of the two, and maybe if that happened one of them would be formally offered a spot on the Colonel’s intel squad.

Without even knowing the name of the Colonel there was already a bet running between the female cadets about the attractiveness of the foreign officer. Some girls bet that he was going old and undesirable due to his rank,  while others bet he was a “young stud”. Greyson had kept her thoughts to herself but would often scoff at the descriptions the girls came up with, not one of them was even getting close to what the Colonel looked like, which instilled a strange sense of pride within the cadet. But also a high level of confusion as not a single recruit in the platoon had ever mentioned seeing an unknown officer with the instructors a mere two days ago.

As the evening progressed the recruits waited for an announcement to be made over the speakers for them to move to the scran hall or into the common area for the meeting. By eight o’clock the recruits finally heard the speakers crack to live, waking most of them from an evening of well deserved rest. The recruits followed the instructions given to them and made haste towards the common area a short march away from their barracks. Upon arriving, dismissing and gathering in the space many recruits seemed to deflate at the lack of an unfamiliar face.

“Good evening cadets, as you know there is a Columbian Colonel on base observing the ins and outs of some squadrons so he can choose a select few members from different corps so join his intelligence team. Over the past week he was in and out of the training grounds observing most of you knowing. By the end of your longest day he had made a tough decision between two of the cadets sitting in this room, along with choosing your squadron leader, Lieutenant O’Connor here to be a part of his squad. In saying that, the colonel is yet to inform us of which cadet sitting in this room is the lucky new member of his squad. I shall take it upon myself, as the commander of the unit, to inform you as soon as I know” LT. Colonel Sinclair’s speech seemed to drone on for most of the cadets in the room. They were tired, beyond so, and were just wishing he would allow them to leave as soon as possible, but as it seemed, he wasn’t finished yet.

“I will be taking time this coming week to pull each of you into my office to discuss your future in the force and what corps you are now eligible to join due to your overall scores gained from the past twenty weeks of your training. Once you have all been assigned to a core you shall receive your patches and berets and be formally welcomed into your chosen field before you graduate. The last week of training will consist of core introductions and briefs and finalization of drill before your graduation day. I will offer you all a very big congratulations for making it through training and wish you all the best for your futures in the force. You are dismissed”

At the dismissal most of the cadets all but jumped from their chairs, having been given no more orders for the night it was to be a peaceful night ahead. And many of them would be heading straight to the barracks for sleep.  Greyson began to make her way from the room following slightly behind her fellow classmates only to be stopped by the LT. Colonel calling out to her. Stopping abruptly at the order she turned around and walked back towards him, the whole time wondering if this was gonna be another one of his ‘teasing moments’.

“Sir, not to overstep but I would like to get back to the barracks and back to my pit before I drop on my feet” Greyson said kindly to make it very clear to the LT. Colonel in front of her that she was suggesting and definitely not ordering him around, that was the last thing she wanted to do.

“This will only take a moment Greyson, I assure you that...” the LT Colonel trailed off, waiting for his subordinate to acknowledge, before continuing on, “I wanted to congratulate you personally on you achievements over the cadets course, you have set multiple records with the scores you have obtained and I wanted to let you know that you are the top recruit from your intake”

Shifting on her feet awkwardly Greyson nodded in thanks, silently acknowledging her own achievements and also trying to stay awake for the conversation. The LT. Colonel took a step closer to her, again entirely to close from a professional standpoint, and placed his hand on her shoulder, steady and firm, making her whole body tense up at the initial contact before she subtly, or so she thought, relaxed far too much under his touch. She had, after all, had no contact from anyone since joining the army, as was protocol, but it had left her touch starved, and in her tired state, far too ready to throw rank out the window and do something that broke far too many rules.

The LT. Colonel noticed the way she relaxed under his touch and decided to push the boundary a little further bringing the cadet in front of him into a tight hug, to which she returned all too eagerly. While absorbed in each other's embrace they failed to notice one of the other cadets, Cadet Lewis, watching from the door. Lewis was Greyson’s roommate and had stayed behind when she noticed she wasn’t behind her like she should have been.

Greyson sank into the embrace, although knowing that this was highly against almost all rules put in place she couldn’t bring herself to care. Yes he was her commanding officer, and yes she was but a lowly cadet, but in that moment wrapped within his strong arms and snuggled closely into her chest, she had never felt more relaxed. She let out one long shaky breath, one that he definitely felt, and pulled away from him. She needed to keep the relationship professional till she graduated, and probably even after then, god knows her father wouldn't want her to disgrace his name.

As she pulled away from his warm embrace she dared a glance up, there was a look of what almost seemed like longing and affection in the eyes of the man before her, and a look of want, the emotions she found in his intense brown eyes made her shiver. She watched as his eyes glanced down towards her lips, then slowly back up to her eyes as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Shamefully her own eyes were then transfixed on his mouth, and for a small moment, she pushed the thoughts of rank out the window as his head dipped down and his lips captured hers in a bruising kiss. The shock that came from the kiss had her gasping into his mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to tangle his tongue with hers, she felt his hands start to wander down her back, and further still to her ass. The shock of this seemed to finally bring her to her sense, cause not a second later she was pushing him away and taking a few steps back for good measure.

Standing there staring at the LT Colonel, chest heaving in time with his, sheer horror overcame her sense. What had she just done? Wiping a hand down her face to clear her thoughts she knew she needed to end this before it started, even if the kiss was better than nay she had had.

“Sir, I..” Greyson trailed off, she was struggling to find the right words for the situation, she didn’t want to reject him in a harsh way, or reject him at all if she was being totally honest with herself, but she knew this was the only thing that would save her career from being a shit-fight. “I’m sorry Sir, I can’t do this, I’m sorry” and with those final words she dismissed herself and promptly left the room for the safety of her barracks. In her rush to get away from an awkward moment, she failed to notice the  LT. Colonel’s face fell and the way he had to refrain himself from reaching out to touch her.

Breathing heavily and overcome with emotion, Cadet Greyson finally made it back to her barracks, a room she shared with but one other cadet, the luxury of being an officer in training. To her shock her roommate, Cadet Lewis, was still awake, and by the looks of it, she had been waiting for her to get back.

“So, you're fucking the LT Colonel right? That's how you've made it to the top of the points board” Cadet Lewis hissed at her

“I... what the fuck are you talking about Lewis, I earnt my place on that board by beating the rest of you lazy fucks in the events fair and square. And what the fuck do you mean, fucking the LT. Colonel, what gives you that idea?!” In her already distressed state Greyson was finding it hard to process the accusation thrown at her by the cadet in front of her.

“Oh fuck off Greyson, don’t play dumb with me. All the cadets see the way he looks at you and how he treats you differently from the rest of us! And don't act like you weren’t just smooching up to him in the common room, I saw it all”

Greyson felt sick to her stomach, if Lewis had seen it all she could have just lost the right to be here if she decided to run her mouth. She forced herself to turn around before muttering, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Lewis”

Lewis just scoffed, “yeah right, what you think you are exempt from the rules because your daddy was in the force too? Fuck right off Greyson, you’ve got another thing coming if you think you’re gonna get away with this”

Greyson felt her stomach flip, god, the stupid cadet behind her really just pulled that card. She knew she came from an army background but she definitely was not sleeping her way to the top, no matter what the other cadets thought. But at the mention of her father, the sickness turned to anger and she rounded on Cadet Lewis, giving her the harshest glare she could muster, lips curled up in a snarl and a finger pointed in the direction of the other recruit she growled out, “You bring my fucking father into the mess that you’ve made up in that thick skull of yours and I’ll use my name to my advantage. I’m sure your family would love you to return home with Dishonorable discharge plastered all over your report, wouldn’t they?”

Greyson had to to hold back her smirk when she noticed the way the other cadet clammed up and how her face fell. Yeah that's right, bring my father into this and I’ll use it to my advantage you useless trash. And without so much as another word Greyson walked out of the room, slamming the door to their room for emphasis. She was sure almost all the recruits in the block had heard what had just transpired but she honestly couldn’t care less. She made her way out of the barracks building and towards the gym, she needed to get the tension out of her muscles and a workout would be the easiest outlet.

In her haste and far too deep within her own thoughts, Greyson failed to lift her head to see where she was going, and as she rounded the final corner that led to the gym she came to an abrupt halt, slamming into a wall, or at least that's what it felt like. It wasn't until a pair of strong hands moved to steady her did she realize she hadn’t in fact run into a wall at all, just the widest chest she’d ever felt the pleasure of being this close too. She presumed it was one of the infantry boys, they were usually in the gym this late so it would make sense. Except, as far as she knew, none of the boys had the last name  Carrillo.

[melancholydreadfuldream]

Going Under Part Two

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 13th Doctor x Reader

Summary: An accident during a routine adventure made your life spiraled out of control with only the Doctor as the anchor. Will you ever find your way back to your Doctor again?

Trigger Warning: ooc, angst, plot holes as usual, attempted suicide, dark!doctor, death, insanity, etc. You have been warned.

More warning: English is not my first language so beware of the headache you will receive upon reading this.

A/N: Yup, still a very disastrous story and I still have no idea how to wrap it up in a pretty bow. Hopefully, this story will be interesting enough to get a positive feedback? I guess I'm just going to be evil person and post it anyway regardless how cringe-worthy this is. But if you find this story interesting, kindly leave comment etc please.

 Part Three

"It's you..."

  I blinked at the young man before me.

  "It's Rory." He supplied when he realized I don't remember his name.

  "Right, you and your wife are with the Doctor."

  "You remembered me?"

  "Yeah."

  "Where did you go before?"

  "Honestly I have no control of where I'm going on. So, where is the Doctor?" I asked.

  If I'm going to be thrown away to every version of the Doctors, I might as well make them investigate the damn scientists so wherever I go next, maybe one of them could give me the answer or the cure.

  "Everyone teased me. They said you are my imaginary friend." Rory complained.

  "Well, now you can introduce your imaginary friend to them." I said with a small smile.

  He snorted at that. "I guess Amy is no longer the only one whose imaginary friend become real. What is your name again?"

  "(name)." I said.

  "Ook, (name), if you don't mind me asking, what happened to you?" He asked, gesturing to his own neck and mine.

  I realized I look like shit with the mark in my neck like I was some victim of a crime. I sighed and wonder if I could borrow some new clothing that can cover the mark.

  The mark serves well to gain their sympathy I suppose, makes them nicer to the victim in me but I'm not sure I want to play that card.

  "Had an accident." I replied.

  Rory stared at me in disbelief.

  I didn't expect to see Eleventh Doctor again. It seemed he was a different one from the one I met at Christmas because he didn't recognize me.

  There was two women with him. A red-haired young woman and an older curly-haired one. Amy and River, Rory said.

  "Everyone, meet (name)." Rory announced loudly.

  The Doctor, Amy and River stared in shock at me.

  "I told you she is real." Rory said a bit smug.

  I waved at them with a small smile as I braced myself for interrogation.

  "What? What? Who are you? How did you get into my Tardis?" The Doctor demanded.

  "Chill, bow tie, I came in peace...sort of." I said. "And I don't have much time before the next splinter...so listen up."

 I told them everything. Once I finished telling them, I sighed. "I really should start writing the explanation on a book to save more time for the next new Doctors I met." I said. "Could I borrow some notebook?" I asked and stopped to take a look at myself. "And some new clothes from the Tardis wardrobe?"

  The Doctor and River look intriqued with my predicament. He sonicked me and asked for blood sample which I gave.

  River pulled me and took me to the Tardis telepathic circuit for coordinates for the planet the scientists are. Hopefully, they did exist here. I need answers and I pray to God that someone give answers and the cure soon.

  Rory fetch me a blank notebook while Amy took me to change clothing. She is curious about the mark on my neck but I didn't say anything.

"So your doctor is a woman?" Amy asked as she waited outside the bathroom while I took a quick shower. 

  I was grateful that I wasn't ripped away from this reality during my quick shower, that would be embarrasing. I pick up a new set of comfortable clothing. I wore a hoodie jacket so I could hide the mark on my neck beneath it.

I grinned at Amy as I got out of the bathroom. "What do you want to know?"

  Amy grinned back at me. "What was she like? And what weird outfit she choose to wear this time?"

  I pulled out of my smartphone. "I can show you pictures."

  "Give me." She look so excited and it put a smile on my face.

  I showed her our group selfie. I told her about the Doctor and the fam. She led me to the kitchen for some snack.

  "Oh, I wish River is here to see this." Amy said with a laugh when she saw the pictures.

  I was surprised to learn that River is the Doctor's wife. If it was any normal day, I would be upset but after everything that happened to me, it just seemed beneath me to be upset about it. And it's not like the Doctor, my Doctor, is in relationship with me. So I have no right to be upset with her.

  Rory entered the room and gave me a blank notebook and a pen and a small bag to carry it. So very thoughtful of him.

  I smiled gratefully at him.

  "Are you really going to write it all in that book?" Amy asked.

  I stared at the notebook. If only the words I have in mind could magically appear on the pages that would be great.

"Err, do you mind if I take a look at your neck?" Rory asked. "I'm a nurse, you see, I might be able to help."

 I glanced at him and seeing the genuine concern in his eyes, I agreed. He gave me some balm for my neck. He also gave me some aspirin when I complained about having a headache from time to time. I was grateful as I kept the items on my pocket.

  "Thank you, Rory, Amy." I said as I grabbed the notebook and pen and put it inside the bag. "Tell everyone the same." I pulled the bag strap over my body as I stood up and smiled at them.

  Rory and Amy exchanged a confused look.

  7777

I blinked at the sudden change in my surrounding. I was not on board of the Tardis. I was in some kind of...meeting room?

"(name)..." A small hoarse voice greeted me out of nowhere.

I turned around and at first I didn't saw anyone and then I saw...it? There was a some kind of bird cage and inside there is some small creature in a suit? What?

"(name)..." The wide-eyed creature glanced up at me. "Run..." It said. "It's not safe...."

My jaw dropped. "What?" I took a step hesitantly toward it. "W-who are you? H-how do you know my name?"

"It's me..." It said. "Doc-tor."

"What?!" I yelled. "Did you...? W-what? Doctor?"

The Doctor nodded weakly.

"B-but what h-happened to you? Did you get cursed by a witch or something?"

The Doctor look annoyed. "Something like that. It isn't safe here, (name). You have to go."

"But what about you?"

"Leave before he come back."

"W-who? Who did this to you?"  I asked.

  "That would be me." Another voice said from behind me.

  I turned around and saw a man in a suit, staring at me curiously. 

  "Who are you? How did you get on board of the Valiant?" He asked.

  "Leave her alone, Master." The Doctor stood up weakly inside the cage.

  The Master smirked. "And why would I do that?"

  "You are the Master?!" I asked dumbly.

  "You know of me then?" The Master stared at me. "A companion of yours, Doctor?" He turned to glance at the Doctor. "A secret one, it seemed since I have no note about you at all from the investigation." He said as he smirked evilly at me.

  I gulped. I did met the Master before back when I was with my Doctor and the fam. I know he is evil. To think he would be so cruel to turn the Doctor into whatever creature he now is and put him on a cage for display? Despite my fear, I felt a surge of protectiveness. I wish I have a weapon of some kind now. I probably should have it from the beginning. I am really foolish, am I not? To keep leaving myself defenseless, how stupid I can be?

  "What have you done to the Doctor?" I demanded.

  The Master laughed at me. "Oh, him? That's just his age catching up on him. Isn't he look adorable though?" He asked with a mocking tone.

  I wanted to punch this bastard so much.

  "(name), don't." The Doctor reprimanded me. "Leave now."

  "Oh she's not going anywhere, Doctor." The Master said as he walked circling me like a predator. "I am getting bored and now we can have some more new fun with her."

  I shuddered at the chilling smile of the Master. I really do want to leave but where can I go? I have to wait for the splinter to happen. It was out of my control. 

  The Master suddenly grabbed one of my wrist firmly. "Now who are you then?"

  "Let go of me!" I screamed as I tried to get his hand off my wrist.

  "Leave her be, Master!" The Doctor demanded helplessly.

  The Master laughed at our demands. "Idiots the both of you!!" 

  "I'm nobody!" I yelled immediately.

  "You know the Doctor so you can't be just a nobody." The Master said. When he realized I would not tell him anything, he rolled his eyes. "Fine, the hard way it is." He suddenly grabbed both side of my head and smirked cruelly before he put his forehead over mine. 

  I could hear the Doctor yelled at the Master but all I could felt is pain, so much pain inside my head. I screamed as I struggled against his tight grip.

  "Interesting. Alternate universe, huh? Oh, you did have met me before...." The Master grinned as he pushed his way inside my mind.

  "Please, stop, it hurts..." I pleaded. My nose started bleeding.

  The Master ignored me and pushes some more. "Ooh, Doctor, it seemed your alternate future-self has gone insane. My kind of Doctor..."

  "Stop it!" The Doctor pleaded. "You are killing her, Master!"

  "Hmm, that is one interesting weapon. I think you just made my day, girlie, you will be my next project." He said.

  I could feel the tingling as I realized I was about to be ripped away from this reality so I kneed him in the groin in retaliation. 

  The Master definitely didn't expecting that as he release me and fell to the ground, clutching his groin. "Bitch..." he whispered in pain.

  7777

  I fell to the floor.

  "Doctor!! It's her! She's back!" I heard Yaz called out to the Doctor.

  I groaned as I clutched my bleeding nose.

  The Doctor bend her knees and sat beside me, clutching my chin in her hand. "It's nice to see you again, (name)." She said with a small smile. "What happened to you?" She is checking me for injuries.

  "The Master." I replied weakly. "I was in...Valiant?"

  The Doctor frowned. "The year that never was... So, you are still crossing all over the alternate universe then?"

  I gave her an annoyed look.

  "Right, silly question." The Doctor said. "The Master forced his way inside your mind then? Do you mind if I go inside your mind too? I need to fix the damage inside you."

  I groaned. "Will it be painful?"

  "I promise you won't feel a thing." She said with a small smile.

  I nodded my consent.

  The Doctor gently caress my messy hair before putting her forehead over mine. And I fell into a bliss full darkness.

  7777

  I woke up in the Tardis med-bay. I remembered meeting the Doctor and Yaz but I knew they weren't my Doctor and my Yaz. I could feel the loneliness come back with vengeance. I wanted to cry.

  "You are awake."

  I snapped out of my trance and glanced up as I saw the Doctor. My heart yearned for her. I bit my lips as I tried not to cry in front of this Doctor. After all, this Doctor never know me. She is not my friend. She is just a stranger who happened to share the same face as the one that I love. 

  I tried to smile but failed. I shook my head to try to get myself to focus. But the tears keep falling on my cheeks against my wish. 

  The Doctor glanced at me with pity. She tried to comfort me but she is being very awkward about it which make me laugh.

  After I get my bearing, she asked me to tell her what happened to me since last we met.

  "Have you get a warning about the cyberman from Jack?" I asked suddenly.

  The Doctor frowned but nodded. "What do you know about the cyberman?"

  "Nothing. But I need to warn you about the fam. Be careful. When the time come for you to meet the cyberman, do take care to make sure nothing bad happened to them."

  "Of course." The Doctor nodded. "I wouldn't want to put them in danger."

  I sighed. "You don't get it, Doctor, of course, they will put themselves in danger, for you. All I asked is for you to watch each other back."

  "You know something?"

  I was silent, debating whether to tell her and I decided to tell her about the future I saw of my Doctor. About my dying in her arms and her losing the fam to her being somewhat insane.

  The Doctor look troubled. She glanced at me. "I'm so sorry."

  "Not your fault." I said.

  We descended into uncomfortable silence before the Doctor finally revealed that she had gotten her hands on the prototype weapon from her version of the scientist. She has been studying it and found a disturbing information. In order for the weapon to work as it is, it need a target DNA. The fact that I got shot instead of the Doctor and ended up splintering all over the alternate universe with the Doctor as my anchor meant the weapon works but not quite as intended and also the weapon must have been infused with the Doctor DNA in the first place which is way the Doctor ended up as my anchor. The target must be my Doctor all along.

  I was worried for my Doctor now. What if she is still in danger? How am I meant to warn her? And I have to also warn her about the danger to my version of the fam. I do not want my Doctor to change into a darker version of the Doctor I saw before. Maybe If I could warn her and save the fam, then the Doctor will be fine even if she loses me in the end. I'm not trying to be a martyr. I just want the Doctor to be safe and sane.

  "Did you...find a cure?" I asked the Doctor.

  She shook her head sadly. "I'm still working on it."

 "Thank you." I said numbly.

  "Hey." She shook me out of my trance. "Get a grip. You will be okay." She said as she put her hands over my cheeks.

  I smiled weakly at her but nodded. "See you around, Doctor..." I said softly.

  The Doctor, realizing I was about to disappear again, smiled encouragingly. "Hang in there, (name) (last name)."

  7777

  I landed inside the Tardis but there is no one inside. Then I heard a very loud electric guitar sound from the outside. Curiously, I walked out of the Tardis and regretted it as my eardrum is hurting. 

  I looked around, found myself in some posh office. Then I saw him. The Twelfth Doctor. I recognized him despite the change in appearance.

  He turned and almost drop his guitar when he saw me. "Well it's about time. I thought you already keel over in one of the alternate universe since you never show your face again."

  I sighed in relief. "I guess you know me then." I said as I stepped toward him. "Where are we?"

  I was surprised to learn that he is teaching in some university now. 

  A young woman and a bald man came into the room and the Doctor introduced them as Bill and Nardole. 

  I wonder what happened to Clara but I know better than to ask about it. She must have left or he lost her. Seemed like a theme for the Doctor from what I've seen so far.

  The Doctor told me to follow her into the Tardis and he started rummaging on his stuff in one of the room. He pulled a vial containing many red pill. He gave it to me.

  "Is this...?"

  "It's just temporary cure...for your internal bleeding."

  "My what?"

  "You have been couching blood, have you not?"

  I nodded. "How did you...?"

  "I did tell you that you are dying, right?"

  "Right, something about splintering tearing my atoms..." I said before I realized it wasn't him who said that. It was my Doctor, the somewhat insane one.

  The Doctor glanced at me.

  "Sorry, I'm trying to keep up with which version said what." I pulled a note from my bag. "I have been writing every encounters. There is no pattern. I just keep randomly jumping all over the alternate timeline."

  He grabbed the book from me. I glared at him in annoyance.

  "What? You are dying?" Bill asked.

  Ah, I forgot his companion are here too. We talked for a bit.

  The Doctor snapped his fingers to gain my attention. "Drink your medicine."

  I obeyed and pulled a pill from the vial and swallowed it. Nardole, helpfully, giving me a bottle of water. The medicine did do wonder, I felt a bit refreshed.

  I smiled at the Doctor. Out of all the Doctors I met so far, he is the one that has been make himself useful to me. I was very grateful and I told him that.

  "It was nothing. Like I said, it was just temporary cure. It will not stop you from splintering but it will delay it for a few hours, enough for you to get some rest and get some answers. Just be sure not to take it if you find yourself stranded in a dangerous place with one of the alternate doctors." He replied. "You are still dying, unfortunately, so you need to take a better care of yourself."

  I sighed in resignation and asked if I could borrow a room to rest.

  The Doctor nodded as he glanced at me with a bit of fondness. I think I grew on him and I must say I feel the same. He asked Bill to show me a room.

  Bill and I started to get to know each other on the way of the room.  She left me so I could get some rest.

  I laid on the bed tiredly. I didn't discard my bag for fear of splintering while I sleep. The notebook is still with the Doctor, though. Oh, well. I closed my eyes and feel into a blissful sleep immediately.

  7777

  I woke up after enough sleeping, feeling refreshed. I realized with delight that I'm still in the same place as before I went to sleep. I got out of the room to seek the Doctor. I walked out of the Tardis and saw the same office from earlier.

  The Doctor sat behind his desk, writing something on my notebook?

  "What are you doing?" I asked.

  "Ah, you're still here. It worked then." He said without looking at me. "I'm writing the formula of the medicine I gave you. In case you won't find your way back to me again, you can ask the other Doctors for when your medicine run out."

  I hummed in pleasant. "That's very thoughtful of you."

  "Just doing my part." He said as he finished writing and gave the notebook to me.

  I opened the page on his writing. I didn't understand a thing of what he wrote though. "What language is this?"

  "The other Doctors will know it, don't worry your pudding brain about it."

  I glared at him, annoyed. "You're still rude." I said as I put the notebook back on my back.

  "Really? I didn't notice."

  I stick out my tongue at him petulantly.

  "Anyway, I would like to ask about your assumption that the future Doctor you met is your Doctor."

  "How do you mean?"

  "What makes you think that version is directly your future instead of alternate one?"

  I hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose because she recognized me. The other version of...Thirteenth, was it? The other one didn't know me. I guess I jump into conclusion? It's just that I didn't meet any other version of my Doctor. Just those two."

  He started ranting about alternate universe being vast and so the alternate timeline with it. He also talk about alternate version of the Doctor and myself.

  I admitted I couldn't follow on his explanation which he noticed and being rude about it. It did give me a slight hope that it means my Doctor will be fine and won't lose her marble. I smiled in relief at the thought. My smile dropped immediately when I felt the tingling again. 

  I glanced up at the Doctor and quickly give him a hug much to his dismay. "Thank you and see you around."

  He look worried for me. "Good luck, (name)."

  7777

  I dropped unceremoniously on the floor. I was annoyed to keep finding myself on the floor every time.

  I glanced up at my surrounding and my jaw dropped when I saw the sight before me.

  The Doctors and companion from 9th-12th are there. They were trapped inside glass prisons, each doctor and their companion respectively had their own personal prison it seemed. And I was outside the glass prisons staring at them all.

  "About time." One of the Doctors said suddenly. "What do you want?"

  "W-what? Hold on, did you think I did this to you? I just arrived." I said, feeling a bit insulted.

  "So, you are not the one who imprison us?" One of the companion, I recognized as Rose asked.

  "I have no part in what happening to you guys. Where are we anyway?" I asked as I look around. "Where is your jailer?"

  "No idea. We just woke up a while ago." That was Jack.

  "Right, okay, how do I get you out then?" I asked them.

  "Who are you?" One of the Doctors asked again.

  "Not the bad guy, that's for sure." I replied. "Don't you think to save the question until after you got out of there?" I asked. "Don't know about you, but the prison is giving me a bad vibe." I said. "Oh shit is there a camera here watching us?"

  "Yeah, there is." One of the companion, Rory, pointed the camera on the wall behind me. 

  "Whoever watching know you're here. If you are not one the bad guys, you should really should do something soon." Jack said.

  "Oh hell, we have no time for interrogation then." I said sarcastically. "Now, which one of you boys gonna help me figure out the way out here?" I asked all the Doctors.

  All the Doctor spoke at the same time which giving me headache which reminded me I have to take my med. But I was hesitating remembering the Twelfth Doctor telling me not to take it if I ever find myself stuck in dangerous place with the alternate Doctors. I glanced at the Doctors, all alternate version of the Doctors, but no alternate Thirteenth Doctor in sight. I sighed. I know I can't just abandon them, can I? I pulled the vial and pop one pill. I guess I resigned myself to get stuck here for a few hours. Let's hope I didn't get killed or get them killed.

  I followed the Doctors' instruction to check the box on the wall and cut some wire. I pulled my hair pin and tried to use it as the Doctors instructed. One of the prison cracked open. Eleventh Doctor, Amy and Rory got out. Rory and Amy helped me with the other boxes while 11th Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver and point it at the door to stop the jailers from coming in just as the alarm sounded very loudly.

  After all the Doctors got out, they introduced themselves to me. I already knew some of them technically from my meeting with their alternate version before but I didn't tell them that. Rose, Jack, Donna, Martha, Amy, Rory and Clara. The only one I haven't met is Donna. She is very interesting loud person. It was funny seeing her treating the 10th Doctor like she is the boss.

  "Are you ill?" Rory asked suddenly. "You look a bit pale."

  Martha also come to check on me. I remembered that she is a doctor or learning to be a doctor.

  "I'm fine." I said as I wiped the cold sweat that covered my forehead. What's happening to me now? Shouldn't the med make me feel better? Why now I felt like I'm about to keel over?

  I heard the sound of sonic screwdriver. "You're dying." Eleventh Doctor said as he read the result of his scan. 

  The companion showed some concern for me while the Doctors are wary of me but they also staring at me with pity now that they knew I am dying.

  "Don't worry I will get out of your hairs soon enough maybe in a few hours." I said. "Rather than focusing on me, we should deal with whoever took you lot here in the first place."

  I followed them, more like the Doctors allowed me to tag along but I could feel their distrusts toward me, feel like they are chocking me...or maybe that was the effect of illness.

  When they finally confronted their jailers, I fainted. I tried to stay awake but I lost the fight.

  7777

  I woke up in the Tardis med-bay. I sighed. I jumped when I saw the shadow across the room. The room lightened up and I saw it was Twelfth Doctor. He has my notebook in his hand. "Hello, (name)."

  I stared at him. "You have read it then. So you know I'm not a threat."

  "It seemed so." He said. "It has my handwriting inside."

  I nodded. "You, I mean, alternate version of you just wrote it actually...just before I landed here." I said.

  He nodded.

  "Where are the other Doctors?" I asked.

  "Gone back to their rightful timeline."

  "I guess you won the lottery to deal with me then?" I joked.

  The Doctor glanced at me with a look I can't decipher. "More like because i'm the oldest incarnation so you become my responsibility especially after I saw my handwriting." he said. "But according to this book, you are travelling with the one after me."

  I nodded. "Thirteenth Doctor." At his look, I shrugged. "Your alternate-self told me of the numbers."

  He didn't say anything.

  "So, what now?"

  "There is a coordinate written here." He said.

  I nodded. "Right, that's probably coordinate of the planet where we stumble upon the scientists and the weapon."

  He hummed. "I suppose I will have to help you to find some answer for your predicament then."

  "That would be great." I said.

  "The other me seemed to be fond of you. He wrote here to trust you and help you."

  "He did?" I asked, surprised. I smiled fondly. "I knew I grew on him." I said. Suddenly I wish to come back and see him again and give him more hugs. I blinked suddenly when I felt the tingling. "Oh no... has it been a few hours since we met?" I asked.

  He frowned at me. "What's...?" he trailed and glanced at me. "You have to go, don't you?" He quickly throw me the notebook. "I will get you answers or the cure when next you returned." he said.

 I barely able to catch the notebook and grabbed my bag before I vanished. I didn't even get to say thanks.

  7777

  "ow." I landed on my butt on the ground. I took a glance around my surrounding. I was inside the Tardis but the Tardis is poorly lit. And then I saw her. The Doctor.

  "Doctor? Doctor!!" I called out as I scrambled on my feet to get to her.

  It was her. Thirteenth Doctor. But something is wrong. She looked weak and dare I say, dying.

  "Doctor!! Doctor, are you okay? What happened to you?" I tried to shook her awake.

  She weakly opened her eyes and she smiled upon seeing me. "(name)...Am I dead already? How are you here...?" she asked as her hand weakly reaches out to me.

  I grabbed her hands. "Doctor, what's wrong with you?"

  "Dying...got shot..."

  "No. But you can't be..."

  She smiled at me. "...is good to see you again, (name)...been so long..."

  "Doctor, what do I do? What can I do?"

  She shook her head weakly and coughed blood. "Nothing you can do. Weapon disable regeneration. They got me...finally."

  Tears started falling on my cheeks. "Who? Who did this to you? Doctor!"

  She smiled weakly at me. "I'm sorry, (name)..." she said as she caresses my cheek, wiping my tears.

  "Doctor...please...don't leave me..." I begged her. "Please just tell me, who did this? I can change it! I will change it!"

   "My (name)...always so..." She closed her eyes and never open them again.

  "Doctor?" I called out. "Doctor, no, please, open your eyes. Don't do this to me." I begged her. "Doctor!!" I screamed as I tried to shake her awake but it was futile. I cried as I hugged her body close. I started coughing blood too. I wonder if I'm going to die here. It wouldn't be so bad, would it? I hold her hand and cried again. I laid beside her body, still holding her hand, wishing I could just die already.

  I don't know how long it has been before I finally feel the tingling. It was then I wonder if this Doctor is my future or some alternate one. I selfishly prayed it was an alternate one because I don't think I could accept the universe without my Doctor. I let myself being ripped away once more and hope to God the next destination won't tear my heart like this.

  "Please let me see her again..." I pleaded as I closed my eyes.

  7777

  I found myself on the ground, curled on myself like a wounded animal. I didn't bother to look where I ended up this time. My heart still in so much pain from witnessing the Doctor's death. 

  "(name)? (name)!! Are you alright?" That was Rory.

  "Doctor! River! It's (name)!! She has returned!!" Amy yelled.

  I could hear the Doctor and River moved toward me in concern.

  Someone pulled me from the floor. But I have no energy to stand up on my own. They let me sat on the floor then.

  "(name), what's wrong, dear? Are you injured anywhere?" That was River.

  I turned to look at her. "The Doctor is dead." I said as burst into tears again.

  River looked like she was being slapped. I remembered she is the Doctor's wife, of course, that news would trouble her. She exchanged a look with Eleventh Doctor.

  I started coughing blood much to their horror. I fainted.

  7777

  I woke up from a nightmare of the memory when she died. I cried again. Rory and River rushed toward the bed where I am laid when I nearly fell from the bed in my rush to reach out to nothing.

  "Hey, easy there." Rory said.

  River stroke my hair almost lovingly. "Take it easy, my dear."

  I grabbed her and I started rambling. "It was the weapon! It disable regeneration!" I yelled. I didn't even know if the Doctor spoke of the same weapon that shot me. I didn't get to ask. But I have a feeling it might be. I don't remember what I said next but River is hushing me, trying to calm me down. But there is no consoling me. I kept telling her over and over that the Doctor is in danger.

  From the corner of my eyes, I saw Eleventh Doctor and Amy standing on the doorway. He looked like someone shot his puppy. He seemed almost afraid to approach me. 

  "Promise me you will find it." I pleaded.

  "I promise." River said.

  But that won't solve anything, will it? The one I wanted to warn and save is my Doctor. But I never get to see her. I know I still have to warn the other Doctors of a potential dangerous weapon a threat to their well-being. But what I wanted is my Doctor and my friends. I want them to be safe. 

  I could feel the sign I was about to splinter again. I screamed in frustration.

  7777

  "(name)? (name)!!"

  I was still screaming.

  Someone is holding on my faces as they tried to snap me out of my hysterical. "Look at me, (name) (last name)." Those words suddenly sounded loudly inside my mind.

  I opened my eyes and I saw the Doctor. Thirteenth Doctor.

  Without thinking, I hugged her tight. She loses her balance and we both fell on the floor. I cried in her arms. I called her name over and over again. She was surprised but she stroke my back, trying to comfort me and pulled me to a seating position.

  "It's okay, (name). It's okay." She whispered. "I'm here."

  That made me cry more. I hugged her more, not willing to let go.

  I could hear the fam approaching us in confusion.

  "Doctor? (name)? What's wrong?" Yaz asked as she sat beside us.

  I turned toward Yaz before whispering, "Am I home? Do you...know me?"

  "Not this again." She replied. "Of course we all know you, (name)." She turned toward the Doctor. "Doctor, what happened?"

  The Doctor hummed as she continue to stroke my back. "We were talking and then she just suddenly scream."

  I am home! They know me! I was too busy feeling relieved of being back at home with my Doctor and my friends. And then I realized what she said. I released her. "We were talking...?"

  She nodded. "And then you just suddenly scream..."

  "But I wasn't here, was I?" I asked.

  "What do you mean?" She asked.

  "I was back in the other alternate universes. I met alternate version of your past incarnations, you know, bow tie, sandshoes, big ear and sandshoes."

  She looked alarmed at that. "I don't understand what you are talking about, you have been here with me all this time. But...how do you know about my past regeneration?"

  "I told you!" I was frustrated. I grabbed around for my bag only to realize I didn't have them. "W-what? Where is my bag?"

  "(name), calm down." Yaz pleaded.

  "NO!" I shouted as I pushes her away. I stood up and nearly fell but the Doctor caught me. I pushes her away too.

  Ryan and Graham stared at me with concern.

  "What's happening to me? I want it to stop!!" I shouted as I burst into tears.

  "(name), tell me what you think happened." The Doctor requested. She tried to placate me, approaching me like I was some sort of wounded animal, which in a way, I guess I am.

  "You think I'm going insane." I said accusingly.

  She shook her head. "I think you are confused."

  "Confused enough to suddenly have information on your past regeneration?!!" I shouted angrily.

  The fam exchanged a look with each other.

  "Let me help you, (name)." The Doctor said. "Please. Trust me."

  "Just trust the Doctor?" I asked. "That's what you said before."

  "I did say that." She said. She raised her hand toward me. "Trust me, (name)."

  "Then tell me what do you think is happening to me? I know you know something. You said not to worry. But I'm so tired, Doctor. I just watched you die. Are you telling me I've been dreaming all of that?"

  "(name)...."

  "Tell me! Was it the weapon? It did something to me, right? What? It drive me insane? Making me conjuring some form of nightmare and of my fear? Tell me!!"

  7777

  I blinked and I realized the Doctor and the fam is gone. "Nooo..." I broke down in tears. "What is happening to me?" I fell on my knees and that's when I noticed my bag is back strapped on my body again. I pulled out my notebook and opened to the last page of my writing. "No. No. No." I screamed and I tore the pages off the book in my rage. And then I cried.

  I finally glanced around my surrounding. I was in the Tardis but no one seemed to be around. I went to the kitchen and pulled a knife from the drawer and a wine from the Doctor's stash. I drank the wine, regardless of the taste, working up on the courage to do what I have to do. 

  "I have to wake up." I whispered. Then I slit my wrist, putting a cut so deep. I hissed in pain as more tears falling from my cheeks. I watched numbly at the blood flowing from the cut. I felt weak and passed out.

  7777

  I woke up in a med-bay. Someone has bandaged my wrist. I sighed in disappointment. "Why can't I wake up?" I whispered in desperation.

  "I must admit this is not the first time we have a stowaway but you are actually the first that tried to kill yourself on my Tardis." Someone said, jolting you out of your trance.

  I glanced up to see...Ruth clayton? My jaw dropped in shock. I remembered my Doctor telling me and the fam that Ruth actually is the Doctor but that she didn't remember being her.

  She raised my torn notebook at me. "Just read it all. Quite the days you've had it seemed."

   "You read it...? You believe it...?" I asked. I discreetly take a look at my bandaged wrist. She must have been the one who did it.  She saved my life. Don't know exactly what she did but I felt fine for someone who just survive attempted suicide. I wonder what she thought of me when she found me before. She looked so chill for someone who just find some random stranger. I guess the notebook did help. Can't believe she actually fix the notebook. But then again I should not be surprised that the Doctor did that. And as I look at her, I can almost believe that she is the Doctor but a slightly more mature one?

  She hummed. "I scanned you. The result is that you did indeed come from alternate universe."

   I snorted at that. "Well, we are all got it wrong it seemed. I am dreaming this. I am dreaming of you! Nothing here is real! I'm just having some elaborate hallucination!" Even as I said that, I knew I was wrong because I only knew Ruth Clayton, I never saw the appearance of Ruth!Doctor before. My mind should not be able to conjure any version of the Doctors but the one that I knew. But when I remembered what happened last, I just don't know anymore. I admitted it was stupid of me to try and off myself. But well, i guess I’m well on my way of being insane. Can you blame me?

"Dreaming of me? My, have we met before for you to dream of me like this?  Also I have been hallucination before, wasn't fun. I can tell you I am not a hallucination, dear."

"Of course you are! We've met! You told my Doctor that you are the Doctor but she said she didn't remember being you!" I said.

"A-ah, I know I have met you before, you are with that other Doctor then? Her companion, is it?"

 "You don't understand." I said petulantly.

  "You are right, I don't."

  I was annoyed with this Ruth!Doctor. She is being dismissive of me, like i'm some child throwing tantrum, which in a way I suppose I do. I coughed harsh and I covered my mouth, knowing full well I'm coughing up blood again.

  "Would you like your medicine?" She asked, showing me the vial the alternate Twelfth Doctor gave me.

  I shook my head. "No thanks. I don't want to intrude you any longer."

  She sighed. "You seemed to have give up on staying alive..."

  I snorted. "I'm not dying. I'm just going insane, it seemed." I said sarcastically. 

  Suddenly I heard the wheezing sound of a Tardis. I glanced up at her in confusion.

  "I called the other Doctor here." She said.

  I frowned. "You...you called her here?" I asked.

  "Well, you are an alternate version of her companion." She said.

  I stared at her blankly before I registered what she said. "There is another me here? With...the other Doctor?"

  "Would you like to see her?" She asked.

  I nodded. I was a bit curious of the other me.

  7777

  It was really weird seeing an alternate version of yourself, I have got to say. The Doctor and the other me stared at me in shock. I felt suddenly self-conscious. I did just tried to off myself. I tried to hide my bandaged wrist behind me.

  They invited me to their Tardis. Ruth!Doctor clearly wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible. I can't blame her. Who would want a damage good like me anyway? And I did dirtying her Tardis by trying to kill myself over there. She gave my torn notebook and medicine to the other Doctor. They talked for a bit.

  The other me is staring at me curiously. I was at first curious but now I just want the other me to go away. She made me felt like a strange alien.

  The Doctor smiled at me. "Hello, (name), it's good to meet you."

  I didn't smile back. 

  Her smile faltered. "I'm so sorry to hear what has been happening to you. I promise I will help you get home." She said as she grabbed one of my hands and it happened to be the bandaged one. She looked like someone kicked her puppy as she noticed the bandaged wrist. "Please don't give up, (name), your Doctor wouldn't want you to."

  I pulled my hand off her. I wanted to hurt her with words but I can't think of anything despite my sudden anger at her. "You don't know me." I finally lashes out. "I'm not her. And you are not the Doctor." 

  She looked hurt. I saw the other me bristled and about to shout at me but her Doctor stopped her. She whispered something to her and the other me left us behind.

  I scoffed. "Don't worry, I won't be here for long anyway."

  "Let me help you, (name)."

  I could felt myself about to cry again and I hated myself. "No one can help me. Not anymore. I just want to wake up from this nightmare." I whispered to myself.

  The Doctor looked so sad, I almost wanted to comfort her, but I didn't. She wasn't mine. 

  I was surprised when she suddenly hugged me close. "I know it's hard, (name), but you have to have some faith. Just trust the Doctor."

  I cried when she said that. I hugged her back. And then I could feel myself being ripped away again. But I already resigned to my fate so I let her go.

   tags : @thatsonezesty13 , @0castergirl0

(ok, first time someone ask to be tagged but i’m kinda worried that you will be disappointed with how this turn out.)

  A/N: Alright, so this is the end of part two. I still have no idea how to end this story. As you can probably tell, the plotline is messy and probably ended up repetitive. At the rate this is going, this story might not get a part three at all. Maybe the Reader truly lost in time after all. I tried to write a dark!doctor but I think I failed. I really wanted to write for dark!doctor. Maybe I would have better luck next time, whenever next time is and if there ever be another next time.

I would like to take this chance to say thank you for those who follow my blog and leaving likes/comment/reblog on my past stories. Thank you all and I hope you didn't finally come to your sense and realize how bad I truly am at writing. Stay cool, everyone!

[viinylspins]

◊ ♫ ◊— look what the cat dragged in! that’s ROONEY RUIZ and SHE is an around 25-year-old NEWCOMER to the store, but she’s been in the neighborhood for 6 YEARS. I think they are a LAW STUDENT and I overheard her listening to WIN by NASTY CHERRY, and, I dunno man, it seemed pretty fitting. Like, call me shallow but I look at them and think of CAMILA QUEIROZ and CLICKS OF RED-BOTTOM HEELS, DEBATING FOR SPORT, and GLOWING WITH SELF-SATISFACTION. (ooc info: garnet, she/her, est, 22)

hello, hello, garnet is BACK! with one intro post to go now. believe it or not, this is longer than Zoe’s. I really couldn’t stop writing, so if you just skim and go to the misc and wanted connections sections...I’ll understand. name: rooney constaça ruiz birthday: april 20th (aries-taurus cusp) distinguishing features: beauty mark on her cheek, highlighted hair sexuality: pansexual positive traits: decisive, loyal, straightforward negative traits: intolerant, critical, materialistic jung type: INTJ enneagram: 8w9 temperament: choleric

trigger warning(s): deportation

Rooney was born shouldering high expectations, placed both by her parents and by herself. This can only partially be blamed on her accomplished Manhattan family. Herman and Pippa Ruiz exemplified achieving the “American Dream.” After a childhood of growing up in the Spanish Harlem a few houses down from each other, they officially started dating after finding each other at Columbia University. Pippa dreamed of becoming a doctor, while Herman majored in business to prepare for a career on Wall Street. Fast forward ten years after the conferral of their Ivy League degrees, and the two were happily married and thriving in their respective chosen career fields.

If her parents could make something of themselves, their children could, too. So, Rooney, along with her sister Reed and brother Rory, were instilled with the need to become something groundbreaking in life. Unlike her siblings, though, Rooney knew exactly what she wanted to do from a young age: make a lot of money so that she wouldn’t have to compromise on the lifestyle that she had growing up. By age eleven, her career goals solidified and had taken shape. She knew that she was going to become a lawyer.

Nothing if not ambitious and dedicated, Rooney began reading about prominent court cases and state laws for fun. 

When she told her parents about this, they were thrilled. Reed more or less followed the path paved for her, but Rory was a wayward child. As a result, the parents worried about not only how Rooney would end up, but if they were as good parents as they thought they were ( which slight electric chair ). If you asked Rooney, she would have asked that they spent more time with her instead of having so many nannies in rotation, but otherwise, objectively, they were perfectly adequate at this and only slightly out of their depth.

Her opinion of her parents changed drastically when she was about fifteen. Learning about genetics in biology class piqued her curiosity about why she appeared physically different from her parents and her siblings. She first suspected that she just received all of the recessive genes, but once she presented this to her parents, they told her the truth: Rooney was adopted when she was just an infant. She was the only one adopted out of the three Ruiz children.

The news hit Rooney hard. She was furious and from that day forward, Rooney vowed that she would never forgive them. Although she does remain in contact with her family since moving out, she has firm boundaries with her parents. They don’t push it, for the most part, but I digress.

In the years leading up to her graduation from high school, Rooney became obsessed with finding her birth parents. Her father supposedly disappeared, but public records of her mother were last updated in 2000. This kept Rooney filled with hopeful butterflies, which she was very unlike her. The girl was filled with questions: who was she, exactly? Was she like the mothers she saw on TV? Did she have another family? How many siblings did she have, that she never knew about? Her parents helped out in her search to the best of their ability, but it seemed that they were searching for a woman who didn’t want to be found.

If this were a movie, Rooney would have met her birth mother at her high school graduation. But this isn’t a movie, so Rooney did not.

However, a little before she graduated Magna Cum Laude from Columbia University, on track to enter Columbia Law for Corporate Law immediately after, Rooney received a Facebook message from a Brazilian woman living in New Jersey. Despite the impulse to block and report the profile for spam, Rooney couldn’t resist opening the notification. Good thing she did; the woman claimed to be the birth mother.

Over the next year, Rooney sporadically messaged the woman over Facebook. The more they spoke, the more Rooney searched for cracks, but everything matched the information she’d collected prior. Slowly, brick by brick, her walls diminished and she accepted that, maybe, this was the person she was so desperate to find.

Eventually, the woman asked Rooney to meet her for coffee, and Rooney accepted the invitation, albeit with strict guidelines on how this was going to go. They’d meet in public, during the day time, and Rooney had no qualms walking out at any time if she felt that the woman had any sort of malicious intent.

Her “birth mother” was smaller than Rooney expected, and in person, she could see their physical resemblance. Rooney wanted to believe that this woman was her mother, more than she wanted to believe anything in her life.

[TW: Deportation] That is, until the woman needed her help. She tearfully explained that she needed an immigration lawyer, because, without one, she might be deported back to Brazil by the end of the week. Any hope that this woman would be her birth mother, Rooney very deliberately crushed. She didn’t want to potentially meet her birth child, no, she only wanted someone who would be willing to help her.

Once the older woman finished, looking at Rooney hopefully, Rooney had taken out a business card, scribbled the contact information to one immigration lawyer she networked with, and got out of her seat after handing it to her. The woman called out after her, but Rooney didn’t look back. [/END TW]

As someone not only adopted, but who studied law as long as she has, Rooney knew that the system wasn’t going to change. The best thing that she could do was make the best out of her present circumstances, even if the best thing was never reaching out to that woman again.

tl;dr: she’s a hard-ass law student who is very decisive and knows what she wants, and who also learned she was adopted when she was fifteen. and met her birth mom when she was 21, but walked away and she’s definitely not coping with that!

MISCELLANEOUS:

Rooney and her siblings were purposely given gender neutral names in order to increase their job prospects in the future. Constaça is her birth name, which her parents kept as her middle name.

She’s 5′10″ without heels. She loves being so tall.

Her favorite fragrance is Mon Paris Eau de Parfum by Yves Saint Laurent. Of natural fragrances, her favorite scent is vanilla.

Her confidence in herself is unshakeable to its core, so she is able to adapt to her current company without doubting or losing herself. She is sociable to acquaintances, but she only has a few friends who she considers being on par with her standards.

She is VERY competitive. One of the reasons that she wanted to be a corporate lawyer is because she wanted to be more successful than her siblings. Now she has to be even more successful than her parents. We love being motivated by spite.

I didn’t mention it here, but Rooney did a lot of equestrian sports (rich people am I right?) when she was younger. It dwindled around the time she entered high school but she stayed active through being on the swim team at her high school and playing water polo for fun at Columbia. 

Rooney is a family person, and one of her strengths is her loyalty. She knows this about herself but thinks she’s been dealt a very shitty hand. If you can’t tell, growing up as privileged as she has feeds into her high expectations of herself and others.

She isn’t very romantic, never has been, and as of right now, she’s not really looking for a romantic relationship.

WANTED CONNECTIONS!

OTHER LAW STUDENTS! She hasn’t graduated from law school just yet – she’s in her final year. As aforementioned she is very sociable and she’d appreciate having people who understand what it’s like to be under the demands of going to an Ivy League law school.

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS! Rooney hasn’t left New York state, so there’s a lot of potential for her to have long-term connections with people.

COLLEAGUES HER INTERNSHIP! Currently, Rooney is being mentored by Maddie Breckenridge, so she’d know a few people connected to Maddie! She’s also all about networking and, if she does say so herself, she’s a good person to know if you need to be bailed out of something. She can argue herself, and other people, out of any situation.

COLLEAGUES THROUGH SPORTS! Can’t believe I’m writing someone more or less jock adjacent, but Rooney is very active. And she knows herself well enough to know she performs better when she’s trying to outdo someone, so she’d definitely be on the lookout for a workout buddy or two.

BRUNCH SQUAD! This one sees the more light-hearted Rooney. Is it because of the mimosas? Maybe so!

AN EX! Rooney is pansexual, so gender is irrelevant. I imagine that Rooney has had only a few relationships because she’s very committed in both her relationships and she’s kind of married to her schooling. She has one ex position filled by Alexa Cox, but she can have one more. As a treat.

ANYTHING! Like this and I’ll hit you up! Or feel free to come at me with anything and we can make it work!

[floatingpetals]

What Have I Done? || Ch. 11

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: angst, super possessive Bucky, gets pretty dark

Word Count: 1800+

Summary: A bad break up between Bucky and his ex leads to a new friendship with the quiet tech he never had the chance to get to know. Relationships grow, feelings are caught, and boundaries are explored. Bucky thought he found his happy ending, but old memories haunt his future. He knows what he’s doing wrong, dangerous even, but he can’t help it. Can he fix the wrongs he’s done? -a requested story for @iheartsebastianstan

A/N: Aight, so this was actually going to be one long chapter to finish, however as I was writing it, I realized too much is happening and I didn’t want to overwhelm anyone. So I cut it and there’s going to be one last chapter after this before the epilogue. Another note, this could have some sensitive topics that some people might not like, but it’s nothing too awful? I don’t know, just read with a little caution cause it does get heavy in some part and probably a little ooc(?). Beyond that, I hope you all enjoy! Hopefully 😆

Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Series Masterlist

“Steve?” Y/N croaked, hesitantly knocking on Steve’s bedroom door. Her throat burned and the tears flowed hotly down her cheeks as she frantically looked over her shoulder. She didn’t know who else to go to, who would know what to do. The sound of her heart pounding in her head drowned out the panic that gripped her heart, but only for so long. She was brought back to the sound of him moving around the room, Steve’s footsteps were heavy and swift before the door swung open.

Concern clouded Steve’s face at the sight of Y/N standing in front of him, with her arms wrapped around her waist and tears staining her cheeks. With a quick look down both sides of the hall, Steve dragged her inside the room and locked the door behind them. He ushered her to the edge of his bed and went to grab a box of tissues. Y/N sniffled a soft thanks and dabbed her cheeks.

“What happened?” Steve asked warily, grabbing his chair desk to sit in front of her. Y/N struggled to answer, the whole reason for her being here was still fresh and raw. It was still jarring how much he changed, how dangerous he had become. He wasn’t the same Bucky she first fell in love with.

“I- I don’t know.” Y/N held in a sob, her chin quivering as the emotions came rushing back to the surface. “Somethings wrong with Bucky. I- I don’t know what happened.”

Steve’s back straightened at the mention of his friend. He had noticed the change in Bucky when it came to Y/N, both the good but sadly the bad. Recently, he was akin to a wild animal that was incredibly possessive of its territory. It had only been about two weeks since the incident in the gym and Bucky seemed to have progressively grown worse.

“What happened Y/N?” Steve pressed, needed to understand what caused her tears. She clenched her eyes shut and took in a shuddering breath.

“It was in the lab. I went to go talk with Tony and one of the lab assistants needed help with something. I didn’t think anything of it and went to help. I-Nothing happened.” Y/N whispered, trembling when the sound of Bucky snarl repeated in her mind. “He was so angry. He just started threatening Rob, told him to that I was his a-and that he’d snap his neck if he-.”

A sob tore from her lips and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Steve inhaled sharply and pushed off the chair to sit beside Y/N and wrap his arms around her shoulder. He leaned her against his chest, tightening his hold while she sobbed into his chest. He murmured soft words of reassurance to Y/N while he was trying to imagine what could have possibly pushed Bucky over the edge like this. It was so unlike him to act this remarkably out of character.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to say anything else. I’m so sorry,” He whispered, hopelessly watching as Y/N broke down in his arms.

He had no idea where this was coming from, what could have possibly set his best friend off like this. This wasn’t a one-time occurrence; he had seen his fair share of Bucky practically baring his teeth at anyone who dared to get too close. A dangerous look would pass over his face if they ignored his warnings, his steely eyes watching the person leave as he if was considering ways to tear them to pieces for defying him. It had even gotten to the point where the rest of the team was walking on eggshells around Bucky and Y/N, wary about setting him off. Steve had kept a close eye on him, hoping it was just a momentary lapse in behavior and it would straighten out eventually once he realized Y/N was there to stay. Clearly, this was much bigger than Steve could ever imagine, and it wouldn’t simply change overnight.

Y/N tried to calm her sobs and trembling but now that she was able to let everything the past few weeks out. She kept it all bottled up inside, worried that maybe she was doing something wrong to cause him to act like this. Today was the breaking point. Seeing his lips twist into a savage snarl as he stood over Rob as he cowered made her blood run cold. The sight of the ferocity and murder hardening his eyes made all the hairs on her arms and back of her neck stand on end. Combined with his feral hiss as he jammed his metal finger against Rob’s chest and threatened him harm if he came near Y/N again, it was too upsetting. She had to run and find someplace to hide from his threatening form. 

“Breath,” Steve urged gently. He passed another tissue and helped her sit back. Y/N nodded sharply, blowing her nose in the tissue and grabbed another to wipe up the tears. She hated how weak she felt, how this had brought out the scared little girl inside her.

She still couldn’t believe it. This was Bucky, her Bucky. The same man she cradled when his heart was shattered and stomped on. The same man who would hold her so tenderly and whisper soft sweet nothings in her ears in the early morning before the busy day. He was so sweet and caring, even with all the pain he had endured he still managed to be incredibly gentle with her. She had his heart and he had hers. Or so she believed. How did things become so twisted and backward?

“What do I do, Steve?” Y/N croaked, her sobs dwindling down to broken whimpers. Steve frowned and looked at his hands. He honestly had no idea. How did one go about bringing volatile behavior to an already unpredictable person? When he or Y/N tried to explain in the past, Bucky didn’t want to hear it in the slightest. He was ready to fight and keep her all to himself. It didn’t matter who stood in his way, he would tear them apart without a moment hesitation.

“I don’t know,” He sighed sadly. “I honestly don’t know. This isn’t like him though. I’ve never seen him so angry and possessive. It’s almost like…”

He trailed off, realization slowly dawning on him and he inhaled sharply.

“Like you’re his mission.”

Y/N froze, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. That couldn’t be it, could it? He wasn’t the Winter Solider. They took out the trigger words so there’d be no way for him to go back. His behavior was different. He was aware of what he was doing. He wasn’t mindlessly following orders and an empty shell.

“No, think about it.” Steve turned to face Y/N. “He’s suffered some pretty serious trauma from Vivian, it pretty much ruined him and his self-confidence. It set him back, even further than when he first came to the compound. And then you came along and helped him reset. You put him back on the right track, you helped him become more confident in himself.”

“But how does that make me his mission though?” Y/N asked skeptically.

“Because you’ve become his everything. Really, I guess you’re more like his trigger. Haven’t you noticed how he only gets that way if anyone gets too close to you? He snaps into this state where he’s ready to take anyone down, no matter what the cost is and no matter who the person is” Steve explained. “It’s like he’s letting his fear of you leaving him or someone taking you away from his control how he acts. Yes. This isn’t him being the brainwashed assassin that Hydra created. It’s more like some strange hybrid of the Solider and himself.”

“Yeah, but…” Y/N started to argue, slowly seeing how it could make a little bit of sense. The Winter Soldier was known for how calculative and methodical he could be in missions. He was a shadow, quiet and swift. No one could tell what was going through his mind at any given moment. However, he did have moments where he was ruthless and vicious, not caring if it hurt others in the process. The only difference is with Bucky now vs then, he had emotions overriding his thoughts and mind. He wasn’t blank. 

The crap Vivian pulled had pulled on him was like a vice, and he was letting his insecurities override his rationality. Even though it still didn’t totally line up, it still made sense to a degree. He was scared she would leave him, and the dormant instincts of protecting they had drilled in his head kicked in. She hadn’t realized how bad this had become and how dangerous the entire situation was. Y/N knew it was serious, but not this serious.

“Captain Rogers.” FRIDAY interrupted their epiphany, causing Y/N to nearly fly out of her skin. Steve bit the inside of his cheek and scrubbed his hand down his face.

“Yes, FRIDAY?”

“Boss needs you at the hanger. King T’challa and his sister will be here in five to speak with you both.” The AI responded. Both Y/N and Steve shot each other a confused look.

“Did he mention why they’re here?” He asked.

“No, just that they want to speak with you after they land.”

Steve inhaled deeply, clenching and unclenching his fist. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t mind such an unexpected visit from them, however, right now he didn’t want to leave Y/N alone. Not when she was hurting and needing support.

“Go ahead.” Y/N urged gently. “I’ll be okay. I probably should take a minute to wrap my brain around this alone.”

“Are you sure?” Steve turned to her and frowned. She nodded and looked down at her hands.

“I’ll be okay. Really. I just… I don’t want to go back to my room right now.” She murmured softly. Steve mulled over his options before finally giving with a heavy sigh.

“You should probably stay here. I don’t think Bucky will think to look here first, so it might be best.” He reasoned. He slowly rose and stared down at Y/N as she sniffled quietly. “I’ll make sure FRIDAY only opens for me. Try not to worry too much about everything right now. When I get back we’ll figure something out. We can’t let things keep escalating the way they are anymore though.”

Y/N agreed and nodded, reaching for the tissue box once again. Steve hesitated a moment before he walked over to his shoes to slip on.

“I shouldn’t be gone too long. I’ll tell FRIDAY to let you know if anything changes.” He said and stopped at the door. Y/N sent him a tight-lipped smile and waved her hand.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be here when you get back.”

With a sharp jerk of his chin, Steve shot her one last glance over his shoulder before he stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him. Making sure he told FRIDAY to keep his room in lockdown until he said it was clear, Steve made his way to the hanger with his stomach in knots. Both his best friend and his close friend were hurting. And he needed to figure out a way to fix this.

NSFW Tag: (Open- MUST BE 18+, NO EXCEPTIONS)

@cherrynat  / @221bshrlocked / @theapologies / @lusts-of-the-flesh / @rowencarter3 / @littlehellflame / @buckyb4rnacle / @diinofayce / @sincerelymlg / @punkrockhippiefromthefourties / @slytherinlifeislove / @moderapoppins / @nirinael-the-rising-demon / @girlwhoisfearless / @whatisanniedoin / @xxashy999xx / @cinema212 / @sergeantjbuckybarnes / @lokigodofsasss / @myforeveryoungblog /  @serpentbaby / @palaiasaurus64 / @electra-hxart / @libbymouse / @disaster-rose /

What Have I Done Tag List: (CLOSED)

@slender–spirit / @lilypalmer1987 / @dennnnny-just-wants-friends / @barricade15 / @sarahblueheaven / @aveatquevale- / @starkxpotts / @runnyperson / @neireav / @sgtbookybarnes / @swtwtrgin / @wearemightyghosts / @blushybryan / @alex–awesome–22 / @rebelfleur22 / @joannie95 / @sarcasmoverlordxo / @consumedbyfanfics / @huburtle / @farfromjustordinary / @badassbaker / @shynara51 / @imagine–trash / @robfangirl / @buckywhoops / @sonarsyndor / @ughofcourse / @heartssick / @itsmysticalmystery / @meowchickameow / @ambivalence-is-me / @marvelellie / @lkcarts / @littlephoenix-fire / @heartssick / @xxkimmilyxx / @crist1216 / @sideeffectsofyou / @slender–spirit / @phoenixwintersolo / @misplacedorphan / @diinofayce / @anamcg317 / @kimpun / @darkangeldesignstudio / @misplacedorphan / @otaku-dess / @sarcasmoverlordxo / @thegothicdancer / @withinthewallsofmybrain / @polar-bear-pjs / @scarletsoldierrr / @awesome-hoch-3 / @catsandbooksinafarawayplace / @wishingforahome / @lokissoul / @xxkimmilyxx / @shirukitsune / @hennessy0274-blog /

Let me know if I missed you, the strike means I can’t tag you for some reason.)

[sunsetcurve]

we’ll come together (state of the art)

Summary: Before, she'd gotten so caught up in all of it—trying to stop Captain Man from erasing her memories, then trying to get his back—that she hadn't really had time to process this. And now she does. And it's making her head hurt.

Because, well. Henry is Kid Danger.

Fandom: Henry Danger

Relationships: Henry Hart & Piper Hart

Word Count: 1,640

A/N: it took every ounce of willpower i had not to title this “Hart to Hart”. 

(actual title is from one of my favorite songs by my favorite band ever, kids in the dark by all time low). 

anyway, here it is, the “piper and henry have a talk” fic that i really just needed to get out of my system. this was really fun to write, but keep in mind that my general motto when writing hd fics (and fic in general, really), is “fuck canon i do what i want” so this is really cheesy and somewhat ooc. it’s fine. sort of. i had a good time, and that’s what we’re here for, right?

Dedications: i’m gonna tag some of the wonderful people here, but no pressure to read it at all! @rorythevambire @up-the-tube @ciara-knightly @cactus-con @mychenrymadness @charlottepage @henryhearts @bijerbear @taylorswiftrulestheworld @just-a-j-reallly

if you want to be tagged/untagged in the future just let me know! enjoy :)

* * * 

When it's over, the Man Cave is quiet.

This is a strange, sharp contrast to the chaos that Piper had fallen into before, but now Captain Man's—Ray's—memories are back, and he's sleeping off the side effects in his room, and Henry, Charlotte, and Jasper are upstairs in the store and Schwoz is...somewhere. He went off with a vague explanation, and he's sort of a strange man so Piper's not really sure she wants to ask questions.

(Come to think of it, she's pretty sure she's seen him before—the German 'neighbor' who came to Henry's birthday party, the 'plumber' who came to fix their sink—she thinks she's even seen him around at the high school. Which makes a lot more sense now, but is still mildly unsettling.)

Piper tugs the headband out of her hair and fiddles with the bow in her hands. She's probably ruined her hair, and really the outfit isn't complete without the accessory but she can't really bring herself to care. She needs something to do with her hands, and her mind is running in circles that are way too fast to be satisfied by scrolling mindlessly through Instagram right now. There's too much to think about.

Before, she'd gotten so caught up in all of it—trying to stop Captain Man from erasing her memories, then trying to get his back—that she hadn't really had time to process this. And now she does. And it's making her head hurt.

Because, well. Henry is Kid Danger.

And if she really thinks about it, it's not that hard to reconcile the two. They've got the same hair, the same smile, the same stupid sense of humor—the same bravery that Piper pretends she doesn't see. And, if she really thinks about it, there's a part of her that's known for a while. Since he broke his arm, maybe. Or even before then.

But she never wanted to believe it. The difficulty comes when she tries to put Henry in that position in her mind. She's seen Kid Danger fight off villain after villain, take punches and be shot at and thrown into walls and god knows what else that wasn't broadcasted on TV, and she's always known that there was a teenager behind that mask but realizing it's been her brother this whole time is something entirely different. Something that's hard for her to wrap her head around.

She wonders how many times he'd snuck out and come back in the dead of the night without any of them noticing, wonders how many injuries he'd hidden just to pretend things were normal. She wonders why she and her family never even asked about his disappearances. She wonders, briefly, how many times Henry has almost died without them knowing anything about it, and then stops that train of thought before it goes too far.

That's not something she wants to consider.

Piper rubs at her eyes with the heels of her palms.

Then, the elevator dings, and she makes a show of putting her headband back into place and trying to look like she's just re-adjusting her hair and not her entire view of the world. Henry steps out, and there's still glitter in his hair and on his cheeks—the bubblegum-ploy Ray had come up with had been less than successful. He looks at Piper, sitting on the steps near the elevator, and tilts his head curiously as he takes a seat next to her.

"So I'm guessing you were never actually the playground pooper?" she says first, because she's not really sure what else to say.

Henry laughs, sounding a little relieved, like he was expecting something else. "Nope. I swear on my life I have never pooped on a playground. Or broken my arm doing it."

"That's kind of a shame," she hums. "It was really good blackmail material." This gets him to attempt at bumping her in the ribs with his elbow, but she dodges before he can and sticks her tongue out at him. "It was also a pretty shitty excuse, y'know," she adds.

He scoffs incredulously. "Uh, first of all, it was Jasper's idea, and also, you fell for it," he retorts, defensive.

Piper sort of glances at her feet, then, furrowing her brow just a little. "Yeah, but I shouldn't have." She shakes her head. "I should've figured it out a long time ago."

"I was worried you would," he says after a moment, and scoots closer to her. "All the disappearances, right?"

"Yeah, and your terrible lies, like...the 'makeup excuse'? You can't do a decent wing to save your life."

Henry scoffs at that but doesn't argue, and then it's quiet for a beat and Piper tries to figure out how to say what she wants to. She's not good at this part; she's honest and bold and unwavering with her words, always, but this is different. This is trying to voice the mixture of pride and worry and frustration and fear that's been sitting in her chest for the last few hours.

She takes a breath. "And," she starts, without really knowing where she's going, and she sees Henry look up out of the corner of her eye but doesn't meet his gaze, "I should've known that your stupid junk store was just a ploy."

He opens his mouth to respond, but she keeps going; it's hard to stop now that she's started. "And I should've known that your boss was way too intrusive for it to be normal, and I should've known your watch was suspicious. And you never let anyone near your bubblegum, I should've figured out that there was something weird about that a long time ago, and I should've—" her breath catches, and then her voice quivers a little and she hates it, "—and I should've known you'd be the only teenager dumb enough to risk your life every single day—"

"Piper," Henry says, and puts his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Piper, it's okay—"

"Don't say that!" She stands up, trying not to have a full-blown meltdown, because those are reserved for Jana Tetrazzini and Wi-Fi crashes, but then again, she decides, this outscales both of those things by miles. Her hands are shaking. "What if you had died? What if someone had—and we wouldn't even have known, and don't—" she says when his mouth opens, "don't try and tell me that you were fine; I've seen the news, I've seen you fight villains, I've seen people shoot at you with-with actual guns and you're not like Ray, you're not indestructible—"

"I know that, okay?" And Henry's standing now, too, and his voice is sharp—not angry, really, but frustrated, and maybe just tired. Piper deflates a little.

"I know," he says again. "But, Piper...Ray needs me. Swellview needs me. Someone has to do this, and...it just happened to be me, okay? This is my job now." He pauses, and then his lips quirk upward into a small smile. "I might not have the 'great power', but I still have the—"

"If you finish that sentence, I will hit you," Piper warns, and he shuts his mouth.

She's never seen him look this serious about anything, though. It's strange to her, that she could've missed a part of her brother that's so big, and now that she knows it feels like the mask couldn't change a thing. There's a voice in the back of her mind that wants to tell Henry to put his suit up for good, walk away while he's still living and breathing and okay (because maybe she'll never admit it, but her love for Kid Danger is significantly outweighed by her love for Henry Hart), but the rest of her knows that it wouldn't matter either way. He'd still be the same; brave and reckless and stupid, and her brother.

And she's trying to decide if she hates him for it.

"You're such an idiot," she says finally, and hugs him. She feels his laugh more than she hears it, and his chin comes to rest on top of her head and she's sort of trying not to cry, especially because she thinks her makeup looks good today and Henry's wearing something that isn't a flannel for once and she really doesn't want to ruin it.

"So...are we cool now?" he asks hopefully, after a moment passes, and she shakes her head against his chest.

"Nope. No way. We are so far from cool, Henry."

She doesn't let go, though.

Neither does he, and they just stay like that, and she can't remember the last time they've hugged like this and she would never say it out loud but she missed it. When they finally pull apart, he grins at her and tousles her hair like he used to do when they were kids.

"Come on," he says then, and steps up the low stairs. "I want to show you something." There's a familiar glimmer in his eye, the same look he gets when they sneak out to watch R-rated horror movies or pull pranks on their parents together, and she lifts an eyebrow.

"Show me what?"

He gestures for her to join him. "Just, trust me." His voice is tinged with fondness, and she scoffs as he continues, "It's like, a rite of passage."

Piper hesitates a moment longer before going to stand next to him. Henry glances at the ceiling, and then positions himself on the floor, and then tugs Piper close to him. She tenses, but wraps her arms around him. "Um. What are we doing?"

"You'll see," he says, and then looks up again. He clicks something on his watch, and a glass tube descends around them, and Piper yelps. Henry laughs. "You're gonna love this part. Ready?"

"For what?"

"Just hold on tight," he grins, and then, "Up the tube!"

[musiclovingbitch]

Oh I want all of them 1-50!

Fuck. I brought this onto myself. Putting this under a read-more so that people don’t kill me.

1. What was your first fic and could you stand to reread it today?

I don’t think any of you know this but the first fic I ever wrote was a Shameless one-shot that was titled ‘Mine’ and it was just semi-good, semi-bad smut. The first and last fic I ever posted on fanfic.net, actually. I deleted it years ago and didn’t save a copy, so it’s gone forever now…

2. What’s your most recent fic and how far do you think you’ve come?

My most recent fic is Part, written for the 2019 Klaine Advent Challenge, and also the gleepotluckbigbang. I’m fallen majorly behind cause I have some studying to do, so I may take a long while to finish the rest of the klaine advent.

It’s much, much better than Mine was, lol.

3. In your opinion, what’s your best fic?

Oh, that’s so difficult. While I’m not happy with everything I’ve posted, there’s a bunch that have a special place in my heart. Escape came to mind first, partly because I love older!Blaine fics, which is kind of shocking to me cause it’s one of the very first fics I ever wrote, and statistically I tend to like my older fics less.

4. In your opinion and without looking at any numbers, what’s your most popular fic?

I have looked at the numbers before, though not recently, so I have an idea.

I think Escape is the reigning queen right now, actually, but Incapacitated by Love and The Effects of Cookies on Shy Teenagers are gunning for her crown, lol.

5. Is there any fic that makes you super happy to reread and remember you wrote that?

I don’t tend to reread any of my fics, but like I said, there are a few that I love. Escaped and Incapacitated by Love are two of them, along with Together, I Need A Gangsta, and Question.

6. Is there any fic that makes you super embarrassed to reread and remember you wrote that?

Uh, one of the reasons I don’t reread my fics is the cringe factor, so, no. I reread Mine a couple of years after I posted it and it made me delete it, so. I think it’s in everyone’s interest that I don’t.

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

I don’t write multi-chaptered fics, so, not in that regard, but.

When I first posted I Need A Gangsta, I had a surprisingly large amount of people asking for a sequel. It’s been years since I posted it, but last week I started thinking about it and I have a little bit of inspiration, so. You may wanna look for that in the upcoming months. (I have exams coming up, be patient.)

8. What’s the oldest (longest since last update) fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

Again, I don’t write multi-chaptered fics, but.

I got asked for a sequel to one of the fics I wrote for the 2015 Klaine Advent, Wish, which is inspired by Aladdin. I haven’t gotten around to it yet… *hides in shame*

9. Have you ever written for a fandom without watching/reading/playing the source material?

Nah. I’m not sure if I could. Although, I do usually write AUs, so. I think some of them could fit pretty much any pairing.

10. Have you ever written for a fandom without reading other fanfic for it?

I hadn’t read any Shameless fanfic before writing and posting my own. But I read klaine fanfic for years before I attempted writing it.

11. Have you ever written a fic for a concept you know someone else has done before? How did it impact your writing process or feelings after posting?

Nothing specific comes to mind right now? I do occasionally get inspired by prompts, (and you can all blame @slayediest​ for reblogging them onto my dash) and they obviously get used by a whole bunch of people, but usually inspiration for different fics comes a little more naturally, like I’ll hear a song or whatever. 

I did write a fake dating au and I was nervous about writing it, I took more care than usual if that makes sense, and that was both because it’s such an iconic trope, but also because it was a gift to the delightful @lilyvandersteen​, so I was even more anxious than usual after posting it cause I was waiting to see if she liked it or not.

12. Have you ever written a fic and decided never to publish it? Why?

There are so. many. fics. in my drafts folder, but all but two are unfinished. Those two that are finished but not published I just don’t like very much. I keep them with the intent of re-writing the parts I don’t like and posting them. Eventually, hopefully, I’ll get around to that.

13. What’s the biggest change between your style when you started in fandom and today?

I’m more comfortable writing now than back when I first started, I guess? I was way more hesitant then.

I do write better smut now.

14. What’s the biggest change in your taste between when you started in fandom and today?

Let’s just say I’m into some kinky shit now and it’s definitely because of late nights spent on AO3.

Trope-wise, not much has changed about my preferences.

15. Have you ever purposefully written one fandom/fic idea over another because you knew it’d be more popular?

Nah. I don’t vibe like that. The words don’t come out of me.

16. Have you ever stopped writing a fic/for a fandom because it wasn’t receiving enough attention?

Nope.

17. In your opinion, what’s your most overrated fic?

It’s definitely Closer. I was debating not posting it and it has more hits than it has words, I really don’t get it.

18. What’s your most underrated fic?

I’m not sure. I feel like I’d be nagging if I said, oh hey not enough of you guys read/liked/reblogged this fic of mine. 

People have their preferences. I’m okay with that.

19. If you had to pick one fic/scene/chapter of your work to describe your entire portfolio to a stranger, which would you pick?

Fuck. Maybe Together? It has the mix of intense angst/sappy romance that you’ll find in my fics 100% of the time.

20. Have/Would you ever rewrite a fic? If yes, would you take the original down?

I haven’t, and I don’t think I will. I don’t tend to linger over fics once I’ve posted them.

21. If someone starts kudosing and commenting your fics in a spree and has a few works of their own, would you go look through theirs?

This has happened three times and I loved it every single time. I would definitely check out their profile, yes. 

22. Has there ever been anyone who’s made you freak out because they read your work and followed/favorited/reviewed?

Are you kidding me? Literally all of you, yes. Fandom royalty has read my work, bitches. 

23. What’s the nicest review you’ve ever gotten?

Oh, god. Someone commented that I made them cry, it was the best, it made my entire week.

24. What’s the meanest review you’ve ever gotten? Do you think the reviewer intended it?

I’m very lucky in that aspect, I’ve never gotten hate in regards to my fic. 

I did write a fic where Blaine and Sam were teaching a CPR class that Kurt was in, and at the end, I had Sam interrupt them while they were speaking, and someone left a mean comment about Sam? I smelled fandom wank and did not engage.

25. What constructive criticism, however well-meaning, always makes you feel bad when you see it in a review?

Haven’t gotten any of that.

26. What aspect of your writing do you most enjoy to see praised?

I like making people feel things. If you tell me I made you feel good or bad with my fic, I’m going to be delighted.

27. If you could only ever write crossovers or single-fandom fics ever again, which would you pick?

Single-fandom fics.

28. if you could only ever write for a single crossover or a single fandom again, which would you pick?

Glee, obvi. I’d never give you cuties up.

29. Does the division of your writing across fandoms line up with your reading? What’s the biggest discrepancy?

Well, although I have considered writing for some of my other fandoms, it just hasn’t felt right. That may change in the future, and that’ll be an interesting day.

30. Do you continue to write for a fandom after you’ve moved on or do you focus solely on the new one?

I think klaine has become such an important part of my life that I don’t see myself giving it up entirely.

31. Who’s the one character you’ve just never managed to get perfectly right?

I don’t think I have ever gotten any character perfectly right, but that’s okay. It helps that the majority of my fics are AUs, so I don’t feel a lot of hesitation having them do or say some OOC things.

32. Who’s the one character who shines without you even trying?

I think I’ve nailed Kurt and Blaine at different scenes in different fics, but no particular character comes easy to me.

33. Is there any particular character whose scenes always wind up being longer/more frequent than you expected? Does the quality hold up?

Rachel kind of takes over sometimes and I have to go back and edit things out, lol. That’s just her diva way.

34. Was there any fic that you wrote that really surprised you in the fandom reaction? Was it just by the numbers or did they take it an entirely different way?

I think the one that surprised me with just how much response it received (I know that phrasing is wrong but I can’t be bothered right now) is Incapacitated by Love. Who knew people in the glee fandom had a thing about police officer!Blaine.

35. Have you ever written a ship into a fic without meaning to?

I keep klaine as the main focus, so the backround couples switch up ocassionally and I don’t particularly care.

36. Have you ever sincerely written a ship you do not support into a fic?

Nope.

37. Have you ever purposefully bashed a character/ship in a fic?

Not that I can remember.

38. Have you ever purposefully written something you know your readers would find uncomfortable/would not enjoy? If yes, why?

I don’t think so?

39. Do you consider yourself to have a readership?

Not really. Although if any of you consider yourself to be a loyal reader of mine, please let me know.

40. Do you feel like you put out enough content?

No, that’s kind of the worst part about my muse, she’s a flighty bitch.

41. If you cross-post your fics on multiple sites, do you have a favorite? Are there certain fics you would only post on certain site?

AO3 is the best. Tumblr can suck my dick.

42. How many views has your most popular fic gotten?

Incapacitated by Love has 1554 hits! Wow.

43. Your least popular?

Ground has only 95 hits, but I posted it a few days ago.

44. Do you follow/favorite/kudos/comment/review more stories than you have received?

I have no idea what this question is asking.

45. If you had to call yourself an author of a single genre (besides fanfic) what label would you give yourself?

AU all the way, baby, although that’s apparent.

46. Do you consider yourself a diverse author?

No, I think I have a very specific style. I dither in between gut-wrenching angst and tooth-aching fluff. That’s it, that’s my fics.

47. If someone you know in real life who isn’t involved in fandoms asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. There’s too much gay porn and I’m too closeted for this shit.

48. Does anyone you know from outside of fandom know you write fanfic? Are they involved in the same fandom too?

Yes, one friend of mine knows, although she doesn’t know what I write, or for which fandom(s).

49. Has anyone in your life ever read your fanfic just because you wrote it?

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

50. Has writing fanfic had a significant impact on your life? Would you say it’s entirely positive?

Of course it’s had a massive impact in my life. It’s a huge creative outlet and I’ve ‘met’ so many people because of it! I think it’s like 85% positive.

[aparticularbandit]

Current State of Bandit Fic

The last official one of these was in May, and then the last other update of a general updating schedule magnitude was in July, so...it’s been a while, so it’s time for another one of these, I think.

Under the cut because I know these tend to get long and not everyone wants to read all of it and apologies to mobile users because I don’t think the cut works for y’all.  Sorry!

plans for the rest of the year in terms of updates:

I’ve updated my word count this month to 1.5k daily instead of 1k daily and then plan to up it to 2k daily during Nanowrimo - and then if that’s able to hold, I’m hoping to keep that daily 2k up during December (but with the holidays, who knows).

I really like doing those polls before the Monday updates to see what y’all want and then posting that - and I think, with the variations in what I have in backlog, that maybe works better until I have a bunch of backlog for a bunch of different projects (like how I had Carla finished and had Luisa and the Fox finished and so was really just alternating new writing in between ... was it maybe once a month?) - so I think, come November, I’ll probably do that again.  That way I’m updating projects I have stuff written for and don’t feel constrained to projects I don’t have written updates for and might feel constrained trying to write updates.

October is still Kiss Prompts Month - I do have fall prompts, too, but other than one, they’re unfinished and probably won’t get posted until November.

October Monday updates will also continue to be for Luisa and the Wolf because that is your spoopy Halloween holiday fic.  Huzzah.

November is Nanowrimo, but given the writing this month, I should be okay in terms of keeping up the Monday schedule.

I have:

one (1) chapter of Falling

two (2) chapters of Aftershocks

one (1) fall prompt

two (2) chapters of Bitches Get Glitches

potentially three if i split that third chapter up into two chapters, which i’m still seriously considering doing.

Those should cover the four Monday updates in November if I don’t write other stuff for them.

My focus for the rest of the year in terms of finishing something is to finish the rough draft of the first book of the Roisa HP AU.  That’s the book I’m planning to focus on during Nanowrimo, and hopefully I’ll be able to get the rough done so that I can get the first book to y’all sometime next year.

Roisa Secret Santa is a thing!  I’m organizing that and I hope that goes off really well!

I may do Christmas or holiday prompts in December - because I really like having short little prompts to work on when I don’t want to dive into a deeper chapter - something short to write instead of something longer is oddly nice - so we’ll see about that.

I also want to finish one of the Christmas fics I started last year, but it’s not good in terms of word count - like...you’ll understand if I post it - but that’s...a high priority.

Other than that, I don’t know what the Monday updates in December will be, but we can cross that bridge when we get there.

general fic updates (aka - i mostly stop using capital letters for whatever reason):

posted but incomplete fics:

if you lived here, you’d be home now:

no one’s asked but it’s been months since an update and it’s not that i don’t want to update, it’s that it’s been long enough that i feel i should finish a reread of what’s posted before starting the next chapter and i keep dragging my feet on that.

i actually have a good idea of what happens in the next several chapters, so that’s not the issue, it’s just getting myself to finish the reread and then actually doing the writing.

there’s still a lot of chapters left.  sorry?  maybe i’m sorry for not updating more regularly now that ACAL is finished. :/

jane: the real story:

this is on back-burner because, even though i’m really salty, i’ve found that when i hit hey, it’s time to write petra! i run into a wall of okay, but i know people love petra, and i know she has a very specific voice and tone and then i get kind of...overwhelmed and worried that she’ll be ooc.  which is probably why i haven’t written the next chapter yet (michael isn’t really like this, but he might be - and raf isn’t like this at all because raf in j:trs is meant to be a commentary on...raf).  i think it’s that i don’t have a well enough grip of writing petra closer to canon to feel up to par writing her in this situation.  maybe?  idk.

i know this is one of the most ... whatever fics on ao3 when it comes to my fics, so like, i’m aware of that, it’s just...back-burner right now.

heart in motion:

i actually started the second chapter of this a while back.  i should finish that.  if so, you might see it in a monday update poll   we’ll see.

luisa and the child:

aka the sequel to luisa and the fox

i have the first...two?  three? idk chapters written.  i’m still feeling out the plot - i have a good idea of bits and pieces of it, but i’m still waiting on those to come together in one cohesive thing.

similar to the last three chapters of luisa and the fox, i don’t plan on posting these until i’ve got the entire thing roughed out and gone through a second write.  maybe a beta.  not sure on that one yet.

sin rostro:

this is another one of those petra is an important character who shows up in the next chapter and i’m not sure i’ll write her well issues.  holding off on this one.

emilia antonia:

i have a general idea for what happens in the next chapter, as well as a general idea of what happens in the rest of the fic.  this one’s a matter of me sitting down and focusing on it and writing it, and i’ve been in a bandit writes lint fic headspace recently, which doesn’t bother me.

falling:

i feel like i should go back and resee some of the episodes of hannibal with margot in s2 and s3 and then review a bit of muskrat farm in s3 (as well as some of alana in s3) because that’s where lu is in chapter three.  because i haven’t, i’ve been holding off on writing this one, too, even though i...have a general idea of things that happen throughout the fic. but no real ending.

also maybe have a crack fic planned that would technically be a sequel to this one but would really be a crack fic.  maybe.  we’ll see.

aftershocks:

have two new chapters for y’all written.

have a general idea of what happens in the next chapter.

have a general idea of things that happen in later chapters but not sure where those chapters are in terms of how immediate they are, if that makes sense.

the time of your life:

bitches get glitches is completely done in terms of second write, so each chapter would probably just need a precursory read-through in terms of grammar/spelling/etc. and other minor edits.

with the exception of what would be the third chapter if i split the current third chapter into two chapters - the roisa scene probably warrants a little more than just a precursory read-through before posting.

i’ve started the next fic, which is rafael’s fic.  the next one would be petra’s.

basically, each of the first however many fics (four) focuses on one character and their encounters with their soulmate timer.

one screwed up family focused on rose, even though it also included luisa’s past with her timer.

bitches get glitches focuses on jane, even though it also includes carry-over updates on what’s been going on with luisa and rose since the first fic.

the third fic focuses on rafael.

the fourth fic focuses on petra.

at this point, i have a fairly good idea of when each of these five characters’ timers went off and when they might go off in future fics (i’d be more specific here, but spoilers!).

after those four, i would want to write a fifth fic that wraps things up - but this is kind of dependent on where things get left off in petra’s fic.

rafael’s encounters don’t finish in his fic, which leaves it on kind of a cliff-hanger, and i don’t think his final encounter happens in petra’s fic, so...fifth fic.

i’m actually hoping that writing petra in this fic will give me the confidence to write petra in the other fics she shows up.  so.  there’s that.

unposted fics:

where the lightning splits the sea:

aka roisa hp au

as stated before, the first book is my planned main project for nanowrimo and i hope to have the rough draft finished by the end of the year (we’ll see if that actually happens or not).

i have an entire series outline consisting of main things i want to happen in each book, along with their titles, and things that have to happen in specific books to set up for the proper pay off in later books.

the first book is entirely outlined - chapter by chapter.

i’ve started chapter-by-chapter outlines for books two and three.

the entire compiled outline alone is seventeen pages long.

i love this project a lot, and i’m super excited to share it with y’all, it’s just long.

mexican stud:

aka rosalint fic

i have a full working outline!  chapter by chapter!  huzzah!

this one still comes in bits and pieces and scenes that aren’t always interconnected.  i know what happens, but then pick and choose at scenes to write when i want to write it.

this fic will likely end up being fairly explicit - or, compared with other stuff i’ve written, more explicit - simply due to the themes and the content.  that may be part of why i take so long to write it - explicit scenes have a tendency to make me uncomfortable when i’m reading them and i don’t feel fully comfortable posting explicit scenes. but....

this would considered part of the epic superhero crossover (see below), even though the events are, to some extent, considered canon to aftershocks (with some exceptions which can be explained...later).

everything’s coming up rose’s:

stalled.

still excited, still want to write it, but focusing on other things atm.

various other soulmate aus:

one-shot (tentatively titled chorus: romance says goodnight):

still kicking around in my head.

still want to write it.

don’t think y’all will like it because it’s in raf’s point of view.

and other reasons.

but still want to write it.

dreamers often lie:

still at the point where i’ve brainstormed enough that i should start writing it because then i’ll get a more concrete idea of the world and of the events in the world but--

i’m currently focused on the soulmate timer au in terms of soulmate fics right now.  oops.

epic superhero crossover:

aka jtv/tick/timeless/supergirl/x-files/agent carter crossover.

hey, look, that’s a lot of things, so expect this to be massive, too.

the more i brainstorm this one, the bigger it gets, and at this point, i think it’ll probably be a bunch of interconnected fics in a series - like the time of your life - the soulmate timer au - instead of one big massive fic. it’s just easier to conceive of that way.

mexican stud is a fic on its own but goes within this crossover.

i want to write a fic about how emma and whitney get together (because they are together before rose gets them and all three of them are together in mexican stud - together as in a group, not as in together, even though emma and whitney definitely are together).

i want to write a fic about how dottie became the way she is when we meet her in the main fic (this would likely involve carterwood and dottie/whitney aspects - either directly or implied - and then it would likely come up in the main fic, there’s a bit from the part i just wrote that i want to be directly an exact quote from this).

i want to write a fic with rhea raising dottie (and potentially use that as backstory on how rhea and lena are...coworkers/acquaintances/partners/surrogate found family/etc. which could lead to complications re: lena and dottie but...idk).

even if lena isn’t a huge part of the rhea/dottie family fluff, i want to write something that deals with rhea in luthor-corp and l-corp and what she was doing after she got to earth - because that one’s different than canon (because i’m using ben’s rhea in a pod au v1 for this).

then there’s the main fic itself - which is where you get a lot of the crossover elements - particularly the x-files elements, which don’t really come up directly in the other fics but are definitely there in some of them (and by some of them, i mean the dottie backstory fic, they would be in the dottie backstory fic).  this would also be where the supergirl cast actually comes in (other than rhea and lena and the luthors and maybe astra?  maybe astra’s alive in this?  since rhea was around maybe she took astra?  or lillian?  idk haven’t decided yet).

so - like - this one is also a huge massive undertaking but in a different way than the roisa hp au is.  the interconnected fics for this aren’t necessarily as linear as the ones for the roisa hp au, and i want the main fic to be enjoyable on its own even if you haven’t read the other fics - the other fics might also stand on their own ish, but like...the random kingdom hearts games - to get the full story, you maybe want to play the main games.  ish.

also debating using my trans!mulder here because...like, i love him and i know he got me into trouble but...his story works so well here in context and i would love to use him here.  so.  it’s.  complicated.  :/

but - yeah - there’s your update on the state of things.  maybe look out for another update at the beginning of january, because i might be changing up some of how i’ve been writing and goals and things - but i think that’s it for now.

[dishonoredrpg]

Congratulations, TARYN! You’ve been accepted for the role of THE MOON with the faceclaim of FRIDA GUSTAVSSON. In spite of a few understandable bumps in the road, you really blew me away with Maiden! The Moon is a very understated character, to me, in that their subtleties and smaller notes are what really make them interesting. You took them in a direction I wasn’t expecting, but I enjoyed the ride nevertheless -- I also enjoyed the ups-and-downs of the plots quite a lot, and how you tied everything together with a nice little bow in regards to her interest in botany and the past which she is still trying to uncover. Altogether, this was a delight to read, and I can’t wait for Maiden to grace the dash!

Please review the CHECKLIST and send your blog in within 24 hours.

OOC NAME: Taryn PRONOUNS: She/her AGE: 21+ TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL: PST & currently I’m stuck at home and rarely allowed to leave the house because I’m immunocompromised… bleh. In a week or so I’ll be considered okay to rejoin people, and then I’ll be on the job hunt - which I only mention because it may change my activity ability once that’s happening! I also do help out behind the scenes at another roleplay, so some creative juice goes there. Overall, ideally I’m at least online everyday to chat, plot, or post a reply. Some days the ole mental health needs me to stay off screens for a bit or just says You Aren’t Writing Today, but I’d say it’s been a while since I’ve gone more than 3 days without posting on an rp account, so whatever that translates to -- 7/10, maybe? ANYTHING ELSE?: Other than what I already messaged you about (and thank you again for your understanding!!), I just want to say I interpreted things a little differently than the recent skeleton edit/your anon answers imply -- I thought her magic manifested at thirteen with the instance of Moon freezing her mother’s arm, meaning her mother knew from that early age that Moon had powers, and only told Moon to leave when the rumours spread. I think that switches up the dynamic you might have imagined, but hopefully you still like it! I was also a little confused as to whether or not the Moon’s mother ever instructed her in the work she does -- because there is the “All she ever does in return is chuckle and pat you on the head, but you figure that she’ll tell you one day.” line, but it seems that’s when she’s younger, and I figured if she’s working as a botanist at the castle she must have been lessoned in the stuff to some degree. So there is mention of her mother teaching her botany in her history, but it’s not an ~important detail at all and could literally just straight up be removed from the bio without issue. Can you tell I’m anxious and need to over-clarify everything? Lmao. Anyway, thanks again Julie!! IN CHARACTER SKELETON: The Moon NAME: Maiden Mallorian / “Triss” I don’t largely go into naming conventions but I think there’s some worth in discussing it here! The use of Maiden as a given name is meant to embody an Otherness by using a commonly-used noun in place of a traditional name (... though I guess all names are nouns too… anyway), as well as a mystique. EG: If every young, unmarried woman is a maiden, then who is the girl we call Maiden? Is she all of those young women, or none of them - is she a person, or a concept? Can a woman even have an identity with a moniker shared by so many -- a similar question to can a girl have a sense of self if she is raised in isolation, if her teachers are not people but the meadows, the crows and the heaths and the moors? There’s also certainly the archetype of The Maiden in literature, particularly in relation to the trio of Maiden / Mother / Crone. Beyond her mother embracing this triumvirate of feminine archetypes and deliberately naming her after as much, there’s just that very literal interpretation - I’ve named her after the maiden archetype, pure and simple. Her mother is, clearly, the mother, and I see the High Priestess rounding out that divine feminine trio as the crone -- the most aged of all, the closest to death, and the bearer of the most knowledge. Furthermore you have the scrubbing of this name and the replacement of it with Triss -- a simple, short nickname that bares no importance or meaning, and instead effectively erases the things that made her unique. Maiden tends to forget or, at least, forgo introducing herself with the alias both because she dislikes and genuinely forgets to use it -- so you may have a smattering of people who know her in-character as Triss, but to those that she knows better and/or takes a liking to immediately, they’ll know her as Maiden. Which, if I’m continuing to be a little extra with the name analysis, is also a good representation of her duality/contradiction -- two names, two selves, two parts to the moon (glowing at night; invisible by day-hours), the illusion/deception part of the moon tarot, and all that jazz.   FACECLAIM: (1) Frida Gustavsson (2) Ashley Moore AGE: Twenty-five DETAILS: So, full disclosure, I’ve said it a dozen times to a dozen different people but I had the hardest time deciding on a character -- I was literally stuck between five or six skeletons until like 48 hours before the submit closed. They were as varied as The Moon to Temperance to even the dark horse of The Hermit plowing its way through my heart, and what attracted me to that array of characters on the whole was just the ability to see a story in them. I could find in each of them a distinct past and complex future, but the Moon ended up pulling ahead as I started to collect inspiration and jot down notes -- it was Maiden’s story that wouldn’t leave me alone. And I will go into an attempt to tell you why below, but realistically that’s almost the best reason I could give you -- because they won’t unstick from your shoulder or let you reach for someone else. They demand to be spoken for. Truthfully, I love tales of daughters and their mothers. I love the narrative passed between them, how one can be an extension of the other -- I love a retelling of an immaculate conception where the magic is found in the mother, not an absent-holy father (even if said immaculate conception is just myth, because who says a story isn’t as important as a truth). I love women and their stories, and how no girl is ever so far from being a witch -- basically, I adore that Girl Magic, so it was her background that appealed to me first. Because while we’re talking about Girl Magic, there’s such a potential for that with The Moon. I saw her at the crux of an eccentric mage and a clumsy apprentice, possibly hovering in the middle because she has no instructor, only herself -- so she is forced to experiment and create and learn all at once. I also love archetypes of wild women, though that doesn’t have to mean the ones that run with wolves -- sometimes it means the ones who sleep next to them. I’m very drawn to stories of the Others, the ones a half-step from society, who hold something unusual and distinctly enchanted about them -- and Maiden, whose magic has manifested in a way that may prove unique to all humanity, certainly has that Otherness going for her. Women in real life (and in fiction) are so often grouped into homogenous categories or expectations that being able to write one who not only defies societal conventions, but exists outside them entirely, and with contradictions inside her -- phew. That’s some shit I can fall in love with. I do find it difficult to dissect and lay out who Maiden is so plainly -- to me, that’s like writing an analysis on a novel I haven’t finished yet. I can’t separate her bones for you yet on the table because I’m still unrolling them from the skin myself, measuring out the angles of her joints, sizing up her feet, etc. But I like that I know this muse is going to unravel for me with time, despite how much I already have done -- that’s actually a very important note to me in a character, feeling that there is still progress to be made as both myself and the muse go through the roleplay together. Though, that being said, I also don’t remember the last time I’ve been able to create such a long-term character arc from the get-go -- which is super exciting, tbh, and yet another reason I got drawn into the Moon’s lunar pull over the others. Got me out here feeling like I could write a novel 😭 BACKGROUND: let us begin, as all stories do - and as they must - at the beginning. to be fair and honest, as stories never are, we must admit that this is not quite the true beginning. that beginning, in this case and all others, would mean the black-star start of the world (or in the very least, if we are to cheat just slightly, the origins of magic - but i digress), when everything came from nothing and nothing meant everything. but for both your time and mine, we will skip past the first red, slashed dawn of the world, and even beyond the fantastic sky-breaking initiation that brought magic, though they did not come all that far apart, as you may think. i also feel that it is my duty to you, dear reader, to state my bias. that is all. i state it. i type it in bold letters, black like stones from the bottom of a cold ocean and just as cold. it has been relayed, and i have done what is necessary. i have no obligation to further explain to you what it may be, or to who i am favored or embittered - indeed, i staunchly oppose such action, as you yourself must have an active part in this tale, a responsibility to seek out what is truth and what is exaggeration - and there is no point in asking. but don’t read too much into this. all this facetious, drawn-out text is only a disclosure. this is a story, real as your whale-blubber bones, and i am not lying about any of it. all i mean to say is this: it is a sign both of humanity and of narration that we should always, must always, pick a side. it is simply necessary, just as it is necessary to remember this when one is the listener. never believe a narrator who does not disclose themselves upon the opening of a story, and never trust one that calls themselves impartial. they are lying. it is only natural to crave loveliness, or wickedness, or both, and it can only be expected that a tongue slants and bends to accommodate such reactions of the heart. there is no story that is all truth. there is only love and the words we create to try and express it; never quite accurate, never quite enough, like a burr soaked in honey and left on your tongue. stinging and sweet, but no matter how you try, you cannot spit it out. (remember, look closely, but not too hard). this is our story. i leave it in your mouth. there are three things in succession: a bargain, a girl, and magic. the order of these both matters and does not. it does not matter because all these things are one and the same in the end. it does matter for reasons that will become apparent shortly. there is, as many tales go, an unhappy woman (why it is never a man that is so morose and dissatisfied with life in these stories, we shall leave for the scholars to explain). she lives in a stretch of land where few who are not seeking her come, and spends her days shucking the cures and harms out of flowers and counting the wolves that pass by her road. the first bargain, by all accounts, happens some time ago, before we begin the meat of our tale: the woman lives simply but she lives alone, and for that fact alone she is considered both strange and in necessary want of a companion, for it is a truth universally acknowledged that even a peculiar woman is in want of a husband. yet no sojourner or knight come to her door seeking remedy is invited to stay longer, no boots left at her doorstep despite the impressive if not daunting presence of her beauty, and in the absence of romance the people in the farmlands grow restless, then talkative. what does a woman want beside a mate, they wonder? particularly when she is young, and beautiful, and alone, they add, because in these stories and every one that will be told thereafter until my throat is split in a great red grin, that is all that matters to an active audience. a child, they murmur finally. it must be a child. there are varying accounts of what happens next, but let me give you the gristle: a swell comes to the solitary woman’s belly, and in more moons, so comes a daughter. no one remembers when she is born, and it is something of a wonderment that she exists at all; far and wide she is eyed thrice-over by all those who see her babe form swaddled in her mother’s arms, wondering over which crib she has been snatched from. the farm-folk in the nearby flatlands believe that she was not stolen or bred but placed, a changeling offered to her mother in exchange for a bargain made with the undying god, or conjured up by spell and pure maternal desire alone (for you were a fool if you believed these simple folk saw a woman, young and beautiful and alone and with her fingers in the dirt, and never called her witch). others still swear the child came from the unfolded petals of a white flower, her minute form bundled up where the pollen was meant to be. whether this gossip speaks to the audacity of the men in the telling of the lie or the stupidity of the listener for believing something so unnatural, i will let you decide. or perhaps you believe in magic. do you? i digress. so as you are learning, the first bargain is both unimportant and not. completely individual and irrevocably part of a far larger, grander whole, indistinguishable from the rest. but next comes the girl, as i promised. and she is very, very important. she is our story. she is her mother’s in full, because blood and magick are one and the same, and the farmers are right in this alone: her mother loves her as meat loves salt, as lions love flesh and blood and not cabbages, and there is no unnatural thing in this world she would not do to make her borne. she loves her from dusk to dawn and dirt to moon, and so she gives her a name stitched with irony so that the fates will not sew it into her bones: maiden. a thing from every story, a girl on every street. she names her after a concept so that she will always be real, made of life. so that the tales whose paths she walks will not decide for her. mother and maiden live in the little cottage in the wide grasslands between wicked wood and dry cropland, and in the nothingness they have everything they need. mother hunts for their supper and teaches maiden to carry a bow when it is time, and more importantly how to give thanks to the beasts they carve up on the wooden table. they collect logs for fires and till the gardens by hand, taking from the earth all that they need and never - as mother instructs - a drop more. they play games of knots and crosses in the dirt and maiden makes dramas with the figures mother whittles, and to give you the very best truth of all, they want for very little that they do not have. she learns how to be a raven (observing), a fox (clever), a rabbit (swift), a riddle (everything all at once, and only sometimes a girl) from mother and the animals both, and she walks about the meadows barefoot and learns from the trees and birds, loves them the way she never loves people only because she has not had the chance. mothers and fauna are all well and good to take lessons from, but they do make a strange girl. she tells her secrets to the bees and watches the far-off puffs of smoke from the farmlands, pretending they are streams from a dragon’s nostrils and not the warmth of a hearth with children her age sitting next to it so that she does not feel sorry for herself. to her, there are but two people: her mother, and the people she trades with. it is not so bad; they are both very good at being alone, and the people of the nearest town are even better at reminding them to stay that way. when they blow into the hamlet on the western breeze maiden makes games of hanging off porches and climbing things that should never be touched, and she laughs so freely all the other children cannot help but come out from their hiding places and join her until their fathers call them back in. not with her, they say. not that one. — but o, how sweet and precocious a child she is when the visitors come, wrists knotted behind her back and eyes tied forward as she questions their intentions and demands, as if in secondary payment, life stories as recompense for mother’s skills. how you would have loved her, i tell you, that girl with her flaxen hair and moon-eyes, tugging on sleeves and walking the verbal-stride of a child who never learned how to shrink herself — how i love her even now! and if i must tell you something else: magic is rarely courteous, and almost never consolatory. when it arrives, no matter how many pieces of furniture i have shifted in my heart to make way for a girl called maiden, it comes with no such open space in its pit. where i have crafted an open sitting parlour it has bedroom sets and wicker fruit baskets and even a few grand lamps (never mind the fact that lamps do not yet exist; in the cavity of magic, there are always lamps), and so when it arrives she feels the weight of all these things dropped upon her head. and mother, who does so well at holding her silence it resembles a newborn babe swathed in cloth, still grips the quiet as carefully as church glass - even with one arm in disuse. you know by now, of course, what has happened. it is no secret to you or i what occurred that day, as some pieces of stories swell until they brush up against the audience independent of the narrative altogether. the effect was grand even if the moment was not, for unfortunately sometimes even the greatest plot devices happen when the writer is sleeping and cannot pause to fancy it all up. one moment a hand is merely a hand passing twine and foxglove, the next it has frozen in place. it might have been a lovely image under any other circumstance: the look of a pale, slim arm grasping a hanging purple head of flowers beneath thick, glittering ice like a delicately painted carving in a snowglobe. But indeed, how the image shook them instead of the other way around. in an effort to distract her, mother peels open the earth’s secrets at the seam and lets her peek into the sticky, moist centers and slurp the knowledge for herself. she shows her how to unfold plant-magic on the large wood table and lessons her on how to use it kindly in poultices and elixirs and bunches of dried ravensmaw. she learns what is used for fresh wounds and the herbs best combined to stave off heartbreak, and they are more similar than you think. but things are, distinctly, never the same: in a house that has only ever had two voices, there arrives a great sweeping of silence. mother is far-away in a place of wondering, the spot where mothers are ought to go when considering how best to protect their child. maiden too spends time in that same seat questioning who it is that has made her and why they stole from two separate bowls of clay, though the pair never seem to sit down and share a table in that place in peace. life goes on this way, i am loathe to report, until it gets worse. there is an awful quiet that does not leave that house, suspended between the unasked questions of what to do and what am i? maiden is kept from leaving the cabin or its surrounding pasture in ever-climbing extents until she is nought but bound to them, and mother makes the trips to the farmlands for supplies alone and ushers her out of the room when clients arrive. so, here she is in full, with flaxen hair and a moon hidden underneath her tongue: clever and strange, curious and lovely, tall and just a little too spindly-boned. a raven, a fox, a rabbit, a riddle, and sometimes a girl. magic bound in bones. a shut-in who never had reason to grow a heart, but did anyway, and now she is left to the lonesome. truly, can we blame her for what she did next, for answering the door all those moons later simply because someone knocked, and letting them in without checking if their teeth were bicuspids or fangs? can we fault that lonely creature for believing she could help, and fixing the tonic herself rather than waiting for mother, as instructed? can we accuse her for what came next, the slimmest moment of ice crystals skittering across a workbench, cold little diamonds that another less-shrewd eye might have ignored, but this one picked out? and what of the day the child got lost with a thorn in its foot, how she snuck from the cabin and cooed for them till it was yanked free, the simple smoothing of her thumb over the sole leaving it smooth as milk — i ask you that, in true: what crimes would you charge her with? do you blame the tiger for its hunting? it is only following nature, after all. or do you cast your stones on the people who threw nets through the trees and called it protection, expecting not to bleed. one cannot take in a wolf and expect it to never look back at the forest, no matter how well fed it is kept. like a flower cannot choose its colour, we cannot help what we become. she could not help what she did. it was only in her nature. so like rain, like a black cloud, like bad omens, the rumours come for the maiden, the one in the meadow, the one in the little wooden hut with the strange-beautiful-alone mother. daughter is even worse than the mother, they say. i heard it was ice — no, wind — nay, she is vitalus too — they build and rise until mother-maiden can hear the gossip in the air, having travelled by raven-feather and west-wind. of course none of it is the truth, for she bares a reality that no one yet knows — something hidden away like an egg inside an egg at the deepest part of the world — but it does not matter. audiences do not look for fact, they clutch only to wickedness or sweetness, as i have already told you. mother grows panicked with hydrangeas of fear spouting out of her ears, demanding a flight to be taken, and daughter lies awake at night wondering how to do so without wings — questioning how it has come to pass that she knows the roots and berries and grass, but not the woods or how to survive in them. you know, still, what happens next. there is another knock at the door, and despite lessons learned, the maiden answers the call: and this time it is death standing there waiting. they come to an agreement. sometimes death, too, is kind. history peeks its lazy, pinned-down eyes around the corner when the maiden of this story leaves her little hovel, fingers made of revolutions and religions clinging tightly to the doorframe to watch her go. the journey is perilous and full of dark places and occasional humour, if you are interested in that kind of adventure. i will tell it another time, when the back of my tongue has been given rest. i wish i could tell you, dear reader, which sort of story this will be: drama or comedy, mask one or mask two. but i don’t know yet. we will find out together, which makes us accomplices, you and i - like colleagues. two thieves after the same jewel. i have told her story because i love her, this much you know to be true by now, because we do not let the ones we love tell war stories. which is, in essence, what every story we can ever tell is: a battle of wits, or a conflict of hearts, or the combat of self against self. there is always a fight against something. it’s the nature of humanity, to push and poke and burn. —- – and now you see what i meant at the beginning of this tale: bargain. girl. magic. all of it comes in that necessary order and none at all. bargain. it arrives first, before her birth, a rumour; at the same time, it is the last twist, the thing that brings her to this castle. girl. she is born; she exists. magic. her blood, her marrow; a complexity of sparks and hope. a beginning, a middle, an end. a circle. a moon. PLOT IDEAS: These are laid out in a potential arc/chronological order of when I see them happening, but with the exception of a few, almost any combination could work! I. SHUCKED FROM PETALS. I’d like to grow Maiden’s role as a botanist -- both in terms of having her interest in botany itself swell, and also expand this into something of an inventor or potioner function. While she’s currently making strange concoctions at the King’s request, as an inherently curious woman I see these demands as something that will spark interest in her to create on her own. While in her youth she quizzed her mother on the applications of leaves and stems, now that she has no mentor for the process, she can only question and find answers by working through the hypotheses and methods herself. II. ON THE BASIS OF MORALITY. I see very strongly Maiden descending further into the plot to assassinate Septimus and joining the group of revolters in a more tangible way. Her ability to fight and knowledge of courtly life are both lacking, but she offers a unique vantage point of visiting all manner of individuals with the perfect excuse -- their health. As she becomes more decidedly entangled in the rebellion efforts and subsequently offers up her services to them, she begins to craft salves and potions with hidden effects, used in application against those they stand against (a poultice made with an herb that lends to truth when tending to someone with information / a drought with added pollen so that a guard may sleep through their shift that night, etc). Less fleshed out, but still worth noting: if the laced salves and elixirs are a no-go, she could slide into something of a spy/informant role fairly easy. Again, she has easy access to any array of people as the castle, and can come and go from different bedsides silently -- listening in on conversations all the while. III. FASTER THAN MINE ARROW. At the behest of the revolution -- where intentions ring with righteousness yet impact may be less virtuous -- I see Maiden encouraged to embrace her Inferni powers by rebel cohorts. While it’s not a path I see her arriving at and walking on her own, as she entrenches herself in the ideals and plots of the revolution, it would still be a willingly-made choice -- albeit perhaps still a reluctant one. She far prefers to heal than harm, but as the plot to kill Septimus ripens, she would accept the notion that an offensive skill gained by her becomes a shield and sword to the cause. I interpret this as less of an embrace of violence and more an eventual acceptance of her magic in all its parts; Maiden removing her gloves and making attempts at practicing Inferni magic brings with it an acknowledgement that not only are these powers part of her but they are hers alone to control. If she can develop some mastery over them, she can use them as she sees morally right, rather than their use dictated to her by others (so she believes). I want to see her not think of her magic as an intrusion and a mystery, but rather some native at the pit of her -- like stone in a fruit. As long as it is there, one could not bite straight through her. Sub-bullet because it’s not a huge thing, but I’d love a moment where she’s practicing with the ice in the greenhouse and loses control, subsequently destroying much of the flora in there beyond salvation -- cue a sobbing Maiden. Also! Would love to use this as an excuse for the Hierophant to become a sort-of mentor for her -- a dynamic she would undoubtedly seek out and beg for if the time came. IV. WHERE TRUTHS CONFLICT. As clearly as I envision Maiden’s loyalties knotting tighter to the revolutionaries, I don’t believe her resolution is iron in every aspect. While she may agree that King Septimus needs to be removed, deciding which successor she wishes to support would be far harder. This plot could be as simple as indecision and uncertainty on Maiden’s part, or could be as complex as a more nefarious individual taking advantage of her courtly ignorance and indecisiveness by manipulating her into backing their pick for future ruler. V. THE CURE & THE RUIN. Working intimately with anything lends to cross-contamination -- including poisonous plants. My thoughts on this fork a few different ways here, albeit my personal fave is the first bullet: Through her own misinformation or inexperience, Maiden accidentally begins to poison herself through prolonged exposure to toxic flora and their materials. Seeing as she’s in the greenhouse for hours at a time nearly every day, this would lend to a good, steady incline of symptoms -- paranoia, delusion, hallucinations, etc until they potentially culminate in a kind of temporary “madness.” An individual or party on the loyalist side discovers what she is doing for the revolters, and applies the same concept -- a slow poisoning, made to look accidental by exposure to the wrong flower. This may be less likely as it might be implausible for another character to have a knowledge of botany that surpasses her own and plant something toxic in the Greenhouse without Maiden realizing, but I’m totally open to it! Similar to the last, rather than a loyalist poisoning Maiden, they find a way to access her stash of concoctions and alter them so that they harm rather than heal those she is working with. Could be particularly dramatic if she is working long-term on a member of royalty or influential revolution member -- ie. something like visiting them daily to apply salve on a new wound that needs consistent tending. VI. WHAT ARE YOU, SWEET CREATURE? Maiden’s dual powers are bound to come into public knowledge eventually, and I think there’s the opportunity for some terror and delight there. I’ve been ruminating a lot on what the hybrid of her Inferni and Vitalus powers mean -- An Inferni rarely lives past thirty, and Maiden is already twenty-five. I’ve been imagining that she has not seen or felt the costs of her power like other Inferni due to the innate nature to heal, which is undoubtedly something other Inferni would desire. Whether Maiden willingly lays herself down to experimentation in the name of aiding the Hierophant or she’s literally captured by Septimus and crew for a less careful kind of research -- I’d love to see her secret blown up and her safety compromised as a result. VII. IT HURTS TO BECOME. I have little octopus tentacles coming out of this plot because I can see multiple variations on the same idea, so -- As inspired by the “Vitalis magic often manifests itself in nobility” line from the magic page, Maiden is discovered as the descendent of a noble bloodline. This could mean her father was the bearer of a title, or that even in a Mother Gothel-esque fashion her mother took her from a family in the desire to have her own child (though I favour the former). This is less about an advancement in her social standing/hierarchy and more about playing further with the themes of birth and identity. Particularly as an individual that isn’t well-matched to courtly manner and expectations, what would it be to disturb her peculiar existence further and force her into a lifestyle she has no interest in? How does it detract from her purpose and goals? Her mother is found out as someone who previously stayed at the Temple of the Undying and departed in some form of scandal known to the High Priestess. I think this would be particularly impactful if her mother’s time there overlapped directly with the High Priestess, and their relationship marked by some form of betrayal on her mother’s end. This would make her mother a necromancer, a fact that if going from this route was certainly kept from Maiden, or we could work with the concept that perhaps she was merely an emissary there. This bullet is less formed as it would require plotting with at least one other player, but essentially it boils down to braiding the High Priestess into her backstory (or, at least, the Temple of the Undying) -- a completion of the maiden/mother/crone build, if you will. Realistically, the above could be combined -- her mother has a past tied to both the Temple of the Undying, and her father is of noble descent. Lastly, this idea could also be twisted into a falsehood/manipulation of someone from Septimus/the Loyalist side -- she does not have noble blood and/or her mother’s past is made up, but they have fed her this story(s)  in an attempt to distract/derail her from her purpose, or otherwise sway her onto the side of the Crown. VIII. THE MAIDEN IN THE TOWER. I see very clearly what Maiden could be in years time -- in the same way the King has the Tower, or perhaps even The High Priestess, I envision the capacity for Maiden to become an advisor in the arcane arts to the future ruler. This is very epilogue-esque content, the resolution to a tale long told, something far-off and subject to change depending on how the roleplay unfolds -- but if I was planning her arc from where I stand now, that would be the resolution. A femme!Merlin now in tune with her magicks, a strange figure forever working away in her greenhouse-laboratory in the highest room in the tallest tower, descending to the court only to offer counsel and smile at a few bugs… art. And maybe, just maybe, there’s even a bard out there singing about a strange moon-touched woman and her magic, who came from the Farmlands and ended up in a castle. That, I think, would make an awfully good story. CHARACTER DEATH: I’m definitely not opposed to it! If you see a plotline where her death makes sense I’m open to at least having the discussion -- it would probably depend how I’m feeling about her character development, as I do see quite clearly how far Maiden could develop with extensive, long-term rping (the Merlin-esque shit) and it’d be super cool to get there. WRITING SAMPLE SAMPLE #01. TWENTY-FIVE. CASTLE TYRHOLM, THE GREENHOUSE. Based on headcanons found in the extra section! it is the damnable wine she calls to blame for her recession from the great hall. yet still unused to its potency, it turns her stomach and her mind with it, until she is unbalanced and sure a marble placed upon the centre of her would roll only to one side, lolling comically behind her left ear. maiden swears she can hears it as she takes her leave from the night’s feast, a hideous clacking circling around her skull as she takes the steps to the greenhouse. the sound was a well accompaniment to the noise of heart against rib, that lub lub that reminisced so closely to collection of stones in a velvet satchel. how is that for an appraisal, she thinks. an inferni and a vitalus yet, and yet you cannot even hold your liquor. down below, music begins. septimus is performing one of his many wonders, conjuring up new entertainments like a foreigner’s god and his labours – things meant to fell mortal men in their spectacle. the sound, though muffled by stone, is light and deceptive with a beat kept by tambourine and wound through with panpipes. it crashes and crawls as a serpent through brush, dragging its body across the span of men’s shoulders and up the marble spires until it reaches the slender ankles of maiden high above, who slips from the darling (albeit pinching) satin slippers borrowed from the magician. o, that that song had teeth. it would sink them pit-deep into that lovely, exposed ankle. the footfalls that emerge from the far entrance are remote in distance, yet the cadence of it -- quick and spry, in the pattern of a courtly dance -- are close and recognized by ear in an instant. “your skill is in the making of noise, bard. so i would suggest --” she calls to armel with a bland hum, bent over a troop of growing windflowers as she cuts the largest at the stalk, her sharp fingernail used in place of scissors. “leaving behind these foolhardy attempts to remove sound from your being altogether.” maiden looks up then to the musician’s hiding place, half-covered as he is by bushes camellias and hanging vines. the look given beneath her brows is chiding, but it is a reproach with a single candle lit within, a glance perhaps warmed by liquor despite its meaning. “how do you always do that?” he asks, and maiden decides there is something rather feline about him as he emerges from the brush, shoulders rolling with that mandolin hoisted over one. “i didn’t say a word.” “you do not need to. your stroll speaks for you.” the air is moon-hot and the music swells below them, rising like tide to their knees, now their hips. her voice is cut-rope, one end loose in the water, and maiden lets the tide of the pull her, only one end remaining on shore. “asides…” she sighs, “you limp on the left.” “i do not.” “indeed you do. like a horse with a lame leg.” it is a full-force lie, dropped into a casket of wine and pulled out stinking, and armel catches her half-crescent smile at the same moment he spots her bare feet. “i suppose you won’t be returning to the ball, then.” maiden turns and takes to walking the length of the greenery. her back turns to him, but not unkindly; instead her slow, graceful gait seems an invitation to join, though he does not follow. she listens to armel as she winds through the tall grass, eyes upon the stalks, searching for anything that might catch her eye. in the moonlight she is all silhouette and odd-shapes, ever and always a little too-tall, a little too sharp-boned at the joints. but when she moves like this, slow and easily-flooded as moonlight itself, one could forget all that. “dancing slippers are quite unsuitably named,” she says by way of answer as the bard begins an absent strum on his instrument. “they give me no motivation at all to partake in such merriment.” armel does not answer, instead quite pensively continuing to pluck at notes while looking at the near distance -- assumedly undergoing great internal debate as to whether or not he was, truly, a lame horse. “a peace —” she slides the long stem of a gore-red windflower behind his ear when next she passes, as natural a move as though it were but tucking a strand of her own hair behind her ear. maiden smiles. “you actually limp on the right.” //

SAMPLE #02. AGE FIFTEEN. A MOMENT OF WEAKNESS & A DESPERATE ATTEMPT. Fire, it would seem, had ceased to be a friend to her. As a girl she had delighted in it, waving her hands above it, warming herself on it, staring at every passing wooden cart laden with people in the chance that one of them could be a fire-eater. Ice, that thing that ate and yawned across lakes and thatched roofs as if it remembered it had once devoured the world, was far more cruel in Maiden’s opinion. Could I not, at least, have had that which heats and provides sustenance? And more than even these sweet instances from childhood, she knew of fire intimately as an adult. It was a different kind of flame that brewed in her than what ran free in the wild; it was less violent and more warm, meant for thawing out the cold hands of children or creating delightful ever-shifting silhouettes on walls. She walked alone because she liked it, and spoke to strangers for great lengths of time because it excited her. That was her kind of fire, and so Maiden - it could be said - was as much flame as anyone, even as she chilled the air around her with her very presence. That was why, as she sat on her knees before the great outstretching flames of the parlour’s hearth, she had no caution as she threw paper into its guts. “Enough of this!” The girl was alone, but spoke aloud: it was part of her charm. Like a girl in a folktale who was subjected to life in a tower, she existed brightly when on her own because she knew no other way. The Mallorian girl did not need the accompaniment of another to prove her own worth. The fire sputtered charmingly in response, engorging itself as it swallowed paper and turned it into little pieces of nothingness. “No more curses, no more ice or damned magic!” Her hand shakes, but her heart holds its breath and remains steady. Stained at the tips with ash and melted ink, Maiden sits back on her thighs with a great tremble and stares into the flames before she falls to the pose of prayer. “Undying God, harbinger of all things, if this is your doing, let it be undone. I have wronged you not at all, nor my mother; I am not your child. Please.” Her ears burned pink with fear for addressing a deity with the same volume she would have a man standing before her, but it was too early to stop now. She pauses momentarily, straining to listen for a rumbling voice come from within the fire or swung in on the wind and branches. There is nothing but the crackle of pop of breaking wood. “Then -- then if it is the household spirits come for me, unhappy gnomes with rumbling tummies ‘for we have not been feeding them, emerge now! Or call it all off! Call it off, I say, spirits - take this magic from me so I may live in peace!” Again, she waits. And perhaps, if you would hold your hands over the ears of your heart and allow this young woman to admit it, she might have told you that she truly expected a troll-like little fellow with a green cap and scowling mug to emerge from beneath the ottoman. But there still is nothing, not even the tap of impatient little feet from behind the curtains, and her brows furrow as she stares into the hot gold and rose colours of the fire. Maiden sighs, a heavy breath that drops out of her mouth and rolls into the soot of the hearth. She suddenly feels much too old for these follies. Looking over at the pile of hastily-written spells and official decrees of intent (from Maiden to the Undying God, officially) to rid herself of this curse, the wheat-and-snow coloured girl pauses (and it pains me to say it, dearest reader, but the truth of the matter is that in the light of this blaze, she very much resembles the beautiful women you read about who either have very tragic ends or very wonderful ones in tales you all know). She had burned not even half yet, each one a representation of a day that had been ruined by questions or cold or mother’s worry, and there were still more to go. But no sign of the Undying in her great black steed, or impish house elves crawling out from the cracks beneath the woods. For a moment, she considers stopping. She considers picking up the remainder of the letters, tying them up with some of mother’s twine, and returning them to their proper drawer in the study. But as her hand hovers of the papyrus, her heart protests and causes her to pause. She is, after all, no girl in the tower. She will not sit in anybody’s stomach and wait for the woodsman. And if, in the odd and unusual chance that this circumstance of odd and unusual proportions is caused by something otherworldly, Maiden Mallorian shall not bow to it. No, no bowing indeed. “Now listen here --” Her voice raises, grows taller and older. It might be imagination, but the fire seems to as well. “Whether you be Undying God or lowly household gnome, I shall have no more of this. Do you understand? Are you listening, creatures?” There is nothing so impressive as unafraid, youthful folly. “I shall not be carried away to a cold temple to be a child of misery, and will not let this magic ruin me if you shall not bring me answers. If one of you are indeed responsible for this, it ends now. I am Maiden Mallorian, daughter of Yareli; and a right all in my own!” The sweet curves of her breasts rise and fall like toppling empires as she throws the remainder of the pages into the fire, staring fiercely into the contents as if to decipher an answer in their ash. There is a sudden seizure in her instead, a tight and pressing thing foreign to her soft-spun body. It demands something of her, as intent as fingers pressing into her ribs. She picks up the letter opener at her side, brought from the study to slide open old envelopes, but now she raises it to her chin and cuts in one fell swoop. It does not happen with ease, but off comes a handful of her hair. The edges of her locks are jagged, but the pieces in her palm look like fine oat straw that glitter in the light. She throws that, too, into the pile, and does not realize it has chilled. “There.” She speaks. It is solid and sure and sane. “There is my tribute.” Magic cannot be made by offering someone else’s liver. You must tear out your own and never expect to get it back. “Please... take it away.” Her voice, once grand and ringing of dynasties past, now calms. She begins to sound once more like only a girl of this century. “I am… Maiden Mallorian… and I do not wish to live a life of unhappiness.” The strength that once held her shoulders aloft departs in a gentle breath, leaving her soft to touch -- quivering. “If you shall not take this from me... I will make my own way, no matter who has done this -- be it God or beast or some creature in between --” She stands, in possession of some quiet power. “One day I will find my truth. And then I will know a free heart at last.” She leaves before the paper and hair have all disappeared, trusting the fire -- that once-longtime friend, that formerly beloved and willingly indentured servant -- to do as it is meant to. As the cold evening wages on the flame starts to die, and, left unattended, everything turns to ash. All that is left in the hearth of the Mallorian home is the same colour: black. But it is not a frightening colour if you look closely. It seems, perhaps, the ink in this story is drying. It is time for a new chapter.

EXTRAS A NOTE ON ~MAGICK: I just wanted to state that while I loved imbuing her story/personality with themes of oddity and enchantment, I don’t expect any of these things to be real. Her biography was supposed to be an exaggerated verbal retelling, and in example: the rumour that Maiden’s birth was the result of not a normal conception but pure willpower and magic is just that -- hearsay crafted by unnerved townsfolk trying to justify a strange, unmarried woman in the woods and her peculiar daughter. I’m also not sure what balance you’re looking to strike between realism and fantasy, so if things like her pet owl are too much the former -- no problem!! I could definitely tone down anything you think is too out there! PINTEREST: here. MUSE TAG: here. CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS BIG AND SMALL!: Kayley (Quest for Camelot), Garrett (Quest for Camelot), Phoebe Buffay (Friends), Amalthea (The Last Unicorn), Rapunzel (Tangled), Merlin (The Sword in the Stone), Arthur (The Sword in the Stone), Taran (The Black Cauldron), Eilonwy (The Black Cauldron), Katrina van Tassel (Sleepy Hollow (1999)), Nimue/Lady of the Lake (Arthurian mythology), Honey Lemon (Big Hero 6), Vasya Petrovna (The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden), Kida (Atlantis: The Lost Empire), The Mage (King Arthur: Legend of the Sword), Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter), Thumbelina (fairytale), Circe (Circe by Madeline Miller), Yvaine (Stardust) HEADCANONS: She has a mild form of associative prosopagnosia, a type of facial blindness. While Maiden can distinguish faces from one another, it’s essentially difficult for her to recognize those she’s newly met or has not known (and subsequently seen) for a certain amount of time. As her youth in the woods meant infrequent visits from varying strangers and acquaintances, Maiden learned from a very young age to identify those she met with other signifiers -- the pitch of their voice, their cadence, the pattern of their boots on her mother’s shop’s creaky wood floor -- and she has become exceptional at it. While she may struggle to associate new faces with names, if she has heard your voice or the template of your gait, it is likely she can recognize you from the sound of these alone in the next room. Contingent on the above, I like to picture a longstanding game between Armel and Maiden with him attempting to sneak up on her, trying to outdo her hearing abilities only to be smoothly called out each time -- like the first twenty seconds of this scene from Tarzan. -- And obviously this was inspo for one of my writing samples! Major sweet tooth, and most likely has a standing relationship with The Hanged Man who provides her with desserts in exchange for tonics or pouches of seasoning curated from Maiden’s personal collection up in the greenhouse. Alternatively, she’s The Hanged Man’s personal Garfield, constantly being chased out of the kitchen before she can stick a finger in icing or steal a hot bun. Another Armel headcanon because I’m a sucker for a Found Sibling dynamic: Maiden has been teasing him for ages with the concept of knowing (and withholding) an Epic Folksong that her mother taught her and that would be just perfect for him to perform. There’s every likelihood that there is no song and she’s made it up to amuse herself, but every once and a while she hums a foreign tune or drops a few words from the “lyrics” to keep him interested. If it is a real song, bonus points if she’s making Armel do little chores etc to earn another piece of the song. Subject to plotting with Death’s player, I imagine her nickname/alias Triss was borne from a singular moment where they introduced her to someone within the castle upon arrival -- only to bluster that she used that strange name, Maiden, which confused the third party. Death makes a quick save by adding that “she means only that she is a maiden from the Farmlands,” and creating the assumed name on the spot, forcing Maiden to adopt it. Both due to falling asleep atop a text after extensive nights reading and researching and the comfort of being around plants, Maiden often sleeps in the greenhouse -- in fact, she prefers it to the cramped quarters she’s been given, and keeps a spare blanket there at all times. In the greenhouse has also come into residence a fat, one-eyed grey cat who she has named Augrunn, known affectionately (or otherwise) Auggie. Grumpy and demanding, Maiden found him taking shelter in the greenhouse on a particularly rainy day, and though he comes and goes as he pleases, it’s now effectively his home. Auggie is known to both yowl for personal space if you’re too close and swipe if you stop petting him too early. Similarly, Maiden has an owl-friend whose name I haven’t decided on, but the front-runner is currently Archimedes. Unbothered by Augrunn’s attempts to snatch him out of the air, he’s a chill little feather-loaf that watches the comings and goings of the greenhouse from the carved wood perch she has made him. He is aware of the location of Maiden’s sleeping quarters, and can occasionally be found sitting on her windowsill when she’s there. She bruises very easily, even in circumstances unrelated to use of her Inferni magic -- just as likely to get a mark from walking into a corner as she is to scar from the use of her ice powers. Insects don’t bother her in the slightest. Growing up in a small home filled with plants, there were always bugs crawling around the flora, and Maiden appreciates them all. She will 100% pick up the scary spider you’re flinching from and make sure they get back to their web. Prefers to be barefoot, and likely does not share the same feelings of taboo around exposed skin as most others -- to her, flesh is only flesh, and a very natural thing at that. Temperature is a funny thing for her -- given that she seems to emanate a kind of cold, I think it stands to reason that she doesn’t easily chill, but that it is also hard to heat her up. I picture it like a normal hand held above a flame, then one stuck in the snow -- it’s going to take longer for her to melt before she feels any pain from the fire. CONNECTIONS: *Obligatory these are just ideas and I’m totally open when it comes time to plotting with these players! THE HIEROPHANT: Chihiro and Haku vibes (that sort-of-romance entirely unnecessary, though I would be down for Maiden to have a little crush), basically. Give me a Maiden as impressed by their showy nature as their inner fire to overthrow Septimus -- an Inferni mentor, even, or just an individual that helps guide her through the dangers of Tyrholm’s court. Also… ice and fire... I meant to do more but ran out of time rip

[vieuxnoyesrp]

  ⚜  One year since the inception of Vieux Noyés RP!  ⚜

In honor of a year of creativity, inspiration, and much, much love, we’d like to share with you a glimpse at how much VN has meant to us in the past year. Where we were then, and how far we’ve come, all thanks to you. ♥

- Rose -

To me, VN is the definition of a labour of love. First, it was a love of these characters and a desire to see them explored in a more intimate and, in my opinion, authentic way. To see them develop to their full potential without the hindrance of time, commercial appeal or tv budgets. At the same time it was a love of collaboration with the two beautiful and incredibly talented women I have at my side; Kailey and Rimsha. They were the ones who inspired me to pursue this idea, who told me that I could, even when I doubted it. Without them; without Kailey’s enthusiastic push and overconfidence in me, without Rimsha’s affectionate cheerleading, VN may very well not have happened. 

It wasn’t always smooth sailing though; VN came with a lot of hard work (both collaborative and independent), endless brainstorming sessions, and the occasional heated passionate debate - just to keep things interesting. Throughout easy days and not-so-easy days, we’ve stuck it out as a team. I have so much trust and respect for these ladies that I could go on for pages. But suffice it to say, given the chance to do it all again, I couldn’t and wouldn’t have chosen a more trusted team by my side.

Last but not least, VN to me, became a deep fondness and love for the roleplayers we’ve been fortunate enough to attract. Every day I read the dash and am awed to have such extraordinary talent in our group. I check into the OOC after a long day at work - and it feels like coming home. You support one another, laugh together, and pick each other up on the rough days. This, to me, is undoubtedly the best thing about VN. And I am so humbled and so grateful to each and every one of you for joining and bolstering this dream.

A year ago, I was coming out of a difficult period in my life. I had recently lost my grandmother, I was struggling with a job I disliked, and I was studying for take-two of the MCAT/medical school entry exam (0/10 would not recommend, would not do again). I was down on my self-esteem, uncertain of my future, and kept joking about how I’d hit a ’Quarter Life Crisis’. A year since, and I’m in a much happier place; accepted into medical school, content with the present and yet looking forward to the future. So many of you have helped support me through this process and encouraged me through the crappy days. Thank you. Thanks so much to each and every one of you for making the dream a reality and joining us on this wild ride! Here’s to many more anniversaries to come! Laissez les bons temps rouler! ♥ ⚜

Also if you read all this you’re a champ. You go, Glen Coco

- Rimsha -

It’s hard to believe that we’ve come full circle. I remember well how and when the idea of VN was conceived. A brilliant idea that bloomed in Rose’s mind and one for which she had a lot of devotion and determination to see it realized. Like Rose, I too was going through a bit of a rough patch in life at the time -- turmoil on the career and Academic front, even within my family unit. Once VN had taken flight, it had fueled me to spend time plotting, planning, tinkering and helping bring it to life. A place that would house our muses for the supernatural, TO, and TVD character portrayals. But boy has it turned out to be so much more than that. I think it's safe to say that it's has exceeded our expectations, and then some.

It has been an honour being on the admin team of this roleplay, an honour to meet and interact with such a talented roster of writers who’ve brought so much enthusiasm. The part that particularly makes me proud is that we've been able to build a community, nay, a family. It's an environment where everyone truly shares ideas, moments, and most importantly supports one another. I cannot count the amount of times we’ve practically gushed on our admin chat about how it makes our hearts swell to see all of your reaching out to one another. I love how literally everyone has taken to the "no one gets left behind " mentality that we advocated from the very beginning. Thank you so much guys for all that you do, and please keep up that stellar streak. You’ve played an immense role in helping VN come this far. 

Unlike my two kick-ass admins, this was my first shot at admining. But I can definitely say that I’ve learned a whole lot from them over the course of this year. I think both Kailey and Rose deserve a hell of a lot of credit for all the time and effort they’ve put into this roleplay, for remaining so determined, for being there to restore my own drive, and also for being a bottomless pool of inspiration. To you both, I just wanna say, thank you for including me in your vision, for guiding me, and showing me the ropes. I’m honoured to work along side the two of you. And cannot wait to hatch more great plans with you. 

But while we’ve come this far, this is still only the beginning. So here’s to making many more memories. Stay awesome VN Fam! <3

- Kailey - 

It’s hard for me to think back to this time last year, to remember what a different person I was, how different my life was from where I am now. A year ago, I was finishing off my first year of grad school, the year I thought would for sure be the hardest year of my life wrong. My baby, my dream, Lifelines RP, had died, and with it, it had felt like I had lost all of my creative movement. Any desire to write had been drained from me in a lethal combination of literary grief and end-of-term papers. And then came VN. 

I’ve been known for being a bit overenthusiastic when I’ve got a plot rolling through my mind, and the minute the idea of VN was put before me, well I have to admit I was relentless, obsessed, inspired. I maybe bullied Rose into believing she could do this, and I don’t regret it for a single moment. Between the three of us, with Rose’s unending patience and passion, Rimsha’s incredible talent for world-building, and my dogged bites at their heels, VN was born. VN became beautiful, right in front of our eyes. We were so nervous, to tell you guys the truth. There was so much we could, and did, get wrong on the way here. But we stuck it out, and then, came you. 

We had hoped that our OOC would be a comfortable place, where people felt free to chat and share about themselves, where they felt like they had friends to talk to. But this? You guys have blown us away. You’ve opened your hearts to us, and you’ve jumped full-throttle onto our crazy train, and taken us places we had never even hoped we could go. VN’s become my life, my hobby, my work, my pride. My supervisor wants to join, guys. I kid you not. VN’s become my second family, something I had no idea how much I would need this year. 

I haven’t been around as often as I’d like to be, but I’m with you all every day, marveling in the beauty of the space and the stories we share. A year ago, Rose lost her grandmother, and we didn’t have VN yet. With how devastated she was, I wasn’t sure we’d ever write together again. In its infinite cruelty, I’m on my way home tomorrow, to (hopefully) see my grandpa one more time before he passes. I’m not okay, to be honest, but I know I’ll have my family, both of them, with me the whole time. I can’t tell you how much you all mean to me, and how closely I carry you to my heart each and every single day. 

                With love from our hearts to yours, may we write many more stories together,                                                     your admins ♥ 

                       ⚜  Laissez les bons temps rouler! ⚜

[carina-debayle]

De’bayle Reunion: Return of Astrelle | Part II

Log Date: 3/10/17

OOC Note: The text in these logs are strictly for the readers enjoyment. Anyone using the knowledge displayed within this text without the participants knowledge risks the potential of blacklisting from future communication and roleplay. Please do not meta-game!

Tags: @pain-and-pistolet

Hestia and I woke early per usual, she typically liked to spend time with me in the morning before I sent her on her way for classes. Though I’d say this time, it was perhaps on the more odd side, considering she had gotten to rest with her newly found Aunt. Perhaps it was strange due to the fact the girl had successfully managed to not wake the Elezen woman. Either way, I figured a good enough awakening as any for family was always a good breakfast. And I knew just the food to make…

Astrelle De'bayle awakens after a long, restful sleep. It felt like one of the best rests she’d had in many turns; peering about and blinking at the foreign room, it took her a moment to remember where she was. She rolled from bed and stepped into the hallway, straightening her messy hair and glancing at both Carina and Hestia. “Hello,” she mutters in a soft, tired voice.

Carina De'bayle glanced up from the table, on it was a plate of waffles covered in peaches and special kind of syrup. “Good morning Astrelle! Did you rest well, I hope Hestia’s bed wasn’t too small for you, we made sure she had a big one for when guests were over as well.”

Hestia De'bayle: “Morning Anty!”

Astrelle De'bayle subtly waves a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Morning Hestia,” she replies as that same smile creeps along her lips in disbelief; pride and joy glimmering in her still groggy eyes. She looks back to Carina. “Ah, are you having breakfast? And where is Armont?”

Carina De'bayle: “Armont leaves rather early for his patrols unfortunately. He had considered waking you to say goodbye, but you were sleeping so soundly with little Hestia. He didn’t want to disturb you if you were tired. Are you hungry? I was just fixing Hestia up some food before she got going to her class.”

Astrelle De'bayle nods. “Quite so,” she admits while moving around the table to seat herself, a hand gripping Hestia’s shoulder gently as she passes by. “What classes do you go to, Hestia?” she inquires with a bright smile.

Carina De'bayle nods, grabbing Astrelle a plate as she scooped up three of the waffles, placing them over a place and lathering them with her peach syrup. Putting the plate before the Elezen, Carina glanced up to her, “anything to drink? We have water, milk, juice…”

Astrelle De'bayle offers a small nod of thanks. “Rolanberry juice, if you’ve got it. Thank you.”

Hestia De'bayle: “I go to uhhmm… Acorn Orchards!!” she pronounces correctly for once, exhaling out of her nostrils with a flare of triumph. “We play on the playground and my friend  Blaise. You know he was a big meany to me until Papa scared him into crying,” she nods, “now he likes to play with me, come over and play with Tomtom. We draw and write. Do you like writing!?”

Carina De'bayle reaches for the pot of juice at the center of the table, pouring her a glass to offer beside her plate. After all was done, she slid the woman over some utensils before sitting down herself to feast.

Astrelle De'bayle chuckles softly as she listens in interest to her niece. “Oh? I am glad Armont scared him for you - no one should be a ‘meany’ to my niece.” She reaches for a fork and knife, her gaze never leaving the child. “Writing is nice, aye. What do you and Blaise write, Hestia?” She gives a silent nod of thanks once again to Carina before beginning to cut into the waffles.

Hestia De'bayle: “Mm… well Blaise wrote me something mushy  and gross after Papa scared him and I told him that mushy stuff was weird!” she huffs, poking a fork into her waffles to take a big bite, “I like to write about Tomtom and Big Eyes adventures. They’re my friends!”

Astrelle De'bayle: “Mushy?” Astrelle shakes her head with a laugh. “Blaise is much too young for such writing; I am glad that you, at least, are smart enough to see that.” She shovels some food into her mouth, washing her first few bites down with juice. “You like to write about adventures? Then perhaps you’d like to read my journal - I kept it for all of my adventures.”

Hestia De'bayle: “He said his Mommy told him to write that for someone he likes. I don’t really think he ah… I don’t think really knows what it means,” she shakes her head, “I don’t like anyone like that! I just want to go on adventures…” Hestia’s ruby-hued eyes practically sparkled as she looked toward her Aunt, “your adventures! I wanna see!”

Astrelle De'bayle places her fork and knife down on the plate after a few more bites, flashing her niece a playful grin. “In time, Hestia. Sadly, most of my effects are not on me - I had to leave them in Thavnair. Do you know what Thavnair is?”

Hestia De'bayle: “Aww…” she pouts out, slumping back against the chair where she stood. “Thav..nare? No… what is it!”

Astrelle De'bayle: “An island nation very far from here. It is /very/ hot, with a lot of sand.” The Elezen’s smile widens, “I will tell you about all my adventures soon though, before the journal is returned. I promise.”

Astrelle De'bayle: “Ah.. Carina, was it? The food is quite delicious, thank you.”

Hestia De'bayle: “Okkaaay! I am excited to hear. Thavenare. Maybe Blaise knows about it… hopefully he’s done moping like a big butt today!” she humphs, stabbing a fork into anther part of her waffles to scarf into her mouth.

Astrelle De'bayle snickers at her niece. “Tell him I can regale him with some tales of heroism as well if he doesn’t mope today. Alright?”

Carina De'bayle: “Oh thank you! My peach waffles are a favourite of Hestia’s. I figured with us having a guest over that I could make them today,” she smiles over to her daughter, her eyes rolling some at the girls huffiness toward her friend who obviously liked her.

Hestia De'bayle: “I am sure he will be excited! Blaise’s Mommy likes poems and fancy stuff, but Blaise likes adventure like me!”

Astrelle De'bayle takes a swig from her juice before replying to both in turn. “I can see why,” she tells Carina with a small smile, turning again to Hestia. “His mother enjoys poetry? I am beginning to see something,” she laughs, “but good. Tell him to not be a 'big butt’ and he can listen too.”

Hestia De'bayle glances down to her waffles as she squats down, dragging her fork into it and tugging a giant piece to chew on, some syrup lathering itself all over her face.

Astrelle De'bayle slowly lifts a brow at the child’s display. She makes no mention or attempt of calling it out, looking instead to Carina expectantly while taking a final pull of her juice.

Carina De'bayle swallows down a piece of her own waffle, trying hard to not eat like a slob like she typically did. Hopefully it wasn’t too obvious where Hestia got her table manners from, “have you been to the Shroud too often? I know it is close to Coerthas and all, but it sounds as though you’ve travelled quite far from this region?” she offers a weak smile as she glances over to Hestia. Knowing full well the girl would call her out as well if she were to make a comment.

Astrelle De'bayle: “I have not,” she replies with a shake of her head. “I passed through only very briefly many, many turns ago.” She finishes her food, a smirk of superiority on her face as she drops the fork and knife onto the empty plate with not a drop on her face – whether it was a challenge or not seemed uncertain. “I spent most of my time outside of Aldenard.”

Carina De'bayle: “I see… I’d imagine you must not have thought too much of it considering it looked so similar to Coerthas at the time. Have you yet to see it with it’s eternal winter?”

Astrelle De'bayle gives a firm nod. She reaches into her blouse and produces a handkerchief; a bit torn and obviously old, but useable and drops it near Hestia with a smile. “You have syrup on your face, dear.” She turns again to Carina. “I have not yet seen it as such, though Denz did make mention. I will have to travel into Ishgard proper and see what has become of what I once called home.”

Hestia De'bayle looks up with a messy stare, down at the handkerchief. Placing her fork down, she picked up the cloth to stare at it before glancing over to her mother, “Mommy! You have no food on your mouth today! I am proud of you!” she smiles out genuinely, bringing it to wipe her face off with very little grace.

Carina De'bayle looks over to Hestia with a quick glance, her cheeks reddening some, “well Hestia, that’s because I try not to eat messy in front of guests. You should do the same,” she huffs a bit, looking back over to Astrelle with a flustered expression, “I was talked to with a friend about going there to visit the Cathedral. A real visit that is, with the ah… intention of worship I suppose. It is a new ideal to me, but perhaps we can plan that sooner rather than later.”

Astrelle De'bayle glances between mother and child with a passive expression, her smile light and small – it betrays no emotion that she may be feeling but certainly looks a bit haughty. “It is quite alright,” she laughs at the girl’s antics. “She is my family… as are you; feel comfortable to be who you are. You go to praise Halone? Very well; if you would have me, I may be interested in attending as well. You’ve no need to stay with me as I explore, of course. I have a tendency to… wander.” The statement is spoken ironically and a grin flashes across her lips.

Carina De'bayle: “I think that much has been noted with your ventures!” she laughs some, bringing a hand to scratch at her scarred cheek. “Mmm, I had best get Hestia to her class. You are free to come and go as you wish though while you are staying here with us. Our home is yours,” she nods, reaching for a nearby napkin as she took her daughter’s little hands to begin wiping her down, her mushing the girl’s face as she rubbed the cloth against it.

Hestia De'bayle: “Mooommy…” she whined out, closing her eyes tight.

Astrelle De'bayle graces them with an approving smile. “I plan on heading into the city - I’m afraid all I have to wear is this and..” she glances down at herself with a frown, “while I am no stranger to wearing the same outfit for moons at a time, it is unbecoming and if I have the option to, I’d rather avoid it. Is Hestia’s school within Gridania?”

Carina De'bayle: “I understand completely. I would offer you some of my clothes to wear, but I fear we have a bit of a size difference. Most of my clothes may be too short for you…” she laughs lightly, “yes it is, would you like to accompany us there?”

Astrelle De'bayle gives a nod. “Certainly. I would get lost without a guide to the city and I’ve only just reunited with my family.” She chuckles, pushing her chair back and rising from her seat. “Allow me a moment and I shall join you.”

Carina De'bayle: “Yes, I need to change myself,” she glances down at her moogle slippers before swiftly moving to her room to dress. Carina returned out, her sleepy behemoth now at her heel with a grumpy expression per usual. “I will clean this mess when I return, shall we?”

Astrelle De'bayle offers Carina a smile before her eyes fall to the purple beast. She eyes it curiously. “Of course,” she nods, smiling.

Carina led the party on a ferry to Gridania, eventually leading them through the city to the location of Hestia’s class. “Here you are dear. Remember to treat your friends how you want to be treated, and no more slapping people please… not matter how 'dumb’ they are being.”

Hestia De'bayle: “I know Mommy. I made the last person cry when I slapped them… it made me sad.”

Astrelle watches the interaction from a few fulms away, arms crossed beneath her modest bust. She smiles endearingly at her niece’s words. “Have a good day in class, Hestia,” she offers.

“Thank you Anty! I will see you when I am done! I can’t wait to tell everyone I have an Anty!” she wobbles around on her feet excitingly, before turning around to run off.

Carina De’bayle:“Hestia is a good girl. I fear her mother and father’s way of handling disagreements has rubbed off on her some.” The woman sighs, shaking her head, “to the market boards then?”

Astrelle watches the girl run off before shifting her gaze to Carina. A soft, appraising look crosses her visage as she studies the woman and listens to her words. “It is much better than losing the disagreement,” she returns, plucking her cap from her head to tuck some hair behind her ear. “Yes. Please, lead on.”

Carina De'bayle: “This can be true. Armont and I spar quite frequently, but if you were to ask the brothers as a whole who tends to be the victor… they always seem quite fearful of me for whatever reason,” she laughs, “it is not as though I’ve ever killed any of them! I mean… the last thing was Armont breaking an arm,” she taps a finger to her lip, “I suppose I should watch my strength more,” she murmurs to herself, leading the Elezen with her.

Astrelle lifts a brow at that but gives no response on the matter, choosing to keep it in mind instead. “It is strange to think them all fighters. Perhaps we may all test our steel against another.”

Carina De'bayle: “Are you a fighter as well? They never described you as one, but I suppose eight turns is quite a bit of time for a person to pick up arms. I included.”

Astrelle De'bayle: “I have some training,” she mutters modestly, looking about at all the stalls.

Carina leads Astrelle about, stopping in front of the clothier stall,“This is the tailor. You’ll be finding most clothing from him.”

Astrelle gives the man a nod while perusing his wares, teeth sinking into her lip. She begins to inquire about each item’s price and attempts bartering for every single one; even Lalafell-sized ones. “How 'bout three-hundred gil, aye? Final offer.” She crosses her arms and stares the man down before he seemingly relents, accepting her small gilpouch in exchange for a handful of clothing items. She turns to Carina with a smirk. “Any place to change?”

Raising a brow at the woman haggling skills, Carina could hardly hide her impressed expression, “a place to change… there is a back room around here somewhere… ah, this should work.” She leads Astrelle over to a door.

Astrelle follows behind Carina, stepping into the door and closing it. She’s gone for only a few moments before reappearing in loose-fitting clothes, but they are clean and that is all that seems to matter to Astrelle. She gives a sigh and cranes her neck, an audible pop sounding from the movement. “Much better. Thank you.”

Carina De'bayle:  "A good choice! You like the free spirit look, a different approach from your brothers who wear nothing but armour every place they step. How refreshing.“

Astrelle De'bayle: "The free spirit look?” she echoes with a gentle laugh. “I suppose habit is a hard thing to break; my time on the sea and in Thavnair have produced in me a love of 'comfort’.”

Carina De'bayle: “I am quite a fan of comfort myself, but often times nobility does not ask for such… so I have begun dressing less for comfort and more for status. Well… the sake of Armonts status. Denz did share with you our affairs now, yes? With the De'bayles running a Minor House under Fortemps?”

Astrelle’s brows raise somewhat in awe. “I’m afraid Denzel was never the most informative of us, though I do owe him credit for filling me in on most of Ishgard’s current affairs and policy changes.” She runs a hand along her arm and produces a thoughtful note. “Minor House under Fortremps? How interesting. I had no idea. I am beginning to feel already as if I must change into something more befitting of such a status as well,” she admits with a gentle laugh.

Carina De'bayle: “Quite so, Armont and I are the leaders at its head. Though we do still lack an established house here, physical and able to be lived in, it will come in time.” Carina shakes her head gently, motioning a hand down at her own attire, “despite our status, we are free to wear what we wish.  It is really for any special events or when making a trip to Ishgard. I would hardly dress like this there, lest I wish to be mistaken for living in the Brume.”

Astrelle De'bayle: “Armont as head of House?” She shakes her head, the same pride-filled smile that had touched her lips so many times last night returning. “I truly have been gone for far too long. Pray, tell me Carina: how has he fared all these turns? I am to assume you have been with him for quite some time, given Hestia’s age – if I am to assume it correctly.”

“Ah…” Carina twists her lip some, considering this, “for some time. We have been together. For a great deal of time, Armont was missing as well, have gone to fight the Dravanian horde on his own. It was Denz, myself and his  partner Jancis that found the eldest roaming around the tundra of Coerthas. Him and I only grew closer and closer from then. He has greatly matured in his time being a Count… and I have learned so much about myself and how to lead, from being the Countess at his side.”

Astrelle De'bayle: “This pleases me to hear,” she nods, hands coming together gently in front of her. “It is also relieving to hear that I am not the only one who was absent for a time, though I fear it has taken me longest to return of the family. All that besides,” she waves a hand in the air, “it is good to speak with you and know that my brother has taken charge as Count with such a worthy Countess.”

Chuckling out ,Carina brought a hand to rub at the back of her neck, “you flatter me so… but I am glad this news makes you happy. I hope it was not meant to come as any surprise, as you are just as able to be a part of our House as any of the other brothers are. Denz is a Viscount, Guillemont a Baron along with Hestia being a Baroness. If you wished to be apart of us, to share in responsibility of your family, you are welcome to. The position of Viscountess would be offered to you, as you are in line for being head, technically before Denz. If such a responsibility disinterests you, there is Baroness. They are not given any less responsibility by any means, but aren’t expected to be next head in line. Least not right away.”

The Elezen woman brings a hand to cover a yawn, apparently still feeling somewhat groggy from her long, much-needed rest. She replaces her cap and takes the small bag of various clothing in hand, fixing Carina with a long stare. “I wouldn’t wish to relieve my niece of her title,” she smirks, “but I shall consider the offer all the same. We may have to discuss a bit more before I can settle on a decision; perhaps over a table and with Armont present?”

Carina De'bayle: “You would hardly do such, it is a shared title of course,” Carina laughs, “that would probably be best. At least this gives you time to think on it, I am sure Armont will be pleased to hear your desire for involvement within the family to that degree.”

Astrelle De'bayle: “I admit, I am already somewhat in agreement of it partly due to guilt for being away so long,” she admits, her voice and expression light but there is a subtle undertone of honesty to it. “Ah.. shall we move elsewhere to speak, however? I wish to be caught up on current events regarding Eorzea proper, now that I have knowledge of Ishgard.”

Carina De'bayle:“By all means, how about the tavern?”

Astrelle De'bayle:“Lead on.”

Carina led the two back into the main sector of New Gridania, leading them to the tavern before sitting down at a table farther toward the window. “Well… was there anything else you wished for me to catch you up to speed on?”

The Elezen settles in with a cursory look over the tavern. “There are a few friends I made during my time away I wish to connect with - I know that they were headed for Aldenard, so my first question will be about them instead of Eorzea proper: heard you any stories of pirates, ex-Garleans, or Xaela? More specifically, as I know that is quite a bit vague, any of them all traveling 'together’.”

Carina De'bayle: “Stories of them travelling together? I am afraid not… but I can’t imagine such leaving a good impact on this family. I have a rather large disdain for… Garleans myself,” she takes a long breath, “and as for Xaela. A member of our House was assaulted by one recently. The woman Guillemont fancies to be exact. Claiming to take his anger out on behalf of his people. I can not say I have heard any tales, no, though our thoughts on them are not very positive, so we may have chosen to simply not listen as well. As for pirates, I am indifferent.”

Astrelle considers the woman, mulling over her words before blowing a huff through her nostrils. “Right,” she mutters, turning her gaze away. “Then I shall refrain from asking any of them.” She clears her throat and reaches up to rub at the back of her neck in a very Guillemont-like fashion. “Ah.. she is well, however? The woman that my twin fancies.. I forget her name.”

Carina De'bayle: “Claire. She… she could be worse I suppose. It was quite the awful experience for her,” Carina exhales heavily, running a hand through her blonde hair, “Unlike the brothers, I am far less inclined to racial tensions… but I can’t help but feel some anger due to these events. The Xaela have a past of barbaric nature, and while I have certainly put that off before, recent events have made me far more wary than ever. It is unfortunate… but as a mother, it cannot be helped. The threats that man made to our family and friends are indescribable and disgusting. Here is hoping your friend proves different,” Carina nods.

Astrelle De'bayle: “So do some of the Seeker of the Sun tribes and Keeper of the Moon clans,” she nods sagely. “A few of the Duskwights still hold fast to their savage ways as well, hiding out in caves and such.” Astrelle removes her hat and runs a hand through her now flat hair, sighing out softly. “The Xaela consists of various tribes; an eclectic peoples with some that are honor-bound and others that..” she darkens and shakes her head. “I am sorry to hear of, uh, Claire’s experience. If there is anything that can be done, I would hear of it.” She gives a firm nod and tilts her head back to peer at the ceiling. “A few Xaela tribesmen saved my life while I spent time in Othard.. but I am do not wish to defend the actions of a single man nor regale such a tale just now. I am unsure if the few I know would come to Eorzea even made it alive.” The final statement is said somberly but her expression remains placid. “What of the beast tribes? The last time I passed through these cities, they were still allowed inside; however, I have noticed an absence of any of them.”

Carina De'bayle: “Quite so, the brothers are very distrusting of the Miqo'te… in truth, they are very distrusting of many different from them, but they have made great strides of change to their thoughts. While many of their beliefs I can find to be irrational, some I cannot blame them for,” Carina nods to Astrelle as she explains the Xaela. “I have never ventured that far to know much of them on my own, so hopefully my thoughts can be swayed. I do not like the idea of taking people at face value. If anything more can be done about Claire, I will be sure to let you know. I hope your friends have made it with their lives… I know as well as anyone, that despite these tensions, not every apple within the basket is rotten. Beast tribe members are allowed within the city walls, but due to tensions from opposing factions, their interactions are limited I’m sure due to precaution. There is a lot that must go into building trust.”

Astrelle De'bayle gives a long, thoughtful hum. Allowing the discussion of Xaela to be dropped for now, she inhales deeply before she sets her jaw firmly. “Aye.. that I know of trust very well. Denz has told me that Ishgard now is open to others and has even joined in with the city-states of Eorzea.. he speaks of a conflict with the Garleans? While I do not hold them in high regard, I had–until very recently–little reason to despise them as so many seem to do here.”

The Hyur’s expression turns grim and dark, her brown eyes dropping to the table. “There are none that hold a light to the hatred in my heart toward those… creatures. Even that sounds like a compliment when looking at their actions!” Carina remarks out quietly, her fists clenched, “yes… the Garleans hold control over Ala Mhigo… and as of late, there seems to be the proddings of war at our front steps. We are ready to take up arms when necessary.”

Astrelle De'bayle: “Yes.. Ala Mhigo was impossible to enter when I attempted to do so,” she remarks, her mouth contorting into a pensive frown. That had been so /long/ ago now. “So the Garleans wish to step further into Eorzea? If I recall, then would that not place them considerably close to here in the Shroud?”

Carina De'bayle: “It would place them directly in the Shroud. All that keeps them from us is a wall… that in which was prodded by the Ala Mhigan resistance themselves! Denz’s partner Jancis was injured in her participation of defense. The thought of losing another loved one to those menaces… does much to get my blood boiling.”

Astrelle De'bayle:Conflicting emotions bubbled up under Astrelle’s exterior; she managed a sympathetic frown. “I do not believe I met her- she was not there last night, aye? I met only, um.. Claire, and… the lady Knight from the looks of it.” She rolls a shoulder in its socket before heaving out a sigh. “I’m to trust that this Jancis is doing well? It is a shame that my brothers’ partners and romantic interests seem to have rather unfortunate fates so far.”

Carina De'bayle: “She has been making a swift recovering thankfully… I have been sure to give her many potions to treat for pain, amongst other things. Their fates…” Carina sighs, “only further push them to grow stronger. Our pain and suffering, each stumble, makes us into a stronger person in the end,” the Hyur brings a hand up to touch her scarred cheek, lost in thought a moment. “Jancis wasn’t there no… not that night. ”

Astrelle De'bayle: “You are an alchemist?” she pipes up with a look of interest. “If you are, I shall have to inform you of a few things of Radz-at-Han; they are known for their materials in alchemy, as I’m sure you no doubt are aware of.” The Elezen brings a calloused hand to brush absently at her hair, “I am glad to hear, at least, that my brothers’ take interest in sturdy women. If this conflict comes to a head, I am to assume the house will participate?”

Carina De'bayle: “Yes, I had always wished to visit there myself to learn of their alchemic dealings, but I fear until this point I was rather poor and on my own. I am an alchemist and a Beastmaster,” her eyes glance down to the beast at her side, “forgive me for not introducing you two sooner, this is Joseph, my partner in combat and friend,” letting out a slightly dry chuckle, Carina can’t help but simply shrug, “in this day and age, it is best to know how to take a punch. As much as I would love to avoid the conflict to the east, we would participate if it came to that. The Shroud is our home, and it borders Ishgard, Armont views our House as a secondary line of defense. The wall of protection between his home and outside danger.”

Astrelle De'bayle: “My brothers in battle,” she murmurs idly. A long exhale escapes her, a forlorn look flashing across her expression at the thought. She doesn’t take much notice of Josep besides the initial introduction, giving only a brief look in his direction. “Aye.. it is best to know how to be dealt with the damage, and if necessary, return it. It is a lesson I have also learned.” Astrelle fixes Carina with a thoughtful look. “I feel I may have already reached my decision regarding joining the house officially, but I wish for my brothers to be here to accept it- at the very least, Armont as Count to know of my decision right away.”

Carina De'bayle: “Of course. While it was of his decision that we hold equal power, this also come with equal final choice. We can have a meeting with him tonight if you are available for such. What is your choice, if you do not mind my asking?”

Astrelle De'bayle: “We are stronger together,” she says. “I have been too far removed from my brothers already.. one bonded, one partnered, and one smitten – all three with lives their own and I return with experiences to share but nothing to show for it.” She reaches up to absentmindedly trace the scar over her sigil, frowning. “I will not lose my family again, nor they me. I shall stay on as Viscountess, Carina, if you and Armont would have me.”

Smiling, Carina nods, “I certainly would love another strong will behind us. I am sure your older brother will share a similar sentiment. As for the thought and feeling of gaining nothing from your ventures… you may not have returned with a loved one at your hip, but you have learned far more knowledge than any of us could have ever hoped to have dream of. That is so important, you are an important asset, Astrelle. Outside of being just our sister…” pausing, Carina rested a hand to the table, “I… I have never had a sister before. I feel so fortunate, to have been given such a large family, after losing my only brother. A blessing… it must be. I should learn to be more grateful for them, the blessings. I hope in time to find a friend in you, as I have your brothers. If you will have me, in that.”

Astrelle snorts in an almost unladylike fashion, amused by the Hyur’s compelling speech. “You are wife of my eldest brother– you are family, Carina, so long as you both are bonded together. I will respect that as it is your /choice/ to have chosen him, and he you.” She flashes Carina a smile, “And.. yes, I suppose you are right about my travels. I will happily share them all with you someday; you and my brothers. Of course, my niece as well. And.. I offer my condolences for your loss.”

Carina De'bayle: “I look forward to hearing of them… it was always a dream of mine to venture past Aldenards boarders. Perhaps it will not have to be a dream for long…” she smiles, “I have come to let go of those thorns. They pierced into my very being for the longest time… but I know Corbin would not have wanted me to inhbit my life due to him losing his own. I am amazed I can even bring myself to say such words… it used to be hard to think such sentiments.”

Astrelle De'bayle: “Time, I find, is both our greatest ally and worst enemy.” Astrelle shakes her head with a wistful sigh, retaining the somber smile plastered to her lips. “..ah, forgive the interruption for such a moment but I must ask: know you when Armont may be free? I wish to tell him myself as soon as possible.. there are things I wish to discuss with him as well regarding combat.”

Carina De'bayle: “When he returns home from his patrol. Our days differ on how we get our work done. During the days, I run the House and its functions, creating my potions for commission and train. He works alongside the Gridanian Woodwailers and Temple Knights of Ishgard for protection of the woods. Each serving our part. He will more than likely be enthused over meeting as soon as possible over this once returning home from work. You are free to wait in idle at the apartment until then, or wander the city. ”

Astrelle De'bayle gives a firm nod. “Aye.. very well. It is a shame I was forced to leave my things in Radz-at-Han; I would wish to train with you.” She sighs and shakes her head, “It is good to have some downtime from fighting, however; I will use it to reacquaint myself with Gridania first.”

Carina De'bayle: “I wield an axe, if you wish to train some with such a weapon, I am hardly against offering you one of my own. The brothers also have plenty of other weapons to offer at their disposal. Along with a minor militia and housing wards that stand behind our cause, we also teach those in our own specialization how to wield whatever weapon of their choice.”

Astrelle sizes up the Hyur with a crooked smirk. “An axe? It has been some time for me, but I have used them as well. It may be nice to get one back into my hands.” She hums in thought before declining with a shake of her head, “Perhaps next time, Carina - I fear all the turns of travel are catching up with me. I wish to stretch my legs and see Gridania for just a short while, but I shall return to the apartment forthwith. Ah.. is there any way to reach you if I have need?”

“Ah yes,” Carina reaches into her satchel, tugging out one of the many black pearls she keeps with her, handing it over to the woman. “Our House linkshell. With this, you can contact any one of us. Including others you may not have met just yet.”

Astrelle De'bayle takes it with a small nod and expertly attaches it to her ear, a small metal clasp there already to hold it in place – it looks as if it once held a previous linkpearl but it is no longer slotted there. “Excellent, thank you.” She rises from the table, replacing her cap and shooting the Hyur a smile. “Now if I to become lost, I can call for your aid.”

Laughing, Carina stood as well, it hardly making much difference compared to their heights. “Indeed. I will be back at the apartment for the time being working on some tonics. Feel free to call me whenever for whatever.”

Astrelle De'bayle gives a grand bow, sweeping an arm out with her cap held in hand before turning on her heel to explore Gridania.

While I had hoped to say that my meeting and talking with Astrelle had come to make me feel on positive or friendly terms with her, I feared there was much I still was left in the dark on. That lack of understand, made her feel enigmatic, and in a certain sense, alarming. It was a discouraging feel… but I hoped in time it would not remain.

[ultravioletsoul]

A Woman’s Duty  [ Salen Kotch x F!Reader ] - Part 1 / 2

I know I still haven’t finished the other Kotch fic, but I promise this one is complete so you won’t have to wait too much for me to get my butt in gear. I only need to revise and edit part two and hopefully we’ll have a two-shot. Clouded Judgement is still in the works, as well as several of my other projects *curls in a ball in the corner and cries*. This is what I get for writing like three different stories at the same time.

This one in particular takes place several years before the events of Infinite Warfare and Kotch is younger, of course. Either way, I hope you enjoy it orz

Thanks to Lucía and Lala for the help and support. Love ya!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Call of Duty Infinite Warfare or its characters. They all belong to Activision and Infinity Ward. No copyright infringement intended. All I’m trying to do is provide entertainment to the readers and by no means do I have lucrative purposes.

Warnings: Unbetaed work. Misogyny. Implied abuse. Squick. Cousincest (depending on your views on such relationships). Possible OoC. OCs. English isn’t my first language.

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Part I

Senet was said to be the oldest board game in the history of mankind and it was one you enjoyed playing with your father, Emin, whenever you had the chance to see him. Those moments weren’t a common occurrence, unfortunately. As a member of the High Council of the Settlement Defense Front, he was a man with many responsibilities to deal with. Nonetheless, he always made time for you in his  busy schedule and that was something that had always filled you with joy.

Despite the fact that sons were coveted and treasured over daughters— for the reason that boys were the future soldiers that would serve the regime— there was no denying Emin always had a predilection for you, out of all his children. It was no secret that your mother, one of his many concubines, had been his most beloved mistress when she was alive. Not even his lady wife had been the recipient of such open affections, but that probably was because their marriage was based on convenience rather than some sort of emotional attachment.

No one had told you much about your mother, and she had passed away when you were too young to remember. However, you had a strong suspicion that she’d been born in Earth and was brought to Mars during the Secession Wars. The fact that she had no known relatives to speak of, in a society where large families were the norm, made you consider the possibility. Not to mention the patent animosity your father’s wife seemed to have for the memory of his former lover, despite the fact she’d never been bothered by other women warming her husband’s bed.

It wouldn’t be strange if she had been a prisoner of war once, taken to this planet against her will as loot, though you had no way to confirm the veracity of this story. What you knew was that she’d caught the eye of a senior ranking officer and initiated a love affair from which you were born.

The practice of men—particularly those who held great influence and privileges— of having Earthen women as mistresses wasn’t uncommon back in the day, and it had been an inevitable outcome of the war. You’d met several of these ladies during your lifetime, and most of them had gladly accepted— or appeared to, at least— the attentions bestowed upon them but, of course, that could have been just a front. However, there were also whispers about their unhappy lives behind closed doors, which made you question yourself whether your mother had been in the same situation before. In spite of your suspicions, Emin refused to go into detail about her past and it only served to strengthen those beliefs. Still, after all these years, he lamented her demise and sought your company because of how much you reminded him of her.

While part of you longed to uncover the truth, another doubted if it was a good idea. If he kept you ignorant of it for so long, then maybe it was meant to never be disclosed. The implications of such reflections didn’t bode anything good and, to be honest, you were scared to find out what really happened to her, so you chose to believe Emin’s version— that she’d caught some sort of incurable disease and succumbed to it. At least it would be easier to stomach than the idea of her having a miserable existence because of your father’s obsession.

You threw the senet sticks and got three white sides, the number you needed to get your last pawn out of the board. With a clap of excitement, you announced, “oh, it seems victory is mine once more!”

“Well done, my kitten,” Emin commented rather amused as he eyed his many pawns that had been left behind. “You’re merciless at this game, just like your mother used to be.”

Going by the stories he shared with you, your mother had been an enthusiast of senet and played with him on numerous occasions. She was proficient and very few people could beat her. Such was her fondness for this game that Emin had gifted her a turquoise box with exquisite engravings, completed by a set of pieces carved in black sapphire and white opal— an acquisition that now belonged to you, her only daughter.

“Don’t exaggerate, dad. You’ve always given me trouble when we play, but I noticed you’ve been distracted today. Is something on your mind?”

“Perhaps,” he mumbled with a lazy smile, gazing at you with softness before taking your hand in his. “Have I told you how beautiful you’re growing each day that passes?”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you giggled in delight. “A parent always thinks their children are the most beautiful creatures in existence and you, sir, are no exception to the rule.”

“But more than sharing an opinion, I am stating a fact. You are a beautiful young lady and, though you may not have noticed, I’ve seen the longing you stir in the hearts of men— the looks they give you whenever you are with me.”

“I find that hard to believe. Who would be stupid enough to leer at the daughter of a great councilman unless they had a death wish?” you joked, resisting the urge to cackle as you put the pieces in place for another game that you’d definitely win again.

“Indeed, but you would be surprised at how daring some of them can be. After all, women are fair but dangerous creatures that can make us lose our minds if given the chance. Your mother did that to me,” he laughed, before letting go of your hand to sip at his glass of cool beverage that you’d requested to have prepared— along with other snacks to spend the evening together in the garden pond of the greenhouse. “Speaking of surprises, I have one for you but I was wondering whether I should tell you now or wait until everything is arranged.”

“Oh, what is it?” you asked excitedly, shifting to sit on your knees on the divan. “Now that you’ve spoken, you can’t leave me in suspense!”

“Ah, some things never change, do they? But sometimes it’s difficult for me to remember that you’re not that little girl with pigtails anymore, clinging to my legs and begging me to carry her in my arms.”

What was he going on about? “Dad, you’re acting strange today.”

“My dear, you know there comes a time when a father knows he needs to let his children walk their own path in life. Your brothers have already followed in my steps and swore to serve and protect our home with their lives, if necessary. I have no worries about them as they can fend for themselves, but for a woman the reality is different. She has no one else to care for her other than her parents or her husband, and that is where the deepest concern for me lies.” Suddenly, everything started to make sense and you were aware of where this conversation was heading. You weren’t sure if you’d like what he was going to say as an idea formed in the back of your mind, and you couldn’t say you were thrilled by it. “It is the duty of her parents to secure her future—”

“You mean marry her off to someone,” you blurted out and, suddenly, the amenable mood became awkward whilst your father cleared his throat.

“I won’t live forever, unfortunately. It’s imperative for me to see you well cared for while I’m still alive, so I can be at peace knowing I made the right choice. What is more, I would like to see my grandchildren— your children— running around the house,” he paused, taking notice of the displeased purse of your lips. “Why the sad face? Is it such a bad prospect for you? Any young lady would be happy to hear these news.”

Well, from what you’d seen, some of your sisters and cousins hadn’t been happy about it. Alas, in most cases their opinions weren’t taken into account, so you doubted you’d be brimming with joy when it was your turn.

“You said there was an arrangement. May I ask who do you have in mind?” The mirth in your voice had vanished despite your best efforts to sound unaffected.

“You don’t have to worry about it. I have found a suitable man for you and I trust he will take good care of my daughter.”

“Who is he?” you insisted, trying to conceal your frustration as you didn’t want to be disrespectful.

Nothing could prepare you for the shock of his revelation, however.

“Salen,” Emin said without further preamble, and all was silent as you took a moment to process what he’d told you. You blinked in confusion, and when the name finally registered in your mind it was impossible to hold back a noise of discontent or hide the dismay on your face.

“Salen?!” You couldn’t believe it. Did your father actually intend for you to marry him? To you such a union had been unthinkable and, if you were given a choice, you would never be with your cousin even if he was the last man left in the solar system.

Ever since he was a child, he’d done nothing but torment you and you couldn’t feel affection for him as a friend, let alone see him as a man and definitely not your husband. He was nothing but an arrogant youth who had always gotten on your nerves by antagonizing and making you feel you were worth nothing— mainly because your mother was an Earthen, as though his ancestry hadn’t hailed from that planet too. The fact that you’d never been keen in putting up with this  sort of behavior, and on several occasions argued with him, made his attitude much worse, as he’d always thought that being a girl meant that you had to submit to his wishes and his every whim. But you refused to be complacent with Salen and so you’d always clashed— an aggressive trait of your personality that you’d unfortunately inherited from your mother, your father’s wife had observed once. It didn’t help the fact his parents tried to make up excuses for him by saying he liked you but didn’t know how to approach you, as though such inane reasons justified his ill-mannered actions.

However, when it began to escalate into physical fights, it was decided that you should perhaps not see each other for some time since your parents didn’t want to encourage aggression between you two. As the memory played in your mind, you started to wonder if your father and his  brother hadn’t been planning this match for a long time, and whether that was the reason they insisted so much for you two to reach an understanding.

When Salen was taken away by the SDF for military service, as it was mandatory for every male scion in Mars, you couldn’t believe you’d actually been sorry to see him leave. While not much was known about what happened during the period of training and military education, except to those men who had actually gone through it, there were some shady stories that the friend of a cousin of someone else’s friend had heard. Needless to say, their nature was scary and they seemed to gain credibility when the sons of some families returned as corpses— dead by a tragic accident, the explanation went in most cases. It was disturbing to see mothers with their hearts broken as they mourned, and fathers who wouldn’t even show grief for the son they’d lost.

Something was very wrong and you’d feared for your brother, who had left almost a year ago and… even for Salen. You’d hoped that his time away would make him mature and value his family and friends more. You were willing to put differences aside, if he changed his ways and respected you more— acknowledged that he’d treated you poorly all those years.

Well, he changed but not for the better as you had expected. Instead, the flaws in his character became unbearable as he grew more unfeeling towards others and authoritarian when it came to those he considered were beneath him. What could have been the start of a friendship with him went sour, and you abandoned your efforts when you realized he still cared little about what his words and actions did to you. Whatever happened while he was away, it had most certainly affected him deep inside but you didn’t think you could ever have the chance of a heart-to-heart.

“What’s the problem?” Emin arched an eyebrow and you frowned, looking away. You’d never wanted to disobey your father but this idea was… absurd to put it lightly. What on Mars made him believe that you and his nephew would be an ideal couple?

“Father, you know Salen and I never really got along. It seemed like hate at first sight when we met and he doesn’t find me agreeable, neither do I him. I would prefer a man that’s better suited for me, if I’m to marry.”

“Nonsense, it was a silly childish spat. You know how boys tend to be, always assertive and domineering among their peers, but that’s how they are. You can’t blame him for trying to impress you, either. I’m sure he only wanted to catch the attention of the prettiest girl he’d ever seen in his life.”

“He mistreated me because he wanted to impress me? Sorry, but that’s just one big fallacy. If you like someone, you don’t treat them—”

“(Y/N)…”

“With condescension and disdain. I can’t stand his superiority complex and being in the same room as him is unbearable. I cannot imagine what an ordeal being his wife would be.”

While you’d been taught to be demure and not very outspoken in the presence of men, given that boldness was an undesired quality in a woman, Salen’s conceit and disregard for your feelings was enough to make you forget your manners. It was something that had brought trouble to you on several occasions, so you preferred to avoid him altogether.

“Salen may be rough around the edges when it comes to the ladies, and I’m aware of that, but I wouldn’t have chosen him if I wasn’t certain of what kind of man is my future son-in-law.”

“You are a crocodile…” you muttered with squinted eyes. “Don’t you feel sorry for your poor daughter?”

“You are precious to me and that is why I’m doing what I consider best. Salen will be admiral of his own fleet in a matter of years, and I have no doubts that one day he’ll be part of the High Council. He is a brilliant and capable leader with a promising future ahead. Your mother and I think he’s the best suitor for you and I won’t settle for lesser than him.”

He meant your adoptive mother— his wife, of course. To be honest, you were hardly surprised to discover she was involved in this decision. Despite what Emin would want to believe, she’d never been much fond of you and surely saw this as an opportunity to get rid of your presence in her house. You had no problems in giving her what she wanted, but she could have at least tried to persuade her husband to find you someone else.

It wasn’t her fault, however, as she had no choice but to do what you father said.

There were better options you could have considered but Emin would never allow you to choose a man of low rank, as that would be a clear disparity of social classes. Status was determined by ties and loyalties to the Front, so the higher a man was in the chain of command in the military the more prominent and influential his family became. It happened this way because your society was heavily patriarchal, and women were more or less confined to the sidelines. For those who were daughters of the council— like you— their options were very limited, and they ended up being given away in marriage to other officers in most cases. On the other hand, women that belonged to the lower classes had relatively more freedom to choose what they wanted to do, so to speak, whether it was working for an income or staying home to care for their families. They were encouraged to serve the SDF in support roles, study and get degrees, as well as develop professionally, but under no circumstances were allowed to take arms and, as far as you could remember, you’d never seen any woman occupying positions of power or being part of the High Council.

The military was most certainly a world dominated by men, but there was a good reason why the SDF wished to keep females at home. After all, it was a woman’s duty producing children for the regime and raising the soldiers of tomorrow. Considering the population of Mars was still small compared with that of Earth, it made sense they wanted to preserve their means to procreate. In this aspect, the task seemed to be of utmost importance to the SDF. Without women, there wouldn’t be anyone to give birth to the children that would add to their armed forces. In spite of this, it was a sad irony that a baby girl wasn’t received in the family with the same joy as a boy— and, sometimes, it was considered a disappointment.

“Are you listening to me?”

“He will never agree to this.” You tried to convince yourself this couldn’t be happening.

“Believe it or not he already did and, unlike you, trusted his father’s judgement. Now I do hope you see reason and accept him, too. Years ago, I promised your uncle Valeriy if your mother was expecting a girl that she’d be Salen’s wife. You don’t want to break his heart, do you? After all, you’re his favorite niece.”

He wouldn’t change his mind that easily, would he? You’d never thought Salen would accept but, according to your father, he did and it left you at a loss for words. Of course, that didn’t mean Salen had feelings for you— something you considered very unlikely and neither did you find appealing— as this had nothing to do with what both of you wanted. Despite his sisters always teased that he was interested in you in a more romantic level, you’d never wanted to believe it. They were only making fun of you because you couldn’t stand being told that you and Salen should just kiss and makeup, as though you were in an obligation to feed his ego. The nerve they had…

“I know, but…” We won’t be happy together, that was what you wanted to say but would it matter, at all? As a daughter, you had to do what your patriarch said and Salen had to do the same but, unlike you, he had a way out of an unhappy marriage. He could keep as many mistresses as he wanted, if he didn’t have them already, while you’d be expected to remain faithful to him throughout the years.

Maybe being married to a man you didn’t love would make it easier to watch him bestow his favors on other women. At least you wouldn’t be jealous of them or their children but, still, the thought that this was the kind of life you’d have to content yourself with was… depressing.

A hand caressed your cheek and you stared into Emin’s dark brown eyes, knowing you wouldn’t be able to refuse. “In time you will see I was right, my kitten.”

If only it were true.

A/N: Well, oh gosh, I’m always happy to post more works for readers to enjoy.

I tried to do a little world building with the information available in the game. Yep, the SDF military and society of Mars are dominated by men and there’s not much gender equality like in the UNSA. Have you seen the wanted board in Reyes’s quarters? The big fishes of the SDF are all men and there are no women in power.

Concubines? Well, there was one colonel who apparently had like 24 children and another councilman had 12 children, which implies their families may be large, so a good possibility is that these men (or, at least, high-ranking officers) have mistresses. The biographies also mention patriarchs.

Why do I think the SDF training is brutal and may be the cause of death of several recruits? In the wanted board we have Nicholas Rado, a SDF major, whose name seemed to appear quite a lot in the descriptions of the SDF training methods. Not much is explained in his biography, but it mentions that one of his training exercises was pushing recruits out into the vacuum of space with minimal oxygen reserves and a punctured suit. Those who failed died, of course. I’m pretty sure there are more terrible examples of these methodologies they use to ‘harden’ their draftees, who are child soldiers seeing as the age of conscription in the SDF is 12 (and it’s compulsory for all males).

Next part: [here]

[therevaliir-blog]

Announcements: 08-15-2017

Wiki Changes and Additions:

Thank you to Nadine Hydria for his work writing this piece about Lacriamium! Lacriamium: A Goddess's Tears Reborn It is now a subcat. of this new article: Materials of Revaliir I hope to get more of the materials and stories about them up on the wiki as we go!

Site Changes:

Mo'Mey Steppes has undergone changes!

-Language has been changed to Belarusian

-Capital has been renamed to Sviet

-The tribe has been renamed Adorany

-Map of Sviet has been added to the description of the area for Mo'Mey

Added Kujishoku to the Language Guide in the wiki

Redid/Better described other places with new languages / better definitions

Reuploaded the images for Stairway to the Skies and Canelux's Wings for the Wiki. You can see them again!

Changed General Discussion's overhead area to O.O.C. Pub! More fun! Links are still the same :)

Wishing Well and Wish Upon A Star now roll on Sundays

I started the x2 silver boost Area Spotlight! The first area is Baltil. These spotlights will last for 2 weeks so get your silver boost! I do have a schedule for this!

The O.O.C. Pub's description now links to the debate and game forums without using a quick link.

Tidied up the Synth/Alchemy Spreadsheet, made the link to the spreadsheet open up in a new tab!

Kirika Maze was changed to Kirika Lake since it was the bigger attraction! The description for the maze is still there :) 

Something is Happening! As the Moon Parvpora enters into its fullest state, and her sister Canelux waxes strong in the sky, an aurora spreads across the sky, originating from somewhere in the Jasumin Plains. As the green, blue and purple bands fill the sky, magical energies feel more potent, and minds feel sharper, while spells seem to have an added effect: the fading image of an ornate eye inside a triangle.

EVENT:  Sanguine Tenebris Conclusion

Many brave souls made an attempt to battle their way through the Circulorum Inferni. A select few were strong enough to make it all the way to Domus Tenebris to seek counsel with the Reaper. She heard their pleas, for it was her decision whether or not the mortals deserved her mercy. Their dedication did not go unnoticed by the Goddess - after several had successfully made their way to her, she appeared once more to the people of Adeluna. “Good people of Adeluna, it seems you have learned your lesson on this day. Let this serve as a reminder that greed is a dangerous thing, and that appearance is not always what it seems. Let this remind you that while Death may be cruel, it can also be merciful and forgiving. Write of this in your histories, and do not let it be forgotten. As for the Apothecary that brought this plight upon your town… do not fear. He serves in the deepest of my Circles now… pay him a visit if you please.” With a devilish wink, the Reaper was gone from sight.With Dalanesca’s appearance, it seemed that the effects of those under the spell of Sanguine Tenebris faded immediately, leaving many people with a loss of time and memory - a notion probably for the best. Perhaps the effects of Sanguine Tenebris have taught a lasting lesson to the people of Adeluna and Revaliir - greed is never worth it… but then again, the souls of mortals have always been weak, and more powerful things could always come about…. — Sanguine Tenebris has come to a close! Thank you to all who participated - I hope you enjoyed! Hopefully, this shows that Dalanesca isn’t alllll that bad.

We finally finished the capital of Railoch's description! Gobethio will be a subarea of Railoch unless people really want it to be separate. You can find it here: Railoch's Area Description OR YOU CAN READ ABOUT IT BELOW! The Unwavering City of Gobethio: Capital of Railoch Because of the persistent thunderstorm overhead, much of Railoch remains an inhospitable wasteland filled to the brim with ruins and strange machines leftover from a bygone era. However, despite the tempest's best efforts, the heart of civilization still beats in the eye of its storm. Gobethio, the once abandoned city now called the motherland of Revaliir's archaeologists, stands as the last city yet to succumb to the sky's unending fury. No one is quite sure how Gobethio has lasted so long; not even the inhabitants themselves. It is one of Parvpora's greatest mysteries, especially given the city's remnant, advanced technologies. Gobethio is the only major settlement in all of Revaliir that is known for having hydraulic and electrical power. The entire city, while Adelunian in architectural style, is lined with magical conduits and aqueducts that harness power from the storms overhead and channel it into luxuries that the rest of the world can only dream about. From trams throughout the city to indoor plumbing and electrical lights, Gobethio has many comforts that no one else has been able to recreate. As for the city itself, it is quite sprawling even if more of a research outpost than a typical settlement. Some sight-seeing focuses can be found here and there, thanks to the elevated city center and many waterfalls that flow down to the boundaries. There are also trading hubs and inns scattered throughout the city's limits, but these are hardly the main focus of Gobethio's splendor. The numerous guilds and their halls that dot the landscape capture that role, especially with their tendency toward ornate design. Gobethio's residents are particularly fascinated with lights, and so they often devote a great amount of resources toward flashy buildings when they want to impress. Yet despite this shiny and bustling exterior, Gobethio does play host to a multitude of secrets. The reason for its high volume of archaeologists is because of the oddities that surround the settlement. The implementation of all of its technology, save for the production of additional lightning rods, light fixtures, and pipes, is completely lost on anyone that lives there now. What lies above ground and what has been implemented or repaired since the city was first resettled is not nearly grand enough to provide all of the creature comforts that the people have come to expect. There are vaults of machinery deep underground, guarded by traps and unspeakable monsters. The archaeologists have gotten rich off of the wonders within that they have managed to plunder, but no one is sure how far down the complex goes or whether it is smart to find out.

Announcement:

Our Twitch Affiliate Naki introduced me to his good friend Arthzull, a professional graphic designer, who has generously given us a huge discount on designing us not only a logo but also a header for Revaliir. We will have our own images and truly be unique. Normally logos are $70 but when he heard about our troubles he gave us a huge discount down to $20 and is giving us a header. Naki also is throwing money down so that our header is professional sketched by someone that Arthzull knows. We'll be able to watch Arthzull's twitch when he starts to work on Revaliir's logo and I am working with him to make sure it is the best that Revaliir deserves. I can't thank everyone enough for supporting us and it has made me tear up greatly. I hope that we can continue making Revaliir unique and wonderful, a place where we can truly be ourselves and enjoy our creativeness together. Thank you to both Arthzull and Naki! Make sure to thank them both. -Brittlez, Revaliir Admin

Apply to Become a God(5 month warning):

Before I get started I just want to remind people that we have no tangible NPC gods. You can say your character worships a deity that isn't a PC but you can't interact with them. These are our rules please respect them. We even have a place where people can practice the old faiths here on the site. See the City of Abed for the Tower of Edhit. The God Applications are coming and we will be giving instructions in December. We are giving you guys a 5-month heads up to get your activity up. There will be only 1 spot to round us out to 6 spots.

You must: 1. Be able to write 10 posts a month. 5 the first two weeks 5 the last two weeks. 2. Be an active member of the OOC boards. Remember that being a god isn't a status symbol. It's a staff position. 3. Post with more than 1 person. Meaning you can't just post with me on all my different accounts(example). 4. Have a yearly event idea. 5. Be a role-model. This means behaving yourself. 6. Be prepared for conflict. This isn't all sunshine and rainbows. Staff discussions can get heated and you must be able to deal with that. 7. Be actively present for staff decisions, this means being in touch with us not all of the time but we prefer most of the time. You will be a deciding factor on future changes. This is the Application (though it may change by the time we get to December so be prepared for that. DO NOT send us it. We will throw it out and you will have to redo it/resend it) We'll tell you when the time frame to send us it starts. Application Form to Fill Out: 1. Username: 2. Character name: 3. Brief character history (max 150 words): 4.Our gods and goddesses don't have domains per se, for they have a title or function that defines them, which you can see just under the title of their temples. Our question is: what would your title be, and what would it mean for your character as a deity? How would they function as such? (Max 250 words) 5.What would be your character's three god powers? (bear in mind that this does not have to be absolutely definitive as they would be subject to approval (should you be selected) but a general idea would be helpful.)(If you need an example check Angela's signature) i. ii. iii. 6. As a deity, you would be expected to run events from time-to-time(Once a year). Describe one such event that you would like to run. (max 150 words.) 7. Why do you think you would make a good deity? This is your chance to tell us about yourself, why you feel qualified for the position, what qualities you feel you could bring to the deity mix and how you would function as a part of our expanding community. (max 250 words.) 8. Provide us with an example of your writing. This can be from a thread you have already written, or it could be a piece you have specially written for this application. Whatever the case, it should feature the character you are applying with. (250 words max) Sample Application (I used Toya, Ang's sister, for the App since doing one for Ang wouldn't have been as fun… I will admit Toya looks fun to play as for a Deity >.>; This is how we expect your app to look like in format. No links to posts or links to other documents.): Username: Toya Character name: Toya Rose Brief character history (max 150 words): Toya is the queen of the White Court in Arri. She was the youngest and raised by her four older sisters. Her life has been met with fire and destruction much like her soul. She has the soul of a dragon and the madness that goes with it. She does what she has to for her family even if her attitude says otherwise. Toya is the queen of Wildfire and Innocence; the innocence due to her ignorance. The queen is a person who speaks with her fists instead of logic, a formidable foe. One of a few mortals ever to punch a god and survive. Toya is also the Tactician in Arri, meaning she has good standings with how to win a war as long as you don’t leave the talking and negotiations to her. Our gods and goddesses don't have domains per se, for they have a title or function that defines them, which you can see just under the title of their temples. Our question is: what would your title be, and what would it mean for your character as a deity? How would they function as such? (Max 250 words) The Fire Wrath, The Dragon. Toya is a creature made of fire and destruction. Her heart is always in the right place but her mind leads her down the destructive path. The saying the road to Hell is paved with good intentions defines her. She would rather fight to get her way and ignite the world on fire when it isn’t. Diplomacy is lost on her and she would be the first one to throw a punch if things weren’t going her way. What would be your character's three god powers? (bear in mind that this does not have to be absolutely definitive as they would be subject to approval (should you be selected) but a general idea would be helpful.) i. Toya is able to have a volcanic eruption so the battlefield is in a haze with volcanic soot. ii. She is able to make things that would normally have a good effect become destructive. EX: Picking up a glass and having it break from the slightest grip. iii. Anything can become her firestorm, a massive fire attack. EX: Couch cushions lighting on fire or Ice cubes even. As a deity, you would be expected to run events from time-to-time. Describe one such event that you would like to run. (max 150 words.) The Dragon’s Nest. It is a tournament on the back of dragons. The ultimate aerial battle between warriors. The catch is that the dragons don’t want you on their back and they have been told to do whatever necessary to fling the competitors off. This would be a writing competition about a changing battlefield that just happens to be a dragon. Why do you think you would make a good deity? This is your chance to tell us about yourself, why you feel qualified for the position, what qualities you feel you could bring to the deity mix and how you would function as a part of our expanding community. (max 250 words.) I am an active member of the community. I run not only the Wishing Well but also heavily stalk the help forums looking for people to help. I have a standard of twenty threads I’m in at all times for roleplay. I’m also one of the veteran roleplayers for the Greenhorns’ Guild. I draw icons for the shops and for events in my spare time. I also always answer my PMs from people when they get sent. I can post upwards of 60 posts a month for a good month. A bad month is 20. I also multitask with 36 other characters. Provide us with an example of your writing. This can be from a thread you have already written, or it could be a piece you have specially written for this application. Whatever the case, it should feature the character you are applying with. (250 words max) She wasn’t sure that this is what Blaine had meant by ‘finding a new hobby’. She wasn’t even sure if this would be a get out of jail free card. The lycan was protective of his slightly psycho mate. Toya had a tendency not to understand when she was taking things way too far. Her recent activities included being a grand champion in Torn’s arena; it kept her out of trouble. However, when she woke up after one of her victories she found herself tied up to the bed with a quite displeased Blaine at the foot of it. She was more disobedient than a child being told no. Saddling her dragon she heard about the unrest that was in the ice lands. Her blood ran hot naturally and there were plenty of nights that Blaine had thrown all of the blankets off the bed just to deal with how hot her body tended to be. It was the flame elemental in her that stirred; go figure the crazy one had the destructive powers of fire. Climbing up onto the golden dragon they were soon off. Through the thick of blizzards and giant clumps of snow she found herself wanting to be back in the desert, she wasn’t cold but she wasn’t happy here. Her eye was visibly twitched as she landed the dragon. If it was one thing that she had a gifted talent in it was using her nose. Tips Your Event and You: I think this is one of the most intimidating and hard things on the application. (I know it made me really nervous when I applied for my spot) It is absolutely alright to ask people for help with this. Personally, I would pm past deities or current deities for tips and tricks. This absolutely does not have to be an event that you will follow through with. Make it practical and within our reason of doing. To help you out a bit here is how our event system works: You can have 3 prizes, 2-3 synth drop to make the prizes, it can be site-wide, in a pre-existing area, in your own area of your making, you can choose to do a hit point event where you heal or strike down health. For example; Angela needs priests to save 75,000 crops. People post and it will raise the bar from 0 to whatever. If people make it you could have a prize or if they don't you can have a bad result. For a creature, you could do KILL THE DRAGON! 75,000 health and each post will knock its health down. You can do other things with the health bar as well. I think Rhylana did her event it was healing Rhylana. Be creative nothing is set in stone just because it says hit point/heal doesn't mean you have to do it that way. You would work with me to determine just how much health/heal would be alright for the activity on our site. Obviously, having too much or too little is a bad thing. Your Title & You: Don't make it like an enigma where we or normal members can't understand where you are going with it. I should be able to tell what your positions are by reading your name. Angela's original title was She who gifts Fertility and Holds the Cornucopia (Fertility and Earth) Also your deity can hate their title. Angela hates hers now and I did that to show that the world gave her the title, not the other way around. You can see her title now: Master Artisan of Life and Keeper of the Cornucopia. Long and she hates but gives her story. You do you: When you get to why you want to be a deity think about everything you do for Revaliir. We want people who are a part of our community, people who help out, and who are friendly and least likely to cause conflict. You should join our Discord/Skype to find out more about our community and get to know everyone. People who are staff are required or will be to be part of our chatbox/discord/skype in some way. Your Post Sample & You: Get a post sample you have on the site and grammar check it. We highly suggest making it best. You can even do an entry that hasn't been done. Anything that shows up why your character is the spot you are applying for. Remember the character is the spot not the spot, is the character. Your God Powers & You: These god powers should be for god modding outside of your temple. In your temple, you can god mod all you want. For instance: Angela's relic making I could take off and most likely will for something I can actually god mod same with her desires. It requires cooperation with other roleplayers, therefore isn't god modding. Even I make mistakes and so do the other gods. These powers can change over time as we adjust and get better at what we're doing. They should be relative to your spot. Something I could replace her relic making with is: Her Earth Magic is stronger than anyone's at any given time. Few other things: The deity position is a job. You guys will be expected to actually work. When we say you have to be active we mean it. Even in times of slow posting where we disband the quota, there is a mandatory log in time where you guys have to spend on the site. If you didn't show up for your job you would get fired, this is no different. PMing Dalanesca and myself to see how your app was, if we got it, or ANYTHING like that will be considered prying and we won't hesitate to throw it out. If for whatever reason you are worried your application didn't make it through the pm system (which is doubtful) please pm another staff member and they will check. Dalanesca and myself cannot and will not look over your apps. You don't send your future employer your application and be like "Is this what you want?" That won't work. It's not here. No favoritism. I don't know how many time I have to say this but I will say it again: I don't care who you are. I've thrown other people's applications out who I've been friends with for years. I don't believe in favoritism and neither does Dalanesca. We might hurt your feelings but understand we have our reasoning. It is by no means a betrayal in our friendship. I'm friends with everyone on the site. I'll be best friends with you all but that will not get you this spot. Your talent, dedication, and time on Revaliir will. Be careful about what titles you choose and what areas you choose. Make sure that it isn't anything that can be made out as if you are trying to take a current deity's spot. Don't apply to be: The Gifter of Fertility knowing full well that we have a goddess in that range. This has been a problem. Make sure your app is clear. Make your spot known in the application and not all over. Look over your powers and make sure that they don't overlap with other gods. If you want to know if you can you can ask that god if that's ok. (I really don't care about god powers being close to Angela's so have at it but the others might care). Don't use this application as a platform to complain about some injustice done to you. I have a paper shredder with your name on it. Don't waste ours or your own time. Do not link us to stuff in your app. We will ignore you. We were lenient last time with this stuff but this time around we will ignore it. If you want it in your app make room for it. This includes; backstory, post sample, etc etc. You wouldn't link stuff off your application for a real life job don't do it here either. Do not send us a half-filled out applications. (This has happened) Be professional. If I or a staff member catches someone intimidating members not to apply I will strike you or worse. I don't care who you are – this is not okay. Sell us your character don't just write it down and be like "Whatever". SELL IT. You want it this bad you make sure we can tell. I can tell when people don't really care so trust me it shows. Don't apply if you want to just advance your plot and act like you have nothing left to rp but be a god. Let me tell you something: We don't trust that and we don't appreciate it. What's stopping you from making god and getting bored with it? This is a spot you should plan to have long term. I've held my deity position before Revaliir and I intend on keeping it. We're in for the long haul and you should be as well. We're dedicated to serving Rev for the greater good even if we're the only ones left rping. That was the promise we the creators made ourselves when we built Rev. It will always be here. Always. Do not be intimidated: What I posted above are guidelines. As we evolve we have to set new standards for ourselves and for Revaliir. I do not want people to think: Well gosh my character is off the wall I'll never make it. On the contrary, anyone has the possibility of making it. Personally, I like off the wall ideas but I'm only 1 of the selectors for applications. I don't suggest trying to play into our likes or dislikes (People know me they know what I like) because I become hardened when I do applications. I, for the most part, am the one who delivers the bad news to friends, spouses, etc, etc. I want the best for this site and so do the other ladies. We can also tell from past posts and other things. Most importantly have fun with it. If you don't think you can handle quota and think it will ruin your experience… Don't torture yourself. I had a good friend apply and get his spot and I ended up demoting him because he lost all interest because quota ate him alive. 10 posts a month doesn't sound like a lot but when it is expected of you quota becomes a burden you have to bear.

[hermadnessty]

RULES

PORTRAYAL. As you may have already wagered, this is a blog for the character Jennifer Goines from the TV series 12 Monkeys. I am in no way affiliated with anyone involved in the making and portrayal of Jennifer Goines in film. I’m just a lowly college student who has succumbed to yet another muse.

ACTIVITY. My activity on this blog will be low and sporadic, mainly. I have obligations outside of being on Tumblr as well as multiple muses, so where I’ll be will very much depend on my current muse levels and the level of interest there is in interacting with Jennifer. I'll potentially build a queue that’ll run semi-frequently at some point, but that’s very low priority for me at the moment. If you see me active and I owe you a reply, though, don’t hesitate to give me a little nudge. Sometimes my procrastinating ass needs one.

FORMATTING. With each new blog I make I adopt a new kind of formatting style.  The one I use right now is one that I’m very happy with and probably will not be changing anytime soon. Please don’t feel obligated to match this. I’m not super picky about the aesthetics of my blog, and the only change I’ll make ( if ever ) is from normal text to small text. I personally DO NOT use the super small text but if that’s what you like to use it’s fine. I’ve got very little trouble reading it and it doesn’t inconvenience me. I will mirror-format ONLY in some cases and ONLY at the writer’s request.

One other small request I have with regards to formatting is that if you want to continue an ask as an RP that you create a new post and link back to the meme than reblog the ask itself. This is simply personal preference from an aesthetic standpoint as it looks cleaner on my blog. Thank you!

STATUS. As of right now this blog IS mutuals only, but how strict I am with that rule will vary depending on how large this blog becomes. However, all starter calls posted are open to ONLY MUTUALS unless stated otherwise ( those, however, will be rare ). Memes will be open on a case-by-case basis no matter what. PLEASE do not like a starter call not marked for non-mutuals if you are indeed a non-mutual. Send a meme in instead. I’m selective in my immediate follows so interaction through asks helps me gauge if we might be compatible. My IMs are also always open to everyone, and chatting OOC is another good way for me to gauge potential compatibility.

SHIPPING. I’m shipping trash. I love ships as much as the next person, honestly. Chemistry is key though. On both sides. If I’m feeling it but you’re not, please let me know. I’m more than happy to do something unrequited or even just try to tone things down all together. Likewise, if I’m not feeling the chemistry either, I’ll do my best to approach you the same way. Romance is great, but it’s not everything. Friendships. Hate ships. Family ships. All of these are great too and I’m always happy to explore those as well.

AS A NOTE, however, I’d like to make it clear that when it comes to Jennifer, I am fairly set in which ships from her canon that I enjoy and which ones I don’t. Or rather, how I enjoy them and how I don’t. The 12 Monkeys RP fandom is pretty small, but if it ever grows then hopefully the following information is helpful.

Deacon/Jennifer is my OTP. Platonic. Romantic. Everything in between. I fell in love with the ship before watching the show and their chemistry on it only made me love it more. It is VERY likely that this ship will be referenced as part of my main timeline, at least with regards to how I see Jennifer’s feelings toward him. If this is ever a point of discomfort for you, let me know. I can shift accordingly.

Cole/Jennifer I only ship platonically or in the same brief, one-sided context that we were given in canon. I can’t see my views on this ship ever shifting beyond that mindset, so I would appreciate it if the topic is never forced.

Cassie/Jennifer is something I primarily ship platonically, but I see the romantic potential behind it and am more than willing to write it out should the right chemistry develop with my partner.

MEMES. I LOVE MEMES. Seriously. If you want to send in the thing, please do. I will most definitely appreciate it, even if I take three billion years to respond. Memes are ALSO a great way to start RPs with no prior plotting or even prior interaction, so I do really encourage you to send them in! Meme me up, Scotty!

EXCLUSIVITY. As of right now, I am NOT muse exclusive with any blogs and have NO intentions of doing so in the near future. I will, however, consider practicing ship exclusivity in certain cases and am open to having mains as well.

CREDITS. All icons on this blog have been cropped and edited by me using a PSD made by honeypsd. Border is from a glorysoaked pack. Any other blog related graphics will also most likely have been made using templates and PSDs made by honeypsd.

FINAL NOTES / MUN INFO. Congratulations! You’ve finished this brick! Little bit of info about me, the mun. My names Elli. I’m 21 years old and currently studying to become a high school math teacher. Color and winter guard are my life, so if you’re familiar with either please pop in and scream with me about them.

To sum up I’m super friendly and harmless, so never be worried about approaching me via IMs. Sometimes I may come across as a handful, but I’m actually a very chill person and do my best to give everyone in the community the utmost respect. This is a very do unto others type of blog, so if there’s ever an issue with me please don’t hesitate to bring it up. Social cues aren’t the easiest for me to pick up on, so just be frank with me whenever possible and I’ll do my best to do the same with you.

No password is necessary because I’ve always found them rather awkward, but I really appreciate you taking the time to read this. As I’ve said before, I’m always open to interaction and plotting so feel free to hit me up whenever! If we are mutuals you are also always free to ask for my Discord! Have a lovely day!