#there are parts of it i don't like and i've rewritten them hundreds of times but can't get it any better than this. oh well :/ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bi-panicatthedisco · 22 days ago

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The Game That Is Life.

Part 2.

[author here! just finished this chapter this morning. There's like two moments in it that I feel satisfied about, but I really hope you all like it! I've rewritten this too many times to read it again lolol. And as before, remember to get some water and rest! And have a great rest of your day!!]

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Now to say Yuu expected to wake up and still be in twisted wonderland would've been a complete and utter lie, and yet here we are. With a cat thing sleeping on their face. Technically Yuu brought that one on themselves. But regardless!

In better news, Yuu hasn't seen that weird screen thing yet, so maybe it's gone for good? And oh shit they jinxed it... It showed up as soon as they started the janitor stuff Crowley asked them to do. Well at least it's controlling them so they don't have to do the job themselves in a way. So small wins.

Who the frick frack apple jack is this dude? ...oh, oh damn. If Yuu wasn't restrained by that screen behind them, they'd totally go for the throat right now. Literally, not metaphorically. What's this Ace dude so smug about!? You're lording over them because they don't know your little statues?!

...oh it's going down as soon as this stupid screen is gone. And believe Yuu when they- oh DAGNABBIT the cat is setting stuff on fire again! And... Is the screen laughing? Yuu's certain they can hear that weird screen laughing.

...why'd that Ace kid stop? He's looking over here now. Why's he looking at them? He's acting so weird now? Wait a sec, he's not looking at Yuu, he's looking at the screen! He can see the screen! Yuu knew they weren't going crazy!

Hey, no pretending you didn't see it! Stop it! Oh if Yuu could control themselves right now, they'd shake this smug jerk until he confessed! He definitely saw it! Why... Why won't he just say something...? Geez, as if Yuu needed more reasons to dislike the guy.

Now the headmage is here, gReAt. Just what this day needed. ...one hundred windows?! Oh that damn screen better be here to do it for them still. This sucks! At least Ace will have to do it too...

Maybe Yuu will get a chance to ask him about the screen! He definitely saw it, Yuu just needs confirmation they aren't crazy. Plus, maybe this brat can give them some more info about this place. He at least knew a lot about those statue dudes.

Oh, the screen is gone again... But so are Crowley and Ace. Dagnabbit! Now Yuu will actually need to do the janitor stuff. At least it ain't all bad though, they've got a good lead with the screen.

As Yuu continues planning out how to deal with this turn of events, they pick up leaves from the ground and set them in front of grim, where he promptly sets them on fire as the ashes scatter to the wind. Other students passing by notice this, but don't call it out. Yuu's face is surprisingly intimidating while they're thinking...

:.:.

As Ace got out of class, he was still thinking about that weird face he saw in the screen behind the magicless kid. When he heard that laughter, he had looked up to see where it came from, only to notice the screen for the first time. But, was it there before he had noticed it? He doesn't think he'd miss something like that.

In any case, it's not like it matters anymore. He ain't gonna clean those windows if he gets the choice. They're janitors anyway, they should be used to this. Might as well just hide in heartslabyul, he doubts that they'd be able to find him as long as he went to his room. That place is a labyrinth.

No no no!! How did they find him!? Kay, just gotta go through the mirror and...! Gah! OW!! What the heck just hit him?! It's impossible to climb out from under this thing! Oh Ace is so going to get whoever did this to him!

Huh? Oh it's that juice guy from orientation! He was weirdly eager for all of this stuff, makes sense he'd be a goody-two-shoes who'd butt into things he ain't a part of! Geez, there goes his okay first day.

...the screen is still there. It keeps looking between them, turning slightly. He can't move like he'd want to when it's on him. Does this kid actually have magic? Don't they know it's against the rules to use magic without permission? Hmph, this is getting more and more frustrating.

Oh great, now they're looking at him like they wanna kill him. What'd he do!? Oh right... Well anyway, it's their fault if they can't take a joke. In any case, this is so stupid!! Why can't he say any of this?! He's going to have a nice long Talk with this janitor when he can control himself again.

Huh? Oh yeah! That weasel thing disappeared! He definitely isn't gonna let that weasel out of the work if he has to do it! CATCH HIM!

.:..

:::

.:..

Well that could have gone better. Oh yeah, laugh it up screen thing. So glad you're enjoying his misery! Hmph, rude. Now they have to go to a abandoned mine to get a replacement magestone, and he still can't control his own body! It wasn't even his fault this time!

This day can't get any worse.

.:..

:::

.:..

aaaaaAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! WHY'S THERE A MONSTER IN HERE!? Great! Now they're fighting it! This is exactly how he wanted his day to go!! Huh? Geez Deuce, this is NOT the time to freeze up!

...what's he looking at? Huh? Can he see the screen? He was acting like he couldn't before... NOT THE TIME!! HE CAN ASK HIM LATER!

"...so gl-d I -ot that D-uce -ard..."

What? Was that... From the screen? That didn't sound like Yuu's voice. Is there someone else in there? Yuu and Deuce definitely heard that too, but not Grim? That's... That's something he can worry about later. For now, they just need to run!

:..

..:

:.:.

Deuce breathes a sigh of relief, flopping down onto the grass outside of the mine. He's clutching the new magestone tightly in his hand, with a happy smile on his face. But... He's still confused. He saw something in the mine, and heard it. Behind Yuu.

Didn't they say his name? that... That can be worried about later. For now, he's just so relieved he's not gonna get expelled! They just have to get this to the headmage, and it'll all be good!

Huh now that's he's thinking about it, the screen's gone now... Oh, and Ace is pulling him to the side?

"Hey, you saw that screen too, right?"

"Um... What? Yeah, do you know what it is?"

Ace sighs and shakes him head, glancing at Yuu who's walking towards them.

"No clue, but if anyone has answers, it'll be them."

Yuu grabs Ace by the shoulders, and shakes him a few times with an annoyed expression.

"You saw it too! Why didn't you say anything back then!?"

"Geez! What'd I do!?"

Ace puts his hands up in surrender, looking annoyed at Yuu. To which Yuu just looks more annoyed.

"What didn't you do!?"

"That's rich from the person who's been controlling us with a screen!"

Yuu looks shocked, and absolutely indignant at that accusation.

"I ain't controlling it! It's been controlling me! I honestly thought I was crazy when I first saw it. I wanted to ask you about it to see if you recognized it, since I saw you noticing it earlier!"

"...fine, I guess that makes sense. but if you aren't the one controlling it, then who is?"

Deuce has just been standing there this whole time, hopelessly lost.

"What are you talking about? Controlling people? This feels like a fever dream..."

Yuu sighs, sounding tired.

"Yeah, I'm not completely convinced it isn't one. But in any case, at least know I know I'm not going crazy. Maybe we can figure something out now."

"Yeah, like what? Ask the screen politely to leave us alone? Haaa, this situation is so weird..."

Ace shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders. He looks a little defeated as he talks, before glancing over and noticing grim walking towards them.

"Y'know what, let's just talk about this later. The weasel hasn't seen the screen yet, might as well not drag him into this."

Deuce stands up straighter, holding the magestone close to his chest as he looks over everything.

"Yeah, let's talk later. But for now... Let's get this magestone to the headmage!"

Ace nods. And even though Yuu would've wanted to talk more right now, they nod as well. They can only hope everyday isn't going to be like this... Yuu doesn't think they could take it.

[First part] [third part]

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ellzilla · 1 year ago

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Laughing Jack Headcanons!

I have so many things about this rewritten clown in my brain n' I don't think I've ever like Listed ALL the headcanons in one spot? individual posts but never a hoard of them, soo. Here's all on my mind rn but i've probably forgotten some! - He can't feel pain or temperature and struggles with texture. The best way to explain it is imagine wearing super thick work gloves all the time and trying to touch a cactus and then a fur pillow, only difference you're gonna feel is that you can push into the pillow. - He also can't sleep or smell, but he still yawns when he's exhausted and sneezes when there's visibly a lot of dust or whatever in the air. -Also he can't eat food or taste. If he tries, he'll throw it up along with black sludge after an hour or so. He can drink and feel the effects of alcohol, but it makes him fucking reek because he doesn't have any organs and it just kinda absorbs into his stuffing. - He's a huge kleptomaniac! He has entire tents in his carnival dedicated to shit he's stolen from people he's killed, but he keeps his favourite items in his trailer. -His skin is a combination of plastic and rubber, despite initially being made with fabric. There's a few parts on his body where left over seems are still visible. -The only part of his body that's white is his head and most of his torso, the rest has been stained black with a faint branch pattern connecting the colours together. -His makeup isn't makeup, it's just how he looks! And he hates it! -If he wears coloured clothes they'll eventually turn monochrome and won't regain colour. -Huge egomaniac! Part of his kelptomania fuels this as he hoards things that are rare/thought to not exist anymore -Only thing close to a friend he's ever had is his relationship with Zalgo and Will. -Doesn't remember how he came to be or why he loves violence. He sometimes dwells on it but not for too long or else he gets upset. -Holy items can tranquilize him/subdue him on prolonged physical and can send him into a state akin to sleep but with none of the benefits. Having a holy item nearby simply makes him mildly less agitated and a lot more tired. -He can turn into smoke and do mild shapeshifting, mainly changing sizes or stretching things by an impossible amount. -Extremely quick to anger -Loses track of the year a lot -Has no clue why he has such a familial bond with Will and struggles with it as all he's done for hundreds of years is be either an asshole or kill people, so his nice gestures and affection sometimes comes with implied threats

-Extremely overprotective and controlling of Will to the point Will doesn't feel like he has a life of his own [Will used to love it as a kid, but now he's in his mid 20's/early 30's? Not so much] -Can use his pullstring as another limb, being able to grab things or life himself up with it. -Sometimes literally hangs around by cradling/hammocking himself with his pullstring

#creepypasta #laughing jack #laughing jack headcanons #headcannons #creepypasta headcannons

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aangarchy · 7 months ago

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I really hope you write that atla fanfic that you said you want write but wont. After reading all the bullet points I was like…this is really good thanks for at least sharing it. Love your thoughts and your blog!

Alright, you're tempting me. I'll post an excerpt from a finished chapter below the cut. I don't have an ao3 account (i do have a wattpad but god knows what i'll find there if i reopen the app after centuries of catching dust) so you'll just have to deal with tumblr's layout for it.

Two things:

1. english is not my first language. Please keep that in mind while you read. If some language seems repetitive or too simple, or there's spelling/grammatical errors, it's because of that.

2. I will reiterate that i started writing this story at age 14-15. The original file is from 2014, on my USB, and i have edited and rewritten parts so many times i've lost count. I'm still rereading and editing stuff once in a while. This is purely for my own personal pleasure and will probably never be published bc in my own opinion i'm just not meant to be a writer. I'm not asking for criticism or tips.

To add some context to this sample: the story basically hinges on the legend of Korra taking place in a time equivalent to the 1920's. In my story Korra dies aged 106, meaning Shen is born in the year equivalent to our late 2000's, making him a teenager in the late 2010's early 2020's. There's internet, smartphones, social media, tv etc. This part of the chapter takes place after the Earthking invited every 16yr old earthbender for a test, looking for the Avatar.

Thank you for reading and enjoy!

The town hall seems eerily quiet when we arrive. The only indication there is something going on, is the two royal guards standing by the massive entrance. I recognize their uniforms from back when I lived in Ba sing se. They'd only really show up in the middle or the upper ring, since that's usually where the Earthking likes to spend his time. It's extremely rare for an Earthking to set foot in the lower ring, let alone outside of Ba sing se, I'm quite certain it hasn't actually happened in my lifetime. Until now.

I walk up to the door and one of the guards holds out his hand to stop me.

"Invitation?" He asks in a deep grumbling voice.

I search my jacket for the folded piece of paper that contains my invite. After I awkwardly fumble it out of my pocket I hold it out to show the guard. He nods, his green tassels on his uniform hat bobbing along with him. The guard on the left nods as well, opening the massive decorated wooden door to allow me entry. I move to step inside.

"Invitation?" The guard bellows behind me.

I turn around to see Yahno holding up his hands defensively. "Hey man, I'm just here for moral support."

I can practically feel the guard raise an eyebrow. "No entry without invitation." His lack of words really makes him sound like a caveman.

"Alright, alright." Yahno backs away, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his gray parka. "I'll be outside okay?" He says to me, and I manage to nod before the guard all but smacks the door shut in my face.

When I turn around, I'm met with the remnants of what once must have been a beautiful hallway. The carpet spanning the length of the hallway used to be a rich emerald green with what looks like delicate floral patterns, but it has been dulled by over a hundred and fifty years of people trampling over it. The one on the stairs is a bit less faded, indicating the upper floors don't get used nearly as much as the first floor. Pillars made of rich brown marble face each other, but the cracks are incredibly obvious, especially the places where someone tried to fix them with grout that doesn't match the color of the pillar. Tapestries decorate the walls. I get a bit closer to inspect what they're supposed to represent, but it's barely distinguishable due to the amount of dust, and how much the sun has bleached the fabric. I can just make out a figure in the middle, a small child wearing yellow robes and an arrow on his head. An airnomad, probably.

I silently trudge op the stairs. I could still run. I could just jump out the back window. They wouldn't notice one candidate not showing up right?

Though it would arguably look suspicious if one candidate goes missing and the Avatar happens to still not be found.

I skip the second floor and head straight to the third. This floor compared to the first floor is almost empty. The sills of the wooden doors are cracked, the paint chipped in several places. There's a faded rectangular mark on the wall where a painting used to be. I walk all the way to the end, where a chair is placed outside of the door marked number 6. Inhaling deeply through my nose and exhaling through my mouth, I take a seat in the chair. My hand reaches for my neck, the annoying tingle I've felt there since my family vacation to Republic City returning in full force. I've since identified this feeling as a spiritual thing. It happened the first time when I laid eyes on the spirit portal in Republic City, and it happened again on the last summer solstice.

Korra, for all moments to finally reach out to me this is not the one. I say in my head.

A year and a half. That's how long I've known I'm the Avatar. And I still haven't made contact with any of my previous lives. Thanks to Yahno, ever the Avatar nerd, I now know Korra is supposed to reach out before I can talk to any of the others. Knowing what I know about Korra, she was never really all that connected to her spiritual side, despite being the Avatar that reopened the spirit portals, fought the Harmonic Convergence, and created an entirely new spirit portal in the middle of a city. Hopefully when she does show herself at one point or another, she'll actually be able to help me master the Avatar State. If not... I don't really want to think about what might happen if not.

A creaking sound from the door opening next to me startles me from my train of thought. Song, one of my classmates, specifically the girl who lent me her pencil on my first day, exits the room.

"Oh, hi Shen." She smiles brightly.

"Hey, how'd it go?" I ask, despite knowing the answer.

She leans closer to me, doe eyes looking straight into mine. "It's not me. Not that I'm shocked."

I manage to feign ignorance and nod solemnly at her answer. "It probably won't be me either."

She giggles. "Right? Wouldn't that be something."

Ouch.

I lean closer. "So... what is the test?" I whisper.

She shrugs. "He just asked me questions, and as soon as he determined my birthday is too far away from Avatar Korra's death, he let me leave. I was in there for all but five minutes."

I nod. Just like Yahno predicted, he's going to use his truth seeing ability. He thinks the Avatar knows their identity and is hiding. Not that he's wrong. I swallow, trying to get past the ball of nerves sinking in my stomach.

Another set of footsteps approaches in the hall. "What are you doing here?"

My face contorts from annoyance at the familiar voice.

"Doing the Avatar test just like everyone else our age, Uma." Song chippers.

Uma stops in front of me, I jump out of my chair instinctively.

"Well this one can just go home already." She gestures at me and scrunches her nose. "There's no way the kid who's earthbending is worse than my four year old little brother's is the Avatar." She chuckles.

"And there's no way someone with a nasty attitude like yours could be the Avatar either, Uma." I retort.

Her nostrils flare as she takes the insult, but doesn't want to give me the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, she huffs and chooses to lean against the wall, checking her short nails for dirt.

Song gives me a sympathetic look. "I think your earthbending is just fine, Shen. Listen I have to go, good luck in there!" She swings her bag over her shoulder and marches off.

Another royal guard stands in the doorway. "Next." He bellows through the hall.

Uma steps forward. "Officer, I'm pretty sure you won't have to test this one. We could skip him so I can go next and we won't waste our time." She smiles sickly sweet.

The temptation I feel to just firebend her smile off of her face to make her swallow her words is immense, but my fear of being discovered keeps me in check.

"We test every single person that received an invitation. We don't want to miss a single one." The guard responds.

Uma blows her fringe out of her face and returns to her spot to lean against the wall.

I try to ignore the taste of bile in the back of my throat as I walk in, head held high.

The Earthking is sat at an ornate mahogany desk, scribbling something on the papers in front of him. The decorated fire place behind him hasn't been used in decennia, dust having settled on top of the wood rotting inside.

The king looks up from his writing, straight at me. His face looks younger than I imagined, seeming to be about 45 instead of his actual age of 56. The only true signs of aging are the streaks of gray in his brown hair, which is pulled up in a traditional Fire Nation top bun, one of the only tells of the king's mixed origins. I glance at his feet, and like I expected, he isn't wearing shoes. The carpet that should be reaching under his chair has been rolled up under the desk so the bare soles of his feet can be in direct contact with the marble flooring. He smiles sweetly, which makes me even more nervous. It'd be much easier to lie to a man whom I dislike up front, not a sweet middle aged fatherly type. I don't do well with fatherly types.

"Shen Gao right?" He asks, voice smooth like honey.

I shove my daddy issues in a mental box and nod. "That's right your majesty." I bow.

His smile widens. "Please, sir is fine." He gestures at the empty seat in front of him.

My footsteps are amplified by the stone floor as I approach. When I sit, the chair creaks a little.

"Nice to meet you Shen, my name is Seizan."

I nod.

"I know it might be a little intimidating to sit in front of a king. You can just address me as sir, no need for all those pesky formalities." He winks, resulting in an unpleasant shiver going up my spine. "Now, what do you expect to happen today?"

I hesitate. "I expect to be tested on whether or not I might be the Avatar."

He nods. "And what do you think the result might be?"

I swallow. Half-truths. "I don't know." I say. Technically not a lie, since I truly don't know whether or not Yahno's plan will save me today.

The king leans back in his chair. "Alright Shen, I'm just going to ask you a few simple questions. All I need is for you to answer them honestly."

I nod again. As the king takes a different sheet of paper, my eye is drawn by the lone candle standing on a round side table, right next to a guard. As if the guard was stationed there to watch the candle. Why would a simple candle warrant such protection?

"Shen, were you born in the year of the rabbit?"

"Yes." I answer, ripping my gaze from the candle and meeting the king's.

"When is your birthday?"

"December 27th." I answer. My first half-truth. Technically I don't know when my actual date of birth is, but my family celebrates on December 27th every year, that was the day my mother found me, abandoned by the old lantern fountain. It is the date of birth written on my adoption certificate.

The king carefully writes down my answers. "Hm. About twelve weeks after Avatar Korra's death. It would be very late but not impossible." The king muses, his lips pursed under his neatly groomed dark mustache.

I breathe out. Looks like I got away with my first half truth. I try to relax, slowing my breathing and my heartbeat. The king looks at me sideways, giving me a once-over.

"Are you an earthbender?" He asks next, tapping his pen on his chin.

"Yes."

He picks up a clay disk and sets it in front of me. "Just to make sure, can you lift this using your earthbending?"

I nod and stretch out my hand, palm facing up. With a simple upwards flick, the disk steadily floats above the desk. I hold it there for a second and then set it back down.

"Would you say you're a skilled earthbender?" The king asks.

I nearly guffaw loudly at the question. Calling me skilled would be a massive exaggeration.

I shake my head. "No. We only discovered I was an earthbender two years ago. I'm still catching up."

He puts his pen down and leans forward on his arms, seemingly intrigued. "Really? Is there a reason for this late discovery? Normally earthbenders show signs before the age of five."

"I was raised by my mother, who is a nonbender. She didn't know to look for signs."

"And your father?"

"Not present in my life, sir." I was nine when he left. Old enough to know he was also a nonbender, and two nonbenders usually aren't able to produce a bender. But that's not what the king asked.

He carefully takes note of all of my answers. "Rare case, to discover earthbending this late." He checks a pocketwatch. A guard on my left coughs.

"Where were you born?"

"Ba sing se."

The king's eyes widen a bit in surprise. "Oh, pray tell, why haven't I seen you for any of the Avatar tests in my own city?"

"We moved to Swordfish Bay over the summer. These Avatar tests didn't start til late fall." I explain.

The king nods. "Okay, fair." Amber eyes scan the notes, the only other sign of his mixed ethnicity. Everything else about this man, tanned skin and broad features, screams Earthkingdom. But those subtleties are small reminders that he's never fully been Earthkingdom. He's never fully been one of us.

"And the White Lotus didn't pass by to test you when you were little?"

"Back then it was still believed I was a nonbender."

"Right."

An uncomfortable silence stretches as he ponders over my answers.

"Curious case, you. An earthbender that escaped the initial Avatar search because you were believed to be a nonbender. Our method of finding the Avatar would have failed as well, seeing as you probably didn't possess any bending during that time either."

I wipe the clammy palms of my hands on my pants. Calm calm calm. It's only now the king pointed it out that it dawns on me. I haven't ever been tested before. Nobody ever thought to check by our house because no earthbender was recorded there. My sister being a nonbender as well, they never had any reason to pass by. The king has every reason to suspect me now.

He raises a bushy eyebrow. "Have you ever tried bending any other elements?"

Shit.

What do I answer to that? I can't flat out say no, he'll know right away that I'm lying. I try to stabilize my breathing. An idea creeps up in my mind.

"I've tried waterbending." I respond. "It didn't work." Sweat trickles down my spine. It's not a lie. I still haven't been able to bend water.

The king nods, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What about the other elements?"

Double shit.

"I have tried." This isn't a lie.

"What was the result?"

Triple shit.

I lock eyes with the king. I can practically feel my heart beating in my throat. He knows I'm nervous. He can feel it. I can't hide anything at all from him as long as my feet touch the ground. So what if I make sure he can't tell? Slowly and subtly, I lift my feet off of the floor ever so slightly.

"Didn't work." I respond curtly.

The king intertwines his fingers in front of him, resting his elbows on the desk. He stares at me but I don't break eye contact. It is the truth if I will it to be the truth. I beg my body to react as if I'm telling the truth. I know I don't have a tell, at least not visibly. But right now all I can do is hope he doesn't find an invisible tell.

He is the first to break eye contact. I suppress my sigh of relief. I'm not out of the woods yet.

"So, Shen," the king says softly, but I can't unhear the edge his words suddenly seem to have. "You're saying you tried bending elements besides earth and water, and had no results?"

I don't respond.

"You're not a firebender?" He asks again.

I breathe in. "I am not a firebending master, no." This is a half-truth I practiced with Yahno. I am a firebender, but I am not a master. Semantics.

"I'm assuming you're going to say you're not an airbending master either?" He raises one eyebrow, giving me the side eye looking up from his piece of paper.

I don't respond.

His eyes move to the candle sitting on the table with the guard. He nods, and the guard places the candle on the edge of the desk. So it is some kind of special candle? It can't detect Avatars, can it? Would such a thing as an Avatar detecting candle exist?

"Shen, did you know that in the Fire Nation, it is prudent to find out whether or not a newborn is a firebender or not? If they don't find out quickly, one toddler tantrum could set a house ablaze. It's important to detect firebenders fast, but how do you think it's done when the child is too small to execute any bending moves?"

I shake my head. "I have no idea, sir." My eyes flick to the candle. A firebender detecting candle?

The Earthking doesn't look away from the candle. "Well, the parents would usually place the baby by a fire. In ancient times, it would be a ceremonial fire pit. Nowadays, they usually prefer smaller fires like torches," his eyes flick to mine, "or candles."

I swallow.

"You see," he continues, "When a child is a firebender, and a candle is placed next to them, near the face, it'll grow. The flame will become bigger, wider, until it becomes nearly uncontainable where you'd have to snuff it out before it does any damage. That's when you know the child is a firebender. The stronger the flame, the stronger the firebender."

My eyes flare. Candles detect firebenders. The Fire Nation's method for detecting benders, which Yahno had mentioned. It all makes sense now. That's why the candle at our old house in Ba sing se grew that night. The night I held a flame in my hand for the first time. The night I firebent for the first time. The night I discovered I am the Avatar.

The king doesn't notice my reaction, or pretends not to.

"It's not a foolproof method." The king shrugs. "This method is specifically used to detect firebending when the subject doesn't yet know they are a firebender."

I know I am a firebender.

The king takes the candelabrum and slides it in between us. My eyes focus on the flame. The flame grows when the subject is a firebender. Usually firebenders that aren't aware of their abilities, probably because if they knew they could firebend they might cheat to change the results.

Wait.

I am a firebender. I could cheat to change the results. What if I bend the flame in order to keep it small? What if I subdue the flame just enough?

I keep my eyes on the flickering fire. It's about the size of a drop of water. See the height, I tell myself. Memorize it. The way it flickers along the flow of air in this room.

The king lets go of the candle, having set it right in front of me. I stare at the flame and grab hold of it, keeping my hand under the table so no one notices. Subdue. Subdue. Subdue.

The tingle in the back of my neck starts again. Not now. Any time but now.

I can feel the kings eyes locked on me, but I can't afford to look and lose my grip on the candle. I hold my hand to my side in a claw like motion, moving very slowly so the guard by the door doesn't notice. Any time the candle seems to grow, I close the space between my fingers more. I can feel the fire flickering in my hand, the familiar heartbeat and warmth bouncing on my fingertips, even from this distance I'm fully connected to it. Now that's a sign of a promising bender alright.

Sweat forms on my forehead and my upper lip. A minute passes, but it feels like an hour. The king eventually stands and snuffs the candle with the tip of his fingers, and I can finally let go.

"Hm, seems you're not a firebending master, like you said." He says, folding his hands behind his back.

I stare at him for a second, not sure if I heard him correctly.

"That's right." I confirm.

He gestures toward the door. "Well, clearly you're not who I'm looking for, then. You're free to go Shen." He smiles that fatherly smile again.

That's it? I can't believe it. It actually worked?

Hesitantly, I stand up from my chair. "Thank you for your time."

I bow respectfully and turn to leave. I walk towards the door, trying to make sure it doesn't look like I'm scrambling to get out of here. As I get there though, the guard steps in front of me.

My brows furrow. "He said I was free to go." I say.

The guard doesn't move, doesn't do anything. Then I feel it. The hairs on the back of my neck spring up, I can barely make out a fwoom as heat approaches my back. My instincts take over. I turn around and am faced with a massive flame heading straight towards my face. Without even really thinking about it I hold my hands out in front of me. The blast is so strong the impact sends me sliding. My back hits the door knocking the air out of my lungs. When I lower my hands the fire has dissipated, and the guard who shot the fireblast looks at me with wide eyes, like he just saw something unbelievable. I glance back at the king, who is now no longer smiling fatherly, but rather menacingly. The reality of what just happened sinks in.

I just blocked fire by bending it. In front of the king.

Fuck. Me.

The guard quickly regains his composure, and the king claps.

"Excellent!" He exclaims. "After all these years, I didn't think today would be the day."

He steps out from behind his desk and extends his hand towards me. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Avatar Shen."

#atla #atla fanfic #tlok fanfic #earth avatar #avatar #tlok #the era of shen #avatar shen #ask dori #anon #avatar the last airbender

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lucy90712 · 6 months ago

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Thanks for letting me know who you write for. Could I please request Balde x reader with this prompt "Can't you see I'm busy?" "I can but you're too cute to leave alone"? Only if you want of course😊

The alarm that I forgot to turn off suddenly took me out of the trance I was in staring at my laptop and the project I've been working on all week as its worth 80% of my grade and I have to pass this class. I turned the alarm off and saw how many texts and missed calls I had most of which were from Alejandro saying he misses me and asking if he can come over. I do feel bad about ignoring him but I have to get this done and it has to be good I know he'll understand when I finally finish and I can see him. Just as I was going to go back to typing I thought I should at least text a few people tell them I'm still alive so I text my parents first then just as I was about to text Ale the doorbell rang and there he was stood at my door.

"What are you doing here?" I asked

"Checking in on you I haven't heard from you in days and I wanted to make sure you were alive and taking care of yourself which judging by the dark circles under your eyes you aren't" he said

"I'm fine just busy I still have another 1000 words to write and I need more sources" I said

"I brought food for you can I come in for a bit just to make sure you eat" he said

"Ok but you better not distract me" I said

"I wouldn't dream of it" he smirked so I knew he was lying

Like the good boyfriend he is he cleared the coffee table for me, he gathered my notes and cleared up the glasses and plates I'd collected over the last few days. He washed them all up then came back with a fresh glass of water as well as the food he brought with him. I thanked him with a quick peck to the cheek before getting back to work. For a while he just sat staring at me as I read some articles and took down notes and I could tell because I could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of my head. For a while he kept his distance but then he slowly started moving closer until he was sat right next to me looking over my shoulder with an arm around my waist. It wasn't too distracting so I let him sit there as I know he's missed me and I've missed him too so a bit of attention is nice. That bit of attention quickly turned into kisses being placed on my neck and I could no longer concentrate.

"Can't you see I'm busy" I said

"I can but you're too cute to leave alone and I missed you so I want to spend some time with my girlfriend" he said

"I'm almost done I just need to figure out this last part then you can have my full attention" I said

"You've rewritten the same sentence about a hundred times since I got here you need a break let me spend some time with you provide a distraction so you can get back to work after you've cleared your mind" he said

"Ok fine but only for a few hours" I said

He didn't need any more encouragement to tackle me down onto the sofa wrapping his arms around me to hold me tightly as he possibly could. We stayed like that for a while which I have to admit was quite nice I didn't realise how much I'd missed getting to cuddle with Ale now I don't want him to ever let go but we can't stay like this forever as we both have lives we'll have to get back to at some point. Eventually he got off me and pulled me up with him so we can go somewhere together as he says I need to leave the house to get some inspiration. Before we went anywhere he made sure my work was saved and turned off my laptop so that I don't have to think about my project at all.

Ale refused to tell me where he planned to take me but he seemed to have an idea of where he wanted to go. The only hint he would give me is that we were going to have fun which didn't really narrow it down especially because we don't always have the same definition of fun but I trust him to have picked something we'd both enjoy. In the car he didn't stop asking me questions about how I've been and telling me all about his training sessions this week which is how I know he's really missed me as he doesn't stop talking which is so cute. He didn't stop talking until he stopped the car outside a mini golf place which we've both seen but never been to.

On one of our first dates we went mini golfing which was so fun even though I lost but this time I'm determined to win. Alejandro paid despite my protests that I should be making up for ignoring him the whole week. It was only then that we realised this place wasn't just normal mini golf some of the holes look incredibly complicated which we just had to laugh at as we are going to do so badly. The first few holes were not too bad and I even got a hole in one which I was very proud of but then it all got so much more complicated there was even a hole where you had to get the ball up a wall and over the other side to the hole. Ale managed it quite easily but I just couldn't get it right so he stood behind me and put his hands over mine to help me get the swing and the power right. After that he kept coaching me on how to do each hole after he figured it out so I didn't lose too badly but by the time we finished the course Ale beat me comprehensively.

I thought we'd go back to my place after that but Ale said he had a few more things planned so we got back in the car and ended up at the bowling alley which was actually where we went on our first date and then on our first anniversary so it's one of my favourite places to go as it has so many good memories. The last time we went it was with some of the team and their girlfriends and I was actually quite good but I think that's only because I was determined to beat Gavi as he tried to say he was the best and my competitive side came out. I did end up beating him with the help of the other guys all trying to distract him which he was not happy about but everyone else thought it was funny.

After losing at mini golf I wanted to beat Ale so badly so I thought I'd employ the same tactic that worked on Gavi. Just talking to him didn't work though he was still able to focus enough to keep getting strikes so instead I had to play dirty. Each time before his turn I made sure to kiss him just enough to distract him then when he walked back over wanting more I walked away I also kept flirting with him which isn't something I usually do in pubic so it caught him off guard. In the end I won not by much but I won which gave me such a rush that I got the inspiration I needed to finish my project.

"I didn't know you could play dirty like that I feel betrayed" Ale said when we got back to the car

"I'm sorry but after you thrashed me at mini golf I had to win" I said

"You're lucky you're cute or I'd be call you a cheater but I'll let you off as long as you give me a kiss" he said

"That sounds like a fair trade to me" I said

I gave him his kiss that he wanted plus a few more before he was satisfied and drive us both back to my place. When we got there he planned to leave me to finish my project but I actually wanted him to come inside as I think I can finish it and I want to run over it with Ale before I submit it. He was happy to spend more time with me and we made an agreement that once I was done we'd have a chill afternoon and evening together and order food as a celebration which motivated me even more.

After not seeing anyone all week and now spending the whole day with Ale I didn't want him to leave my side so I sat in his lap with my laptop so I could sit and work while he had his arms around my waist. Getting out the house really helped clear my mind so now that I'm looking at it all again the ideas are flowing non stop so the last 1000 words I needed to write came so easily. When I had read through everything to check all the spelling I was finally ready to read it to Ale who was looking at me like he was listening but I know him better than that and in reality he wasn't listening at all he was just staring at my face.

"What do you think is it ok?" I asked

"It was great you're going to get an amazing grade on it" he said

"Were you actually listening?" I questioned

"Of course I was" he said

"It looked like you were just staring at me" I said

"I was doing that too how can I not stare at my beautiful girlfriend but I promise I was listening too and it was great you are so smart" he said

"Thank you but I think you deserve some credit I'd still be stressing about it if you hadn't taken me out to clear my mind" I said

"What can I say I just know what you need without you having to tell me” he said

“And that is why you are the best boyfriend” I smiled

“I already knew that but it’s nice to hear you say it” he joked

Once I pressed submit on the project Ale made me put my laptop away and we decided together in what food we wanted to order before putting a movie on to have the most relaxing evening together.

#alejandro balde x reader #alejandro balde imagine #alejandro balde #football imagine

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wings-of-fire-confessions · 1 year ago

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saw the confession on jerboa and i wanna be honest. i agree. the whole "get rid of animus magic" is stupid, plot wise, but you gotta at least realize the fact the poor dragon suffered as a toy at the hands of an animus dragon she was forced to call her mother. it's messed up to be hit with the bombshell that you were never real, never supposed to exist, and when you were given that chance, you were changed and rewritten hundreds of times to "be the perfect child" as if you were some character in a draft for a book or something

also, i've reread her enchantment a few time and forgive me if im wrong, but animus magic still is possible. and i don't just mean with all the spells that have already been cast, i meant with the way she worded it. she simply nullified the current magic from all currently alive animus dragons. she didn't completely take it away from them like darkstalker did with turtle, so it seems it's still possible for animus dragons to exist, as long as they hatched afterward, which is likely.

on another note, animus magic was way cooler when it actually had a threat behind it. like if every spell cast a dragon did indeed lose parts of their soul. the whole "it's the motives that make the dragon evil" makes sense and does open doors for a lot of things, i still lean toward the whole "the bigger the spell, the bigger the cost" type of thing

#wings of fire confessions #wof confessions #wof #wings of fire #animus #animus magic

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frikatilhi · 2 years ago

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Sometimes I think about how both Jere and Bojan (and other guys) have incredible memory. It takes so much daily practice and talent to be able to remember so many songs for live performances, I could never ever.

And because they have such good memory, they remember everything about each other too 🥺 idk this does things to my heart.. They're not together but at least they have their solid memory to rely on I guess?

Interesting! I would think that remembering the lyrics to your own songs, ones you have written and rewritten and practised and recorded, with hundreds of repetitions along the way, is probably actually not that hard. I remember the lyrics to dozens or hundreds of songs, probably, the more I've trained them the longer they stick. And the music helps to remember the lyrics as well, a lot. So it's not like an acting situation where you have to memorize someone else's words in probably a very short amount of time?

But I'm not a professional musician, obviously, so I don't know?

I don't think being able to remember all those songs helps that much in remembering other things, like Nace's name or which language ljubav is or things like that. 😘 It also doesn't correlate with language abilities, necessarely, Bojan is an outlier adn should not have been counted.

But as for the other part, yes, obviously, they have these vivid memories of each other: sights, sounds, scents, sensations, tastes. Something simple can trigger a very detailed memory of a hot june night or crisp september morning where every word said seems to carry the weight of the world and imprint on your subconscious forever.

or something idk

#did i take that way too seriously #ask

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rayless-reblogs · 2 years ago

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For the author ask game, 5 and/or 11?

5: How do you know when a story is "done"?

Hm, that's a good one... I've often started projects without a strict outline, but I don't think I've ever gone into a long project not knowing how it ends. But that's not quite what the question is.

Even if you know exactly how things are ending, there's still the question of "When have I written enough?" And I definitely have trouble with endings! Like I said last week or so, I want a story to have closure, but I never want it to feel too pat. Having an ending too wrapped up and perfect feels very artificial to me, and I enjoy some elements of ambivalence and ambiguity even as things close -- this issue wasn't resolved ideally, this thing could still happen, A was solved but B was a byproduct of it. The fanfic-writer in me likes the idea of fairly open endings, because that gives the reader room to speculate and put their own interpretation on events.

I think for me, the ending comes when I feel like the mood is right. Obviously I need to clear up everything the story requires to be cleared up, but after that I want to make sure the tone feels right, then I can hopefully land on a memorable closing line and make my exit.

With Eola, the most recent book, I struggled with its ending for literal years. I wasn't sure what was bothering me about it except that in some vague way, I didn't know if it was enough. Without outside help, it can be hard for an author to figure out if a feeling like this is a real problem, or is it the usual creative angst of your work not living up to the unattainable ideal you saw in your head? Unfortunately, there's no measuring cup you can pour your story into to make sure all the measurements are right.

I remember talking about it to a friend whose writing sense I really trust, and they reminded me about climaxes and how somewhere, whatever's happening, the protagonist needs a moment of choice and agency. Looking back over Eola's climax, I realized I hadn't done that, meaning that not only was my protagonist's arc weaker, the climax didn't offer much catharsis, so overall there wasn't a very strong sense of the story even ending. So I went back to the climax and beefed it up.

When it came to Eola's epilogue, I'd rewritten it many times. I'd added and subtracted details, but never entirely changed the ending itself, and I'd always felt discontented with it. But because I went back a step and improved the climax, it improved the ending too. Which made me feel better about setting it down and saying, "Okay, this is done."

So the best I can say is -- it's done when it feels done? That's not useful, I know. Someone needs to invent that measuring cup. The mathematical side of writing the ending is making sure you've covered all the narrative beats you want to. But the non-mathematical, emotional side is ending when it feels right.

11: What punctuation do you love too much?

This is embarrassingly easy. The long hyphen, the em dash. I don't know why it started, or exactly when, but I do remember one of my high school teachers remarking to me, "I liked hyphens a lot at your age too." Well, I'm sorry, Mrs M, but I'm not that age anymore and I'm still drowning in hyphens. I'm making a conscious choice not to use any at this exact moment, but they fly in like darts most of the time.

I think part of it is that the em dash feels more expressive than a comma. If I write, "The Boxer heard a sound behind him, the evil pitterpat of Asher's cat," that works fine dramatically. The comma provides an adequate dramatic pause as you read. But ninety-nine times out of a hundred, I'm going to write, "The Boxer heard a sound behind him -- the evil pitterpat of Asher's cat." For me, it simultaneously pauses the reader for that dramatic beat and rushes them along, adding tension and energy.

And that's fine as far as it goes. But it goes too far. I will also throw that em dash into dialogue, and character descriptions, and onto the ends of paragraphs, and if I'm feeling really saucy, onto the front of paragraphs.

Reading my stuff over, I start to feel ridiculous. There's always a stage where I go through and try to kill as many em dashes as I can stand, making them boring little commas (ugh) or breaking lines into shorter sentences/fragments. Anything to stop there from being an Overdramatic Em Dash in literally every paragraph.

Maybe I haven't actually answered the question. Maybe I don't love the em dash. Maybe it's my greatest enemy.

Thanks for the asks!

Meme here.

#writing #editing #meme #em dash

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ratralsis · 2 years ago

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Parting Words

Today I want to write a little bit about the parting words of yet another video game character I like.

Parting words, of course, are pretty important. It's the note you go out on, so you want to make sure it's a good one! Everybody will remember if the last thing you say is something stupid. You have to say something cool and memorable.

The Final Fantasy series has a lot of recurring characters. Mog the moogle, for example. But it's generally understood that it's a different Mog every time you meet him, in the same way that it's a different Cid. Similarly, it's generally understood to be a different Shiva, though she's always a big ice woman. Odin and Ramuh might even talk to you in FF4 or FF9, but I think most people understand that the Odin and Ramuh you meet in FF6 are different characters entirely who happen to share the same names and similar character designs.

There may be multiple exceptions to this rule, but there's only one whom I, personally, care about: Gilgamesh, from Final Fantasy 5.

Gilgamesh is a boss character you fight multiple times in Final Fantasy 5, but you don't meet him until you're quite a ways into the game. Still, he's instantly memorable. He's a big, goofy brawler of a man who rushes into battle because he's employed by the game's big bad and he's going to stop you from doing whatever it is you're doing. Your first battle against him takes place on a big bridge. The song that plays when you fight against him is called ビッグブリッヂの死闘, or "Biggu Burijji no Shitou," and if you didn't catch that, "Biggu Burijji" is just the English phrase "Big Bridge." "Shitou" means "life or death struggle," so the song is generally called "Battle at the Big Bridge," or "Clash on the Big Bridge," or something like that.

That's Gilgamesh's song. It's been remixed and rewritten and performed a hundred different ways, all of them phenomenal. When you hear that song, you know Gilgamesh is coming. You're going to have to fight him.

Gilgamesh is defeated multiple times in FFV, and eventually the big bad decides that it's time to throw Gilgamesh into the void between dimensions. But that's okay. Gilgamesh won't let something like that stop him. He comes back for one final scene shortly before the end of the game.

But in the meantime, Gilgamesh explores various worlds. Gilgamesh shows up in other Final Fantasy games. It's not really necessary for me to list all of his appearances, and I'm honestly not sure that every single appearance of his is "canonical," that is, if they're all meant to be this same guy. His appearance in one of the rereleases of FF6 as an Esper, for example, doesn't really square with what we know about him in FF5. Dude isn't an Esper. He's just a dude. Magicites are made of dead Espers. Gilgamesh isn't dead.

But I think it's safe to say that, when he made his first appearance outside of FFV in FF8, that's meant to be the same man. I like to think it's the same man in FF12 (voiced by John "Jake the Dog" DiMaggio, no less), as well, but, again, I can't really prove that. I can't prove anything.

And I don't have to. It's not really the point.

The point is that, eventually, no matter how many games he may or may not have shown up in before making his way back to FFV (and the list can only grow from here), he does make his way back.

He interrupts a battle against a boss called the Necrophobe, or Necrophobia, if you prefer. I kind of do, since that's what it's called in Japanese, but it's possible that the one who named him didn't really know what that word meant. I've heard that the summon spell Odin got its name almost entirely at random, for example, and it wouldn't shock me if the same were true of a lot of other things in Final Fantasy. Gilgamesh himself, for example.

Gilgamesh doesn't have to interrupt the fight. You can avoid this scene if you play the game the right way, but I would call that playing the game the wrong way. You should see Gilgamesh's final appearance.

He makes it clear that this is his big return, and that he couldn't let himself go down in history in such an uncool way as simply having been banished. The Necrophobe says he'll deal with Gilgamesh, and Gilgamesh taunts him, saying something like "Do you really think you can defeat me, Gilgamesh?"

But then he speaks to each member of the party. He tells Krile that her grandpa was strong. He tells Faris that he thinks she should try falling in love and be more feminine (which is a really weird thing to say, I think). He tells Lena that he hopes she never forgets her kindness to animals and her gentle heart. And he tells Bartz that he wishes he'd been able to have a one-on-one fight against him, and that Bartz has some good friends.

The Necrophobe ends this farewell speech by shouting at Gilgamesh to die. Gilgamesh replies with his final words:

それは！こっちのセリフだぜ！！

And then he casts the Blue Magic spell, Self-Destruct, killing both himself and the Necrophobe. And that's that. That's the end of Gilgamesh.

Now, I'm willing to give my own half-assed translation of most of Gilgamesh's dialogue, but not his final words. So here's the detailed translation, instead:

それ: That. Pronounced "so-re." Companion of "This" and "That over there." Refers to something a little far away from the speaker, for example, something that another speaker has just said.

は: Years ago, a Japanese tutor of mine referred to words like this as "postpositions," but they're usually just called "partciles." This one, pronounced "wa" even though it uses the letter for "ha," marks the word that came before it as the subject of a sentence. So now we know that the previous "That" is the subject of Gilgamesh's final sentence.

！: An exclamation mark. Despite it generally being used to end a sentence, here, Gilgamesh is just using it like a very loud comma. He's pausing mid-sentence. He's shouting.

こっち: Pronounced "ko-chee," with a glottal stop where that hypen is, so it's romanized as "kocchi." Means "this direction," and is companion of "that direction" and "that direction over there." Generally, "this direction" means "towards the speaker," so if you were to tell someone "Come this way," you would be telling them to move towards you, the person saying it. In this case, it refers more abstractly to Gilgamesh's side of the conversation, rather than to his physical location.

の: Another particle, this one, "no," is a marker of possession. That is, "this way," or "my side of the conversation," owns the thing that is going to come next in the sentence. See also "Biggu Burijji no Shitou" and how I seem to be implying that it means "Big Bridge's Life or Death Struggle." Let's not dwell on that, because the finer points of why it doesn't really don't matter here.

セリフ: "Serifu," which is a Japanese way of writing the word "serif," which means "line." While in English, this refers to little markings on written letters, in the Japanese language, it also refers to lines in a script, or lines of dialogue. "こっちのセリフ," then, means "my line."

だぜ: Pronounced "da ze," this is a verb followed by a particle. The "da" part is a short form of the verb "to be," conjugated to refer to "my line." The "ze" part is just something to add emphasis. We use phrases like "the heck" in English to do the same thing.

！！: Not just one, but two exclamation marks end this sentence.

If you put it all together, what Gilgamesh is saying before he blows up, his response to the Necrophobe shouting "DIE!", is:

"THAT! IS MY LINE!!"

And then he blows up.

This is actually something of a set phrase in Japanese. You can find it easily in many places if you Google it. I know, because I did! And you can, too! It's easy! Easy and cool, and you should do it!

So Gilgamesh isn't saying anything unique here. Or special. It's something that lots of folks have said. But it doesn't change the fact that he said it. And then he stuck around in the zeitgeist of Final Fantasy for decades. People love this goofy bastard, and I'm one of them.

When I hear the song "Battle at the Big Bridge," I'm known to sometimes tear up thinking about just how cool Gilgamesh is. That's not even a joke! I love this silly sometimes-multi-armed guy! I didn't even get into that part of it! Sometimes he has extra arms just so he can hold more weapons! AND I love his song!

I've said it before and I'll say it again: the best thing you can ever do, as a writer, is to write as hard as you can. Write something sincere, and earnest, and don't apologize or hold back. You've got a joke character? A recurring minion of the big bad who has no plot significance beyond being a guy you fight several times? Write that bastard for all you've got. Give him everything. Don't back down. Don't make it multiple characters for all those boss fights, even though you could have. Don't worry about overdoing it. Overdo it.

People will remember.

#ratralsis writing #text post #long post #gilgamesh #rpff

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cosmic-conundrums · 4 years ago

Text

Someone is singing on the Castleway. Now, this would typically be considered a fairly ordinary occurrence, if not for the fact that the singing is rarely being done by the corpses.

Passing through all four central kingdoms as it does, the Castleway is used for a multitude of purposes, not least among them the punishment of traitors and criminals. The lesser ones, generally. Those of import are most often dealt with personally by those they have wronged, and often with a certain flair and originality befitting their crimes. But for most, the Castleway is where they face their retribution, though it is sometimes considered more than they deserve.

The road itself is a patchwork of hard-packed dirt, cobbled stone, and tough wooden slats, depending on where you stand. As borders and rulers have changed, so too has the Castleway, going through countless damages and repairs until it is unrecognizable from the wide earthy trail it was in the early days. It is still wide, of course, wide enough to fit three full-size wagons side by side. And it is busy. The people flow like fish through a river, on carts and horses, in groups and as one; shouting, talking, laughing. Trading amongst themselves, breaking off old relationships and forging new ones, gathering fame and fortune and everything in between, all in the course of one journey. One can learn more about the world from following the Castleway than from any storyteller or newscarrier in the realm, it is said.

None of this is entirely relevant to this particular tale, however, or at least not quite so relevant as the stakes.

The stakes, referred to as ‘the Judge’s fingers’ by the general populace, line the Castleway on the left side. Heavy wooden stakes, as big around as trees, taller than even the most towering of persons, driven into the ground, each through a small wooden platform. They are spaced out irregularly along the path, so it is nigh impossible to guess how close one’s proximity will be to the next (nigh impossible only when considering the factor of luck. Remove that and it is simply impossible to guess).

These Judge’s fingers are where the aforementioned traitors and criminals face their retribution. To be sentenced to the Castleway is to be sentenced to either a slow, excruciating demise or a merciful release, on the whims of the Judge Eternal and Final. It is to be cruelly and brutally abandoned, to have the strings cut on your control over your fate. It is to be tied to a stake by the side of the road, and left there; handed over to the gods and the elements. Most die after only a couple of days. Brought down by starvation, storms, fires, the savagery of beasts or humanity. There are endless forms of death waiting on the Castleway. It is simply a matter of which one gets to you first.

There are not always occupants of the fingers, but it is often safe to assume that there will be one or two watching you as you pass by, eyes bright with anger or dark with despair. Some will shout, some will beg, some will cry. Some will say nothing. Most are already too dead to make a sound. This one, however, is singing.

It’s an unfamiliar song, the tune high and haunting, the voice sweet and rough, like crystallized honey. And it is ruining Ridley’s day.

It is incredibly bothersome to have your entire life’s purpose usurped by a corpse that refuses to die or shut its mouth. Alright, Ridley supposes, that’s a bit dramatic. But drama, as well, is a piece of what he was born to do, and at this particular moment he is having a disastrous time attempting to do it. The song on the breeze has a nasty habit of throwing him off his own melody, and every attempt to drown it out is met with new fervor from the singer. It’s frustrating as all hell, and Ridley has yet to see the face of his foe, which only stokes his ire further. He keeps his eyes on the fingers, scanning the expressions of those both alive and dead, watching their lips to see if they move. He wants to look upon the one who is ruining his day… and perhaps punch them. He hasn’t quite decided yet.

He’s nearly given up on trying to locate the singer and decided to push on and ignore the irksome voice, when he sees them. He can’t quite see the figure’s mouth moving from his vantage point a ways down the road from them, but he knows it’s them upon first sight. It can be no one else.

The figure stands tall and proud, despite being tied to a stake and the fact that they appear to be no more than five and a half feet of height. Unlike the others, they hold their head high, not a hint of defeat shown. As he gets closer, it becomes clear to Ridley that the figure is smiling as they sing, a soft, smirking grin, as if they know something everyone else does not.

Up close, Ridley can make out the words on the sign nailed into the post above the singer’s head. The letters are a slash of sanguine paint on dark wood, but they are easy enough to interpret: This man is sentenced to the Judge for heresy and refusal to submit to arrest.

The heretic himself is slight of build, with the type of lean muscle that comes from working with a weapon. His features are sharp yet fine, as though delicately cut from a rough stone; pointed chin, high cheekbones, distinctly sloped nose. There is a pale smattering of freckles across said nose and cheekbones, standing out prominently in the brilliant sunlight. His eyes glitter silver with humor and defiance, the expression turning their swampy grey color to radiance. His lashes are unusually long and dark, giving those eyes a captivation that is difficult to look away from. His hair, an auburn reminiscent of leaves in the falling season, falls just to his shoulder in the slightest of waves. He is dressed in the simple white shirt and leather breeches granted to prisoners, but he manages to make them look like the garb of a prince.

He continues to sing as Ridley watches, despite how he must have noticed the other standing there. He doesn't give any indication, however. Ridley folds his arms and glares, a challenge waiting to be met. The singer's eyes flick to him briefly, and he lifts an eyebrow in… invitation, it almost seems like. Well, Ridley’s not about to let that opportunity go.

With a flourish, the bard twirls around and deposits himself on the wooden platform at the base of the stake. He makes himself comfortable, crossing one leg over the other with pointed elegance. He flicks his eyes up to the heretic and attempts a scowl, and is met with absolutely nothing in return. So it’s going to be like that, is it? I see. Well, two can play at that game.

Two, as it turns out, cannot play at that game. The heretic continues to sing, and the song continues to distract Ridley in all his attempts to drown it out. To be honest, the bard isn’t exactly sure what he had intended to do here. He has a habit of making decisions like this, taking action without even considering what action to take.

The song never seems to end, the verses carrying on and on until Ridley nearly becomes convinced that it’s the only song he will ever hear again. No matter how intently he listens, he cannot for the life of him figure out the language. The words flow like a river, the vowels rolling like waves and the consonants crashing on the shore. It fits beautifully with the singer’s voice, Ridley has to admit, the slightly rough tone adding an unexpectedly welcome contrast to the smooth melody. The tune is just begging for a harmony.

Damn my nature, Ridley thinks as he begins to hum, testing the notes until he finds the ones that fit, turning the heretic’s song into a duet. He can’t follow along with the words, but the rest of it is easy enough to pick up. He sings loudly, lifting his voice up to carry along the Castleway. He’s always had a powerful voice, it’s one of the qualities that determined his prowess as a bard from a young age. There had been people listening to the heretic’s song from the start, but once Ridley joins in, more and more heads turn as they pass on the road, and some even stop to listen. Mostly families, dragged over to the side of the road by young children captivated by the music. Some merchants stop by, nodding gently along to the tune before moving along on their path. A group of soldiers for hire scowl at them as they pass, and Ridley scowls back. He’s never much liked soldiers. There’s another bard that stops as well, and performs an elegant dance for the heretic, bowing at the end before skipping away, humming the tune as she does so. And there’s an oddly pale figure, with strange colorless eyes and silvery hair despite its apparent youth, who stays longer than the rest, standing before the platform with its head cocked to one side, a mysterious glimmer in its eyes. The heretic ignores it, but Ridley stares right back at the figure, taking in its expensive clothing and well-groomed facade. It met his eyes with a cool, amused gaze, as unbreakable as stone. Now, Ridley may have a strong voice and a stronger will, but he folds under that gaze. He lowers his eyes as the figure smirks and walks away, strolling as though it has all the time in the world.

Not long after that, the song ends. The heretic’s voice trails off into the wind, and he closes his eyes, tilting his head back against the rough wood of the stake he is tied to. He appears… peaceful, content. It’s not an expression one would expect to see on the face of someone condemned to death, but then again it has already become clear that this someone is not much like the others.

“Thank you,” the singer says as Ridley is preparing to rise to his feet and leave, feeling silly and a bit embarrassed over what he has just done. Ridley startles. “For what?”

The heretic opens his eyes and smiles. “You made it beautiful.”

He’s talking about the song, Ridley realizes. “It was beautiful before,” he says in response. “Without me.”

“Not nearly as much,” the heretic points out. Ridley finds himself blushing faintly, proud of himself. “Well, you know, it comes with being the most famous bard and storyteller on this side of the four kingdoms.”

“Famous?” the heretic quirks an eyebrow. “Are you really?”

Ridley shrugs. “Probably. More famous than you, I’d bet.”

“Well, that would be because I am infamous, my small singing friend.”

Ridley has to bite down on his lip until he draws blood to keep himself from bursting out indignantly at being referred to as small. “I suppose that makes sense, you being a heretic and all.”

The heretic cocks his head, the light catching on a set of tiny ragged scars just around the edges of his mouth, mostly faded. “Is that what they call me? Heretic?”

“It’s not a very pretty name,” Ridley agrees. The heretic grins, the pale scars stretching. “I prefer Faraday,” he says.

“Now that is a pretty name,” Ridley bends over and plucks a pristine white daisy from the patch growing around his feet. “Faraday. Day. Daisy. Faradaisy. Can I call you Daisy?”

Without waiting for an answer, the bard plucks a few more of the flowers and begins weaving them into a crown. “So, Daisy, if you are not a heretic, what then are you?”

Faraday hmms in thought, tilting his head back against the wooden stake once again. “I am someone who believes,” he says, softly yet firmly.

“Is that not what we all are, at heart?” Ridley points out. He isn’t looking, but he can hear the heretic’s laughter. “I suppose you would call me a prophet, then,” Faraday confesses.

A prophet. Interesting. “I find that prophets and heretics are often the same, depending on who you ask.”

That laugh again, a shockingly harsh sound. “You speak true. Unusual for a storyteller, in my experience.”

“Many stories are true,” Ridley bites back, defensive.

“Many are not,” Faraday returns. Ridley huffs, defeated. He turns back to his daisy crown, but the silence quickly begins to bother him.

“You know, you’re in surprisingly good spirits for someone sentenced to death,” he says, forcing himself to remember the situation the other is in. Don’t get attached, Riddles. But if Faraday hears the bitterness in his tone, he doesn’t show it.

“Oh, I’m not going to die,” the prophet replies, confident as a king. Ridley whirls around to frown at him, doubtful. Faraday smiles brightly, tilting his head away from Ridley so the hair falls back from his throat, revealing another scar, this one thick and fairly recent, judging by the clear visibility of the stitches holding the flesh together.

“I have been sentenced to death too many times to count,” he explains softly, his rough honeyed voice falling uncharacteristically flat. “And not once has it killed me. Why should this be any different?”

“Gods,” Ridley chokes out, openly staring. He’s never seen a scar like that. He’s never seen a wound like that. He hadn’t thought anyone could survive something like that, let alone come out of it walking and talking and singing, for Executioner’s sake. “What did you do?”

“To make the world want my head on a platter?” Faraday sighs. “Well, that’s quite simple. I killed their gods.”

I killed their gods. I killed their gods. I killed their gods.

“Well,” Ridley says simply, sounding a few shades more hysterical than he had intended, “that would do it.”

Faraday nods, a slight acknowledging dip of the head, and turns his face to the horizon, his eyes sparkling in the light of the setting sun. “They are dead,” he says again, more to himself than to anyone else. “Whether they fell by my hand or another’s, I cannot say. But I know. I have stood upon their graves. I know.”

Ridley studies him, attempting to work through the puzzle that is Faraday the condemned. The prophet is sincere, that fact is as clear as day. Insane, but sincere. I am someone who believes, he had said. Someone who believes… Someone who believes.

It would be better if I left him here to die, Ridley thinks to himself. It would be the best thing to do. To most, it would be the only thing to do. But Ridley is someone who believes as well. Believes in hearing the full tale, in seeing it through to the end no matter how many tavern patrons or bored lords are screaming at him to quit the racket. There’s a song here. I can feel it.

Faraday startles when Ridley begins sawing at his bonds with his small dagger. “What are you doing?”

“You have a story,” Ridley babbles, justifying his actions to himself as much as to Faraday. “There’s something- I think there’s a story here. Something good. Something to make a legacy out of. I’m not- It can’t end here. I don’t think it’s supposed to.”

Faraday watches him, a slow, genuinely delighted smile crossing his scarred lips. “I never thought anyone would tell my story,” he says, and the soft surprise in his voice awakens a twinge of pity in Ridley. “I don’t see why not, it’s bound to be an adventure. I’ve always wanted to go on an adventure, you know?”

The ropes fall away in a slithery heap, landing in a puddle at Faraday’s feet. The prophet steps away from the stake, stretching his arms wide and throwing his coppery head back so the light shines full in his face. Now that his hands are free, the thick bands of scar tissue around each wrist are clearly visible, indicating countless bindings and chainings. He looks like a saint, standing there scarred, dressed in the simplest of clothing, long hair lifting in the wind. He looks like a king. He looks like a mistake waiting to be made.

When he has finished soaking up the last of the sunlight, Faraday bends to collect the crown of daisies Ridley had made. He places it on his head as reverently as he would a crown. “It suits you,” Ridley tells him. Faraday smiles, but it quickly falls as he glimpses the sign hung over his stake.

“They called me a man,” he mutters. “I do not like being called a man.”

“I understand that,” Ridley sighs. “I’m not always a man either.”

Faraday lingers on the sign a moment more, before turning on a heel, as fluid as a dancer, and strides off down the Castleway. He picks up his earlier song again, belting it loud to the heavens and the core of the earth. Ridley shakes his head as he follows, wondering what in the name of the Judge, Jury, and Executioner he has just gotten himself into.

At least it will be an adventure.

#I WROTE. WORDS #A FIRST DRAFT OF A CHAPTER OF ME EPIC FANTASY NOVEL #there are parts of it i don't like and i've rewritten them hundreds of times but can't get it any better than this. oh well :/#but i wanted to introduce y'all to faraday >:}#writing #my writing #novel #fantasy #fantasy novel tag #elia faraday #tristain ridley #ocs #my ocs #original characters #original writing

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mdhwrites · 2 years ago

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Considering you are a fanfic writer and having issues with Owl House, did you ever consider possibly making a rewrite fanfic of Owl House?

Okay so A: I have both the Crow House and Little Miss Rich Witch that could be seen as that. However... Both of those works were started and conceptualized as celebrations of what I liked about The Owl House with tweaks that made them able to be more to my style and interests. Despite Crow House being a swap AU, I didn't bring attention to how Boscha's strength is actually a problem for her. Actually hurts people. I just used what is Willow's defining trait in my opinion to amplify Boscha's aggression and make it a tragedy. For Rich Witch, I literally made less than three weeks I got into the fandom because I liked themes I was playing with but canon straight up got in the way or was a little too unclear for certain aspects to be explored fully in Power of Love despite just how large that story was and was going to be. One of those big aspects was Amity's friends so Azu's relationship with her friends, especially Igni who is the stand in for Boscha, is important to the story and so is her becoming a better friend and person in general.

B: Frankly I think a straight rewrite of TOH from me would look a lot like like The Power of Love, especially as it was written before S2 mostly so was playing with the potential of the characters before that potential was damaged irrevocably, but even more bloated so as to include things like the introduction of the world, extending Amity's arc out more, including Eda and King some more, etc. like that. Part of this is because, as I've talked in the past, you can't really change a lot about TOH without losing its core identity. Would you recognize something as TOH without Hexide? Without Eda and King and their plot (which is Rich Witch effectively with a main character swap)? It is way easier than you think it is to just make an entirely new story even with similar elements.

C: I... Just wouldn't want to. I HATE fix it fics and that's what most rewrites come down to. Making a different twist like a Swap AU, especially an extensive one, is different from a fix it fic but at this point I think a rewrite of TOH from me, at least in fanfiction form, would come as too angry. Include too many changes frankly so at best it would just be an original story that isn't written as well because I'm leaning on the elements that make fanfiction easier, or it's just my blogs but turned into a story that would very quickly turn into a giant circlejerk and I don't like doing that. The closest I've truly come to a fix it fic with TOH is that there's a chapter in Power of Love that I wrote right after Escaping Expulsion because I had to wash out the taste of canon Odalia with my Odalia. And even that kind of worked to show an Amischa moment, love between Amity and her mother and the stresses that becoming the new Emperor's Coven Head (something that never happens in the show and is a personal pet peeve of mine pretty severely), even with changes that led to Lilith also being the EC head again alongside Odalia, so it wasn't just bitter and angry even if those emotions fueled it at first.

D: It would never get finished. Not because of my normal mental health stuff but because I cannot write something I hate. A fix it story is always motivated by anger. That works for a one off or a single chapter. Honestly, it feels like some of the motivation for TOH where there's a very real feeling of "Wow, these writers just HATE the fantasy genre, don't they?" For how I write though, where I have to connect to my emotions genuinely, thus triggering my anxiety and depression half the time, anger can't last. Not for as long as a rewrite of TOH, a series that to be rewritten properly would take hundreds of thousands of words, probably over a million (guess how I long I think Rich Witch will be by the end of its run) and that is a long, LONG time to be angry. And it would bleed into the writing. The characters would be angrier. More easily upset. More volatile. It wouldn't be fun for ANYONE.

Hell, as a side note, I've explicitly said that it's not anger that fuels me to make all these blogs about TOH. It's that TOH is genuinely interesting to talk about and good for teaching. Yes, anger is what brought me here theoretically but I do try to be fair to the show because pure vitriol over and over again isn't useful for anyone, just pure praise isn't either.

E: Even if I did a strict rewrite, followed as much of the show as I possibly could... My writing style is just antithetical to the show. I talked about needing to tap genuinely into my emotions after all. That makes my writing INCREDIBLY sincere. I cannot half ass my writing much of the time. My worst chapters usually come from my brain going "Let's wrap this up because the characters actually wouldn't act like this or go the direction we originally planned so we'll need to figure something else out." This also leads to some of my best chapters I think but it's the exact opposite of TOH's meta commentary and shifting characters hard just to make a concept work. I could literally never write Wing it Like Witches because I WOULD NOT ever write that Amity, Luz, Eda and Lilith are ALL capable of being sports stars. That's too homogeneous and is actively against at least half of the character's cores that are involved.

It all effectively means that even if I tried to rewrite TOH, it would just come across as a distinctly different story. And if I'm gonna do that, I'd rather just throw off the shackles of the show entirely and write my own. Almost like I'm an original writer or something alongside my fanfic work.

===========

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead, If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

#toh criticism #the owl house criticism

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quirkychaoticraptor · 2 years ago

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Carmen Sandiego Thoughts

Ok, mostly really random, and I know I don't really get on Tumblr, anymore....

But, I've recently rewatched "Carmen Sandiego" on Netflix, mostly for a fanfic of mine that's now being rewritten. I totally thought there had been a season 5, but then again, I am an idiot, lol!

I gotta say, though...(spoiler alert for those of you who have not seen the show, yet) the last half of season 4 really disappointed me. Personally, I hate it when creators or show writers decide to just make the main character evil, especially out of the blue. I never grew up or watched the original "Carmen Sandiego", but I know that in the original, I think Carmen was evil. For the most part, anyway. Even so, in this reboot of "Carmen Sandiego", I didn't like what they did with her in the last half of season 4. That was just...very strange, and like I said, I personally don't like when main characters just suddenly turn evil.

I also didn't like that V.I.L.E. was so easy to take down when they're supposed to be...what, the most powerful evil organization on the planet? They had like, over a hundred operatives or something, and even the faculty members were supposed to be pretty powerful! Not just physically (Coach Brunt), but also mentally (Maelstrom). I feel like Cleo and Bellum would've been a combo of both, especially with Bellum's tools. Out of the four of them, I would've thought Maelstrom and Brunt to be the hardest to take down. But instead, every faculty member (except Shadowsan, of course) were so easily caught? What?!

Carmen being evil was just...pointless. It didn't even last very long, and there was nothing shown for it, other than a random time-skip. I just don't think it was very necessary.

About the Gray/Carmen thing.... I'm not much of a shipper, and I never shipped those two, together, anyway (honestly, if anything, Carmen and Julia being a thing would make more sense, but...ship whoever, I guess...just don't war over it, please). So, I'm not sure how to really feel about that, other than to me, it was just weird.

And if I remember, correctly, from the last time I watched the show's finale, Carmen just up and split with everyone? Ivy, Zack, Player...did Shadowsan go with her? And what about Carmen's mom? They never found her! Did they?! I don't quite remember....

Overall, I do think the last half of season 4 was very rushed (no thanks to Netflix probably pounding on the show's door to hurry things up or whatever...because it's Netflix), and I also think that yeah, there should have been a season 5, and made that the last season. I don't think I'll be rewatching season 4, again, if I'm being completely honest. I mean, first half of it was fine, and I liked the episode with Ivy/Dash Haber (I do ship them, sue me). But other than that, I think I'll be rewriting things for my fanfic or something.

Some people say that season 3 was pretty useless, but I don't know, I liked it. To me, the different shift in tone was nice, and giving the V.I.L.E. faculty a lighter side made me laugh. I don't know, maybe I'm just easily amused by that kind of thing. I don't really see anything wrong with the 3rd season...but, that's probably just me.

Anyway, those are my thoughts for today. If you agree with me, cool. If you don't, cool but please don't get at me for my opinions and feelings. Please, respect them.

Later!

#emjei squawks #random post #my thoughts #carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego season 4 #thoughts #feelings #my opinions #carmen sandiego netflix

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spikeface · 4 years ago

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hey, anon about stiles and liam here! no, please, give me your thoughts. i've rewritten this four times now trying to make it coherent, cause i don't write metas, i'm just here to vibe. season four feels like they tried to pack a hundred different overlapping storylines into twelve episodes. it feels rushed. when scott is a berserker and liam is trying to snap him out of it, it doesn't feel like anything. it doesn't feel like there's any special bond between them. it's just a beta trying to get to his alpha. liam explicitly says that he doesn't wanna be a part of this, but betas follow their alphas. as we hear from derek to the twins previously in the show, that's what betas do. in season five though (and i'm only four episodes in, so i could be wrong!) it's like every time that stiles turns around, you can pretty much expect liam to be there. scott seems to give liam werewolf-y advise, but stiles is the one he seems to have an actual friendship with. pun intended, but stiles is the one that liam is following around like a lost puppy. liam follows stiles into the woods to look for theo against scott's wishes, liam hops right in to help stiles with the jeep in a way that makes it seem like it's not the first time he's done it. "the adults are trying to have a conversation." - "okay, you're like two years older than me." even in season four, stiles was the one that could get through to liam and help him gain control on the way to mexico. they honestly seem like siblings to me. if i had stopped watching after season three, and someone sent me these scenes and told me that liam was introduced as stiles' long lost, secret brother, i would easily believe it.

Thank you for expanding, anon, and my apologies for taking so long to reply. You've brought up a lot of points here, so I'm going to try to respond to each of them briefly--there's a lot more to say about all of it!

I definitely agree that Season 4 was rushed, and suspect that part of the problem with that season overall was that it was written as 24 episodes, as season 3 was, and was then cut to 12. [Edited to add: turns out this isn’t true! It seems that S4 was, however, written and filmed extremely quickly, with almost no pause after S3, which gets us to the same place of feeling rushed].

I also really agree that Stiles and Liam have a sibling vibe, and liked this as a way that Stiles grows in season 4. At the beginning, he blurts out harsh truths about the possibility of Liam dying from the bite, and then appears flustered that he has made Liam cry. This is the first time Stiles has ever seen someone visibly, vulnerably upset by what he's said onscreen, even if Liam turns out to be faking, and I think that, though he remains the sarcastic little shit we all know and love, Stiles grows from the experience. By the end of the season, he thoughtfully tells (harmless) lies to Liam in an effort to help him control his shift.

The Alpha-Beta bond between Scott and Liam was also hard for me to get into at the beginning of season 4--in part because I simply wasn't ready for new characters, especially after the loss of Allison, one of my favorite characters, and Isaac, my favorite of Scott's Betas. I loved the way they did the Alpha-Beta bond between Scott and Isaac, and how, though we see moments where they have some sort of supernatural werewolf ~*connection*~, the two are also friends and teammates--even brothers, since they live together.

I would have happily taken more of that with Scott and Liam, but also respect that the show tried to do something different with that relationship. Like Scott and Isaac, Scott and Liam are also teammates, but the show moves away from that aspect of their relationship after Liam is bitten. Scott initially calls them "brothers," but that's not meant to be correct. The season is interested in what it means to be a werewolf, not a monster or a human, and tries to investigate the Alpha-Beta bond on its own terms.

Which is hard! I'd argue that it is a special bond, but it was definitely one that was harder for me to understand at first, because it's outside of the human experience and the show stresses it as such. The Stiles-Liam or Scott-Isaac bonds were a lot easier for me to relate to; many people unofficially adopt a younger sibling, or make friends with someone who believes in them. "Special wolf bond from a bite" is harder to parse. When Scott hugs Liam at the end of "Orphaned," I was touched, of course, by the worry and tenderness Scott shows there, but also disoriented by it. Scott is a caring and tactile person generally, but it was intimate--and not a hug between two people who are just friends, or teammates, or brothers. It's a hug between Alpha and Beta, an expression of the same bond that can call Scott back from the abyss of being a berserker, or drive him to defeat the man trying to destroy him and his pack.

It's also the bond that helps Liam decide to go to Mexico, though I might push back a little against the idea that Liam goes to Mexico just because "Betas follow their Alphas." Liam has several significant moments where he faces his fears, about the supernatural (especially the berserkers) and his own personal issues that pre-date the bite, and going to Mexico is part of that. The bond is also meant to be about more than obedience or blind loyalty, which I think the show stresses by having Liam be so (understandably) freaked out by and disinterested in Scott and everything he represents at first. Scott earns Liam's faith and friendship by being a good Alpha--including explicitly telling Liam that he doesn't have to follow him if he doesn't want to, in "Monstrous"--which is why Liam ultimately decides to help him.

The question of what the bond between Alpha and Beta means continues to be a theme of season 5. I suspect that by this point, you've watched more of that season, but just in case, I won't go into it now. I also think the season investigates Stiles' relationship with Liam, though it has more to do with Stiles' paranoia and how he handles it. Stiles has some fun sibling-type quips with Liam at the beginning that reflect their fraternal dynamic, but I see his scenes with Liam in "Parasomnia" as him taking advantage, a little bit, of the fact that, like you said, Liam will follow him around like a puppy, in order to stalk Theo.

To sum up, I agree that Scott&Liam's friendship is different from Stiles&Liam's, and I respect that the show made them different, and what they tried to do with Scott's relationship with Liam. The last thing I want to add is tangential to what you asked, anon, so forgive me for tacking it on, but I just want to stress that none of these relationships need to be in competition. Everyone will have their preferences about favorite characters, relationships, and dynamics, and liking one doesn't have to mean the others are insignificant.

#scott mccall #liam dunbar #teen wolf meta #teen wolf #long post #asks

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