#this ship name cracks me up and i will not take constructive criticism on it thank you x)

[porcelainfreak-zacrucian]

Why fix trash?

Just a lil comic, I gotta make more of those. Y'know, stop leaving AU ideas on one reference drawing and two keysmashes.

Can and should be interpreted as future TaGr. Or TaGf. TaGr+? Yeah fuck it I'm calling this TaGr+ idk. Will probably make a part 2. At least I hope I will x)

[merri-angry]

Revive-nch

Fandom: Lord of the Flies/LOTF

Part 1/1, a oneshot

Ship(s): a crack ship at the end

TWs: depressing thoughts, implied thoughts of s*icide/wanting to die, near violence

Note: feel free to give constructive criticism^^, especially when it comes to making characters more in character. Also, this was copied and pasted from a google doc so sorry if the formatting is weird

Word Count: 1,125

Summary: A classic, nonoriginal AU idea of "what if they never left the island?" Would someone die? Would rivalries be forgiven? Would Jack and Ralph kiss? Or would Ralph kiss the none existent conch instead?

Preview: Jack handed Revive-nch to Ralph. Ralph carefully held it. Tears filled Ralph's eyes. The first in a while. 

AO3 link(if you would prefer to read it there): https://archiveofourown.org/works/42478074

"Will we ever get off the island?" Ralph muttered to himself. The only thing that responded was the light rustle of leaves. It had been at least 2 years since Piggy died. Who knows, could've been even longer than that. Probably was, since he no longer heard the blood-curdling screams of feral children, and the effects of the fire were starting to heal. 

"Hopefully they think I'm dead," Ralph had begun to start saying some thoughts out loud. He didn't want his voice to fully dry up. Speaking of drying up… Ralph was currently walking towards a stream. He was close, he could tell by the familiar berry bush he occasionally ate from.

He knew eating from strange plants was dangerous, but he couldn't help but take the risk. He couldn't help but hope that the worst would happen. Even if it was painful, surely it wouldn't be the most depressing way to die.

"Maybe I should try to find Merridew's tribe," Ralph suggested to himself once he made it to the stream. Ralph cupped his hands and took quick gulps of water. After the refreshing drink, he decided to follow up with his suggestion. 

The walk to Castle Rock was far and very strange. It seemed almost too quiet as Ralph made his way to where the tribe would be. 

"Jack!" Ralph tried yelling, only to giggle at himself. How ridiculous of him- to be yelling out the name of an enemy. Ralph only hoped he was near since Jack would be more than willing to rid of him.

Once Ralph made it into Castle Rock, he frowned. There was no trace of any hunters- exception being a few sharpened sticks on the floor. Ralph sniffed the air, making himself giggle again. He was acting like a dog, smelling for the scent of their owner.

Or in his case, the smell of his demise.

Ralph turned around to leave, but before he did he heard the soft sound of footsteps. Ralph paused, and as seconds passed they got louder. From the way it sounded, there was one person in the lead followed closely by another. The rest were a blob of too many to tell how many people there were.

If the footsteps were of people. But it made sense, the footsteps were probably of the tribe. The first person Ralph saw was unexpected, but by the hair and eyes, he could tell it was Roger. He was honestly expecting Jack to be in the lead, but whatever. The moment Roger saw Ralph he froze for a second, letting out a loud shout.

"RALPH!" Roger ran towards him, sharpened stick in hand. Ralph did nothing, as he was pushed to the ground. Roger raised the stick but was stopped by a second voice.

"Roger, no!" The voice wasn't a shout, but it was firm. Roger paused to look at the other, debating if he should follow the order. Ralph could tell just by a look in his eyes. Ralph turned to see none other than Jack Merridew- plus a few others behind him.

"Chief, let me kill him!" Roger growled. Ralph prayed in his head for his end.

Jack took a few minutes to look at Ralph before responding, "no."

Ralph heard murmurs behind Jack and felt Roger hesitantly get off of him. Ralph was almost fully still, if it weren't for his breathing and heartbeat they would've assumed he died. Ralph heard footsteps approach him, ones that he assumed were Jack's.

"Get up," Jack demanded, but Ralph stayed still. What was the point of standing only to be knocked down, permanently this time? Ralph shuddered as he felt Jack try to force him onto his feat. Ralph sighed once he was standing up, and backed away from Jack. 

"You haven't changed much," Ralph smiled. While Jack kept a serious frown, Ralph could tell he was confused.

"I could kill you right now."

"Then do it," Ralph's voice almost became a growl and his response made the murmurs grow louder. Roger looked at the others and raised his stick threateningly. Before he was even finished with the threat, the others were quiet. 

"Where's the fun in that?" Oh, how the turn tables, now Jack had a wolfish grin. 

"You get to finally kill the person you probably hate the most," Ralph pointed out, only for Jack to whisper.

"That's already been done."

"Chief, what are we going to do with him?" Ralph recognized the voice of Henry. Jack turned to look at him.

"I will lead him somewhere private to talk. You guys go ahead with the feast, just leave some for us," Jack responded.

"Us implies he's coming back alive," Roger growled. Jack took a second to stare at Roger.

"For now," Jack said before motioning Ralph to follow. Ralph had nothing else to do, so he obeyed. The crowd moved to the side to let them leave, and as they walked down Ralph heard the excited yellings of children behind him.

"How many years have passed?" Ralph asked once they were just heading into the forest. "Since Piggy's…"

"At least 6," Ralph was surprised at the number.

"But… wouldn't we have changed more?" Ralph asked. Jack stopped to look at him.

"If you look close enough, yes. Though I can get how you would feel indifferent- probably living a vegan diet," Jack answered before continuing. 

"I-"

"Can you shut up until we're there?" Ralph had no idea where there was, but he immediately stopped talking. The walk wasn't too long, Ralph realized, once they made it to a familiar platform. The platform. "Sit near the edge of it."

Ralph raised a brow but followed his order. Jack disappeared for a moment before returning with a cursed object. A conch. 

"It looks like the one that was crushed," Ralph spoke his thought out loud.

"It is the same one, apparently it wasn't actually crushed- just a similar-looking shell," that probably doesn't make sense but lore doesn't care.

Jack handed Revive-nch to Ralph. Ralph carefully held it. Tears filled Ralph's eyes. The first in a while. 

"It's been so long since I've cried."

"Glad to know I caused it," Jack's reply made Ralph laugh. The silly willy.

"It's just as beautiful as the first day I saw it," Ralph smiled. Jack stayed quiet, trying to figure out what Ralph was doing. "Well, exception being that long white mark along it."

"Yeah, it may have gotten scratched," Jack reluctantly agreed. His face suddenly turned serious. "We should-"

Jack stopped once he saw Ralph kiss the conch, "what are you doing?-"

"What? Never seen a guy kiss a conch?"

"No, looks kinda gay."

"You're gay."

"Y-n-yes-no," Jack stuttered. Ralph smiled before kissing Jack.

.

.

.

Jack woke up.

[hurricaneonanesthesia]

Can I have a chamber request where the reader is the weapons expert/makes their own weapons in the valorant protocol. Chamber wants to know them, but every member cockblocks him cause they know use them for his personal gain when in reality he genuine wants to know more about them.

Hi there nonny! Thanks so much for the request!

Ah Chamber, the VP’s sussy yet attractive frenchman hehe. Hope you like this! I certainly had fun bullying Chamber in this /hj

~Admin Hurricane

Warnings: google translated french cause i dont know any french, im sorry LMAO and mentions of guns duh

Word Count: 600+

Genre: fluff, a little bit of crack

Pairing(s): Chamber x GN!Reader

He was frustrated, which was rather unusual for him. That being everyone in the protocol(well some more than others) trying to prevent him from “using you for his own purposes”

Chamber himself used to be a weapons designer so he finds himself in your workshop during his free time, assisting you, providing advice and/or constructive criticism, flirting with you

You yourself aren’t an agent in the protocol but you’re a fairly integral part of the organization. You’re one of the techies who hang back at the protocol, the person behind the whole scheme of things when it came to manufacturing weapons for the agents to take onto the field. Ghosts, Odins, Vandals, Phantoms, Marshals, you name it, you made it

The first time you and Chamber met, you had demanded to see his Sheriff and Op, immediately examining them to get some ideas for yourself to implement into the weapons you crafted.

This was when you snagged Chamber’s attention.

Yes, you weren’t particularly flashy or out there, but there was no denying how much attention to detail you put into each gun that you put together, each crafted with expert hands.

He wanted to know more about you, wanted to see what made you tick, what made you laugh, and much more

Aaand of course, he’s immediately shut out, the first reason being Cypher finding his clean background suspicious meaning that some other members of the protocol also didn’t trust him very much. Which he could understand, but he was annoyed by the fact that his interactions with you were limited.

Sure, he built the portal on the ship on Breeze, but that doesn’t mean he’s gonna try and blackmail you to help him build more stuff whaaaat?? Noooooo

But in all seriousness, he finds you genuinely intriguing and not just someone he could use to further his plans(whatever they are) along. He finds it amusing whenever you’re conversing with the other techies at the VP, whether it's getting Raze to stop blowing up your stuff, or stealing your stuff back from Cypher, or just vibing with Killjoy as her turret runs around, he finds you endearing.

Knocking on the door to your workshop, Chamber walked over, readjusting his sleeves upon spotting you hunched over your desk repairing a jammed gun. “Ah Y/N, tu es magnifique comme toujours! How are you doing today?” You blink at the sudden visitor, visibly relaxing upon seeing him, “Oh Chamber, it’s just you. Did you need something?” you ask setting down your tweezers and sitting up on the stool, “I know you’re not just complimenting me for the fun of it.” You teased. Chamber laughed lightly his hand resting against the desk, “Well, I was hoping maybe we could go over your latest creations and maybe I could give you some advice if you’re stuck, yes?” You open your mouth, but before you can respond, Cypher pokes his head in through the door. “Y/N there you are! I have been looking for you everywhere, come, I need some assistance in my workshop and you’re the perfect person to help me,” he said giving you barely any time to react as he pulled you up, leading you out of your room. “Wha- Cypher!” you protested, turning back to look at Chamber apologetically, “Sorry, looks like we’ll have to do this another time,” you waved to him, turning to Cypher with a scowl. For once, Chamber had lost his cool and was at a loss for words as he watched Cypher drag you away.

The next few times Chamber tried to get you to himself, he was once again halted, whether it was Brim suddenly calling you into his office, or Killjoy and Raze dragging you to an outing, he could never really get much time alone with you. This frustrated him to no end. For once, Chamber wasn’t able to get what he wanted, that being, you, and for the first time in a long time, he had no ill intentions towards someone. If only everyone else could see that.

Reminder that my requests are open! Be sure to send something my way if you’re interested! Requesting Rules are here!

Want more of my writing? Be sure to check out my masterlist :)

If you wanna request something, don’t be afraid to send something my way! Thanks for reading and have a lovely day!

Wanna know what else I’ll write for? Here you go! Just be sure to read the requesting rules before you send anything in.

[feitansluver]

Two Birds on a Wire (THE PROLOGUE)

a Feitan x Reader series (gender neutral)

Genre: romance, angst, fluff, smidge of violence

Series Summary: If you wish to see the series summary, check out my masterlist (which should be up now, if not just give me 10 mins) which you can access through my pinned navigations post on my blog. It might have a teensy bit of spoilers but nothing too drastic since this is a major wip.

Prologue Summary: This story's beginning takes place before the troupe was even a figment of anyone's imagination. Meteor City is a dangerous place, and many can vouch for me when I say this. The place where good deeds never come truly from the heart, but instead for the chance to get what you wanted from someone else. Here begins the story of how Feitan Portor and Y/n L/n would soon meet, for real this time.

Author's Note: This entire series is inspired by the song "Two Birds" by Regina Spektor. I originally wrote this as a small x reader for a writing sample, but I like it so much, it'll be a series instead. This is going to be a slow burn series. As you can tell from my headcanons, I'm super detailed when it comes to adding backstories. It's even worse w actual stories. I'm not too sure how many chapters this will be but, Please enjoy! reblogs, likes, and constructive criticism is appreciated. Heads up, this will be the shortest 'chapter' of them all, so do be prepared haha. Italicized = Flashbacks!

The aroma of decaying matter engulfed the air like a thick fog, pulling down and wrapping itself around the shiny newcomers to the rather large wasteland of an area. These newcomers weren't wealthy, no, instead, they were here for the ego boost that accompanied the action of them tossing any worthless item that would instantly be scavenged by a poor resident, usually a child since they were small and naturally agile. Well, as agile as they could be growing up eating other's waste. Those bastards with their sickening laughs of arrogance. They'd be frowned upon in a normal society, but here, oh here, this was just what they'd call a Wednesday.

Where exactly is 'here,' you may be asking? To the people passing through, they might've considered it to be hell. Perhaps a dumpster. Hell, they might have even passed through with out even noticing the cries of agony as a mother's child passed away from malnutrition, without noticing the way that no resident seemed to acknowledge anything other than themselves, even the murder of a shopkeep in broad daylight. No, see they're too focused on trying to steal to survive, perhaps even slave away to a more fortunate resident for a chance at life, if you could even call this living. 'Maybe they're just introverted people,' oh how naïve you must be to even succumb to that conclusion. 'Here' there is no such thing as introversion, with this trait, you won't survive for more than 10 minutes.

'Here' is none other than Meteor City.

Coughing could be heard around every corner from the ill, penniless residents who were selling everything in their possession just to survive another miserable day. A feeble attempt truly, it's not as though the medicine was at least 50% likely to cause some sort of change. Nonetheless, Meteor City wasn't too bad, no. Children scurried amongst each other, shouting with smiles upon their somewhat sunken faces as they played along the areas of the city that were truly wastelands. There were no true friends created in Meteor City, but these children have yet to understand.

All except for one. A rather small boy, whether that be from malnutrition or genetics, with black hair and heartless black eyes sat upon an old shipping crate with an uninterested look upon his young face as he watched the children run about. "How pedestrian," was all that came out of his cracked, dehydrated lips. Only an 8-year-old from Meteor would consider playing to be pedestrian. Aside from his shocking attitude, with one glance you could certainly tell he wasn't from here, such 'exotic' features couldn't have been bred in this hellhole. The boy was dressed in what seemed to be traditional Asian clothes, ones that were too big for his figure, all black and seemingly thick yet still lightweight enough to where he wouldn't die from a heat stroke, the word "Feitan" engraved over his left breast. Perhaps this was his name, neither he or the townsfolk new, but it was what they called him when they believed he wasn't looking. He was frequently seen mumbling to himself, and paired with his stone cold gaze, he was deemed "unapproachable" to others, adults and children alike.

"Hey, you!" A call from one of the children pulled Feitan out of his thoughts. The blackette raised his gaze to find another small child before him, taller yes, but no doubt younger, no stranger to his eyes yet not an aly. "My name's Marley. Do you want to play with us?" Feitan rolled his eyes in annoyance and spoke with his broken interpretation of the city's language. "Why would me want t-," He analyzed the other children beside the runt Marley and froze his gaze upon another small child, who was smiling as they spoke to a friend, one he's kept his eye on for a long time.

(Y/n) (L/n).

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

2 years ago, Meteor City, 3rd Person Omniscient

The sky boomed a thunderous roar as lighting flashed across the city. Purples and dark ominous grey's colored over the townsfolk as the rushed their preparations for the storm. Adults were sheltering children, even if they didn't know them, most likely with the promise of something in return, while also taking in whatever possessions they needed before the storm's condition worsened.

A 4-year-old child, Y/n, ran about the poorly made streets, hoping to find a place of shelter before it was too late. Of course, since they're small and malnourished, they weren't very efficient, constantly stumbling over their two feet and pausing to catch their balance.

"Please, somebody help me!"

They continued to run through the now damp streets as the rain began to pour violently. Water drenched the poor child as they ran around banging on doors screaming for help, yet still, no one listened. It was almost as though the entire town had become a ghost city.Just as Y/n was about to give up, a hand grabbed their arm harshly and quickly pulled them into a small, dark, poorly-made shack.

Y/n jumped back in surprise with a yelp only to be pushed down by the other party, quite roughly might I add. "Shhh." A firm, seemingly male voice commanded with no other words as he sat beside the younger child. "Are you going to eat me??" Y/n spoke in a panicked tone. "The old lady by the library told me a story about a demon who comes out during horrible storms and eats the children who are wandering the streets." They cried with their arms curled around their legs, staring at the silhouette in fear beside of them.

The strange savior huffed under his breath. Why did he even pull this idiot into his home. Who was he to be providing shelter for others when he could barely take care of himself? God he never hated himself more until that moment. There was no place for some snotty kid, nor did he want to deal with them either. "Me no eat you. you taste bad, too whiny." Was all the boy said, hoping to get the other to take the hint and shut up.

"O-oh. My name's y/n, what's yours?" The 4-year-old spoke, no longer carrying a fearful tone. The older boy rolled his eyes at how naïve and trusting the other was. He didn't bother answering, and in fact, he never said another word to Y/n for the remaining duration of the storm.

Y/n ended up falling asleep after a while from all of the chaos earlier. The silhouette eyed the child beside him before closing his own eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. Soft snoring was all that was heard by the boy, aside from the pouring rain that is. Falling into his thoughts, he began to drift off into a light, alert slumber. Well, he was until he felt a weight hit his left shoulder.

His eyes shot open as he looked to his left with a scowl upon his face. "Idiot pest." He grumbled agitatedly as he noticed Y/n had fallen asleep on his shoulder. As much as he wanted to push them off, he quite enjoyed the quiet he was now receiving. With an annoyed sigh, he closed his own eyes and drifted to his previous light sleep.

When Y/n awoke with a yawn and began to identify their surroundings, they almost screamed in fear and confusion. They jumped up and racked their brain for some sort of explanation. Wait, it was coming to them now: the mystery boy and him providing them shelter. Properly looking at their surroundings, they noticed were still in the shack; however, this time, they were alone. With a quick glance outside, the small child ran out of the shack, patting themselves down to make sure they still had their items in their pockets.

A sigh of relief escaped their lips as they felt everything there. Digging into their pockets to find their last bit of money to buy a bit of food, Y/n noticed there was a folded piece of poorly maintained paper in their pockets. With a confused hum and a head tilt, they unfolded the piece of paper and read in poor grammar and messy writing:

"You owe me, Brat."

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

They blackette's face remained in a deapan expression as his own eyes locked back with Marley's "Yes, me play." He spoke emotionlessly as he hopped down from his crate, dusting himself off as he began walking closer to the group of children. A handful of yays, yippees, and downright cries of joy could be heard from the crowd of children as they gathered one more player for their game. "Okay, great. So here's what we're going to play.."

The voices blurred and faded into nothingness as the eight-year-old fell into his cunning mind, his eyes yet again landed on Y/n with his usual piercing gaze. Only difference was that this time, there was a twinge of excitement and malice, lots of malice.

God how he wanted to make them pay. A total troglodyte they were, so ignorant and easily distracted by such trivial things.

You see, Feitan never got back that favor, and he certainly wasn't one to hold back when it came to exploiting others. Especially younger, naïve children who hadn't seen nor understood just how horrific the world could be. How horrific he could make their world be.

Go ahead, call him a monster. It's such a common title for him, he might've even believed it were his own name if it hadn't been for the thread engraved onto his shirt.

Feeling eyes watching them, Y/n turned to face the newer strange boy with their head tilted in confusion. The blackette walked over to the younger child, the two of them standing at the same height. "Hello." Feitan spoke up with a small smile and a friendly wave. It certainly looked realistic and Y/n couldn't feel any malicious intent within the other boy, though if only they knew how fake that smile was. "Hey there! I'm Y/n, what's your name?" The child spoke with a close-eyed smile as they waved in return.

'Oh this was going to be fun.' The boy thought with an inward chuckle of sadism.

Feitan Portor wasn't one to forgive and forget. Hell, he came from Meteor City, the place where every good action was never from the heart but instead the manipulative portion of people's minds. No matter who or what he had to go through,

He was getting back what he owed, and he was expecting it NOW.

[dianapocalypse]

Alright y’all, with the release of Mass Effect: Legendary Edition, it’s time for me to share my playlist for the entire trilogy.

I’ve refined this over like six years so scientifically speaking it’s probably good right. oh also it’s four hours long. so if you have a road trip or a boring job, this one’s for you. disclaimer, it’s entirely possible I have garbage taste in music. I also missed some characters and moments because there’s 65 songs here and I am merely human.

If you don’t have the patience for four hours, I recommend starting at track 45 and listening to the end, as the Mass Effect 3 portion is the strongest in my opinion.

UNDER THE CUT FOR DESCRIPTIONS WE GO!

FIRST MOVEMENT - MASS EFFECT 1

1. Atlas - Coldplay Eden Prime

“Sometimes the wire Must tense for the note Caught in the fire, say oh We're about to explode“

I really like the atmosphere of this song. It’s ominous, but also somehow hopeful, and makes me feel like Something Huge Is Coming.

2. I Will Not Sing A Hateful Song - Constantines Paragon Shepard

“But I was also born and raised To always speak and listen clear To know the last sound that I make Could be the last sound that I hear“

OK, listen, I think this song is about vampires, and I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be a metaphor or not. But I think this is a great song about controlling one’s temper, about knowing that you have to Rise Above the parts of you that want to lash out sometimes to get things done and have peace. Seeing as how paragon Shepard, to me, always seems like they’re three deep breaths away from snapping, but manage to keep it in check, it fits them to a T.

And also maybe they’re a vampire.

3. Hard to Kill - Beth Crowley Renegade Shepard

“So I let the rumors Turn me into a legend 'Cause I'm only human But a good myth is hard to kill”

This one’s a recent addition, but holy cow, I love it for Renegade Shep, particularly an Earthborn or Ruthless, but it works for any of them.

4. We Own the Skies - Five Iron Frenzy Joker

“My hands are bleeding where they often crack The stars will sometimes burn with longing Through the choking black Of night shifts piling each against the next”

This really vibes with Joker’s backstory for me, his super driven serious self in flight school, contrasted with who he is when he can fly a ship. He’s the best pilot in the goddamn fleet and I love him.

5. I Just Wanna See - Smash Mouth Kaidan Alenko

“Mister moon checkin' on how y'all livin' The stars all winkin' at the day that's dimmin' I just wanna see”

This song fits into his reactions to first showing up at the Citadel and his former romanticism about living in space. Ironically, it’s a song about Earth, but I feel like it works well for him. Also, Smash Mouth absolutely sounds like the kind of music Kaidan would listen to, no I will not be taking questions or constructive criticism.

6. Don’t Give Up - Noisettes Ashley Williams

“She's got a talented face and a suitcase Ain't got no desire to go no place In her case she's got no desire with her hand in the flame say's she don't feel the fire “

The energy of this song is just perfect for Ashley’s no-nonsense chip on her shoulder attitude.

7. About As Helpful As You Can Be Without Being Any Help At All - Dan Mangan The Council

“I was thrown in the boat/Cast out to sea Friendly with waves/There were sharks below Hungry for me/So I dangled my leg”

I mean, the title says it all.

8. The Captain - Guster Anderson

“Courageous, just like the captain Marching forward with no doubt in his head”

I have adored this song ever since my friend played it for me, and it’s the ultimate mentor-protégé jam for me.

9. Secret Agent Man - Johnny Rivers Garrus Vakarian

“Here's a man who leads a life of danger To everyone he meets he stays a stranger Oh, with every move he makes another chance he takes The odds are he won't live to see tomorrow”

I have to poke a little fun at Garrus and how seriously he takes himself in Mass Effect 1. I romanced him across four playthrus, I’m allowed!

10. I’m Getting Too Old For This Shit - Kill Lincoln Urdnot Wrex

“This random apathy/I swear it's killing me But I guess it's all the same, till the devil knows my name”

I don’t know ANYTHING about this band, but this song fits Wrex’s disillusionment with the Krogan well, plus, like. The title. (And also, that he secretly DOES care what happens to the Krogan.)

11. Bird Song - Juniper Vale Tali’zorah nar Rayya

“I want to dance on the horizon line But there is something I am caged behind I have a heart made for take flight But I'm low, so low”

I adore this song and the sound of Juniper Vale in general. The etherealness of this one, combined with the youthful optimism, feels very Tali. The line about ‘something I am caged behind’ works well for the suits, too. This one’s especially good if you’re a Talimancer!

12. 11. Green Garden - Laura Mvula Liara T’Soni

“And I’ll fly on the wings of a butterfly High as a tree top and down again Putting my bag down, taking my shoes off Walk on the carpet of green velvet”

I really like this song’s vibes and I feel like Liara fits it well, particularly in ME1, before all her youthful optimism is stripped from her. The scenery descriptions feel very Thessia, too.

13. Feed Me (Git It) - Little Shop of Horrors The Thorian 

“The guy sure looks like plant food to me!”

Do you get it. Do you get my joke. It’s because the Thorian is a plant that eats people. (I’m not funny)

14. Blindness - Metric Matriarch Benezia

“I was a blind fool, never complained All the survivors singing in the rain “

I don’t love the use of blind here as a negative, albeit metaphorical, descriptor, but I think this song fits Benezia’s indoctrination and death well. If you have suggestions for another, though, let me know!

15. Technologic - Daft Punk Saren

“Buy it, use it, break it, fix it, trash it, change it, mail, upgrade it”

I just think it’s Neat

16. Watershed - Vienna Teng The Reapers

“ While you were building your empires I was still sleeping”

I think this is the song that inspired the entire playlist. Vienna Teng sat down and decided to write a song from the perspective of a natural disaster, and it’s so ominous and gut-wrenching.

17. Hourglass - The Hush Sound Virmire

“This is how it ends We believe every lie and say we'll be friends How long will it last? Before we scratch all the scripts and we rework the cast “

hahahahah rework the cast get it because you have to pick who DIES

Seriously tho I really like this song for Virmire and that moment of choice that feels like it lasts 100 years on some playthroughts.

18. Pompeii - Bastille The Siege of the Citadel

“ And the walls kept tumbling down In the city that we love”

Throwback to when this song was on the radio like three times an hour. Which is around the time I made the first draft of this playlist, incidentally! It’s such a good Final Battle Jam for the Citadel, and the part about “if you close your eyes/does it almost feel like nothing’s changed at all” I think work really well for Shepard in this sequence. Shepard knew the Reapers were coming, had been fighting them all along; this attack on the Citadel is just retreading familiar territory for them, as horrifying as the war being brought to their doorstep is for the Citadel’s citizens and the council. James Vega has some good dialogue about that kind of thing in ME3.

INTERLUDE THE FIRST

19. Starships - Nicki Minaj The Normandy Crew

Starships were meant to fly Hands up and touch the sky

I like to have a little fun OK

20. Gravity - Yoko Kanno The Death of Commander Shepard

“Am I alone? is somebody there beyond these heavy aching feet still the road keeps on telling me to go on”

Welcome to mood whiplash, it’s my specialty! This is the part where you die. I think it also works for her coma very well, when she’s just drifting between life and death, not sure what’s going on, but something keeps trying to pull her back to the world.

SECOND MOVEMENT - MASS EFFECT 2

21. The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy The Lazarus Project

“Hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out? I'm gonna change you like a remix Then I'll raise you like a phoenix “

this song has no right to go as hard as it does and if  you think it’s melodramatic shut up

22. My Body Is A Cage - Peter Gabriel Commander Shepard

“I'm living in an age Whose name I don't know Though the fear keeps me moving Still my heart beats so slow “

This works particularly well if you romanced The Virmire Survivor, but this song captures the energy of Shepard freaking out bc they are trapped with Cerberus, because Cerberus rebuilt their body from the ground up. That jarring, caged feeling is so palpable in ME2 that when they gave me back Joker the first time I played, I BURST INTO SOBS from relief.

23. The Lady is a Vamp - The Spice Girls Miranda Lawson

“That's all in the past, legends built to last But she's got something new”

Listen. She’s a bond babe. Handbags, heels and pistols rock. She’s got class. This is a song about Miranda. That is all.

24. Kryptonite - 3 Doors Down Jacob Taylor

“ I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon After all I knew, it had to be something to do with you “

This one’s about the Vibes for me. Also can apply to his past relationship with Miranda. I’m also super showing my age on this song, oof haha.

25. Stable Song - Death Cab For Cutie Colony Abduction

“Rows of deserted houses all Our stable mates highway bound “

I really like the mood of this one for showing up on the very first abducted colony, the eerieness and sadness of it all and Shepard’s resolve to do something about it.

26. Konichiwa Bitches - Robyn Kasumi Goto

“I'm so very hot that when I rob your mansion You ain't call the cops, you call the fire station”

THAT COUPLET ALONE MAKES THE ENTIRE SONG. I love how playful and cheeky it is.

27. Seven Nation Army Glitch Mob Remix - The White Stripes, Glitch Mob Zaeed Massani

“And I'm talking to myself at night Because I can't forget Back and forth through my mind Behind a cigarette”

Pretty sure we all had this on some playlist or another when it came out, and it’s the perfect Badass With A Grudge song.

28. Science is Real - They Might Be Giants Mordin Solus

“ And when a theory emerges Consistent with the facts The proof is with science The truth is with science “

This one actually got added by my wife to replace a song that wasn’t on Spotify, but that has the same energy; Hank Green’s “I Fucking Love Science”. I get more into the emotional side of Mordin in the ME3 section, but I also really just love his Hamster On Coffee energy and this song captures it really well.

29. Prove Yourself - Radiohead Garrus Vakarian

“I can't afford to breathe in this town Nowhere to sit without a gun in my hand Hooked back up to the cathode ray

I'm better off dead “

The absolute rock bottom mental state Garrus is in when you get back to him in ME2 is so heartwrenching. Might not always agree with my boy’s methods, but he’s one of my favorite fictional characters of all time.

30. Rat a Tat - Fallout Boy Feat. Courtney Love Jack

“We are professional ashes of roses, this kerosene's live You settled your score, this is where you come to beg”

It helps that Courtney Love sounds exactly like Jack to me, NGL.

31. Defeat You - Smash Mouth Grunt

“Hey I know what you've done It makes it that much better to defeat you “

Only I am brave enough to put two songs by Smash Mouth on the same playlist, to be shared in 2021

32. The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot - Brand New Horizon/The Virmire Survivor

“If it makes you less sad I will die by your hand Hope you find out what you want Already know what I am “

Hits harder if you romanced the Virmire Survivor. Mostly from Shep’s perspective. This is a Shep that feels Bad after that encounter rather than Mad, so Your Mileage May Vary.

33. Violet Stars Happy Hunting! - Janelle Monae Tali’zorah vas Neema

“I'm an alien from outer space I'm a cyber-girl without a face a heart or a mind”

I just like the vibes of this one for Tali! I know it’s more about an actual AI but...IDK. I like it. So there.

34. Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd Thane Krios

“There is no pain you are receding A distant ship smoke on the horizon”

This song works both on a Literal level with his Kepral’s syndrome struggles, but also Metaphorical re: his Battle Sleep. Plus, Thane is a dad, so he gets Dad Rock.

35. My Medea - Vienna Teng Samara

“For I have made her prison be Her every step away from me And this child I would destroy If you tried to set her free “

Mom of the year award, here

36. Toxic - Britney Spears Morinth

“There's no escape, I can't wait I need a hit, baby, give me it You're dangerous, I'm loving it”

If Morinth weren’t so under-utilized after recruitment and didn’t get killed off in the background of ME3 I’d probably actually recruit her sometimes. I almost did on my most recent playthru bc that Shepard just HATES SPACE COPS. Anyway the song explains itself

37. Turn me On - David Guetta feat. Nicki Minaj EDI/The Collector Attack

“My body needs a hero Come and save me Something tells me you know how to save me”

I know this song is a metaphor but also it works really well both literally and metaphorically for Joker saving EDI

38. Robots - Dan Mangan Legion

“Robots need love too They want to be loved by you “

The Geth just want to live peacefullyyyyyy 

39. Be Still - The Killers Love Interest Theme

“Be still / someday you’ll leave fearlessness on your sleeve”

This song works so well for the night before Omega-4. If you had an ME2 love interest, anyway. Also “fearlessness on your sleeve” is one of my favorite set of words ever written.

40. No Cars Go - Arcade Fire The Omega-4 Relay

“We know a place no spaceships go We know a place where no subs go “

This one’s pretty literal.

41. Rocketman - Elton John Suicide Mission

“ And I think it's gonna be a long, long time 'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find I'm not the man they think I am at home “

I like sneaking some Classics onto my playlists, and I think this is how I generally approach Shepard’s mindset during the Suicide Mission, mostly the chorus. I’m also a sucker for ballads during action sequences. This one isn’t a perfect 1:1 but the Vibes check out.

42. Blast Off - David Guetta feat. Kaz James The Normandy Crew

“Got all my people with me And none of us give a fuck So put dem hands up higher Let's smash this party up”

You have to imagine they partied HARD after recovering from Suicide Mission, but before Shep got arrested, right??? This is the Starships for ME2.

INTERLUDE THE SECOND

43. I’m Not Your Hero - Tegan and Sara Liara T’soni

“ Feeling like I am now lighting up the hall I was used to standing in the shadow of a damaged heart Learning all I know now, losing all I did I never used to feel like I'd be standing so far ahead “

This feels like a good coming of age moment for Liara, as she copes with the choices she made in the 2 years of Shepard’s death (giving them to Cerberus), losing Feron, etc. This is her coming into her own as the Shadow Broker. She’s not meant to be an uncomplicated Big Damn Hero, but she can do good from this position.

44. The Well and the Lighthouse - Arcade Fire The Alpha Relay Incident

“I'm serving time All for a crime I did commit You want the truth? You know I'd do it all again“

These opening lines I feel capture the Alpha Relay Incident really well, and how Shepard did what they HAD to do there, and would do it again, but it still feels like shit. I always wished there was more choice on that mission, but also, having something like that happen without player agency is interesting. Shepard is at their most interesting, I think, in times where we DON’T have a say in what happens to them.

45. Reignite - Malukah Commander Shepard

“Crush my heart into embers, and I will reignite”

Is it cheating to use a Mass Effect fan song on my playlist? I certainly don’t think so, and this is the best Mass Effect fan song ever written.

THIRD MOVEMENT - MASS EFFECT 3

46. This Is War - Thirty Seconds to Mars Leaving Earth

“It's the moment of truth, and the moment to lie The moment to live and the moment to die The moment to fight, the moment to fight To fight, to fight, to fight “

It feels Too Easy to use this here but I’m gonna anyway. You’ve seen AMVs of this set to everything. It’s the ending song of DA:O. It’s the quintessential World At War song.

47. Battleborn - The Killers James Vega

“Up against the wall There's something dying on the street When they knock you down You're gonna get back on your feet”

James Vega is massively underrated and I will love him til I’m cold in the ground. Aro icon.

48. Handlebars - Flobots The Illusive Man

“I can hand out a million vaccinations Or let 'em all die of exasperation Have 'em all healed of their lacerations Have 'em all killed by assassination”

The way this song escalates fits TIM and Cerberus’s fall back into being Just Full On Evil really well. Perfect song for a power trip.

49. Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect - The Decemberists The Virmire Survivor

“And I am nothing of a builder But here I dreamt I was an architect And I built this balustrade To keep you home, to keep you safe From the outside world”

I like this song for how the Virmire Survivor feels about their survivor’s guilt and also about Shepard. I honestly wish they were both more heavily utilized in ME2 and 3, but I realize it’s hard to write a ton of content for characters who just aren’t in half of all peoples’ playthrus.

50. Heaven Knows - The Pretty Reckless Grisson Academy

“One, two, three and four, the devil's knocking at your door Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie Show your life with your head held high“

This song is so perfect for Jack and her biotic kids that she’s one of the only returning characters that gets her own song on this playlist

51. The Great Fire - OK Go Javik

“But when the flames die down, and everything is gone, Will there be fire under the ashes still?”

Self explanatory. Javik is the fire remaining under the ashes.

52. Bring the Hammer Down - Paragon Priority: Tuchanka/Kalros

“ Hammer strikes the anvil A rage that breaks the chain Strikes down like a lightening In our ranks “

KALROOOOOS

53. Wake Up - Arcade Fire Curing The Genophage/Mordin Solus

“If the children don't grow up, Our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up. We're just a million little gods causin' rain storms, turnin' every good thing to Rust I guess we'll just have to adjust”

I just really love this song as an image of Mordin’s spirit looking out over Tuchanka as the genophage cure is dispersed, and watching over future generations. If you didn’t cure the genophage, how dare you. No song for you.

Anyway started tearing up listening to this one while writing the description don’t look at me

54. Ballad of a Politician - Regina Spektor Councillor Udina/Priority Citadel 2

“A man inside a room is shaking hands with other men This is how it happens/Our carefully laid plans”

traitor

55. Cyborgs vs. Robots - Ludo The Geth-Quarian War

“But your iron fist will never knock me down 'Cause I'm powered By a conscious right to conduct my life without fear.”

This is probably a bit silly for this awful war. But also. It does fit. You can’t tell me it doesn’t. Just save them both at the end and you can feel fine having some fun with it!

56. Artificial Heart - Jonathan Coulton The Geth

“It's not a real heart It is a real artificial heart”

Just a little fun with the Geth! This works best with Reaper Upgrades.

57. With A Little Help From My Friends - Joe Anderson, Jim Sturgess The Citadel DLC

“What do you see when you turn out the light? I can't tell you, but I know it's mine

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends”

I happen to prefer this version to any other because of how much fun it sounds like they’re having

58. Dark In Here - The Mountain Goats Priority: Earth

“Steal away at sundown, pick a place to hide Check for signs of ambush, hunker down inside Tired of running, tired of never standing still Hear them riding up the hill“

You know I had to get the Goats in here. Would it be a fan playlist if there wasn’t one?

59. Adieu - Yoko Kanno Leaving your Love Interest/Shepard and the Beam

“My love for you burns deep inside me / So strong Embers of times we had And now, here I stand / Lost in a memory I see your face, and smile”

...do I need to say more than that?

60. My Way (Minor Key) - Chase Holfelder The Indoctrination of The Illusive Man

“Regrets, I've had a few/But then again, too few to mention I did what I had to do/I saw it through, without exemption“

This cover takes this song from something I tolerate when I hear it to one of my FAVORITE songs. The frenzied way he sings the “through it all” verse is PEAK Indoctrinated TIM.

61. I’m Alive - Disturbed Refusal 

“There will never be a reason why I will surrender to your advice To change myself, I'd rather die/Though they will not understand”

Honestly I didn’t “get” the Refusal ending until I heard this song, then I was like, OH, I SEE IT ALL SO CLEARLY NOW. This is my favorite in-universe Shepard take on the Refusal ending. I always got it from the player’s perspective of being dissatisfied with the options, but this one puts it into the world for me. This is a Shepard who does not trust the Starchild. This is a Shepard that chooses to end things on their own terms rather than submit to their designs.

62. Machine - Regina Spektor Control 

“I collect my moments Into a correspondence With a mightier power Who just lacks my perspective And who lacks my organics And who covets my defects “

I used to have Adieu here, actually, because like Refusal, I didn’t used to GET the Control ending. Now, I do, in part thanks to hearing this song. I mean, just go look at the full lyrics. If this song hadn’t been written years before the end of Mass Effect 3, I’d swear it was a fan song for it.

63. Maybe Tomorrow - Yuki Kajiura Destroy 

“The moon is gone And the night is still so dark I'm a little bit afraid of tomorrow“

I’m a Destroy Ending person, I won’t lie. Full on “the starchild is a liar and my synthetic friends are FINE” indoctrination theory level destroy ending. But this song is not about that. It’s about the canonical destroy ending, and if you prefer a Shep that survives it, this song’s for you.

This song captures the exhaustion and melancholy of the end of a long journey so well. Shepard is afraid of what comes next, the collateral damage resulting from their actions. But they know that, at least, it’s over now. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

64. Waiting For the End - Linkin Park Synthesis

“ I know what it takes to move on I know how it feels to lie All I wanna do is trade this life for something new Holding on to what I haven't got”

This is one of my favorite songs of all time. The hardest part of ending is starting again. Oof. Gets me every single time. Shepard finding the resolve to sacrifice themself for the hope of something better, of things not going how they planned, ever, of learning to make peace with that and the people who loved them learning to carry on without them? OOF.

65. Shine - Vienna Teng Epilogue

“Shine with all the untold Hold the light given unto you Find the love to unfold In this broken world we choose“

Vienna Teng is a master of capturing life’s softer emotions, and this fits perfectly with the epilogue scene for me. Tell me again about the Shepard.

“Find the love to unfold in this broken world we choose” has to be one of the greatest lines about the human experience ever written.

[fandomrewrites]

Chasing Butterflies: Pilot

Hello all, I’m finally posting the first chapter of Chasing Butterflies - a rewrite of The 100! I am posting it with my to OC’s so it will not be a reader insert. I will try to update once a week, on either Saturday or Sunday. I hope you all enjoy this story and as always constructive criticism is appreciated. Let me know if you want to get added to the taglist!

Season 1, Episode 1: Pilot Pairings: OC x OC best friends, no love interests yet Warnings: Some swearing and mild violence Word Count: 5,209

Season 1 Masterlist

It's been almost three years since Nova Kane has been labeled a criminal and locked up in what the Ark residents call the Sky Box. She was in solitary confinement only receiving visits from the guards and her father, Marcus Kane. 

Nova was never very welcoming to her father or the guards, after all, they're the reason why she was locked up in the first place. Nova was just a month and a half away from the fateful day that she would either be sentenced to death or she’ll be let to live once again amongst the Ark's residents. 

On the Ark, any crime, no matter how small, is a sentence for death. Except if you are under the age of 18. If you are younger than 18, you will be locked up in the Sky Box where you will wait to get reviewed on your 18th birthday. 

Nova sat on her bed reading a book, The Outsiders. It was her favorite. She always felt connected to the character's, especially Dallas Winston. He was misunderstood just like her. 

As she was getting to her favorite part of the book, the rumble, her door opened. She sighed and looked up, her eyes meeting her fathers. "What are you doing here? It's not a visiting day."

"You're getting sent to the ground." Marcus bluntly states.

Nova takes a second to let the words register before she answers, "What? I thought it wasn't survivable?"

"Listen, Nova. This is your best chance at survival. You and 99 other prisoners are being sent to Earth today. You're strong, you've been training since you learned how to walk. The other prisoners are going to need a leader. A guard will be sent down with you too, but I have a feeling they won't want to listen to him-"

Nova cuts her dad's rant off, "They won't want to listen to me either, Marcus. I may be a prisoner but I'm still considered privileged." 

Marcus sighs, frustrated that his daughter still refuses to call him dad. "Just be careful down there okay?" He takes his hand out of his pocket pulling out a knife. "For you to bring down. You can bring the book too, I know it's your favorite. Just make sure they stay hidden so the guards don't see it."

Nova nods and stands up placing both the book and the knife in the big pockets of her oversized jacket. Not even a minute later, the guards opened the door, "Kane we can't wait any longer. Prisoner 306, hold out your right arm."

Nova rolls her eyes but does as she's told, rolling up her sleeve so they can have access to her wrist. As soon as her sleeve is rolled up one of the guards locks a metal cuff around her wrist. Nova clenches her teeth in pain, but refuses to let out a noise and give the guards the satisfaction in knowing they hurt her. 

"Alright, let's go." The guard grabs her roughly by the arm and pulls her out of her cell. 

Behind her she hears her dad say, "Remember what I said Nova." She briefly looks back and nods, letting her father know that she heard him. 

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 On the other side of the Sky Box is another girl that the Ark residents would consider privileged. Her name is Elara Sinclair. Elara has only been in the Sky Box for six months and her 18th birthday is a week away.

Elara isn't in solitary like Nova though. No, she has a cellmate by the name of Harper McIntyre. The two girls got close and we're nervously awaiting the day when Elara would probably be floated. 

"What's the first thing you're going to do when you get out?" Harper asks.

"If I get out you mean." Elara says, rather morbidly.

"You can't think like that, E. So not if, when."

Elara cracked a small smile, "Probably just spend a lot of time with my parents. I hate only being able to see them once a week."

"And become Abby's personal medical assistant." Harper smiles. 

"I'm pretty sure that place is already taken, but yeah. I would love to continue my medical training." Before Harper could reply, the girl's cell door opened to reveal two guards. 

"Prisoners 397 and 398, turn around and hold out your right arm."

Both girls exchanged a nervous look but did as told, not wanting to anger the guards. "What's happening? I still have a week until I turn 18." Elara asks.

"Ow! What is this?" Harper questions, growing more concerned by the second. 

Neither guard answers as they each grab the girls by the arm, "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Elara tries once more to get a straight answer from the guards. Her mouth falls open once they step out of the cell. In front of her she sees every prisoner leaving their cells with matching metal cuffs and a guard escorting them. 

"They're killing us all!" Harper exclaims. Tears threaten to spill out of both girls' eyes. 

"I didn't even get to tell my parents goodbye." Elara mumbles out.

Both girls watch with wide eyes as the guards drag them out of the Sky Box and towards a drop ship. "What the hell?" Elara says as it clicks, they aren't being floated, they're being sent to the ground. 

Part of her is excited, she's dreamed of this since she was a girl after all. But then she remembers, it's supposed to take another 100 years for the ground to be survivable, they're sentencing them to death just in a different way then they usually do.

Harper and Elara are placed in seats beside a pretty brunette, they get strapped in and wait patiently as the rest of the prisoners are in their spots. "Hey, I'm Octavia." The pretty girl greets Harper and Elara. 

"I'm Elara and this is Harper." She smiles nervously.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 A few moments later, Nova is the last one brought into the ship. With one last rough pull by the guard Nova finally has enough. She tears her arm loose and elbows the guard in the face, slams her foot onto his toes then grabs his head to shove her knee into his face. The delinquents surrounding them look on, some with terrified faces and others in amusement. 

The guard stumbles back, nose bleeding from the impact. "You bitch." The guard spits out.

"Oh screw you." She says, glaring angrily. Before the guard can react she takes the last seat available and straps herself in. The guard leaves the ship without another word.

When Nova looks up she realizes that everyone's eyes are on her, "Show's over. You can stop looking at me." Everyone quickly adverts their eyes, clearly afraid of the girl. All except one person that is, "Wells? What the fuck are you doing here?"

Sitting across from her is not one, but two of her best friends. Or at least they were growing up, she's changed a lot since she's been locked up. The boy she addressed, Wells, looks slightly shocked to see her. "Nova?"

Her eyes flicker to the passed out blonde beside him, "You came for her, didn't you? For Clarke?" She questions.

All he does is nod. The drop ship finally launches and chatter can be heard from the people around Nova, Wells, and Clarke. After a few seconds Clarke starts to move. "Welcome back- look." Wells starts.

"Wells, why the hell are you here?" Clarke asks, shocked.

Nova lets out a light laugh, though there isn't much humor to it, she hasn't really laughed in years. "I asked him the same thing. Though I used more colorful language."

"Nova?" The blonde gasps.

"Hey." The brunette simply says.

Wells brings Clarke's attention back to her, "When I found out they were sending prisoners to the ground, I got myself arrested. I came for you."Wells turns to address Nova, “I didn’t know your dad was sending you.”

Clarke looks shocked, no surprise there though. Before she can even think of a response the ship violently shakes. "What was that?" Clarke asks.

"That was the atmosphere." Wells answers.

A video starts playing, showing Chancellor Jaha, Wells' dad. "Prisoners of the Ark, hear me now. You've been given a second chance, and as your Chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us, indeed for mankind itself. We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would've sent others. Frankly, we're sending you because your crimes have made you expendable."

A male delinquent sitting somewhere to the right of Nova calls out, "Your dad is a dick, Wells."

"Wells is here?" Elara asks, looking to her roommate. Neither girl saw him when they got on the ship.

"Those crimes will be forgiven, your records wiped clean." the Chancellor continues. "The drop site has been chosen carefully. Before the last war, Mount Weather was a military base built within a mountain. It was to be stocked with enough non-perishables to sustain three hundred people for up to two years."

Delinquents start cheering as someone undoes their seatbelt floating up into the air, "Spacewalk bandit strikes again! Go Finn!"

"Check it out. Your dad floated me, after all." Finn says, floating in front of Wells, Clarke and Nova.

Nova can't help the small chuckle from making its way past her lips, despite her knowing that he was probably going to get himself killed for not being buckled.

"You should strap in before the parachutes deploy," Wells says.

"Don't unbuckle! It's dangerous!" Elara exclaims to other delinquents that start to follow Finn out of his seat. Nova whips her head in the direction of the voice, recognizing who it belongs too, though she is unable to see the girl who is like a sister to her. 

Just after Elara finishes speaking, Clarke says, "Hey, you two, stay put if you want to live."

The Chancellor can still be heard on the screen, "Mount Weather is life. You must locate those supplies immediately."

Finn, recognizing Clarke, says, "Hey, you're the traitor who's been in solitary for a year."

"You're the idiot who wasted a month of oxygen on an illegal spacewalk." Clarke snaps at the boy.

"But it was fun. I'm Finn."

Nova shakes her head as the Chancellor continues speaking, "Your one responsibility is stay alive."

The ship shakes again, Elara lets out a small scream as the three that got out of their seats are tossed through the air, "Stay in your seats. Finn, are you okay?" Clarke screams.

"Retrorockets ought to have fired by now." Wells states.

"Okay. Everything on this ship is a hundred years old, right? Just give it a second."

"Clarke, there's something I have to tell you. I'm sorry I got your father arrested."

Nova raises her eyebrows at the exchange, knowing the true story of how Clarke’s father got arrested. "Don't you talk about my father!" The blonde yells, trying to be heard over all the other noise in the drop ship.

"Please, I can't die knowing that you hate me."

"They didn't arrest my father, Wells. They executed him. I do hate you."

More yelling is heard throughout the ship and then a big crash.  "Listen. No machine hum." A guy who sits across from Elara says.

The guy next to him smiles, "Whoa. That's a first."

Everyone starts to unbuckle and stand. Elara quickly rushes to the three boys that unbuckled during the journey, "Are they breathing?" She quickly asks Finn, just as Clarke makes it to them. All he does is shake his head.

Clarke looks at Elara about to say something, but a voice from below stops her, "The outer door is on the lower level. Let's go."

"No. We can't just open the doors." Clarke says, quickly rushing down the ladder.

Elara stays behind looking at Finn, "It's not your fault." She says.

He looks up at her, "It is. They followed me."

"Yeah. But that was their choice. There's 100 people on this ship and only two people followed. It was their choice, even after Clarke and I said not too."

Finn nods but still looks upset, "C'mon. Let's go see Earth." Elara holds out her hand for Finn to take. He gently smiles, grabbing her outstretched hand.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 Once Nova unbuckled she didn't wait for anyone as she made her way down to the lower level. She shoved her way to the front, wanting to be one of the first people out of the crowded ship. 

A guy in a guards uniform was standing by the door, "Hey, just back it up, guys."

"Stop. The air could be toxic." Clarke calls from the ladder.

"If the air is toxic, we're all dead, anyway."

"Bellamy?" A pretty girl asks, looking at the guard.

"My God, look how big you are."

The girl finally makes it to Bellamy, "What the hell are you wearing, a guard's uniform?"

"I borrowed it to get on the drop ship. Someone has got to keep an eye on you." They both hug.

Looking at his wrist Clarke calls, "Where's your wristband?"

"Do you mind? I haven't seen my brother in a year." The girl snaps.

"No one has a brother." A guy yells out.

"That's Octavia Blake, the girl they found hidden in the floor." A girl says in reply.

Octavia lunges forward to attack and Nova smirks. She likes her, she has spunk. "Octavia, Octavia, no." Her brother says, holding her back. "Let's give them something else to remember you by."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Like being the first person on the ground in a hundred years."

As Bellamy pulls the lever, opening the door, Nova contemplates pushing past Octavia but decides against it. She likes the girl and can take her under her wing and make her a badass. She can't do that if the girl thinks she's a bitch for not allowing her to step out first.

Once the door is fully open, Octavia slowly steps down the ramp. When she reaches the end she jumps onto the ground, throws her hands in the air and screams, "We're back bitches!"

Nova runs out once the words leave the girls mouth. She takes a deep breath, holds her arms out, and lets her head fall back, closing her eyes. She lets the sun hit her exposed skin and she smiles. The first genuine smile that falls on her lips in three years. 

Elara on the other hand is one of the last people to leave the ship. But when she does she has a huge smile lighting up her face. She spins in slow circles taking in every inch of Earth that she can see. 

After both Nova and Elara get their fix of the ground they make their way over to Clarke, who stands by the drop ship looking at a map. Nova looks at Elara in surprise, "Lara?"

"Hey Nov." Elara smiles at the girl who was once her best friend. "I missed you."

"You too." Nova says quietly. 

Their attention is brought back to Clarke as Wells comes out of the drop ship, "We got problems. The communication system is dead. I went to the roof. A dozen panels are missing. Heat fried the wires."

"Well, all that matters right now is getting to Mount Weather. See? Look. This is us." Clarke points to a place on the map as the other three look on, "This is where we need to get if we want to survive."

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Wells questions, but then he answers himself, "Your father."

A voice from behind the four friends interrupts the conversation, "Ah, cool, a map. They got a bar in this town? I'll buy you a beer."

Wells puts a hand to the boy's chest, "You mind?"

"Hey, hey, hey, hands off of him. He's with us." Another delinquent, Murphy, says, breaking the contact. 

"Relax. We're just trying to figure out where we are." Wells says, trying to diffuse the situation. 

"We're on the ground. That not good enough for you?" Bellamy calls, hearing the conversation.

"We need to find Mount Weather. You heard my father's message. That has to be our first priority."

"Screw your father. What, you think you're in charge here, you and the rest of the privileged?" Octavia spits, causing Nova to roll her eyes.

"Do you think we care who's in charge? We need to get to Mount Weather not because the Chancellor said so, but because the longer we wait, the hungrier we'll get and the harder this'll be." Clarke starts.

"We need Mount Weather to survive." Elara pipes in. 

Clarke nods at her statement, "We're looking at a twenty-mile trek, okay? So if we want to get there before dark, we need to leave now."

"I got a better idea. You four go, find it for us. Let the privileged do the hard work for a change." Bellamy says.

The delinquents start cheering. Nova scoffs, "You're all going to die down here."

Everyone looks at her, "What? It's true. We're not on vacation. We need supplies and Mount Weather is where those supplies are. Four of us can't carry back enough supplies for 98 people."

Wells speaks, "She's right. We all need to go."

"Look at this, everybody. The Chancellor and Vice Chancellor of Earth." Murphy jokes.

Nova once again rolls her eyes, she has a feeling that this will be a common occurrence down on Earth. "You think that's funny?' Wells asks.

Murphy grabs Wells, tripping him. "Wells!" Clarke and Elara call out in concern.

"No, but that was." Murphy smiles. Wells stands up, limping on the foot that got twisted on his way down. He goes to put up his fists but Nova steps in between the two.

"He has one good leg. If you want to fight someone maybe choose someone so it's a fair fight." She states, glaring.

"You mean you? 'Cause I'll gladly fight you any day, Angel."

"That wouldn't be a fair fight." She states, clenching her jaw at the unwelcomed nickname.

"You afraid of me?" He smirks.

Nova smirks back, "I meant for you. Now move along, unless you want to get your ass kicked."

Murphy scoffs, “Like you could actually hurt me.” 

The boy with the goggles mumbles from behind Murphy, “Clearly you didn’t see her take on the guard.” 

At his words, Murphy looks Nova up and down but decides against actually fighting the girl. As Murphy and his crew finally back away, Finn makes his presence known, "So Mount Weather. When do we leave?"

"Right now. We'll be back tomorrow with food." Clarke says.

"I'm staying. Someone with medical experience should be here in case anyone gets hurt." Elara says as she finishes wrapping Wells' ankle.

"How are the three of you gonna carry enough food for 98 people?" Wells asks.

Finn turns and grabs the two closest guys, one of which includes goggles boy, "Five of us. Can we go now?"

"Sounds like a party. Make it six." Octavia says joining the group.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" Bellamy asks his sister.

"Going for a walk." She casually answers.

Clarke turns to Finn, grabbing his wrist, "Hey, were you trying to take this off?"

"Yeah, so?" He answers, shrugging.

"So this wristband transmits your vital signs to the Ark. Take it off, and they'll think you're dead."

"Should I care?"

"Well, I don't know. Do you want the people you love to think you're dead? Do you want them to follow you down here in two months? Because they won't if they think we're dying." Finn nods, "Now let's go."

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 As Nova and the group of six make their way through the forest, Clarke seems to be impatient. She walks ahead from the rest, focused on reaching their destination. Finn grabs a flower from the ground and places it in Octavia's hair. 

"Now, that, my friend, is game." Jasper, the boy with the goggles says to his friend, Monty.

"That, my friend, is poison sumac." Monty replies.

Octavia hurriedly wipes the flower out of her hair, "What? It is?"

"The flowers aren't poisonous. They're medicinal, calming, actually." He states.

"His family grows all the pharmaceuticals on the Ark." Jasper says, explaining how his friend knows so much about the plant.

"Hey, guys, would you try to keep up?" Clarke calls, turning around to look at everyone.

"Come on, Clarke. How do you block all this out?" Finn questions the blonde.

"Well, it's simple. I wonder, why haven't we seen any animals? Maybe it's because there are none. Maybe we've already been exposed to enough radiation to kill us. Sure is pretty, though. Come on."

"Someone should slip her some poison sumac." Octavia mumbles to the rest of us. Jasper snorts and Nova allows a smirk to fall on her lips.

"If we've been exposed to enough radiation to kill us then we're already dead. Might as well enjoy our last moments, Clarke." Nova says to her friend.

Finn turns to the other two boys, "I got to know what you two did to get busted."

Monty replies, "Sumac isn't the only herb in the garden, if you know what I mean."

"Someone forgot to replace what we took." Jasper says, casting an accusing eye at Monty.

"Someone has apologized, like, a thousand times."

"What about you Nova? What'd they get you for?"

"Yeah, all we ever heard were rumors." Finn adds.

"Murder." Nova states simply.

Up ahead Clarke stops, "What? My mom said you stole."

Nova shakes her head, "It was a cover. My dad, Jaha, and your mom were the only ones who knew the truth. And of course me and the guy I killed."

"Remind me not to get on her bad side." She hears Jasper whisper to Monty.

Nova turns around smirking, "Don't worry. That guy had it coming. The only person down here I may consider murdering is Murphy. At least it's just him for now."

The group slows to a stop as they spot a deer in front of them. "No animals, huh?" Finn whispers to Clarke. Finn steps forward to get a better look at the animal but steps on a stick. The deer looks up and turns to see what made the noise. 

They all gasp. The deer has two faces.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 Elara and Wells walked away from the camp looking for water. "Clarke still doesn't know?" Elara asks.

"No, and you're not going to tell her."

"Seriously? You don't need to remind me, Wells." She pauses, "We shouldn't be walking around for long. You need to rest your ankle."

Wells nods and they start to loop around to head back to the camp.

Once they see the drop ship a voice calls out, "Find any water yet?"

Looking up Elara and Wells spot Murphy, "No, not yet, but, we're going back out soon if you want to come."

Murphy turns his attention to the side of the drop ship, carved into the metal is 'First son first to dye'. He chuckles then says to Wells, "You know, my father, he begged for mercy in the airlock chamber when your father floated him."

Wells just looks at him, "You spelled die wrong, genius."

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 Continuing their trek through the woods, Finn asks no one in particular, "Hey, you know what I'd like to know? Why send us down today after ninety seven years? What changed?"

"Who cares?" Octavia speaks up, "I'm just glad they did. I woke up rotting in a cell, and now I'm spinning in a forest."

"Maybe they found something on a satellite, you know, like an old weather satellite or it wasn't a satellite." Monty says. Nova knits her eyebrows together in confusion at his words.

"The Ark is dying. At the current population level, there's roughly three months left of life support, maybe four now that we're gone." Clarke answers.

"So that was the secret they locked you up to keep, why they kept you in solitary, floated your old man?" Finn questions.

"My father was the engineer who discovered the flaw. He thought the people had a right to know. The Council disagreed. My mother disagreed. They were afraid it would cause a panic. We were gonna go public, anyway, when Wells-" She trails off.

"What, turned in your dad?" Monty asks.

Clarke nods, "The guard showed up before we could. That's why today. That's why it was worth the risk. Even if we all die, at least they bought themselves more time."

Nova lets out a humorless laugh, "Wow, never thought my dad would get to send me to my death twice."

An awkward silence settles among the group as Octavia and Nova speed up, the rest staying slightly behind to talk more about the topic. 

Not hearing the conversation happening behind them, Nova and Octavia exchange a smile. They found water, a river to be exact. Both girls immediately reach to peel off their shirts, throwing them to the ground. 

Behind them Jasper's voice can be heard, "Oh, damn, I love Earth." The four delinquents not stripping look on in shock, though the three boys can't help but check out the two girls. 

"Octavia, Nova, what the hell are you doing?" Clarke asks.

The two girls glance back at the group when they hear their names being called, they look at each other once more then step over the edge, landing in the water with a splash.

The other four run over, looking down at the top of the girls head. Only the nose and eyes on both girls are showing above the water. "Nova, Octavia! We can't swim!" Monty nervously says.

The two brunettes move so their heads are now above the water, "We know." Nova states.

Octavia continues, "But we can stand." They both stand up exposing the top half of their bodies.

The group still on land starts stripping to get in the water but before they can Jasper calls out, "Get out of the water! Octavia, Nova, get out!"

Octavia and Nova both look at him confused, but not even a minute later Octavia gets pulled in the water by something large. Nova gasps and quickly rushes to get out of the water, simultaneously trying to find something to help Octavia.

Finn reaches down to help Nova up as the rest of the group push a rock into the water hoping to distract whatever grabbed Octavia. As soon as the creature lets the brunette go Jasper quickly helps her out. "Not to self, next time, save the girl." Monty says looking at Octavia and Jasper, and Nova and Finn.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 Wells and Elara once again made their way back to camp. They still couldn't find water which wasn't good considering they kinda needed some to survive. It was starting to get dark though so they would have to continue their search the next day.

The two friends looked at each curiously when they heard cheers from the delinquents. Finally reaching the group surrounded, who had a fire started, they see a girl, Fox, getting her wristband taken off. "Who's next?" Bellamy calls out.

"What the hell are you doing?" Wells angrily shouts.

"We're liberating ourselves. What does it look like?"

"You're killing us." Elara gasps out. "The wristbands are the only way the Ark knows we're alive. If you take them off the Ark will think we're dying."

"That's the point, sweetheart. We can take care of ourselves, can't we?" The group cheers at Bellamy's words.

"You think this is a game?" asks Wells, "Those aren't just our friends and parents up there. They're our farmers, our doctors, our engineers. I don't care what he tells you. We won't survive here on our own, and besides, if it is really safe, how could you not want the rest of our people to come down?"

"My people are already down. Those people," Bellamy points to the sky, "locked my people up. Those people killed my mother for the crime of having a second child. Your father did that."

"My father didn't write the laws."

"No. He enforced them, but not anymore. not here. Here, there are no laws."

Once again the group cheers, so Bellamy continues. "Here, we do whatever the hell we want whenever the hell we want. Now, you don't have to like it. You can even try to stop it or change it, kill me. You know why? Whatever the hell we want."

The delinquents chorus, "Whatever the hell we want!" Then, out of seemingly nowhere, it starts to rain. Elara gasps and raises her head to the sky, letting the rain hit her face.

Elara catches someone watching her out of the corner of her eye, she turns her head to make eye contact. Her mouth drops in shock as the boy smiles at her.

He makes his way over and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, "Hey Elara. What do you say about a kiss in the rain? If I remember correctly it was something you always wanted to do."

Elara snorts, "Yeah, but that was before we broke up, Atlas." 

"What, so you won't let me kiss you one last time?" He asks with a cheeky smile.

"Not happening." Elara replies, though she can’t hide the smile that falls onto her lips.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 The next day the group of six that went to find food make it their mission to safely cross the river. As soon as they find a vine they can swing from, Finn volunteers to go first. 

He keeps hesitating to cross though, "You wanted to go first. Now quit stalling." Clarke calls out.

"Just hang on till the apogee, and you'll be fine." Jasper says from Finn's side.

"The apogee like the Indians, right?" Finn asks.

"Apogee, not apache."

"He knows. Today, Finn." Clarke says.

"Aye, aye, captain. See you on the other side."

Just as he's about to swing Jasper stops him, "Wait. Let me. I can do it."

Finn looks at him with a smile, "Knew there was a badass in there somewhere." Jasper hesitates, "Hey, it's okay to be afraid, Jasper. The trick is not fighting it." Finn reassures the boy.

"See you on the other side." He swings, whooping and hollering the whole way across. 

The other five delinquents cheer happily when he reaches the other side. "Let's go, Princess. You're up." Finn says to Clarke.

Jasper reaches down, picking up a sign that says Mount Weather. The other five cheer one more time as Clarke goes to grab the vine. Before she gets the chance though, from somewhere behind them a spear flies straight into Jasper's chest.

"Jasper!" The group calls out.

"Get down!" Nova exclaims, pulling Octavia and Monty, the two that were closest to her down. 

"We're not alone." Clarke whispers to the group.

[reddus-sideblog]

Pathfinder Update

WOOPS ALMOST FORGOT TO PUT A BREAK SORRY ABOUT YOUR DASHBOARD

So, the Ninth Life, Captain Lora’a’s ship, makes good heading towards the once Velakan and now Pragian prison isle. On the eve before the ship arrived Tisiphone produced the Twin Orb, and took Valka through to Bostadt, going with him to “watch over him” while he brewed potions of See Invisible (our trust of Ivan was running ever lower). Once TIsiphone was satisfied that Valka was occupied with making the potions she left to go “take care of some things”.

Valka said for her to say “hi” to Vera for her, and Tisiphone pretended, quite poorly, to say that she would if she did in fact happen to go by the Silver Stag. Tisiphone came back to the Ninth Life the next morning, seemingly a lot calmer and with her carefully washed and braided. It was rare to see her hair so carefully maintained, instead of the usual fluffy mess that it is usually seen in. Tisi had forgotten to buy any further supplies, though. Valka did, however, make the See Invisible potions.

Once the Ninth Life came into view of the prison isle the Stormbreaker let up the wind and cast his gaze at the isle. It noted how the island seemed to have an enchantment about it that caused a permanent effect of rainy weather on the isle, and the construct, seemingly for it’s own amusement, decided that the weather’d be changed to a sunny day, overpowering the local  enchantment. And so on what was now a nice sunny day, Ivan and his companions, and Kii, Valka, Nik, and Tisi took to the rocky shore of the island in dinghys.

The island was a miserable rock, sticking up out of the ocean to the West of the Southerlands/Velakor, with a trio of towers sticking out of its heights, and its structure burrowing into the rocky form of the island. Each tower was armed with a ballista, and to the rear (or rather opposite side of the island from The Ninth Life) was a nice, if modest, manor.

Once we made it to the shore Ivan went ahead and talked with the warden commander and seemed to have legitimate papers and explained the situation at hand. The commander went about readying the island’s defences and Valka whined loudly, convincing the warden commander to let us relax in his place of residence before the fighting began. On our way there we saw the kitchen of the complex (Valka hopefully asked if they could get some food, but it had already been lunch time a bit ago and they weren’t willing to compromise). 

So the group ended up at the commander’s place of residence, and were allowed to stay there for the time being, until all the screaming and shouting and terrible, terrible battle began. In the main room was a queer game board, set up to be used with miniature soldiers on a mock field of battle. Tisiphone and Valka could not figure out how to play that so they used the miniature soldiers to play chess, which didn’t go particularly well as there was no grid and they kept arguing over which pieces were where/how they could move. Eventually Tisi went off to check on Kii, who had flitted off into the warden’s study, and found her looking horrified at a set of papers that referred to the isle’s prisoners as by monikers, namely Tile-Liker (a halfling jailed for sex-crimes), Merchant (an elf arrested for evading Pragian taxation [Tisiphone said to leave them, as she had little love for elves]), and, lastly, The Heir. The Heir was a human, seemingly of noble status, and being subject to some of the most terrible treatment imaginable, he was kept bound around the clock, and fed little more than table scraps left over from the previous night’s prepared food. Alongside this he was quite regularly to be beaten and lashed, otherwise being left shackled beneath the kitchen of the isle, in the very midst of the fortress. Kii was tearing up as she realized that this very well may be her brother, and realized the treatment he must have been suffering since the Pragian takeover, this whole while. Valka sent out his Clockwork Spy “Edward” off to find that prisoner and inspect him, to see if we could determine if he was our man. The clockwork spider scuttled off to go investigate.

Meanwhile Valka was raiding the warden commander’s larder, and came to notice a rack of wine bottles, up on a higher shelf. He beckoned over Nik, bidding him to help reach the out-of-reach alcohol. Tisiphone chided him, pointedly saying to keep it for a “libation or celebration” once this was over with. Nik stowed away the booze, and Valka pouted. Edward appeared once more, delivering an audio recording of this “The Heir” prisoner. Within moments of the recording playing Kii knew that it was in fact her brother Roland de Velakor. She was beyond elated. After a bit we reckoned that it was about the time that Jodd the Butcher would be arriving, by the sounds of the commotion outside. Everyone drank their potions of Resist Energy (Electricity) and See Invisible. After doing so Kii froze. There was someone in the room with us. One of Ivan’s men.

Kii lept past Valka (terrifying the poor boy) and electrocuted the spy with a Shocking Grasp before he could realize what precisely was happening. This done, the group headed out, with Valka and Abe splitting off and entering the kitchen, above Roland’s holding chamber to rescue the heir. Kii looked about the room and down past the grate with Valka for a moment, before heading back to join the group. As she reached the front courtyard/beach a HUGE crack of thunder and a blue blur sped by, and one of the island’s towers erupted in an electrical explosion, throwing masonry into the sea, lighting men ablaze, and quite destroying the tower. Jodd and his dragon flew about, landing near where our boats had been landed. He leapt down from the saddle upon the dragon and landed and began roaring furiously at the assembled guards, about  a dozen in total “I am Jodd the Butcher, Dragon Rider, and I have come to take my brother, Roland! If you dare stand before me I will crush you and throw your bodies to the sea!”

Having seen which way the winds were blowing, and realizing their cause was one and the same, Tisiphone, Nik, and Kii opened up on the backline of the guards, Kii herself stabbing and subsequently Force Punching the warden commander off into the sea at such a furious velocity that his body ripped apart with the force of the blow. Given the treatment of Roland, he probably deserved it. Tisiphone gave Jodd a friendly wave after unloading her repeater’s clip into a man. In the kitchen, Valka melted the locks off of the floor hatch separating Roland’s cell from the kitchen, before unspooling some rope, tying it off, and then shimmying down into the cell. He fed Roland a Potion of Critical WOunds which made him quite suddenly more hale and hardy, though it did nothing to replace the lost left arm and right leg (the arm lost at the lower forearm and the leg not too below the knee).

Jodd’s dragon flew to another tower and devoured the men manning the ballista, and Jodd himself charged the guards frontline and pulped a man’s head with his maul. Flushed Jodd tried to say two things at once, instead saying “Fancy meeting you here again!”, and we engaged in what ended up being a rather swift melee against the remaining guards. Beneath, in Roland’s cell, Valka hid, as someone came to the cell door, looked through the vision slot, then closed it and went off. Valka slowly, but surely, undid Roland’s bonds, before picking him up clumsily and preparing to climb up to the upper floor with him. Kii, however, was finished with the combat, and cast a Dimensional Door into the cell and grabbed Roland from Valka, and returned to the shore with him (leaving Valka to haul himself back up to the kitchen).

On the shore, amidst a spread of corpses that was attracting seabirds, beneath a burning tower, a particularly petty sibling spat began, between a powerful spellsword and a mighty dragon rider. Kii and Jodd both claimed that Roland was their brother, and seemed unwilling to settle on letting him be the brother to both of them. Valka and Tisiphone were a bit taken aback, realizing both how terribly their own bickering with their respective siblings must have come across. Eventually, through the intervention of Roland, Tisiphone, and Valka, we came to know that both Kii and Jodd were half-brother to Roland, through their father (the old man got around, seemingly Jodd was born of an adulterous tryst between the king and a Pragian noblewoman, Roland was, of course, the only surviving rightful heir born of royal marriage, and Kii is of course half air spirit).

Now agreed that Roland was brother to both of them, Kii and Jodd were delighted to be in his presence. Kii had made herself known to Roland only as an elusive, young fae thing, existing largely in secret after being delivered unto the kingdom’s door step by her elemental parent. Jodd, meanwhile, seemed to have known about Roland for sometime, but had held his tongue on it for some time. Once he heard of the regicide of the Velakor family, but then heard that Roland may yet still survive, Jodd had taken it upon himself to become someone with the power to do something about it, pouring himself into becoming a dragon rider of Pragia (he was born to Pragian nobility of course) and using that to find and take Roland back, or die trying. Jodd certainly is an impressive physical specimen, but he truly is only 19, and his attitude often shows it. And Kii...she really, really is a little sister (paradoxically she is actually the oldest by age, but we’ve decided to start stating the difference between “age” and “maturity” with fantasy races, as it can all be a bit relative at times). Roland is a 23 year old man, and still young, but his time has certainly aged him a bit prematurely, and left it’s scars on him, physical and mental.

So, the Nik, Tisiphone, and Valka (of course with Tisi and Nik rowing) took the landing boat back to the ship and took the second landing boat with them, as they’d not seen hide nor hair of Ivan and his men aside from the one spy, and were not going to wait for them at all.

Meanwhile, Ivan waited to spring his plot, knowing that the idiots would blunder down to the island’s lower depths to free Roland. The sounds of battle had  died down, so soon enough they would be coming down, by whatever pretenses, to free The Heir, and then he would have rid the world of the last remnants of the de Velakor line. Ivan waited to spring his trap patiently, as slowly it began raining. Ivan and his men would be left on that island until the next supply ship would come by, which may take a up to a year, maybe two.

On the deck of the Ninth Life Captain Valka commanded his servant, the Stormbreaker, to get them away from the wretched island, and so they did. The wine stolen from the warden’s manor was spread about, in celebration of reunited siblings (really, seeing the de Velakors together was heartwarming) and while a drunken Valka came to play against a mildly buzzed Roland (who beat the catfolk handily), Kii approached Tisiphone and asked her about the Southerlander’s clockwork arm, and how she’d come to get it. Tisi took a long draught of the wine and let it come into her system before telling Kii the story, after which Kii asked if she could fashion clockwork limbs for her crippled brother, which of course she agreed to (seeing the young man hobble about was a terrible sight).

Nik, meanwhile, feels a fair bit worse (despite making friends with Jodd’s dragon, Bluon [look he named it when he was like, 10, give him a break]), for his own lack of family. He watches the sea pass by a lot on The Ninth Life’s journey towards the Western Kingdoms (our next destination after a pit stop or two), feeling very lonely as a tiefling among the humans and others aboard the ship.

[scaredandbored]

frailty, thy name is leonard mccoy

(title is a rip-off of shakespeare’s line “frailty, thy name is woman” from hamlet)

warnings : THERE ARE SPOILERS IN THE WARNINGS

 1- look bones gets kidnapped by aliens who are totally against their planet’s agreement with the federation and he gets beaten up pretty bad. im not sure how to warn specifics for this, but there’s physical violence and blood and stuff so if you don’t like that, this isn’t for you

2- this is my first time writing with a vague plot in mind so please feel free to tear into it with the ol’ constructive criticism

3- there IS a lengthy discussion of a “global viral pandemic” but it ain’t covid and it ain’t earth so s’long as words like “outbreak” “viral” “pandemic” “global pandemic” “isolation” etc don’t bother you it should be ok

4- bones is in it so there is cursing. also spock kinda gets Overly Protective so if yall dont like that give this one a skip (not that im always shit at writing spock anyway)

5- oop character death didn’t expect that but the plot goes where the plot wants to go

no editing we die like men

it IS a spones fic who do you think i am   

words : 3,523

When the Anti-Federation Rebels did not return by the time Leonard’s throat had begun to itch with thirst, he started to realise that he wasn’t critically injured Had any properly trained Starfleet officer been put in his situation, they probably wouldn’t even bother showing up to medbay at this stage. But he wasn’t properly trained. Just a bumbling country doctor the fleet had stupidly thought would thrive while being held responsible for the lives of the entire crew of their flagship. He wasn’t built for this kind of thing, he wasn’t trained. Physically and emotionally weaker than the rest of the crew, and completely ignorant of the politics and mind games involved in space travel; he was in pain. All he had wanted was to try and stop the spread of the virus, and look where that had gotten him.

He’d strong-armed Kirk into taking this mission. Pulled in a few favours. He’d not been keeping a particularly close eye on the negotiations happening between the official representatives of Caughlaigh and the United Federation of Planets, but when he’d heard about the viral outbreak on the main content of the planet, Leonard McCoy knew they weren’t equipped to handle the situation. The night he first heard about the outbreak, he’d asked Kirk what he’d known about Caughlaigh, to which the captain had responded : “To be perfectly honest, not much, Bones.”, before neatly taking Spock’s rook with a knight. Spock had raised an eyebrow at Leonard’s sudden breaking of the comfortable silence in the room. The eyebrow crept a millimetre higher at the captain’s unprecedented move. Leonard decided to drop the conversation and forget about it. He knew he didn’t know everything about the situation. He knew Starfleet would’ve looked at the medical capabilities of the people of Caughlaigh and reacted accordingly. He knew Spock was underestimating the importance of that particular move made by Jim. He’d thought maybe he was underestimating the Caughlaigh officials. Jim had won that particular match. 

Two days later, a recommended news story on his personal PADD told him the situation on Caughlaigh had escalated from an outbreak to a pandemic. There were cases in every settlement on the main continent, and the spread of the virus to the other two smaller continents was inevitable. He’d hung behind after watching Spock destroy Jim at chess three times in a row to tell the captain what he’d learned. Jim had smiled softly in the way he always did when Leonard was being unnecessarily worrisome. “I’m sure the powers that be are making sure no-one is in any real danger.” A friendly clap on the shoulder that the rest of the crew would’ve taken in their stride shook McCoy slightly. “Now, I recommend you get yourself a good night’s rest, Bones.” Leonard had grumbled something about not knowing Jim had gotten a medical license.

Another two days later, another recommended news story. The first deaths from the virus had happened in the epicentre of the pandemic, the largest settlement on the main continent had lost their main healer and her most trained assistant. McCoy set up his PADD so that any articles regarding the Caughlaigh Pandemic would be automatically downloaded, available to read even if they entered some electromagnetic storms or some other astro-phenomenon he didn’t fully understand.

A week later, three inhabitants of one of the smaller continents passed away. Leonard had gone to Jim with the intention of seeking comfort from the closest thing he had to a friend on this godforsaken tin can. He’d come back six hours later with a promise from his captain and Starfleet that the Enterprise was going to assist with the Caughlaigh situation.

A day later, Leonard hand picked multiple ensigns and a few nurses to take with him to the surface to work on the frontlines. Commander Spock had formally contested the logic in sending down the ship’s chief medical officer to work in a hospital instead of working on a cure back at the ship. Leonard’s friend Spock had requested he be unwavering in his sanitation and self-preservation on the surface.

He’d only been on the surface for a week when he’d been knocked out while he was scrubbing up for a surgery. The anti-federation rebels had noticed his uniform and taken him for a great deal of questioning. They used a method that was rather... forceful. 

They had left him alone, finally. Maybe they had realised he wasn’t going to cooperate. Most likely they were taking a break to make sure they didn’t render him useless before they could exploit him for information. Lucky for him.

Leonard McCoy didn’t enjoy bright lights at the best of times; as a boy growing up in Georgia he’d always been mocked by his peers for his adverse reaction to the harsh sunlight, whether it was violently scrunching up his face or wearing sunglasses every time he stepped outside the door. He’d eventually stopped wearing the sunglasses, migraines be damned. A kid can only take so much ridicule. Now, decades later, he found himself irrationally wishing he’d taken his sunglasses with him. He had to focus on how much the harsh, almost surgical lights were paining him. Had to, unless he wanted to focus on the rest of his aching body. 

He could heard the sound of his captors making their way back into the room he’d been strapped up in, and began to pull helplessly at his bonds, which did nothing but give him friction burns around his wrists and ankles. He tried to speak but instead of his voice, a pained hiss of air rushed out from somewhere low in his throat as a clawed foot connected with his stomach.

Clinically, Leonard registered the puncturing of the skin over his stomach, but failed to extrapolate any further medical analysis as pain seared from the wounds. A fist connected with his nose. There was a crack, then more pain. He could feel blood rushing down his lower face, could feel it looking between his lips, could taste it when his mouth opened in a gasp for air as something constricted his breathing.

Thrashing his head, Leonard desperately tried to get a glimpse of who was in the room with him, tried to figure out where they were coming from, where they’d hit him next, but the lights were blinding him, his eyes were burning, he was pretty sure his nose was broken, he was bleeding, he... he was alone.

An open palm struck his face while another clawed foot pressed painfully at the base of his spine. It was probably his imagination, but Leonard thought he could hear his old bones creak and groan under the pressure.

His lips grew tacky with the blood that continued to gush from his nose, and his head spun. He couldn’t stop himself from jerking his arms instinctively to press against the throbbing wounds to his stomach, which caused the restraints on his wrists to dig into his skin.

A cold, almost-leather strap was clamped around his neck, and it was tight, much too tight. He tried to tell them, desperate mewlings that went ignored as his nose kept bleeding and his stomach kept churning and he couldn’t think and then there was a strong, cold, seven fingered hand gripping his jaw, forcing his chin up.

A growl, from someone Leonard couldn’t see, corresponded with a significant tightening of the grip on his jaw. His head was full of feathers, he was sure of it. A soft, swan-like down that was probably stained brick red from the steady stream pouring out of his nose, out of his gut-

He felt his jaw shatter and his head hit the ground.

***

“Bones, please respond.” The captain had been comming his CMO for upwards of an hour now, ever since he failed to give his morning report. He hadn’t been particularly worried about Bones’s failure to report precisely on time; he’d always had an awful internal clock. The only reason he was starting to worry now was that his away team hadn’t seen Dr.McCoy since lunchtime yesterday. 

Now, if it had been an away team of senior officers, he’d believe Bones would’ve felt no need to check in with the crew, but he’d taken down a bunch of ensigns to try and give them some experience on the field, and Bones was the biggest mother hen Jim had ever met. “Spock, life signs?”

Spock hadn’t looked up from his console all morning, which was a worry in itself. “The doctor removed his comm badge before retiring last night, earlier than normal, captain. He has not reattached it since.” 

“You’re telling me we can’t find him?” Jim was trying to keep his professionalism, but when his friend was unaccounted for on a politically volatile planet, he thought he could be forgiven a little terseness. 

Spock took longer to reply than usual, his hands fiddling with what Jim knew to be more sensitive equipment than their general sensors. “There is no terran life-forms outside of the planet-side transporter location within our sensor range, captain.” 

“And what exactly is our sensor range, Mr.Spock?” Angling for less confrontational, Jim found himself using a tone of voice he knew Spock had difficulty discerning whether it was angry or not. To make up for this, Jim perched himself on the edge of Spock’s console, placing his hand on the back of the chair and leaning in closer so he could look at the readings himself. 

“We can scan the entire surface of the planet with the assistance of the numerous towers planet-side. However, we can only penetrate approximately six feet below the surface due to the composition of the planet’s soil. It contains isotopes which-”

“Thank you Mr.Spock, I understand.” Normally, Jim would indulge Spock in his analysis, but time could very well have been a resource they were lacking. “Six feet, you say?”

“Affirmative, captain.” Spock was looking directly at him, his normal micro-expressions invisible to Jim. 

“Well, at least we know he’s not dead.” 

“Captain?”

“I’ll explain later, Mr.Spock. Mr.Scott?” The crackle of the infamously bad reception from the engine room rang over the bridge’s intercom. 

“Aye, captain?”

“Any chance we could get those sickbay kids back onboard?”

“Aye sir. I had someone repair those transporters this mornin’.”

“Excellent. Bridge out.” Kirk took a steadying breath. Just one. He couldn’t let the panic he could feel settling low in his chest affect his ability to command the ship. Especially when the livelihood of the ship’s CMO depended on that ability. “Transporter room?”

“Sir?”

“Have we got a lock on the away team?”

“All bar one, captain. Do you have the coordinates of Dr.McCoy?”

“Not right now, no. Beam up the rest, and have them report to my ready room.”

“Aye, sir.” 

Jim closed his eyes for a moment, vaguely aware of Spock standing up from his station. “Alright, Mr.Spock. Let’s find out what we can from these officers before we go jumping to any conclusions.” 

***

Leonard woke as his head was thrown against what felt like a stone wall, blood bubbling in the back of his throat. He could only hope the blood was from his nose and not his lungs, although both his face and chest were aching equally. 

A hand pinned him to the wall by the back of his neck, grinding his face against the gritty surface. Tiny pebbles scraped at the skin of his face, and he could feel his head spin as concern about an infection flitted in and out of the overwhelming bouts of different kinds of pain. A burning pain on his face from the fiction between his cheek and the gravely wall, a sharp pain in his nose (broken, if the amount of blood pooling above his upper lip was anything to go by), another sharp pain somewhere on the back of his head (sticky substance on back of neck: sweat or blood?), various, almost insignificant pains along and around his torso, an overall stiffness, and, oh Jesus. 

A shriek ripped its way out of his severely dehydrated throat as a scaled fist collided with his side, tugging at the skin which they had haphazardly sewn back together while he’d been knocked out. The area around the wound was warm, and the second the fist made contact with his side he could feel something oozing out of it. Not good, his brain helpfully supplied. The scream that had perforated the room left him whimpering in pain, his jaw a horrific cocktail of sharp, stabbing pains and dull aches, a bitter metallic taste stinging at his taste buds. 

A voice, speaking a language he didn’t know, was coming from somewhere in the room, too far away to be his assailant. Then, right beside his ear, from a tongue not designed to verbalise Standard : “They come.” 

Leonard could feel a sharp talon being pressed against the junction between the hinge of his jaw and his ear, not piercing the skin, not yet. It took him a while to try and figure out what they meant, then he gave a sharp, barking laugh followed by a coughing fit, splattering the wall he was pressed against. Jesus Christ. “You’re on some goddamn dumb shit if y’all think they ain’t halfway across y’all’s galaxy by this point.” 

The faraway, foreign vocalisations. The talon jabbed forcefully into his skin, making him groan, feeling a warm trickle of blood slither down his neck to pool with whatever was dripping down the back of his neck. 

He’d been crying since before he’d woken up, at least he thought so. “They ain’t comin’ you goddamn idiots, get your paws the fuck offa me.” His voice was thin and non-threatening, even to his own ears. The talon dragged itself down, towards his carotid artery. Leonard’s shriek was trapped in his throat as he squirmed, pressing himself further into the wall in a pathetic attempt to escape the motion. He could hear the owner of the slowly advancing talon release a hiss, before jerking it back up to his ear, deepening the wound. 

He could hear his own sobs bouncing off of the walls, echoing around his head. They weren’t coming. They couldn’t come, they’d get caught too, they had to leave him. The shudder that ran through his body tugged at the rancid stitches in his stomach, the shifting of his clothes hitting him with his own stench: dried blood, fresh blood, sweat, urine, and vomit. 

Must’ve thrown up while unconscious.

Why didn’t I choke on it, damnit?

His stomach heaved, his stitched popped, and he felt himself crumple, but was unconscious before he felt to the ground with a dull crack.  

***

“Captain it’s been three days-”

“I won’t give up the search-”

“I would not suggest we cease our search, captain. I was suggesting you allow me to proceed ahead at my own pace, as I believe I will be more efficient in locating the doctor than the security team.”

“I need you here, Spock.”

“You do not.”

Jim had never seen Spock like this before, never born witness to his unwavering loyalty secondhand. He was used to being found by a Spock who had already begun to lose his  version of a frantic disposition. He did not know what to do with a Spock who looked like he was going to go ahead with his own plan regardless of orders received. “Spock-”

“You have many competent officers aboard who would be willing to assist you in interviewing the locals.”

Jim tilted his head, giving his first officer a warning look which he had a feeling went ignored. “Are you suggesting my search team is incompetent, Mr.Spock?”

His eyebrows jumped as Spock clearly opened his mouth to give his agreement. Spock quickly checked himself and closed his mouth, took a deep breath, then leveled Jim with a look he knew all too well. Spock had picked it up from him. “I am merely noting your CMO has been missing for three days, presumed in mortal danger.” It was a vulcanised version of the look Jim got before disobeying a direct order from a superior.

“I need you back alive. Both of you.” 

Spock blinked once in what Jim hoped was a promise before he was gone.

***

The team of redshirts trailed behind Spock as he followed the sound of a gentle scraping his human teammates had not been able to hear. The sound grew louder as they wound their way through a cave system that was almost too dark for him to see in. Spock’s already brisk pace grew even faster as a pained groan joined the scraping noise, an eerily human expression of pain. 

The team following him broke out into a full sprint the second they heard a yell coming from directly ahead. Spock froze at the familiarity of that yell. He’d heard it more times than he cared to, and his stomach lurched at what it implied. Snapping into action, he easily outstripped the rest of the team, who yelled for him to stop. 

Spock did not stop.

He burst into a wide open cavern flooded with bright light, felt his second eyelid slide shut, and in the split second it took for his eyes to adjust, there were three pairs of eyes fixed on him. Two threatening, reptilian humanoids watched him carefully, as Spock stood, frozen. McCoy was looking at him, but his eyes were glazed over, his face gaunt and bloody, his bare feet slipping in a puddle of his own shockingly red blood as he was held up by his neck by one of the two friendly locals. Spock felt cold, and he could feel his heart drop to his pelvic girdle as he was unable to see the rise and fall of the doctor’s chest. He couldn’t move. The captors were stood in shock, uncertain what to do with their intruder.

“S....Sp....” McCoy blinked slowly and tried to speak. The sound of his voice struggling up through a restricted throat, past a mangled jaw, desperately trying to form the sounds of his name brought a fury Spock had never known.

He felt a growl rumble in his chest, and when the lizard holding McCoy by the neck gave the doctor a shake, Spock launched himself. He was vaugly aware of a scuffle ensuing behind him, but his focus was totally on pulverising this creature who had dared to try and take Leonard from him. 

Wrapping an arm around Leonard’s chest elicited a pained mewl from his tiny doctor, which sent another surge of red through Spock, as he shoved the creature away from them instead of trying to pull Leonard away, but the creature dug its talons in instead of letting go. Spock could feel Leonard jerk forward, pulled by the nails embedded in his neck. A strangled noise left Spock as he leaned forward and sank his teeth into the hand, which released Leonard in surprise. Immediately, Spock slipped McCoy behind him, his concern slowly growing to outtake his anger as Leonard’s pained noises grew more and more frequent. Backing into a corner, Spock’s eyes did not leave the advancing opponent.

There was a flash of light, the lizard fell, and Spock immediately turned to Leonard, his hands flying to the psi-points on the doctors face without hesitation, totally unaware of the frail hands shakily trying to pry him away. Spock joined to McCoy without hesitating, ascertaining the extent of the damage.

That wasn’t a very good idea, darlin’. 

Spock had not wanted his first meld with Leonard to be like this, not filled with more pain than he knew the doctor could withstand, not feeling the ghosts of what he knew, logically, were recent, fatal wounds, and older, debilitating lacerations and fractures.

You may not leave. 

Since when have I ever done what y’told me to, Spock?

His thoughts were... surprisingly direct for a human untrained in vulcan ways, but the way they were growing gradually quieter was enough to send Spock into a panic which he tried desperately to tamp down. 

On Vulcan, one’s spouse always  obeys their husband.

Who’s t’say y’ain’t the one who’s ‘posed to do th’ obeyin’?

Spock felt a flash of pain as Leonard tried to smile, then the connection went dead. 

Leonard had slammed up a mental barrier, and Spock did not have time to wonder where he had learned to do that, not as he was desperately pressing at Leonard’s psi-points while fixedly staring at the increasingly unsteady rise and fall of the his chest. Spock’s gazed fixed in horror at the stark white slip of collarbone protruding from the skin with every inhale. 

By the time the familiar fizz of the transporter surrounded them, Spock was no longer fighting against the mental barrier, but was still unable to make contact with the spirited doctor.

***

Jim had known Spock’s expression had meant he was going to disobey an order. He’d hoped by giving the order Spock had wanted, to bring his two best friends home, to avoid that. He should’ve known better.          

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

35 Q’s for Fanfic Writers

From this post

I’m having a shitty, rude alter-y, crap night so I’m just going to answer all of these to distract myself and focus and to not bother anybody just making my own post and putting it under the cut btw, notice to anyone not aware: since I’m moving I won’t likely be updating anything until I’m done doing so.

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing?  (No downplaying yourself!) 3/5? Could use more editing and description and can be weirdly paced.

2. Why do you write fanfiction? Because it’s better than focusing on pain 24/7. 

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works? I don’t seem to have a specific narrative voice that people recognize but I’m pretty proud of mostly organic dialogue. 

4. Are there any writers that inspire you? as a rule i never look up to anybody for inspiration but there’s some stuff in my ao3 bookmarks I fawn over.

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of? Right now, none of them. It changes normally, anyway. If get too proud then I’d get my ass kicked by RSD if someone didn’t like it so it’s safer this way

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily? Dialogue. 

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most? Organic description, poetic language kind of stuff. I can paint a scene but I’m not so great with bring out out a feeling with description alone.

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write? Janus and Virgil are probably tied. They both have things I struggle with but I don’t have to go back and do much adjusting of language and tone with them. Though admittedly my Virgil is signifigantly more foul-mouthed than canon and I tend to prefer pre-AA feral asshole Virgil.

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write? Patton. I write him the least, so people can probably tell. I love Patton, I really do, but it’s so hard to keep away from fanon Patton. 

10. What’s your favorite genre to write for? Angst w/ H/C obviously. Or if you’re talking about regular book genres, Fantasy. I fucking love fantasy world building.

11. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most? Trauma. I blame Daeram. As if Ayri isn’t a giant Angst Demon.

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about. Slopes. I’m really into it. I’ve got three one shots running right now. Patrons can read the first part of the unnamed cat remus one, there’s also a coffeeshop au tropey nonsense one like eglantine & lycoris, but Slopes is addiction angst. Mmmmm. Virgil is addicted to coke and alcohol and will listening to his friends even be in time? Who knows, especially not me, but there’s already over 30k. 

13. First fandom you ever wrote for? InuYasha. Or was it Harry Potter? Or shit, The Blue Sword? Fuck, I’ve been writing for a long time, I really have no idea.

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for? Sanders Sides. The characters are the perfect dynamic for writing since they exist in balance of each other and the popular, easy to project on archetypes featured are incredibly fun to do basically any scenario with.

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for? Weird storywise? Kingdom Hearts? I can’t even follow the plot anymore. Weird Fandomwise? Sanders Sides. Its simultainiously the fluffiest and angstiest nonsense at the same time.

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)? Vampires. Gay ones. Gay Vampires. I also love calm tol and angy smol.

17. A trope you’ll never, ever write for. Any tropes that normalize incredibly toxic behaviour or tropes that are inherantly ableist, but I can’t think of any.

18. Wildest fic you’ve ever written? Incorrigible continues to be complete nonsense.

19. Do you prefer canon-compliant, AUs, or something in-between? AUs. I mean closest I even have is canon-divergence other than a single short.

20. Gen fic or shippy stuff? I like it when there is gay nonsense along with a plot that is treated as more important than the relationship the most. But I like both. There’s more shippy stuff in tss so i read more shipping action by default.

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!) Anxceit/Sleepxiety, but in general, give me darksides or give me death/j

22. Do you listen to anything while you write? Almost everything I write has a special playlist I listen to to help me write it, but otherwise I listen to my Nyan playlist, an alter is picking the tunes, or a voidfam playlist. I never have music off. When my internet is down I just listen to the songs I own or Anxiety’s theme on loop.

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas? I’m fine with all of them. I love working with prompts but I tend to deviate. And I’ve never done a challenge since I can’t do deadlines and bad things happen bingo never sent me a card and I applied three times.

24. One-shots or multi-chaptered works? I am generally multi-chaptered stuff, but I’ve been working on a few one-shots lately that are much longer than most one shots.

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them! I was originally thinking of doing some little 13-year-old Dreaming!Roman (y’know, the one with a job) shorts but it turns out I just had an alter of that little bastard and that’s why I inexplicably know more about him then I ever even considered. I still might do them after Dreaming is done. But that’s paced so slowly who knows when that might happen. Otherwise I put stuff in my notes and just do shorts of it if I’m like “oh you know what’s cool???” but since I can’t daydream maybe this question doesn’t apply to me.

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try? I want to do more autism stuff, and I’ve had it demanded a few times, but I’m scared of being that explict about it for some reason. Possibly because I might be, possibly because I’m scared of doing it wrong even though I’ve accidentally coded multiple characters autistic. I’m scared of explictly tagging them as such, too. 

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received? That I can remember off the top of my head? I’m going with one from @a-genz-with-trauma-and-kins. It really helped me out and was just so kind and literally the best christmas gift I got in 2020. 

28. How well do you handle criticism when it comes to your writing? I can handle it alright but Daeram is a little fucking pissbaby about it. Constructive criticism helps people get better, so I appreciate it. I can’t handle critism that is incomplete, though. “i just don’t get it” or “I don’t know I don’t like it” kind of things. If I can’t understand the why to fix it then things get out of control. And then I spiral and RSD for like four days minimum. If it came from an anon or a troll, too, It might not bother me for as long. Things that are just like “this is shit and you should feel bad” just make me laugh. Couldn’t even bother to read it long enough to insult me proper? I don’t care.

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out? I have a few times. Mostly in shorts and prompts, I think. I think they turned out okay. They’re not particularly inspired or anything.

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst? Depends on my mood. Am I triggered? give me the fluff. Am I vibin? Angst. 

31. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them! Fuck, fam, no, I can’t, I have so many. I have multiple original stories and some of them have very large casts and like holy fuck. Or do you mean in Sanders Sides fandom? Um, Morgan and Thorn in PD. The lesbian and her himbo dynamic. I love them. They’re dorks. Morgan is strong person with sharp tongue and soft romantic heart and Thorn is just so kind and so dumb and so exciteable he’s like a puppy. They were just filler characters and I got attached to them. Felton even gets redemption for being an ass later in PD, like oof i never intended to include so much OC content, especially for names I just picked randomly. 

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less. nope I’m doing all of them because these are fun plea for my new self: 2 gay vampires, 4 humans, 1 braincell dreaming while I wake: trauma child needs therapy and so do you break: big oof, oh dragons, oh why, go virgil go rebuild: virgil is so not okay there’s more virgil to deal painful death: gay teens drink themselves into a new religion stargazing: whoops we didn’t realize people actually cared whole castle: everyone will throw down for kid!patton, even you incorrigible: found family with a shot of psychological horror and crack dangerous instincts: wholesome crime syndacite action  slopes: addict gets mugged and thinks that’s just fine with him conflagration: logan avoids everything ever like a champ cat!remus: bored fae shifts gay pining from one person to another  caffeine cyptids: caffinated gay panic goes faster than regular gay panic eglantine & lycoris: more tropes than you can toss a shoe at storytime: overpowered virgil also overreacts literally always

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process? an alter and I write together and I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen, what I’m writing about, or even what year it is. I often don’t even remember what I wrote. There’s no outline. I have an idea and I pick things at random for it. There’s just notes and an evil gleam in a demon’s eye. The only reason I know more than readers is because I take a long time to edit and some of these stories have fucking alters up in my head who can tell me things. Daeram tells me nothing. The writing demon supposedly has all this knowledge but I have absolutely no clue because he does not talk to me, he just fronts and slams out 9k in a few hours or we cofront to write and I’m like “oh no she didn’t” while typing 

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of. i’m fond of the entire painful death series and I tried to find something I really liked without spoilers in stargazing and I couldn’t so here’s a random thing from incorrigble: “So, what do you do with your friends?” Patton continued on with a megawatt smile. “Grand larceny,” Virgil deadpanned and glared at Patton, who was taken aback. Remy and Andy just broke out laughing while Virgil tentatively sipped his still-too-hot-cocoa. 

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!  slopes my dudes slopes i have learned so much about cocaine! like wow! I thought for a minute it was going to end with MCD around 30k but it swtiched from whump to hurt/comfort and I still don’t know if it’s going to be MCD but look at that funky little coke/alcohol addict go, it’s a medical wonder he’s alive! It’s not like there’s what seems to be a little talked about interaction between alcohol and cocaine that causes a toxic chemical to build up in the liver which can result in liver failure and sudden death at basically any moment! Which is part of why it may result in MCD but this time no ghosts! maybe it’ll be h/c with whump elements or maybe it’ll be whump with h/c elements we can’t know for sure

[complicatedandstained]

Rules of Engagement: Fake It ‘Til You Make It

The road is still rough along the side streets of Radiant Garden, the concrete pathways lined with cracks and crevices deep-set as Yen Sid’s frown lines and rough with rubble and particularly stubborn weeds that spring up against all odds—dandelions, mostly. The Restoration Committee has higher priorities. So, Roxas has become something of an expert at curving his skateboard around the worst of it, coaxing his wheels out of divots and dips without stopping his progress entirely. 

He’s cleared some of the alleyways around Axel’s forge of debris himself, and now glides from the main thoroughfare onto one such side street to avoid running into anyone else and making himself any later than he already is. 

Although, he thinks, as he glances up to the suns, climbing higher toward midday, and readjusts the bags beneath his arm, at this rate another half hour won’t make a huge difference. 

Roxas inhales a mouthful of charcoal and jumps his winged board over the most jagged pothole in the alley, his wheels rattling their objections as he sticks the landing and slows. The forge’s back door, which they all keep meaning to replace, is a hastily hammered together collection of boards, painted black with fire-retardant and sprayed with a jagged white 813 by whoever does that sort of thing. 

Probably Demy, Roxas supposes, trying to mark the spot for his wildly erratic delivery route.  

Like many of the recompleted Organization members who had been reunited with their own bodies, (or else given the Radiant Garden scientists quite a shock when they had awoken in the replicas’ chamber), Demy had chosen to take advantage of Leon’s offer to help repopulate and rehabilitate the world many of them had been born in. In doing so, the members had to prove themselves a benefit to society through hard work, education, and community service. 

Jiminy Cricket offered them each regular therapy sessions, and they were required to pass a psychiatric evaluation before permanently moving to any other worlds. So far, rumor had it, only Isa had managed, but he had chosen to stay. They were each assigned “Sponsors of Light” to aid them in their progress. 

Xigbar likened the entire situation to house arrest on more than one occasion, but the former Org members mainly kept their grumbling to themselves. There were certainly worse arrangements to be had than being allowed to carry out their new lives in exile on their former home world. They’d all died enough times to know that. 

They were held accountable by both the Restoration Committee Leaders and the new Council of Keyblade Masters, who, with the assistance of keyblade armor, were able to make their rounds through the worlds faster than Sora’s Gummi Ship ever had and keep the peace. Roxas, Axel, and Xion had been asked to join them on their peace-keeping journeys, and, maybe, probably, eventually, they would. But, after being forced to exchange so much of their youth so far for fighting Heartless 24/7, they had decided to live as close to normal lives as they were able, for the time being, (and the Keyblade Masters had likely breathed a private sigh of relief, especially since Axel’s exact initial response had been ‘Fuck that’). 

Roxas hops off his skateboard, pops his board up into his waiting hand, and sets it against the aged brick wall beside another rebellious pack of wispy white dandelions that he and Axel haven’t found it in their hearts to uproot.  

Roxas doesn’t—hasn’t ever—knocked on the door to Axel’s forge, and he doesn’t today. Still, he can’t stop himself from thinking of it as Axel’s, even though Axel considers it theirs—even though Roxas has spent many long, sweaty days, helping Leon and his crew construct the thing and harnessing his fire magic to learn the basics of the trade at his boyfriend’s side. 

At the end of the day, it’s Axel’s peace time passion project, something besides finishing up his education and keyblade training, something that’s entirely his own. So, at Roxas’ insistence, it’s Axel’s name on the sign out front, and the deed, and the contracts with the Restoration Committee.

And he’d had to fight for it. 

Most of the former members of the Organization weren’t permitted to take up quite such dangerous lines of work. Isa, for example, had been in charge of coordinating gardening, landscaping, and agriculture with Laurium for several months before The Council of Keyblade Masters (Aqua, Terra, and Riku) permitted him to take up a management position at Leon’s side, allocating human resources for the Restoration Committee. 

Similarly, Xemnas’ venture into penning New Radiant Garden’s first newspaper were heavily criticized, and his articles and e-newsletters regularly vetted for ‘Dark Propaganda,’ so that the first twenty editions were nothing more than tremendously, intrusively accurate gossip rags, and, when that didn’t fly, painstakingly, comically accurate accounts of the town’s most mundane events, including an in depth feature report on Leon’s favorite sandwich toppings, complete with quotes and multiple eye witness accounts. 

It took half a year (and some nudging from Isa) before Xemnas was allowed to print anything remotely political or consequential, though once he began, he quickly proved himself just as capable of factual, unbiased journalism as he had been at penning a wickedly witty exposé on Xigbar’s brief but passionate on-and-off-again romantic trysts. (This was, of course, before Xigbar got himself tossed in the castle dungeon for allegedly attempting to portal his Sponsor of Light off a cliff. Although his sentence is up for appeal, last Roxas heard, because Xigbar claims he thought ducks could fly.) 

Axel’s fortunate that he didn’t have to spend a year proving himself (and has been told so—repeatedly.) 

The town needed a forge, and Axel was uniquely qualified for the position. (And the Council had wanted him out of their hair. He had proved quite persistent.) So, Axel had gotten what he wanted. Seventeen petition speeches later. 

Isa warned them it was a lot to take on in addition to classes, keeping up with their keyblade training, and community service, but Axel enjoyed using his fire for something constructive and Roxas saw the peace it brought him, so they made it work.  

“Yo, Axel! ‘M back!” Roxas calls, pushing his way inside with the ridge of his hip and scuffing his sneakers against the mat to remove the excess construction dirt. “I know I said I was gonna be, like, ten minutes tops, but, I mighta gotten distracted…”   

“In here, Roxas…” Axel answers from inside the shop, above the clang of metal on metal and hiss of sparks. “Come in here where I can see you.” 

Roxas passes through the back hallways, neatly lined with the stray supplies and freshly forged weapons and tools, in styles and cuts inspired by a variety of worlds, and enters the central workshop. Large windows allow breaths of fresh air and cast white light that’s hard to look at and doesn’t do as good a job at illuminating the large open space as the orange and yellow blazes of the large central fire burning at the heart of the forge beneath its stone chimney. 

Everything is cast in flickering shades of flame and shadow: the mounted anvil, racks of tools, barrels of water and sand, carts bearing hunks of metal needing repurposed and the neatly arranged shelves toward the entrance, mounting wares to be sold. Even Axel in his tight, light fabric britches, tunic, and heavy leather apron is cast in gold, white, and crimson as he works, stretching gleaming white molten metal between his bare fingertips with the ease of a sculptor shaping clay. 

“Well, hey, sexy.” Axel grins, head cocking to get a better view of Roxas, as carelessly attractive as ever, his hair windswept and his cheeks and ears slightly flushed from his skateboarding, or maybe just the rising temperature of the shop.

Roxas’ smile broadens in spite of himself. “Hey…” 

“That errand took seven hundred times longer than anticipated.” Axel shapes the hot metal between his fingers, and it looks sticky and elastic, like dough. He flicks his wrist, causing flames to engulf all of it once more, and begins to swirl it into an elaborate spiral before balling it up again.

“Sorry, Axel.” Roxas winces, chagrinned. “First, I had to wait for Leon to get out of a meeting, so I could give him the supplies and explain what was what. Then we delivered them, and then he wanted me to lend him a hand with a quick project, only it wasn’t actually a quick project, in reality. 

“Then I was on my way back here, swear to the gods, but I stopped into Aerith’s house for just a minute to say hello to Xion, and she wanted me to taste-test her cupcakes, and she was so excited, I couldn’t say no, and then, on my way out, I ran into Xemnas, and you know how much Xemnas likes to talk, and I just kinda lost track of time….” Roxas scuffs his foot sheepishly, the arm that’s not laden with bags stretching behind his head, ringed fingers rubbing at the back of his neck, a habit of Axel’s he’s picked up for himself. “Again.”

Axel chuckles, a sultry purr that Roxas only ever hears him use when there’s no one else around, deeper and less controlled than his usual mocking, lilting laugh. “It’s okay, Roxas, I don’t need the whole mission report. I wasn’t really expecting anything less after the last five times.” He turns toward the chimney so the piece he’s working on won’t drip molten steel to the floor, and flicks a hand carelessly over his shoulder, spraying sparks, as he teases, “I know you don’t know how to say no to people.” 

In actuality, Axel knows no force in the universe could make the powerful keyblade wielder do anything he didn’t want to do—not any more.  But, the guy is far too helpful for his own good. 

“Well,” one of Roxas’ brows rises, and his smile tilts, as he draws closer and deadpans, “I was raised by a cult.”

Axel snorts, catching Roxas’ eye before turning toward the anvil, shifting the shape of the steel in his hand into something more distinctly sword-shaped, as he steps and then setting it down, dismissing the fire engulfing his hands. “Is that why I’m doing all these orders for Leon?” Axel hefts a large hammer from the ground and props it against his shoulder, before turning to glance at Roxas again. “And here I thought I was just a good guy.”

 Axel brings the hammer down on the sword with a harsh clang that sends up sparks that remind Roxas of the fireflies the pair of them chased the time they tried camping on the edge of town. 

 “You are a good guy,” Roxas assures him firmly, stepping up to the other side of the anvil to watch Axel’s progress and to see his face, glowing golden bronze in the light. A black smudge of ash on one of his cheeks reminds Roxas of the tattoos he used to wear. Roxas feels an unexpected pang, something to the left of nostalgia. 

Axel brings the hammer down hard again with a grunt and then wastes a couple precious seconds to grin back. “I love it when you lie to me.”

“Axel…” Roxas’ tone grows exasperated, his smile thinner, more wry. He hopes Axel doesn’t mean that, but admires his blatant refusal to stay in line with whatever overstepping behaviors the powers that be demand of him in the name of what’s “right.”

 “Roxas…”  Axel mimics his tone, and then huffs and keeps swinging. It’s a conversation they’ve had a hundred times before in one form of another. 

Another few blows pass in silence broken only by the song of metal and hiss of smoke and embers, and then Axel lifts the sword-to-be by the hilt, reshaping the metal with the heat of his palm as he does, smoothing out the jutting upper ridges of the hand guards under his thumb while inspecting his handiwork. 

 Roxas follows his movements in quiet admiration. Axel’s swift motions have a practiced ease and fluidity not unlike the way he fights, slicing through Heartless with his chakram… 

Axel frowns a bit at a flaw Roxas’ eyes can’t detect, and jerking his head to indicate Roxas step back, dunks the sword into a barrel of cold water and then raises it, steaming and silver, into the air with a single sizzling swipe. 

Roxas hums in admiration as Axel sets the weapon down to cool atop the anvil with a mild sigh, the steam around his hands evaporating quickly to reveal his face, tired but unflushed. “I’ll fix it later. Think it’s time for a breather.” 

Roxas nods, and Axel sets his tools to rights and steps up to join him. Without discussion, they seat themselves on a wrought iron bench below one of the wide, open bell-shaped windows at the front of the shop. From there they can feel the breeze breathe against their flushed faces and listen to the birds calling out to each other in the park a few blocks down. 

Once they’ve settled themselves, their thighs pressed against each other, ankles linking, Roxas licks his thumb and reaches out to rub at the smudge of ash on Axel’s cheek. “You are doing a good job,” Roxas reiterates. “You know that, right? Like, fucking…” his words fade off, vulnerable and fragile in their quietness, “incredible.”

“Roxas…” Axel catches Roxas’ hand in his and closes his eyes above the gentle brush of Roxas’ calloused thumb. With his hand wrapped in Axel’s, Roxas can feel the racing of Axel’s pulse and the sticky heat and ash coating his skin. Axel inhales deeply, trying to relax and smiles, lazy, superficial. “Roxas, Roxas, Roxas… You’re the good guy. I’m just along for the ride.” 

Axel lowers their hands into his lap, though Roxas hasn’t quite fixed the smudge on his cheek so much as streaked it into the teardrop shape it had reminded him of in the first place. Axel wraps both of his hands around Roxas’ and pats it in a way that feels both condescending and sweet. 

Roxas laughs, a short skeptical bark. “You’re the one always bragging about being made a Guardian of Light.” 

Axel exhales through his nose, somewhere between amused and frustrated. Roxas feels his pulse start to simmer down.

“Yeah, well, you weren’t there.” Axel half smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, though they seem to glow, Heartless-like, in the dark space. He jabs Roxas in the arm with his elbow to lighten the gravity of the accusation. “The standards were fairly low.” 

Roxas huffs and is about to elbow him back, when Axel leans in and rests his cheek in Roxas’ hair, a gesture which makes Roxas’ insides so gooey he can’t think of a response right away, except to curl his hand tighter into Axel’s.  

“I was selfish. I just wanted to get you back,” Axel continues. “You, and Isa, and the others… That’s all I thought of while I was training. You, especially. I mean, they’d told me you were as good as…”

The feel of Axel’s entire body shivering makes Roxas’ spine go rigid, especially in the pervasive heat of the smoky room with its still merrily burning hearth.  

“But I didn’t, couldn’t, believe them,” his voice cracks, fingers tracing the bones of Roxas’. “Not for a second. I mean,” his voice starts to get shallow, so he pushes for playful and misses the mark, “what kind of gods would bring back me and not you, right?” His laughter reminds Roxas of glass breaking.

“Hey,” Roxas’ words take on an edge, flat and blunt, “don’t. Don’t do that. We saved the fucking worlds, you and me,” he reminds him. He’s had to remind himself on more than one occasion since, when the other Keyblade wielders had lost patience with him, and when he had lost patience with himself.   

Axel shakes his head slightly, further mussing Roxas’ soft hair, still warm from the noon rays of the Radiant Garden suns. “Honestly, after I saved you, the rest of the worlds didn’t matter so much.”

Roxas wishes he could meet Axel’s eyes, but doesn’t want to jolt him and interrupt the soft, warm, exhales ruffling his hair. “But you did it anyway,” Roxas insists, raising their folded hands until he can press his lips against Axel’s knuckles. 

“Well, yeah,” Axel scoffs at himself, his bravado and hypocrisy and desperation, “but…” He trails off, distracted as Roxas’ lips dampen his skin, and then Roxas lowers their hands again, as if Roxas has finally started to forget such a casually intimate gesture could have gotten them killed once upon a time.  

“Why?” Roxas coaxes.

Axel scoffs again, thinking of everything that had been riding on those moments in the Keyblade Graveyard. He remembers the blinding white glow of Kingdom Hearts overhead burning his eyes even when he shut them—the electric pull of its gravity, threatening to encompass every place he had ever known and every place he and Roxas could have, like the Darkness that had swallowed his childhood home whole, alive, and squirming. 

“Whaddya mean, why?” Axel sputters, voice growing louder with indignance. “There wasn’t a why.” He laughs at the absurdity of it, shaking his head again, sounding more than a little manic. “I only did it ‘cause I was there and it was the right thing, the only thing to… Oh.” 

Axel lifts his head from Roxas’ hair, and Roxas twists his neck to meet widened green eyes. 

“Oh,” Axel repeats more softly, as Roxas’ lips curl into a satisfied grin. 

“The right thing to do. Huh.” Axel reaches up to rub the back of his neck. “Faked it ‘til I made it, I guess.”   

Roxas rolls his eyes, but his tight-lipped grin splits open into a real smile. “Idiot.” He reaches up to cup Axel’s cheek in his palm. “I am so fucking hopelessly in love with you.”

“Yeah,” Axel mumbles and bites his lip, eyes darting to the side in embarrassment, and then back to Roxas’ because he can’t help himself. “I know. Sucks to be you.” 

The pair lean in for a kiss, but Roxas falters and pulls back, arm caught on the three bags weighing it down. 

“Oh!” His eyes widen, glancing down and then back up. “I forgot. I brought you something to apologize for being gone so long.” 

Axel’s eyes narrow, lips pursing skeptically, his fingertips tracing Roxas’ jaw. “Is it a kiss?”

Roxas shrugs the handles of a paper bag from his forearm and lifts the still warm parcel onto his lap. “Ta-da.”

“Ah, Roxas.” Axel’s nose crinkles, as he leans back, and his free hand reaches to unfold the paper bag. “You didn’t need to go to any trouble...”

“It’s freshly baked, flaky, crescent-wrapped jalapeño poppers from Lar—Elrena’s tavern.” 

Axel peers into the bag to see the savory pastries and inhales a whiff of the buttery, spicy morsels, which sets his mouth watering. 

“You brought me pub food? See? I knew you cared,” Axel teases, his thumb stretching to the edge of Roxas’ thin smile, and giving it a tug up that makes Roxas cackle and glare, his golden brows dipping down below the bangs he gets when his hair starts to fall flat. Axel’s hand curls around the bag, folding it closed again with a crinkling sound. “Apology accepted. But I also want...” His free hand rises to catch the neck of Roxas’ tee and draw him closer, until his nose near brushes Roxas’ again. 

Roxas hums, their lips a breath apart. He can’t hold up the glare, smiles again, a softer thing, his heart beating a slow anthem against Axel’s palm on his chest. “Guess I can do that.” He tilts his head. His pale, unwavering blue eyes burn when they’re so close, like matchsticks held to Axel’s bare skin, but he doesn’t mind. “Forgive me?” Roxas asks on a breath.

“Nothing to forgive,” Axel dismisses, and then their lips slip together. All tension and fear and stress and insecurity evaporates as their hearts beat against each other. Roxas tastes like frosting and smells like spring, wind and petals, and when Axel’s tongue wraps his, it burns like salt and smoke. Axel lifts Roxas into his lap, their mouths moving together and their hands snagging at fabric, tugging each other closer, harder, holding tight, muscle sliding against muscle. Their desperation makes it as impossibly clear as ever that they haven’t forgotten for a moment what separation tastes like, the way it rent hollow, echoing chambers in their chests. But pressed together, kissing, they feel like they are home.

[thesunnyshow]

Name: Juliet

Writing Blog URL(s): @wonderlustlucas

Nationality: American

Languages: English, beginner level French, teeny tiny bit of Korean

Star Sign: Virgo

MBTI: ISFJ-T

Favorite color: Pastel yellow

Favorite food: My mom’s Sunday gravy

Favorite movie: Howl’s Moving Castle (The Lion King is a close second though)

Favorite ice cream flavor: Specifically Turkey Hill’s Double Dunker (get it— it’s so good)

Favorite animal: Humpback whale

Go-to karaoke song: She’s Kinda Hot by 5 Seconds of Summer

Dream job (whether you have a job or not): Neurosurgeon! Or a Twitch streamer HAHA

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering?  Ahhh probably coffee, I love tea but I need my coffee </3

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? Shapeshifting! Clearly the superior superpower I don’t take constructive criticism.

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? This is weirdly specific, but I would love to be in Scotland during the 1700’s. Alternatively, the 1980’s.

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you? 100%. I know everything happens for a reason but getting a redo and being able to fix all the big mistakes I made would be pretty nice.

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? One horse-sized chicken! 100 tiny horses would be crazy tiring.

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? I would probably be the gay side character that gives good emotional advice but is hella lonely LMAO

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? Yes, both!

What are some small things that make your day better? Driving with the windows down and music blasting, picking up coffee, playing video games, & talking to my internet friends on Discord.

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know? I discovered my love for writing through Warrior Cats roleplay😭

What fandom(s) do you write for? Right now, only Kpop, but I wouldn’t mind writing for 5SOS or some of my other fandoms!

When did you post your first piece? On WattPad, December 2015. On Tumblr, April 2018 :)

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? I write everything! Fluff/smut/crack is my favorite and slight angst (usually just slow burn though cus I’m soft).

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc? Again, I write anything and everything! Currently, second or third person reader inserts are my main style, but I also do ships and would love to write more OCs.

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr? Before Tumblr, I was on WattPad for different fandoms but eventually fell off. Then, when I got into Kpop in 2017, I found that urge to write again and decided to move to Tumblr since WattPad was becoming… weird. Plus Tumblr was a better fit for me!

What inspires you to write? To be completely honest, it’s the little things throughout the day that inspire me. For example, “Honey” was inspired by me not being able to open my locker in high school. “I Hemoglobin You” was based off my friend giving me a head rub while I was donating blood. Kpop idols just so happen to be my muses that I like to put into random moments of inspiration!

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? High school or college AUs are my favorite, along with some good ol’ friends to lovers slow burn. Angst isn’t my forte so I usually just stick to fluff, smut, and some crack. I haven’t written any but fantasy AUs are some of my favorites too! (RIP to my League of Legends AU that I started and haven’t touched in months.)

What do you hope your readers take away from your work? Just like other fanfiction authors inspire me, I hope some of my work inspires others. Considering fanfiction is free, there is so much out there to read and when I find a good story that inspires ME to write better, I’d love for my writing to do the same.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? 3 options: 1) Skip that scene and jump ahead to one I’m excited to write; 2) Erase what part I’m on and completely redo it; or 3) Drop it. The majority of my works usually take a few months to write as I will completely stop working on it until I find the right inspiration again. 

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? “Four” is definitely my favorite work. It’s one of my longer pieces and there was a lot of raw emotion in there on my end. I love the relationship between Hyunjin and the reader and especially love the ending. “Greatest Gift” for Chanyeol is my most successful, and one of my other favorites!

Who is your favorite person to write about? Easily Hwang Hyunjin. It’s so easy to place him in any of my works, and sometimes it’s a struggle to NOT write him. It sounds stupid but sometimes I really feel like I “know” him so being able to describe him physically and mentally is easy for me.

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? Yes and no. Yes, because most of the time, fanfiction is totally original as well and requires just as much thought as a 400,000 word novel. No, because fanfiction uses a specific person as a muse.

What do you think makes a good story? Detail and realistic dialogue! Of course, everyone has their own style of writing, but detail is especially important to me. Sure, you can have a great plot, but having concise, detailed writing to get immersed into makes a story so much better. I also find realistic dialogue to be a big deal— I hate when teenage characters are speaking in deep analogies because, if we’re being honest, my daily language is 95% just “Bruh.” If you’re like me, I’d actually prefer realistic dialogue over anything else.

What is your writing process like? Process… yikes. Sometimes… I have a random thought and then I’m like… hell yeah let’s write that. I actually have no process. I don’t outline, I just start writing and keep writing until I’m finished. Then I’ll read it all over to make edits, then I’ll use the Read Aloud feature to catch any mistakes I missed, then I’ll run it through Grammarly before posting!

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? Hm, maybe? In the future, possibly, but as of right now I wouldn’t use any of my fics to do so.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? Oh, gosh, tropes. Gotta love them. Friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, stuck together (AKA forced to share a bed), and fake relationships are my favorites. They may be corny, but I also love truth or dare or 7 minutes in heaven games in fics cus… they’re just classics. Also love fics with a popular x shy pairing. I can’t say I dislike many tropes, but I definitely have a love/hate relationship with vampire and werewolf tropes because of how romanticized they are.

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? Hm, to be completely honest, only a little bit? I mainly write for myself, it’s like a guilty pleasure to just get all my thoughts and desires out, and then I just so happen to make it public on Tumblr. Nevertheless, receiving comments and asks actually make my day, and sometimes I still struggle to wrap my mind around people enjoying my writing! So, thank you to everyone who has ever left me a kind message, I truly appreciate it ♥

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)? Getting involved! I think one of the best ways to grow is to join networks, which not only gives you the opportunity to share your work on a greater scale, but also allows you to make connections. Like real life, making connections and making friendships with other writers can play a huge role in growing as a writer and growing your account.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? Yes :( As someone who’s involved with other fandoms, I’ve heard the way some people think of fanfiction and it’s really sad. People do not know how much goes into writing and just see it as cringey and disgusting when it’s just… not.

Do you think art can be a medium for change? Yes! In all its forms, art is something a creator can use to influence their audience (in a good way, hopefully).

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? Like I said in #40, I mainly write for myself. Even when I’m writing a request, chances are if I like the request enough I’m going to create a story out of it that fits my personal desires the most.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times?  No! However, I’d still consider myself a small account and do not have TOO many works posted. But so far, I don’t think I’ve faced this problem :)

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? Only a few! My best friend Maggie is on Tumblr with me and only 2 of my other pals know I write fanfiction.

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? How much I love each and every one of them for supporting me and sticking around even when I won’t post for months🥺❤️

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? Don’t psych yourself out! In the time I’ve spent on Tumblr, I’ve never received any substantial hate. My main advice is don’t write fanfiction to get popular on the app, write fanfiction because you love to write and love your muses!

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? No, as much as Tumblr can be annoying at times, I love the people I’ve met and the content I’ve found and wouldn’t have wanted to use any other platform.

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? @pinktea99 — Mo, you’ve been around since the beginning honestly, and without you I wouldn’t have been able to come out of my shell! Thank you for all your love & support & for being my SF9 buddy❤️

Pick a quote to end your interview with: 

“Like mate, stop procrastinating.” — 3RACHA

BONUS ROUND: K-POP CONFIDENTIAL 

[reynesofcastamere]

Thrown Gauntlet[Ω]

(A/N: Sooooo....I’ve decided to start another series of fics that I will be marking with [Ω] in the titles: To disinguish them from both the main series (which I am still working on) and the [β] drabbles (which are all over the place in terms of timeline, setting, universe, etc.). Essentially a very self-indulgent AU where Savage, Maul, and Feral all get adopted by Clan Wren. This installment takes place in 20 BBY, so Ahsoka is around 16 and Maul is about 34. However. I want to state outright that the dynamic is intended to be a verrrrry slow build and that nothing romantic and/or sexual will be occurring between Maul and Ahsoka until MUCH later. If what I’ve described does not sound like your personal cup of tea, then by all means, feel free to give this fic and/or series a pass. This is getting a bit long, so to sum up: No trigger warnings, Obi-Wan is an Incurable Flirt, Rex is Flustered, and Maul is about 100% Done With Everyone’s Nonsense. Unbeta’d)  The Jedi Temple is buzzing. Not literally, of course, but Ahsoka can feel a strange vibration in the Force. Excitement, or maybe irritation? There’s definitely quite a bit more whispering amongst her fellow Jedi and the clone troopers she passes on her path to the east hangar. Master Anakin had told her to pack for a long trip, which she can only assume means they’ve been assigned another mission and he’s withholding the details so as to ‘surprise’ her appropriately. Typical Skyguy.

She spots Rex near the door, sans helmet. “Good morning, Captain.” A proper salute, quickly returned, though her tone is light. “Morning, Commander. And-er, yes, it certainly is.” He actually seems to be fidgeting a bit, and his face- “Rex, are you...blushing?” “N-no. No. Just-ah...Finished up my workout routine. Took more out of me than I expected. You know how it is; One day you’re all shiny-new and the next you feel older than General Yoda.” “Reeeeexxxx....Come on, whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

“The Clawbirds arrived about an hour ago. Captain Wren’s refusing to do much of anything until he finishes repairs on General Skywalker’s ship.” Rex caves, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Master Anakin can’t be too happy about that.” Ahsoka observes, knowing just how...particular he is about his personal projects. “Should I be worried?” “Er...maybe? It’s kind of a toss-up. Depends on whether M-” He begins, before a subtler voice cuts in. “Captain, there you are. I was hoping to speak to you.” The speaker is a male Zabrak with soft golden-yellow eyes and skin, the latter of which is liberally patterned in brown markings. Unusual enough, but he’s also clad in full Mandalorian armor, helmet tucked under one arm and carrying what looks like field medic gear along with the standard jetpack and arsenal of weapons. And he’s glowing; a defined Force signature radiating Light and positive energy like a solar lamp. How-? “Medic Sergeant Wren. They are still getting along, right?” “Oh yes. He’s in a much better mood than last time. Apologies, am I interrupting?” “Thank the Maker. And no, um. Commander Tano, this is Medic Sergeant Feral Wren.” Rex looks like he’s in danger of heatstroke with how red he’s gotten. It’s not hard to see why, especially when Feral gives a smile that could melt half the ice on Bahryn. Rather than salute her, he stretches his right hand out so that they can clasp forearms briefly, a greeting from one warrior to another. “It’s a pleasure, Medic Sergeant.” She smiles back. Ahsoka can’t help it. He’s just...She’s fighting the urge to hug him like some kind of stuffed animal toy. Which is bizarre and will most definitely not be happening anytime soon. “Tano...Oh, you must be ‘Snips’. It’s almost a shame Savage volunteered to help the younglings train, we’ve both wanted to meet you for some time now.” Wait, what? “Tranyc’vod [Sunny(star-burned) brother] Anakin hasn’t been able to call as often, but he’s very proud of your accomplishments.” Feral remarks, genuinely pleased even as her head spins with the implications. Her Master has a lot of explaining to do. “Speaking of which, I’d better not keep him waiting much longer. I look forward to talking to you again, though. See you later, Captain. Maybe you should ask the Medic Sergeant about those stamina issues you’re having?” She can’t resist ribbing Rex as she departs, watching him splutter as Feral, like any good medic, starts making inquiries about his ‘condition’ while looking him over. And placing a hand on his chestplate, apparently. Huh. Maybe her friend’s obvious crush isn’t quite as one-sided as she’d thought. Ahsoka navigates her way through the semi-organized rows of ships. Even if Anakin’s presence in the Force wasn’t abnormally strong, she doesn’t need to focus to find him. Not when he’s talking loud enough to be heard across half the hangar. “-last time, it’s fine! You’re just being paranoid, as usual.” “Every ship I have been forced to borrow from you has either crashed, suffered a critical malfunction, or was confined to the scrap heap mere hours after landing. No one is setting a foot on this poorly-constructed death trap until I am absolutely certain it won’t spontaneously combust mid-flight.” And that must be Captain Wren. He sounds...irritated, to say the least.

“My ships run perfectly, thanks. Must hurt that Mando pride, knowing a Jedi is a better pilot and mechanic than you, Captain.” She’s not quite within visual range yet, but she knows her Master is smirking. “How sad that as a Jedi, you cannot recognize your own failings, General. Perhaps you should conduct a survey of your ‘victims’ instead of this poor attempt at distraction. Mir’osik adiik be’kyorla hut’uun![Dung for brains child of (a) rotten coward!]-” “Ouch. What, did one of your horns get caught in the hydraulics?” “Hilarious. Make yourself useful by grabbing a towel, or something from Kenobi’s closet. I’m coming out.” “Ah, Captain Wren. I thought the general ambience had improved. What were you saying about my clothing?” She hadn’t been aware of Master Kenobi’s presence before this. Either he’d used a secondary entrance or had been waiting for his chance to join the exchange while the captain was busy. “Kenobi.”

“Oh come now, surely you can muster a more polite greeting than that. You’ve been away so long I’ve had to listen to recordings just to remember the sound of your lovely voice.” “Perhaps I will address you with respect when you learn to stop leering at me, besom [ill-mannered lout].” “Busted. Again.” “You’re not helping, Anakin.” Ahsoka rounds a corner and-Oh. Wow. How far down do those-? She blinks a few times, just to be sure of what she’s seeing. Yep, there is a very shirtless Zabrak with the kind of muscle definition that would make scores of artists weep standing with his back to her and wiping his face off with a towel. She desperately hopes that her jaw is not hanging open as he turns his head to survey her with one vibrant yellow tourmaline eye. She honestly doesn’t know if she wants to draw closer or back away in that moment. His presence in the Force is not a benevolent, harmless light, but rather a controlled fire that sparks and issues dark threads of smoke. This...Ahsoka doesn’t understand what is going on, and it’s starting to make her uncomfortable. “The spy finally shows herself.” He remarks, assessing and dismissing her as a non-threat within the span of a few seconds, continuing to wipe off whatever type of mess had been spattered on him. “Don’t mind him, Snips. Someone shoved a shock baton up his ass years ago and the medics never found a way to pull it out. Tragic, really.” Anakin Skywalker grins, arms loosely folded across his chest and leaning against the outside of his ship. “Ahsoka, this is Maul. We’ll be working with him and his people for the forseeable future.” It clicks suddenly where she’s heard both his name and that of his group before: Captain Maul of Clan Wren and his company are the only Mandalorian supercommandos who will actually work with the Jedi Council. At least, when they’re not busy with bodyguard or mercenary jobs. Part of that involves what is referred to -with some awe and a lot of fear- as ‘running the gauntlet’, a mandatory training course for any Padawans or Knights posted to or intending to spend a considerable amount of time in the barely-civilized regions of space. It’s been suspended since the war started in earnest, but if they’re going to be sticking around for a while...Well, the implications are pretty serious. And Ahsoka has somehow managed to ogle one of the most infamous hardasses this side of the Mid Rim. Fantastic. Really. Maul disposes of the stained towel and turns to face her properly, Ahsoka’s gaze staying determinedly on his face as they grip each other’s right forearms. He doesn’t pull back after a few seconds as Feral had, hand locking in place as he seems to peer into her soul.  “I will say this once. We are not like our evaar’la vod’e[young brothers]. We are not subservient to you, and I do not accept excuses or blatant disrespect.” A pause and a slight increase in pressure, just below the threshold of inflicting pain. “Are you ready, Ahsoka Tano?” “Yes, Captain.” She answers with a certainty that she can feel in her very bones, and is rewarded with the hint of a wry smile when he lets go. Well that’s...something. Master Kenobi clears his throat pointedly. Right. Mission briefing first. Sort out her feelings later. Still, she can’t help but look forward to whatever comes next. (A/N: *cracks knuckles* Well, that’s the first installment. A little vague on the details, but I’m hoping to elaborate on what’s been hinted at here relatively soon. The name of the supercommando company comes from the Legends novel Maul:Lockdown by Joe Schreiber. And yes, for fellow Rebels fans who are reading this thing: In this AU, Sabine and Tristan get three badass Zabrak-hybrid uncles and a fair amount of adopted cousins. (Which is entirely Savage’s doing.) I do believe that Anakin is a gifted mechanic, but also couldn’t resist the running joke of ‘Skywalker’s ships/anything he tinkers with only work for him and Artoo’. Cheers!) 

[brokenjardaantech]

captain allen appreciation week 2020 day 4: western au

notes: 

@yeemotional is space western accepted?

final product: a mass effect: andromeda au featuring allen as a kett hunter on eos, ambiguous hankcon relationship, and *squints* the beginning of some beautiful allen60. also fiend and eiroch hunting because i hate those animals.

----

Plunging his omni-blade into the neck of the last kett on site, Allen takes a moment to take a breath, discovers that sand has gone into cracks he didn’t even know existed, and decides officially that he is done with the giant wasteland that is known as Eos. Those separatists - Aurora something? - apparently thinks hiding in a bunch of caves gives them the best chance of survival, the two Sites the Initiative managed to set up were busts, and when the sky finally managed to clear, the kett took advantage and has already planted dozens of wind farms giving off ugly, bluish-green gas. He is, in fact, standing underneath one of these structures. And yes, he may be one of the scary exiles who jumped ship after the uprising, but the Initiative is stretched so thin that they didn’t even bother to change their main communication frequency; all Allen needs to do right now is to ping the newest outpost which - at fucking last - was established by a legit Pathfinder, and, most importantly, is military-focused, which means someone will help pick up his mess and maybe put the turbine-things into good use, preferably without dying. Hopping into his shuttle, he sets off towards Prodromos. He may not be officially employed as outpost personnel, but Bradley knows who he is. He can use a sonic shower and company too practical to give a fuck about why he’s cut ties with the Nexus.

His plan is interrupted, however, when he notices the telltale flash of biotic explosions, and magnifying the image reveals three people fighting what seems to be a mixture of Fiends and Eirochs, two white, two blue, one red. He has fought a blue one on Kadara and a few bony ones on Eos, but if the rumors are to be believed, these red ones are the worst. Not wanting those people to die a terrible death, he sets his shuttle to hover, preps the Isharay he got from Kadara that has proved to be better than any Milky Way sniper rifles, opens the door, and points it at the fleshy bit on one of the red Eirochs. He’s got five power cells, just enough to land one Concussive Shot for each of the beasts. He’ll rejoin the Nexus if the shots don't tear their innards to shreds.

Pew. Red staggers, half its back a fleshy, bleeding mess, and it manages to take two small steps forward before dissolving into nothing. Ejecting the spent thermal clip, he preps another Concussive shot and points it at a Fiend. Another shot piercing red, gill-like flesh, and the Fiend would have exploded had it not been lined with shock-absorbing cartilage. So far, so good.

The person dressed in N7 armor suddenly lights up in blue and launches what must be the largest biotic sphere Allen has ever seen towards the other Fiend. It gets knocked far, far away and hits the pillar of a kett construct, and it dissolves before its body reaches the ground. Pants suddenly too tight, Allen snaps his gaze away from where the Fiend used to be and discovers that the remaining two normal Eirochs are already dealt with, their fluid sacs and a few spent thermal clips the only clue that they were ever there.

‘Hey!’ The biotic in N7 armor shouts. ‘Thank you!’ Oh fuck, they’re taking off their helmet, and oh shit, isn’t that the fucking Pathfinder? ‘You know, our team can use someone like you!’

‘I’m an exile, Pathfinder!’ he shouts back. He uses his omni-tool to bring his shuttle closer to the ground so that they don’t have to yell as yelling means eating radioactive sand. ‘Not sure if Tann welcomes me anymore.’

‘Well, resource levels are still critical,’ a large, stocky middle-aged man also in N7 armor says, ‘so Pathfinder Ryder here gets to pick and choose his people.’

‘This is Hank, my second. Please ignore him. How may we call you?’

The tone Ryder uses suggests that he doesn’t mean it at all. ‘Allen. Lou Allen.’

‘Lou. I like that name.’

They all turn towards the direction of the voice, and a man who looks strikingly like Ryder but in a totally different set of armor approaches them slowly as if something is weighing him down. 

‘This is Clement, my twin brother,’ Ryder introduces, ‘our tech expert.’

Clement hooks his chin over his brother’s armored shoulder, completely unbothered by the sand. ‘I - Why do you want me on your team?’

‘We don’t have a sniper yet,’ Hank says as he watches the Pathfinder try to untangle himself from his twin. ‘What you did on that shuttle… That’s impressive. Besides, you can save the world. Us idiots bought the sales pitch, now we better fucking earn it.’

‘Doesn’t sound nice,’ Allen mutters under his breath.

It earns a laugh from the N7. ‘The cluster’s a fucked up place, Allen,’ he keeps his eyes on the twins, who now seem to be engaged in a biotic play-fight. Or more like Connor is setting off those explosions to distract his brother. ‘If we don’t do something now, we’ll be fucked sooner or later. You’re the one who’s been cleaning out the kett, right?’ Allen nods reluctantly. ‘You have a piece of saving the world in you. Don’t spend it all on this rock. And who knows?’ Ryder has his brother pinned gently on the sand, the latter’s face split into half in a silent guffaw. ‘Maybe we can make the world a better place.’

Fucking N7s and their fucking inspiring speeches. ‘Shouldn’t the Pathfinder be the one doing this?’

‘I told Con to recruit you. Guess I’m too optimistic to trust his brother to stay on task.’

‘Why aren’t you the Pathfinder, then?’

‘I’m six hundred and eighty-seven, Allen.’ Hank gives himself a stretch for a good measure. ‘I’m old as fuck.’

Allen does the math. ‘Bullshit. You’re only ten years older than me. You’re only through one-third of your life.’

‘Busted.’ And after shouting ‘Connor, get the fuck back to the Nomad!’, ‘Trust me, it’s a long story. You won’t want to hear that under this sun.’ When the twins look like they’re moving towards their vehicle, ‘See you in Prodromos? We won’t be leaving until the day after.’

‘See ya, then, Hank.’

‘See ya, Allen.’ A sigh. ‘Time to herd those two back to the Tempest.’

Allen climbs back into the cockpit of his shuttle. As he cuts through rough terrain to evade kett orbital scans, he realizes that his life is about to become very interesting.

[sworntoprotect]

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all had witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat. Long post!

MUN NAME: Pie     AGE: +25       CONTACT: IM, Ask, Discord (mutuals only, by request)

CHARACTER(S): Cullen

CURRENT FANDOM(S): Dragon Age

FANDOM(S) YOU HAVE AN AU FOR:  I have a modern verse for everything not Dragon Age, but I might add some actual alt verses for other fandoms

MY LANGUAGE(S): English (native), Spanish (intermediate), Korean (baby lol beginner), bits and bobs of other languages (namely French and French Patois)

THEMES I’M INTERESTED IN FOR RP: FANTASY / SCIENCE FICTION / HORROR / WESTERN / ROMANCE / THRILLER / MYSTERY / DYSTOPIA / ADVENTURE / MODERN / EROTIC / CRIME / MYTHOLOGY / CLASSIC / HISTORY / RENAISSANCE / MEDIEVAL / ANCIENT / WAR / FAMILY / POLITICS / RELIGION / SCHOOL / ADULTHOOD / CHILDHOOD / APOCALYPTIC / GODS / SPORT / MUSIC / SCIENCE / FIGHTS / ANGST / SMUT / DRAMA / ETC. (I started this and realised I’d be bolding almost everything, so: EVERYTHING)

PREFERRED THREAD LENGTH: ONE-LINER / 1 PARA / 2 PARA / 3+ PARA / NOVELLA. / ALL

ASKS CAN BE SEND BY: MUTUALS / NON-MUTUALS / PERSONALS / ANONS.

CAN ASKS BE CONTINUED?: YES / NO / OCCASIONALLY   - only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO

PREFERRED THREAD TYPE: CRACK / CASUAL / SERIOUS / DEEP AS HECK. / ALL

IS REALISM / RESEARCH IMPORTANT FOR YOU IN CERTAIN THEMES?:   YES / NO.

ARE YOU ATM OPEN FOR NEW PLOTS?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. (after my paper is submitted, yeah sure)

DO YOU HANDLE YOUR DRAFT / ASK - COUNT WELL?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. (irl makes coping difficult sometimes)

HOW LONG DO YOU USUALLY TAKE TO REPLY?: 24H / 1 WEEK / 2 WEEKS / 3+ WEEKS / MONTHS / YEARS. / DEPENDS ON MOOD AND INSPIRATION, AND IF I’M BUSY 

I’M OKAY INTERACTING WITH: ORIGINAL CHARACTERS / A RELATIVE OF MY CHARACTER (AN OC) / DUPLICATES / CROSSOVERS / MULTI-MUSES / SELF-INSERTS / PEOPLE WITH NO AU VERSE FOR MY FANDOM / CANON-DIVERGENT PORTRAYALS / AU-VERSIONS.

DO YOU POST MORE IC OR OOC?: IC / OOC. (I strive for more IC over OOC, but my queue does a lot of work too)

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WITH FOLLOWING OTHERS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.  

BEST WAYS TO APPROACH YOU FOR RP/PLOTTING:  Talk with me over IM, asks, or Disco. I’m down for almost anything as long as I see it’s feasible.

WHAT EXPECTATIONS DO YOU HOLD TOWARDS YOUR PLOTTING PARTNER:  Transparency. If you have an idea, let me know! If you’re stuck, let me know! If you want to start something new or scrap something or whatever...LET ME KNOW! I promise I don’t bite and I understand.

WHEN YOU NOTICE THE PLOTTING IS RATHER ONE-SIDED, WHAT DO YOU DO?:  I’m not very good with coming up with plots myself, so I’m typically the weak link when it comes to that. Sorry! But you bet I’ll pull up a plot generator and start throwing things down to see what sticks haha.

HOW DO YOU USUALLY PLOT WITH OTHERS, DO YOU GIVE INPUT OR LEAVE MOST WORK TOWARDS YOUR PARTNER?:  I’m all about equal opportunity, so I try not to leave the plotting work to my partner. Let’s negotiate and find something that makes both of us happy. That’s the point after all.

WHEN A PARTNER DROPS THE THREAD, DO YOU WISH TO KNOW?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - AND WHY?: If you want to drop a thread, I’m completely fine with it. I want to know so that I don’t end up replying to something you have no interest in anymore. Saves both of us the time.

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY LEAD YOU TO DROP A THREAD?:  If drafts eat it (as they are wont to do these days) or if I feel it has reached a natural conclusion. I rarely, if ever, drop a thread in the middle. I’ll just let you know I’m going to finish it on my side and allow you a chance to finish on yours if you’d like.

WILL YOU TELL YOUR PARTNER?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS.

IS COMMUNICATION IN THE RPC IMPORTANT TO YOU? YES / NO. - AND WHY?: You don’t need to chat with me every minute of every day, but I like knowing the people I’m writing with. Discerning your personality and your approach to your muse gives me a much stronger understanding of how to write with you, and what vibes between us. Plus, it’s easier to remember different people’s boundaries if I talk with them a lot, too.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH ABSOLUTE HONESTY, EVEN IF IT MAY MEANS HEARING SOMETHING NEGATIVE ABOUT YOU AND/OR PORTRAYAL?: I am all for constructive criticism. Even if you think it’s nitpicky, it’s going to be a great help. Good crit allows us grow as writers and as people in general. However, I am not for baseless accusations, childish name-calling, or outright insults under the name of “constructive crit”. Remember the “constructive” part: we need to build each other up. 

DO YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE SUCH SITUATION IN A MATURE WAY? YES / NO.

WHY DO YOU RP AGAIN, IS THERE A GOAL?: I love a good story. While I don’t agree with everything Cullen does (and no one should, for anyone real or imagined), his story is intriguing. He’s a deeply flawed, deeply broken man. I love to take on a character, toss them in every situation I can think of, and watch them evolve and grow.

WISHLIST, BE IT PLOTS OR SCENARIOS:  A real redemption arc, for one. A realistic struggle with substance abuse and recovery. A future of happiness.

THEMES I WON’T EVER RP / EXPLORE:   Rape or sexual assault, unless being spoken about as a past event (as I truly believe that Cullen was sexually assaulted at Kinloch along with the other psychological and physical torture he endured). In-game racism is baked in, unfortunately, but it’s not something I seek out to roleplay as a PoC myself. Finally, while I play Cullen as canon-straight, I will not play out homophobia and most definitely not transphobia. If he rejects your muse for hitting on him, it’s not because he’s being homophobic: he’s just not interested. That also doesn’t mean he’ll never be interested; people can and do change, and I ship chemistry overall. He doesn’t hate your muse for their gender, orientation, or sexual preferences. I feel like I really have to spell this out for people who don’t understand. If you feel personally insulted by this somehow, feel free to address me directly, off anon. It’s probably an issue of fuzzy wording that I’m 500% willing to fix and talk about.

WHAT TYPE OF STARTERS DO YOU PREFER / DISLIKE, CAN’T WORK WITH?: I love starters that set the scene and provide plenty to work with, be it in terms of interacting with the environment or with the other person. If your muse shows immediate disinterest in communicating (and I don’t mean argumentative, which is perfectly fine), I am not going to respond. I might politely ask for more if I feel like it’s a salvageable interaction.

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE MOST?:  Stoic soldier types, bubbly short girls, and semi-mad scientists.

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE LEAST?:  Characters that come across as Mary-Sue / Gary-Stu types. No flaws and barely any room to grow. 

WHAT ARE YOUR STRONG ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: I'm very easy-going and I have an unearthly level of tolerance for almost everything. I try to provide partners with as much to work with as possible IC, and will pretty much support your very existence OOC. I believe in open communication so you’ll know what’s going on with me and/or our threads. Also, I typically reply within a week or two. Currently I’m tethered to finishing a big paper so I’m not a good example of that right now.

WHAT ARE YOUR WEAK ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: I can get overwhelmed by too much which slows my pace down considerably. I’m also a bit distant and do shut down on occasion; that’s usually no fault of my partners, though. Just my brain being a dick.

DO YOU RP SMUT?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. (the closer we are OOC, the easier getting here will be)

DO YOU PREFER TO GO INTO DETAIL?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. (it’s not going to be XXX but it will be descriptive)

ARE YOU OKAY WITH BLACK CURTAIN, FADE TO BLACK?: YES / NO.

WHEN DO YOU RP SMUT? MORE OUT OF FUN OR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?: I prefer to write smut for character development and to mark a progression in a relationship. Plus Cullen is not a “one and done” guy so getting to the smut stage will take a bit of build-up.

ANYTHING YOU WOULD NOT WANT TO RP THERE?:  Hmmm things that he personally wouldn’t go for I guess? Honestly I don’t know. And obviously, no rape/animal abuse/predator nonsense.

ARE SHIPS IMPORTANT TO YOU?:   YES / NO Ships are a great way to further explore a character and their motivations. People do not exist in pure isolation, so I don’t believe characters should, either.

WOULD YOU SAY YOUR BLOG IS SHIP-FOCUSED?: YES / NO. I bolded both because the focus of the blog isn’t ships, but this thirst trap guy is really easy to ship with other people I tell ya hwat. I am severely picky with romantic ships for Reasons, but I don’t eschew any other types of ships. I encourage them!

DO YOU USE READ MORE?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES WHEN I WRITE LONG STUFF.

ARE YOU:  MULTI-SHIP / SINGLE-SHIP / DUAL-SHIP  —  MULTIVERSE / SINGLEVERSE.

WHAT DO YOU LOVE TO EXPLORE THE MOST IN YOUR SHIPS?: Characters who challenge Cullen into revising his point of view and force him to be a better person. Also, characters who understand his past and they are in no ways obligated to forgive it, but do recognise that he’s struggling very hard to mend whatever mistakes he can and is willing to pay the price for his decisions.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.  - Be a good salesperson and I might buy it.

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- WHAT COULD POSSIBLY MAKE YOUR MUSE INTERESTING TOWARDS OTHERS, WHY SHOULD THEY RP WITH THIS PARTICULAR CHARACTER OF YOURS NOW, WHAT POSSIBLE PLOTS DO THEY OFFER?: Cullen is a massive stick in the mud, which means it’s incredibly easy to taunt him and get him flustered all at the same time. He’s loyal, he’s intelligent, and he’s largely self-aware. He likes swords and using them. Anything your character hates about him, he most likely hates about himself 100 times more.

WITH WHAT TYPE OF MUSES DO YOU USUALLY STRUGGLE TO RP WITH?:  Those from the start that show absolutely no interest in speaking with/interacting with him. Mun and muse are going to struggle to stick around. I’m not going to fight for attention and neither is he.

WHAT DO THEY DESIRE, WHAT IS THEIR GOAL?:  Redemption. He wants to be a better person and make up for the past as much as he can.

WHAT CATCHES THEIR INTEREST FIRST WHEN MEETING SOMEONE NEW?:  He can sniff out a fellow Templar a mile away (or several miles, in the case of Samson). 

WHAT DO THEY VALUE IN A PERSON?:  Honesty, a strong will, devotion (not necessarily to the Maker or the Chantry, but to a just cause that focuses on protecting others).

WHAT THEMES DO THEY LIKE TALKING ABOUT?:  War stuff, chess, books, trebuchets, dogs.

WHICH THEMES BORE THEM?:  Lectures about anything. He did his time in Azkaban in the Circles. No more. Please no more.

DID THEY EVER WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TRAUMATIC?:  His parents died trying to escape the Blight, he was tortured for weeks/months on end by blood mages, almost all of his friends died because of it, he was manipulated and brainwashed by his superior, he was forced into a near-debilitating substance addiction by his workplace... yeah just a few things.

WHAT COULD LEAD TO AN INSTANT KILL?:  Darkspawn and abominations. 

IS THERE SOMEONE /-THING THEY HATE?:  Darkspawn and abominations. Blood mages on principle. Regular mages (but he’s working hard to remedy this extremely bad and prejudiced thinking). Himself.

IS YOUR MUSE EASY TO APPROACH?: YES / NO.    - BEST WAY TO APPROACH THEM?:  Just be polite and he won’t turn you away. He’s guarded, yes, but not impossible to talk to.

SOMETHING YOU MAY STILL WANT TO POINT OUT ABOUT YOUR MUSE?: You’ll find out by writing together! ;D

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

tagged by: pirated tagging: anyone who actually read this

[mlmlee]

This Is Your Warning!

Title: This Is Your Warning!

Ship: Logince (Romantic)

Word Count: 1112

Triggers: Vague mentions of injury/bleeding, but it isn’t graphic. If I need to add something, let me know!

A/N: Hi! This is honestly kinda my first tfic for this fandom, so tell me if I did a good thing or not? And I may or may not be completely projecting my love of tickling onto these characters because why not XD-- Also, criticism is appreciated when it’s constructive!! Thanks!!

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

“Roman, you know I love you dearly, but I simply must demand an answer to a question I’m wondering about. Why on earth would you ever think that walking around barefoot, outide, in the fucking winter snow and ice was a good idea?”

Roman blinked back at Logan for a few moments before declaring his, rather intelligent, sentiment of “I..Virgil said I wouldn’t do it, so obviously I had to prove him wrong!.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, clenching the other into a fist to avoid strangling his boyfriend. He would have to remember to talk to Virgil about that later.

“Okay, well, now your feet are borderline bleeding because they got so dry from the cold air outside. What exactly do you intend to do about that, if I may ask?”

Roman slowly blinked again. He looked down at his, admittedly very sore, feet, then back up to Logan. “Do you have any lotion, Logan? I’m out, and haven’t found the time to go somewhere and get more.”

Logan rolled his eyes before walking away to get the lotion. “I’ll be right back, Roman. Don’t go anywhere.” Logan threatened, heading to his room to get the bottle of lotion.

Roman hummed to himself while he awaited Logan’s return before he remembered something that made his entire face flush immediately.

He was insanely, undeniably ticklish. And, oh boy, Logan was about to find out.

Logan reappeared beside him, holding a bottle of lotion. “Okay, I’m back, Roman. I know you don’t like lotion on your hands, so do you want me to put it on for you?” Logan asked, looking up at the other. 

Roman, in an attempt to mentally prepare himself for what he knew was about to happen, nodded towards Logan. “Oh, um, yes, sure. Thank you, dear.”

Logan nodded and squirted a dollop of lotion onto his hands before sitting himself at the edge of the couch where Roman was seated, and took his boyfriend’s feet into his lap.

Roman took a steadying breath and clenched his fists as he felt Logan beginning to work the lotion into the incredibly sensitive skin.

Logan felt Roman tense up and glanced up, confused, until he saw his boyfriend’s face: red, eyes shut, and suppressing a smile, and he knew what was going on. 

Logan stopped rubbing in the lotion before grinning and lightly wiggling his fingers underneath Roman’s toes.

Roman snickered softly, and gently tugged at Logan’s hold on his feet.

Logan smirked slightly, glancing towards Roman. “Whatever could be wrong, Roman? Why is your face so red?”

Roman snickered and covered his face with his hands, trying to stifle any stray giggles from escaping.

Logan scratched across Roman’s heels, and Roman squeaked lightly, and quickly tugged his feet away from Logan, blushing lightly and pulling his knees up to his chest, watching Logan carefully.

Logan fondly rolled his eyes and tugged Roman back down by the ankles, readjusting the both of them so that he was now sitting and stradling Roman’s hips.

Roman flushed and looked at Logan. “W-whatcha doin there, Glasses Case?”

Logan smiled down at his boyfriend.

“Trying something. So. It appears that the mighty prince is perhaps a bit ticklish. Am I right?”

Roman bit his lip lightly, before crossing his arms stubbornly. “What? No, of-of course not.” Roman averted his eyes off to the side, knowing what was to follow.

Logan suddenly got an idea. He lightly clicked his teeth. “Roman, do you promise not to take Virgil up on irresponsible dares any more?”

Roman furrowed his eyebrows before glaring up at Logan. “Of course not. I have a reputation to keep up here as the adventurous side! I will not let it crumble because of the words of that sullen stormy knight.”

Logan nodded curtly. “Very well, then. Just know that you chose this way.”

Roman looked confused. “What waAY- Hey!”

Roman broke into giggles as he felt ten fingers individually wiggling into his sides. “Nononononono! Ihihit tihick-tihihic-!”

Logan smirked. “Tickles? Well, I should certainly hope so. That does tend to be the intended goal of tickling an individual.”

Roman flushed bright red when he heard that word. “Dohohon’t sahay ihihit!”

Logan cracked a smile. “What? ‘Tickle’? It is merely a word, Roman, it will not do anything to harm you, I can assure you.”

Roman giggled and covered his face to hide his blushy cheeks. Logan took note that 

Roman was not making any attempt to stop him.

“Well, Roman? Are you going to stop doing stupid things just because you and Virgil think it is entertaining?”

Roman snorted when he felt two thumbs drill into his hips. “NOHOHO!”

Logan tsked and paused his fingers for a moment. “Well, then, I simply have no choice in the matter. I must tickle the nonsense out of you.”

Roman squeaked as he saw Logan once again lower his fingers over his quivering tummy, holding his breath in an attempt to hold in his giggles.

Logan quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t have to look so shy, Roman. It is apparent that you are enjoying yourself. You have not yet asked me to stop, after all. It is quite endearing.”

Roman covered his grin and giggled. Logan wiggled his fingers above Roman’s tummy, watching as Roman’s eyes followed his fingers carefully. Logan smiled when Roman giggled, wiggling slightly in place.

“What’s wrong, Roman? I haven’t even touched you yet.” Logan held a certain twinkle in his eyes that showed his sincere love for the other. 

Suddenly, the fingers resting just above Roman’s tummy touched down, scribbling rapidly across the sensitive flesh.

Roman fell into helpless giggles. “Ah! Nohohoho, Logahan!”

Logan did not pause at all. “Yes, Roman, that is my name. Is there something you require?”

Roman snorted and fell back into a pool of giggly goop, and didn’t respond other than the occasional squeak.

Logan paused his wiggling fingers to repeat his question. “Well? Now do you promise to be more responsible, Roman?” Logan grinned before wiggling his fingers threateningly again. 

Roman giggled and gave in. “Ohokay! I gihive. No more of that, I promise. Dearest.”

Logan smiled before pulling Roman to a sitting position, right beside him. “Good. At least we both have the assurance that you two will be safer.”

Logan paused before he remembered something important. “Oh, Roman?”

Roman tilted his head slightly, resulting in an image that somewhat resembled a puppy. 

“Yeah, specs?”

“I never did finish putting on that lotion. Looks like we’ll have to finish that up now.”

The rest of the afternoon in the mindpalace  was filled with lots and lots of royal giggles.

[ding-dong-sunshine-future]

Amethyst RP Blog!

✭Welcome to the Blog Y'all!✭

✦To start off, my name is Star, and I’m the mun/moderator of this here blog. If you want to send an ask to me directly, make sure you clarify that you are speaking to Star. ((I also speak as Star or out of character (ooc) like this!))

Here are the rules of roleplaying here at Casa Ding-Dong:

✯As stated before, if you wish to send an ask to the mod(Star), you have to clarify that you are talking to them.

✯Please, no godmodding when in RP! It gets really frustrating and unfair, and if you do godmod at all, I have every right to abandon the RP.

✯Please don’t take it too personally if I fail to answer your asks/submissions! It’s not because I don’t want to roleplay with you or don’t particularly like you, it’s just that I’m usually busy most of the time, or maybe I don’t like the topic of the roleplay, or perhaps I’m just not feeling up to it. I have every right to refuse an RP request or starter!

✯If you do wish to RP, send your starter as an ask, submission, or seperate post tagged with my URL.

✯I will not tolerate being sent hate to myself or others who roleplay with me! If your criticism is less than constructive or kind, don’t send it! I simply don’t have the time nor patience to deal with hate that is 100% unneeded!

✯However, I’m more than happy to receive constructive criticism if any is needed! I’ve never taken part in an RP as Amethyst beforehand, nor have I ever even ran an RP blog- so constructive criticism is always appreciated!

✯RPs will take place in Beach City, Delmarva unless otherwise stated by either me or whoever wishes to RP with me. Roleplays that take place in cannon times (aka, where amethyst is in the show as of now) won’t happen unless stated, meaning I’ll usually set my roleplays in Beach City.

✯If you have questions about anything, don’t be afraid to ask! I’ll usually reply in private unless I give an answer that I find will be helpful to others viewing this blog.

✯No NSFW please! I’ll allow flirting and junk like that, but I want this blog to be friendly for the young’ns or the people who are uncomfortable with that junk!

✯Younger Amethyst RPs (like when Greg first met the crystal gems) are acceptable as long as the characters are from that time period (Greg, Vidalia, Rose, etc.)

✯No AUs please! I’m kind of nervous that I’d mess up in one of those, heh-

✯Ships are allowed unless it's too toxic, other than that, I'm fine with any ship, OC or not!

✯OC’s are allowed, just don’t make it too complex for me, and no Mary Sue’s!

✯If i’m up for it, I’ll respond to crack roleplays for sh*ts and giggles.

✯Keep in mind that I am fairly new at this, for this is my very first RP blog!

Now that that is all done and over with, I'm ready to rumble and roleplay!

Don't you hesitate to send one at me! ✦