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so-long-soldier-writes · 1 year ago

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Feeding 101

kai parker x reader

summary: damon was a great teacher during elena's transition, but he's less than helpful when kai escapes hell and needs to feed. luckily, you're there at the right place, right time, and offer to teach him, (much to damon's disapproval). | heretic!kai

tags: based on s08e13, mention of twilight, blood drinking, blood sharing, feelings, confessions, arguments, protective!damon but also protective!kai, mention of sex but no sexual content, almost kiss

word count: ~2.7k

You’re too busy texting to look where you’re going. A nervous text from Alaric; a warning, judging by his unusual use of the red exclamation + question mark emoji. You stumble to the bathroom to read it, wanting your reaction to be out of sights from the crowded diner. Mystic Falls has been a mess lately; no doubt it concerns the next big enemy.

But as you burst open the nearest door, you catch the sight of two bodies occupying. Right as you turn to leave, you realize it’s Damon by the sink.

“Oh, shit, sorry - wait, Damon?!”

This is an uncommon place to find him. Usually, he’d be at the Mystic Grill or the Scull Bar. Never at the rather unkempt small diner on the end of the street. You, however, go there often, whenever you need to escape wandering eyes and small-town chatter. Damon, often both the cause of the eyes and the chatter, enjoys being in the center of attention.

However, when you catch his gaze this time, his throat tightens in fear. “Y/N, out! Go!”

His urgency scares you. Your eyes bounce around the room for the threat, wondering what’s so imperative that you hurry on your way out the door.

You settle your attention on the figure beside him. Well, not one, but two.

One man slouched against the wall, diner apron still loosely around his waist. Another man is holding him up by his shoulders, feeding on his neck.

You startle at the sight, not expecting it.

“Get out, Y/N!”

The man feeding is too caught up in his gig to notice your presence, but you soon start to recognize his shoulders.

You stop, feet planted into the cement; fear becoming curiosity. “Is that Kai?”

“No!”

At the same time, the man in question lets the diner cook slump to the ground. He turns to Damon, unsuccessfully wiping blood off his face. “So that was-” he finally sees you, “hey, I remember you.”

“She’s leaving,” Damon answers. “Y/N, go!”

“Y/N, that was it!”

You’re having trouble tearing your eyes from his face. Jesus Christ, he’s a messy eater.

“Is this the big emergency Ric texted me about?!”

Damon shrugs, “probably.”

“As much as I love talking about Ric, I need to feed on more than just this big guy. I’ve been in hell for a long time, Damon, and-”

“I know! You’re hungry; I get it. We’re having a little problem right now of finding people that you can eat. It’s not like there’s a line outside of willing participants.”

You swallow hard.

Kai’s always made you feel a type of way you couldn’t explore. His bloodstained lips and teeth multiply that feeling tenfold, reminding you why you came to Mystic Falls in the first place. Vampires, witches, werewolves. You started out as a Twilight enthusiast looking for adventure, attending Whitmore College, but then became a valuable asset to the team.

God, if Kai ever knew how hard it was for Elena to keep you away from him, you’d probably die inside. You fell for him hard. And now, staring at him in his full transition, you can already feel those tingles returning.

“What are you guys doing?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“Kai here says he can bring back Elena, but he needs to be strong enough to do the spell.”

Ah. You shift your feet nervously. Even despite what he did to your best friend, you can’t help your desire for him. “So you need to go,” Damon continues, “and not be a witness anymore, and we need to go find more bad people.”

“Why only bad people?”

“So that Damon doesn’t feel guilty for eating good ones,” Kai answers, to which Damon gives him a distasteful smile.

“And, because like I said, you don’t exactly have anybody willing to be fed on, especially not by you. So we have to get a move on it if we’re to reverse this spell quickly, before Cade gets his hands on you.”

“Cade?”

“He’s coming for me, because I escaped Hell.” He glances down at the diner cook again, wondering if any of his blood is still fresh for a second round. “I really don’t want to go back there, to Hell, and every time I feed, I can feel myself getting stronger, so that’s great, in case I need to fight him.” Kai takes in the sight of you one last time before tearing his lust-filled eyes away. “So if we can find more people-”

“Feed on me.”

“What?”

“What?!” Damon repeats Kai’s question, but with extra dismay.

“You need to feed, but are having trouble selecting people. I’m a willing participant; feed on me.”

“Yeah, that’s a no.”

“C’mon, Damon, you want Elena back, and so do I, and I don’t know… I trust Kai won’t kill me.”

“Y/N, do you not see the dead guy slumped on the floor?”

“Yeah but Kai knows me. You both do. I’m not some villain, or some unimportant cook.”

“That man was very important,” Damon fakes, “he was doing his job, serving burgers-”

“He was forcing his hand on an underage girl,” Kai interrupts, “that’s why we picked him.”

“See? Eating people with a good cause. C’mon, Kai, I trust you. Just heal me back up when you’re done. Has Damon taught you how to do that yet?”

“No.”

“Okay, then I will.” You shrug off your coat, exposing your neck. “Come here. Pierce this vein,” you point, “and drink from it.”

“No!” Damon lunges for Kai when he steps closer to you. “Y/N, this is insane!”

“It’s fine! You’re being dramatic!”

“You’re being under-dramatic!”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It certainly is!”

“He isn’t going to drain me, I’m just giving him enough to make him stronger. You want Elena back, right? So do I. Kai, drink.”

The vampire steps closer, flicking his tongue against your neck. When your knees buckle at the sensation, he grabs your waist to hold you up.

“You okay?”

“Mhm. Go ahead.”

Damon can only watch as Kai follows your instruction, biting down carefully into your jugular vein and beginning to suck. He was never so careful with his previous victims, and would let himself tear messily into their skin before finding his latch. Blood would stream down their neck and his chin, staining them both. You showing him where to latch makes his bite a lot cleaner. Instead of worrying about hurting you, he can focus his attention on keeping you upright.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Damon asks, also noticing your weak knees.

“Mhm- yes.” You grab onto Kai for support. He pulls off to look at you, but latches back on when you nod the consent to continue.

“Doesn’t look like that from here.”

“It’s just… intense. I’m okay.”

After a minute or two, your skin pales. Your body is weakening under Kai’s strong grip, and he realizes quickly, detaching his teeth from your neck.

“Hey, what do I-”

“Bite here,” you point to his own wrist, “feed me your blood to heal me.”

“Bite here,” he repeats, situating his teeth on himself. He bites, then it bleeds. “Like Damon’s done?”

“Exactly.”

“Okay.” He pushes his wrist up to your mouth, almost force-feeding you. You would’ve grabbed onto his wrist and fed yourself, but the way Kai does it, like he’s desperate for you to heal, makes you wonder if he could really feel that way.

Within seconds, you start to feel like yourself again. The color returns to your face, and you get a little of your strength back. Most of it is turned to mush at the fact that he fed from you - he literally fucking fed from you; your heart is racing - but not all of your weakened state is due to overwhelming feelings.

“Are you okay?”

“Mh- yes.”

“Are you sure?” Damon overrides, coming up behind you.

“I’m good. Fuck,” you’re still trying to catch your breath, exhilaration coursing through you, “felt good.”

“Well it isn’t supposed to feel good,” the elder vampire comments.

“I, um, I just meant… the healing part of it did. Felt good to have my strength back.”

“Mhm, sure.”

“I didn’t hurt you?” Kai asks, head tilted.

“No, you didn’t. You’re okay.” He smiles, then brushes a loose hair from your face. You have a suddenly overwhelming urge to kiss him, but doubt Damon would like that very much. Instead, you point towards the sink, then at his bloodstained mouth. “Let me clean you up, okay? Can’t go anywhere with dead line cook all over your face.”

Kai takes a step back to let you reach the sink, while Damon tries not to be dumbfounded at how okay you are with this whole situation.

You wet a paper towel and add a teensy bit of hand soap, then beckon Kai forward.

“Thanks for teaching me how to feed properly,” he says, watching the first bit of blood wash down the drain.

“Of course. I don’t know why Damon didn’t-”

“-because that’s not my job, Y/N. And it wasn’t yours, either.”

“Still. There’s a huge bloodstain on the wall now, and that one certainly isn’t my problem.”

“We’ll just leave it for the cleaning lady. Put an ‘Out of Order’ sign on the door.”

“Nice,” you reply dryly.

“Hey, while I was feeding,” Kai says suddenly, “I felt this rush go through your body that I hadn’t tasted before. Is that normal?”

Damon’s heart drops to his toes. “It was fear,” he tries to say. He knows you had a crush seven years ago, and Kai does not need to learn about it now.

“I’m asking Y/N.”

“I, um… yeah, I mean, normal sometimes. Blood sharing can be really personal, so since you weren’t feeding to kill, it’s not…” you glance over to Damon, who’s making gestures of cutting off a head to make you stop talking, “it’s, uh, normal.”

“It’s personal? Like how?”

Damon’s eyes roll all the way to space. He slaps a hand to his forehead.

“Um, like… well… that level of trust that I put in you, coupled again, with the fact that you weren’t feeding to kill. Sometimes it can stir up, uh, feelings.”

“Feelings?”

“Oohkay, Y/N, you’ve done enough!”

“I don’t know how to explain it!”

“Blood sharing is personal because you’re feeding off one another in a really intimate way, sometimes more intimate than sex. Now, Kai, another important thing you’re gonna learn about being a vampire is compulsion. Compel her to forget this ever happened.”

“What?” You step back in surprise, “no!”

“Come on, Y/N, it’s for your safety. He doesn’t have any feelings anyway.”

“No! Damon-”

“For the record, I feel things sometimes. Remember - hello - merge with Luke? And before that, I could feel, I just didn’t know what I was feeling.”

“Neat. Great. Compel her anyway.”

“Damon!”

“No! She doesn’t want it. I’m not gonna force something on her that she doesn’t want.”

“I bet this guy didn’t want to die, did you think about that?”

“That’s different. She’s different. She matters.”

“Oh, great.”

“You just said blood sharing is really intimate, so why would I compel her when she doesn’t want it when we practically just had sex?”

“That is not what I said!”

“It is, too!”

Damon sighs, “you compel her because it’s for her own good! Because she should never be caught doing anything with the likes of you. You’re only gonna get her killed.”

“I didn’t get her killed just a minute ago when I was feeding on her.”

“Because she showed you how! Otherwise, you would’ve just ripped into her neck like this other guy here.”

“No, I wouldn’t have fed on her at all if she didn’t teach me, because I’ve never wanted to hurt her.”

Damon throws up his hands. “God! Kai, why?!”

“Oh, is it suddenly bad that I care about someone?! I thought that’s all you ever wanted from me. And now I do, and I’m the bad guy again?”

“You were never the good guy, I-”

“Okay, just stop it!” You interrupt, putting hands between the men. “This is ridiculous.”

“His apparent, sudden feelings for you are ridiculous!”

“I’ve had a crush on her since the day I merged with Luke,” he blurts out.

“What?” You and Damon say in unison, both now looking at him.

He sighs. “You were there for Bonnie’s birthday and helped us all send a message to her. But after my sister stabbed me and Damon healed me with his blood, you were the one that cleaned me up and made sure I was okay. I always thought you were cute, but from that day on, I don’t know, I just felt something.” He looks down, embarrassed. “I never said anything because I’m, well, me, and you’re you - this super sweet and gentle and caring person, and I would be nothing but wrong for you. And the only reason I agreed to feed on you today was because I am really hungry, and your blood smells just so good, and you were willing to teach me how to do it without hurting you.” He pauses, “I’m sorry for lying to you, and I’m sorry for causing such a big fight, and for letting this get out, but that’s the truth.”

“You had a crush on me,” you say, not really as a question. Kai looks up, unable to read your tone, hoping your face gives you away. He expects mocking, certainly not the excitement you seem to have instead.

“Yeah.”

“Damon,” you turn suddenly, “did you hear that?”

“Yep, all three times, Y/N.”

You turn back to Kai, expression unreadable. “For the record-”

“Y/N, don’t-” Damon attempts.

You ignore, “I’ve always had a crush on you, too.”

A smile tugs at the edge of his lips. “You have?”

“Even before the merge, I liked you, but then after it, watching you navigate the world, I couldn’t help but fall head over heels. I wanted to help you through it more but somebody…” you glance at Damon, “held me back.”

“For good reason-”

You interrupt him again. “But yes, Kai, I like you.”

“Even as a heretic?”

“You think I’d let just anyone feed on me? Let alone a baby vamp who I literally just watched rip open another guy’s neck?”

He smiles. “Got it.”

“If anything, it was hot.”

“Y/N-”

“You learning control on me was hot, too, but that display of near-rabid vampirism was also super hot.”

“Y/N-” Damon warns again, not liking the direction of the conversation.

“And yeah, I wouldn’t share my blood with just anyone. So, yes, Kai, I think it’s safe to say I like you even as a heretic.”

Kai’s hand finds its way to the side of your face. An overwhelming urge to kiss you settles in his bones.

“Nope-” Damon speeds forward to separate you. “You can talk about your weird, gross, feelings, but we aren’t going any further with them today.”

“Alright, alright.”

“Damon,” you warn, not liking the grip he has on Kai’s shirt. “Easy.”

“Oh, he’s fine. He’s a big, strong heretic now, right?” He pushes him hard into the wall.

Kai groans, pain coursing through his body for a mere second before any bruises heal themselves.

“Damon!” You come to his side. “Let go.” Luckily, he does. Kai makes another, lower groan as his body is released from the man’s clutches. You try to not let it go to your head. “Can we just… go do whatever it is you were doing earlier now? This guy is starting to smell.”

Damon looks at him, then at the two of you. “Fine, whatever. Y/N, I’m assuming I can’t shake you off?”

“Nope.”

“Alright. Then let’s go make enemies out of my friends.” You tilt your head in confusion.

“Bonnie, who’s helping Kai get out permanently. Alaric, with… Alaric in general. Elena, when we wake her, for letting her realize I failed to keep you two apart like she tried so hard to do. Matt-”

“We get it.”

“Good. Then let’s go.”

#malachai parker x reader #kai parker x reader #tvd fanfiction #kai parker oneshot #this is 2/2 things i wanted to post today!#hopefully my writer's block is over with and life will chill out bc ugh #i hate not being able to write and post #anyway the world needs more heretic kai fics i need him to bite me

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callslips · 8 months ago

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omg the pure joy that just brought me ahhhh i need more. can i request an angry first kiss in the wilderness?

Yes, you may.

Lottienat drabble time!!!

Rated 17+!

Features: Lottienat angst, Lottie POV, making out, light petting, choking??? tw for blood (visually and textually)

I think i played around with the timeline a bit? Time for a rewatch!

Word count: 1242

you bleed how I bleed (but don’t let that mislead you)

Nat’s mad at her, and not for the first time Lottie has little to no idea why. She tries to help, she tries to offer comfort, she tries and tries and tries, and yet nothing is ever enough. She tries to protect Nat, and even that is enough to upset her. Travis accepts her offerings with thanks - a welcome reprieve, but arguing with Nat is like arguing with a bull. She’s stubborn, headstrong and fierce and worst of all — Lottie admires all of these traits and more.

It’s why when Nat finds her, blood dripping from the self-inflicted wound within her palm, she’s not surprised at the ire that follows.

“What the actual fuck are you doing?” Nat yells - or, it’s less of a yell than it is an exhausted exclamation.

Lottie watches as if in a sort of trance as she clenches her hand and the blood drips from her palm onto the marking she’d carved into the cavern of a tree. “I just want it to be enough,” She tries to explain, “I don’t want anyone else to - to get hurt.” To die, is what she means, but it’s too raw — everything is too raw. It’s not at all what she wants to say, but she never seems to say the right thing when it comes to Nat.

In a moment her wounded arm is snatched away, the cut stinging with the removed pressure.

“Fucking - acting like this is not going to do anything, Lottie! Can’t you see it? We’re going to fucking die out here, and instead of doing shit you’re worshipping something that doesn’t even fucking exist. It’s just us, and we have to - I don’t know, we have to do something, and you think this is the answer? Hurting yourself?”

Lottie whimpers, blood crimson as it drips onto the snow. “I’m protecting us. It will see that I’m offering myself, and it won’t hurt anyone else, and everything will be okay-“

“Nothing about this is going to be fucking okay! Jackie’s dead - she’s in a fucking meat shed, Lottie. It’s just going to get worse, and you acting fucking crazy - pulling everyone into your bullshit, that’s not helping.”

“It’s not bullshit! It was in me, and It’s in you too. You just can’t see It yet.”

Lottie sees Nat shove her before she feels it, amazed at the aggression. It’s in her, she knows it. “It’s shit like that! You’re scaring people, Lottie! There is no ‘It’! There’s just you, and this shit you’ve made up to cope, and people actually believe you. Do you know how insane all of this is?”

Stumbling a little from the push, Lottie uses her uninjured hand to brace herself against the tree moments before impact. She can’t help the grin that spreads across her lips, the shudder that racks through her when she’s pushed again, back hitting the tree harshly.

Nat’s pissed, cheeks red with cold and something else - eyebrows furrowed and fangs bared like a wild animal. Lottie hadn’t intended to get her to this point but it was always an inevitable, their butting of heads. Still, it fills her with a giddy sensation, pulls a manic laugh out of her. “I told you,” Lottie couldn’t wipe the grin off her lips if she tried. “It’s in you. You just have to set It free, Nat, and you’ll understand. All of it.”

A hand wraps around her throat threateningly, though there’s no pressure behind it. Nat’s looking at her incredulously, using an iota of strength to pin Lottie to the tree - it’s not like Lottie would fight back anyway. “You’ve officially fucking lost it.”

It’s the closest Nat had chosen to be to her aside from the pre-hunt ritual. It only serves to make Lottie more giddy, to broaden her grin.

“What’s so funny?” Nat asks irritably, now beginning to apply pressure. Lottie’s limp arm proceeds to drip blood onto the snow as if emboldened, scarlet and beautiful.

Lottie licks her chapped lips and doesn’t miss the way Nat’s eyes flicker down. “You’re shaking.” Lottie laughs, though it’s a little choked through the grip on her neck. “You’re scared It’s in you. It’s too late.”

“That’s not why I’m shaking,” Nat says, malice behind every word.

“Then why?” Lottie asks, though she’s almost positive she knows the answer.

“I fucking hate you.”

Then lips are against Lottie’s, cold and chapped and bruising, dripping with unbridled rage. It’s not innocent, it’s not sweet, Lottie’s certain it’s not how Nat has kissed Travis.

It’s quick - Nat pulls away as if she’s been burned, hand leaving Lottie’s throat as if she’s finally come to. Lottie levels her with a sickly-sweet smile. “How much?” She ignores the heaving of Nat’s chest, the way she’s biting her lips as if in restraint. “How much do you hate me, Nat?” She takes a brave step into Nat’s space, uses their height difference in an almost demeaning way.

Maybe Lottie is a little unhinged. That doesn’t make It any less real.

The act spurs something in Nat, something raw and animalistic as she yanks Lottie down by the cuff of her winter coat and kisses her again this time - more assuredly but just as fueled by anger. This kiss burns, and Lottie can’t help but hiss as she realizes Nat has bitten her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. It smears against the both of their lips and quickly warms the kiss, the pain shooting through both Lottie’s hand and now her lip nothing compared to the euphoria of seeing Nat let go.

The kiss turns filthy, blood mixing with saliva as it turns open-mouthed, the taste of iron tinging both of their tongues.

Lottie feels Nat push her back up against the tree with her free hand, the bark rough even through the fabric of her clothes. Her bloodied hand dangles uselessly, though she doesn’t hesitate to tangle her free hand in Nat’s hair. Nat started it - she wasn’t backing out so easily.

It’s impossible for Lottie not to moan into the kiss, not when it’s this dirty, this angry. Nat’s lips are insistent, the pressure behind them making Lottie’s newly-attained wound sting even more. It doesn’t help when Nat bites again, when she dips her hand under the fabric of Lottie’s layered clothing to dig furious nails into her skin.

“Nat,” Lottie moans, sensations building until this isn’t enough, until she needs something more.

“Shut the fuck up.” Nat growls against her lips, nails pressing harder as their tongues resume their dance, Lottie’s dangling hand itching to paint Nat red with her blood.

Obediently, Lottie fights the whimper that threatens to bubble in her throat. There’s something about this Nat that isn’t like her usual self, that sends a little shock of fear down Lottie’s spine. It may be inside all of them, but within Nat It’s vicious, scathing and unrestrained.

Nat’s hand climbs Lottie’s side, scratching at the skin until she skims the underwire of Lottie’s bra. At this Lottie can’t help but murmur a “Please,” thighs clenched tight as Nat toys with her, Nat’s own sadistic grin pressed against Lottie’s lips.

When she pulls away their lips are connected by red-tinged spit, Lottie breathing heavily while Nat, aside from the flush in her cheeks, looks strangely collected - pleased for once, even.

“We should head back - get your hand wrapped up.” Nat says, like she cares.

Lottie, briefly, understands this ‘hate’ feeling.

Notes: first drabble on here ….i hope you enjoyed anon <3 if not you’re free to stone me

#this was so much fun #i hope its okay #guac writes #lottienat #yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio #lottienat headcanons #tw nsft #yellowjackets fanfic #lottienat fanfic #guac answers #guac hcs #lottie matthews #lottienat drabble #teen lottienat #tw blood

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secretlythepits · 2 months ago

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Halfway through the trip.

It rained hard this morning so my husband took the boys to see Mission Impossible. Theatre is an hour away, so 5 hours of needed free time for me. I don’t think I will ever see a movie in a theatre again. It would be too overwhelming for my brain. I’m ok with that.

We have seen some beautiful nature. He has done way better than expected, but has had a couple of crashes. He gets disheartened. On crazy thing is his vision changing on a daily basis. That’s a huge quality of life issue. He needs to be checked by his doctors, but can’t be.

I have a lot of anxiety about going to Sequoia. Trees are my favorite, but I worry about the drive, parking, and crowds. I do not like this part of myself. I think I’m going to just decided not to care. It’s very hard to manage my family getting their act together to leave places super early and I’m sick of being the nag. Hopefully it will all work out.

I recently read something that blew my mind:

People cling to being right because affirming that their point of view was correct makes them feel safe. It’s deeply evolutionary. “I understand how the world works, therefore, I can safely navigate it.”

Wow.

My family members drive me crazy needing to be proven right (even when they are clearly wrong). It’s always puzzled me. I don’t really mind admitting when I am wrong, but then again, I rarely am. (Ha!) I am analytical, research a lot, and spend lots of time thinking—these traits eliminate lots of careless mistakes. I am genuinely curious when I learn someone has a completely different perspective than I do and I always stop and consider if I am wrong or maybe we both are right even though we see things differently. I also feel secure in my intelligence so when I screw up, it doesn’t make me feel stupid.

My husband and one of my sons can be so adamant about their worldview and it’s mind blowing for me to frame it in terms of safety. I hope I can use this to form more compassionate responses when they are wrong. Maybe acknowledging the part where they were correct, to affirm their sense of safety, will help. I’ll give it a try. It definitely helps me understand why they will die on hills that don’t exist. It also helps me process my own adamancy. If I really need to point out that I’m right, thats probably just my instinct to feel safe in our confusing world.

This tangent was brought to you by the letter A. A for Anxiety. So much is out of my control, I can either try to manage the mysteries (and good luck with that) or learn to live with them.

I prefer exclamation points to question marks, but they are less accurate and less interesting, right?

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sheepibum · 8 months ago

Text

Title: a constellation of blood drops

Summary: Tekkadan decides to salvage Gaelio’s mobile suit for spare parts; turns out that the most useful one is the pilot. To the dismay of everyone involved.

i | ii | iii | iv | v |

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

VI. nulla dies umquam memori vos eximet aevo (no day shall erase you from the memory of time)

Gaelio has been preemptively regretting having to talk to McGillis about this ever since the last serious conversation he had with Mikazuki. It has made him miserable, but at least he’s prepared when the man boards the Isaribi and makes time to speak with him.

He clears his throat from the dread filling his stomach and forges ahead, because he made a promise, damn it.

“How much do you remember about the laws regarding polygamous marriage for a member of the Seven Stars Families?” is what he says.

Predictably, McGillis turns toward him with a smile that could cut glass.

“Oh? Are you planning that far ahead already?”

Gaelio does his best to shrug without wincing.

“Say, if I were to marry all members of Tekkadan, would they be recognized as free citizens of the Earth Sphere?”

And Gaelio will tell himself later to mark this day on his calendar, because it’s the first time he has managed to surprise McGillis into howling with laughter until he’s a writhing mass of humanity curled up in a ball, trying to fit his fist into his own mouth to hush the sounds he’s making.

“There is...” He gasps, still shaking. “There is a limit to the number of... consorts an heir of one of the families is allowed to have.”

Gaelio sighs; of course there is.

“Less than—” He does a mental calculation, the whole of Tekkadan plus whatever relatives they may have, plus the pastry sisters might be too big of a stretch; he probably would have to make do with the most vulnerable younger members; “—fifty?”

McGillis snorts, but it is good-naturedly and his eyes are still bright. It’s a good look on him. Makes it a bit harder to remember that Gaelio will never forgive him.

“Try twelve.”

“Damn.”

“Yes,” McGillis nods, his smile sharpening in way that is impossible to ignore. “However, there are no laws that limit the number of children an heir of one of the families can adopt to ensure the survival of their House and Legacy.”

Gaelio doesn’t ask is that what you father did? but he thinks about it, and that’s bad enough. Regardless of their past, they are here now, working toward a common goal, and that goal involves making sure that the members of Tekkadan have a life waiting for them when this conflict ends.

“Thank you, McGillis.”

“You’re welcome,” McGillis honest smile is becoming a more common sight these days, but it still manages to punch the breath out of him every time. “But you were also right, should you choose to marry, your spouse would be recognized as a free citizen of the Earth Sphere and part of one of the families.”

“That’s... good.”

“Yes, I suppose Mikazuki Bauduin has a nice ring to it.” And then, because he’s a bastard, he adds: “However, I must remind you that your family will ask you to provide an heir, so you should discuss the topic of surrogacy with him before that.”

It is entirely possible that McGillis is trying to rile him up, but really, they grew up in the same social circles and he should know better. Gaelio has already thought extensively about that.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, Miss Atra seems already determined to carry his children and there is no requirement for the heir of the family to be blood related to me.”

McGillis stares at him gob smacked and Gaelio mentally adds another exclamation point to the mark that he will put on his calendar. He has surprised him twice in less than twenty minutes, surely that is some kind of record. Next thing he knows, McGillis is laughing so hard that he’s in pain and Orga bangs into the door threatening the two of them to behave and don’t make me come in there like an angry mother.

What even is his life.

★

There is no point in pretending that Mikazuki would choose him above everyone else vying for his attention, but those vying for his attention will at last have to recognize that it would be a convenient union. For all involved.

“Four spouses is well within the limits, isn’t it?”

“The Turbines have been a terrible influence on you, Gaelio. But yes, four is a very respectable number, especially so if the point seems to be to ensure an adequate offspring is produced... But four?”

“... Mikazuki should be obvious.”

“So it is, but he is also the choice that would be most contended.”

McGillis doesn’t need to clarify what he means; not only is Mikazuki another man, and a much too young looking one to boot, and that will be enough to get tongues wagging, but he is also from Mars, and not even a citizen but a Human Debris. He has the stigma of the Alaya-Vijnana system quite literally impressed upon his skin. He has no family ties that could offer any sort of advantage financially, politically or otherwise, although the reputation of Tekkadan should at least assuage those seeking advantage in military affairs. He is also, and the thought alone stings, disabled when not plugged to the Barbatos. He is quite possibly the worst choice of a partner he could make. There is no one else he wants more, is the thing.

Atra is little better, and she reminds him too much of his own sister to treat her as anything else, but he could pretend for all of their sakes. Mikazuki would not leave her behind, and Atra would not let Mikazuki go anywhere she wouldn’t be able to follow, so accepting her has been an unavoidable choice.

“Mikazuki and Miss Atra, then, I understand, but the other two?”

Gaelio explains his next choice, making no effort to hide how much it pains him to do so.

Kudelia is a possibility, both a best-case and worst-case scenario at once. On the one hand, a union with her would be glaringly obviously beneficial in all the ways that matter to the remaining members of the Seven Stars, on the other hand, she is as infamous as she is popular and the ideas she fights for haven’t exactly endeared her to those who wish to protect the status quo. He would have to tread lightly when presenting his intentions, but if she cares for Mikazuki, and he knows she does, she would have to accept that the protection offered by his lineage would be an invaluable asset.

“Alright then,” McGillis winces, and it’s a wonder that he has stopped wearing his mask at all times around him. “And the fourth? Orga?”

Orga Itsuka loves Mikazuki in a wholly different way, but he would never accept to marry Gaelio for his sake, pretense or not.

Gaelio sighs, exasperated.

“Hush Middy, at this point I think is accurate to say that I would need a crowbar to pry him off Mikazuki.”

(Orga comes banging at the door not five minutes later, after one of the younger members of Tekkadan goes and tells him that McGillis is being murdered in his own room and is dying quite loudly.

“I swear to god!” Snarls Orga, when he slams open the door, although he doesn’t believe in any higher beings.

“That’s just how he laughs, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Make him stop!”)

★

McGillis is no longer laughing, but there’s a small smile on his face that makes it seem like he’s no longer Atlas, burdened by the weight of the world and its sins.

It is with that same smile, but cold, cold eyes that he turns to Gaelio and speaks once more.

“You’ll have to make sure they survive the war, then.”

Gaelio catches himself before nodding, the tone of McGillis voice so mild he could have been talking about the weather. This is not something they have discussed before.

“War?” The word leaves his chest like a ragged exhalation, and McGillis looks sorry for him.

“... I’m sorry, Gaelio.”

Sometimes, McGillis makes it too easy to remember that he should hate him. That he does, sometimes.

“What have you not told me, McGillis?”

McGillis closes his eyes and begins to talk.

★

“That was your plan?” He sneers, in spite of himself, once McGillis is finished. “That was—that was your plan, that was it?!”

McGillis opens his mouth to defend said plan, be he needn’t have bothered. Gaelio has no intention of letting him speak.

“What were you going to do if they didn’t accept your command?! What made you think they would take a look at a Mobile Suit and submit just for an obsolete law?!”

“It the Gundam with the soul of—”

“It’s a Mobile Suit, for fuck’s sake! A children’s story!”

And oh, isn’t that a revelation. The way McGillis jaw snaps shut, against the cruelty of the world that insists on shattering the ideals he holds most dear? A fairy tale with brave knights that are able to save the world with a feat of valor, of strength?

This world is not so kind.

(Had he always been so naive? Or had he, like Gaelio, chosen to blind himself to whatever threatened the hope he had managed to salvage for himself?)

No, this world is far too cruel for a man like him. He can almost justify still caring for him.

“I always thought you were the smartest out of all of us,” he says, because he still loves this man like a brother, but he hasn’t forgiven him and probably never will. “I’m glad to see that is not the case.”

And then—and then he dares and places his hand on McGillis shoulder, a ghost of a touch.

“I’m sure we can come up with some other plan, between the two of us. Just in case,” he adds, because he doesn’t want to see the hope crushed in his eyes again.

“Yes,” McGillis smiles. “Thank you, Gaelio.”

His real smile is a thing of wonder, so different from the usual, controlled upturn of his mouth than Gaelio learned to associate with the man that it changes his whole face, makes him looks years younger.

Gaelio has to swallow down the bitterness in his throat. This is what he means. So many years, and he never noticed he had been living a lie. He hadn’t wanted to notice, he just wanted the comfort of having his friends, his upper-class life, of not wanting for anything.

He has to go to the Barbatos after that, and for the first time he’s the one who pulls Mikazuki against him and holds him there even though Mikazuki protests that he was practicing his writing. This world is far too cruel. It has taken far too much from the people he has come to care about, and he can’t help—he can’t help but think that it’s not over yet.

★

Given the latest revelations, Gaelio has had no choice but to (once again) come to the same, sad conclusion he’s been trying to forget in this new lease of life: ultimately, he cannot trust McGillis.

Hell, he can only barely trust himself. In all honesty, given that he was born and raised in the same cesspit as McGillis and Catra and Iok fucking Kujan, he shouldn’t trust himself at all.

Unfortunately, circumstances demand that he stepped up and played the role of responsible adult, regardless of how woefully unprepared for that he is.

Indeed: McGillis is delusional and Tekkadan is mostly made up of children with no idea how the world works beyond the horrors they have survived. He has the task of saving them all or the most he can. Obviously he’s the only one who can see the kind of mess they’ll make if left to their own devices. But that’s fine, between himself and Merribit he’s almost certain they can make up for the lack of common sense of everyone else.

Most of all, what he cannot believe is that he’s turned out to be the sensible, reasonable one from among his childhood friends.

★

Spurred by such terrible thoughts, Gaelio find himself once again hunting down Orga Itsuka with the single-mindedness that probably runs in the veins of all children of the Seven Stars Families, much to their detriment. At least it’s being put to good use in this case. Probably.

Orga Itsuka looks warily at him; not like he did at the beginning, or the first time Gaelio cornered demanding a truce, but more as if he knows that he’s not going to like whatever Gaelio has to say but it is nonetheless in his best interests to listen. Merribit, thank all the stars, is also there, holding Orga’s arm like that will prevent him from escaping their clutches.

Like before, Gaelio explains his reasons to Orga Itsuka mostly because he has to make him understand in order for him to give Gaelio permission to assign himself another near-suicidal, but necessary, mission.

Because Rustal Elion is an opponent so far above the wight class of the child soldiers that he would swallow them whole and they’d only notice when they started being digested; that’s the kind of monster that man is, every inch the Head of on the Seven Star Families.

“Rustal Elion will never be your friend, he won’t even be your ally, but if he thinks he can use you to get close to his goal, he’ll do it.”

That man would use someone until he couldn’t wring a single drop of blood more, and then he’d use them to pave his way to the goal he holds dearest above all, that he intends to reach even if it meant betraying and abandoning his own family and subordinates.

“He doesn’t want to be a footnote, he doesn’t want to be just another name in a branch of his family tree; he wants entire chapters in history books to be dedicated to him, he wants to leave a mark.”

Ruthless Elion. Back in the Academy, all the students used to jokingly call him that, in hushed voices. And none of them knew a thing, none of them could have imagined how true that nickname was.

“So offer him that,” Gaelio says, to a wide-eyed Orga. “And give him whatever he asks for when he doesn’t believe you capable of giving him that, because having him as a lukewarm ally will be leagues better than letting him Tekkadan could stand in his way, or, worse, could be used as a stepping stone.”

★

Gaelio bites the inside of his cheek, debating his next betrayal, but merely as a formality. As much as he loves McGillis as a brother, as the best friend he believed him to be, as the man whose ideals he will follow, whose side he will take in the war he’s so hellbent on starting—Gaelio’s heart already has a clear owner.

And if that owner also has a clear owner, then the hierarchy is clear.

Gaelio opens his mouth and spits out the words, half warning, half plea:

“Take it from someone who knows, Orga Itsuka—McGillis has no idea what he’s doing.”

(He doesn’t understand how the real world works, he doesn’t say. In spite of having already been exposed to the worst of it, he definitely will never say.)

★

Orga wavers at that, maybe because it should sound like nothing but lies, maybe because the honesty in Gaelio’s voice feels as though it had to be extracted with hooks and pliers, but he finally concedes.

Gaelio is granted permission to present their case before their enemy, to go into the wolf’s den and offer it a meal in hopes it will choose to ally itself with them.

Mikazuki had made a deal with the devil for their sake. Gaelio would be remiss if he did anything less.

Still, Mikazuki’s devil is made of metal and asked for nothing but flesh; Gaelio’s is flesh and blood and human all over and he doesn’t know yet what he will be asked to give.

But he will give it, if it is in his hands to do so, if that means that Tekkadan, this court of children that Mikazuki would kill and bleed for, can be saved.

Can be safe.

★

Gaelio is not Tekkadan’s, in spite of everything that has happened, he still believes this. Tekkadan, however, is Gaelio’s. Such are the fangs of his upbringing, finally showing.

It is only right, then, that such fangs and claws are put to use in safeguarding what is his.

He prepares for his arranged meeting with Rustal Elion with a fastidiousness that he remember afflicted his mother when she prepared Almiria for her engagement party with McGillis. He was sent appropriate clothing for the occasion, and McGillis even lent him one of his most trusted aides, aware that this would be akin to an opening move in this war he still expected, who had trimmed Gaelio’s hair and once again caked his face in makeup—although, granted, of much higher quality than the one he had previously used to hide his scars.

Gaelio looks at the full-length mirror McGillis’ aide had brought with him, and inspects his perfectly-tailored armor, the subtlety of his war paint, squares his shoulders and goes off to bargain with the devil.

★

Gaelio has already played the zealot before Rustal Elion, it should hardly be a difficult thing to play such role again. If the object of his zealotry has shifted just enough to align with Elion's own interest, no doubt twisted by the very real flaws of the organization he was, oh, so willing to worship before, and how it had only proven to fall short of his expectations after his, oh, so harrowing experiences while undercover—well, people are always willing to see what they want to see. Gaelio won't be even lying, really.

(There was worship of course, as there were expectations, given how he was brought up, his family, his everything, and all those things lie in a heap of bullshit, now that Gaelio has peeked behind the curtain and found the wizened old husk of their ideals, rotting like a corpse left in a basement.)

★

Rustal Elion receives Gaelio personally and escorts him to a chamber in one of his ships so opulent it could be displayed as a piece on a museum dedicated to the influence of the Château de Versailles.

“Please sit, Lord Bauduin. We will have refreshments brought to us in a minute, but I believe you’d prefer some privacy for our discussion.”

“Of course, my thanks for your consideration, Lord Elion,” Gaelio makes a show of bowing his head just a smidgen more than strictly necessary, placing himself squarely beneath his host. “It is an extremely sensitive matter what I wished to discuss with you, although perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I wished to plead my case before you, as someone who as of right now could be considered the head of the Seven Stars families.”

Rustal Elion takes a set before him and laces his fingers together with a placid smile, the very picture of an understanding, doting superior willing to lend an ear to a troubled youth.

“Please speak freely, Lord Bauduin. I am aware of your complicated situation, after all and would happily lend a helping hand should you need it.”

“It is indeed a complicated situation,” Gaelio agrees, demurely. “And I’m afraid that I have only complicated it further during my time… in this mission, in a manner unbefitting of the heir of one of the Seven Stars. Which is why I must beg your assistance, Lord Elion, as I’ve heard you have a vested interest in the standing of Mars and all its citizens.”

This is a fib, and not even a very good one, since all of Gjallarhorn could be said to have such ‘vested interest’, but only for the worse. However, Rustal Elion’s eyes shine with the intensity of a predator smelling blood and he opens his hands in a welcoming, soothing gesture, a friend in Gaelio’s hour of need willing to hear him out, even if the last time they spoke Gaelio had all but called all of Mars the dregs of humanity.

“Of course, Lord Bauduin! Such humanitarian causes are one of the many duties of our station, and your first-hand experience has no doubt granted you a valuable insight of the plights the so-called human debris must endure,” he says, panegyrizing to the point of artifice. “You can rest assured that I will not pass judgment on you, rather, I believe you should be praised for having learned from this experience.”

Gaelio tries not to wince and cannot be sure if he succeeded. He thinks of the many ways he could spin a tale for Rustal Elion to bait him into action, to present the choice of allying himself with—not Tekkadan, certainly not, but the heads of two of the Seven Stars, Six, now that the Issue family has lost its successor. That would give him the support of half the families, not counting his own, an absolute, undeniable majority. It takes him perhaps half a second to realize that, if Rustal Elion deems him untrustworthy, they will all be doomed and there would be no guarantee of him leaving this ship with his life.

Thus, Gaelio, who knows he’s making a gamble he can’t afford to lose, chooses to parade his one weakness in front of Rustal Elion.

“I intend to marry a human debris,” he says, with all the gravitas such declaration of war deserves. “I will not bring shame upon my family, so the laws will have to change. The world will have to change, to make a place for us.”

Gaelio will drag the entire world, kicking and screaming if need be, to the point where they all see at least a fraction of the brilliance he sees in Mikazuki.

“He will not be called a human debris when I marry him; he will be a person, with all the respect that entails. I won’t have the time to formally duel everyone who shows any disrespect otherwise. And I will formally duel everyone, anyone, the whole damn world, to have him.”

Even as the words leave his lips, he knows they are the truth and there’s no hiding that from the predator before him. Rustal Elion must be able to read some of his desperation in Gaelio’s face or voice, because the amiable business smile he had kept firmly affixed on his face finally changed to something realer and hungrier.

“If you can grant me that, Lord Elion,” Gaelio says, with the fervor of the devout. “I promise you will have the support of the Bauduin family in all of your endeavors, as well as my personal cooperation, in whichever manner you see fit to use. I cannot speak for my good friend McGillis, but I have it on good authority that he would me more than amenable to join hands in pursuit of a worthy goal.”

Rustal Elion abandons all pretense of humility, throws his head back and laughs.

“Why! You flatter this old man, Lord Bauduin,” his smile only grows, even as his eyes do his best to dissect Gaelio where he stands. “Should I take this to mean that the Bauduin and Fareed families would support me, either in improving or restructuring Gjallahorn?”

Gaelio’s smile is one that would be at home in a family picture of a perfect day in the park, a charming young man adored by the world, with the rest of his life before him.

“The times have changed, Lord Elion. If the rest of the Heads would rather cling to the stories of old and bury their heads in the sand, we who know better are aware that this means we should change as well. Lord Kujan, for all his brashness, has made it no secret that you are willing to spearhead such changes. Please, do consider our proposal. We have high hopes for a mutually beneficial relationship.”

Gaelio stands up and bends in a perfectly respectful bow, before being escorted to the docks by one of Rustal Elion’s aides. Every step he takes before arriving to his ship, feels like ice cracking below him. It is only until he is on his way back that he allows himself to curl up into a tiny ball and hyperventilate, uncaring of which child has to see one of his breakdowns; by now it is practically a rite of passage.

(For who, he’s not quite sure.)

★

Mikazuki Bauduin.

It is a meagre offering; in another life such statement would be insulting, but in this one Gaelio knows better. He would much rather take Mikazuki’s last name. Gaelio Augus. He would have twice the ‘g’s that Mikazuki treasures for the connection it represents to Orga Itsuka. Gaelio Bauduin, with all the protection the name represents, with all the considerations both political and otherwise that he would be able to give Mikazuki, would be taking that away.

Bauduin.

The name of a ghost, since the scion of the Bauduin might as well be dead, for all that life has changed him.

But he has nothing else to give. Not even his clothes are his own.

Mikazuki Bauduin.

It should make him happy, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow to find out it doesn’t.

Perhaps, once McGillis is done wrecking havoc among the Seven Star Families, once Kudelia is done with her humanitarian work, once Tekkadan doesn’t have any reason to be other than the bonds they have and the moniker of ‘human debris’ is relegated to the gutter where it belongs, once Rustal Elion is done scribbling his name in history books for the sake of the legacy he so dreams of leaving, regardless of whether he has to write it down in ink or blood—perhaps then he will be allowed to be Gaelio Augus, with no need for consorts to ensure an heir, with no obligations to fulfill but those to his own heart.

He hopes Mikazuki is willing to wait for him.

God, he hopes they all are.

★

Ah, but Gaelio is wrong, after all.

This, although not a surprise, for once comes as a relief.

Here it is, something that he has, that is his, that he has been given: strips of pale blue leather, carefully woven and decorated with an iron charm. Tangible proof of the existence of life after death.

And this, too: he promised Mikazuki his own green-house, and he intends to keep that promise, honoring with the gravity of wedding vows and knightly oaths. He thinks of Mikazuki, surrounded by greenery, of Miss Atra’s laughter and Kudelia’s earnestness, and he thinks that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for a future in which he can have all of that.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Notes: Haha, it’s been so long I legit had to open up a bunch of wiki pages to look up some stuff. ヾ(￣▽￣)

But everything I was too lazy to look up I made up, yay!

I feel like I like this chapter, but I can't honestly tell anymore; I just wanted to get this out, like, pls just let me finish this damn chapter, I promise I will fix it all pretty when I finally post it on AO3—so here it is! I hope it was worth the wait, and as always thank you to everyone who still reads this thing ヾ(•ω•`)o

The fix-it is really heavy in this one and it will only grow stronger, so please forgive my sins keep that in mind. I’m scrubbing everything that goes wrong in the second season off the face of the planet with these last chapters.

(Augh, I don’t want to write Rustal Elion again, why must I suffer for my craft (；′⌒`))

Also, it's really been a year, right? Darn. Happy winter holidays (again) and happy new year (again), keep taking care of yourselves and eat something tasty and maybe pet a cat!

#ibo constellation #gundam ibo #gaelio bauduin #mikazuki augus #the sheep writes #shameless fix-fic #just one more chapter guys!!!

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aether-the-bakugannie · 6 months ago

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Headcanons of how Magnus, Aay, Riot and Kurin text and use the internet.

Note: These are set after legends so each character is 2 years older than their canon age in bp. Not that it matters but I just wanted to clarify because I called Riot eight and Kurin fourteen.

Also they ALL have + use discord. (Magnus a little less than the others but still.)

Magnus.

All lowercase except when it's a proper noun.

A small amount of punctuation.

He's either online at the most random unexpected times or never online.

Replies to messages at his own discretion, if he doesn't feel like replying, he won't.

He has every social media but he only uses them to investigate people for his detective stuff.

He doesn't understand most acronyms or abbreviations.

He knows nothing about Internet culture or memes.

He was only ever taught the basics of spelling and grammar, he taught himself as much as he could by reading but there's certain words he just CANNOT spell and has to either google how to spell them or use voice type.

Never uses emojis and very rarely uses emoticons.

Ignores all previous messages in the chat, sends a new one on an unrelated topic that's more important to him.

Curses quite often although he attempts to tone it down if he thinks anyone too much younger will see.

Aay.

All lowercase unless he hits the caps lock button.

No punctuation at all.

A lot of words are spelled incorrectly, partially due to dyslexia, partially due to him not paying attention to what he's pressing on the keyboard.

He uses text speech like you = u and why = y.

Almost always online.

Usually replies extremely quickly.

Probably on Tumblr, Instagram and Twitter and uses them all regularly.

He knows the majority of memes and understands internet culture.

Sends people memes and posts he thinks they'll like.

He knows brainrot. He talks about the skibidi toilet just to annoy the others.

He uses emojis sometimes

Interrupts conversations to turn a previously sent message into a joke.

He curses sometimes but not often.

Old memes. He uses old memes. He will put a doge meme in the chat. Among us memes unironically.

Riot.

Mostly lowercase but uses caps lock often too and capitalizes proper nonus.

She uses punctuation mostly properly but she never finishes off the final sentence in her messages with a full stop.

She tends to add extra letters into words (eg. heyyyyyyyy instead of hey) and uses multiple question and exclamation marks.

Acronyms and abbreviations are her best friend.

Always online.

Replies quickly.

On Instagram, Twitter and Tiktok, she uses them all regularly but mostly to troll people.

She definitely sends fairy comments to piss people off.

She is from the brainrot generation but HATES it and thinks it's stupid.

Uses emojis, emoticons and kaomojis often, mostly emojis though.

She likes some memes but also thinks others are really stupid.

She curses more than any other eight year old you've ever met.

Monster high aesthetic pfps.

Kurin.

He switches between all lowercase and proper capitalization at random. He'll use caps lock for emphasis.

He uses punctuation properly sometimes but generally uses internet punctuation.

He uses acronyms and abbreviations a normal amount.

He's usually online but sometimes goes offline for a random amount of time without an explanation. Usually because he fell asleep, went off to practice music or his phone died.

His replies are either quick or four hours late.

He's on Instagram, Twitter, Tiktok, Tumblr and posts videos on YouTube, mostly of him covering songs.

He likes memes but prefers Tumblr humour.

He prefers emoticons to emojis but he does use emojis too.

He has a ton of reaction images saved which he uses stupidly often.

He curses a regular amount. Maybe a little more than regular but he's 14 so that's normal.

He knows very little about brainrot, he'll recognize the skibidi toilet but he doesn't know the lore and he doesn't want to.

Sends among us memes but solely to piss people off.

If anything said reminds him of a musical lyric, he will just start sending lyrics to the chat.

#bakugan #bakugan battle planet #bakugan armored alliance #bakugan geogan rising #bakugan evolutions #bakugan legends #bakugan gen 2 #kurin bakugan #magnus black #china riot #riot bakugan #aay bakugan #these are mostly notes for my chatfic writing purposes #but since they double as headcanons I thought it'd make a fun Tumblr post

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starmapz · 8 months ago

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Your writing is amazing. I'm in love with the college! sukuna series you're working on! Can I ask how you got into writing/how your writing process goes? I really wanna get into writing but I struggle with outlining plots and just like to write and make up the story as it comes to my mind 😭🫶🏽

hiiiii love!! this is so sweet thank you sm <33 i'm so glad to hear you're loving college!kuna because i'm loving writing for it 🥹

you are absolutely more than welcome to ask! so i've been writing for about 12 years now but haven't published anything until recently but i've always enjoyed it. i don't think i ever finished any of my pieces until recently either bc i struggled with outlines and completing things.

i think what helped me the most personally to get past that blockade is that i got into writing for jjk specifically around the same time as a close friend got into writing for another fandom so we beta one another's work and bounce ideas past each other as well, bless her

as for my process itself, i think i actually have a fairly messy process tbh? most of my inspiration comes from music but the majority of fleshing out those ideas comes from the fact that i daydream more than the average person probably should LOL. my mind is just constantly writing the next scene.

i also physically can't write scenes in advance bc if i do i won't write the scenes i'm less inspired for that come before what i've already gotten down, so i write in the order that you all are reading it. i do have notes/planning docs with basic outlines of what i'd like in each chapter but it's genuinely just the word vomit i've sent to my beta reader. it's messy and totally not concrete and i don't stick by it if i feel what i've got planned isn't/won't work.

another thing that i find works well for me is that i actually really enjoy the editing process so if i'm not fully happy with a scene but i'm having a bit of a block, i'll move along if it's at least complete enough to call it 'done', then go back during editing once i've had some time to think it over. i know a lot of people don't like editing, so this may not work for everyone, but taking a step back and thinking things over can always be a good strategy.

my best pieces of advice would be these: - just start writing and see what happens, bc honestly even my work from like 8 months ago or so when i first started this blog i sometimes read again and i can see my improvement and it makes me proud of where i've come from. - if you have an idea, even if it's the middle of the night, open your phone and jot down a note. it's saved so many of my ideas from disappearing into nothing. - read lots! i think the fact that i read a lot of fics alongside writing them has helped me improve as well, bc i try to learn new words/styles from other writers. i find my older writing used to be a lot more rigid, like i wasn't willing to use capitals or multiple exclamation marks to signify yelling, but at the end of the day i realized i like when others do that, so why shouldn't i? i enjoy more casual prose as it feels more realistic at times, so i've adapted that into my writing as well. by knowing what you like to read, you can figure out more how you like to write. - lastly, don't overthink things! remember, if you enjoy what you wrote, others will too. write for yourself and do what you love :)

tysm for all the love, i hope this helps even a little bit <33 sorry for the word vomit LOL and i hope you have a great day/night bb!

#trish answers #moonchhu

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thgfanfictionlibrary · 1 year ago

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Active Authors Masterlist (8)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 /

***Active (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer who has updated within the past year. Inactive (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer that has not been updated at all in the past year+. On THG Writing Hiatus (on this blog) is a blog/writer who has updated within the past year but has not posted a fanfic in the fandom in the past year BUT they may return to writing in the future. Lists will be updated as needed based on activity. ***

Created: December 27th, 2023

Last Checked:-----

adler_orzel :: ao3, Wattpad, tumblr

Popular Fic: The flowers on my chest: Legend says that once upon a time. "Eternal loves" were called "soul mates". For they are loves older than memory, that have lived a thousand lives and, in their blessing and wonder, caused empires to fall, death and sorrow. So, in order not to forget the power they have. They get separated and must seek one another until, by touching and calling each other's name, flowers grow in their chests. The marks of Eternal Love are rare enough to be seen only once or twice in a generation, and Katniss couldn't care less about the fairy tales her father used to tell her before bedtime. But for Peeta...The floral marks were reality, pain, and magic for Peeta. And Haymitch knows it.That's why anger consumes her when she sees how easily her mentor lies when he tells everyone that Peeta had one before the capitol took him away. (@adlerorzel-blog)

everlarkism-ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: You Came Home A deeper look into Peeta and Katniss’ life after the rebellion where they grow back together and start a family of their own as District 12 prospers again.

folkookie97 :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: too cold: Katniss walks in on Peeta showering.

FyreFlys :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: Swan Upon Leda: Katniss regrets that night 4 months ago during the victory tour, even if she doesn’t entirely wish it never happened. This part, however- the one where she’s being forced back into a death arena while four months pregnant- would be so much easier if it had never happened. Peeta isn’t supposed to know. So why is he telling Caesar, and all of Panem, on national television? OR: the fic where Everlark aren’t together yet, Katniss is pregnant during the Quarter Quell, Peeta isn’t supposed to know but then figures it out, Peeta never gets taken by the Capital and hijacked, and they try to live their “happily ever after”.

goldspaypaint :: ao3

Popular Fic: What we do in the night: A collection of night time activities that Katniss and Peeta share. Chapter 1: On the train Chapter 2: The night before the intervjus Chapter 3: After the first time they talk in 13 Chapter 4: After the lunch scene in 13 Chapter 5: After Katniss see Peeta training Chapter 6: The night Peeta joins the star squad Chapter 7: In Tigris basement Chapter 8: Reconnection in 12

HEA_andallthelike :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: I’ll Teach You How: "Oh my God," he grins a little too devilishly and I wrinkle my nose at him. I'm not sure what's going on in his mind, but he looks WAY to happy. "Katniss," he whispers, "please let me show you. There is just too much to teach you."

imasradiantasthesun-ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: Holding Bright Madge knows she is doomed to follow in her aunt Maysilee's footsteps. She does everything in her power to prepare herself to avoid suffering the same fate, including enlisting her best friend Katniss in helping her train. So when her name is called during the 74th Reaping Ceremony, Madge is as ready as she can be. She takes the route to the stage that avoids her father, she steels her features just as practiced, she drowns out Effie Trinket’s exclamation of her fellow tribute’s name. Madge is prepared, and being prepared means being as detached as possible. What Madge hadn’t prepared for was the low voice of the boy who hates her most to ring out through the square, desperate to volunteer in his younger brother’s stead. Because of fucking course Madge has to go into the arena alongside Gale Hawthorne. She really should have seen this coming. (@imasradiantasthesun)

jeanvaljeanralphio/anniecrestaodairs-ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: Annie’s Games Annie Cresta has spent her entire life dreading the annual reaping— the random drawing of names that determines which 24 kids throughout the country are sent to the Capitol to fight each other to the death in the Hunger Games. Finnick Odair won the Hunger Games five years ago, and his life since has been anything but the peace and glory promised to Victors. When Annie’s only friend is drawn this year, she has no choice but to volunteer to take her place. Thrown together as mentor and tribute, Finnick and Annie both find themselves drawn into a much deadlier game than either of them could have anticipated….

MadlyMadeleine-ao3, ff.net, tumblr

Popular Fic: vengeance in my heart, death in my hand Katniss Everdeen dies in the arena of the 74th Hunger Games, nightlock in her mouth. Madge Undersee, grief-stricken and fueled by the thirst for vengeance, emerges with fury in the wake of Katniss's death. Determined to avenge her fallen lover and finish what was started, Madge takes up the mantle of the Mockingjay, vowing to tear the Capitol down. (@madlymadeleine)

mswyrr :: ao3, ff.net, tumblr

Popular Fic: The Devil is a Friend of Mine: Katniss doesn’t approve of District 13′s treatment plan.

#authors #active authors masterlist #active authors #everlark fanfiction #thg fanfiction #everlark #masterlist #thg

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oceanwithouthermoon · 2 years ago

Text

ok putting my saiki k pony ideas here, mostly so i can maybe draw them someday, but also i put so much thought into these ideas and i want everyone to see them

tried to do EVERY character

kusuo- alicorn, no cutie mark

hides his wings under clothes and pretends he doesnt have them, would rather hide his horn but cant and just pretends he doesnt have much magic instead

why does he not have a cutie mark, you may ask?? because he hasnt accepted his quirks+powers as a part of himself.. his special talent is probably helping people but he thinks he only does that because the magic he has makes him basically obligated (its not true ur just a good person!!)

nobody really calls him out on constantly wearing clothes with so much coverage because they think hes just insecure about being a blank flank so late in life (kinda true, but it defeats the point if everyone KNOWS..)

will he ever get his cutie mark?? um.. i dont know.. maybe ?? definitely not in his high school years

chiyo- unicorn, baking cutie mark but idk what specifically, maybe a heart shaped chocolate like the one she made for kaido

specialty magic for tracking, she was a late bloomer with her cutie mark because she discovered her tracking talent really young and thought that had to do with her special talent for a longgg time

shun- pegasus, black feathers cutie mark

underdeveloped wings (like scootaloo obvi)

convinced hes just a late bloomer but hes almost an adult and still cant fly (never will but he doesnt know that)

gets these cool wing extensions that allow him to glide but still not fly

tells people his cutie mark is his "jet black wings" but its actually writing quills

riki- earth pony, heart shaped ramen bowl cutie mark ?? idfk what his special talent is i just think he has a lotta love in him..

HUGE stallion.. HUGE..

aren- a kirin..

has a huge scar where a cutie mark would be on a pony in the shape of an exclamation point

used to let his anger free when he was a delinquent and when he transferred, he was pretty self deprecating about his control of himself but he actually has a crazy amount of self control..

chisato- pegasus, hammer cutie mark maybe ?

almost made her an earth pony cuz of the brute strength thing but i like this better

got her cutie mark REALLY late because she was absolutely convinced her special talent had to do with food, and when she got it while doing a job she was like "WORKING IS MY SPECIAL TALENT??" but it wasnt about the job, shes just really strong, hardworking, and adaptable

kokomi- zebra, golden heart cutie mark

couldnt decide if she was a crystal pony or a zebra, decided on zebra

her mark LITERALLY seems to glow golden light, it doesnt actually but.. it really seems that way

ik her being a zebra may not sound like it makes sense because zecora got a bunch of NEGATIVE attention, but HEAR me out okok.. this pony au would be in a modern setting with more diversity and people would focus less on her being a zebra and more on her being beautiful and having such a unique pattern..

zecora is the only zebra we see in mlp so theres no reason to think other zebras couldnt have blue hair, esp in the era of saikis mind control (idk how that would tie into this universe cuz ponies already have crazy colors but shhh) so her hair is prob blue with dark and light stripey highlights

mikoto- griffon

ik she might make more sense as a unicorn but her fortune telling strikes me as more of an.. outside magic ?? like.. she was born with the ability, but its not a physical magical power, its like pinkies pinkie sense!!

so yea i like her as a griffon, its unique and i like the idea of her feathers having a unique pattern around her eyes thats akin to gyaru makeup (see: gilda but make it gyaru esque)

and yes she can still be colorful, we see colorful griffons in the late seasons of mlp

metori- a crystal pony, diamond ring cutie mark

tells people thats his cutie mark because its expensive and hes rich as hell but his special talent is actually MAKING jewelry..

i like the idea of him lying about his special talent so i had to think of something that he could say its cuz hes rich.. i kinda wanted his talent to be baking for some reason but i couldnt think of how that would work

reita- earth pony, cutie mark is like a cartoon-like ghost surrounded by a scary purple and black aura

was gonna make his mark something more meaningful but i think its funny if people see it and are immediately scared of him but literally all it means is like he SPEAKS to ghosts, like in the most normal way possible

and same thing as miko, he doesnt need to be a unicorn cuz his powers are different from unicorn magic..

touma- unicorn, magnifying glass over a thought bubble cutie mark

the mark is hard to explain but tell me u get me when i say its because hes got stupidly good detective skills and can tell what people are thinking

jokes around and manages to convince people he has crazy magic and his cutie mark actually means he can read minds but he actually isnt very good at unicorn magic at all

kineshi- is a changeling..

why ?? because he just is!! doesnt it make sense for him to be a creature that feeds off of making other people feel happiness and love ? it totally makes sense

honorable mentions 😛

saikis parents are both earth ponies, and i have no idea what their cutie marks would be but heres some silly ideas: kurumi has a cradle cutie mark (meant to be a mama😋) and kuniharu has a boot and he tells people that it's symbolism for like hard work but people know hes lying and think it means hes a boot licker METAPHORICALLY, which is almost right but.. it means literally

kusuke is an earth pony and his telepathy canceler is probably shaped like a unicorn horn in this universe hehe, and his cutie mark is maybe like a microscope or something ? hes just a mad scientist idk

btw chono in this au would def be like trixie lulamoon if u know what im saying.. he would be a unicorn but his special talent is STAGE magic and his horn doesnt do anything☠️

satou prob has that little hourglass cutie mark thats really common in background characters for animation purposes, idk what his special talent is but that would be really funny

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merthwyn · 2 years ago

Text

People probably wonder why I don't quit since I'm fed up with my current job environment. Well, I've been searching for job for 7 months now. And I've found quite many that I could apply for and I'm sure they would choose me. But I still don't. The current job and the interviews I had for other jobs opened my eyes so now I'm extra careful and suspicious when I read a job advertisement as it is easier for me to spot the hidden red flags. For example:

Do they brag about how like a warm family or an amazing team they are? STAY AWAY. You will certainly be the black sheep of that family or being expected to be the doormat of the team

Do they brag about equality, respect, diversity? STAY AWAY. You will probably experience the worst amount of disrespect, inequality and favouritism you've ever experienced.

Are they trying to "seduce" you with promises of opportunities, training, development? STAY AWAY. You will end up doing the same things forever while others less capable are getting promoted because they are the bosse's friends or simply narcissists.

Too much enthusiasm in the job advertisement with many exclamation marks and excitement? STAY AWAY. You will soon find out that the job you applied is the most boring and abusive thing you've ever seen.

Only saying things like "amazing holiday scheme" or just "holiday entitlement" instead of mentioning exactly the actual amount of holiday allowance? STAY AWAY. Otherwise, you will get like 20 days of holiday and you will have to fight to manage to get them approved.

If they mention e.g.28 days of holiday ALWAYS CLARIFY whether it's actual 28 days or just 20 + bank holidays. If it's the second, STAY AWAY. You may be ok with this (I would be ok if I liked the job environment) but they should have clarified this in the job advertisement. Who knows what other maybe more important things they are hiding..

Never go somewhere where the salary is not mentioned. If you find advertisements saying "competitive salary" or "salary negotiable" STAY AWAY otherwise you'll be lucky if you get minimum wage.

Always check their website and read their policies. If it's too much about equality or whistleblowing STAY AWAY. You will probably get bullied for refusing to use pronouns or for being a Christian and this whistleblowing will never protect you from the bullies. You will not be allowed to wear a cross but your Muslim coworkers will have breaks for prayer. And if their bullying doesn't work, you will end up falsely accused of theft or rape.

If it's an entry level or apprenticeship compare the salary they give with the amount of work you will be expected to do and the experience they ask. I've found dozens of APPRENTICESHIPS out there which want you to have loads of certificates and qualifications and do the job of a fully experienced person with half the minimum wage and with the prerequisite of having 3 years experience.

I'm sure there are more things to add. For me, it's all the above PLUS those which they don't come to mind right now PLUS the fact that I want a Mon-Fri day job. Because, imagine if you end up working with bullies and have to sacrifice evenings, weekends, Christmas and time with friends and family for them, as it happens with my current job.

When you truly value respect, discipline, accountability, responsibility, honesty, team work, equality, development, work-life balance and generally moral values, it's damn hard to find a job.....

#workplace bullying #job applications #job hunting #jobs #employment #job market #interview #salary #career #jobseekers #moral values #equality #respect #team work

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fatalism-and-villainy · 1 year ago

Text

Okay, further rumination on the topic of ao3 comments and why they’re a less-than-satisfactory form of communication for me, because I have been rotating this topic in my mind and it is now smooth as a river stone (thanks @Hannibal watch buddy for that turn of phrase) -

I think part of what feels so foreign to me about ao3 comments is that I’ve just… very rarely felt the urge to talk to an author of a work of fiction that I’ve enjoyed. It’s not a natural impulse for me. When I have felt that urge, it’s usually been in response to theory and other such academic nonfiction, because part of the point of that stuff is to open a conversation. It’s a foundation that invites others to build upon it, in a way that includes the author. Fictional texts are also always open to more criticism, and when they’re really good they’re like a constant ever-expanding interpretive universe unto themselves. But with fiction, the author isn’t a part of that interpretive process, and in fact it’s detrimental for them to be.

So when I’m compelled to write up a reaction to a piece of media, it’s usually not an “author-friendly” form of engagement - either because it’s critical in some way (and it’s very rare that I have absolutely no quibbles with any piece of media, even if I like it and agree with what it’s doing interpretatively), or because it’s authoritative in such a way as to be overbearing and presumptuous when presented to the author themself. Or, to explain that second point more - most analytical points I might make would come together to form a “reading”, a claim on my part as to what a story is doing. And that doesn’t seem appropriate to me in author-reader interaction. So I often feel stifled when trying to share my thoughts on a story, particularly in a formal commenting context.

Another option for interaction with authors would be asking authors what their interpretation is, or what they were trying to get across, or whether they intended to evoke what I took away from the story. But the problem with that is that those feel more suited to a work that is still in progress, and ao3 isn’t a writers’ workshop. The fics are either already finished, or they’re ongoing, but readers aren’t a part of that writing and editing process.

And the other thing is that I’m just… very uncomfortable with intense displays of emotion. Even if I loved a story and was powerfully moved by it, it’s very difficult for me to express that enthusiasm in text form - it feels affected and stilted and unnatural. (And I also get uncomfortable seeing others’ unbridled enthusiasm in ao3 comments, when it’s presented in the form of “squeeing” - you know, with a lot of exclamation marks or keyboard smashes and whatnot. There’s nothing wrong with form of self-expression, but it’s not my thing and it’s not a cultural aspect of the site that I feel comfortable engaging in.)

So, my question to myself is: when and in what way does it feel natural to me to engage with fic writers on ao3 via comments, or to have readers engage with my fic?

And the answer to that, I think, is indicative of how academia shapes my approach to fandom. Because given the adaptational quality of fanfic, and the fact that it’s arising from shared contextual knowledge of the source material, my instinct and what I’m most comfortable with is to take the conference approach, and use the specific fic I’m reading or that I’ve written as a starting point to discuss the canon itself. And while some ao3 comment exchanges are centered on discussing and coming to a richer understanding of the source material, it’s far from guaranteed.

And on top of that, the comment culture on ao3 doesn’t have a lot of back-and-forth, or space or invitation to expand on your thoughts or build off each other. There’s no room for discussion to evolve. Everything you want to say has to be contained in one single comment - so if you don’t already know the author, it’s hard to gauge what kind of discussion they would even be open to. So frankly, I feel that the culture there incentivizes bland, form-letter comments and shallow discussion.

I feel a lot of these points from the author side of things, too. Sometimes I’ll get comments where people are interpreting or emotionally responding to my stories in a manner pretty distinct from my intention - and that’s inevitable! That’s what fiction does! Everybody takes away something different, and stories gain new life when they’re liberated from their creators’ meddling. But it makes me faintly uncomfortable, because I just… don’t know what to do with comments like that. It feels against my principles to correct people about their interpretation of fiction, because of, well, pretty much the entire ideology re: fiction and interpretation that I’ve laid out here. It’s different from meta, where it feels not only appropriate but the entire point of the format to engage with people’s interpretations of what you’re saying, and to say, “I actually interpret that differently” or “that’s not quite what I meant there”. But with fic… if I can’t discuss my own ideas and interpretations, as the author, I’d honestly rather not know what people think and feel. Or at least, I’d be open to a conversation about that, between fellow fans who are using my fic as a starting off point for discussion about the source material. But I’d much rather do that on discord, or some other platform that feels like it engenders actual conversations, rather than the one-two punch of “[compliment][gratitude]”.

And honestly, the reason I started writing fic at all, back in 2020, was because I wanted to retreat into my own world. I was weary of meta, and having to explain and justify my responses to the text. I still love meta, and it’s still the primary point of doing fandom at all for me. But sometimes, I do need a break from that, and need to be able to ensconce myself in my feelings about the text in a format that people can’t as easily poke holes in. So that’s partly why I’m considering turning off comments on ao3, at least just as an experiment, and having conversations about my fic on other platforms.

That, and perhaps I just need to start posting more meta to ao3. :)

#fandom natterings #my meta #queue

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pinkberrytea · 10 months ago

Note

for mav! 1, 4, 9, 14, 24!

Ty ty for the ask friend! 😙🙏❣️

From this post!

1. What would your Tav’s greetings be (at different levels of approval)?

Previously answered here!

Negative

“Hm… hm…” “Hm, yes?” “Er…”

Neutral

“Oh, hello.” “Hm? Oh, I’m sorry, did you need something?” “Yes? How can I help?”

Medium

“Oh, you’re here!” “Oh! Is there anything I can do for you?” “Hey, you!”

Flirting

“Hm? Oh! Oh… h-hi!” “You’re here! I-I mean, what can I do for you?” “H-hello! Wait, does my face look weird? Ugh, please don’t stare!” “I was just thinking of you! O-oh, I’m sorry, did I say that out loud?”

Partnered

“Yes, love? Whatever it is you need of me, I’m yours.” “Oh, my love, just gazing upon you makes my chest feel so tight…” “Is such happiness really possible? Sometimes it doesn't feel real...” “Oh, darling…”

Bhaal’s Chosen

“This body is but a vessel. Words are useless.”

Broken up

“Oh, uh… hi.” “Please... please don't.”

4. What would your Tav’s romance scenes look like? How many would they have?

Oh, this is a fun one! I’m guessing Mav would have three romance scenes, one for each Act:

Act 1

Once the player raises her approval enough, a dialogue option will become available when speaking to Mav, something along the lines of “Careful there… a less charitable soul might mistake your overfamiliarity for flirting.” She would blush in response, and ask if it bothers the player that she’s been trying to get closer to them. If the player replies it doesn’t, then she’ll ask them to meet her later, and the next long rest, she’ll have an exclamation mark over her head. Upon speaking to her, the scene will trigger: she will take the player to a secluded place in the forest, where they can take a walk and talk in private. After some light banter, she’ll start by saying that from the moment she left the Nautiloid, she’s been stuck in a living nightmare, and everything terrifies her, most of all herself—this darkness within her that she still knows not the source of, and her past, a shadow looming threateningly over her. “But with you… I feel safe. Safe from myself.” The player is then prompted to choose whether to say they’re scared of her too, kiss her, or pick up a flower and tuck it behind her ear. The first option ends the scene (and the romance—bby gurl is hurt 😔); the second initiates some soft lovemaking in a field of flowers; and the third gets the player +15 approval with her after she gives them the sweetest little giggle and a peck on the cheek (the player may initiate lovemaking with her here as well by asking if she’d be okay with it).

Act 2

Since she’s Durge, Mav’s Act 2 romance scene would have to be tied to Durge’s Act 2 resist scene. It wouldn’t be that different from the original, except the player would witness the scene from the perspective of the love interest being woken up—they’d have to pass a persuasion check to get her to admit what Sceleritas has told her (if they don’t, rather than murdering them she’ll run away and spend the night by herself, and in the morning, end the romance while claiming she doesn’t want to risk anything like this happening ever again). After hearing what she has to say, they’d then tie her up and stay by her side throughout the night, whispering words of comfort in her ears. Once the Urge leaves her, she’ll be incredibly thankful and ask the player if she can hug them—if they agree, they’ll become partnered with her!

Act 3

Mav’s Act 3 romance scene varies greatly depending on whether she has resisted the Urge or become Bhaal’s Chosen—in the latter case, she won’t be herself anymore, the real Mav will be dead. However, the Urge will allow the player to use her body if they so wish; if the player accepts, this will immediately trigger a scene where they engage in rough, bloody sex with her on top of the altar at the Bhaal Temple. By the end of it, they’ll have to pass a perception check to stop her from sticking Bloodthirst inside their chest.

If she has resisted, then instead she’ll be crying quietly at camp, and the player can offer to comfort her—they’ll then take a romantic bath together under the soft moonlight, during which the player helps Mav wash away all the dried blood while making sweet love to her. The morning after, she’ll thank them for trusting her, for seeing the good in her even through all the darkness. “You cared, even when I had already given up on myself. I’m yours, body, mind and soul. For however long you’ll have me, I’ll be there. This I promise.”

9. What’s the significance behind your Tav’s name?

Previously answered here!

Mav actually has two different names! Sol, the name given to her by her foster parents, means “sun” in Latin, so that’s a simple one. As for Mavka, her real name, it means “the dead” in Old Slavic. Mavkas are a type of nymph or female spirit in Ukrainian folklore, known for luring young men to their deaths, although their evil is not always intentional. I like the contrast between the two names, I think it encapsulates her duality well!

14. Where are they from? What was home like?

Mav is from Baldur's Gate, born and raised!

24. What does your Tav consider to be their own biggest character flaw?

Previously answered here!

Mav is painfully self-aware and knows full well that most of the time, she comes across as too clingy and gullible. Her thirst for connection also makes her rather prone to selfishness and hypocrisy; she’s willing to forsake her morals entirely for those she loves. In that same vein, she hates that she cannot just let herself be kind without associating any so-called selfless acts with her overwhelming need for acceptance.

#personal #asks

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idontknowreallywhy · 10 months ago

Note

🍄🤡💾

🍄 Describe your wip/one of your wips in the format of ____ + _____ = _______

“Small Enthusiastic Tracy + Uncle Virgil Getting Carried Away = Glitterpocalypse”

💾 What is your document of your wip/ a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

Hahaha “Final straight” - hilariously I titled it that when I thought the thing would be at least ten chapters less than it has turned out to be so I’ve been on that “Final Straight” since… um… May…

🤡 How many Wips are you actively working on?

Uhhhh *rubs back of neck* soooo it depends how you define “actively” but assuming we say it means I have at least half a plan for it and a decent chunk written (albeit not chronologically, let’s not kid ourselves here) … hmm lemme figure this out…

(Under the cut for rambling and links)

The big boys (2)

Resurface My Earth & Sky magnum opus (so so close to finishing this beastie now and I am so very proud of it)

Estera - my co-written mad sprawling razorfluff Scott-finds-a-friend-and-they-help-each-other-to-live universe… with parts for possibly two sequel fics which I may never use but I keep adding to them so… active… I’ll call it one WIP tho (at risk of @sofasurf locking me up because I keep trying to leap down plot rabbit holes). This one takes up a significant proportion of my brain in daily life, her back story, how that interweaves with Scott’s and their future story is vastly detailed now but will probably mostly not see the light of day. OC fics are never the best at getting engagement with people so I guess time would be better spent on others, maybe, but I’m inherently hopeless at writing the stuff I think I should be and so… yeah, I just love this story and how the two of them interact and the rest of the Tracys’ eyeview on it all (inc EOS, especially EOS) and I actually reread it a fair amount… your primary target audience is yourself, right?

Currently small but could easily get big:

Unnamed Wingman Ash story - so many notes and bits of prose and IDEAS. Constantly at the top of my “last updated” note files but other than posting some random snippets I haven’t actually worked out how to Start that one yet…

Octopus House - teeny adhd Scott at school

Red - the Alan & Havoc one

Shorter ones that should be easily finished off AND YET…

Play it Out - 3/4 just lacking that final chapter to fix what I broke

Sparkly cockroaches - a one-shot gift fic that I’ve been poking at for over a year 😏 whatever state it is in when I finally post it, it will not have been worth the wait but would be good to finish this at some point. Maybe before the second anniversary of the gift date 🙄

Fathers Day - 3/4 chapters done, 4th on its way slowly. Dad!Scott and the Tinies.

An Eyebrow-razing incident - 3/4 done, just gotta do the deed and raze those brows. Because I am a terrible, terrible human.

FishTanked-Up - 2/? I’ve got a morning-after chunk in draft but I have my doubts about them getting to the gallery. Also they might have accidentally adopted Juan… which could complicate things.

Music is Everything 4/? - my first ever TAG fic and although I haven’t made any progress on the finale in a while, I absolutely intend to finish it because it was my first. I might just have to rewrite half of it before that…

Misc insanity

A Very Silly Christmas Fic - the fic that confirmed I have no control over where a supposedly one-shot goes 🙄 Also ACTUAL ICELANDIC volcano erupted and made my crack Hrómundartinhurmindur fic a bit weird. Maybe I’ll finish it in time for this Christmas…

So… if we just count those and ignore the snippety / bullet points / too many exclamation marks plot bunnies then… twelve? That’s actually not as bad as I thought…

#ask answer #writing #thunderbirds fanfiction #I’m still not over the fact you can’t use yellow text in tumblr anymore #ok so this turned into an excuse to finally track everything down and make sure it’s properly tagged #hence it’s taken a while because me and rabbit holes… yeah…#I’ve made myself a to do list now #maybe that will help?#(it will not help)

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jupitersmegrim · 4 months ago

Text

The new angle is saying 6 foot is tall. Which it is—objectively speaking.

The thing is— that's not enough for Mr Darcy in P&P.

My god, she's barmy, you might say.

I am, but not in that regard, because it’s actually relevant to the story—and clear from canon—that Darcy be not just tall, but exceptionally tall. (This, of course, only matters if we're taking the source material seriously. Since it's becoming increasingly apparent that the new Netflix adaptation feels less diligent in that regard, this entire dispute seems a bit superfluous; nevertheless, I'd like to lay out why we ought to care about Darcy’s height.)

Let me explain:

The fact that Darcy is primarily identified through his height is well-known. Though he's introduced as being exceptionally handsome too, his height is the physical description through which he's characterised, again and again:

The narrator:

“Mr Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine tall person, handsome features, and noble mein [...]”

Kitty Bennet:

“That tall, proud man”;

Mrs Bennet:

“so handsome! so tall!”;

Mr Bingley:

“a tall great fellow”.

Especially Kitty’s remark drives home that it’s his height, next to the proud demeanour, that identifies Mr Darcy.

Height is also clearly a positive trait. This we not only learn from Mrs Bennet’s exclamation when she struggles to voice her delight at Elizabeth and Darcy’s engagement in the end (“so handsome! so tall!”); height is repeatedly used by several characters to signify aesthetic appeal. Lydia confidently uses her own height to express her (superior?) looks (“ I am not afraid [of Bingley not dancing with me]; though I am the youngest, I am the tallest.”). When Lady Catherine is introduced, the narrator uses “tall” as the first in a row of descriptors that start positive and become ever more critical (“Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked features, which might once have been handsome.”). And when the Netherfield party discusses Georgiana's development, her height functions as a placeholder for her beauty:

“Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?” said Miss Bingley; “will she be as tall as I am?”

“I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, or rather taller.”

(NB. the way Miss Bingley attempts to draw attention to her own height [and physical appeal] through the comparison, and the way Darcy deflects by focusing on Elizabeth’s physicality instead.)

So.

Being tall is a sign of physical beauty for both genders. This is true for late 18th/early 19th century aesthetics in general; but even more so, as we could see, in the context of this novel. It's all the more noteworthy then, that it did nothing to advance either Miss Bingley’s or Lydia Bennet's appeal. Especially the former did her best to highlight her superior height, by both verbally (see above) and corporeally (the Turn About the Room) drawing attention to it. Yet Darcy remained immune.

But aren't we forgetting something? Yes! Because there's another person who's characterised as being tall: Mr Collins.

He was a tall, heavy looking young man of five and twenty.

Again, the narrator juxtaposes the good and the bad to sketch his person; he's tall yet heavy-looking. (Nb. compare this to Lady Catherine, who's tall yet large.)

Considering the importance of height, it's very curious then that at this remains the last we ever hear of it. Instead, Mr Collins’s stupidity and awkwardness become his defining traits, so much so that when he is contrasted with other men (who we may presume to be shorter than he is because their sizes weren't even worth a mention), Mr Collins is forced to take the backseat:

With such rivals for the notice of the fair, as Mr. Wickham and the officers, Mr. Collins seemed likely to sink into insignificance.

The fact that tall Mr Collins cannot compete with the physically less impressive but gallant and agreeable officers is both an indictment of his character, as well as a note on his stature. It's fair to say that he may be tall, and yet it's overall insignificant.

Now compare this with Mr Darcy, who, despite being a dick, remains tall and impressive, even to his friends, as Mr Bingley remarks in Vol. 1, to an almost intimidating degree.

To drive the point home: the two tallest men of the novel are romantic rivals. Both are unsympathetic figures at first, but while one withers into insignificance in spite of his height, the other’s presences continues to be marked by his extraordinary stature.

If we translate this into physical terms—Mr Darcy has to be impressively tall, but especially compared to all the other men, even tall Mr Collins.

If a Mr Darcy actor is 185 cm, Mr Collins would have to be significantly shorter for that to be considered an impressive height; 180 cm would be reasonable, comparatively speaking. This means, we've now reached a size threshold for tall that is barely above average (the average height of a Brit is about 178 cm; Germans are at 180 cm; and the Dutch at 184 cm).

My point is—it’s not so much about whether a Mr Darcy actor is tall, but whether he's exceptionally tall relative to the other characters. Yes, you can achieve that at 185 cm. But it's just not going to be all that believable considering the average height of Northern European men.

I'm losing my mind. People are now questioning whether a Darcy has to be tall.

#tall is not tall enough for Mr Darcy #that's not a size kink thing but a canon thing #Mr Darcy #pride and prejudice #character meta #Mr Collins

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abominationvault · 2 years ago

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Session 16 Sat 4 Nov 2023

Due to various engagements we are mostly late this week. Conversation goes from the patriarchy to the death penalty to which fish we would want to be in our next lives. Don’t ask me how.

Last week we were IRL so notes were minimal, but the upshot is that Skabb talked us into some mischief so that she could get some new spells from a fella named Flashbang.

Luna is next to a door; she can’t hear anything so she takes a peek. She wants to know if there are any scraps of food or treasure; no, just drag marks where it’s all been taken away. She opens another door and finds some stairs that lead further down. She ignores those for now, and opens another door - more stairs, and they too lead down.

Not knowing exactly where to go, Hartvig suggests we just blunder around as we have been doing. We decide to go down the less-dark stairs to the left, so that more of us can see. Nadia goes first, impatient. (And more important.) She, Luna and Hartvig find the remains of a pulley system. The walls are cave walls, but the floor is tiled. Luna does some exploring - and we roll initiative!

Luna sees this, sitting on a throne:

It gabbles at her in two languages, neither of which she understands. The DM changes his mind and decides it speaks Common. It points at Luna and says, “Come!” Luna, a cat, does not respond well to orders and ignores him.

(Joto isn’t feeling well, so he bows out for the evening.)

It repeats its order. “Come in!”

Sprocket, being affable and having no reason not to do anything anyone tells him ever, does as he’s told. The thing smiles when he and Augustus enter the room. Nadia takes Skabb’s hand and leads her along (she is sorting the baby IRL).

There are more things in here that look like our new friend. Hartvig thinks they might be the mushroom people we were asked to do something with by the goblin dudes upstairs ages ago.

Graulgust welcomes us in and says we have to make a decision. We can either become sacrifices for the ghost queen, or prove our worth to her and slay the water-monster.

Hartvig thinks that we might appease the ghost queen and perhaps the morlocks can go back down where they used to live and let our blue friends come back here. They will consider it, if we bring them the head of the water monster. Luna asks for a brief description so that we don’t get the wrong monster. Slimy, tough.

Right, another side quest!

We go and have a shufti at the water monster. There is a cave north of us with swamp water in it; as we look out over it, we realise we can’t see the bottom.

None of the boats look seaworthy; could we fix them up? Given enough time, perhaps. Skabb wants to ask the morlocks if they have a boat lying around. They do not, sadly. “Water full of water monster! Stupid, we don’t go in that!”

Nadia takes a look at the boats to see if she could fix one; as she crouches down, Hartvig throws a stone in the water, and we roll initiative!

The DM breaks our adventure at this point, so there is a short pause while he unfucks it. Well, he doesn’t know how, so we carry on with a weird map. Frezzy goes first, and does this at us:

(Luna: “Gross.”)

This is doing a LOT of damage. Sprocket crit-fails even using a Hero Point to re-roll, and is no longer chock full of hit points.

Joto is first up to attack, having natty-20’d his save and taken no damage. (Skabb wrestles with his character sheet.) He readies an attack with his crossbow for when it pokes its head out again. She will save him from getting his fur all matted in the water.

Luna does something similar, but hides as she does it. Little Skabb does a 3-Actioner, healing all the injured for 2hp each.

Sprocket isn’t really equipped for this. He sits up from unconsciousness with an exclamation that I have no idea how to spell, but was apparently a real line that Danny Glover said in Predator 2. He wants to hold an action to give it a good bidet-ing; the DM allows this. That’s two actions, so can he like… hide? Yes, yes he can. He does.

Hartvig sees that some of us are still really poorly, so he does a 3-er as well, healing us for another 2 - he Hero Point’s it, rolling an 8! Cheers all around, and the DM allows him to have his Hero Point back for being ballsy.

Nadia holds an action for Cover Fire and presses against the wall, and the monster appears again. We loose our held attacks; they all miss.

It does this at Hartvig:

Only one hits, but it does him 11 damage. He’s still standing, he’s right as ninepence!

Joto is up, and he will do a showy-offy leap, and land atop “this green bastard”, and slash his kukri at it. 21 Acrobatics - and the fucker reacts and tries to whip him with its tail. 18 hits for 14 damage. But he did sail through the air, so he has panache (can add to his attack rolls). He attacks again, misses, and clings on for dear life.

Luna takes 3 acid damage at the top of her turn. She takes an action to wash the acid off, another to hide, and takes aim with her bow. 10 is a miss. “Aw. Rats.” She Hero Points it, and gets a 26! She adds her sneak attack damage for 6 total. “Wash, Hide, Shoot. Eat, Pray, Love.”

Frezzy didn’t like that, she roars and strings of drool emerge from her mouth.

Skabb is up next, and she will wash her acid off as well. She will try this:

Sadly it misses. Sprocket will do a Horizon Thunder Sphere - he rolls bad and Hero Points it, but a 19 - might hit? If Joto is on its back and Hartvig is in front of it, it’s technically flanked so 19 does hit, for 7 damage!

Hartvig unleashes a Cry of Destruction (“It’s not a phase!!!”), and forces a Fortitude save. It just makes it but it’s flanked, so the attack lands. (We all sing Earth Song at once.) Hartvig goes up a level of Curse. He runs away to hide behind Skabb; she farts.

Nadia flings her freshly made bomb (having made sure it wouldn’t injure her friends) but misses, and presses against the wall and reloads Bluebird.

The dragon whips her tail at Joto and Nadia, and bites at Skabb. All attacks hit, and Skabb goes down farting.

Joto will kill it? Yes? He strikes with his Kukri but misses. He Hero Points it and rolls even worse. He tries the scimitar but that doesn’t work either; he might just prance off the thing. He’s only got 6hp left. He gets the fuck out of dodge.

Luna is up. (Sprocket: “Fix it fix it fix it fix it fix it fix it!”) She shoots and hits for 8, then pours a healing potion down Skabb’s neck. 2hp is better than none, Skabb will take it.

Instead of a death save, she gets a turn! (Luna: “Kill it kill it kill it kill it kill it!”) Skabb will - oooh, is it in touching distance? Yes. “Happy days.” She will heal herself with one action, and gets 2hp back. She will Burning Hands the water drake. Reflex save, and it will whack Skabb with its tail as a reaction. Also it makes the save, only taking 2 damage.

“I am dead again. Bye!” Skabb is now a puddle of goblin, and a cloud of gas, and earns herself a Hero Point for that lurid description.

Sprocket stands on her corps- sorry, her unconscious body, and tells the dragon “I’m gon’ get you, sucka!” and does another Horizon Thunder Sphere - 23 is a better number, and he does it 13 electric damage!

Hartvig will Heal the goblin, so that she can fart more. He does a 2-er, and so heals her for 14! He uses his last action to cast Guidance on Nadia.

Nadia backs up and shoots but the Guidance isn’t quite enough to get her there. She presses against the wall.

The dragon decides she’s had enough of us and legs it; She uses Speed Surge to move four times her speed. We are out of initiative…

Well, this is going to make it difficult to give her head to the morlock.

Skabb and Luna both suspect that there might be treasure around. Dragons hoard treasure, right? Luna immediately wants to find it. Skabb relishes the chance to splat around in the mud; she spins around in it, spraying Hartvig and giving him a big muddy cuddle to thank him for saving her. A bit of blood comes out of his ear; she licks it up and runs away.

Among the roots she finds a chest. Is there a slug in it? Or a leech? Or something equally delicious? She tries to fling it open, but she’ll need some help to open it.

Inside she finds 36gp, Retribution Axe (+1 weapon with a potency rune - we think Joto will want this) and a wand. Skabb squints at it. Arcana check - 18. It is a wand of magic missiles! She offers it to Nadia since she doesn’t have any magic, but she’s not keen on it. We should keep it though, as MM always hits. Skabb stashes it in her backpack for now.

There is a third item - it’s a wayfinder. A dungeon compass!

Luna pockets it.

#dnd #pathfinder #abomination vaults #abomination vaults spoilers

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