#the basic plot lines and ideas for character development are sound! and i enjoy the ideas for exploring magic and cutie marks

[mymarifae]

sighs... i adore the finale of mlp: friendship is magic so much. there was clearly a lot of love put into those last three episodes, and you can just feel the writers and the artists fondly bidding these characters one last farewell, y’know? it’s the (bitter)sweet ending this special show deserved.

but also, while the writers bring twilight and her friends’ story to a very clear end, they (pretty masterfully, if i do say so myself) leave room for equestria’s story to continue. everything was set up for generation 5 to showcase how equestria and the lands beyond have evolved and how twilight’s legacy lives on!

so i’m just kind of flummoxed by how it’s... not.

like. generation 5 wants to be its own thing, and that’s fine. but it also desperately wants to be this seamless continuation of generation 4 and it’s like. um. you can’t be both, man. in its attempt to juggle both of these ideas, it just completely fuckin’ retcons 9 seasons of worldbuilding and development.

where are the winter spirits (not using their canon name because Naur)? you know, the ones that feed off of animosity and fighting? where are the dragons? the hippogriffs/sea ponies? the changelings? the griffins? the yaks? where is the crystal empire? how have 0 records of twilight’s literal School Of Friendship survived? how are there not even simple legends about nightmare moon and her defeat, or tirek and his defeat(s), or chrysalis, or anything?? how has all that world-defining history just been lost?

where is star swirl and the other pillars? ... ok granted they’re probably not immortal but again: not even a whisper of their legacy has remained?? what about celestia and luna? or starlight glimmer’s!?!? out of all the most powerful ponies equestria has ever seen, you mean to tell me only the image of twilight and her friends has stuck around . and that like Two ponies (sunny and her dad) are familiar with them.

where the fuck is discord*

(* comics i have not read are not being acknowledged atm. because really - a character with literally unlimited magic who is deeply tied to the mane 6 and would have been dedicated to maintaining their legacy and protecting equestria for eons to come should have come up in the movie/show by now)

why am i supposed to care about opaline when season 9 of fim ends with two of the most spiteful, interesting antagonists the show has ever introduced (i love cozy glow and i think she’s a fascinating character and i wish the show had more time to dive into why she’s like that, but i’m reluctant to put her on tirek and chrysalsis’ level. she’s like 11) are encased in stone, and since we know that sort of magic-stone-imprisonment is not permanent...? like ??? get this random (and frankly, Ugly) alicorn out of my face i want to know what happened with THAT before you go trying to establish any new Big Baddies

i wouldn’t have as many issues with a new generation/make your mark if it wasn’t determined to cling to fim as its foundation. but since it is.......... what the fuck is going on. why are you paying homage to one of the best iterations of my little pony when you can’t even keep the worldbuilding straight for 2 minutes

#welcome to your bimonthly Millie Talks About Rainbow Horses For 10 Minutes For No Reason session #LIKE. LISTEN. mlp will always be special to me and i am trying to find it in me to love generation 5 and i CAN'T BECAUSE ??!?!?!!? #i may be extremely biased to fim. but on an objective level generation 5's writing is a fucking mess #i watched make your mark like last month and OHH MY GOD. THE PACING IS A NIGHTMARE. #the basic plot lines and ideas for character development are sound! and i enjoy the ideas for exploring magic and cutie marks #i'm admittedly intrigued by misty and her lack of a cutie mark and her relationship with opaline would be a good commentary #but the execution of everything is FUCKED #like even if i set aside all my grievances with the major retconning. they are breaking like every basic rule of writing ever #i don't understand what direction they're trying to take this thing in and i don't think they know either 😭 #anyway. see y'all again in march

[noctilucentstorm]

Ghost Game - Some initial thoughts after the finale

Haven’t read any reactions yet, but a majority of the Digimon fandom are gonna be really upset aren’t they? 

Spoilers under the cut.

Please forgive the lack of coherence (and a lot of rambling) in places. I decided to write this before seeing other reactions as I didn’t want them to influence my thoughts, but it does mean I’m writing this before my thoughts have properly settled.  

I never wanted to set expectations for the final episode, but before it started I did have a sudden thought: “wouldn’t it be nice for this series to not end in some doomsday battle against some big bad like practically every other season?” That’s not to say GulusGammamon wasn’t a potentially society-ending threat to the Digital World, but his attitude towards Hiro and the others always seemed as if he wanted them to join him rather than kill everyone. In the finale, we end up finding out why: a multi-world-ending threat... 2000 years in the future!

I loved the differing reactions between the humans and digimon, which basically sums up this whole series.  The two worlds: human and digital are both advanced societies, but they have different rules and morals that lead to clashes when the two come into contact.  GulusGammamon, rather than being a big bad, is a digimon from another planet trying to prevent the Digital World’s destruction in the only way he knows how.  It’s through Gammamon and Hiro’s efforts that he is shown another path forward.  To me, it nicely pulls together the themes we’ve seen throughout the entire show.

Part-way through the final episode, as much as I enjoyed the clash of Gammamon and Hiro with GulusGammamon, I was a little worried the others were being side-lined. However, the team came together in a fairly subtle way against Quantumon that really summed up the show for me. The plots of each episode have been far less about overpowering enemies and more about understanding each other. Similarly, Team Lulirun persuade Quantumon to allow the worlds to co-exist not with a big fight, but by convincing her they want to make it work. After all, they’ve already shown her over the course of the series that it is possible for humans and digimon to get along. It’s a hard sell for a kid’s show about fighting monsters, but I really liked the departure compared to other seasons.  

As an aside: while some of the criticisms of the show have annoyed me, I can at least understand why many older Digimon fans have felt a bit blind-sided or disappointed with the show. Most seasons of Digimon start out one way, have a twist, and then we’re pulled along a plot-heavy ride until the finale hopefully with some character development thrown in as well. However, Ghost Game episode 13 wasn’t that twist fans were expecting, and while the creators were very upfront about the show’s expectations, past experience told fans to expect something they were never going to deliver on.

For me, though, Digimon has once again given me exactly what I needed right when I didn’t realise I wanted it.  When a lot of current shows feel like extended movies, lasting around a dozen episodes at best per season and end on some sort of cliff-hanger or continuation almost every episode (or worse, the season finale itself), I’ve enjoyed having something to watch where I don’t mind viewing spoilers (the last two episodes being the exception) and I don’t feel pressured to try and overanalyse everything on screen.  

I’ve loved watching Hiro, Gammamon, Ruli, Angoramon, and especially Kiyoshiro and Jellymon, solving mysteries together and growing as individuals and friends by coming to understand a different culture and society than their own.  I think the show has been nicely kept open for a miniseries or movie follow-up, but exploring those ideas in fanfiction sounds just as fun.

Thank you Digimon Ghost Game team!

#digimon #ghost game #digimon ghost game #finale thoughts #yep definitely my favourite series since Adventure #I'm sure there will be plenty of Digimon fans discussing the show's apparent flaws #so this is an unapologetic celebration of the show's end #with a slight nod to those who were expecting something else

[onigiri-dorkk]

Hey! I loved your content and the recent post

Somehow I can’t comment under the post so I decided to write here)

Hope I am not too inappropriate )

You know when I think of Mikasa’s lack of character development … I remember Sarah Connor. You know the Sarah Connor from the 1984 Terminator movie.

For me Sarah starts as a cliche girl in trouble who actually at first hates the man that saves her life again and and again. But then Sarah grows. She learns. She feels and starts to care. And we start caring about her. She develops so much that we absolutely believe that a man can fall in love with just her photo. A good man who wills to sacrifice himself not only for her for - you know - for the sake of humanity. A good man who she is loyal to for many years later and we don’t judge her because well he was the one. The kind of hero that actually sacrificed himself (not the fake leg and the rest of the world) but himself just because it was the right thing to do. The man not very likeable at first sight, the man of few words.

Oh if only poor Mikasa could meet someone like that . Oh, wait?

And by the way. In the Terminator 2 Sarah tells Kyle (when sees his ghost) this: “Stay with me”. Such an iconic love story.

Wait is there a line like that in AOT ?)))

Hello hello @foxandcakes!!! Welcome to the fandom and we're so glad you're here!! This isn't inappropriate at all -- sorry you couldn't respond to the post for some reason but thanks for reaching me here <3

Honestly, I have to rewatch The Terminator (it has been YEARS) but that sounds like what we wanted for Mikasa! If Yams was committed to writing a good, developed romance arc into the story he should have committed to giving individual Mikasa growth, no matter who she ended up w. We should see her motivations, self-conflict, inner thoughts change and transform for the better as a result of her love for Eren. That is the creme de la creme for any story -- you go through the journey of seeing this character transform, and that transformation is what makes plot points matter to a reader. The reason why you feel connected to Sarah Connor is likely because she was given a personal arc, showing who she is and her motivations, and it makes you invested in her growth...

It's a general agreement that Mikasa didn't fully get this, and it's why people's opinions on her are so polarized -- you either love her/how she's written while dismissing the failure of her character writing, or you loathe her because of the failure of her writing. I've been fascinated with our rivamika fandom because it seems like we tend to view her in that middle/balanced lens -- we're extremely disappointed with her writing, but adore her for the potential arc she could have had, and we enjoy that in our own writings and such.

Anyway, I guess that's a huge tangent LOL but basically, it would've been really fuckin cool to have this main female Character A who is unendingly in love with Character B, and that this love is all she knows, until she meets Character C (Levi!!! Or SOMEONE honestly!!) who shows her a powerful example of what real, genuine and healthy love is which would TOTALLY shift and transform her entire idea of what love even is; that the infatuated young love she experienced with Character B doesn't even compare to with Character C, and they grow because of that. There are a ton of fantastic stories with this type of arc! Instead, we get Character A pining over Character B to the very end, no matter how badly he treated her... It's just strange. It's cliche, it's honestly not a great example, it paints yet another image of a a man being able to treat a woman like crap for years but still has her devout love and loyalty anyway... I know the general fandom accepts and even enjoys this, so to each their own, but it's not my cup of tea and I wish we got more for Mikasa. And Levi.

adsjlfkjsalkfjdklajflksjfklasdjlfajslfjsklf

ANYWAY

I wouldn't have known that Terminator has the "Stay with me" line!!! EEEEEEE that's amazing! Thanks for the fun comparison! I'll have to rewatch soon :)

For now, we'll continue to enjoy our quality fandom content. <3 The dissatisfaction just makes our fics and head canons even better. Cheers!! And congrats on finding the gem ship that is Rivamika <3333

#rivamika #levimika #Levi x mikasa #mikasa x levi #levimikasa #rivamika asks

[crystalelemental]

I have now cleared Fire Emblem Engage, and before I get to the cut below, I want to address something.  In the leadup to this game, a lot of reviews came back going, rather ominously, “this is not like Three Houses.”  Every scenario was about how the plot isn’t as intricate, the supports not as dynamic, and made everything about Engage sound like it was a step backwards; a regression in some way.  I want to make clear, it’s not.  It’s much more aligned with games prior to Three Houses, but its plot and characters are not lesser for having a more standard story.  At a bare minimum for discussing this game, I feel like that’s something that needs to be said, because it was a concern that almost kept my wife and I from getting it at all.

That said, in the grand scheme of the series?  This might be one of the best.

It’s been a long time since I’ve said this, and I can’t actually recall if it’s ever a thing I’ve said on the blog before, but from my younger days spending time with friends who exclusively watched bad movies for fun, I developed a hardline stance that simple is not bad, and complex is only good if it’s consistent.  Very often, stories can lead into something being incredibly strong, and then falter or trip face-first at the finish line, becoming outright terrible.  I feel like Three Hopes was a strong example.  That was a pretty fun game from an alternate events story, but the instant we start talking about Zahras, that game shits itself so hard even my wife doesn’t like talking about it, and she’s super invested in Three Houses.  If you can’t stick the landing on a complex idea, I do legitimately think it’s better to not even try.  Just aim simple.  Because if you can aim simple, and just stick to something that has an emotional impact, you can still come out as a good story.

Engage does that.  At its core, it’s a pretty simple good vs evil kind of story.  You are divine dragon, enemy is fell dragon, kill.  This never really changes, and there’s no real gray area on what’s going on broadly.  But the specifics of the story focus a lot on family, and the bonds people create to become like family.  It presents the idea that your family is more than just your blood, and that family can be unbelievably shitty but still, in some distorted way, care about each other.  It has a lot of really impactful scenes around this, with probably the best one being Zephia and Griss.  I...really like that scene.  It’s such an interesting presentation of their dynamic.  It’s too late to feel proper empathy for them, Marni and all that, but it’s such an interesting approach.

I think it’s also worth noting...there’s discussion I’ve heard through the series about how tension is built up in games, and how things like the turnwheel mechanic lessen the impact of your decisions.  But I think this game now provides a fantastic alternative perspective.  The presence of the Time Crystal, and its infinite use in Normal mode, means this is a very common tool to rely on.  Combined with the Emblem Rings that are absurdly powerful, with Celica’s Warp Ragnarok being a near-instant OHKO on bosses.  So hitting Chapter 11, and having all of your tools removed, even temporarily?  That’s the most powerless and desperate I’ve felt playing these games.  Like, that’s up there with shifting back to Dawn Brigade in Radiant Dawn, or basically anything in Thracia after Chapter 3.  It’s such an effective ploy to get you panicking.  I kinda love it.

On that note, I also kinda like infinite rewind.  I know there’s a lot of discussion about its merits, but I dunno, I kinda thought the decision to limit uses of it was...unnecessary.  Either have it or don’t.

Mechanically, I also enjoy that skills are more limited.  I think modern games tend to go overboard on skills and their acquisition, requiring you to cycle through whole classes and allowing five skills for ridiculous combinations.  I think the limitation to 2 skills is more reasonable, and I actually like that they’re inherited off the rings instead of classes.  I think that makes things more accessible, in a way.  Nothing is more frustrating about optimizing Awakening than needing to go to Dark Flier on like every unit who can access it to get Galeforce, requiring you to promote, shift class, get to level 15, then shift to a class you actually wanted, all before picking up the kids, and at that point being so wildly overpowered that the game no longer mattered.  Optimizing in that way was just frustrating.  Here it’s a lot easier to just play naturally.

But.  I hate the SP system.  It’s awful.  Characters start out with more SP the later they join, which is sensible, but it turns out you cannot possibly accrue that amount of SP without obscene levels of grinding.  Seriously, Framme starts with like 300SP, and I think she ended around 1200.  Meanwhile late-game units like Saphir step in with like 2000SP outright.  And some skills have the audacity to cost 5000.  There’s no NG+.  How in god’s name am I supposed to ever afford that?  It’s just not a well executed system.  At all.  Because you can’t really mix and match skills.  Half my army never saw 2000SP, so I just...didn’t get to test any combinations.  Which sucks.   A lot.

I do like class promotion, though.  We’re off the Echoes/Three Houses system, and back to flat stat improvements.  I like that a lot more.  I like pushing to level 20 then promoting when I can, and it always annoyed me that the base stat promotion system would give me nothing for the change.  I also like the proficiency system a bit, and I think it’s interesting how a lot of the classes are organized in a way where you can pick a combination of two skills.  Like, Wolf Knight?  You get Daggers, but you can pick sword, lance, or axe, depending on what proficiency you learn.  I think that’s really cool.  Also Wolf Knight is the coolest addition.  I love it.

Combat-wise, I really like how this game plays.  It just...feels good, in a way that I’m not quite able to describe.  I felt more like my placement mattered, and that weapon advantage mattered.  I was initially wary of the break system, but it came together incredibly well.  Chain attacks are...a bit hard for me to grasp when they happen, but are an interesting play as well.  When I’m using them.  When the enemy uses them to kill Louis, then it’s bullshit.  Random encounters for grinding in particular get really frustrating once they enter “Recommended level: Advanced Class.”  Because the enemies are a swarm.  And they’re a swarm that will all converge on you at once.  The hardest maps felt like the random encounters, because they scale to your best level, and are so aggressive, and Chain Attacks are going to blitz you regardless of defensive ability.  So I’m a bit back and forth.  It’s a cool idea, but I think any time you’re aiming to farm something, it’s more of a problem than a help.  The game feels like dodge tanking is the way to go sometimes, but even then, Chain Attacks are a flat 80% chance to land, so like...I don’t really know what the solution is there.

The rings are pretty fun, though.  Celica was fantastic early-game, but by the time I got her back, Warp Ragnarok was no longer killing everything in one shot.  Which was frustrating.  I feel like she kinda fell off.  Sigurd’s ring with Canter is fantastic, I love the nonsense you can get up to.  Lucina ring was great on Goldmary, double Chain Attacks put fantastic pressure on things.  Lyn’s special is a great way to just annihilate the first HP bar from a boss, and draw aggro without putting anyone in danger.  Byleth’s Goddess Dance was really good, and Thyrsus meant it was ideal for Celine, who now has 4-range Bolganone.  I think the rings simultaneously felt really overpowered, but not in a way I disliked.  Most of the game you don’t have many, so it doesn’t feel too bad, and once you have them all, nearly your whole team is equipped.  I did find it very funny you get 14 units, though.  Because 12 rings and the two DLC options.  They left you units to encourage use of all options, even the DLC.  I won’t complain.  I love using more units.

The last thing I’d note is supports.  Supports in this game are...really good, actually.  I was very pleased with how they came out.  They can feel a bit repetitive at times, but that’s every game.  But man, when they land on something interesting, they really shine.  I especially liked Celine, really grew to love Yunaka and Goldmary, and Hortensia was a massive surprise as well.  They did really well with crafting the characters with supports, which I always feel like is the most important part.  Not every character needs to be centrally important.  If anything, trying to make everyone centrally important bogs down the gameplay something fierce.  But the characters should matter, and that’s what supports are for.  It’s why they invented the things, I think.  So I’m glad those played out.

But oh my GOD are they hard to get.  Getting C and B aren’t too difficult, just fight in the Arena, but that requires a bit of save scumming.  Eating meals is a slow progression, but far more damning is that in-combat support only works in player phase, and doesn’t seem to confer much.  Worse, I gave everyone Corrin’s Quality Time ability, and it...did not significantly speed up access to supports.  It’s really distressing how little that skill did, actually.  I don’t necessarily mind a game where the goal is to replay things to get different supports.  But I also think this goes way, way too slow to be reasonable.  I’d like it to be a little quicker.

That said, barring the SP and support systems being a little janky...this was a really well put together game, with a simple but really effective story, and some great characters.  I had a great time with this one.  And with that out of the way, I am officially able to look through the tags here on Tumblr, where I’m sure everyone will be normal about things and nothing bad will happen.

#fire emblem engage

[meangirlstobin]

i don't even want a steve book i just want him to get a real plot-line or a backstory or fucking something. he basically prints money for this show and has remained wildly popular since s2 if that's the standard we're going by for deserving more development focus time w/e. it's literally ridiculous at this point, esp since they're willing to give him a lot of time on screen (him being in top 3 for most lines in s3) but apparently next to none of it is allowed to mean anything. we literally already know more about eddie's backstory and family life than steve's w his 40 minutes of screen time alone. sorry if this sounds aggressive it just irritates me.

I completely understand the frustration! as a stevegirl*, I definitely feel that steve has been neglected as a character despite him being the it girl. he's a fan favourite and we don't even know his parent's names!!!! I do enjoy coming up with my own headcanons for steve's life, him being a blank slate makes it so fun to play with different ideas because there's no wrong answer. It still sucks though, because I just want my fave to have the same amount of care dedicated to him that other characters seem to get.

that said, I do think that even if we get more steve content, whether it's tie-in material or an in show canon backstory, it will be bad lol. maybe that's just me being pessimistic but seeing the ways steve's plot and character has been fumbled in the last two seasons makes me wary… I'd rather have less steve content and screentime if it meant he could be written well and with purpose again.

also god do I get "angry about new sibling" feelings towards eddie... you just got here!!!! all tie-in materials are cash grabs but with eddie it's it's almost funny.

#I think with eddie though it was kind of a right place #right time thing #From my personal experiences on tiktok and in my local scene when shows started happening again #a lot of people became interested in alternative subcultures during the pandemic. #So st4 came out at the right time for his character to be popular. #Then there was the break before vol 2 which let people go crazy with speculation #and creating fan content making them attached to his character. #then eddie died fans felt slighted made more content to spite of canon and gave him more longevity as a marketable product #asks

[moodcrab]

Elder Scrolls VI Wishlist part V - Quests and Dungeons

So let's get down to some actual gameplay and talk about Quests!

1. It's ok if I miss out on content. I felt like Skyrim wanted me to experience everything as soon as possible in one playthrough, like it was afraid I'd stop playing before I got to all the amazing and varied content it had in store for me. But I actually enjoy making new characters. It's ok if my wizard won't have access to some stuff, I'm definitely starting a new thief character as soon as I'm done. Then I'm gonna try a big bloody Orc with a big bloody hammer. And it's not going to be boring *if* there's going to be a ton of new shit for me to see and do, it'll keep the game fresher for longer which should be important considering how bloody long it takes you to make Elder Scrolls games these days!

Certain side quests should only be available if it makes sense to your character. Ok, so here I am walking through Solitude, the town where I live with my family, a Thane of the Hold with his Housecarl by his side, wearing the same Legionnaire uniform I wore when I killed Ulfric Stormcloak, and for some reason Gulum Ei thinks I of all people might be up for a spot of domestic terrorism. He literally just yelled it at me in the street in front of everyone. The wide eyed new guy in town wearing the shitty cheap armour, yeah that guy gets scammed by Gulum Ei, not me.

A skill based restriction would make sense too, like if your quest revolves around something magical, why are you asking my barbarian Nord character to deal with it? Why not have quests that only unlock with certain perks?

2. Dungeons should repopulate, not reset. I'm ok with the idea that the first dungeon I ever cleared has been repopulated by someone new in the 700 hours of gameplay since then, but not the exact same generic villains. Same bandits saying the same lines with the same traps, same mini plots (journals and the like), and so on.

Ok so I cleared out the bandits, why do they just regrow like weeds? Why didn't a group of witches take over the place, and made something new from the same old layout. That sounds a lot more re-playable. What if it depends on how long it's been since I've returned? Like a day later and the corpses lay where they fell. A week and wildlife has moved in. A month and a whole new group has taken over.

Skyrim really missed an opportunity to have the ability to clear and then garrison an abandoned fort for whichever side of the Civil War you chose, or for the Hold if you're a Thane. Imagine slaying a fort full of disgusting necromancers, a week later soldiers have arrived, a month and they've started rebuilding; or maybe the other side have taken it or are currently taking it*? It wouldn't have just been a more fun approach to a game mechanic, it would have greatly improved the lackluster Civil War plot.

*when I say "the enemy is re-taking a fort", I DO NOT mean that the player will get a pop up message *every* time a fort is under attack anywhere in the country, every bloody in game day! Fallout 4's Minutemen "Cousin Let Us Go Bowling" settlement defending bullshit can fuck right off. What I mean is, maybe the next time I happen to swing by this fort there might be a little battle happening for me to have fun with.

3. As far as dungeons go, less is more. This is the one area where Todd's hack and slash approach to game development might actually be a good thing. There are too many dungeons. I worry that Tamriel will implode at any second because it's basically fucking hollow.

Also, the vast majority of Tamriel's infrastructure is in complete ruin, it's like a post apocalyptic game out there. It doesn't surprise me at all that the Empire is on the brink of collapse when so are literally ALL it's forts are. You can still have ruins, the truly ancient stuff like Dwemer or Ayleid will obviously still be ruins.

The problem with this many dungeons is they eventually start feeling a bit samey, it's inevitable.

5. Deadric quests should be hard to find. It felt underwhelming to become The Champion of a Deadric Prince in the early game, let alone, like, 5 or 6 of them. Whereas finding a hidden shrine while exploring the wilderness feels rewarding.

#elder scrolls memes #skyrim #elder scrolls #skyrim memes #elder scrolls morrowind #elder scrolls oc #oblivion #truestl #tes6 #the elder scrolls 6

[arlecchno]

laughs in currently on summer break ,,,,,,

speaking of that tho , ive been busying myself by playing video games so much LMAO me and my silly visual novel names ( because im too lazy to play anything that needs me to put actual effort into it hahahhahahaha - )

SO THE STORY RIGHT - its a think me and my friend have been workin on since like the end of 2021 n its like set in a royal fantasy like au , fantasy monsters are something that havent been brought up in the discussion but we have cool magic stuff LOL . the most stuff thats defined is the very basic plot idea , the MCs r named Ashe Najimek ( prince , any pronouns ) , Rin Vasilios ( princess , she/her ) , and Kiole Soubaki ( king , he/him ) . dont question ANY of these last names because najimeks is just a keyboard smash and the rest were chosen by my friend they have no significant whatsoever LOL . aaaanyways , rin and ashe are basically from this mainland where all the kingdoms are secretly feuding with eachother but in order to maintain peace for the citizens they wont start an actual war . basically its every kingdom for themselves except for their silly trading systems . ashe and rins kingdoms are like at eachothers throats now since ashe and rin were born with the most magical power their lands have ever seen and its that trope where “child gets born into power and parents use them for own benefit causing child to rebel” yada yada but WUH OH WHATS THAT IS THAT 🫢🫢😨😱 GASP ANGST ?!?????!???? yeah lets go were tormenting our characters today baby ‼️‼️ the full book will go into the struggles of rin and ashe and how they end up as a result of how they take their circumstances . and how they become friends bc of those circumstances . lovely friendship . oh and theres two others that are their guards . Sio and Erza Eztli . theyre twins n stuff . THEY WILL GET DEVELOPMENT TOO WE JUST SHANT SPEAK OF IT NOW . im planning to make them long lost siblings tho lmao ! omg ive gone on such a long rant and i still havent talked about kiole . anyways so kiole is the token mentor character which i will not go into detail because SPOILERS MAYBE . he rules the edgy edgy kingdom of DEATH AND DARKNESS and all the other kingdoms have kinda outcasted his so nobody knows the fucker outside of whispers from the shadowed souls themselves MUAHAHAHAH - ahem anyways .

HERE ARE OUR MCSSS i love them awaaaaaaa

GOSH THO GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR SCHOOL STUFF THAT SOUNDS LIKE SO MUCH BYE 😭😭😭

i also JUST read chapter 5 recently and like …

( for context my friends name / nickname is roof )

ANYWAYS THATS IT FOR NOW CYA LATTEEEERRR !!!!

RAHHHHH HELLO TO YOUUUU!!!! hope you're enjoying your summer break 🫂

AND YOUR STORY TOO!!!!!!! that sounds so interesting already and ROYAL FANTASY AU⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️ SIGN ME TF UP BRO I LIVEEE FOR FANTASY AUS bro you got me hooked with the storyline and characters already and it's still in the works 🤞🤞 their last names are soooo creative too like even if they're a keyboard smash or whatever,,,, still so intriguing like yes sign me up AGAIN!!!! wish my keyboard makes up random and cool last names lmao

THE MCS...... please let me touch their hair i swear they've GOT to have the most silkiest hair in their kingdoms like excuse me let me bow down to them and ask them for tips and tricks 😞🙏

thank you hehe school is.... yeah whatever school's been the same for me but i thrive to live up to the day asphodelus finally ends LOL i need to get that series done before i'm even more burnt out

LMAO YOUR FRIEND'S NICKNAME BEING ROOF IS GOLD 😭 fun fact i was literally like brain dead trying to figure out some bad humour to insert in those lines but somehow ended up with that... (may or may not be a bit of a self insert because i totally don't stare at my own ceiling and wished i was the ceiling instead hahaha definitely haven't.... ever.....)

HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL THESE DAYS AND I'LL CYA LATER TOOOO💌💌

#h answers

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

Since you talked about fic ranting-

I wish I knew how to write well because all I've been thinking about recently is like. A fic idea I have set in the Paul Is Dead universe where paul (shock horror) dies and they get look-alike billy campbell/sheers to replace him, who is almost the opposite of Paul in terms of personality. And it's just all about Billy dealing with being a beatle and learning how to play, and John learning to grapple with Paul's death as he constantly gets reminded of it looking at Billy. At some point they start fancying eachother which causes another breakdown of "am I just replacing Paul here? Or is it genuine". I just want it to be the most harrowing thing imaginable.

I've tried writing it it but man. It's not that great.

................ Friendo I would read this.

It's dark as Hell and lowkey insane, but I LOVE the moral dilemma you've got going on for John tbh.

Also, in my own fic, I've actually LOVED working with the HOLE a person leaves behind, and how you can characterize someone simply by other people remembering them and the ambiguity of that. I don't know, it's riveting to me, and writing scenes where Paul or George or Ringo are missing or reminiscing about "their" John always fill me with a very specific ache. So that's something I see that would be a big part of your story, too. (they're actually generally kind of similar, in a bare bones way, though yours is freakier lol – but that explains why I find it compelling haha)

Anyways, the best advice I can give – since writing is different for everyone – is changing your approach, if your current one isn't working for you. Maybe you need to write out of order to get things down instead of chronologically, maybe you need to outline more. The way I started writing my story, after seeing the prompt (John loses memories) and deciding on my time frame, was just list everything I could think of that would have changed for him between 1962 and 1966.

Maybe something along those lines that could help you get ideas for how to plot the story. Also, USE THE REAL HISTORY for inspiration. Just scrolling through beatlesbible.com/history/2 for HOURS basically gave my story it's entire backbone and helped me focus on the character arcs rather than having to plot every detail.

That being said, maybe if you really like this idea but don't feel up for it yet (it does seem like it would be relatively long, by the sounds of it) it might help you to write some other things, maybe shorter or just very different, just to help you get confident with writing in general and develop a style you feel comfortable with, if you aren't used to it. Otherwise my general advice is always to take a look at stories/writing you enjoy or don't enjoy and figure out what made you have that opinion, which will help you achieve your goals later on and avoid what you want to avoid.

Hope you get around to writing it and if you do, as I've said, I'd love to read it <3

#ask #anon #fic

[fyeahnix]

My Editing Process

I've been asked to detail my editing process that I've been developing over the years. A bit of backstory overall—I've been writing fanfiction for 20 years as of this post, ever since I was 9. My first fanfics were godawful but I enjoyed how fun they were so I kept writing. I love worldbuilding and storytelling. The majority of my progress, however, has been made in the last 9 or so years.

Now as I've always said, I'm not the best writer at all nor will I ever claim to be, I've just been writing for a long time. My storytelling needs some serious work, and my lack of an attention span and ability to tell stories actually cripples me from writing longer, more fleshed out fics. Basically, I'm a short story writer. But with Apex Legends, I'm trying to inch my way into writing longer fics, and at the very least, fics with actual small plots.

In saying all that, my editing process has developed over the years as well, but the biggest overall was about a year ago when I started watching more YT videos of writer tips and content.

Kinda New Process (First major change)

My writing process for the longest time was just "read over fic, fix typos, done" which is...not very efficient lmao.

Last year during my YT video binge I learned about the different stages of editing and started incorporating that into my process. This was the first major edit I made to my process before my current iteration. I'll give a brief overview of what they these stages are, but keep in mind I'm not a professional writer:

Developmental. This is where I worry about the overall structure and plot of the fic. Does it make sense? Does it flow well? Is the pacing okay? How's the character development? These are usually the biggest changes I'll make to the fic overall and often times involve full on structural and paragraph changes.

Line Editing. What it sounds like. Editing lines line by line so the sentence sounds good and reads well. This is where I'll do the majority of the description editing and sentence restructuring. Making sure the sentence overall just isn't boring.

Typos/Grammar. What it says on the tin.

This worked pretty well for me. The first three fics I used this editing process on were the three fics I wrote for Apex Rarepair Week last year—"Rude Awakening", "Fairy Tales", and "I Got You". And honestly compared to the fics that came before these, I think they were a step up.

Current Editing Process

Sometime last year I got a copy of a Self-Editing book that broke down this process even further for...self-editing lol. There's a LOT of good info in there that I picked up and added to my process and it changed a little. This is what I currently do:

Highlighting Phase. This is where I read through the fic and highlight every line, paragraph, or section that I think needs some work. I also did this in my last process. The highlights are color-coded and correspond to each stage of editing I do. I will also add personal comments here. The comments are usually tied to a highlight and remind me of ideas I have to add, edit, or remove content. Or I just praise myself. Gotta pat yourself on the back too, ya know.

First-Pass Editing. The stages have slightly changed because of the info I got from the book. I'll repeat this stage as many times as it takes, especially if I've made seriously major structure changes (and this is partially why Mafia AU has been taking so long to finish). During this stage I will do Story-level, Scene-level, and Sentence-level editing. I'll describe those below. This is technically broken into three stages as I will only focus on Story or Scene or Sentence level only. Basically I knock out all the Story-level and associated comments first, then Scene, then Sentence.

Second-Pass Editing. This is after the first pass is complete. I will only do Sentence-level editing here. The purpose of this is to further tighten up my sentences after all the structure and story elements are set in stone.

Final Read-Through. The last time I will read the fic. I'll fix any lingering typos and oddities here.

(Optional) Beta Reading. I don't have a dedicated beta reader unfortunately, but my best friend enjoys reading my fics and she's a pretty good critic.

I also changed my editing stages a little:

Story-level. Similar to the previous Developmental stage. Worries about the overall structure of the fic, overall character development growth and change, makes sure the story overall makes sense. Again, this is where I'll make the biggest structural changes to the story.

Scene-level. This is somewhat similar to the previous step because most of my fics are one-shots. But slightly different. Here, I'll worry about scene versus summary (aka showing vs telling), description, pacing, dialogue and character action, etc.

Sentence-level. Basically line editing. I will worry about how well the sentence sounds and feels. Get rid of filtering ("he/she/they feels/sees/hears/touches/etc.) for stronger more visceral actions, fine-tune details, eliminate excessive stage direction (e.g. too much movement description, tho I'm still learning this), get rid of passive voice and ambiguity, and increasing specificity (instead of saying "she watered a plant", you can say "she watered a towering and wilting ficus.").

I can't remember what fic started the new process, but I'm pretty sure it was "Why I'm Here."

And that's about it! I am still in the process of figuring out ways to fine-tune this process and still digesting what aspects of writing I need to improve upon, but it's a process. This takes longer than editing used to, but I genuinely believe it's allowed me to output higher-quality content and stories. Read my first Voidstrike fic from last year compared to the most recent and I promise you you'll see a difference.

If you enjoyed this post and find it helpful, please reblog. If you want me to talk about something specific, I can do that too from my own perspective.

#Apex Legends #writing #writing advice #fanfic #fiction #fanfiction #editin #editing process #editing tips

[blarfkey]

Tips on Beta-ing Fic in Fandom

Hello! So I’ve noticed from some of my experiences and the experiences of others that not everyone fully understands how to beta a fic or how to ask for a beta reader.

And I get it. Editing is a delicate process, it's terrifying to ask someone to look at your work, and it's equally terrifying to feel responsible for the quality of someone else’s writing. 

So I decided to write up a little guide. I enjoy being a beta reader and learned how to while I got my minor in creative writing and through participation in many writer workshops but being a good beta doesn’t require an education like that.  A lot of bad experiences I’ve seen or heard about could be avoided with communication and basic courtesy.

More under the cut:

First of all, there are different levels of editing that require different levels of depth and commitment. A lot of issues crop up when two people have a different idea of what’s expected. So here is a way of looking at the different levels.

1. SPAG (SPelling And Grammar): This is the most basic level and has the least amount of time commitment. The beta looks for issues in grammar and spelling such as: comma rules, homophones, run on sentences, anything that obscures meaning, ect. This is the easiest level to ask for since it requires a basic read through and no knowledge of canon or characters or the fandom at all. If you are with a new beta whom you don’t know well, I would start with just this level. 

2. Flow and Efficiency: this gets a little deeper into SPAG. A beta on this level would flag passages that slow down the pace of the story, words that are repeated too often, dialogue that doesn’t make sense or sounds awkward, pronoun confusion, sentence/paragraph order, ect. This requires more time and re-reading the fic more than once to do a thorough job. 

3. Characterization: This deals with how in character your dialogue and actions feel in your story. If you’re writing a character for the first time or you don’t have a full understanding of them in canon, it can be helpful to ask a writer well versed in writing that character to take a look at your characterization. This does require more of a commitment than the others and you need to communicate with each other to discuss what seemed out of character and why and what alternatives could be taken instead.

4. Plot and Story: This is the  biggest commitment for a beta and not something you ask a person to do real quick or even ask a person to do if you don’t know them very well. This type of editing asks someone to look at the story overall and see what is working and what is not working as far as plot goes.

Did the writer develop the story in a way that makes sense, did they lay down the seeds of the development throughout the fic, are they sticking to a theme, are they contradicting themselves throughout the fic, did they repeat a scene, ect? For multi-chapter fics, this requires a long term beta/writer relationship over the course of each chapter update.

You should not ask someone brand new to beta at this level for an update chapter, especially if they haven’t read your other chapters first or aren’t familiar with your writing. This level requires an immense amount of trust between beta and author and a huge time commitment for a beta.

~~~

Now that we understand the different levels of editing, here are some common courtesy guidelines for both authors and betas:

Author:

1. Decide beforehand what level you want your fic to be beta’d for. Communicate clearly exactly what you want your beta to look for and at what level you would like them to edit. You don’t have to use my guideline above exactly, but be clear if you want deeper edits than SPAG, for example. And understand that deeper edits, such as on structure and plot and characterization, require a lot of commitment on behalf of the beta reader. It’s understandable if they do not or are unable to give you that level of commitment so be clear about it upfront. 

2. Be clear on your deadline of when you want this done.

3. Be clear on the length, pairing/characters involved, rating, and major content warnings when asking for a beta. 

4. If you share a google doc, do not let any beta have full editing privileges. Even if you trust them, you won’t be able to see all the changes they make so you can learn from your mistakes. Keep the restrictions to commenter only. 

5. Be upfront and honest about  how sensitive you are to different kinds of feedback. Especially if you’ve been hurt in the past, be honest about what feedback you do not want.

6. Remember, you do not have to change everything a beta suggests. This is your story and even though they’ve done you a favor, it's ultimately your decision and judgement on your own fic.

That being said, you don’t need to argue with a beta about their suggestions. If you don’t agree with most or all of their ideas, they are not the beta for you. Thank them for their time and then follow through with your own suggestions or find a different beta.

Beta/Editor: Here are some basic courtesy rules you should follow when you are beta-ing.

1. Do not engage with fic that makes you uncomfortable, even if you want to be kind to a friend. Your reluctance shines through in your efforts and it does not end well for anyone. If you start a fic and then find you are uncomfortable with it, politely tell your author that you cannot continue. Do not do so in a way that shames their fic. You do not have to go into personal reasons why you cannot finish the fic, just tell them you are unable to do so. 

2. Stick to the deadline you agreed to. If something comes up, let the author know as soon as possible so they can find someone else, especially if they are on a publishing schedule or have an exchange deadline. 

3. Word all your non-spelling edits as suggestions, not commands. Ultimately any changes are the author’s decision and up to their discretion so it comes off as very rude and controlling when you use commands, as if you naturally know better than the author does at telling their own story. This also means that you should not change anything in the document without telling the author if they have given you full edit access on a google doc or word doc, ect. 

Some ways of phrasing you can use to make suggestions:

     A. “Could” and “can” instead of “should” and “need”.

For example:  For example, Maybe you could move this paragraph to the beginning because of ____ reason instead of You need to move this paragraph to the beginning. 

     B. “I think” at the beginning of a suggestion, so it's clear it's your opinion and nothing else.

I think this paragraph works better at the front of the chapter rather than the end.

     C. “Maybe” with a question mark.

This is one of my favorites. Think of it like brainstorming with someone. Maybe you could move this paragraph to the front of the chapter? Maybe X Character could do Y instead?

4. Always explain why you would make a change to story, flow, or characterization so the author understands your intent and reasoning.  

5. Do not judge someone’s writing. This is their story and their ideas. Do not try to steer the plot in the direction you would want to take it, do not kinkshame any of their smut, do not criticize their story/pairing choices because they aren’t to your tastes. The goal is to improve what they already have, not change it to match what you personally like. 

6. Do not offer only critical feedback without something positive. This is very important. Even if you are just at level one SPAG, leave a comment or highlight a passage, turn of phrase, line of dialogue that you enjoyed or leave a note at the bottom of something you think they did well. 

Asking for critical feedback is terrifying, and if there is not a balance of positive and constructive feedback, authors can be discouraged from writing further if they think all they write is bad or needs work. 

The way I did it in writing workshops is that I put every negative comment in between two positive comments. This might be unrealistic for beta, but you cannot beta a fic without leaving any positive feedback at all. 

~~~

Communication and clear expectations go a long way in a good author/beta relationship. It helps to find someone whose fic they have written or bookmarked align with your own tastes if you want deeper edits. Make sure you have similar ideas on characterization, head-canons, interpretations of canon lore.

At the end of the day, however, it’s fanfiction. It is written for free and for fun. Little things that would not cut it in professional publication can slide in an fanfic and there should not be pressure to make a fic as perfect as a professional, published piece unless the author gives you that explicit expectation.

Please comment or send an ask/message if you have any questions about beta-ing!

#fandom #beta #beta readers #editing #fic editing #fanfiction #fic

[stxleslyds]

MY THOUGHTS ON TITANS’ RED HOOD,

BEFORE WATCHING THE LAST EPISODE.

I will start by saying that I haven’t been able to watch the show, these are my thoughts after reading a very well-written and detailed review of the last episode. The review is also written by someone that enjoys the show, this is important because my thoughts don’t align with theirs.

I understand that Titans is known for being garbage, I know their writing is messed up, and I had no hope whatsoever for them to actually write a good Jason Todd/Red Hood story. I would also like to make clear that this post is in no way hate towards the actor playing Jason, this post is just my thoughts on Jason’s characterization.

What I really don’t like is these shows/movies taking the names of loved characters and making an “original character” out of them. Yes, there are different takes of the character and you can build their story differently but I do feel that what they did with Jason is beyond all that. They twisted every concept from his origin and his story, nothing really fits, but someway, somehow, they still managed to push all the wrong narratives when it comes to Robin Jason.

Two of the most horrible narratives that DC has decided to push are “Robin Jason was reckless and a troubled kid that never did what he was told” and “Jason Todd is to blame for his death”.

The show does push the one where Jason is reckless. Jason is consumed by fear, and Bruce Wayne pays attention to that but he doesn’t only do that, he also offers comfort and help, he tries to make Robin Jason go to therapy.

This is huge, they build up the perfect scenario for Jason to not become the Red Hood. But for some reason, they decided to make Jason reckless and too eager to prove that he didn’t need that kind of help. And then they didn’t help Jason’s case because they wrote their Bruce as a caring father that does not want to see his son get hurt or end up dead.

This Bruce Wayne is doing everything that comics Bruce Wayne didn’t. This Bruce cares, so once more, one would think that this Jason wouldn’t become the Red Hood. But, surprise! Jason Todd doesn’t take well the news of him not being able to be Robin anymore.

Here is the thing, if you were Bruce in this situation, would you let this Jason continue to be Robin when he is a danger to himself? I know I wouldn’t.

Here is where Titans’ terrible writing reaches its peak. They have a vulnerable and reckless Jason try to prove that he can still be Robin by working on *something* that can take his fears away. Jason Todd wants to make a drug, let that one sink in.

Jason Todd wants to make something that is basically a drug. Did Titans really erase the fact that Jason’s mother overdosed? Because that’s one of the most important things in Jason’s life and that built up his hate for drugs and what they do to people. His mother was in an abusive relationship and that led her to do drugs and later led her to her own death.

This might not sound too important to other people but to me, it’s something that has always been important to Jason’s character before and after his death.

Going back to the actual show, Jason goes to Scarecrow, willingly, and asks him to make him a drug that will make him don’t feel fear. I know that this Jason is vulnerable and that he probably thinks that therapy isn’t working for him, but why on earth would Jason think that making Scarecrow make a drug for him would be a good idea?

How does that make sense? The show is basically telling us that Jason had a support system and that he was going to therapy because Bruce wouldn’t want to lose his SON. Why does this show go far and beyond to make Jason look reckless and dumb?

This is not me comparing Comics Jason to Titans Jason anymore, this is me finding Titans’ logic unnecessarily stupid, they really went out of their way to write pure stupidity.

Why would they write Bruce as a caring father and as actively working so Jason can be in a better mental state so he won’t lose him as his son if they are also going to write Jason as an incredibly reckless man? Are we supposed to be on Bruce’s side? Because as of now, Bruce is the only one with brain cells.

There is absolutely no way to compare that to comics because in comics Bruce neglected Jason’s needs and refused to see that Jason had different morals even back then, and that neglect was key in Jason jumping onto the idea that he needed someone that he could call family and actually care for him. He wanted love and attention from a parental figure because he didn’t feel like he had one. Robin wasn’t everything that Jason was, he was also a kid with normal needs.

So, you build that completely different and actually give Jason the support that he also wanted in the show but for some reason, he is fiercely attached to Robin even though his fear comes from the fact that he almost died for being Robin. There is no logic to this Jason’s actions and that isn’t on Jason it's on the writers’ incredibly garbage writing. It is like they come up with ten different ideas and they put all of them but none of them are actually solid and well-developed concepts.

And you can’t tell me to get over it because “Titans has always had bad writing, there were two seasons of bad writing”. Listen, if you are happy to consume media that is badly written then that’s on you, Jason is one of my favorite characters, I don’t want him to be written badly just because that’s the show’s style. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with me wanting writers to actually care about the characters they are writing for, all three seasons have had different writers, is it really so far-fetched for me to want one of these people to write something that makes sense?

Jason's death was tragic in both comics and the show, and he was a victim in both of them, yes. But the show really pushes the limits of that, Jason wanted to take something to make him not fear, he looked for Scarecrow (not Dr. Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow, and he was an already established villain) to make him this drug when he couldn’t make it himself. He trusted Scarecrow (for some weird reason) and then as a test he went to fight Joker? It’s tragic because it ended with Jason dying but it's also tragic because the writing is just bad. It just is, and that is a problem for me.

From then on, we have the “big connection” to comics, the Lazarus Pit! Wow, you guys did it, yeah, everyone loves the Lazarus Pit, every time I think about Jason, I only think about that one time in which he was thrown in a Lazarus Pit to recover his mental injuries or all of his injuries after he came back from the dead.

This Jason has no training, there is no Talia, no League of Assassins, no Ducra or All-Castle, there is only Scarecrow and his new puppet, the Red Hood.

It changes everything and I don’t like it. Once again, I understand and know the concept of the multiverse, the various earths, and the Elseworlds, but that doesn’t mean that I have to like this take on Jason Todd/Red Hood along with its horrendous writing.

I don’t have to like it, just like I understand that others do like it because it is their first contact with the character or because they are fine, as fans of the character, with a new take. I am not gatekeeping Jason Todd or Red Hood; I am just saying that my being angry at this version and absolutely hating it is just as valid as liking this version of Jason.

Red Hood in Titans is just Scarecrow’s puppet, that’s how things are, and I just think that it is too big of a change from the original reasons for Jason to become Red Hood. And I will never get tired of saying this, Red Hood wasn’t only all about the Joker killing him and Batman not killing the Joker. The Red Hood was Jason’s way to make things work, to prove to Bruce that Batman wasn’t enough for Gotham. Red Hood came back to Gotham to stop bad people from introducing children to drugs and to make Gotham’s people feel safe.

He thought that Red Hood was the better version of Batman for Gotham and its people.

But I am not blind, I can see how Titans can twist it again to give us Red Hood as a protector of children and Gotham in general. I can see the “I used to do drugs and now I will fight so no other person goes through the same”, I see it and I am aware of it but it does also bring me to my other problem with Titans and DC in general: story swapping.

Story Swapping is something that DC loves to do, they thrive when they make change people’s origins for others and when they take character traits from one character to another.

And Titans’ Jason Todd is just that, he has characteristics and plot concepts from Dick Grayson and if what I just predicted happens then he will have some of Roy Harper's characteristics. And that is exactly what Lobdell did, but somehow, they managed to get different results. I cannot praise Titans for giving us a new Red Hood origin because they made his characterization with the help of other character’s origins and/or stories.

This is the first time that we see a live-action Jason Todd/Red Hood, was it really that hard to just stick to his origins as both Robin and Red Hood? There is so much to explore from Jason, there is so much between his death and him becoming Red Hood, from both before and after New 52.

Jason becoming Red Hood under the influence of Scarecrow in moths is lazy, bland and an insult to Jason’s character. They could have done things by the book and then explore things that we have never seen before in a show or movie.

Jason has had so much training outside of Gotham, why did Titans think that they could do acceptable work at bringing this amazingly complex character in a show that has nothing to do with him.

They could have had him killed in the Titans show and then wait and make a Red Hood show to actually tell a good story. What is Jason Todd doing in a show that is called Titans? Where are the Titans? They chose the most recognizable Titans’ line-up and they are not using it. They butchered Garth and Donna and for what?

DC gets away way too much with selling their stupid shows and movies by telling us that x character will appear but then when you watch the thing for that x character, they are nowhere to be seen. That’s exactly what they did with Cassandra Cain and what they are doing with Red Hood.

I don’t know how this tv show is doing, I only know that as a non-American that pays the same money for an HBO Max subscription, I don’t get to see any Titans content, not even a miserable trailer.

But I know that if non-comic readers are watching it, they will love it and if they actually were to start reading comics because of the show, then they wouldn’t find that Jason there. So, either that leads to Jason’s characterization being messed up even more within comics or it does nothing for Jason or comics.

To end this post, I just want to bring up the animated movie Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010).

That movie was widely praised and loved by critics, comic readers, and non-comic readers. It was fantastic, the story was amazing (even though it had differences with the comic, one might say that the differences improved the story), the voice acting was phenomenal, everything was done beautifully. Do you know what made it that way? The writing.

And you know who wrote the animated movie? The same person who wrote the comic the movie is based on, Judd Winick.

With that I am not saying that Titans should have had Judd write for them, what I am saying is that given the fact that they are using a pre-existing character they should chat with the Red Hood’s creator or even the writer that wrote for him for ten years after the character came back to comics.

This show obviously didn’t do that though, they preferred to write Jason Todd/Red Hood as if he were a Titans original character, but the thing is, from where I see it Titans didn’t give us an OC, they gave us an OOC.

-

So, to sum it all up, I hate Titans’ version of Jason Todd/Red Hood, I think that it is not only badly written but there is also no real logic to what they are trying to do so far. I am also tired of their bad and lazy writing in general. And I would have liked the Titans’ writers to actually respect the Red Hood lore because if they had I would have actually been excited about a Red Hood spin-off show.

Using the material that is available to you isn’t a crime, building from that material is the best thing that they could have done, but all they really wanted to do was use Red Hood’s name to get more money from a dying show.

It makes the show look cheap and actually not interested in giving us good stories, and no, I wasn’t expecting Captain America: The Winter Soldier levels of good writing or good changes to a very loved story/characters, I was actually expecting some Lobdell writing level and the way I see it we ended up getting something worse.

These are all my opinions. You can like, love, or dislike this version of Jason and the show as much as you want but you won’t find any form of love towards the show in this blog, at least not right now.

-

MY THOUGHTS ON TITANS’ RED HOOD,

AFTER WATCHING THE LAST EPISODE.

Well, I will start this part by saying: Sorry. I am sorry that I believed that Titans’ Red Hood was bad, it is actually worse than bad.

I was so wrong on many things, that review really made me think that things weren’t that bad but I still hated what I read. Now that I have watched the episode because I wanted this post to be extra honest and to stop myself from saying stupid stuff, I can also say that I hated what I watched.

This show really validates the two most horrible narratives that DC has been pushing for Jason: “he was a reckless Robin that didn’t think about his actions” and “he was to blame for his own death”

Jason Todd wasn’t a victim of Scarecrow, this Jason Todd took every single bad decision that he could, and those decisions led him to his death. No sympathy for this man.

Also, this Jason is like 19? He doesn’t look younger than that, but that’s not the point, what I am trying to point out is that this Robin is extremely underprepared, he lacks training and the mental capacity to stop acting like an edge lord every time he opens his mouth. He is annoying.

And I was wrong about Titans erasing the plotline of Jason’s mother dying of an overdose, she did die that way and this Jason spoke of her as if he hated her. What is going on? This Jason really doesn’t make me feel an ounce of sympathy for him. This attitude of “no one understands my pain” when everybody is trying to help you doesn’t make you look cool or anything of the sort, it makes you look annoying.

It is even worse because this Jason is so immature and reckless that he made his friend Molly (that is just a normal teen with no training) go after a thug with him, while he was not mentally well. He made that decision for them and put himself and her in danger. If that scene had gone any other way, then Jason could have been guilty of getting his friend injured or killed.

Jason Todd is so incredibly dumb; he is not a child but he acts like one every step of the way.

Nothing makes sense in his whole ass interaction with Bruce in front of the theatre, it’s like Jason refuses to listen to what Bruce tells him, well not that he refuses to listen it is more like a “Telefono descompuesto” I don’t know if you guys have that game but you basically have to tell something in someone’s ear and then the person repeats what they understood to the next and so on, what you said is heavily distorted by the end of the game. In this scene that is exactly what happens but it’s between two people.

When Jason accuses Bruce of not taking away Robin from Dick, Bruce says something along the lines of “I learned from my mistakes” and Jason says “so, I am a mistake now?”. Jason, use your ears, if Bruce says that he learned from his mistakes when talking about Dick, then his mistake was what he did with Dick. The writing is so bad, it's actually painful and it is even worse because the acting is bad, but I can’t blame the actors, it must really be hard to make a scene work when the writing is that bad. (Also, the unnecessary pauses, and the sounds that they play after they say something stupid, it is too funny).

Do you know what made me cringe? When they were having the chat in the theatre, in my mind all I could hear was “if you are nothing without the suit then you shouldn’t have it”, not me quoting Tony Stark in my head! I haven’t even watched that movie! But it fits perfectly for that scene.

The interaction with Scarecrow was more than dumb, if Jason was already acting like a child, now, he is basically acting like a toddler. Scarecrow saw right through him in seconds and just as fast decided that he was going to have fun with his new toy. He gave him a formula that wasn’t quite correct even though it looked like he knew exactly how to make the reverse version of his fear gas. This Jason has zero detective or survival skills but we already knew that when he made himself get captured and tortured by Deathstroke.

Anyway, all the interactions with Scarecrow were allowed to happen because this Jason can’t put two and two together. He convinces himself that everyone is out to get him, dude, Bruce is a detective and he also has eyes, Leslie didn’t tell him anything. If I were Bruce, you wouldn’t be able to be Robin anymore either.

I understand that Jason is not in a good mental place and that he wants to make his fears go away, but he had support, people around him were trying to get him help, trying to make him understand that he was hurting himself. His over-the-top anger and recklessness are unjustified when you refuse to take the help that is being offered to you.

He made terrible decisions for selfish purposes and that got him killed.

This is one of the last things I want to say, Scarecrow either didn’t need Jason at all to get out of Arkham or the writers made an oopsie because at the end of the episode he had someone helping him put Jason in the Lazarus Pit and then he was out of Arkham and he had a suit ready for Jason and everything. How did he manage all that? No idea.

The Lazarus Pit, yeah, I am sorry to be that person but the Pit can’t bring back people from the dead, it can only restore or heal physical and mental injuries (however grave they were), but Lobdell messed that one up already and Titans really didn’t have time to write a single good scene so what was I expecting?

Anyway, the last thing I wanted to say is that I know why Jason or Red Hood seems to not be affected by the drug when he sees Molly at the end of the episode, it is because the executive producer of the show is Geoff Johns! He loves making Jason fall for girls and get all mushy and dumb, do you guys remember how dumb he got when he left with Rose?

Jason being written as the kind of guy that acts like a love-sick puppy with a girl but also screams at her when he gets mad is peak Geoff Johns. So, if you were wondering where that came from, well, there it is.

Yeah, that is all I had to say, honestly if you have read this whole post then you are one strong individual, I am sorry I put you through all my thinking and rambling. You didn’t really deserve that.

I didn’t want to delete the first part of the post because I talked about so much more than the show and my thoughts before watching the episode still stand. I hope this post isn’t too confusing. As always you can think the complete opposite of me about the show or anything, I am just writing my thoughts.

Having said all that, I hope all of you, Titans’ lovers, haters, and people that simply do not care, have a wonderful week!

#jason todd #red hood #titans s3 #titans #anti titans

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

you’re someone i just want around: I

“And I can't wait another minute

I can't take the look she's giving

Your body rocking, keep me up all night

One in a million, my lucky strike.”

— Lucky Strike, Maroon 5

A/N: this idea started as just random concept drabbling between leyla @sunflowervolvimp3​ and i and we never really thought it would amount to anything tbh!! but as we started putting more and more into the plot and characters, we made the spontaneous decision to make it a full on, multi-chaptered collab fic! we have so many ideas planned and so much to elaborate on and we’re just so mfing excited to share it with you guys :’) any and all feedback is greatly appreciated 💌 we hope you enjoy the first part and that you fall in love with this stupid emotionally unavailable moron the way we did! happy reading!!

andrea’s askbox : leyla’s askbox : ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : 

word count: 17.2k

content/warnings: vampire!harry being a lowkey asshole while downing straight tequila like a psycho, getting to know The Crew, Mitch being the iconic legend he is, mentions of smut, and Harry working his immortal charm on an unsuspecting human girl with a peculiar scent and intriguing personality

///

Harry hates clubs. 

In his two hundred years of life, through many trials and tribulations, through tricky scenarios and annoying encounters, through thousands of unappealing circumstances and patience-testing events, he doesn’t think anything quite compares to the crowded, nerve-wracking experience that is a Los Angeles club on a Friday night during peak hours. 

According to his wise, humble opinion, it’s absolutely fucking petrifiying. He’d rather swallow a stake than have to spend hours in a dimly lit room with synthetic smoke choking his lungs, half-conscious humans stumbling around into him, and the stench of sweaty bodies mixed with liquor fumes, alongside the faint yet unmistakable waft of vomit. 

Yeah, Harry would definitely rather eat a red oak spear than have to shoulder that.

Despite his intense hatred for this Californian city during its after-hours, he can’t deny that he fits right into the scene perfectly. Decades of grooming and practice have made him a prime candidate for the fast-paced characteristics that come with the party nightlife. 

Fitting into these aspects aren’t something he had learned willingly; he didn’t really have a choice on the matter, considering his entire existence depends on mortals immature tendencies to get properly shit-faced and make stupid decisions in tightly-packed glorified bars. Harry never understood that— how a fog machine, strobe lights, and an undergrad amateur DJ could ever seem more appealing than the quiet, stable ambiance of a semi-formal bar. How deranged do people have to be to actually enjoy strangers spilling alcohol on them while attempting to shag someone else two feet away on the dance floor? 

Whenever he dwells too much on that thought, he gets a spiking migraine. After this long, Harry’s just come to terms with the fact that humans are regressing as a species. His conclusion is a bit cynical, perhaps, but hardly difficult to accept. One look at a news outlet provides enough proof to launch an Ivy League research project on the matter. 

He really shouldn’t be complaining, however, because the combination of overflowed close quarters and dampened inhibitions makes it the ideal hunting ground. Picking up a living blood bag at a club is basically as easy as walking through a vineyard and plucking grapes right off the stems. It’s practical, it’s fool-proof, and if he plays his cards right, he gets to feed and gets his more intimate needs tailored (a combo that he and his friends refer to as Laid and Drained).  

So regardless of his distaste towards clubs and their eager inhabitants, Harry had learned to mold his persona to fit the bill, making himself as approachable and desirable as possible. His life literally hangs in the balance; he’d put up with throngs of drunk sorority girls and their affinity for shitty perfumed drinks if it means avoiding desiccation. 

It’s not like it’s hard. All Harry has to do is make himself look more appealing than the other hundred men milling around the establishment, which— if he’s being brutally honest— isn’t that challenging. The moral, physical, and ethical standards of men have dropped frighteningly low since his time. Most of the ones that creep around clubs are overconfident, overzealous, boundary-lacking douchebags who think they’re entitled to a woman’s attention, and therefore make complete, utter fools of themselves in the process of trying to court one into their pants. Buying a girl one Sex On The Beach and dry-humping to Daft Punk isn’t the way to convince her to come home with you. 

Harry has developed his own guidelines and tactics for securing a nightly bedroom companion, and his ideas have been working wonders for him for decades now. 

The first and foremost rule is to clean up nicely. Personal appearance is everything. Humans are visual creatures; they build first impressions solely based on outward attraction. That trait is enhanced the higher their blood alcohol content rises. The drunker someone gets, the shallower they become, and it’s Harry’s job to work that to his advantage. And at the risk of sounding shallow himself, he thinks he does pretty alright in that department. 

Especially tonight, present in all the elements of his physique. He’s clad in a pair of high-waisted tan trousers that have been ironed to a crisp, his fitted graphic tee tucked neatly along his waistband beneath his black leather belt. His t-shirt is probably his favorite part of the entire look. It’s a baby blue sturdy cotton number with pastel yellow detailing along the cuffs and collar and a giant cartoon puppy in a striped bowtie taking up its center, smiling cheekily at the onlooker. Arranged around the doodle in faded Times New Roman bubble letters are the words WE’RE IN THE SHIT. 

Harry loves the irony of the article— the innocence of the drawing juxtaposed by the crude message. The piece is a conversation-starter— people almost always comment on it— and that’s exactly what he needs. Something to draw attention to himself and shadow all the other men. Something that shows he has a personality; that he has taste and a good sense of humor and isn’t just another walking genital. Plus, what person doesn’t enjoy a funny little contradiction, especially when it’s this cute?

On top of his graphic top, he’s wearing a tartan cropped blazer (open, of course) with a creme background and royal blue lines. The hem ends at the bottom of his ribs, exactly where his pants begin, and the jacket's hand-sewn buttons and strap detailings show that it's an expensive garment. It shows that he puts money and effort into how he looks, which is something anyone would appreciate when scoping for a possible hookup.

Harry’s shoes are the most casual factor of his fit. They’re a pair of light yellow Vans that match the collar of his tee. They’re plain, but he keeps them clean and they tie the whole look together without a hitch.

Accessories are everything, as well. Aside from the pearls arranged around his prominent collarbones, the gold-dipped cross hanging from a delicate chain around his neck, and the matching dangling cross earring on his right earlobe (again, he adores irony), he’s sporting a plethora of chunky rings on his hands, each unique and effortlessly complimenting his appearance. On his left hand, his index finger dots a ruby jewel embedded into a thick rusted band, another large metal one with dancing bears on his middle, and two clunky golden letters on his last two digits— his initials, HS. On his opposite hand, he has a medium-width plated ring on his middle finger with peace engraved along its rounded edge, an elegant lionhead number with an amethyst stone snug in its mouth, and along his pinky is a decently-sized opal set into a delicate polished frame. 

His two last rings are the most important of all. The lionhead is his daylight ring, which he hasn’t taken off since he transitioned. It keeps him from bursting into flames everytime the sun hits his skin. The opal was his mother’s, and it was her favorite. 

Harry’s attire is something he’s immensely proud of, even though a good amount of people deem him eccentric in the eyes of modern masculinity. He couldn’t give less of a shit. With his lightly tanned skin, alluring cologne and lacquered nails, his shirt stretching across the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, his broad shoulders and tapering waist, his thick thighs, sharp jaw, jade eyes, loosely tousled chestnut curls, and the vast array of dark ink littering his arms...

He looks good and he knows it. And all the people whose gazes glue to him as he passes by know it, too. Especially a random group of young women in line, who ogle at him shamelessly as he casually strolls past. He treats them to a sly wink, an irresistible dimpled smile, and a soft, cheeky greeting of, “Ladies.”

He gets off on the way they swoon at his refined English accent, giggling and waving. 

The only other component Harry has for succeeding in the club environment is simple, but it’s important: Don’t seduce, romanticize. 

Anyone— even inebriated idiots— can try and seduce a woman. And if she’s had enough tequila shots to cloud her thoughts, they just might succeed. But only a real man can romanticize a girl, and it yields way better results. 

Females are an emotional sect (Harry says that with zero misogyny; it’s just a scientific fact and he actually praises it), which means that if you entertain their interests and fluff their egos, they are bound to fall right into the palm of your hand. It changes the game completely because then they don’t feel that they have to pleasure you, they want to. They pursue the guy who flirts without being too vulgar, who appreciates and acknowledges their efforts, and who can go head-to-head with their wit by carrying unforced banter. They chase after him because he’s showing genuine kindness rather than just sexual interests and if he’s that attentive on the getting-to-know-you front, one can only imagine how skilled he could be in other bases. Chatting up a girl the right way, with patience and courtesy, builds credibility and prowess. And as a thank you, they’re usually more than willing to pay special attention to your needs, as well. 

Thus, romanticizing is always the expert move. So, yes, Harry detests clubs and the disaster that is adult recreation. But he’s fucking amazing at playing it to his favor. He’s great at calculating everything down to the smallest detail and he’s going to piggy-back on those skills for the rest of eternity. He’s so good at what he hates that his closest friends have anointed him the title of Walking Paradox. He’s more than happy to keep it. 

All of these thoughts are circulating around his skull, hyping him up for the game ahead as Harry and his friend group walk up to the bouncer at the entrance of the club they had chosen for the night, faint stars twinkling in the dark sky as the sounds and lights of the city fall away into background static. 

They cruise by the long line of people, hearing sounds of disagreement and grumbling coming from the other patrons waiting to get in. Harry casually tucks his large hands into the pockets of his light brown slacks as he pulls up in front of the burly bald man, who is wearing a black shirt with the club’s name printed in neon letters. The security guard is at least five inches taller than him, overswollen biceps and pectoral muscles rippling under the flimsy material of his work outfit as he crosses his arms over his barreled chest, cocking a single thick eyebrow at the seemingly young vampire. 

Harry delivers a good-natured smile up at the employee, despite the man’s obvious begrudging disbelief at what he is about to try and do. His friends chat quietly behind him, uninterested in what is happening; after years of being acquainted, they know that Harry is going to get exactly what he wants. He always does. 

He’s the best of them, that much is obvious. Not only when it comes to his experience with persuading sexual partners and getting himself a decent dinner, but he’s the best at convincing just about anyone to do anything, neutral of gender. He’s the second oldest of the crew, yet he seems to have the most knowledge and practice under his belt; his easygoing charisma, undeniable good looks, and dazzling smile could sway even the most stubborn of souls. Frankly, he’s so successful in getting his way that no one cares to try and argue for the leader position. Not when they can just sit back and let Harry do all the work. 

“Good evening.” Harry’s deep voice chimes giddily in the direction of the bouncer, his accent particularly heavy for no real reason. “How you doing tonight, mate?”

The guard— whose name tag reads Brock and Harry has to actively stop himself from snorting at how fitting the name is for such a brick of a human— looks down at him with a stony expression, voice flat. “I’m good.”

“Well, that’s great to hear!” The curly-haired boy’s simper widens, dimples popping into place as he skates into his next question with dramatic friendliness. “Haven’t had anyone cause you any trouble tonight, have you?”

Brock blinks once, attitude remaining coldly indifferent even in the face of Harry’s cheeriness. His words, however, are snipped and pointed. “Not yet.”

“I’m guessing you’d like to keep it that way.” The young man comments sympathetically, nodding his head along with the worker. “Totally understandable.” 

“Good.” The employee remarks in the same detached tone, shifting on his feet, obviously growing uncomfortable and irritated with the conversation. “So I’m guessing that means you know you have to get in line.” 

Harry glances over his shoulder at the lengthy expanse of people gathered along the side of the building, a light wind filtering through his freshly-shampooed ringlets as he studies the way the bright sign on top of the club casts alternating rainbow colors across the crowd. 

He makes a disapproving sound by sucking at his teeth, lulling his sight back onto the guard. “I don’t know, man. At this rate, I feel like by the time we get to the front of the line, it’ll be last call.”

“Maybe.” Brock shrugs offhandedly. “It is what it is, right? Fair’s fair.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Harry returns his gesture, but his posture shows no intention of moving, the corners of his rose lip set in a knowing smirk. “But since you’ve been having a good night, do you think you could find it in yourself to just let us through? We’d greatly appreciate it.” 

The bouncer’s face hardens, any shred of professional amiability washing out of his defined features. “I don’t think so.” 

The vampire’s shoulders sag in exaggerated disappointment. “Are you sure? It’s just five of us. Don’t think we’ll do much damage. Right, guys?”

Harry glimpses over his back to his friends, who let their conversation falter for a moment to throw out a chorus of half-assed agreements, trying to keep themselves from snickering. 

“We promise we won’t cause any problems.” Xander speaks up, jutting his chin encouragingly at the man as his lips twitch slyly. He lifts one of his hands, the smallest finger sticking out stiffly and wiggling around. “Pinky swear.” 

The rest of the group bursts into a round of light laughter, causing Harry to release a few airy giggles of his own.  

Xander looks over at Niall, raising his eyebrows and quipping in an innocent manner. “Right, Ni? No funny business tonight. That means no climbing onto the bar again and stripping down to your socks.” 

“That happened one time!” Niall exclaims incredulously, socking the taller boy in the shoulder as the others laugh harder than before, his blue eyes narrowed and face pinched. “Once! And it was only ‘cause Harry challenged me to a tequila shot contest.”

The Irish vampire’s accented voice drops darkly as he reminisces. “Fuckin’ hate tequila. Makes me act like a moron.” 

“As if you’re not one already.” Mitch pipes up in his usual soft dialect, chuckling as he ducks away from Niall’s vengeful fist. 

Harry cranes back to face Brock, thumb playing with his daylight ring as his hands stay relaxed inside his trousers. He shrugs one shoulder easily for emphasis. “See? You can let us through. We pinky swore.” 

The entire charade seems to have only infuriated the security guard more than before, his brows now fully furrowed and a deep, unamused frown etched across his previously pursed lips. His voice is on edge with barely controlled anger. “I’m not putting up with any shit. If you want in, go to the back of the line. If not, leave.”

Harry sighs grandly in defeat, head shaking slightly. “Guess I’ll just have to go the other route, then.”

The creature takes a step forward towards the employee, close enough that their chests almost press together. The bulky man stands his ground, though there’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes at seeing the smaller boy make such a bold move. 

“What the f—?”

Harry locks gazes with Brock, pupils dilating to twice their size, the usual emerald shade of his irises flickering a haunting red and looking sinister in the buttery light of the street lamps. Horror breaks across the worker’s face, the ability to form coherent sentences disappearing from his demeanor. Harry’s heightened senses can hear the way his heartbeat spikes, blood instinctively rushing into his chest as a response to the adrenaline materializing in his veins. The activation of human’s fight-or-flight modes is always so oddly pleasurable. Just feeling how they react so drastically makes Harry’s fangs tingle with longing. Fear is a good condiment, he’s learned; it gives blood’s usual metallic flavor a certain twang.

But at the moment, a beverage from this specific tap isn’t the one Harry has in mind. He has his interests set on something much tangier and full-bodied; maybe Casamigos golden tequila, or Don Julio's Blanco. Preferably mixed with a young office secretary or a Bath and Body Works employee instead of lemon and salt. 

All in all, Brock is just collateral for a much bigger prize, which lies behind the roped off area he holds dominion over. It’s Harry’s job to break that dam. 

Before the large man can fully react, the vampire begins working his compulsion strategy, tone coming out level and soothing, thick with persuasion and teetering along a sleepy undercurrent. “You’re going to let us through, and you’re going to forget we ever met.”

The guard’s pupils enlarge to match Harry’s, the look of utter terror on his face melting right off. His features go slack as the monster’s magical influence works its way through his brain, coating every neuron and bending him to the deliverer’s will. The man reaches over and removes the velvet rope blocking the group’s path, stepping off to the side obediently with an empty expression present across his appearance. 

The leader of the group smiles just as brightly as he had the second he’d walked up to the door. He passes by the worker, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder and feeling the muscular man strain under his supernatural strength. “Thank you very much. You have a nice night, Brock.” 

Harry’s friends follow behind him, echoing his parting message and sharing a collective chortle.  

The second the group dives past the frame of the club entrance, the whole ambiance of the atmosphere changes. Harry walks across the top ledge of the establishment, coming to a halt at the railing that overlooks the main level of the club, his inhumanly sharp eyes bouncing around all the corners of the building to construct some type of familiar layout in his head. Amidst the blinking lights, thick artificial smoke, and swaying bodies, his keen instincts sketch a mental image for tonight’s hunting ground. 

The bar is at the far left corner of the club, squared off and taking up a large chunk of the colorful tiled dance floor. The music station extends across the entire wall at the opposite end of the tavern, stocked with massive speakers and a professional turntable. Harry’s brows jump in mild surprise— it’s not every day that a club puts so much effort into their mixer. 

The animated dancing area is packed with people, the crowd all jumping and grinding to the beat of the bass, moving as one large mass while the rotating strobe lights hang from the cavernous ceiling, bathing their moving silhouettes in neon reds, drunken blues, groggy purples, and electric yellows. The dim surroundings and heavy fog make all the hues more intense, giving the endless party that timeless quality which people tend to enjoy about nightlife. It’s the night to remember effect that movies and shows always hyperbolize; he thinks this way because he’s well aware that not even a third of these people are sober enough to know what the fuck they’re doing, let alone recall it the following day. It’s comically ironic, really. 

But Harry profits off that liquor amnesia, so he brushes away his sardonic skepticism for the time being, settling his lean forearms onto the metal railing that lines the second story of the venue, which is meant to keep shit-faced customers from creating a messy lawsuit. He carefully absorbs the grandeur of it all, leaning his weight forward with a detached sigh, already flickering through the mental menu of his favorite drinks that he has expertly memorized. 

He’s in the process of choosing between a Manhattan— it isn’t a very complicated drink, which is exactly what he’s looking for; something simple and strong— or just straight tequila in a glass when he suddenly feels a familiar presence arrange itself beside him, bumping his shoulder playfully with their own.

Harry snaps out of his recipe retrieval, eyes casting to the side to land on his best friend of almost a century. He cocks an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for the thin, bearded man to make the first move towards conversation.

“You’re a real dick, y’know that?” 

The green-eyed vampire sputters into spontaneous laughter, the edges of his eyes crinkling as the small pits in his cheeks jolt awake. His tone is humorous and full of fake insult for the hell of the joke. “Wow, alright. So I get us into the club that you chose and that makes me a prick? Good to know. You can handle the muscle next time, then, if you’re gonna talk shit.”

Mitch cracks a gentle jesting grin, which is very on brand for him. He doesn’t seem like much, with his skinny, lanky frame, delicate features, shoulder-length hair, and somewhat scraggly stubble. He’s quiet, reserved, and hardly engages with anyone outside of their immediate group. He’s always been that way for as long as Harry could remember. 

When they had met back in 1924 at a speakeasy in New York, Mitch had given off a mysterious vibe that Harry had found amusing and intriguing. His slightly sickly appearance and distant persona made the younger vampire want to get to know him better; it was just so peculiar that this seemingly impassive man was working at an illegal bar as a live musician. One would think that a performer would have to display an engaging character to keep a loyal audience, but Mitch had been all the talk of the underground despite his unemotional coolness. It was startlingly unorthodox and Harry just had to know more. 

Therefore, with a bit of help from his convincing supernatural abilities, he’d secured a spot as the black market club’s leading vocalist. He wasn’t anything worth a Grammy, but he could keep his singing in tune and follow Mitch’s guitar rhythms easily enough, all thanks to his limited experience with piano. He fit right in. 

From the first show they had put on together, it was like they had known one another in a different lifetime. They clicked so flawlessly it was almost fictional. 

Harry was lively and charming on stage, working the crowd to his favor as easily as he could knock back a shot, wrapping every single patron around his jeweled pinky without breaking a sweat. His witty temperament countered Mitch’s timid disposition perfectly and that uncommon dynamic had been the foundation to their friendship. Their humorous shenanigans on stage (which included Harry pinching at Mitch’s ass and making vague vulgar motions at each other while harmonizing) was a hit within the drunken community, and it bled into their personal lives. They went from only interacting on stage to sharing drinks together afterwards, to hanging out outside of work, to deep late night conversations about the world and their experiences.

Soon enough, they were closer than either had expected to become. And once they found out each other’s true identities (Mitch had transitioned during the American Revolution, when a vampire in his battalion had given him blood to heal from a wound, unaware that the next day, Mitch would suffer a fatal gunshot to the stomach that would trigger his transformation) they grew inseparable. They had remained that way ever since. 

Despite his friend’s withdrawn tendencies, the older vampire never hesitates to make his opinions heard, obvious in how he’d just full-bodied Harry with that snarky comment. Even when it’s at his expense, Harry appreciates and respects the rawness of it. He loves the way Mitch is honest and straight-forward with everything that crosses his path— it’s one of his favorite traits about him and definitely one of the characteristics that had led Harry to deem him his best friend. He’s probably the most fulfilling person Harry has ever met and their friendship brings him a type of comfort that he doesn’t receive from anyone else.

Vampires can be so detached and cold not only towards humans, but towards one another, and it gets old at times. It’s unsettling not having someone to truly confide in, and Harry is grateful that Mitch had been so willing to fill that position.   

Due to this, Harry rarely takes genuine offense in Mitch’s digs. They’re normally expressed as a joke and they’ve both been alive for so long that thick skin is a default.

“How was I dick?” Harry inquires, slinking his head to the side with entertained curiosity. “If anything, he was the one being an asshole. I asked him to let us in nicely and he practically spit in my face!”

Mitch snorts in amusement, shaking his head lightly as his eyes streak across the humongous room in the same cunning manner Harry’s had. “You and Xander didn’t have to mock him that way.” 

That’s another thing that makes Mitch the better half of their power duo— he still has a decent shred of humanity in his unbeating heart. Pessimistic conclusions aside, Harry does have a bit, as well...but his is more like a paper-thin pencil shaving than a shred. Barely there, but there, at least. 

The young man returns his companion’s snort, rolling his eyes up to the hanging lights over their heads. “Was just some harmless teasing. Nothing bad came of it.”

Mitch scowls scoldingly. “It was unnecessary and mean.”

Harry mimics his expression with his nose scrunched sarcastically. “We were just taking the piss, and it’s not like he’s gonna remember it anyways. Stop being such a kill-joy.” 

“Stop being such an arrogant little shit.” 

“Or what?” Harry tilts his chin up challengingly, the amber specks around his pupils glinting tauntingly, faint black veins momentarily webbing across the whites of his eyes. He sweetens his voice into a honeyed drawl. “Are you gonna spank me, daddy? Have I been a bad boy?” 

Mitch belts out a feathery chuckle, shoving his friend with enough strength to send a regular human flying across the deck. But since the taller vampire matches his force, he hardly moves an inch. “Fuck off.” 

“I’m being serious!” Harry cackles, turning his hips and sticking out his ass towards his visibly disgusted acquaintance. “Go fucking in, if you want.”

He lowers his voice into a sultry hum, wagging his backside jestingly. “I like it rough, baby. Why don’t you bend me over this railing and show me who’s boss?”

It’s Mitch’s turn to roll his eyes to the ceiling, voice deadpan. “I think I’ll pass.” 

Harry juts his lower lip into a theatrical pout, sniffling faux tears. “You’re rejecting me that quick? Who’s the asshole now, huh?”

His best friend doesn’t even blink. “Still you.”

“I can live with that. And it’s probably a good call on your end to give up all this,” he signals vaguely up and down his tight torso with a ringed hand, grinning as he watches the veteran vampire pretend to gag, “because I don’t think Sarah wouldn’t be too happy about it.” 

Mitch’s humorous face immediately drops, eyes narrowing at the change in topic. “Very funny.” 

“I know, right? I’m a proper comedian.” Harry quips proudly, batting his lashes mockingly. “Where is Sarah, anyways? Have you heard from her lately?” 

Sarah and Mitch...They’re a complex couple, if they can even be called a couple. The two are more like occasional friends with benefits, “occasional” meaning “once every couple of months, if Sarah happens to be passing by.” 

Their relationship is open and very loose, mostly due to the fact that Sarah is fairly new to the world of blood-driven immortality and has decided to take full advantage of it. She’s been using compulsion to travel the world for the last three years since she changed, which had been the result of an unfortunate car accident. 

Mitch had been seeing her casually beforehand, keeping her around for the purpose of having a conventional feeding arrangement. Every time vampires feed, they heal the wounds they inflict with a bit of their blood, proceeding to then wipe the person’s memory with compulsion in order to eradicate any chances of getting caught. The caveat is that if a human dies with vampire blood in their system, they become one. 

Sarah’s death happened the day after she’d spent a night with Mitch, and one can imagine how distressed she had been when she'd awoken atop a metal table in a morgue within the basement of a hospital. Mitch had been there from the very first second she’d opened her eyes to her new life. Or rather, her dead life. He had helped her get accustomed to the next stage (meaning having to cut family ties in order to avoid a catastrophe— the less people that know the truth about the supernatural, the better) coaxing her through transition and teaching her the way to go about the rest of eternity without putting herself and others in danger. 

Vampires rarely have any compassion for life (usually out of spite, which stems from how their own lives were taken from them), so it’s not uncommon that bodies are found drained of blood in back alleys, abandoned warehouses, and washed up on banks of oceans and rivers. It could be either of two reasons, or even both: the monster doesn’t care about the consequences of their actions, or they never learned to control their urges. 

Harry’s crew isn't that careless. Through Mitch, they had learned restraint, taking up his practice of feeding enough to satisfy themselves without killing the host, healing them, and then erasing the occurrence from their memories. Mitch had come up with the tactic to cling to his humanity— to be as kind and nondestructive as possible— but if Harry’s being honest, most of their friends only play along because it’s convenient. No bodies means no police involvement, and no police involvement means being able to settle down in one place for an extended period, not having to stress about the annoying process of bouncing around the world for the rest of their lives to avoid detection. 

Keeping low was for the best, and when things get rough— whether it be a mistake on their part or a disastrous bender caused by another vampire passing through— they resort to drinking from blood bags until things tide over. Mitch has a contact at the nearest hospital, which is how he gets access to the stock, as well as how he managed to clean up Sarah’s passing so quickly. 

All in all, Harry had only mentioned Sarah to tease his friend, knowing the slight sensitivity that comes with the subject. Vampires rarely form emotional bonds, typically because it can get really messy, really fast, whether that connection be to a mortal or to another creature of their species. All of them have baggage of some sort— you can’t die, resurrect, be forced to abandon your family, and be a slave to drinking blood for the rest of eternity and just...be normal. That type of extreme emotional turmoil is corrosive towards love. It’s always better to just avoid it all together. 

That’s why this is so habitual to joke about; it’s a way to deflect. 

Mitch sighs grandly, Harry’s question echoing in his skull. “I don’t know where she is, to be honest. Last we talked was, like, four weeks ago, I think. She was in Japan, said she was drumming for a new upcoming band. Haven’t heard from her since.”

Harry nods his head once in understanding, itching to steer the theme of their conversation elsewhere now that he knows the topic is in a more sensitive state than he’d imagined. He doesn’t want to push Mitch into a depressive episode when they’re supposed to be having a good time. Spending the night consoling his sulky friend in the bathroom of a club is the last thing he wants right now. 

“I guess that makes Sarah the asshole, then.” He pokes jokingly, bumping the older vampire’s hip with his own. “She’s ghosting you. Get it? It’s funny ‘cause she’s actually dead.” 

Mitch’s sad expression shatters like glass, replaced by one of unamused secondhand embarrassment at the shitty pun. “I fucking hate you.”

“All the people who were ahead of their time were hated.” Harry sing-songs, turning up his nose haughtily. “Copernicus, Socrates, Einstein— all of them were hated for being geniuses. I’m willing to carry that same burden.” 

Mitch blinks at him three times. “No one hated Einstein.”

The curly-haired boy’s lips twitch darkly. “I’m pretty sure Japan did.” 

“You’re going to hell.” 

“I’m already there, mate.” 

Mitch shakes his head, but even through the black lights, Harry can see him trying to ward off a laugh. After a moment’s pause, he speaks up again softly. “It’s not that hard to refrain from humiliating innocent people who are just doing their job, H.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re still on that?” The broad monster groans in exasperation, palms slapping down on the metal rungs below him. “We were just having some fun! But fine. If it helps you fake sleep at night, I’ll try and keep my condescending flare to a minimum.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Mitch responds peacefully, tapping his nimble fingers casually along the railing, his action much less violent than his companion’s. “S’not too difficult.” 

“Whatever.” Harry scoffs, returning his intent gaze to the dance floor, scoping out the scene once again in hopes of finding a proper meal for the night. 

He zones in on a group of young women gathered along one side of the bar, their messy giggling and lack of balance giving away that they’re obviously sloshed off their faces. Seems promising enough. 

When he talks once more, his tone holds an attitude that plays on a grumble, but it’s somewhat distracted. “The least you could do is let me have some fun, considering I didn’t even want to come.” 

Mitch huffs, making an entertained noise in the back of his throat. “You say that every single time we go out, and yet you always end up taking someone home. Don’t know why you’re complaining.” 

Harry side-eyes him from his peripheral vision, the corners of his pretty cherry mouth dipping down grudgingly, mood defensive. “You drag me to these things so I’m not going to apologize for making the best of it. I put a lot of effort into my pick-ups! I deserve to get my dick wet.” 

“God, please don’t say that again.” His best mate physically makes a vomiting sound. “You’re acting like a spoiled fraternity douche.” 

Harry’s gaze ignites into flames, his back straightening out as he fully turns to face the shorter man. He’s never been insulted so low before. “Take that back!” 

“Take that back!” Mitch mocks in an exaggerated, high-pitched British accent, attempting to stifle giggles. 

“Take it back! You know how much I hate Gen Z.”

“Okay, boomer.” 

“You’re older than I am!” 

“I know. Your lack of maturity is a constant reminder.”

Harry opens his mouth, prepared to make a sharp comeback about how Mitch should have left the shaggy-haired stoner aesthetic back in the eighties, but then a heavy Irish accent interrupts his rebuttal. 

“What’s all this about getting your dick wet?” 

Both of the vampires turn towards Niall, finding Xander and Adam accompanying him in a loose semi-circle. 

Xander isn’t paying any attention, too busy tapping away at the screen of his smartphone, apparently engaged in a very riveting conversation with whoever is on the other side. Adam has his hands tucked into the pockets of his plum purple wind-breaker, looking over Harry’s shoulder, seeming to be adamantly searching for someone in particular amidst the mob on the level beneath them. Niall is the only one interested in their dying conversation, probably only because he heard something crude being mentioned. 

“It’s nothing.” Harry dismisses, but he can’t help but stick Mitch with a glare. “What’s the plan for tonight, then?”

Adam speaks up for the first time. “Charlotte and Ny texted saying they got here about ten minutes ago. Mentioned they were dancing near the DJ station, so I think I’ll go find them.”

“Sounds good.” Harry bobs his head in accordance. “We’ll see you out there, yeah?” 

Adam returns his action, turning on his heel and heading for the stairs that lead to the bottom floor. The leader of the group watches him trot onto the large spiral staircase, disappearing into the thick throng of people scattered across its wide steps. 

Harry shifts his attention to Xander, snapping his fingers a few times in his direction and giving a two-toned whistle. “What about you? What’s got your head?”

“Not what, who.” Niall teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and making kissy faces at their friend. 

Xander ignores him, glancing up at the green-eyed brunette to let him know he’ll be with him in a second, returning his focus back to his iPhone. After a few more elongated moments of typing, the older man finally locks his device. 

“I have a date.” He throws out casually, almost as if it should be obvious. 

“A date?” Harry reiterates slowly, not quite buying it. Xander doesn’t date. He couch-surfs just as much as Harry does. 

“Mmhm.” Xander glimpses behind his fellow vampire, eyes carrying intention. “It’s just a random dude from Tinder. I thought it’d be easier to set something up beforehand, just so I don’t have to spend the whole night trying to figure out if a guy is making eyes at me or trying to keep his whiskey down.” 

“Smart.” Harry shrugs his sculpted brows, impressed. A cocky grin toys with the corners of his mouth. “But we both know no one will ever compare to me.” 

“Right.” Xander scoffs in a deadpan manner, gifting him a tight, aggravated smile. “If only you weren’t such an emotionally unavailable prick.” 

“Oh, like you’re mentally stable enough for a relationship?” Harry bites back, but it holds no true malice, just some petty rivalry. “Piss off.”

“Happily!” The other vampire exclaims, clasping his hands together for dramatics. “Have fun finding someone out there. I’m just gonna grab a to-go box for my already prepped meal.” 

Harry doesn’t bother watching him leave. Instead, he turns to Niall, pointing at him to symbolize it's his turn to share his plans for the night. “What have you got, Lucky Charms?” 

His friend breaks into a jolly cackle at the nickname, arms falling crossed over his chest, hands absentmindedly squeezing his elbows in thought. “Well, I dunno, Tea and Crumpets. What’s your game plan?” 

Before Harry can answer, Mitch butts in, feeling left out of the banter and somewhat hurt that no one had assigned him an alter ego. “What’s my country-derived nickname?” 

Niall gives the American a slow once-over, shifting in his dark brown Clarks boots, fitted navy slack riding up his thighs and allowing his rainbow polka-dot socks to peek out. He hums lowly in the back of his throat, a grin spreading across his rosy cheeks. “Biscuits and Gravy.” 

Harry chimes in, his own arms casually folding over his strong chest, index finger tapping on his bottom lip as if mulling something over. “I quite like We The People, actually.”

The Irish lad snaps his fingers as if having a sudden epiphany. “Uncle Sam!”

Harry’s emerald eyes twinkle with glee at seeing the way Mitch’s go half-lidded, no longer entertained. “Four Score And Seven Years Ago.” 

“Okay, I think that’s enou—”

Niall wags a finger at Harry, lifting one shoulder in question, seeking approval on his next idea. “Star Spangled Banner?”

Harry copies the boy’s motion from before, snapping his fingers and making jazz hands. “I Pledge Allegiance.”  

“Ok, I get it!” Mitch whines with annoyed finality, pushing off the metal railing with a curt grimace on his scraggly face. 

“You asked!” Niall rationalizes between hiccups of evilly delighted joy, cupping his stomach as if to keep it from splitting open. 

“Won’t make that mistake again.” The older creature grumbles, leaning his back against the rungs and looking off towards the distance, communicating that he’s done being a part of the conversation. 

Once Harry manages to reign in his giggles, he rubs at his nose with the side of his finger, releasing a wistful sigh. He refers to the question Niall had stated before their little bullying fest. “I think I’m just gonna do what I always do— sway a nice, pretty girl into doing some not-so-nice but very pretty things.” 

“Solid.” The Irish bloke remarks, toying with the plastic buttons on his silk beige top. “Not much to do other than that, to be fair. Adam’s usually my wingman, but I guess he abandoned me for a girl’s night.” 

“Mitch is mine, and he knows better than to dip on me.” Harry roughly nudges his best friend with his elbow, dodging to the side when Mitch tries to hit him in return. 

Niall hums softly in amusement. “Maybe I should make Adam sign whatever contract you drafted for that poor bugger.” 

The curly brunette snorts. “Good luck. Adam’s as stubborn as they come. But, hey, if you can’t find anyone, just come to me.” Harry’s irises flit crimson for a millisecond, an ominous smirk buckling his features. “You know I’m always happy to share.” 

“Thanks,” his friend exhales flatly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“If you’re taking tips,” Mitch pipes up, vaguely signaling at Niall’s shirt with his chin, “maybe don’t wear that stupid shirt next time. The elephant doodles look ridiculous.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not taking fashion tips from anyone who actually enjoyed living in Ohio, then.” Niall snaps in an exaggerated American accent, middle finger jutting towards the other man. “The only thing you know how to dress is a cornfield scarecrow. Must be why you look like one.” 

Harry forces down more laughter, clearing his throat softly. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t get hammered— girls hate that.” 

“Note taken.” The pale boy runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it up and adding texture to appear more laid-back and rugged. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Later.” The younger vampire recites, giving a big thumbs-up. 

“Good luck out there. You, too, Boston Tea Party.” 

With that, Niall saunters away, leaving a fully laughing Harry and a grouchy Mitch in his wake. 

The two acquaintances decide to follow in everyone else’s example, descending down the looped staircase and chatting about Mitch’s latest gig at a new bar downtown. 

Harry praises Mitch's talent with his guitar, specifically the fact that he found a hobby which he enjoys so much that he’s willing to keep it as a permanent part of his life. It’s easy to get bored of things when you have hundreds of years ahead of you; everything can seem pointless, in the end. But Harry doesn’t think Mitch has ever let himself fall into those types of dark headspaces and he finds that extremely admirable. 

Harry wishes he could say the same. He’s no musical prodigy, that much is obvious, but he is an expert at playing a few specific French songs on the piano by memory. He rarely does it, though; only when he’s in a low state of mind, which— given the origin of how he learned said classical pieces— isn’t something he’s proud of. They’re tied to a very gruesome part of his past that he’d rather bury deep inside, but he can only push back his troubles for so long before they begin to leak out, staining the clean sheet of recovery he had sewn into place. Those arrangements just bring him a warped sense of comfort he can’t explain.

Even though he’s aware of the destructive aspects of the songs, he finds himself humming one now out of instinct as he elbows through squished bodies and flailing limbs. The second he notices he’s doing it, he cuts it off, focusing all his intention on making it to the other side of the room to the bar. It’s a hard trip when it feels like the walls of the building are closing in on him. 

When Harry finally breaks free from the Human Centipede re-enactment that is the club dance floor, he practically collapses onto the sleek glass counter. Death was less painful than that walk. 

He cranes his neck to the side wildly, suddenly remembering that his much smaller, much skinnier, much more crushable friend had been in tow behind him. To his utter shock, he watches as Mitch calmly weeds around grinding drunk couples with the poise and grace of a swan, filling the empty spot besides him without a single ailment in the world. 

Harry blinks at him blankly in silence, almost as if he’d grown an extra set of fangs. 

Mitch flags the bartender from all the way down the counter, not bothering to meet the green eyes peering at him in disbelief. “You’re so fucking dramatic, H.”

“How did you not die? Again?” Harry sputters, sight jutting all around the older vampire’s body, looking for any battle wounds or missing appendages. “I almost lost an arm in there!”

“It’s a good thing it wasn’t your favorite one, right?” Mitch smirks at his own lewd joke, the simper molding into one of genuine kindness when the mixologist slides up in front of them. “Hi, how are you? I’m good, as well, thank you for asking! Yeah, I’ve got something in mind. Don’t worry, I’m not one of the ‘just make me something sweet’ type of assholes.”

Harry zones out the rest of the friendly chat Mitch entertains with the employee, letting his gaze wander around the large auditorium-like room. He dances his vision over the DJ remixing music on top of the stage, head beginning to bop along to the beat that is currently shaking the seven foot tall speakers. He’s pleasantly surprised at how good this specific producer is. 

He continues scoping out the rest of the venue, taking notes of the different clusters of people that seem to hold promise for the plans he has in store later tonight. A small group of hippie friends here, a two-party duo of tipsy stoners there, and a clump of college students at the edge of the ruckus, stumbling around loudly. Things are looking somewhat decent, in his opinion. The hippies seem to be catching his attention more than the others— specifically, the one that looks similar to Stevie Nicks. That’s a fantasy that’s been waiting to be fulfill for decades now. 

Harry lulls his head forward again when he feels Mitch give a squeeze at his elbow, telling him that the bartender is waiting to take his order. He decides to go for the gold tequila, asking for it straight in a highball glass without any garnishes. The worker’s eyebrows jump up slightly at the unorthodox request, but he drops a polite, “Coming right up.” either way.

“You truly have no flavor.” Mitch tuts once their waiter has stepped away to prepare their drinks. “No taste buds whatsoever.” 

“Yeah? Well, you can suck my flavorless dick.” Harry chimes brightly, eyes crinkling shut as a result of a theatrical smile. 

The younger vampire goes to turn back around, legitimately interested in the girl he’d seen that looked like one of his seventies celebrity crushes, already running through scenarios in his head on how he’d get her into his bed for tonight. Weed and ABBA are probably good conversation starters for that, if Harry’s undisputed people skills have anything to say about it. 

As he’s rotating his torso, a blurred image catches his eyes. He does a double-take, honing in on a group of girls that look faintly familiar. He scans them carefully as they huddle around the corner of the bar area, laughing and toasting along to the multiple conversations they all have going at once. They look like the typical posse that would be a backdrop clique in a mainstream movie. 

He knows where he recognizes them from— it had been the same girls he’d spotted earlier up on the second deck.

Harry expertly surveillances each woman, picking out potential candidates as easily as he’d pinch petals off a flower. The one in the center of the group is obviously the leader, present in how she’s the prettiest and is somehow managing to juggle all of these interactions at once. It means she’s used to being the center of attention— probably strives under it. He throws her out as a potential; the last thing he needs is someone who everyone knows and seeks out. He wouldn’t be able to sneak away with her quietly. 

The rest of the girl crew all seem to be the same status-wise, appearing as supporting characters to the main one in the middle. He could choose any one of them blindly and it wouldn’t make a difference. They all seem so tight-knit, they probably share personalities, at this point. It’s like dipping his hand into a jar of jelly beans and they’re all the same flavor. That notion makes him laugh to himself a bit; maybe Mitch was right about his lack of taste. 

Then, Harry spots her, and all the other women immediately go up in smoke. 

It’s hard not to spot her. She sticks out like a sore thumb, but not in a good way. 

The prospective contender is off to the side, sitting atop a barstool with her feet tucked along the footrest, tapping them against the metal rung awkwardly. She’s talking to one of the other people in the group, but the interaction seems forced and not very satisfying, obvious in both of their faces. She’s tracing her middle finger around the edge of her glass cup distractedly, the contents inside barely touched, the ice in her drink long-melted. She seems disinterested in the chaos her friends are causing, her expression bored and borderline regretful, as if she doesn’t want to be here. 

The further he sizes the girl up, the more appropriate she looks for the role he needs filled. Since barely anyone is paying attention to her, that means he can lead her astray without too much resistance from her acquaintances, if any at all. She appears somewhat unimportant to the narrative— merely a background extra— and it makes him wonder what she’s doing with this clique of women that can’t seem to be bothered by her presence. It’s sad, really. Sad, but beneficial, because that means he can succeed in making her the supporting protagonist of his narrative, at least for tonight. 

The girl is attractive, but not anything astronomical. She’s unconventionally pretty in a way that makes her relevant, but not particularly distinct in the eyes of regular men with presumptuous standards. She’s easy to pass up, and if Harry hadn’t been actively pursuing someone of her bashful persona to card into his plans, he wouldn’t have noticed her. At the risk of once again sounding shallow, Harry’s aware that— physically speaking— he’s very much out of her league. His above-average appearance gives off the vibe that he’d fit better with the leader of the group instead of with her, but he doesn’t want someone that would raise suspicions as a result of their absence. This girl, sitting along the edge of the party with barely any purpose and no one to really question her whereabouts, is exactly what he’s looking for. She’s perfectly imperfect for the cause. 

Harry continues to examine her meticulously, analyzing other traits that can give him a better feel for her character. She’s clad in a pair of high-waisted pastel pink silk pants that stop right at her ankles, accompanied by a flouncy creme lace blouse tucked into her waist. Tan wedges, no accessories, delicate rosey nail polish, and minimalist makeup. The boldest thing about her is the brick red shade of her lipstick, which is easily shadowed by the sparkly sequin dresses, five inch heels, and layered tops her friends are wearing. 

Harry likes her outfit, though. It’s concise and safe, which he can appreciate. Yes, perhaps she looks like she belongs in a dentist’s office rather than a Los Angeles nightclub, but he thinks there’s beauty in simplicity. She looks cute, and that’s good enough for him. 

“She seems interesting.” Mitch’s soft voice snaps him out of his detail-hungry haze, drawing him back into the reality that is the black lighting of the club and the deep booming of the music’s bass. 

His friend slides his tall drink across the glass counter, the amber liquid inside warping his reflection. 

“I suppose so.” Harry answers passively, shrugging one shoulder in indifference while accepting the cup, ringed fingers clinking against the crystalline surface. 

He takes a leisurely sip from the straight tequila, its tangy kick sending a warm surge up through his ears and down his throat, spreading into his chest and along the trench of his tummy. Alcohol really is the cure to everything. 

Mitch gives him a deadpan look, the strobe lights alternating across the glossy surface of his hazel irises, highlighting smugness. “You’ve been gawking for five minutes. Put your pride back in your pants and go talk to her.” 

The curly-haired vampire flashes him a light smirk over the rim of his drink, absentmindedly tapping his two initial rings along the bottom of the highball cup. “Ever so blunt, aren’t you?”

Mitch scuffs, taking a swig from his trusty beer bottle. Out of everything, that’s the one aspect Harry despises about his best mate— that he goes to a club and orders the same drink every time. Where was the fun in that? Where was the excitement of trying something new? When you have an eternity, the least you could do is utilize it to your advantage. Cycling through every cocktail in human history is a prime example of making the best out of immortality.  

But Mitch is a creature of habit— as are most of their kind— and Harry knows he won’t shake easily. Not when it comes to surrendering his preferred beverage, and definitely not when it comes to sticking his nose in Harry’s intimate business. Meddling and being irritating are what best friends are for. 

“What can I say? Pep talks are my forte.” The older monster remarks sarcastically, bumping his bottle against Harry’s glass in encouragement, using the spout of his container to point in the general direction of the mysterious girl. “Now go make dinner.”

“But, darlinggggg,” Harry whines playfully, a smirk still tugging at the corners of his slightly liquor-swollen lips. “I made dinner last night. Isn’t it your turn?”

Mitch rolls his eyes and shoves Harry’s shoulder harshly, with just enough force that it actually has some type of impact this time around. “Just go, before she gets creeped out by your staring.” 

Harry’s own irises copy his friend’s actions as he pushes himself up from the bar, rubbing at the new sore spot on his shoulder with an exaggerated pout present. “Ow.”

Mitch blinks at him flatly, fighting off a grin. “You’ve had worse. Go.”

Harry swivels on his heel, once again facing the group of tipsy girls at the other end of the counter. It appears that most of them have dispersed into the dance floor, having found partners to entertain them for the time being, moving to the music as if there are no other people in the room. They had left behind three of their companions, one of which is Harry’s aspiring hookup; he gets the feeling that the two girls had stayed behind out of the kindness of their hearts, feeling too guilty to leave the runt of the litter all on her own. He hopes that’s the case because if so, the second Harry inserts himself into the situation, they’ll take that chance and split, leaving him to tend his meal in peace.

He tucks one large hand into the front pocket of his trousers, the grip on his glass tightening a smidge, rings biting into his skin as the condensation of the chilled tequila cools the small spike of pain. He spins his lionhead ring around his finger within his slacks, gradually drifting closer as he goes through a checklist of prized pick-up lines he could use to garner her attention. He ducks and dodges inebriated club-goers with ease now that he’s had something to take the edge off, finally reaching the end of the bar, slowly coming to a halt right behind his target for the night. 

Harry nearly passes out as soon as her scent hits him. 

It’s faint and tender and nothing quite like anything he’s encountered before, a mixture of honey and lavender that permeates through her normal perfume. He feels like his head’s been put through a wringer, his whole body clenching for a moment as raging sparks erupt across the pit of his belly. He indulges a deep breath, willing the blazing current away in order to keep his cool, but all he can see flashing before his eyes are images of her leaving traces of that smell smeared all over his face as he bobs his head between her quivering thighs.

He takes another penetrating inhale, centering his mind back into the present. He needs to behave.

Her friends spot him immediately, their side of the conversation faltering to ash. They give Harry a wide-eyed once-over, mouths parting in slight shock as they drink up his attractive appearance, gazes lingering along his thick chest as it strains the baby blue material of his tee. Their sights drag across his broad shoulders, dainty collarbones, and strong neck, faces gawking without remorse, blinking emptily at the slope of his sharp jaw and the peaks of his prominent cheekbones. They seem to be at a loss for words the second his dimples indent into place, his brows shrugging in a half-assed greeting before he cocks his head to side a tad, voice velvet as it directs towards the girl they had forgotten existed.  

“I’m guessing you’re the designated driver?”

Y/N jumps slightly in response at the new addition to the painfully dying conversation, not recognizing the heavy English accent and deep baritone that booms behind her. She had been wondering why Melissa and Isabel had stopped talking so abruptly, and she now has her answer. 

Y/N slowly goes to cast a curious glance over her shoulder and Harry can hear the pulse flaring in her neck from the sudden intrusion to her surroundings. His fangs prick along the inside of his bottom lip due to carnal instincts; he has to will them back into receding. 

 When her eyes land on the owner of the random words, her finger immediately halts its swirling motions along the hem of her glass.

‘Fuck.’ is the only thought that registers through her short-circuiting mind. 

The lanky, curly-haired brunette that stands before her gives a gentle yet confident smile, the gesture dazzling even in the low lighting of the atmosphere. He’s absolutely gorgeous, with deep pits carving into his cheeks, perfect teeth complimenting full cherry red lips, eyes the color of a rainforest canopy, and a broad frame that is somehow not overwhelming. He’s sporting neatly ironed tan slacks, a fitted cotton shirt with a cute yet crude graphic at its center, a fancy plaid coat, and crisp yellow Vans without a single smudge in sight.

Y/N can’t help but take notice of all the little details of his fit, especially the accessories. A beautiful pearl necklace laid along his delicate clavicle, a cross resting between his defined pectorals, and a matching earring dangling from his earlobe. Not to mention the array of clunky rings arranged along nimble fingers, hugging a tall glass carrying caramel liquor and somehow managing to dwarf the cup’s size. The extra decoration is sensual in such an unexpectedly delicious manner. 

The hand he has tucked in his pants ducks out to comb through his dark auburn ringlets and Y/N can feel her mouth water at the new round of elegant rings. The action activates the cologne Harry had thoughtfully spritz in specific pressure points along his body, the scent of tobacco and vanilla traveling through the fog-heavy air and causing Y/N’s stomach to summersault. 

The young man is as close to flawless as anyone could ever come. 

Y/N feels an unmistakable sharp pain shoot through her ankle, and she comes to the realization that it had been the tip of one of her friend’s heels. The reality check jars her out of the embarrassing daze he’d spelled onto her, open mouth snapping shut and her lashes fluttering over her previously unblinking eyes. 

“Oh! Uhm—uh—” She clumsily twists sideways to fully face him, swallowing thickly and tasting the remnants of the alcohol she’d barely been nursing. “N-No. I’m not— well, I don’t think…? We Ubered here so that wouldn’t make any sense ‘cause I have no car to drive...so...” 

The boy chuckles softly at her choppy monologue, his laughter warm and inviting, similar to the look reflecting off his shiney irises, the golden flecks around his pupils seeming to swell and shrink from the rainbow lights cascading across them. Despite being caught off guard and utterly embarrassed, she can’t seem to break eye contact with him. The longer she gazes into his eyes, the more relaxed she begins to feel, a fuzzy heat stemming from the center of her belly and spreading up her neck and ears. 

Y/N gulps heavily like before, willing her tongue to produce a less embarrassing comment. “Sorry. Let me...Let me start over…Hi.”

“Hello.” He quips back playfully, lopsided grin widening in fond amusement. He lifts his drink up a bit in greeting. “M’Harry.”

“Y/N.” The girl squeaks out, copying his gesture because it’s easier than forcing her disoriented brain to try and come up with its own. 

Harry flirts his intent up and down Y/N’s body slowly, checking her out without any subtlety. He wants her to know he’s interested. 

When his sight locks with hers again, he bats his lashes sultrily and pours as much passion as he can into his tone, accent weighing in just right. “S’nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Her entire face prickles at how her name sounds dripping from those faultless raspberry lips. She’d pay anything to hear him say it again. “You, too.” 

This is not what Y/N intended. This is most definitely not what she’d intended to happen when she’d reluctantly agreed to go out with some coworkers on a Friday night, giving in simply because she had promised herself she’d be more social within her new job. 

She had moved to California roughly two months ago, wanting to get away from her old life in the small, boring town she hated to call home. Buying the flight had been a drastic decision made when she had been under the influence of something she’d rather not admit, but the following day— after she had sobered up from a wicked hangover— she found herself not wanting to cancel the trip. Found herself craving the excitement and adventure of beginning anew somewhere far away from everything she had ever known. 

All of Y/N’s friends back home had supported her without hesitation, egging her preposterous idea and congratulating her on “getting the fuck out of here.” Her family had been a little less supportive, but after a few heartfelt chats about following your ambitions and a budgeting lesson from her cousin, they had gingerly gotten on board. They understood that keeping her trapped in that lame town where nothing really happened wasn’t the way to ensure her success in life. Therefore, the people closest to her had swallowed their opinions and respected her choice to dive off the deep end, in search of something better beyond the borders of their tiny city. 

Within a week, Y/N had secured a decent job at a semi-popular cafe, courtesy of a connection from a family friend. Within two weeks, after many sleepless nights full of Rocky Road ice cream and the bright white pages of ApartmentFinder.com, she had managed to book a nice flat close to her place of work. It was a miracle, if she’d ever seen one. Especially within the crowded, expensive community that is Los Angeles. Within three weeks, she had been walking out of the giant glass building that was LAX with only two suitcases in tow, boarding an Uber to her new life. 

Things had never seemed more picturesque, she’d thought. Everything was falling into place in a way that seemed almost blessed by the universe.

Then, the culture shock hit. 

California was different. It’s was so fucking different than anything she’d ever faced and she wasn’t prepared for the social difficulties she’d have to hurdle. All her life, Y/N had grown up with the same people around her, spending every school year with them up until graduation, expanding her friend group as time passed. Even after high school, she’d remained closely connected with most of her graduating class. The region she lived in was tiny, tight-knit and friendly; it was hard not to. She couldn’t even go to the store for groceries without bumping into at least three people from her Algebra II class. 

Point being, it had been ages since Y/N had been put in a situation where she actively had to try and make friends. She’d been through that challenge way back in kindergarten and had never been hit with it again. 

Until it smacked her across the head here in LA.

Y/N didn’t mesh well with Californians, she quickly found out. They were all about crazy parties and club-hopping, whereas Y/N had been raised on community cookouts and mass sleepovers. They enjoyed getting cross-faded and streaking down the beach at two in the morning, meanwhile Y/N liked stripping down to her undies and spending the night binging Queer Eye while stuffing her face with Cheeze-Its and Snickers bars. They freely boasted about their sex adventures while bussing down tables at the restaurant, while Y/N’s intimate life had been nonexistent since the move. 

It was just...startling, to put it lightly. It wasn’t what she had expected at all, and that’s mostly her fault for not doing the correct amount of research before jumping headfirst into a cliche LifeTime film. 

Therefore, Y/N had made a pact with herself one month in, swearing to let loose and allow her surroundings to sweep her into a new dynamic— into a new, social butterfly version of herself. She’d started accepting the invitations from her coworkers to go out at night, and she’d started putting more effort into being open to wild experiences, no matter how scary they might seem. Shutting down and refusing to mold to her environment would only result in her having to return home with her tail between her legs, and she’d rather jump naked off a pier than see her parents’ faces wracked with pity. 

And that’s exactly what she’d done a couple nights ago, at the encouragement of the group of girls she was at the club with now. It had, in turn, ended in her coming down with a mild cold, but at least now she’d be able to tell her friends back home a cool story about dropping inhibitions. 

Dropping inhibitions is also why Y/N’s here tonight, dressed in the most party-like outfit she could put together, prodding an overly-boozy drink into her system, attempting to release some of the tension that had been building in her head for the last couple of weeks since she’d left her old life behind. That’s why she’s here, with strands of her blow-dried hair catching on the dark red gloss Melissa has slathered on her mouth in a thick layer. That’s why she’s here, with synthetic smoke scratching at her lungs and drunken men and women bumping into her every two minutes, most of them too busy sticking their tongues down each other’s throats to realize they’d almost toppled her off her seat. That’s why she’s here, with a blasé expression plastered across her features as her coworkers talk over her head without a second thought, her mind far away from the walls of this overhyped horror house. 

Y/N had been thinking about how she’d just started her Disney+ membership, finding comfort in putting together a mental checklist of all the movies she’s going to plow through the second she sets foot past the doorframe of her apartment. Indulging on her childhood was an ideal form of escapism, in her opinion. She’s positive Walt Disney would agree. 

That’s what her brain had been lost in when Harry’s deep, melodic voice had interrupted her daydreams, sending her spiraling into an embarrassing performance of nerve-induced hysteria. 

Now here she is, blinking back at him dumbly, eyes the smallest bit damp from the smoke machine and neon flashes of light. And here he is, smirking at her over the rim of his glass, eyes raking down her wired up body suggestively as he takes a calm sip from what appears to be the straight tequila in his colossal, bejeweled hand. 

The English boy takes a gradual step closer to her, wanting to make sure he’s not crossing any boundaries that would make her uncomfortable. The scent of his cologne intensifies and she feels a fiery heat suddenly pour between her clasped thighs. It just hits her how long it’s truly been since she’s gotten laid and fuck, it’s sad.

Harry begrudgingly peels his attention away from Y/N for a second, aiming his words towards the girls standing behind her with their mouths still opened stupidly. Even from a respectful distance, his warm breath still washes across her jaw and cheek, causing electricity to zip down her spine. “You don’t mind if I steal her for a bit, do you?”

‘Yeah,’ Y/N thinks in the back of her muddled skull, ‘that’s definitely tequila.’

Isabel and Melissa slowly shake their heads in unison, glancing at each other as if to confirm he’d just spoken to them. 

The edges of Harry’s lips jolt into a kind, easygoing smile. “Thank you. Promise I’ll keep her safe.” 

Y/N feels her heart hiccup at his statement. If she’s not insanely mistaken, it appears to have carried an undertone of dirty intentions. God, she’s praying she’s not mistaken. 

The two girls clamber away on their tall pumps, rounding around Harry and pausing for a moment. They make moaning faces and vulgar motions behind him, encouraging Y/N to pursue the stranger. She then watches them disappear into the throng of crowded bodies, leaving her alone with the beautiful boy and her heart slamming against her ribs. 

Y/N focuses back onto Harry, licking her itching lips lightly, not knowing what to say next as he settles himself beside her. He rests his forearm on the counter along with his drink, tucking his other hand back into  his trouser pocket and fixing himself into a comfortable standing position, crossing his ankles nonchalantly. The friction between his jacket and the bar rides his sleeve up an inch or so, and Y/N gets a view of the anchor tattoo he has along his wrist, as well as the upside-down cross inked between his thumb and index finger. 

Harry catches her looking, mouth twitching with a smidge of arrogant self-assurance. He loves when girls drool over his tats. 

“I have more.” He remarks lightly, a pang of condescending pleasure shooting through his chest at the way she jerks and pins her gaze down to the floor. 

Blood rushes into her cheeks at the realization that she’s been caught and Harry’s teeth grind. It’s so hot watching her fidget for him. Maybe he finds her more attractive than he’d originally let on. “Would you like to see them?”

Y/N timidly coaxes herself into locking stares with him once again, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, barely nodding with a soft, “Sure.” 

She looks so pretty like that, he notices, staring up at him all doe-eyed and shy. It’d probably look even better if she were on her knees.

Yeah, he definitely likes her more than he’d thought. 

Harry proceeds to shift about, shrugging his coat off his strong shoulders, letting it slip down his lean arms and reveal the plethora of dark tattoos strewn across his left arm. Y/N watches avidly, drinking up every flex of his biceps under the black paint and every twitch of his pecs beneath his cotton shirt, the tendons along his throat going taut for just a moment. That moment is enough for her to etch the image into the back of her eyelids for the rest of her life. 

Harry tosses the article onto the table, extending his arm over its surface for her to get a better reading. She doesn’t miss the chance, her pupils tracing over every line and stroke of the pen, over every shaded area and meticulous detail. 

His voice comes out as a low, garbled murmur, his own irises studying her features with just as much intensity. “You can touch them, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

After a moment of hesitation, the brim of her crystalline cup is replaced by the ridges of his smooth, tanned skin. She drags her digits over the naked mermaid, tracing the curve of her figure and the dip of her tail, then passing onto the stem of the large rose, ghosting over every thorn and prickle. Harry can feel her heartbeat through her fingertips and it’s making him throb. 

“They’re very pretty.” Y/N whispers, allowing her touch to fall away, palm finding refuge across the counter. “Did they hurt?” 

“A bit, yeah. But I’ve gotten so many done that I think I grew numb to the needle after a while.” Harry answers, shrugging one shoulder to show it’s no big deal. He grasps his glass once again and takes a drawn-out swig, extending the action just so she can see the way his Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows. Once the cup is back in its place, his tongue peeks out and swipes any leftover liquid from his rosy lips, which then settle into a coy simper. “Plus, I kinda like the pain.” 

Y/N’s breathing stutters in her lungs and she swiftly swerves the topic onto something much less explicit. “So why’d you ask if I was the designated driver? That’s kind of an odd question. Very out of the blue.” 

Harry lulls his middle finger across the hem of his glass, exactly how she had been doing earlier, the motion weighed by an innuendo. She seems to understand it, present in how she bites into the inside of her cheek. “I just figured that a pretty girl like you would have easily found someone to dance with. So when I saw you sitting here looking all bored with your drink barely touched…I just assumed, I suppose.” 

And there it is again— the blood pouring into her face. Christ, if she keeps that up, he’s going to fucking lose it.

“Thank you, that’s— that’s really sweet. Proper gentleman.” 

Harry runs his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes snapping to her tinted mouth for a second, establishing some sexual tension that he’ll expand on as they go. “Who doesn’t like a guy who knows how to treat a girl, right?” 

Y/N clears her throat softly, obviously phased by his forward compliment, but she tries to play it off. “To answer your question, I— uhm...I’m not really one for the club scene, I guess. Don’t really like it, but I didn’t want to be rude and turn down the invitation.” 

‘Good girl,’ Harry thinks, silently cheering her on for having more brain cells than the typical human. 

“Well, that’s where we share some common ground, then.” He chimes brightly, a soft smile bringing his dimples to life. “I don’t care for clubs, either, but my friends have an affinity for them so here I am.”

He gestures vaguely towards the general direction where he’d left Mitch, continuing his rant. “The choking smoke, the annoying strobe lights, the crowded floor, the drunk morons—”

“Bumping into you without giving a shit.” Y/N finishes his sentence, her vulgarity drawing a boyish giggle from her companion and now she’s convinced she’d do anything to hear him laugh like that again. “And there’s always a faint smell of vomit coming from somewhere.”

Harry slaps his hand down against the glass table in passionate agreement, voice pitching up slightly as his brows jump in emotion. “Right?! It’s fucking disgusting. Don’t understand how anyone could genuinely enjoy it.” 

Y/N nods vehemently, sharing the same expression of utter distaste towards the subject. “It honestly doesn’t make any sense to me, either. Why come here when you can go to, like, a nice bar somewhere, y’know?”

Harry blinks at her in astonishment, her opinion mirroring his own with psychic-like accuracy. “My thoughts exactly.” 

“Great minds think alike.” Y/N responds playfully, taking a hearty gulp from her drink since the first time he’d spotted her from across the room. 

After a comfortable pause, Harry speaks up, also entertaining another sip from his own drink, which is now nearly empty. “Are you from around here?”

She can’t be. Rarely anyone born and raised here is willing to bash the status quo, and never so openly. 

She’s once again mesmerized by the attractiveness of his rings, but manages to get her composure in check. “Kinda. I moved here about two months ago.” 

Precisely his point.

Harry releases a curious hum over the cup between his lips. “Let me be the one to officially welcome you to Cali, then! Where people go to shitty clubs for fun and tan themselves into a strip of leather.”

Y/N sputters out a half-suppressed giggle and Harry’s brows almost furrow at the weird fluttering in his stomach. He rarely gets it.

Y/N takes another deep gulp of what he thinks is probably an Old Fashioned, silently praising the way she’d finished it off so quickly. She crunches an ice shard between her teeth and lets it melt across her tongue before engaging again. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here either though, are you?”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to chuckle a bit and she fights off an endeared smile. 

“What gave it away?” He asks, purposefully doing a thicker, fuller accent, his teasing nature making the grin she’d just stifled fully break through.

Y/N lifts a shoulder offhandedly. “Your accent seems a little too…posh for this area. Or even this hemisphere.”

Harry scoffs softly, the pinky around his glass sticking up jokingly as he kinks an eyebrow at her, a few rouge curls falling across his forehead. “Keen ears, mate.”

Y/N lifts her drink up a bit with a playfully knowing air, mimicking an English dialect. “Cheers.”

He places his empty cup down on the counter, his middle finger once more ghosting around the edge absentmindedly. She notices the pastel yellow polish covering his nails, tiny black smiley faces decorating the lacquer.

“I like your nails.” She admires, tipping her empty lowball towards his hand for significance. “Did you do them yourself?”

Harry glances at his fingers, stretching and wiggling them out, his features taking on a bit of pride. “Sure did.” 

“Don’t think I’ve ever met a guy at a club who could pull off nail polish so easily.” 

The left edge of his lips flicks upwards. “How do you mean?”

Y/N’s gaze bounces back to his and the tone twirling in his jade irises tells her everything she needs to know about keeping this conversation going: he enjoys being praised. 

She chooses her next words carefully, wanting to appeal to his interests. “I mean that it looks amazing on you. The color suits your skin nicely, makes your hands look good.” 

Harry breaks eye contact, glimpsing down at his shoes and she realizes he’s actually trying to hide a blush. The fact that she had managed to coax one out of him boosts her confidence while simultaneously making his own waver. He’s never like this— never so easily flustered. He needs to get it together.

Harry tilts his chin back up, lower lip strung between his two front teeth. His voice comes out as a flirty laugh.

“Known you for maybe,” he looks at the beautiful watch on his wrist symbolically, “ten minutes, and you’re already stroking my ego just the way I like it. I think that’s a record.” 

Y/N doesn’t know if it’s the liquor she’d just consumed too quickly, or if it’s Harry’s intoxicatingly alluring scent dulling the region of her brain that controls fear, but she’s suddenly filled with a strange surge of courage and her thoughts are spilling down her semi-numb tongue before she can stop them. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good at stroking, so an ego’s not too hard to handle.”

Harry cocks an eyebrow, surprised at her brazen reply. He might have misjudged her more than he assumed. However, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy this girl more than the one he thought he was going to receive. There’s just something about how she can match his banter without a problem, and how they share a lot of the same thoughts and opinions, that just lights a fire in his stomach. 

“Is that so?” His voice lowers in pitch and he scoots a step closer, fingers just barely brushing against her arm as he repositions himself against the bar. His question comes out as a sultry murmur. “What else can you handle?”

Y/N knows that she’s starting to cross a line, and with every passing moment, the likelihood of returning to her friends is getting smaller and smaller. She’s not mad about it. Riding off of the wave of confidence that had inflated her ego earlier, she mumbles her response back with the same tone and texture. “How about you buy me another drink and then maybe you’ll find out?”

Harry gives her a boyish grin and the indents that pop into his cheeks nudge his appearance from an incredibly attractive man to an adorable cheeky boy. He motions to the bartender for another round of drinks, only letting his eyes flicker away from her for the moment it takes to do it. “How do you like LA so far?”

“It’s...alright.” It’s Y/N’s turn to move closer to him now, flicking her hair off her shoulder, hoping that the motion releases the perfume she’d dabbed on her neck while getting ready. Judging by the darkening of Harry's eyes, it does just that. “It’s definitely a change in pace from where I used to live, but I think I’m slowly gaining the reigns. I feel like once I get acquainted, I could grow to love it.”

“LA’s definitely a toggle. You could either vibe with it, or it’ll eat you alive and spit you back out.” 

She bats her lashes at him in stunned fright at his bluntness, his face deadly serious without any twitch or give. 

Harry then bursts into high-pitched laughter, eyes crinkling shut and nose scrunching. “I’m just fucking with you, love. Ease up, hm?”

“You asshole!” Y/N exhales grandly, half in relief and half in indignation, slugging him on the shoulder. All she feels is hard muscle beneath. 

He continues to cackle, sticking his tongue out at her. “Looked like you were about to cry.” 

“It definitely crossed my mind, yeah!”

The bartender arrives with their fresh drinks and Harry tells the man to but both of Y/N’s on his tab. She feels her cheeks glow, telling him he doesn’t have to, but he waves it off and says he’s more than happy to serve such a nice girl as herself. Especially if she “hates the same things I do. Think of it as your initiation gift into the Anti-Club Club.” 

A handful of heartbeats tick by, full of comfortable quietness as they both savor their new beverages. Harry pipes up first, regaining their topic from before.

“But, yeah, Cali’s for sure a special place. You meet some cool people if you hang around for a while. But sometimes,” he pauses for a second, eyes gleaming with something she can’t quite interpret. “But sometimes you can meet a really interesting person in just one night.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” Y/N clicks her nails against her Old Fashioned distractedly as Harry fixes her with that beautiful emerald gaze that makes her ears tingle. She cocks her head to the side knowingly, flashing him a soft smirk. “Sometimes, you just happen to meet that one in a million.”

“A lucky strike.” He adds, lifting his tequila an inch off the counter and tilting it towards her in what appears to be a toast, irises dancing with a certain type of suggestive mischief. “To meeting interesting people.”

The human girl clinks the rim of her lowball to the edge of his cup, shrugging her brows and reciting his comment back to him. “To meeting interesting people.” 

Y/N measures how the rest of their interaction goes by how quickly her drink shrinks. 

When she reaches down to the first ice cube stacked on top, Harry has managed to coax multiple rounds of laughter out of her, his humor startlingly similar to her’s in the most refreshing way imaginable. She quickly learns that despite his broad shoulders, lean torso, dark inking, and flawless features, he’s a complete and total dork. His personality consists mainly of voice impersonations and contorting his expression into an endless array of silly faces, which she takes to easily.

By the time Y/N’s amber drink has reached halfway down its container, the default touch barrier between the two has broken completely. There had been a few caresses prior, but now it’s more frequent, more noticeable, and each touch extends in time. She had been the one to initiate getting physical, which had sat so right in her stomach because that meant he was respectful and patient— definitely unlike most men in clubs. 

The mortal girl had gently shoved Harry’s chest when he’d made an nonchalant joke about how losing his swim trunks at a nude beach had been both the best and worst experience of his life, her cheeks boiling as she had felt nothing but more toned muscle beneath the cotton fabric of his top. She had gone back to tracing at his tattoos the further they got into sharing anecdotes and opinions, glancing up at him for permission in the middle of their exchange and smiling to herself when he’d nodded casually without a second thought. As the conversations continue, they both unintentionally get closer in distance to the point where the arm Harry had settled on the bar is now fully wrapped around the small of her back. She willingly leans into him, their knees and thighs brushing with every shift of their bodies and those minute moments begin to pile up their excitement.

By the time the alcohol in her possession bottoms out, she is nearly sitting in his lap, faces only a few inches apart. Y/N can’t recall half of what she had said, the subject having steered into so many different places that she couldn’t be bothered to keep track. Besides, she’s too focused on trying to keep a straight face as Harry plays footsie with her below the counter, his light yellow sneaker toying with her heeled velvet wedge. 

An important question on his behalf snaps Y/N out of her flirty stupor.

“So how do you like your new home?”

She blinks at him slowly, partially to try and give a seductive tinge to the interaction and partially because the liquor has started to truly settle in. It takes her a few heartbeats to process the inquiry. “I love it, actually. It’s a place of my own, for the first time ever. I couldn’t be happier.”

The corners of Harry’s swollen lips tick in genuine happiness on her behalf. “That sounds amazing. Congratulations on such a big step.” 

“Thank you! What about yourself? Renting anything neat?”

“Oh, I own a condo here.” He mentions casually, outlining the criss-cross pattern along the circumference of his highball glass. “I used to visit so often that I finally just decided to pull the trigger on one.”

“Look at you, investing in real estate.” She says in a teasing voice, her heel grazing around his calf slowly, cheeks sizzling as he parts his legs a bit to allow her the pleasure of traveling higher up.

“Mmhm.” Harry licks his red lips, free hand starting to trace over her own. The tips of his fingers are calloused and cold, the motion of them over her skin almost pulling a tremble out of her body. She does her best to restrain it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “Is it nice?” 

“Hm?”

His lips twitch in endearment at how he’s managing to make her lose her train of thought. “Your apartment, darling.”

She rests the rim of her drink on the bottom of her lip as she speaks. “It’s nothing huge or fancy, but it’s a decent size and l can call it home. Can’t get much better than that.”

Y/N loves how Harry's eyes flit to her lips for what she thinks is the billionth time tonight, his vision sketching along the curve of her cupid’s bow and dotting every peak.

Another warm glow of confidence spikes through her veins and she’s talking before she can analyze her thoughts. “Well, at least I think it can’t get much better than that. Although, I could just be biased. Could probably use an outside opinion.” 

It takes Harry a moment to register what she’s suggesting, a light blush creeping up the base of his neck as he realizes how he’s stopped so abruptly. Humans usually never get him this unnerved and it’s one of many times she’s made it happen. “An outside opinion?”

Y/N lists her head to the side. It sounds like he’s accepting the vague invitation, but she’s so anxious to mess this up that she’s second guessing herself with every passing second. However, with every touch, she wants Harry more and more, and that’s enough to propel her towards a more direct approach. “Mmhm. Like yours, maybe. Would you like to come back and see it?”

Harry pauses for a few of her heartbeats, and then bobs his head in acceptance. She can breath again. 

He finishes off the last inch or so of his tequila, a wicked grin creeping its way across his pretty, flushed mouth, long fingers carding into his loosely arranged curls. “I’m more than happy to be of service.”

A smile works its way onto Y/N’s own face at his response, her foot dropping back down his leg slowly. “I’m glad to hear.”

“Mm.” Harry takes her hand completely now and she almost moans at how much bigger his are, his rings pinching a bit, skin rough in some areas, but silky smooth in others. And strangely icy, but she enjoys it. “Shall we say goodbye to your friends first? I wouldn’t want them to worry about you.”

He knows her “friends” couldn’t care less, but he wants to be as much of a gentleman as possible. Romanticize, romanticize, romanticize.

Y/N snorts, knowing full well that they’d probably purposefully embarrass her in front of him as a joke. 

She squeezes his grasp lightly, giving him a soft smile. “You’re sweet, but it’s fine. They were actually behind you earlier, encouraging this whole thing, so I’m pretty sure they won’t mind.” 

Harry hums deep in the back of his throat and the sound melts into a cute chuckle. “I’m glad they helped, then. Think you can deliver them my thanks some other time?”

The young woman chews on the inside of her cheek at his comment, realizing that it suggests he aims on keeping her occupied for the rest of the night and well into the morning. She has to will herself not to lurch forward and kiss at his annoyingly perfect lips right then and there. “I’ll make sure to pass the message along.” 

With one last cocky simper, Harry helps her down from the stool and pays off their tab, offering her his jacket since most of her outfit is made of flimsy fabrics. Y/N takes it appreciatively, lashes fluttering when his scent envelopes her like a blanket. It’s the unique smokiness from his cologne, mixed with a slightly sweeter smell that she assumes is his shampoo, and a bit of something that reminds her of a vanilla candle. The aromas are sewn into every thread of his coat and she can’t wait to have those scents glued all over her more deliberately later tonight.  

Harry turns and plunges them into the throng of partiers, weeding through bodies with a type of determination that makes her insides twist. His arm comes up in front of him as he plows people out of the way with absolutely no regret, leaving her to throw out a few half-assed apologies in his wake. The idea that he’s excited to be alone with her has Y/N’s insides churning. 

Once they escape all of the grinding limbs and tight spaces, stumbling into the cool air of the starry night, she takes a huge gulp of air. She prays it will tide over the jitters running along the inside of her tummy. She has just now realized how riled up he’d gotten her and it’s all coming to a raging boil. 

Harry paces past the bouncer, throwing up two fingers in parting. “Later, Brock.” 

The security guard gives the young vampire a confused look, not recognizing him at all and wondering how he knows his name. 

Y/N repeats Harry’s phrase for the hell of it, squeezing his hand jestingly and he glimpses over his shoulder, grinning at her with sheer amusement and something much deeper swirling around the specks of copper in his irises. If there was a bit more light, perhaps she would have noticed the way his irises had glinted blood red instead of olive green.

She ogles at the way his back muscles shift and flex below his pastel blue shirt, her mind vaguely taking note of the light yellow detailings along the cuffs and collar. The tee is intriguing and fun and she hopes he’ll let her sleep in it after they’re done. 

She also gets distracted by the baby curls decorating the nape of his neck. She’s itching to tug at them and see what his response would be. Would he shiver in her grasp and let out a soft moan, or would he smirk darkly and tell her to go harder?

Harry suddenly halts, snapping her out of her thoughts as he presents his car. Y/N’s jaw nearly falls off. “This is yours?!”

She gawks at the vintage jet black convertible before her, feeling like she isn’t worthy of its chic presence. It looks new, shining in the street lamps like a thousand diamonds, not a scratch or dent in sight. 

Harry unlocks the passenger’s door, opening it and guiding her inside with a gentle pull at their clasped hands, shrugging his brows playfully. “Hope it’s not too shabby for your liking.”  

“Are you kidding?” The human mumbles in awe as she ducks down into the patented leather seat, running her free hand over the elegant cover. She sighs softly at the way his smell is lingering inside the vehicle, just as much as it sticks to his clothes. “I feel like I should bow to it or something.”

He laughs fully now, leaning down to get a view of her sitting prim and proper in his favorite car, looking gorgeous in her flowy silk pants, lace creme blouse, and his own clothes. He gnaws at his bottom lip to withhold a needy groan. “I think you fit right in.” 

Y/N feels warmth erupt into her face and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to distract her fingers from shaking. “Looks like I’m not the only one that’s good at stroking egos.”

“S’hardly a task. You make it easy, doll.” 

It’s the second pet name he’s called her tonight— it’s strangely vintage, same as his car— and she can’t wait to hear what others he has in store. Preferably in the form of breathy pants and broken whines.

Y/N flicks her gaze up at him through heavy lashes, attempting to stifle a sheepish smile. “Quite the charmer.”

A moment of silence suspends in the air, a light breeze filtering through Harry’s curls, swaying the jewelry around his neck as well as the earring hanging from his lobe. Harry speaks up with a type of hushed desire she hadn’t heard from him yet. “Can I kiss you?”

She blinks up at him once in mild surprise and then releases a sigh of utter relief. “Fuck, I thought you’d never ask.” 

Her hand reaches upwards outside the confines of the car, knitting into the thick fabric of his shirt and yanking him down. The second their mouths meet, it sets off a dozen fireworks in the pit of her stomach. His is softer than she had imagined, wet and warm, and his tongue carries the sourness of the tequila he’d been swishing the whole night. 

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat, and then a quiet whimpery moan streams down his tongue onto her itchy skin. “Christ, that was hot.”

As much as she loves the taste of him— the tartness of the alcohol mixed with an inherent sweetness his lips carry— she forces herself to pull away, but keeps her sweaty forehead pressed to his. “Yeah. It was.”

With one hand still gripping the car door, Harry uses his other to cup her chin lightly, guiding her into another kiss. Now that they have both developed a feel for the other, this one is less tentative than the last. She tastes so fucking good on his tongue, like strawberry syrup—probably from her lipgloss— orange bitters, and bourbon. He just has to have more of it.

A helpless gasp escapes Y/N when Harry's teeth graze against her upper lip, only nipping enough that she craves more. More of anything he has to offer. 

He pulls away and the whine that plucks her vocal chords feeds his eternal soul like nothing else has in a while.  

The young man grins at her for a moment, half in smug satisfaction, half red-faced and desperate, before carefully closing the car door and making his way to the driver’s side. He slides in with ease, shuts his own door and buckles up with a click of the belt. The simple action has never looked so attractive before, but she’s certain that anything Harry does with his ring-covered hands would be attractive.  

He fishes his keys from his front pocket, asking her where she lives in order to try and orient himself. As it turns out, she’s not too far away from his own flat. He knows exactly which condominium she’s referring to without having to even search it up— a perk of living here for a few decades.

He also chuckles to himself a bit at the fact that she hadn’t mentioned he shouldn’t drive under the influence. Vampires have an extremely high tolerance due to their self-healing properties, so the drinks he’d had only gave him a soft, warm buzz. He just finds it comical— and slightly arousing— that she’s so eager to get at him that she’d let that detail slip her mind.

Harry starts the car, but doesnt pull out of the parking spot. Instead, he glances at Y/N as a crease appears in his beautifully sculpted brows. The idea of something displeasing him bothers her, and she’s about to ask what it is when he murmurs a quick, “Just a second, dove.” He reaches across to grab her seatbelt, pulling it over her body and securing it into place on her behalf, making sure it’s nice and proper before leaning back in his seat. He doesn’t know why he cared to do it, but he had. 

The simple action leaves another layer of heat on Y/N’s cheeks. Having him bent over her like that was just a teaser of what was going to unfold later and it already has her mind spinning. She can only imagine how much of a mess he’s going to leave her when there’s no clothes restraining them.

“Thanks.” She whispers, playing with the tips of her fingers.

“No need to thank me. Just wanna keep that pretty face in one piece.” 

He plops one hand on the steering wheel as he shifts into reverse, carefully backing out of his spot. His arm ducks behind her seat, head turning and veins chiseling into his neck. It takes all of Y/N’s willpower not to lean up and begin to darken his tanned skin with hickeys. 

Harry cruises up to the exit of the club parking lot, waiting impatiently for the turn signal, digits tapping away at the leather below them. Y/N can see him throwing pained little glances at her from her peripheral vision, obviously restless to feel her skin sliding against his. Each look causes the warmth between her thighs to swell. 

She’s talking before she can stop herself, voice bashful and soft as ever, yet full of boldness from the liquor she’d consumed. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to do something to you that’s gonna get us both killed.”

The tapping of his fingers halts and he cranes his head to face her fully, ignoring the flashing green arrow on the stoplight before them. 

Harry reaches over the center console, his nose dragging up the length of her cheekbone, causing her to squeak out a tiny whimper at the feathery sensation. It’s the first time tonight he’s touched her so intimately. 

The sentence he grits out next makes her entire body visibly shutter, his breath hot against her ear, damp lips smearing over her jaw as his oath burns into her flesh.

“And if you say something like that to me again, I promise you I’ll pull this car over and make you eat every fucking word.” 

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles series #vampire!harry #harry styles #1d fanfiction #1d fic #one direction fanfiction #one direction fic #1d smut #one direction smut #ysijwa #harry styles one shot #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles dirty fanfiction #vampire au #smut #harry styles blurbs

[clarste]

Since it's been a few weeks, what's your opinion on Chapter 8 of Arknights? Reading about your opinion on other pieces of Arknights has been very nice so far.

I find this enemy description inordinately amusing so I will start with this before going to spoilers below the break.

1) First of all I am a sucker for flashbacks following the villain, so the basic structure of Chapter 8 was right up my alley. Even if Talulah's arc was more or less predictable—who among us did not expect Alina to die? I think some people might feel that it was a little too long, but honestly I think it said everything it needed to say and frankly there is nothing more important the chapter could have said. If anything, the parts that weren't about Talulah would be first on my chopping list if I were editing this story down. In particular, the whole bit with Kal'tsit and the sarcophagus and all that had almost nothing to do with the themes of this chapter or the Reunion arc, so they seemed especially superfluous. Even if that story might have been interesting told on its own.

2) Talulah. The main character of this chapter, obviously. I think there are two different angles to approach her from that seem almost mutually exclusive, which are that A) she is a tragic figure who started with noble ideals but was pushed to her limits until she became a ruthless shell of her former self and B) she is literally possessed by Kaschey, ie: the Deathless Black Snake, who is the immortal spirit of Imperialism manipulating the country of Ursus into a constant state of war. From what I've seen of people’s reactions, I think most people focus more on angle B, which makes sense because that is literally true in the story, but what I took from it is that it's a lot more ambiguous than that.

What I mean is that the story is constantly emphasizing that the Deathless Black Snake can only take action as long as Talulah agrees with it. It's more insidious than just an external ghost taking control of her (and thereby freeing her of responsibility for her actions), it's a philosophy that was planted in her by her mentor, a way of thinking, an idea. A living meme. So when I say that it's the immortal spirit of imperialism, I don't mean that as a joke, it is the embodiment of imperialism itself, of imperialist ideals and goals, manifested in this particular person the moment she starts seeing her enemies as obstacles to be eliminated instead of people with their own motivations. I certainly don't think that the trigger for the transformation was set arbitrarily, that's just Who She Needed To Be in order to buy into the ideas that Kaschey and the Snake had taught her from a young age. It’s also an ancient god taking physical control over her, but hey, it's fantasy.

Ultimately, we didn't defeat the Deathless Black Snake in battle, we just gave Talulah second thoughts. And she will live with what she's done for the rest of her life.

3) Amiya. In this chapter, more than anywhere else, it's clear that Amiya is the main character of Arknights. Sure, we have whatever Kal'tsit is plotting, and whatever the hell the Doctor is, but that doesn't actually matter. In fact, they spent this entire chapter walking around in the basement and never once interacting with Talulah. The Doctor shows up at the end with no idea what's going on or what happened, which is quite comical when you think about it.

By contrast, Amiya sees the big picture. Of the three people on top of the tower during the climax, only Amiya knows what both Talulah and Chen have been through, or indeed what she’s been though. What brought them all to that point. She is watching all these flashbacks right alongside us through her empathy powers. Which, as I've mentioned before, is really the best superpower in this setting: the power to see the world through someone else's eyes, and to feel the pain that drives them. And we, the players, feel what she feels. In a certain sense, she's even more of a player avatar here than even the Doctor, which I mean in the best possible way.

And of course her empathy gives her cool shounen superpowers that are suspiciously similar to Emiya Shirou, but I will allow it.

4) Chen. Chen is honestly kind of the weak link here, imo. While of course we've been following her character arc since chapter 3 and I don't mind where they've taken her, it ironically kind of felt to me like she had no personal stakes in the final battle. Which is odd since the story seemed to be hammering that it's all personal for her, what with Talulah being her long-lost sister and all that. The problem (imo) is that her close relationship with Talulah is all Told-Not-Shown, and also that Talulah is being possessed by the Deathless Black Snake, so it kind of feels like she's being left out of the loop, both in terms of knowing the facts and also emotionally.

I'm not saying she doesn't get any good lines, or that her banter with Amiya isn't cool or funny, I'm just saying that what should have been a big emotional moment at the climax of the story just sort of fell flat for me, and I was left wondering "wait, why is Chen here again?"

That said, I did enjoy her bit afterward where she's like "you need to stand fair trial for your crimes, Talulah, but in this world that discriminates against the Infected, there’s nowhere worthy of giving you one." I feel that sums up the game's stance on these things quite succinctly.

5) Rosmontis. Rosmontis had sort of an interesting arc here because it separated her from Amiya and I almost want to say that was a good thing? While I thought her relationship to Amiya was one of the most interesting things about her in the previous chapter, it almost feels like it was preventing her from forming bonds with other people and becoming a more well-rounded person? I guess what I want to say that is that Rosmontis was being coddled, sheltered, treated as a child. While some would call her a monster, Amiya was always around to say "no no no, don't listen to them, you're cute!" And while that was certainly nice of Amiya, it feels like what truly made her accept herself was almost the opposite: being accepted as a monster (or rather, a person with monstrous powers) by people used to fighting alongside monsters. Being told that she's allowed to hate the people who hurt her, and to be ruthless to her enemies. That her own emotions, both good or bad, are valid. For the first time, she felt human.

What you'll note, of course, is that these aren't exactly heroic virtues, and in fact they're kind of similar to what Amiya rejects and what got Talulah into so much trouble? Honestly I don't know if I would say Rosmontis is a good person right now, but what she is doing is thinking on her own for the first time, and deciding what's right and wrong for herself. It sounds almost malicious to put it this way, but it's like Amiya and Rhodes Island were trying to mold her into someone she's not. In some ways the opposite of what Kaschey did to Talulah.

I don't think her story is over yet, of course, but I found it an interesting direction to take. Rosmontis is on the path to find her own justice, which may or may not align with Rhodes Island's.

Also, kitty:

6) W. Back when I was doing a write-up for chapter 7, I said that maybe she would have been better off being recruitable in chapter 8 instead of 7, because it seemed a little early in her arc for that. I was wrong. She wouldn't fit in for chapter 8 either. Honestly she probably shouldn't be recruitable at all right now, not that I'm complaining as someone who uses her. Just, you know, narratively she is not at a place where she would consider joining RI, and in fact she ends the chapter pretty much going "later losers, I hope we never meet again." Which implies that the W in my squad right now is like a totally different person who is either from an alternate dimension or the future, after a lot of character development. That's not like the worst thing ever, it just seems a little weird to have her right now. W's story isn't about Reunion and never was. It's about Theresa and Babel, which as of now we are still only getting little hints of. I'd be glad to see that story when it happens, but until then W's just kind of there.

7) Themes. For some reason, this one line in this chapter really hit me. While it's not literally true, especially if you count all the former child slaves or feral children and whatnot, it does feel broadly true that most of the characters come from middle-class backgrounds. Like, your Krooses and Orchids of the world. Kal'tsit goes on to explain that this is because RI can only really recruit in cities, and that rural Infected tend to get thrown into the wilderness on their own and have no idea that RI exists.

Interestingly, this idea also sort of comes up in Talalah's side, when it's revealed that Talulah is the daughter of a duke, making her followers hesitate for a moment. While I don't recall it being explicitly spelled out, the implication was obviously that she's not "one of them" and this might be a cause for distrust. But what are "they' exactly? Clearly she is in fact Infected, she made sure of that herself. But she wasn't abandoned in the same way her followers were. She had a choice, and chose to side with the Infected. Which is honorable of her and all, but it also indicates a fundamental disconnect between them because they never had a choice. She could've used her influence to hide her oripathy and be treated like a normal person (as we saw happened with both Chen and Patriot), or used her wealth to get sent to a fancy private hospital like Rhodes Island, with the latest medical technology and treatments.

So while the story focuses on the discrimination of the Infected, it's clear here that that's not really the only thing going on. Being Infected means little to those in power, while for those without power it's just an an excuse to intrude on their lives and make sure they aren't "harboring any Infected" or whatever. Basically the story starts discussing intersectionality, which I found interesting.

8) This is a good line:

#not touhou #arknights #chapter 8 #roaring flare #if we don't pick a name for ourselves we will only ever be called the names others give us

[aerialflight]

Fic Recs (cause it's always nice to give a shout out and get people into things I'm into rn)

[The Magnus Archives] (I recently finished the podcast and I fell into a hole for a while so here you go)

Sing a Song of Sixpence by Kaiel

Ship: Jon/Martin

In which Jonathan Sims is a Siren, and he fails to notice any new abilities granted to him by the position of Archivist. Or really anything about the Entities at all.

Takes place in season 1 featuring Jonah Magnus’s slow decent into madness

(The new mythology interwoven with tma's worldbuilding is so freaking good and I love how all the characters change and develop because of these changes. Also, f you Elias)

Along Came a Spider by Dribbledscribbles

Ship: implied Jon/Martin

Sasha James is the Archivist, as expected. Martin Blackwood is menaced by Jane Prentiss, as expected. Elias Bouchard weaves his web, as expected.

All goes as it should.

At least until something calling itself Jonathan Sims steps in.

(Web!Jon in this makes me want to weep, it's so freaking good. A pretty long, very excellent oneshot on what could've happened if Jon got taken by the web when he was a kid. And Sasha as the Archivist is ALWAYS so cool, we love her in this house.)

A Break in the Clouds by Ash_Rabbit

“I’m eight.” the kid sniffs as if eight was any different from four, maybe not an unspeakable horror then, just a regular horror. “And I heard that the Magnus Institute deals with-” his little nose scrunches, cute. “-spooky things.”

“Do you have a-” he cracks a grin, and then rethinks it as small hands tighten against their burden.”-spooky thing to deliver?” gods he hopes not, it’s bad enough when adults walk in and lay out all of their baggage, but for a child-

“There’s a spider in this book.” the kid says solemnly, raising his textbook sized parcel. “It ate Evan Pritchard.” a bloody fucking Leitner. Of course an eight year old would find a murder spider book. “This seemed like the best place to bring it.”

(I never thought about what the Original Elias could've been like AND NOW I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT BECAUSE OF THIS FIC. I LOVE HIM, HE'S COMPLEX AND HE CARES AND JON CARES AND THEY BOTH CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER. THIS IS THE CONTENT I WANT, OMG. Also, Jon being even smaller than usual is adorable, so cute. No wonder Elias wants to hug him, a LOT.)

See the Line where the Sky meets the Sea by The_Floating_World

Ship: Jon/Martin, Jon/Oliver Banks

When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.

(One of my all time fave fics in this fandom, no questions asked. I have reread this three times and am open to doing it again, god. Vast!Jon, such a concept. It's written so beautifully and the relationships Jon develops, so good. ugh. My heart. Please please read.)

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Ship: Jon/Martin

“Come in, Martin,” he says, not looking up from his notes.

“Hi, Jon,” he says, and Jon stops writing at the sound of his voice. “We’re out of the green tea, but we’ve got lemon?”

Jon looks at him. Martin smiles at him in his usual tentative way as he sets the mug of tea down on Jon’s desk. Heat spikes so sharply in his gut that he twitches with it.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says, mouth dry, and he stands up.

“Oh,” he says, sounding almost surprised. He smiles again. “No-- no problem-- um, what are you--”

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

(You have no idea how much I howled through this fic, my god. *buries face in hands* The number of times I wanted to cry from sheer hilarity and horror reading this good lord.)

Things Could Always Be Worse by theOestofOCs

Ship: Jon/Martin, Georgie/Melanie

Sometimes, the most horrifying thing of all is what might have been.

Somewhere, Jon could swear he heard a crowd laughing.

Or: in which Jonathan Sims is forced to swap places with his alternate self—a tall, chivalrous hero extraordinaire, who knows neither fear nor nuance—and is sent to the aggressively straight alternate universe the Magnus Archives was never meant to be.

“Whatever place this is,” Jon announced, “I just want to be sure it knows I hate it.”

(I will say this once, THIS IS THE MOST CURSED THING IVE EVER READ EVER. Like holy hell. I can't believe this thing exists. please read it oh please please please)

-

[Supernatural]

heard from your mother (she don't recognize you) by Schmuzz

Ship: Dean/Cas, Jessica/Sam

A man named Cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he's able to piece together a few things:

1. Supernatural creatures exist, and most of them will hurt innocent civilians if he doesn't stop them; 2. He has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; 3. He keeps running into another hunter named Dean Winchester, who seems to be about as lonely as he is if he's willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help Cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is.

For his part, Dean's still (not) dealing with Sam's departure to Stanford, and figures distracting himself with a bit of mystery and intrigue is as harmless as it gets, right? Right.

(THE fic I'm most into right now, been following this from the very start and it's AMAZING. Cas has agency and is making friends and S1 Dean is growing out of John's influence and is becoming a Person and the both of them first being friends then more. The slow burn as their relationship develops, SO GOOD. SO SO DAMN GOOD. *screams* Seriously one of the best spn fics I've read in a long, long time.)

anamnesis by cenotaphy

Ships: Castiel/Dean, Sam/Eileen

Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be.

* Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19.

(THIS IS THE FIC THAT GOT ME THROUGH THE FINALE OKAY. WHY COULDN'T THIS HAVE BEEN CANON. It's Disturbing and honestly plot-wise this makes more sense. Why couldn't we have had this. *screams*)

-

[Avatar: The Last Airbender]

where the stars do not take sides by WitchofEndor

Ship: Sokka/Zuko

When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.

Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

(The fact one of the tags in this fic is, "Sibling Dynamic: Fucked Up But Wholesome" should give you an idea what this fic is like. Chaotic as HELL and I just love Azula here, she loves Zuko so much in her messed up way and Zuko loves her back in the exact same way lol. It's batshit and I am Here For This.)

-

[Naruto]

Eclipse by AislingRoisin (JayBird345) for HybrisAnaideia

Ship: Nara Shikaku/OFC

"In life, it's easier to remain stagnant and wallow in your troubles. But life isn't merely about continued existence, nor is it meant to be gone through alone."

(This is a fic that's slept on and I NEED people to read this. A self-insert fic that I find really interesting in its approach and the worldbuilding for the post-third war shinobi world is fantastic. I feel like there's a certain pattern with self-insert fics, not that is a detriment in any way to how much I enjoy them, so this fic feels fresh to me in a way I haven't read in a while. I am waiting eagerly for this to get updated! Please read!)

On Freedom and Other Formalities by iaso

Ship: Kakashi/Genma/OFC

When push comes to shove, Hiwa Inuzuka doesn't go down easy. Reborn into a new, dangerous world? She puts her past life as a spy to work. Thrown into a war? Hiwa does her duty, for Konoha. And when she's forced into an arranged marriage? All there is to do is beat them to the punch and get married first. Thankfully, Genma Shiranui is willing to lend a hand. Literally. SI/OC

(Listen, LISTEN, it's about the slow burn, the longing, the communication (it both has and hasn't and isn't THAT great??), the messy way you fit three very different people together, it's so freaking good! Also, Kakashi is so Chaotic here this is my fave characterization of him, you can't change my mind. And Genma is a Good Boi who is Doing His Best, along with the Self-insert character who I LOVE SO MUCH, SHE'S FANTASTIC FNEIWOPAF. Sped past this fic in the speed of light, I could not stop reading!)(Honestly, read all of the author's fics, they're all really REALLY good!)

Building a Castle by WhisperingDarkness

Without needing anyone to tell her, Sakura knew that talking to someone no-one else could see or hear would make her weird. It would draw the bad kind of attention to her, something people could make fun of her for.

She didn’t like being weird, but she did like the voice. Her inner voice was helpful and it was a part of her that had always been there. The idea of it not being there would have been so much weirder than anything else.

It was during her first year at the Academy that Sakura realised the voice was not in her head at all, but that it came from a cloudy shape floating next to her.

(Basically a short-ish retelling of Hikaru no Go. Only with more Shogi and Nara and Ninja's)

(Sakura can see ghosts (I'm noticing this is a popular trope for her) and it's really cute haha! Her relationship with Tobirama is sweet and I just enjoyed reading this so much.)

-

[The Magicians]

So Long (And Thanks For All The Books) by IncompleteSentanc (Erava)

Ships: Quentin/Eliot, James/Julia, Quentin/Margo/Eliot

When Quentin is told Julia wasn't admitted to Brakebills, he realizes he has a drastic decision in front of him. If he tells Julia about magic, he'll have his mind wiped as well as hers. But he can't just leave her behind, either. He can't lose his best friend, and he can't let her life a life with her magical potential stolen away from her.

So he makes a third choice.

(Really, and I mean REALLY well-done canon divergent fic, this is the Quentin & Julia friendship fic I have been looking for forever. It explores so much of what could've happened and I just love Quentin here, I really really do. Characterization done so right. I also recommend the author's other works too. Been a follower of them for a long time, they're great.)

-

[Game of Thrones]

The Road to Victory by writing_as_tracey

Too late in preparing for the Night King and the Long Night, the last stand at Winterfell is close to falling. Bran takes desperate measures to ensure victory, and Jon, Sansa, and Arya pay the price for it in a time unfamiliar to them, on the cusp of another war. [GoT, time-travel fix it]

(I swear, this fic made me laugh so many times, all the Stark are BAMF and fantastic, and Rhaegar gets Wrecked lol. It's crack btw, and the plot goes in directions you'll never guess and it's amazing hahaha!)

-

[Haikyuu!!] (I am very very late to the fandom but here I am)

Ballare (To Dance) by MidnightSparks

Ship: Iwaizumi Hajime/Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, and platonic Kageyama & Kentarou (really love their friendship)

Kageyama’s first love is volleyball. His second, however, is ballet.

In one world, Kageyama Tobio is left behind by his parents. In this world, the existence of soulbonds keeps Kageyama’s parents in Miyagi and leaves Kageyama in the care of his grandma and grandpa.

(In which soulmates exist and that changes everything and nothing at the same time.)

(*buries face in hands* I have fallen for this ship so hard and I can't get out fudge me. I understand now. Their DYNAMICS FIEWONPAF)

Kings of Tomorrow by bokubroya (liarielle)

Ship: Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru

On the eve of Tobio’s 16th birthday, he counts down the seconds to midnight, and emerges with Oikawa Tooru’s name on his wrist.

It’s been two years since then, and Tobio thought they had an understanding. A silent, never spoken about understanding that this thing between them is nothing, and they’re going to pretend it doesn’t exist.

Of course, it’s just like Oikawa to change the game and leave Tobio wondering what comes next.

(I am WEAK for soulmate fics between these two, I don't even really like soulmate fics half the times what is WRONG WITH ME-)(Please suffer with me, I'm begging you. Its a good fic, thumbs up.)

-

[Crossover]

Honey and Magic by JustARatherVerySillyWriter, White_Squirrel for Super Carlin Brothers

Fandoms: Matilda (yeah you read that right), Harry Potter

Everyone knew Matilda was a rather extraordinary child, but even she didn't know she was a witch. Matilda Honey receives her Hogwarts letter in the year of the Triwizard Tournament, and soon, she will leave her unique mark on the magical world.

(Do I even need to explain how amazing it is to have Matilda in the wizarding world? And Matilda is a HUFFLEPUFF AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL THIS FIC IS GREAT PLEASE READ!!!)

An Eye for an Eye by DpsMercy

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale

In which Jonathan Sims is not from the UK but instead, if you took his origins and turned them sideways twice then flipped them over, he technically would be from the US, the town of Night Vale specifically. Elias can’t do shit about it and gets a headache and slowly creeping madness instead.

(Look, I know probably everyone has read this because if they haven't, what have you been DOING with your lives??? Jon interning at Night Vale is Incredible, nothing phases this man, it's Delightful. I laughed so many times reading this, I'm not even kidding right now. Read or perish.)

The Favour by R_Cookie

Fandoms: Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Ship: Original Percival Graves/Harry Potter

Percival is ten years old when his grandfather tries to tell him that he's ensured the greatness of the Graves legacy for him, that he ought to be eternally grateful - but the explanation is hijacked by a stranger who manages to intimidate Chester Graves with an ease never seen before.

or: Hadrian (Harry) Potter is the Master of Death, who grants Graves a boon. Nobody could have known that the Deathly Hallows didn't turn you so much into the 'Master of Death' as into the anthropomorphic personification of Death. And so, Death becomes Percival's guardian angel, and Percival does not spit out his cereal.

(Look, I don't know how I stumbled back into the FBAWTFT fandom either, it just happened and I'm grateful for that. Otherwise, I wouldn't have found this amazing fic. Their relationship is slow and strange and I just love how Percival is characterized here. Also, one of the tag promises that it deviates from canon so I am really, really excited for that! XD)

baby that's what i do by natanije

Fandoms: Naruto, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!

"Are you telling me," Hidan exclaims, incredulous, "that you collect money all this time to give to orphans?!"

Kakuzu pauses. He blinks a few times.

"Huh. I guess I do."

(Tsuna reincarnates as Kakuzu and it's HILARIOUS. HE'S SUCH A MOM HAHAHA)

#Fanfiction #AO3 #Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Podcasts #The Magnus Archives #Supernatural #Avatar The Last Airbender #Naruto #The Magicians #Game of Thrones #Haikyuu!! #Crossover #Matilda #Welcome to Night Vale #Harry Potter #Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them #Katekyou Hitman Reborn

[curligurl0896]

So getting to read @thejakeformerlyknownasprince 's FMA AU reminded me of my own ideas for a FMA/Animorphs fic. A crossover, in this case, a Megamorphs of sorts (complete with rotating narration) because I really want an excuse to have the Animorphs interact with the characters of the FMA universe. I don't have enough ideas worked out to confidently write a whole fanfic yet, so I think I'll just share some of my ideas so that at least they don't stay inside my head forever like the vast majority of ideas that I either never finish enough to post it or just never get around to at all, especially when my brain is always generating new plot bunnies instead of focusing on developing the ones I already have, it's so distracting lol

(Also maybe y'all could give some suggestions if you wanna, I'd definitely appreciate it lol)

Anyway, here it is:

First off, the answer as to how exactly the Animorphs end up in the FMA universe: I was kicking around a few ideas for this, and was originally thinking something along the lines of like, a freak accident that somehow results in them ending up in front of the Gate of Truth, but I think a better idea would be for an alchemist (or perhaps even several alchemists) to end up in the Aniverse, get Yeerkified, and the Yeerk (or Yeerks, as it may be), intrigued by the memories and knowledge of an alternate Earth where you can manipulate matter and shape it according to your will with nothing more than a well drawn chalk circle (or even less than that if you've been through the Gate, as the Yeerk(s) will eventually discover), lured in by the idea of a legendary object that supposedly can be used to circumvent a pesky little law known as Equivalent Exchange, decides to pull something of a "Tom's Yeerk and his Yeerk buddies a la book 52" deciding to start their own colony in the FMAverse where they won't have to answer to the Council of Thirteen or the Visserarchy (well, at least the ones higher ranked than the Yeerk in charge, who, I imagine, would have to be a Sub-Visser at the very least to have the power to arrange all this) in addition to being able to use alchemy, which, much like the morphing power, can be used for a massive variety of things, ranging from merely convenient to pretty damn useful in a pinch to OP as fuck to even just downright terrifying.

It takes a lot of time and meticulous planning, of course, as they have to find a way to transport the Yeerks, their ship, and all the other stuff they'll need to thrive over there through the Gate and into the FMAverse-- all while in a universe where alchemy flat out doesn't work. The Yeerks have to figure out how to get around that issue, and it takes at least a year of research and using their new hosts' alchemical knowledge to work out a solution, but they work it out, and soon enough they get everything set up and ready to go. At some point, the Chee find out about this secret unknown project going on, inform the Animorphs about it, and Jake decides that they should at least check it out on the off chance that it's something big.

That's where the story officially starts: with our team of traumatized teenage shapeshifters at the location where this thing is being set up (haven't figured out the where yet). They've spent the past several days spying on these Yeerks, but still aren't sure what exactly is going on-- they keep talking about opening a gate-- and aren't sure if it's worth it. Marco's convinced the whole thing is ridiculous, especially after overhearing a human Controller mention something about a "Philosopher's Stone" ("What is this, Harry Potter? Are they gonna wave wooden sticks around and yell in Latin?") . Rachel is bored at this point, and just wants to kick ass and call it a day-- they were probably up to no good anyway. Cassie isn't particularly keen on the asskicking part, but she's been having a bad feeling about all this that she can't shake, and Tobias agrees that something fishy is going on and says they should wait a few days-- after all, from what they've gleaned, whatever plans these Yeerks had would be set in motion very soon. Ax, being Ax, declares as usual that he'll just go along with whatever Prince Jake orders, though when Jake presses him about his opinion, he just says he isn't sure what to make of it. In the end, they keep it up for a couple more days, and sure enough, the time comes for the Yeerks to "open the gate", whatever that means.

After all the time they'd spent spying on the Yeerks, it is conveniently now, when the Yeerks are about to do their thing, that they're discovered. It quickly turns into a fight, and the Animorphs attempt to bail as they're soon overwhelmed-- and then the Gate is opened.

None of them had any idea what to expect next. They certainly weren't expecting the blue lightning that erupted around them in a massive circle, seeming to originate from the curving lines that had been so painstakingly carved into the floor. They aren't expecting the atmosphere to turn dark and purple and creepy, or for a giant grey eye to suddenly appear beneath them, or for wavy black tentacle arms to come out of that eye. And they definitely were NOT expecting to abruptly find themselves in the white void of Zerospace.

Only they aren't in Z-space, exactly. Surrounded by it, sure, but somehow they stand there, as if on solid ground, surrounded by the eerie blankness that had once nearly suffocated them to death.

Each Animorph is utterly alone, with nothing and no one else in sight. That is, until they hear a voice, one that sounds like several voices speaking in unison, and suddenly they see a figure-- or, more accurately, an outline of a figure, with only shadows to mark where the figure ended and the void began. The figure is shaped like a human in all but Ax and Tobias's case: the figure Ax sees is shaped like an Andalite, and Tobias's version takes the form of a bird.

Truth gives the whole "I am God, I am the world, and I am also you" speech, then informs them they can't pass through the Gate without payment. Suddenly, there's a huge gateway where previously there was nothing. Truth is unconcerned with the fact that these "A-ni-morphs" have zero clue what's going on-- it simply takes the required toll and sends them on their way.

Except the toll is literal body parts-- which, even then, isn't usually a big deal for an Animorph, but in this case it absolutely is a big deal, because, as they'll soon discover, there's no way they're going to just replace their lost limbs through morphing. It's expressly forbidden for one to simply have nice things in this universe; in other words, Truth isn't letting them off the hook that easily.

The discovery that they're not able to replace their lost body parts through morphing is especially horrifying to Ax, because, well, y'know... book 40. The one that every Ax fan, and really anyone who otherwise genuinely enjoys Ax's character, would like to pretend never fucking happened.

In fact, given Truth's precedent for irony when extracting payment from people who've opened/been through the Gate in the series, I have no doubt in my mind that Ax would end up suffering the exact same fate as Mertil. Andalites, after all, place high value on their tail blades, especially the warriors; it's their number one go-to weapon when shit hits the fan. Ax himself is such a warrior, in fact it's a huge part of who he is as a person. Needless to say I think yeeting Ax's tail blade would be the exact kind of twisted irony that Truth would employ.

He gets over himself eventually-- well, sort of. However, it takes him a long time to truly come to terms with it-- instead of accepting that the attitudes he'd been taught his whole life regarding those who aren't fully able-bodied are actually shit, I feel like he'd be more likely to double down on them, internalizing them, and actually go into full-on self loathing as a result.

He holds his metaphorical tongue, though, upon seeing that Tobias has suffered a payment that is arguably far more cruelly ironic-- given that Tobias is a bird, given that his initial attraction to the morph that eventually became his default body came from the sense of freedom and escapism only provided through flying, I think it's fairly obvious what Truth would take: his wings.

As for the others: Rachel has lost her arm (for basically the same reason Ed did), Cassie loses her hands (which she uses to, you know, help injured animals and stuff), and as for Jake... well, it was a bit of a struggle, the best I could come up with is the idea of him going blind much like Mustang did after being forced to open the Gate (though maybe not for the same reason, though... idk. If anyone has any better suggestions, please let me know lol, I couldn't think of any solid ideas for what body part would be ironic for Jake to lose). Marco is the only one who doesn't lose any outwardly visible body parts-- what he loses is his voice.

At some point, they are discovered, taken into custody by the Amestrian military, and eventually they end up in Colonel Mustang's office. Mustang listens to their story with a massive dose of skepticism. He isn't sure what to make of these bizarre barefoot children, nor their claims of fighting bodysnatching slugs from outer space by turning into animals, nor their wingless pet hawk, nor... well, he could only assume the other creature was some sort of chimera, although he had zero clue what animals could have possibly been used to make something with blue fur and extra eyes.

At this point, they're about to do a morphing demonstration to prove to the Colonel that they aren't completely batshit, when suddenly the door is slammed open, and a teenage boy with blond hair and sharp golden eyes comes sauntering in, accompanied by a hulking giant covered head to toe in a suit of armor.

The boy immediately starts shouting at Mustang, calling him a bastard and accusing him of wasting his time, to which Mustang responds by merely rolling his eyes and sighing, as if this sort of thing happens all the time (spoiler alert: it does). After a moment, the kid stops as he takes notice of the other kids standing in the room.

"So," he says, calmly, as if he wasn't yelling at his superior just a moment ago, "what's the deal with these fuckers?"

The casual use of the kind of language that would have surely landed them in hot water back home was quite shocking, but they don't comment on it. Instead, Rachel says, in a voice sweet as honey, "Oh, look, Marco. He's just as short as you are."

Before Marco could turn to glare daggers at her (come on, it wasn't like he could argue back in that moment), the boy goes absolutely ballistic, and the armored guy has to physically restrain him as he screams obscenities at Rachel ("The fuck did you just call me, you freakishly oversized bitch? I'll show you too-fucking-short-to-fucking-sit-at-the-fucking-table-without-a-fucking-booster-seat! Call me short one more fucking time, I fucking dare you to! You think I give a shit that you're a girl? I'll fuck that pretty face of yours right up, just you fucking wait--")

"Brother!" The armored guy cries. "Calm down!" Then, to the Animorphs: "I'm sorry about my brother's behavior. He's, um, a bit sensitive about his height."

"A bit sensitive" is the understatement of the century, but none of the Animorphs call him out on it. They're too dumbfounded by the sound of his voice, which sounds sweet, innocent, and, despite his size, sounds like it belonged to a boy no more than nine or ten years old.

And that's where I'm going to leave it for now, since I've spent way too long on this post already. I have a few other ideas, but mostly in bits and pieces, not really any more comprehensive plot points beyond this point. Please do let me know what you think!

#animorphs #fullmetal alchemist #crossover fic #partial outline #i really just want to write them interacting #and to talk about ed's staunch refusal to kill in comparison to the fact that the animorphs have crossed this line countless times #even cassie who's the pacifist of the group #but besides that ed and al could pretty much be honorary members of the team #even if they can't morph #i mean they definitely have enough trauma to qualify don't they?

[capricxs]

so you’ve been roleplaying for years... things change, the way the community does things shift, and sometimes there’s new skills you need to pick up and adjust to in order to make your time rping as creatively rich and fulfilling as it can be. one of those things that’s become extremely important is plotting & hcing. either in groups, in indie, or doing 1x1s, these two are the foundation to your interaction (unless you’re the type to wing it). sometimes when i interact with people, it seems they don’t really click with this process, so in the guide below, i’ll help to explain why these are so important, and how to do it in a way that not only gives you a rich plot, but helps inspire and keep your writing partner engaged with you.

disclaimer --- this is just my personal experience and opinions being shared. i am not the end-all-be-all on how to interact with writing partners. this is just here to get people to begin thinking about things they otherwise wouldn’t have thought about.

questions regarding this help post can be found here. let’s jump in!

WHY IS PLOTTING & HCING SO IMPORTANT?

firstly, rp has changed a lot since the days of launching into an rp or writing a random starter for a new follower. things are a lot more established and regardless of if you’re in a bio/skeleton rp with pre-written connections, or you’re in a new plotless group or indie and you’re coming up with them on your own, it’s a major foundation to your writing experience, so don’t treat it lightly!

secondly, regardless of format, and with the shifts in rp culture, behind the scenes plotting & hcing is crucial to the development of your plot & characters. as writers, we take more time with our replies so development on dash happens a lot slower. personally i don’t mind that, but i don’t want that to hinder my writing experience so i like taking things behind the scenes to help build up dynamics and situations so the whole relationship isn’t based off one or two threads/instances.

lastly, it helps to keep things inspiring. sound dumb? you bet, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles baby. so many times i have plotted ships, sibling relationships, best friends, or other core relationships, and wanted to sink my teeth in relationship lore and background and dynamics, only to be returned with “hahah yes! i love that!” now i understand this is never ill-intentioned, but it does suck the muse right out the situation. if you do not validate & expand on your partner’s ideas, it’s not going to make that writer’s ideas feel appreciated or loved. the way to tell them you love their ideas? sink your teeth right back and send an equally meaty response right back!

PART ONE: SO YOU WANT TO PLOT

you don’t need this post to tell you how to come up with plot ideas, that’s a whole different guide, but let’s say you’re in the brainstorming process. you’re throwing ideas back and forth based on your muse’s two backgrounds and seeing what sticks. what is SUCH a downer, is when a writing partner is just ... not contributing. yes, we are all guilty of the line “i’m open to anything!” but try and limit yourself to using that line once in a conversation. hell, i prefer it when a person doesn’t even say it at all and they’re HONEST. if i come in guns-a-blazing and i ask ‘what plots do you need filled?’ if a person responds with ‘i need someone who hurt my muse’ there’s two option, i fill that plot, or i don’t. it’s that simple. don’t be afraid to say what you want, the worst that can happen is the person says ‘eh, i don’t really think that fits my character’ and you come up with something else! but when you’re already passionate about the idea, you’re setting yourself up for such great success!

so what do you do when your one (1) braincell isn’t working and you can’t come up with any connection ideas? two options, you can either go to one of the dozens of guides for basic connection ideas and give your partner something, or you can look at the other person’s bio, and your muse, and try and find connections between them. both of these are painfully easy! i’m a personal fan of the latter as it seems a bit more grounded and juicy than the former, but those can be twisted into something great too! **if you’re in a group setting, even asking what that person’s other connections are, and piggybacking off of that. these create super spicy connections. example: you find out muse a is muse b’s ex, and your muse, muse c, is best friends w muse b, so it’s safe to assume your muse c will probably not get along with muse a.

this important thing is not to make your partner feel like they’re doing all the work. because that’s never fun, and truthfully, it doesn’t make that person want to write with you if you’re not also putting in the elbow grease. plotting is fun, not a chore! make it a party!

PART TWO: NOW YOU HAVE TO BACK IT UP

you’ve got your plot now, congrats! and you’re so excited. but now you need that plot to be fleshed out a bit. there’s some history there so you’ve got to establish it. in comes the powerhouse--- my favorite part to this whole thing: HCING. it’s the most laid back, and in my opinion, creative part of the rping process. truthfully, i enjoy it more than threads because of the absolute insanity you can dig up. but i only love it if my partner can hand it back just as i can serve it.

maybe you’ve never quite thought that this part was that important, but i can assure you, if a person is giving you 3+ sentences about the dynamic of your characters, they’re trying to hc with you, and if you don’t enrich them, your dynamic is going to wither away.

i brought up an idea in the first part of this guide that’s extremely important to how you hc with your writing partner: VALIDATE & EXPAND. it’s the idea that no matter how much or how little your rp partner gives you in terms of an hc, you respond to it with a validation, which can range anywhere from ‘i LOVE that’ to as simple as a key smash and the pleading emotion, or even repeating a fraction of what they said to show you understand their vision. but then you have to back that up with expanding on that idea. hcs could be about a situation or about your writing partner’s character, so expand on how your character feels and reacts to things. it’s beyond discouraging when i write a whole idea out, explaining how my character feels in this emotionally intense setting, and my writing partner only gives me the validation portion, and now i have no idea how my opp’s character thinks, feels, or interacts.

see, a point i mentioned above is the fact that threads don’t work like they used to. and that’s fine! but hcing is an easy and fun way to make up for the fact that we take time with our threads now. if you’re rping to find rich, in-depth, satisfying dynamics, it’s going to take many many months to get your understanding of your opp’s muse, and the relationship they have, hcing fast tracks that process. i’m writing with you, i love your muse, give me the dirty details, i promise it’s not obnoxious. the more your give back, the more you will receive. so why wait around, sitting on our thumbs for me to fully get a grasp of your character’s voice, and your character’s thoughts, when we could do that on chat and have a grand time.

but now you’re thinking to yourself: okay, but how exactly do i validate and expand? and for that, we go to EXAMPLE-BOT 3000 !! not a real bot, unfortunately, but example bot has dug up a personal interaction i’ve had hcing. for context, this is a 1x1 writing partner i’ve had for years. we have an excellent dynamic and they are perfect. they have also given me permission to use our convos as example.

here is my message [ CONTEXT: this is a sandbox-star-wars-esque verse]

Okay but I had a thot in the shower,,, where the best thoughts are had. And what if,,, after this meeting and they part ways and such and it was just another weird occurrence in their lives, blastis gets a mission and it’s either to protecc salia or like guide salia across the galaxy to do something smth and save some lives or whatever. And ofc not because she couldn’t take care of herself but he has smth she doesn’t that gives an edge or just a close loved one of her’s didn’t want to see her get hurt. So you have these two traveling across the galaxy,,, sometimes arguing bc she can manage herself but he’s just fulfilling the mission. And them both kicking but. And all the steamy tension and cliches.

let’s break this message down before we get into the response. first, hcs don’t have to be formal. they are the most fun when they’re less together and don’t rely so much on “sounding good”. you’re just rolling off the top of your brain, chatting like you would with a friend, don’t worry too much on formalities because this isn’t the place for that.

i am also presenting my idea in a way that is confident, and with plenty of ideas to work on. i am involving my partner’s character but not godmodding. i am taking things i have learned from character introductions (like salia being independent and empowered, and wanting to do good/help others) and not disrespecting them, but having her take part in the plot. there are also small bits at the end of this idea that are little nuggets to build off of.

let’s look at my partner’s response.

AAAAH okay i love the idea!!! however shes a v. freelance kinda healer and doesnt really take official things. and she doesnt have loved ones that would know if there was danger - she can telepathically communicate with her own people but if she doesnt want them to know things they cant just. force their way in its a Closed Communication line not an open invitation into her thoughts asdfghjsh. But i could imagine that some guy or family hire her to find their children maybe who were lost on their adventure/mission with friends and the last message sounded like one was hurt,,, badly. and the other cant help for some reason. and they hire blastis to both protect her and later the people shes supposed to heal??

but anYWAY the Important part is ofc. the tension. and his big ass in her ship bc why would she?? take another if hers is right there. so hes gonna take that single bed and not complain. but ooof those two?? just kicking ass and being amazing. growing on each other more and more.

right off the bat is validation. and validation doesn’t have to be as direct as it is in this message. the validation is important here specifically, my partner showed they were interested and supportive of the idea i presented, but needed the plot to fit in their character’s story better. we see them making adjustments--- this is a collaborative experience so i alone shouldn’t be the one coming up with the plot, nor would i want my idea taken just as is. instead they mold it to fit what makes sense, getting more specific than my idea with a “mission purpose”. this is where the bouncing off of each other begins.

they then take the “bait” and start building on the tension our muses will experience (this is a ship afterall). while this is the beginning of our conversation, and there’s aren’t specific moments we’re working off of, this is setting the ground for future headcanons (see: the focus on sexual tension, living in a ship together, kicking butt), we are both mutually giving each other little tethers to take hold of. this is a very good start to begin working out the dynamic and situations these two characters are found in, with multiple different launch-off points.

CONCLUSION

there’s no right or wrong way to rp. even the tips listed here might not be applicable to your style, just having the idea in the back of your mind helps. the important thing is you and the person you’re writing with are having fun. you both are respecting each other’s time and ideas and creating a beautiful dynamic or world or relationship. this is a collaborative experience, and it’s important not to leave your partner feeling like they’re doing all the heavy lifting creatively.

hope this helped! as always, you can send me any questions you have in regards to this topic HERE. you can find a tag of answered questions in relation to this topic HERE.

#rpt #rpc #rph #writing guide #rp guide #hc guide