#this is writing so i put it on my writing blog instead of my main like i did with the art | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jadevine · 4 months

Text

Preindustrial travel, and long explanations on why different distances are like that

Update March 1, 2024: Hey there folks, here's yet another update! I reposted Part 2a (the "medieval warhorses" tangent) to my writing blog, and I went down MORE of the horse-knowledge rabbit hole! https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/741423906984951808/my-post-got-cut-off-so-i-added-the-rest-of-it Update Jan 30, 2024: Hey folks, I've posted the updated version of this post on my blog, so I don't have to keep frantically telling everyone "hey, that's the old version of this post!" https://thebalangay.wordpress.com/2024/01/29/preindustrial-travel-times-part-1/

I should get the posts about army travel times and camp followers reformatted and posted to my blog around the end of the week, so I'll filter through my extremely tangled thread for them.

Part 2 - Preindustrial ARMY travel times: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask

Part 2a - How realistic warhorses look and act, because the myth of "all knights were mounted on huge clunky draft horses" just refuses to die: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/732043691180605440/helpful-things-for-action-writers-to-remember

Part 3 - Additional note about camp followers being regular workers AND sex-workers: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/740604203134828544/reblogging-the-time-looped-version-of-my

I saw a post on my main blog about how hiking groups need to keep pace with their slowest member, but many hikers mistakenly think that the point of hiking is "get from Point A to Point B as fast as possible" instead of "spending time outdoors in nature with friends," and then they complain that a new/less-experienced/sick/disabled hiker is spoiling their time-frame by constantly needing breaks, or huffing and puffing to catch up.

I run into a related question of "how long does it take to travel from Point A to Point B on horseback?" a lot, as a fantasy writer who wants to be SEMI-realistic; in the Western world at least, our post-industrial minds have largely forgotten what it's like to travel, both on our own feet and in groups.

People ask the new writer, "well, who in your cast is traveling? Is getting to Point B an emergency or not? What time of year is it?", and the newbies often get confused as to why they need so much information for "travel times." Maybe new writers see lists of "preindustrial travel times" like a primitive version of Google Maps, where all you need to do is plug in Point A and Point B.

But see, Google Maps DOES account for traveling delays, like different routes, constructions, accidents, and weather; you as the person will also need to figure in whether you're driving a car versus taking a bus/train, and so you'll need to figure out parking time or waiting time for the bus/train to actually GET THERE.

The difference between us and preindustrial travelers is that 1) we can outsource the calculations now, 2) we often travel for FUN instead of necessity.

The general rule of thumb for preindustrial times is that a healthy and prime-aged adult on foot, or a rider/horse pair of fit and prime-aged adults, can usually make 20-30 miles per day, in fair weather and on good terrain.

Why is this so specific? Because not everyone in preindustrial times was fit, not everyone was healthy, not everyone was between the ages of 20-35ish, and not everyone had nice clear skies and good terrain to travel on.

If you are too far below 18 years old or too far past 40, at best you will need either a slower pace or more frequent breaks to cover the same distance, and at worst you'll cut the travel distance in half to 10 or so miles. Too much walking is VERY BAD on too-young/old knees, and teenagers or very short adults may just have short legs even if they're fine with 8-10 hours of actual walking. Young children may get sick of walking and pitch a fit because THEY'RE TIREDDDDDDDDDD, and then you might need to stay put while they cry it out, or an adult may sigh and haul them over their shoulder (and therefore be weighed down by about 50lbs of Angry Child).

Heavy forests, wetlands and rocky hills/mountains are also going to be a much shorter "distance" per day. For forests or wetlands, you have to account for a lot of villagers going "who's gonna cut down acres of trees for one road? NOT ME," or "who's gonna drain acres of swamp for one road? NOT ME." Mountainous regions have their traveling time eaten by going UP, or finding a safer path that goes AROUND, so by the time you're done slogging through drier patches of wetlands or squeezing through trees, a deceptively short 10-15 miles in rough terrain might take you a whole day to walk instead of the usual half-day.

If you are traveling in freezing winters or during a rainstorm (and this inherently means you HAVE NO CHOICE, because nobody in preindustrial times would travel in bad weather if they could help it), you run the high risk of losing your way and then dying of exposure or slipping and breaking your neck, just a few miles out of the town/village.

Traveling in TOO-HOT weather is just as bad, because pushing yourself too hard and getting dehydrated at noon in the tropics will literally kill you. It's called heat-STROKE, not "heat-PARTY."

And now for the upper range of "traveling on horseback!"

Fully mounted groups can usually make 30-40 miles per day between Point A and Point B, but I find there are two unspoken requirements: "Point B must have enough food for all those people and horses," and "the mounted party DOESN'T need to keep pace with foot soldiers, camp followers, or supply wagons."

This means your mounted party would be traveling to 1) a rendezvous point like an ally's camp or a noble's castle, or 2) a town/city with plenty of inns. Maybe they're not literally going 30-40 miles in one trip, but they're scouting the area for 15-20 miles and then returning to their main group. Perhaps they'd be going to an allied village, but even a relatively small group of 10-20 warhorses will need 10-20 pounds of grain EACH and 20-30 pounds of hay EACH. 100-400 pounds of grain and 200-600 pounds of hay for the horses alone means that you need to stash supplies at the village beforehand, or the village needs to be a very large/prosperous one to have a guaranteed large surplus of food.

A dead sprint of 50-60 miles per day is possible for a preindustrial mounted pair, IF YOU REALLY, REALLY HAVE TO. Moreover, that is for ONE day. Many articles agree that 40 miles per day is already a hard ride, so 50-60 miles is REALLY pushing the envelope on horse and rider limits.

NOTE: While modern-day endurance rides routinely go for 50-100 miles in one day, remember that a preindustrial rider will not have the medical/logistical support that a modern endurance rider and their horse does.

If you say "they went fifty miles in a day" in most preindustrial times, the horse and rider's bodies will get wrecked. Either the person, their horse, or both, risk dying of exhaustion or getting disabled from the strain.

Whether you and your horse are fit enough to handle it and "only" have several days of defenselessness from severe pain/fatigue (and thus rely on family/friends to help you out), or you die as a heroic sacrifice, or you aren't QUITE fit enough and become disabled, or you get flat-out saved by magic or another rider who volunteers to go the other half, going past 40 miles in a day is a "Gondor Calls For Aid" level of emergency.

As a writer, I feel this kind of feat should be placed VERY carefully in a story: Either at the beginning to kick the plot off, at the climax to turn the tide, or at the end.

Preindustrial people were people--some treated their horses as tools/vehicles, and didn't care if they were killed or disabled by pushing them to their limits, but others very much cared for their horses. They needed to keep them in working condition for about 15-20 years, and they would not dream of doing this without a VERY good reason.

—

UPDATE January 13: Several people have gotten curious and looked at maps, to find out how a lot of cities are indeed spread out at a nice distance of 20-30 miles apart! I love getting people interested in my hyperfixations, lol.

But remember that this is the space between CITIES AND TOWNS. There should never be a 20-mile stretch of empty wilderness between City A and Town B, unless your world explains why folks are able to build a city in the middle of nowhere, or if something has specifically gone wrong to wipe out its supporting villages!

Period pieces often portray a shining city rising from a sea of picturesque empty land, without a single grain field or cow pasture in sight, but that city would starve to death very quickly in preindustrial times.

Why? Because as Bret Devereaux mentions in his “Lonely Cities” article (https://acoup.blog/2019/07/12/collections-the-lonely-city-part-i-the-ideal-city/), preindustrial cities and towns must have nearby villages (and even smaller towns, if large and prosperous enough!) to grow their food for them.

The settlements around a city will usually be scattered a few miles apart from each other, usually clustered along the roads to the city gates. Those villages and towns at the halfway point between cities (say 10-15 miles) are going to be essential stops for older/sick folks, merchants with cargo, and large groups like noble’s retinues and army forces.

Preindustrial armies and large noble retinues usually can’t make it far past 10-12 miles per day, as denoted in my addition to this post. (https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask )

#writing #preindustrial #horse riding #horse care #writing advice #medieval

7K notes · View notes

nothing-more-than · 9 months

Text

On a positive note! All my meds can be put through my J port, so I don't have to worry about them not being absorbed anymore. Instead of taking children's Ibuprofen and the dissolvable Tylenol packets, I'll crush regular pills and do those in my J port too, so I don't have to worry about it making me super sick.

I'd mostly been avoiding pain meds the past few days bc the Ibuprofen especially makes me really sick, so it'll be really nice to be able to take everything again!

#medical anomaly blogging #also i've noticed i use periods more on this blog. usually i leave the ends of paragraphs free of punctuation #(unless it's an exclamation mark). maybe this blog feels more... professional. official. idk #this blog has a Purpose #i might start putting all my medical anomaly blogging on here instead of leaving some on main #that way people don't have to blacklist if they don't wanna see it #they can just! not follow this blog! hooray #but at the same time. this is the feeding tube blog. where i wanna write guides and things #it's hard to find detailed info abt tubes online (at least in my experience??) so i wanna write Detailed detailed stuff #everything abt the surgery. abt the tube. abt flushes and pushing meds and the feedings etc etc #but anyway.

1 note · View note

croakings · 2 years

Text

this is news to no one ik but conglangs are SO HARD lmao it's even harder when you're being lazy......... the things we do for art

#*#complaining #I DONT EVEN REALLY NEED IT LOL I MOSTLY JUST NEED NAMES FOR THINGS........#but how would i know what people call things if i don't know their words for stuff. i ask you.#(i've come up with almost no names for the things i need them for in this process.)#(and today i've just been poking at a generator for hours trying to get shapes for an alphabet i have literally no use for at all #but will need 40-something-ish characters because i for some reason (heehee hoohoo) decided to make the writing system phonetic)#sometimes being a writer means you do almost no work whatsoever on the main body of the story and instead put all of your brainpower #into things that will perhaps show up in the background once or twice.#i could be using this energy to make maps but that's actually harder adjskdjs. also i hate all the websites #ANYWAY #wip blogging #I DONT EVEN HAVE A NAME FOR THIS STORY YET....... i've made up the history of the entire world i guess more or less and then perhaps 2/3 of #the actual plot. my most developed country is one that's basically hiding under a blanket most of the time #double anyway #im having fun going off the rails but also lmao. so much time in things no one else will ever see.........#also yes ik why being lazy is actually in many ways harder in language construction BUT i really am phoning some things in to compensate.#its fine. im fine. (my brain is melting)

1 note · View note

beegalactica · 3 months

Text

How to set S.M.A.R.T goals

Well, January's almost over... Have you abandoned your New Year's resolutions yet? Did you give up trying to work out for an hour every day yet? It's never too late to start fresh and a new hour, day, week, or month could be the chance to hit that restart you need.

It's great to be ambitious, but a hint of realism can make our goals more achievable.

S - Specific

What exactly do you want to accomplish? Why do you want to accomplish this? Get into the smallest details about what it is you actually want. Don't just say you want to 'glow up', what does this actually mean for you?

M - Measurable

How are you going to accomplish it? Break this big goal into little steps. If you want to 'get clear skin', how will you do this? Will you make sure you drink your water every day? Will you develop a skincare routine that you stick to?

A - Achievable

Is this something you can actually get done? Is this something possible for you? There is no limit in life, but if you make a goal that you don't believe you can actually achieve, you're setting yourself up to fail because your own belief is not there. Pick a goal and commit to it. Commit to the idea of yourself being able to succeed in whatever it is.

R - Relevant

Is this goal in line with your greater ambitions? Is this something that will help you become the best version of yourself? How will achieving this thing benefit you? Do you believe it is the best thing for you? If so, why?

T - Timely

How long do you think this will take you? How long do you want this to take you? Do you have the time to dedicate to accomplishing this goal? If not, are you prepared to make time to spend working towards your goal?

How I set S.M.A.R.T goals

Let's use the example of my Tumblr. At the start of the year, I decided that I wanted to start a blog. I didn't just write 'start a Tumblr blog' in my 2024 planner and leave it there, I wanted to 'start a Tumblr blog AND grow it consistently', but even this wasn't all. I didn't set a goal to reach x number of followers by the end of the year, but my main goal was to post consistently every week. I set myself the goal of posting at least once a week, instead of trying to post 5x a week because realistically, I know how busy things can get. I knew that starting this blog would help me improve my own discipline, and also allow me to help others, thus making me a better, more committed person. I was prepared to dedicate an hour of my time every week to sit down and just write. I've done this so far in January and hope to continue this for the rest of the year.

Instead of just setting goals in your head, try to put exactly what you want to accomplish into words somewhere for you to look back for motivation, but also to have as a plan of action to get it done.

#lifeblr #becoming that girl #girlblogger #girlblogging #it girl #self improvement #that girl #self care #goal setting #goals #motivation

663 notes · View notes

dollfaceirene · 2 months

Text

do better or stay bitter

So i'm finally off my blog posting break and i came up with this idea a few days ago so i decided today to finally write it up as a post today.

Imma cut it short and keep it blunt, some of yall do alot more complaining than changing and its like don't yall find it tiring?

Some of yall will come on apps to complain about "not being able to manifest", someone gives you advice or recommends useful posts and yall read over the post and never actually apply it to your own mindset/state and its like, don't yall find it tiring?

It comes to a point where y'all will be aware that you are re-affirming the same assumptions that simply don't benefit you and keep reinforcing the fact you are in a state of lack rather than actually taking time to reflect and affirm & make assumptions that are actually beneficial to what you want.

☆ lemme give an analogy,

We have Samantha and we have Jessica. Both Jessica and Samantha found out about the law of assumption around the same time and have recently finished their uni degrees.

Both Samantha and Jessica are currently applying to work at their dream jobs. Samantha, working at a bank and Jessica, working as a pharmacist.

Currently, both Samantha and Jessica haven't been having much success with looking for jobs as they either don't get any interviews or just don't get any callbacks.

This put Samantha and Jessica into a spiral of them affirming stuff of lack, e.g. "i will never be able to find a job" and since its their dominant assumptions, they are constantly shown in the 3D that they find it hard to get a job.

One day, Jessica was scrolling through her phone and saw a loa youtube video from a youtuber she subscribed to awhile back. She decides to watch this video and it gives a simplified summary of what the law of assumption is & how to apply it. She decides to keep affirming that she has her desired job no matter what was shown in the 3D. If she saw she didn't get any callbacks, she would keep affirming that she did have her desired job and that she was in control of her reality. Awhile later, she gets an interview to work at a private pharmacy and ends up landing the job there.

Meanwhile Samantha starts to overconsume alot of law of assumption posts, success stories, etc and never wants to apply the information. She always feels insanely jealous of people who have manifested desired things. She one days decides to do a mental diet however, instead of being disciplined with her thoughts & flipping any thoughts that didn't benefit her, only a few hours into the mental diet, she "quits" saying its too hard and that the law of assumption never works for her, even though it is universal & can be used to manifest anything.

the main point i want yall to get is that,

i) anyone is capable of changing their dominant assumptions

ii) only you can change your reality

iii) the law of assumption is neutral

Yall need to stop sitting on the sidelines while reading other success stories wishing it was you, newflash, it can and will be you once you've decided you have that in your reality.

Do better. Start that mental diet, listen to your affirmation tapes, do whatever helps you feel fulfilled or whatever. Stop going back to old story once you see something unfavourable in your 3D. Stop moping around how you "wish the loa will work for you" when it does! it works for everyone, you are no exception.

Be the Jessica of your reality. Be the one who identifies & decides that they have their desire no matter what instead of being the one who allows themselves to be the victim of their reality (which they can easily change) *cough, cough* Samantha.

Words of comfort: i just want to close off this post by saying i know alot of the time, circumstances can be so overwhelming that its so hard to affirm against it and can just be so frustrating at times. I hope you find peacr & comfort in your reality and wishing you all the best <3 rooting for yall, you can do this :)

stay limitless, xoxo irene

#desired reality #law of assumption #shifting #dollfaceirene #loa tumblr #loa #manifestation #loa blog #loassumption #neville goddard #affirmyourreality #affirmations #affirm and persist #affirmdaily #affirmyourlife

209 notes · View notes

lilisettean · 3 months

Text

Unspoken Rivalry | Zayne/Reader + Implied!Caleb/Reader

About: Ever since that incident, you rarely mentioned Caleb to anyone. So when you suddenly brought him up while in the fitting room with Zayne, his curiosity was piqued, albeit unwillingly.

Pairings: Zayne/Reader, Implied!Caleb/Reader

Notes: Sorry for repost and not smut haha. Decided to put all my L&DS writings here on this sideblog instead of my main blog because I didn't want to muddle things up. Anyway got this idea when Zayne was surprised at MC knowing how to tie a tie and I was like, HMMM maybe because she had practice with Caleb??? But nope the game went the other way.

AO3: Read here!

Warning: Implied love triangle.

“I’m shocked. I didn’t expect you to be good at tying a tie.”

You inspected the black tie you had selected for Zayne for a moment, nodding in approval at your own tastes.

“Why, of course.” You said with a smile, glancing at him before directing him to face the full length mirror before you two. “I had a lot of practice.”

“Practice?”

“Caleb.” Zayne raised his eyebrows at the sudden mention of that name; your mutual childhood friend who had sadly passed away months prior. You rarely mentioned him nowadays, so to hear his name slip past your lips without anything prompting was a surprise.

“I… I used to do his tie for him before we went to school.” You whispered, fond memories of you tying his school tie while you complained about him not doing it himself surfaced. It felt like it was just yesterday when you complained about his odd request of making you do this every school day morning, but now…

“I’m sure he’s capable of doing it himself.” Zayne remarked, careful with his choice of words. He eyed you through the mirror, pointedly ignoring the sting of jealousy that made itself known when he saw you smiled wistfully.

You shook your head and looked ahead, eyes unseeing and absorbed in those innocent, carefree days where everything was still normal. “He said it’s for good luck.” You explained, missing the light bemused snort beside you. “He would whine about not having the goddess of luck’s blessing if I didn’t.”

‘That could’ve been you in his place.’ A traitorous part of him mumbled, and Zayne promptly shoved that thought back to the corners of his mind. But it ceased to be silenced. ‘That should’ve been you. But you chose to distance yourself.’

‘It was for her sake.’

‘But was it worth it? Missing precious time with her? Being replaced by someone else?’ That voice hissed, reminding him of the reluctant distance he had placed between him and you. He told himself that it was necessary for him to focus on his studies if he wanted to take care of you in the future, and that indulging in your presence then would only hinder his carefully laid plans. ‘You were the perfect match for her and yet you–’

Opting not to let his darker, less desirable thoughts taunt him, Zayne focused on you instead, placing a hand behind the small of your back and brought you before the mirror.

“Do you think we still match?” He asked, his hushed question barely over the calming instrumentals that the shop you were in chose to play. If it weren’t for him being right next to you, you would’ve missed his question entirely.

You scrutinized his outfit through the mirror, and smiled. “I think we do.”

“Good.” Zayne let out a breath he unconsciously held back. He stared at his reflection once more, wondering. Would he have had the same treatment if he had stayed?

If Caleb was still the same boy he had met all those years ago, he would’ve hated you extending the same care towards Zayne himself. He remembered being at the receiving end of Caleb’s piercing gaze multiple times when they were still together, especially when you had looked to Zayne instead of him for certain matters.

‘The past matters naught. What’s important is now and the future.’ He thought as he turned his focus towards you, silencing the doubts of you favoring Caleb over him.

“Will you tie my tie for me on that day then?” He asked, the corners of his lip threatening to twitch upward when you stared at him, perplexed.

“Do you need the goddess of luck’s blessing as well?” You joked in response, only to sigh when you realized he was serious. “Don’t tease me, Zayne. Why would you need me to do it anyway?”

“For luck.”

“Why would you need luck of all things? It’s just a banquet!”

“You never know.” Zayne parroted the words you said this morning. You sighed, wondering if he lied about only studying and joined a debate club when he was still in school.

“Fine! I don’t understand why you and Caleb want me to tie it when you two could do it better than me.” A small smile appeared on his face as you grumbled, preparing to change out of the outfit he had picked out for you.

‘You will understand eventually.’ He thought as a staff member approached him with his card and receipt in hand, thanking him for his patronage.

‘For what man wouldn’t want their goddess' attention?’

#love and deep space #love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne x reader #love and deepspace caleb x reader #i am so down for a love triangle or ot3 between them tbh #just give me caleb already dammit...

212 notes · View notes

angllqvr · 3 months

Text

“you smoke?”

word count: 828

paring: mechanic!abby x reader, quick lil drabble inspired by this

warnings: smoking, no outbreak!au not proofread

a/n: posting fanfics on the main blog might be a thing now?? woah, okay i hope this is decent bc i don’t write fluff 😭🙏 enjoy mwah

abby huffed as she pushed herself out from underneath the car she’d been working on, wiping her forehead off as it was covered in sweat. the oil of the car staining her already light grey tank top as she used her left hand to fan herself off. “fuck, it gets hot down there.” she chuckled to herself before grabbing a rag from the floor and gently dabbing it over her face.

she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye, she wanted to call out but before she even could say anything you had walked into sight. “hey, i just thought you could use a drink. looks like hard work.” you flash her a smile before holding out a bottle of water in front of her.

“i could douse myself in this right about now,” she chuckles. “you really do come in clutch sometime’s don’t you?” that evokes a smile from you as you let an airy laugh past your lips. “i suppose i do. i’m glad you aren’t opposed.” you flash a smile at her as she twists open the bottle cap and chugs the entire thing in .2 basically seconds.

“you look really pretty under there, ya know? when you’re working. you get so, like… immersed. it’s cute.” abby raises an eyebrow at you. “it’s my job, i have to focus.” she laughed— she genuinely let out a laugh. maybe at how stupid your comment was, but a laugh nonetheless. abby fucking anderson laughed at your “joke.” she found you amusing, which felt almost unbelievable.

she leaned against the car she was previously working, eyeing you up and down. the way your shorts clung to your hips so nicely, your shirt being just the right amount of tight. you looked so pretty.

you give her a smile, eyeing her yourself. particularly her muscles, how sweaty she was and how they looked so good like that. her toned arms nearly gleaming in the sunlight. the sun itself wrapping it’s way around her body outlining her silhouette. you felt your face getting hotter as you stared.

“you okay? you’ve been staring?” abby states as you quickly snap out of it and get absolutely embarrassed. “oh! i um… i just thought you looked good.” you muttered, trying to save yourself from embarrassment.

“a-anyways… uh, how was the water?” ‘what the fuck?’ you mentally cursed yourself because who the hell would bring up water… as a conversation starter…? oh god. she literally thinks you’re a loser, she’s probably holding back an entire laughing fit.. why’d you say that?

abby digs around in her pocket before pulling out a pack of marlboro reds, flipping the lid open and taking out a cigarette before placing it in her mouth and digging around in her pockets for a lighter. “shit, i forgot my lighter. you got one?” you nod, walking over next to her as you took the lighter out and flicked it on, holding it to the cigarette gently placed between her lips.

she slumps down onto the ground, looking up at you- almost as if she wanted you to sit down with her. you got the memo and smiled softly as you sat next to her. “you smoke?” you shake your head. “no, thanks though.” she nods.

she leaned her head on the top bumper looking up at the sky before she takes a long drag of her cig. her eyes glance over to you, a small smile forming on her lips which was only visible to herself.

you look over at her, scanning her face. your eyes going from her eyes to her lips. she has oil and grease stained on her face, you noted. you bring your thumb up to her cheek to wipe it off smiling at her. she doesn’t say anything, instead taking another inhale of her cigarette while staring back at you.

“you’re pretty.” you mutter under your breath, thumb still glued to her cheek as you gently wiped away all the greese stained on random parts of her face.

she chuckles, putting her cigarette out on the ground before flicking it in a completely other direction. her entire attention now focused on you. “you’re staring again.” she remarks, you rolling your eyes at the blatantly obvious observation. thanks abby.

“i’m well aware, but so are you.” before you know it she’s leaning in closer towards you, you feel your heart skip a beat, her hands going to cup your jaw as she pressed her lips against yours. you smile into her lips, wrapping your arms around her broad shoulders. you could taste the former smoke coming off her, it made you shutter. you just ignored it.

she breaks the kiss a few seconds later, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. you smile and away from her before letting out a soft chuckle. “you wanna go for coffee after this?” abby questions, you nod eagerly.

“i’d love too.” “good.”

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby x you #abby tlou #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us

198 notes · View notes

annymation · 5 months

Text

Reimagining the characters in Wish

(Part 1- Asha)

Hey guys! I don’t really know how to start this, but let’s just say that I… Didn’t like how Disney’s 100th anniversary movie turned out, like at all.

But I can tell there was a lot of unexplored potential beneath this story, that in my opinion felt overly simple and bare bones.

But if you love it, that’s awesome, more power to you, I wish I could’ve loved it too. And I don’t want to rewrite it to show I’m “better than the writers at Disney” because I’m definitely not lol, I have no experience in writing, and I’m sure they put a lot of passion into the project and I respect them for that. But this movie inspired me with ideas for a different story that I think is worth telling.

But I won’t start telling it today, instead, I'll start a series of blogs sharing my ideas for changes in the characters and their stories, after I get some feedback I will start posting more of the story itself.

If you’re interested, then come along!

Asha✨

Personality

- Asha is a 18 year old girl, with a passion for drawing and helping those around her, sometimes even worrying more about helping others than helping herself

- She’s like a big sister to her 7 friends, always being the voice of reason and acting responsible, but not in a bossy way, she’s actually very playful with them

- To the people of Rosas tho, she's seen as kind of a weirdo, for you see, she spends almost every time of the day drawing in her sketchbook

- She practices everyday to become a better artist, and the people of Rosas find this to be very peculiar, after all, why would you take so much effort to perfect a talent when you can simply wait to turn 18 and wish for the king to make you an amazing artist?

- Asha doesn’t mind these comments, although they have made her less willing to share her drawings with others that aren’t her 7 friends

- As the story progresses we see Asha flourish from a shy and introverted girl to a brave woman who after discovering a terrifying secret about the kingdom’s rulers, steps in and inspires others to join her and fight an evil sorcerer king and his alchemist wife (yes, I made Amaya an alchemist, more on that on part 2 when I talk about how I’d change Magnifico and Amaya)

- Some Disney characters that share similarities with her personality wise are: Belle, Tiana, Pocahontas and Esmeralda

Main Traits:

Calm and mature

Determined

Passionate about her interests (drawing, dancing, philosophy and stars)

Helpful and generous

Perceptive and always questioning things around her that no one pays attention to (like why do all the artists only paint the King and Queen?)

Playful

Compassionate

Backstory

Oooh boy I gave this poor girl so much angst, okay let’s go

Asha grew up with her grandfather, her parents both died in a fire when she was just a baby

(this isn’t just to fit the “haha Disney princess has no parents” cliche, there’s plot relevance in this “mysterious fire” that I’ll talk about later)

Growing up with her grandpa, he’d always support her dream to be an artist, like her mother, who was an art teacher

Her mother not only drew really well, but she also was able to create the illusion that her drawings could move, by flipping through the pages of her sketch books

In other words, her mom was an animator

Asha saw this technic her mom used as a form of magic, so she would often tell her grandpa she wanted to “Do magic just like my mom”

Her father was a philosopher (this was established in the actual movie but never explored haha whyyyy), who taught people that working hard to achieve your dreams is not only rewarding, but also essential, because it’s part of the human nature to persevere and fight for what we believe, even if we fail, even if it’s hard, just keep moving forward.

This philosophy may sound very “umm duh” for me and you since we all know and hear everywhere nothing in life comes for free… But that’s not the case in Rosas

In this rewrite the kingdom wasn’t created by Magnifico, but rather the kingdom has existed for many generations, being ruled by different kings before Magnifico who also granted wishes… but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The point is that the culture of just asking the king to give you or make you whatever you want to be has been in this kingdom’s culture since forever, so when Asha’s dad comes out saying “hey! Maybe we should stop just relying on the king to make our dreams come true, right?” He’s actually being quite a revolutionary… and sharing a very dangerous belief to other people…

At this point you might suspect what caused that “mysterious fire”

So, back to Asha, growing up with her grandpa, they shared a lot of happy memories together. Reading her father's books and her mother's art books helped Asha connect with them even tho she never had them in her life.

But as her grandfather grew older, he became senile.

Asha went from being taken care of by her grandpa to being the one who took care of him when she was still around 13 years old, and when she turned 15 her grandfather passed away of old age

Asha went on to live with her best friend Dahlia, the two became like sisters.

Though she managed to move on from the loss of her grandfather, she could never shake the feeling that he died without getting his wish granted... But she had no way to prove that, it was just a feeling

The wish granting system works different in my rewrite, instead of there being a public wish granting ceremony once a month, there would only be a public wish TAKING ceremony, that would work just like in the movie, you turn 18, you go give your wish to the king yada yada yada.

But the wish granting part would work like this: Almost every night the king would release the wishes up in the sky, they would float down like balloons to their respective owners while they sleep, and once they woke up in the morning they'd feel that their wishes were granted, for they would wake up changed.

With this method, there's no way of confirming if someone really got their wish granted or not, unless you went to ask the king.

Asha never did ask the king if he granted her grandfather's wish, but her grandfather would sometimes express how he wasn't feeling completely fulfilled in his life, he felt like there was something... missing.

This feeling of hollowness persisted in him until the very end, no matter how hard Asha tried to help her grandfather, she never knew him as his real self, because he gave part of his soul to the king, the most beautiful part of his soul, his wish.

Asha had no proof that her grandfather didn't get his wish granted, only a gut feeling.

But because of this, Asha wasn't that thrilled to give her own wish to king magnifico, knowing there was the possibility of it never being granted.

Not to mention she didn’t even know what to wish for, “I’m just 18 and you guys expect me to already know what’s my heart’s deepest desire? I’m still figuring that out, all I know is that I wanna draw”

Plus she wanted to follow her father's philosophy and achieve her wish on her own, eventually, when she figured out what her wish even was.

Asha never rebelled against the system tho, she wasn't a confrontational person. She just accepted the people of Rosas preferred to rely on the king's magic, but that just wasn't for her.

However, on her 18 birthday, when it was expected of her to give her wish to the king, she simply said she didn't have a wish, and even if she did she wouldn’t want to hand it over, she wanted to make it come true on her own. This lead to an argument with the king, and after a series of events (that I don't have time to summarize here, but you can find out about it on my rewrite) leads to her finding out a terrible truth about her kingdom. And that's how her story begins.

Design

- I’d keep these braid ornaments that Asha had in the concept art

- Since in my rewrite she’s not that invested in the kingdom of Rosas, I’d remove all the Kingdom of Rosas symbols that are present in her design (there are a LOT of them)

- I’d replace these Rosas insignia with more star and constellations themed symbols, to reflect how Asha believes that the stars are connected to people and they can guide us, just like how her father believed.

Final Thoughts

My intentions with these changes were to give Asha a strong emotional hook, and something that makes her feel relatable.

The emotional hook here is how she spent so much of her life taking care of her grandfather that she kinda never had time to worry about her own desires, that alone can be relatable to caregivers of elderly people that watch their grandparents or even their own parents lose themselves as time passes, and end up worrying more about the person they’re taking care of than themselves.

Asha has this internal emotional conflict where she feels she needs to constantly help others the same way she helped her grandfather, and one of the things she’ll learn as the story progresses is that it’s not selfish of her to want more for HERSELF.

Another thing that would be relatable about Asha is her passion for drawing, and how most people in Rosas would say she’s wasting her time practicing so much when she can just wait until she turns 18 and wish to be amazing at drawing.

She’d never stop believing that taking her time to improve on her talent and trying again and again was worth every second of her time, because let me tell ya folks, drawing is HARD, and animating like Asha’s mom did is even HARDER, it takes a whole lot of practice, and Asha was determined to keep trying.

She’d be much like Belle, remaining true to herself even tho those around her considered her odd, and very passionate about drawing just as much Belle was passionate about reading.

I also find it funny how Asha’s motivations are fairly down to earth, like in Disney movies you usually have:

I want to be free from these palace walls!

I want to explore the ocean!

I want to open a restaurant!

I want to find true love!

And then there’s Asha here like

“My life is fine, I just wanna chill and draw stuff”

And that’s it, but, in her environment where everyone is expected to have this great wish that they have to give to the king so he’ll make it a reality, she’s kinda the odd one out, and I love that. Would be a great subversion of the Disney formula.

Of course after she learns Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions she gets a lot more agency and the desire to save her people, her “call for adventure” if you will.

But what are Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions? Click here for part 2 and find out!

Thank You For Reading!

#disney wish #wish #reimagined #rewrite #disney #wish 2023 #wish asha #wish star #king magnifico #wish movie #wish disney #wish rambles #wish rewrite #Asha #long post #wishrewrite

335 notes · View notes

sluttywonwoo · 5 months

Text

instead of you [part thirty-three] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, angst, discussions of plane disasters, mentions of sex (mdni ; 18+)

word count: 3k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

additional a/n: disclaimer that this chapter and the following chapters take place on oahu and kauai, hawai'i. i wrote this a year ago (originally posted on sept. 22, 2022) and included mentions of the negative impact and sentiment tourism in hawai'i procures, but it was before the fires in maui. i included hawai'i in their vacation in the first place because i'm part hawaiian and wanted to bring attention to our people's attitude toward tourists while also writing about the parts of the islands that i grew up loving. and i thought i should clarify that before posting, as i feel the context is important to precede what would be an otherwise distasteful choice if i had written this now. please keep hawai'i in your thoughts, mahalo plenty <3

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

Predictably, you cried yourself to sleep. You debated over whether or not to tell Minho. He’d probably find out when he woke up in the morning but would he be mad if he didn’t hear it from you? If Jisung was right, he didn’t care about you at all, so why would you grant him the courtesy of a head’s up? You didn’t want to believe Jisung, rather, you wanted to believe that he had only said those things in the heat of the moment but at the end of the day, he knew Minho far better than you did. Whether or not he was telling the truth to try and save you or lying to hurt you was up to you to decipher.

You wound up texting Minho, ‘Jisung knows,’ without any other context and calling it a night.

The next morning, you woke up to a message from Jisung telling you not to bother getting ready for the day and that he’d be going on without you. It was mostly a relief not to have to put on an act after everything that happened the night before but it also stung.

You weren’t very optimistic about repairing your relationship with Jisung, but any lingering hope vanished when he wouldn’t even look at you in passing in the hallway.

You spent the entire day in bed, trying to distract yourself with anything you could think of to pass the time. You scrolled through social media until your timelines stopped refreshing with new content. There wasn’t anything interesting enough on TV to pull you out of spiraling so you didn’t even bother trying to find something to hold your attention.

At one point you remembered the book you were reading but as soon as you opened it you were greeted by all of Jisung’s little annotations he had left for you. He still had your book and you wondered if he would ever finish it now that you’d ruined everything.

You thought about texting him, just to check in or try and talk about things but you didn’t want to bother him. A couple of times, you almost texted him just out of instinct. You would go to send him a tweet that you thought he’d find funny and then remember.

Minho came by your room that night after dinner when everyone was back from the day’s activities. He knocked twice, letting himself in before you’d even finished telling him he could enter.

“Care to explain what happened?” he asked, hands on his hips.

You shrugged noncommittally. “Jisung found out.”

“How? Did you tell him?”

“And ruin my own relationship with my best friend? Yeah, definitely.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “I didn’t come here to argue. I just want to know what happened.”

“Then don’t accuse me of shit.”

“I didn’t mean- I’m sorry. That’s not what I was trying to do.”

You sighed and signaled for him to sit down if he wanted to. He did, perching himself on the edge of the bed cautiously.

“He knows because he noticed me sneaking out and finally decided to follow me.”

The color drained from Minho’s face. “So he heard-”

You nodded. “I don’t know how much, but enough.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuck is right.”

“He wouldn’t say a word to me today,” Minho said.

“He wouldn’t even look at me.”

“I guess we knew this would happen eventually.”

“Yeah.”

“We fucked up.”

“Yeah.”

“You were right.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“We really do deserve each other.”

Oh. What Jisung had said earlier rang through your ears again.

“I guess I was.”

Just then, the door to the bedroom opened and Jisung walked in, scoffing as he passed his brother.

“I should have known,” he muttered to himself.

“Ji, look-” Minho tried, only to be immediately cut off by his younger brother.

“Don’t. Please just fucking don’t.”

“But-”

“God, you never listen to a word I say, do you? Either of you?”

You wanted to protest that you did listen to him but you thought better of it. It wouldn’t help your case at all. Instead, you sat there silently like a child being scolded.

“I don’t want to hear you explain yourself,” Jisung continued. “I don’t care why you fucked my best friend. I think the act in itself doesn’t need an explanation.” Minho opened his mouth to respond but Jisung cut him off again. “I don’t want to hear an apology either. I already know you don’t mean it. In fact, I think we’re done here so if you wouldn’t mind getting the fuck out of my room...”

Minho looked like he wanted to argue but likely knew it wouldn’t do any good so he simply hung his head and let himself out, bidding you a quiet goodnight as he left. You didn’t respond. You didn’t even acknowledge him. How could you?

“Don’t forget to pack your things for the flight tomorrow. It’s a long one.”

You sat there, stunned. You hadn’t expected Jisung to speak to you at all, let alone say something amicable.

“O-ok thanks,” you responded shakily.

“I’m sleeping in here tonight,” he added.

“Oh-” you scrambled up, preparing to leave but Jisung stopped you.

“No, I meant with you. It’d look weird if I slept on the couch again.”

Of course. Keeping up appearances.

“Is it even worth it to do this anymore?” you asked. “I mean, it’s falling apart at the seams.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jisung argued. “It’s just a few more weeks.”

“Do you really want to keep pretending to be in love with someone you hate?”

He froze, still bent over his suitcase. Then he straightened up and turned to face you.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t think I could ever hate you. I’ve been trying, trust me.”

You weren’t sure how to take that. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to take it. You tried not to let his words stoke the embers of hope you were still clinging on to but it was already proving difficult.

“Maybe with time,” you suggested.

He shrugged. “Ready for bed?”

You managed to get some sleep, despite everything. It took a while for your heart to calm down as you lay there beside your (ex?) best friend who was already snoring softly. He had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. You weren’t sure how he was able to drift off so easily in spite of your whole friendship falling apart but perhaps the stress was only one-sided.

You were the one being eaten alive by anxiety and guilt. All he had to do was mourn the loss of everything you destroyed.

The hours of sleep you did get passed quickly without dreams which was unusual for you. Before you knew it, Jisung’s alarm was going off and both of you were groaning as you dragged yourself out of bed.

You finished packing the rest of your things in relative silence. Neither of you had much to say aside from when you passed each other’s things back and forth from your suitcases.

The sun had yet to come up when the rest of the Hans gathered in the kitchen with their luggage. Since the flight was over twelve hours long Jisung’s parents had booked the earliest possible departure which just so happened to be before the sunrise.

The boys slept during the ride to the airport but you weren’t able to. You were squished between Jisung and Minho in the very back of the van, feeling like a pin in a grenade. They ignored each other, of course, both seemingly dead to the world.

Minho woke up before Jisung. He glanced over at you and offered an expression of sympathy. You just shrugged in response.

Sitting in the car like that caused your knees to brush up against each other every so often, each time you rounded a corner or went over a speed bump. Every time it happened you fought the urge to meet his eyes. The touch, be it fleeting, made your chest tighten over and over again until you were half-convinced you were going into cardiac arrest. Eventually, Minho gave up trying to give you space and just let his knee rest against yours. Funnily enough, it helped you relax.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s fine.”

He was so hard to read these days. Not that he was ever easy to read. You couldn’t tell whether or not he liked having his knee there. You weren’t sure why you were getting so caught up on it in the first place.

You longed to hold his hand. You longed to hold Jisung’s hand. But all you could do was sit there in between the two and wait until you finally arrived at the airport.

Thankfully, Minho was sat with his parents for the flight, which meant you were squeezed in between Jisung and Felix. You gave Jisung the window seat, knowing you wouldn’t get any sleep yourself. He looked like he wanted to argue when you offered it to him but ultimately surrendered when he saw the look in your eyes. You compromised for switching halfway through since the flight was so long but even that seemed to be pushing it for him.

It was funny how Jisung was still looking out for you after everything you had done. It was as if it was instinctual to him, to put you before himself. The realization almost made you tear up. Had you cared that much for him too? Or was it all one-sided? Either way, you were positive you didn’t deserve him.

Dom had chosen Hawai’i as his destination. A controversial choice, given the state of tourism at the moment, but it wasn’t like you had much say in the matter. Jisung had confided in you earlier in the trip that he had tried to talk his father out of it but that he couldn’t be swayed.

“We might as well try to make the most of it,” you argued. “It’s like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, right?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

The flight from Bali to Hawai’i was over twelve hours long which meant that you had roughly six hours to figure out how to entertain yourself before it was time to trade places. You could try to sleep but that meant leaning on Jisung and you were almost positive the last thing he wanted was for you to touch him right now.

You didn’t feel like paying for the in-flight wi-fi so you had to get creative with how to keep yourself busy. You scrolled through your camera roll for a while but it just made you sad. The pictures from the trip were one thing, but then there were all of the ones of you and Jisung back at school. The further back you went, the happier you seemed. There was no way that was actually true, it was just putting more distance between what had happened in the present from the way things were in the past. That, and you had a tendency to romanticize the past.

“Did you know flight attendants are trained to take oxygen masks from passengers?”

Felix’s voice from beside you pulled you from your spiral of self-pity almost immediately. You turned to look at him and cocked your head in confusion.

“What?”

“Like, you know that whole spiel they give you about safety before the plane takes off? And they’re like ‘during the flight, oxygen masks might drop from overhead’?”

“No, I know all of that. Why would they take the masks from passengers? Do they not have their own?”

“They do, but they might need to move around the cabin when that happens in case of an emergency or something, and if that were to be the case, they’re trained to take masks from passengers to oxygenate themselves. They’ll give it back, but in order to do their jobs they might have to borrow one without asking.”

“What if the passenger passes out?”

“Then they’ll be able to help them! Because they’re fully oxygenated.”

You made a face. “I’m glad you’ve got the aisle seat, then.”

Felix shrugged, grinning. “It sounds fucked up, but it’s just logistical. Wanna know something actually fucked up? These seat belts are practically useless.”

“What?” you weren’t sure if you really wanted to know where he was going with this but your morbid curiosity got the better of you once again. “What do you mean?”

“Well, they help with turbulence and stuff but in the event of a crash, these aren’t going to do shit for us. They’re just here to keep us strapped to the seat so they can identify the corpses by looking at the flight log.”

You sat there in stunned silence as the information Felix had just told you sunk in.

“That is... so dark,” you said finally.

“Yeah, but isn’t it interesting?”

“I guess, but why did you have to tell me all of this while we’re in the air?”

“Because it’s relevant!”

You sighed and glanced back at Jisung who was asleep and slumped against the window. “Ready to switch?”

It was just a joke but Felix scoffed nonetheless.

“I’m offended,” he whispered.

“And I’m traumatized.”

“My bad.”

Somehow, Felix kept you occupied until it was time to switch with Jisung. You lost track of time talking to him about everything and nothing. Out of all of the Han brothers, Felix was the one you knew the least.

You learned a lot about him in the six and a half hours you sat next to each other. You learned that he, like Jisung, had a passion for photography. He liked anime but manga adaptations always disappointed. He wanted to be a dancer when he was little, just like his big brother.

When it was Felix’s turn to inquire about you, you were sort of at a loss for words. You had to tread carefully around how much to actually reveal about yourself. When to lie, when to stretch the truth. You were exhausted. It was exhausting. But Jisung had made it clear that this was still important to him despite you not seeing the point anymore. So you played along for his sake. It was the least you could do since you ruined everything else.

You talked mostly about school, what you were studying, what you wanted to do with your degree... all the small talk that usually took place when you first met a person, not after you’d been traveling with them for over a month. But Felix didn’t know a lot about you interests wise so he listened intently and asked a lot of questions.

When it was finally time to actually switch, you were half-relieved, half-bummed. Talking with Felix was fun but you hated lying to him.

Jisung lifted up the armrest between you and him to let you slide over while he stood awkwardly in the aisle.

“Do you want to use my hoodie as a blanket, baby?” he asked.

“Sure, thanks.”

He laid it over your shoulders after you got settled against the window, kissing you on the head and telling you goodnight.

You shut your eyes and tried to relax but sleep wouldn’t come. You knew it wouldn’t. You took deep breaths in an attempt to slow your heart rate, lowkey considering holding your breath until you passed out.

Next to you, Jisung was flipping through the in-flight movies. You could hear him tapping on the touchscreen, huffing in frustration when he couldn’t find anything he wanted to watch.

“You okay, bro?” Felix asked his twin.

You felt Jisung sort of shift, likely checking to see if you were asleep. He sighed.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Relationship troubles?” Felix guessed.

“Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been pissy for like, the past two days. I assumed it had something to do with your girlfriend.”

“She hasn’t been sleeping well,” he explained simply, lying through his teeth. Well, it wasn’t technically a lie because you weren’t sleeping well, but that had nothing to do with why Jisung was upset. “The exhaustion has been leading to a lot of fights.”

“Sorry, man.”

“It’s okay. It happens. Not that you would know.”

Felix scoffed. “Ouch, I try to have a heart-to-heart with you and you go there?”

“This is a heart-to-heart to you?”

“You know what I mean. A real conversation.”

“Okay, but I’m right. You wouldn’t know.”

“Not all of us can have healthy relationships like you, Jisung,” he sighed.

“I know. I think I’m mom and dad’s only chance at grandchildren at this point.”

“Not if our brother has anything to say about it,” Felix said lowly.

“What do you mean?” Jisung asked.

He sounded genuinely confused but you knew that internally he was panicking because you were too. You were still pretending to be asleep but you had stopped breathing, waiting to hear what he would say next. How much did Felix know? You and Minho weren’t great at sneaking around but you had at least tried to be a little careful.

“You mean you haven’t noticed the way Minho looks at her?”

“Not really? But you spend more time with him. You know him better than I do.”

“Well, you should pay more attention. He makes it kind of obvious,” Minho muttered.

“Makes what kind of obvious, though?”

“That he wants her.”

“What?”

“I can’t believe you haven’t caught on to him flirting with her.”

“Well obviously he’s doing it behind my back so-”

“Sorry you had to find out this way,” Felix said, likely grimacing, “but at least she isn’t reciprocating, from what I’ve seen.”

“Yeah, at least there’s that,” Jisung murmured.

You were able to exhale in relief, but only slightly. Felix didn’t know everything but he could tell Minho was interested which wasn’t a good sign. How long had he been picking up on that?

Your best friend sighed angrily. “The one thing I thought Minho couldn’t take from me-”

You bit the inside of your cheek, guilt consuming you all over again.

“Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?” Felix asked. “He hasn’t even made a move or anything, mate. I just think he thinks she’s cute.”

“With Minho, that’s enough.”

i'm sick so no tags :(( but i've got nothing else to do so here ya go, lmk what you think I always appreciate feedback!!

add yourself to the taglist here!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #stray kids series #stray kids fanfic #lee know fanfic #lee minho x reader #minho x reader

288 notes · View notes

thyfggfy · 9 days

Text

I had contemplated doing this post for awhile , because quite frankly I wasn't sure what I was trying to accomplish and even now I am not sure what my goal is. I just know that I don't want to scream into the void . I want to be heard.

Some of you might be aware of one of the most recent tw confession blogs . In one of their more recent posts a very interesting discussion occurred.

One of my mutuals pointed out a collection of fics that are labelled as "101 ways to kill Scott McCall". At first I didn't even notice this , because idk. Maybe I just glazed over it , however when more people began interacting with the publication I SAW IT and I just had to check for myself .

One of said fics is called "Kill-a-Character Bingo - Scott McCall" which is a fanfiction of 26 chapters in which Scott is killed in various grotesque and humiliating ways.This is one of the chapters:

Outside of feeling gross , disillusioned and honestly sick to my stomach , I was also beyond perplexed . It is one thing to dislike a character . To be so annoyed by them that you just want them gone by any means necessary . I can even understand killing them in your own fic as a "treat" . I can't say I am on board with that , but still I can put myself in your shoes...sort of. Writing a fanfiction in which your main focus is a character you loathe , on the other hand, is ...confusing to say the least.

I can already hear some of you saying "It is not like I wrote this" and you are right , but what about the people supporting it .

115+ people apparently consider this good , entertaining . Gave the "author" their silent encouragement to keep going .

To be fair this fic is from the end of 2023 so the kudos are not that much so let's look at their most recent work with the "Dead Scott McCall" tag -"Compare" which was written at the beginning of February 2024

Over 100 kudos in the span of 3 months . Not too shabby for ao3.How much is too much ? How much longer can you use the "just a few rotten apples" argument?

If you are wondering how Scott's life ends in this story , one of the readers was more than happy to inform us.

I am going to avoid name-calling ,okay. I know that realistically not all of you are like this (thank god). I just want to ask. Do you think this is healthy? Do you think that is a fulfilling way for someone to spend their free time? Are you going to be comfortable being near this person and their fans knowing this is one of their "hobbies"? I don't know about you , but I would definitely be keeping my distance.

Again, I have no clue what is the point of this . I don't want you to attack the user . They would most likely just double down on doing what they know best . Maybe some of you would understand why people from my side of the fandom are so willing to accuse you of certain things instead of getting butthurt . Though that is most likely also asking for too much.

72 notes · View notes

wolfiesmoon · 6 months

Text

JJK boys with a gyaru GF

i wanted to write for all these bois but didn't have a good enough concept let's do what i do best!! Short drabbles!!...😔

I did this on my main blog too and it did really well so here i am🥰

Characters featured: Nanami, Choso, Megumi, Gojo

Nanami Kento

"Hahahaha! Kento, you look sooo cute!" You clapped your hands, satisfied with your work so far.

After much convincing, Kento allowed you to give him a gyaru makeover. It was almost artistic how much the bright, colorful accessories contrasted his strong body and calm personality.

He sighed. He can't believe he's actually letting you do this. Your puppy eyes are quite a dangerous weapon, he fears.

When you move away for a bit, he asks "Are you done?"

"Done?! We haven't even gotten to the makeup yet!! Or the nails!!" Your response shocked him. You really were going all out here, weren't you.

"Which, speaking of nails, let's do a leopard pattern like your tie!! Have I mentioned how that tie is peak gyaru yet?" Your mention of the tie evolved from there and he listened to you ramble on about the latest trends in gyaru fashion.

He liked the moments where you rambled on about things you enjoy. He loves the sound of your voice, especially when you're excited about the thing you're talking about.

You press a quick kiss to his nose all of a sudden, making him jump slightly in surprise.

"Hehehe, sorry. Your smile was just so cute and I couldn't resist." He was... smiling at you?

God, you're gonna be the death of him.

Choso Kamo

He's always had his eyes on you. To be fair, you were a little difficult to miss with all your bright acessories and clothes. And with a bright smile to match, too.

"Choso!!~" you ran up to him, hugging him tight. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around you, causing you to smile at him.

He would do anything for you, and he makes that clear as day. He holds your shopping bags, he helps you pick out nail designs and plugs in the curling iron for you while you're still doing your makeup.

Of course, he would do a lot more than that but you never let him.

"Hello." He greeted you simply, wondering where you'll take him today.

"Soooo, there's this new clothes collection I've been eyeing for a while..." you let go of him, much to his dismay.

"Do you need money?" He asked.

"What? No, I've been saving up! And I want you to come with me to pick out the best date outfits, and the best girls night outfits, the best party outfits, you get the point." You listed all the necessities off, straightening one of your fingers each time.

"Ah, I just went and called you over without explaining anything beforehand. You're not busy, are you?" Your face suddenly shifted to worry, something he hated seeing.

"No, I'm not."

Truth be told, he was supposed to go to a meeting right about now, but you're much more important. The peck you pressed to his lips was more than worth it.

Fushiguro Megumi

"Hehehe, look here Megumi~" you smiled, turning your brightly accesorised phone towards him.

Instead of posing with you like you wanted, Megumi walked out of your camera's view without a word.

"Oh come on, babe... You never let me take pictures of you..." you whined, putting down your phone and pouting.

"I don't like my face being on social media." He crossed his arms, looking as straight faced as ever.

"Who said I was gonna post it on social media? I just wanted to show you off to my girlies... They don't believe that I actually have a boyfriend..." you looked down.

"...Fine." your head shot back up, meeting his eyes. He isn't a jokester, and he never teases you on purpose either, so this can only mean...

"Yayy! I love you, babes!!" You practically jumped him, attacking him with a flurry of kisses to his face. He acted annoyed and pushed you off, but you have a feeling he liked it deep inside.

"Hehehe, now your face is covered in kiss marks!" You smiled playfully at him.

Before he got a chance to wipe it off, you snapped a quick selfie that you're going to show off to your friends so hard later.

They can't claim he's just a friend you payed to take a photo with if he has your lipstick all over him, can they?

Gojo Satoru

"Kyaaah!" All your friends squealed at the sight of your boyfriend. Satoru smirked slightly, sitting down next to you and kissing your forehead.

"You weren't lying when you said he was super hot!" One of them said. "Ahhh, he really is super tall!" Another added, looking him up and down. You nodded excitedly in response, proud smile on your face.

Satoru didn't really want to meet your friends. He had nothing against them, but a date with you and only you was way better. Atleast in his humble opinion.

"You are SO. LUCKY." Your third friend giggled.

Satoru doesn't even pay attention to your friends fangirling over him, taking your freshly manicured hand into his and appreciating your nails. Blue and sparkly. Undoubtedly to match his eyes.

He raised your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles one by one, keeping eye contact with you the entire time and listening to your friends lose it in the background.

"Satoru...?!" You tried your best to not let your blush show. Suddenly, he pulled you close by your hips, whispering into your ear.

"Hey, here's a bright idea. Let's ditch your friends. After all, I'm in the mood for something sweet." You felt a shiver run through you at his words.

"Hey-Satoru!" You pulled on his ear, making him pout and promise not to do it again, but you have a feeling he won't stop trying.

201 notes · View notes

wordstome · 7 months

Text

Shrike pt. 3 - who we are

König x high school sweetheart reader

2nd person, she/her pronouns, reader is Austrian/has lived in Austria and speaks German for most of the story, romance, pining, friends to lovers, reader's nickname is Thorn, König's first name is Alexander, absolute tooth rotting fluff, corny as hell towards the end

2.8k words

tw: physical and emotional abuse, violence (chokehold, stabbing, throat slitting)

Hello to everyone reading this from my main blog! In case you haven't seen the pinned post on bucca2, this is my new writing blog. Everything I publish will be here on wordstome now. Please feel free to unfollow bucca2 and follow me here!

also PARIS PALOMA TEASED HER NEW SONG "DRYWALL" JUST FOR SHRIKE CHAPTER 3 SPREAD THE WORD

[PART 1] [PART 2 (PREV)] [MASTERLIST]

What I had left here I just held it tight So someone with your eyes Might come in time To hold me like water Or Christ, hold me like a knife

When you’re in total darkness, your eyes adjust. You can see everything around you, but it’s all devoid of color. Then when the light turns on, it blinds you, but it’s better to be blinded momentarily than to live in the dark forever.

That’s how it feels as you prepare to travel home. To escape. You’re antsy, excited and petrified at the same time. Before, it felt like the days flew past in a murky haze. Now, even the seconds crawl.

It feels like moving in a dream, like you’ll wake up any day now and it will all be taken away from you. Your hope, your new dreams for the future, your König.

A shiver runs through you. Where did “your König” come from?

When you’re not occupied with the anxiety of keeping such a huge secret from your husband, all you think about is König. You’ve spent the past few weeks in a haze, like he’s put some sort of spell on you. You do get a kick out of imagining him as a witch with a hat and cauldron.

But you know it’s something simpler than that. All the feelings you used to have for him have returned. It’s different than the heady rush you used to get with your husband. It feels sweeter, like you really are a teenage girl with a crush all over again.

It feels naïve, but you also don’t care. You feel safe despite the situation you’re still in, for the first time in a long time. You never would have expected to see König again—even less so for him to become your saving grace.

It seems silly in hindsight that you had been so frightened of him. Sure, the mask was a lot. But it had been something about his energy. It was different than you had ever felt from him, before or after your reunion. If he was that way on the battlefield, then no wonder he had earned the nickname König. You’re not sure if it scares or awes you.

You’re about to find out.

An anxiety attack is the worst feeling in the world.

You dry heave. Your chest feels like a roiling ball of angry carrion birds hollowing you out. You shake like a leaf in the wind. You fall down a long, dark pit of despair as your stomach seizes with nausea.

The train’s delayed. There’s been an issue with the tracks leading out of the city. No trains will be leaving for 12 hours.

You should have just sat in the terminal and waited, or tried to contact König, but you’re not thinking straight. All of your thoughts are focused on your husband, and what he’ll do if he comes home and finds you gone. You decide, somehow, that it would be wiser to throw yourself back into the lion’s den and pretend everything’s alright instead of waiting for him to come raging into the train station and pull you out by the hair. The thought of that is the only thing that gets you up off the wall you were hyperventilating against and back towards home.

The plan is to get home before he does and hide your suitcases. He’s usually not home by this time, anyway. You chalk the rising sense of dread in the pit of your stomach up to your anxiety and turn the handle to go in.

Fuck.

He’s standing in the kitchen.

The years have not been kind to him. He’s far from the charming young man you married. He’s wretched, unkempt, angry. It’s clear he’s been drinking, maybe even before he left work. The shadows etch themselves into the lines of his face as his expression twists into something awful, inhuman. You stand, frozen, as he approaches you.

“Planning a trip without me?” he asks with an awful grin.

You can still salvage this. “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but I just received word. My mother’s not doing well. I have to go see her.”

“You lie like a whore,” he snarls. “Don’t think I haven’t been paying attention. You’re different nowadays. Not the nice obedient woman I married.”

Your fear turns to anger in an instant. Years and years of this horseshit, waiting on him hand and foot, placing his smallest whims before your own needs and wants—it rushes up through you like hot steam. His nice obedient woman. And the worst thing is, you hate that he’s not wrong. That is what you’ve become.

“Yesterday I came home and you hadn’t even started dinner. Where were you, huh? Running around on me behind my back?” It’s difficult to describe, but his smile is oily: sleazy, untrustworthy, dangerous. “With that big fuck in a hood that came here with the mercenaries, perhaps?”

Your blood runs cold at that. Has he seen you with König? When? Why hasn’t he said anything? It feels like you’re stepping into a trap, but you must move forward if you want to get out.

“He’s going to get what’s coming to him, alright. My manager has a direct line to his boss. One word from him will get that fucker deployed to the middle of nowhere on a suicide mission.”

It’s an absurd threat, and you know it. This drunken idiot has no idea what he’s talking about—as if some middle-management bureaucrat could persuade a PMC to dispose of a soldier like König. But it’s the audacity that irks you. You’ve lived your life serving this man for too long, and now he thinks the world will bend to his whims. There’s absolutely no way he can touch König, but an old and familiar anger rises in you.

A long overdue revelation dawns on you now. He’s a bully. The same as Andreas: little boys with petty insults and empty threats. Pushing people around because their own lives are empty and unsatisfying.

An eerie calm breaks through you like the sky cutting through a storm. The man before you is just a feral animal, snarling and snapping in desperation. You’re not afraid of him anymore.

You reach behind you and slowly roll open the knife drawer, grabbing the first one your fingers land on.

“I’m leaving. I’m leaving this house, this country, and this marriage,” you say, gripping the knife in a defensive position. Your father taught you how to hold a knife like this: backwards, with the blade along your arm, sharp edge facing outwards.

“This way, it’s much more difficult for someone to turn the blade against you,” he had told you, demonstrating the motion by moving your arm towards your chest. The memory makes you smile. At the time, you’d been indulging your old man—he had always said that violence was a last resort, but that the world was unkind and one day you may have to defend yourself. He was right, just as he was when he told you he had reservations about your marriage.

You’re going home. You’re going to see your father again. And you’ll never have to tolerate the loathsome toad before you again.

The beast laughs. “What do you think you’re going to do with that? Stab me?” He’s up against you before you can react, the breath leaving your lungs in a gasp as he pins you against a wall by the throat.

“You. Are. Mine. You will never raise a hand against me because I own you,” he hisses, his alcohol-laced breath foul against your face. “And it’s high time you remembered that.” His grip tightens like an iron vice around your throat, but you’re not afraid. Even as your vision begins to blur and blacken, you stare directly into his eyes. They’re like red-hot coals of fury, but you see what’s behind them now. The fear. The cowardice of a desperate man who has no recourse but to lay his hands on someone who can’t fight back.

“You’re pathetic,” you rasp, lips tugging into a smile. The coals burn brighter. The hand squeezes tighter. The adrenaline surges through you like a tide—and your body acts to protect itself, in a way that you haven’t allowed it to in a long time. A feeling as sweet and familiar as an old friend.

The knife makes its home right between his ribs.

He staggers away from you, as if you had slightly winded him instead of stabbed him in the heart. Your hands instantly go to your throat as you cough and sputter, lightheaded and dizzy but alive, so alive. You’ve never felt so alive as you do right now, watching the demon of your own personal hell look down at the blade sticking out of him.

“You stupid little bitch—” He makes as if to lunge at you, but time slows. Your eyes widen as the shadows behind him melt and solidify into a figure. Tall and hooded. No knight in shining armor, but an assassin of deepest night.

König slashes through your husband’s throat in one deadly, beautiful motion.

Your husband falls to the ground like dead weight, gasping and choking on his own blood. Your eyes are fixed on him, a strange sensation bubbling through you. You’re making some kind of noise, loud and cacophonous, as König steps over the dying animal who has controlled you your whole adult life.

His arms find their way around you as you slowly sink to the ground, howling and wailing. He’s so patient, you think numbly with some corner of your mind that remains untouched by the mania seizing the rest of you. The two of you sit there, his body warm and solid against yours, as your body slowly exits fight or flight mode.

“Alex?” you say hoarsely once you’re in your right mind again.

“I’m here,” he rumbles.

You turn to look at him as he pulls the hood off his head. There he is, your Alexander, all grown up. He’s rugged, with nasty-looking white scars streaked across his face, but so, so handsome. His eyes are still the same as he looks at you with something akin to rapturous adoration. Your green-eyed boy.

“You’re back, rosethorn,” he says with a wide grin. There’s a touch of madness to it, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Was I…” Exhaustion sets in, seeping through your whole body. “Was I crying or laughing just now?”

He shifts you onto his lap, cradling you like a baby as you look up at him.

“I think you were laughing.”

The police release you after just over half an hour of questioning.

You aren’t going anywhere, of course. They’re leaving you, exiting your hospital room with murmurs of well-wishes for your health. They’ve hardly left the room when König comes striding in, instantly moving to your bedside and holding your hand in his.

He looks tired too, his eyes soft as he takes in your small smile. You’re sure he was being interrogated for much longer than you, but it looks like he passed muster as well. Not as if you had anything to worry about—what could the local police have done to the commander of the mercenaries taking down their local terrorist cell anyway?

“Are you alright? Did they clear you?” His expression hardens as he glances at your neck. You nod weakly. Your throat is going to be bruised for a while, but your attacker hadn’t done any lasting damage.

Attacker. Husband. Corpse. All of these words describe the same thing now.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner,” he says mournfully. “He shouldn’t have had the chance to attack you like that.”

You shake your head at him. He didn’t know that you weren’t on the train heading home, after all. The room is quiet for a few moments, save for the distant beeping of a heart monitor.

“Why…” you manage to ask. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“Why was I there?” He glances around to make sure nobody’s listening, and leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I was there to kill him, of course.”

You shudder a little. He admits it so casually, that he was in your house because he was there to commit a murder. You should be afraid of him, but you feel around in your brain and come up empty-handed.

Instead, you find yourself worried. For him. “What if you had gotten in trouble?”

He snorts. “You underestimate me, rosethorn. I would have just framed it as a robbery.”

You nod. Oh God…does that mean he had planned this? Why doesn’t that horrify or disgust you? You’re just going to have to dissect that later. Right now, you only feel a warm affection towards the man stroking his thumb along your hand in a soothing motion.

“So…what comes next?”

“You’re asking me? We can do whatever you like. I can take you home.”

Home. Where is that, now? It’s certainly not in the house you’ve left behind, where the ghost of the man you were married to settles in every nook and cranny. It doesn’t feel like your childhood home where your parents are, either.

It’s such a corny saying, “home is where the heart is”. But home feels like it’s already here, sitting next to your hospital bed with the fondest look in his eyes.

“I’d like to travel,” you whisper. The with you goes unspoken.

“I have plenty of leave time saved up.”

You flip your hand so you can hold his. It’s huge next to yours. This is the hand that slit your husband’s throat, a hand that has killed countless people.

You’re not sentimental enough to pretend that’s not an issue. You’re not entirely sure this is happily ever after: that all of your problems are solved because you’ve replaced one violent man with another. But another part of you yearns to be the one who gets protected. You’ll take care of König, and you know he’ll take care of you. In his own way.

You can ask the questions later. Right now, you have lost time to make up for.

“Are you sure you should be wearing that scarf?”

The air is cold, but the wind is soft instead of feeling like tiny blades against your face. You tug said scarf down from your face and take in a lungful of crisp, icy air.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure König as he hauls himself up the last ridge to where you’re standing. “It’s loose enough. And it’s chilly.”

“If you say so.” He tugs his neck gaiter further up his nose. “What a view, hm?”

You’re standing on Mont Blanc, blanketed by serene white snow just as the name promised. Further below you, the skiing slopes are crawling with tourists, but here in this little outcropping, the only sound is the occasional rush of wind and your voices.

“I think I can see Salzburg from here,” you say, pointing off into gorgeous landscape spread out before you.

“That is most certainly still Switzerland,” König says, amused. You turn to look at him instead and are rewarded with his shining green eyes looking right back at you.

“Whatever!” You let out a dissatisfied hmph, which draws a hearty laugh from him.

“You came all the way to Chamonix just so you could look at Austria again?”

“It’s a very tall mountain,” you argue.

“It’s one of many very tall mountains. We could have just gone to Großglockner.”

“That’s boring. I’ve always wanted to visit France.”

“You wanted to visit a very expensive ski chalet.”

“Bite me.”

“I just might!” You giggle and squeal as he grabs you, chasing your face with his as you squirm around.

“It is beautiful,” he concedes as he holds a hand above his eyes to keep off the sun. “Almost as beautiful as you.”

“I should push you off this peak right now.”

“You couldn’t move me an inch.” He grabs you by the waist and holds you tight to emphasize his point. You can’t even shift his arms off you, no matter how hard you push.

“Ok, fine, you win.” You pout at him, but he doesn’t let you go.

The dynamic the two of you share is so easygoing and relaxed, it’s like you had a rhythm all along that both of you just fell back into. But of course, there are some things you’ve never done together. Like travel together.

Or kiss.

“Are you going to do it this time?” you ask him, smiling.

His nose wrinkles up, uncharacteristically cute for someone like him. “Well, I was going to, but then you had to open your mouth.”

You cackle. “Go on then.”

“Can I?”

“I just said yes!”

“I forgot how much you like to talk,” he complains. Before you can say another word, he captures your lips in his.

The sky is vivid and blue as the whole world stretches out before you.

#RIPBOZO

Here we are! We're at the end of this little story I started writing on a whim. Honestly, this means a lot to me personally: I wrote a lot when I was younger, but high school and university were very difficult times for me, and I stopped writing fanfiction. I tried to get back into it during the pandemic, but I was never able to finish anything beyond a long-ish drabble. I'm quite proud of this.

Even still, I feel like there are a lot of stories that I still want to tell about this couple. There's quite a lot that I decided to cut from these main 3 chapters for the sake of pacing and time. There's a little bit of dissatisfaction at not having crammed in every little detail that I wanted, but if there's one thing that writing university papers has taught me, it's that perfectionism will keep you from getting anything done. So you will be getting more from Alex and Thorn in the future!

I know a lot of you were anticipating what delicious revenge König was going to exact on Thorn's husband, so I hope you weren't too disappointed ;; While I personally would have loved to have König strap him to a chair in the basement and do some morbid things with a knife, I think it was important for Thorn's character that she's involved in it. While of course the main focus of this story is König, Shrike is also about his beloved Thorn. I hope to explore König and the darker (and pervier) aspects of his character more in subsequent stories. But for now, they're getting a well-deserved happy ending.

One last thing before I go: Chamonix is a resort town in central/southeast France, not far from Lyon. (Sorry, I don't know whether Lyon is south enough to be considered southern France lol). Mont Blanc is Chamonix's main peak of the Alps, and is known for how pretty it is and being at the border of France, Switzerland, and Italy. As König said, if you wanted to visit a mountain as an Austrian, there are several of them at home you could visit, but since I visited it a few years ago, Chamonix has a special place in my heart. I just had to cram it in!

As usual, I'm excited to see your comments and feedback. I've read every single thing everybody has commented about this fic, even if I couldn't respond to you all, and I appreciate it so deeply. Whenever I get feedback I literally feel like kicking my feet and giggling. And if you want to ask questions or request specific scenarios with Thorn and Alex, please do send me an ask!

@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @kneelingshadowsalome @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @fireballoveraltanta

psst. to my tag list people while I have you here: naturally I will continue tagging you in other Shrike stories, but I'll also be using this same tag list for every other König fic I write. If you'd like to opt out of that, let me know. (No hard feelings, of course :3)

#könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod #mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig x reader #fic:shrike

210 notes · View notes