Entry #11 - The First Beta - Smut - By @thelittlestkitsune
Author: @thelittlestkitsune Rating: NSFW 18+ Pairing: Theo Raeken/Reader Words: 10,541 Prompt: “What, no witty repartee? What kind of villain are you?”
You’d always thought that being clawed by a werewolf would be the worst pain you’d ever felt. Worse than appendicitis, worse than the time you fell off the slide at the park and cracked your head open. But it wasn’t. Not to say it was enjoyable. It wasn’t a ten out of ten would recommend kind of pain but it was tolerable. I can get through this. You thought to yourself as you dragged yourself through the dirt, your broken skin brushing against the rough ground. Painful enough, but I’ll live. You heard the rustling behind you, knowing that whoever clawed you wasn’t far behind you, their footsteps or pawsteps getting closer to you. Maybe being a werewolf wouldn’t be so bad, I could get revenge on my landlord for jacking my rent up really high. You thought to yourself sardonically as you paused. “You shouldn’t be trying to get away from me sweetheart. You’re only going to injure yourself more.” You heard a male voice say, recognizing the tone. “Theo Raeken? Really? I mean of course you’re a werewolf, you’re like the sketchiest guy I know.” You sighed, the pain finally setting in as you rolled onto your back.
What would you think the phantom thieves would look/act like if they were the opposite gender?
Now this is the stuff I live for lol. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, so thank you for sending this!! ^^ I hope you like it!
Note: Instead of using GIFs, I made collages to try to help with visualization. They’re awful, but I hope they somewhat help. ;A; This will be LONG, so please grab a snack/water!
Edit: Added Akechi!
WARNING: spoilers and mention of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.
Akira is the same stoic, sassy, and spontaneous person; however, the feminine version’s raven hair is fluffier, and it ends just below her shoulderblades. She’ll usually tie it half-up in a bun, allowing her bangs to fall over her forehead.
Glasses of various ebony frames are her go-to accessory; her favorite is the cat-eye, and she only wears them for special occasions.
Black tights are always under her skirts/dresses; in addition, she adores classy styles, minimalism, and modesty (think Audrey Hepburn).
Akira would rather put more effort into accessorizing; jewelry, shoes, and charms for her carry-on (gifted by her friends) are things she enjoys adorning herself with.
As far as makeup goes, she keeps it very minimal and natural. Her routine is composed of foundation, eyeliner, lip balm, and mascara; she’ll also include neutral eyeshadow if she’s feeling up to it.
Honestly, she doesn’t even need the mascara since her lashes are so long; one of her quirks is fixing her glasses because her eyelashes bat them if they’re pushed too far up on her nose.
Akira still has onyx doe-eyes, and her eyebrow game is so strong that she doesn’t even need to fill them in.
The fact that she’s so pale makes it difficult to find foundation, so she opts for moisturizer or BB cream.
She twists and plays with her hair quite a bit, too.
Her nails are kept natural with a clear top coat; however, she’ll use black nail polish if she’s feeling particularly bold or rebellious (which is usually on calling card days).
Akira’s figure is lean, as she doesn’t gain muscle very easily; she’s well-endowed as far as curves, but she’s very discreet about it.
She won’t hesitate to call people out when they’re out of line, but she is very sweet and affectionate toward the people she cherishes the most.
Although, her concept of affection manifests in the form of incessant teasing and flirting, much to the disdain of her friends.
Their reactions are so endearing to her; all of them stutter and blush like fools.
Mishima is her favorite to tease because he gets extremely flustered, and she nearly made him faint once.
In addition, she’ll do it to Akechi too, and due to his quick thinking he’s the only one that can match Akira’s witty repartee. but if you listen closely you can hear him screaming on the inside
Sojiro’s easier on her than her male counterpart.
Akira doesn’t pay attention in class at all; alas, she always manages to achieve the top score of her class.
Her coffee is laden with sugar and cream because she needs her fix of sugar. She’ll drink it black if she needs a boost, though.
She buries her true feelings and opinions deep within her; she believes they are unimportant and a hindrance to her analytical thinking.
And… it’s not like anyone would care about what she has to say, anyway. She’s been branded a ‘criminal’, after all…
Akira tries very hard to act like a leader for her teammates and project confidence; therefore, she tends to be a perfectionist, and she’ll overwork herself to the point of exhaustion. Morgana’s the only one that knows; that’s why he’s constantly urging her to rest and take care of herself.
As Joker, she feels much more free as well as genuinely confidant. Her teammates still scold her for being too reckless and flashy.
Her Metaverse outfit is the same, except her pants are slightly more form-fitting and she lets her hair down. She also has star-shaped cuff-links.
She’s the embodiment of ‘do it for the vine’, in reality AND the Metaverse.
Her intuition is spot-on and she’s very open-minded; as a result, she’s hesitant to make decisions or judgments until she obtains all the facts.
She’s a good girl that loves her friends; treat her right.
Ryuji’s hairstyle is a layered blonde bob, and the length is usually maintained between her chin and shoulders.
She sports an athletic, slim figure since she’s so active, and her legs would make even god weep with how incredible they are.
In addition, she’s she shortest in the group. Akira’s taller than her just by a hair. because she fluffs her hair like the cheater she is
A six-pack is hidden under her tank top.
She’ll abide by the school uniform for girls, but she’ll wear knee-high baseball socks with her signature white Converse high-tops.
Grunge is her style, so she adores fashion items such as flannel, combat boots, and beanies. She’s been known to wear fishnets, too.
Piercings line her earlobes and her nails are painted black.
She doesn’t wear much makeup other than eyeliner and mascara. she looks flawless with or without it hoo girl
Ryuji’s hands are always in her pockets, and she leans on walls often.
Her posture is far better than her counterpart, but she still has a slight limp.
She’s always hungry; she could eat three bowls of ramen and she still wouldn’t be satisfied. let her eat
If you look deep inside her carry-on you’ll find her stash of gummies and chocolate. She’ll say it’s for Ann, though.
A scowl is typically etched on her face, but when she smiles…
She puts the sun to shame. and it makes Akira blush
Cursing is an art she is well-versed in, and she’s constantly mouthing off to anyone that tries to pick a fight with her or her friends.
However, she has a heart of gold, and she’s actually quite sensitive under her tough exterior. She’s prone to pinning blame on herself, and she’s very insecure despite her energetic disposition.
She’s actually quite sharp and observant, but her ‘in-the-moment’ approach to life comes off as ‘stupid’ or ‘careless’ when in fact it’s the opposite.
When she’s Skull, she wears a black bandanna over her hair and she wears black knee-high heels similar to Captain Kidd’s (Mary Read?), except Ryuji’s have crimson buckles. Other than that, everything else about her thief garb is the same.
She still hates Akechi with the passion of a thousand suns, and she doesn’t see his appeal at all. that’s a lie but she’d sooner die than admit it
Ann is the tallest out of everyone in the group, and his ashy blonde hair is styled in an undercut because he has to remain trendy for his job as a model. The Thieves love touching his hair because it’s soft and wavy.
He has high cheekbones, a prominent jawline, and eyes that contain all the beauty of the sea; it’s no wonder he’s a model. pretty boy
His body type is svelte with lean muscle, especially in his biceps. it’s from holding up his game system
Ann has a radiant and dazzling smile that could give angels a run for their money.
The girls check him out all the time, and he just chuckles as he playfully flicks their foreheads. He’s in no position to judge since he checks them out too, but only when they’re not paying attention.
Similar to the female version, he wears scarlet pants, the school’s blazer, and Dr. Martens.
During the summer, he wears Converse sneakers, denim skinny jeans, and a crop top with a flannel shirt wrapped around his hips.
He loves wearing beanies, too.
Ann shares Akira’s fondness for accessorizing, so he wears long necklaces, studded earrings, and bracelets/watches.
His wardrobe is 70% fashionable jackets/hoodies and 30% everything else.
More often than not, everyone will steal his outerwear, but he doesn’t really mind; he’s very tolerant and forgiving of his friends.
He always chews bubblegum in class while he plays games on his phone.
If he’s not playing on his phone, he’s raging on his handheld game system or he’s reading comic books.
His arms are usually crossed, or he’ll simply stand with one hand on his hip.
Ann will lend Ryuji his flannel in exchange for her stash of sweets, even though he already has sweets in his bag. greedy
Regarding his love for sweets, he is shameless; the opinions and odd glances of others mean nothing to him, and he’ll boldly order his chocolate crepe with extra whipped cream.
In addition to being very charismatic and cheerful, he’s quite lonely at times as well since he’s ostracized for his looks.
That’s partially why he’s so loving toward his friends; they looked past his appearance and saw the beautiful heart within.
Ann makes the mood of the group, so he attempts to remain optimistic with the hope of motivating them.
He’d protect Shiho with his life, and he worries about her on a daily basis.
As far as his Phantom Thief outfit goes, it’s now sleeveless and it accentuates his muscles. The cutout for his chest still remains. he kills everyone because he’s so attractive
A living breathing goddess
Yusuke fashions her hair in a long, tidy braid. in honor of concept Yusuke
Her soft, shiny hair brushes her waist when it’s down, and her bed-head is actually the worst out of the group. Naturally, it looks amazing on her.
Yusuke has the best nails HANDS DOWN because she garnishes them with the most lovely nail art. She offers to paint everyone else’s, too.
Her sense of style is quite similar to Akira’s: minimal, but elegant. She chooses basic colors (mainly blue or neutral colors), and she’d much rather accessorize.
As a matter of fact, her mother left her with the most breathtaking diamond-encrusted earrings that shimmer and dance as they catch the light. Wearing them makes Yusuke feel closer to her mother.
She’s typically seen wearing ballet flats, tights, and a skater skirt with a thin belt for the purpose of fastening her keys to it. The color of the clothing is black, aside from her snowy white dress shirt that she tucks into her skirt.
Makeup is not included in her routine as she can’t keep up with the expenses, but Yusuke has a certain weakness for liquid eyeliner me too, and she applies it flawlessly.
She’s the second tallest of the group, about the same height as Makoto.
Her figure is very slender since she can’t afford to eat, and aside from strolling around the city, she doesn’t exercise much. i want to take care of her
Grace is in every footstep she takes, and her poise is ethereal.
Her skin is as smooth as a baby’s; no one knows how she does it. doctors hate her for it
People don’t approach her because she’s so intimidatingly beautiful, plus her reputation as an ‘eccentric’ precedes her.
Yusuke seems rather ostentatious and pompous on the outside; on the contrary, she is passionate and humble.
Solitude takes its toll on her from time to time, so she unreservedly absorbs herself in painting or sketching without a care for her well-being.
Smiling becomes abundantly more common for her after she befriends the Thieves, and whenever she does…
Her earrings mysteriously glint, even when there is hardly any light.
She initially requested that Ann model for her since he’s unbelievably handsome, but she considers asking Ryuji or Akira because they’re exquisite as well.
Yusuke’s soul is drawn to ice cream regardless of gender. reblog if you ship yusuke x ice cream
She’s very independent and she refuses to be a burden on others even though she struggles (financially and emotionally).
The Thieves offer to pay for her work to alleviate some of her stress, and with a bit of persistence, she accepts; Yusuke earns money, the Thieves receive an OUTSTANDING painting, and it’s a win for everyone.
Taking walks with her friends is one of her favorite hobbies, but she’s hesitant to ask since she assumes they have more productive things to do. She asks anyway because she truly enjoys their company.
It doesn’t take her long to realize that her friends sincerely reciprocate her affection, and that they value her for who she is rather than what she can offer them.
As Fox, she is exceptionally confident, insightful, and quick to make decisions or take initiative when it’s vital.
Her sleeves remain puffy; however, her pearly collar is now off-the-shoulder, and a red ribbon is laced in her braid. She also dons a black satin choker.
Since the bottom half of her jumpsuit is fluffed around her thighs, she can’t help but wonder if her already wide hips appear even wider. yusuke you’re shdfg gorgeous???
Makoto is supremely handsome and he sports a bowl cut. His facial features are keen and his ruby eyes are sharp.
In addition, he’s pretty stylish, and his favorite accessories are brimmed hats and simple ties.
He wears chocolate lace-up ankle boots with the assigned school pants. An ebony vest is worn over the school’s signature white turtleneck.
He actually has quite a fondness for turtlenecks and cardigans. it’s his entire wardrobe
Makoto will always remain the mom friend, even as a male.
He is extremely protective of his friends, particularly the girls, and he’ll put pads/tampons in his carry-on for their sake. marry me
That doesn’t embarrass him in the least, but the Buchimaru pencil case at the bottom of his bag does.
Like the female, he’s studious and erudite; most students are intimidated by him because he emanates a fierce air of dignity.
However, he feels as though his best never seems to be sufficient enough, and his insecurity is exacerbated further when people compare him to his sister.
He adores and respects his sister tremendously; furthermore, he assists her in any way he can, and he secretly works at a part-time job to cover his expenses.
Makoto’s slightly more defiant when people order him around, but he ultimately submits because he’s easily guilt-tripped due to his caring and perfectionistic personality.
He’s very private since he doesn’t want to burden anyone any further, and the only time he can relax is when he listens to music in his room.
He’ll even dance sometimes, and he’s surprisingly talented at it.
As King, he is more dominant and tactical. He tends to be quite smug about it, too.
His outfit is the same, but everyone was flabbergasted by how muscular he is. His shoulders are very broad, and his spiked shoulder pads complement them well. oh no he’s hot
Needless to say, everyone checks him out during battle because that’s when his muscles flex and bulge out of his jumpsuit; furthermore, Fox implores King to model for her, and he just stutters as he breaks out into a sweat.
No one comes to his rescue, either.
He brings nutritious snacks with him into the Metaverse to keep everyone vigilant.
King is the designated piggyback driver, as well as the normal driver. He refuses to do it in public (unless they give him puppy eyes). a god among men
Did you mean 707
Futaba’s body type and facial structure are quite androgynous, so he’s constantly mistaken for a girl.
His fiery hair nearly reaches his waist when it’s down, so he ties it into a bun while keeping his bangs loose.
Cutting and maintaining his hair is the least of his problems, especially when he can’t even bring himself to get out of bed most days.
The group will brush and braid his hair when they hang out at Leblanc.
His face is spotted with freckles.
He’s taller than Akira, but shorter than Haru, thus making him the shortest boy.
The difference in attire is that he wears ripped skinny jeans rather than shorts, and his boots come up to about mid-calf. He’s a casual punk.
His headphones are persistently blasting EDM. same
Futaba’s more extroverted as a male; however, his stomach is in knots every time he interacts with people and his mind is reeling with paranoid thoughts.
Even online, he’s quite nervous about speaking to people.
His brilliance is apparent, though, and he’ll correct others if their information is inaccurate.
He’s an encyclopedia in human form, using his copious accumulation of knowledge to answer any question thrown at him.
One of his favorite pastimes is hacking into his friends’ computers/phones to send them horribly edited pictures or memes with absolutely zero context. me @ myself
Male Futaba is still untidy and snack boxes are littered throughout his room. It drives Makoto insane.
Haru is fascinated by his Phoenix action figures, and the two eventually marathon the show together. They’ll randomly recite quotes, too.
He’s created several well-known indie games, and a few awful simulators. He made a fox and lobster simulator just for Yusuke. she enjoyed it
The Sims is his all-time favorite game, and with the company of Akira and Ryuji, he’ll create the most hideous characters and set them all on fire just for laughs.
Speaking of which, Futaba adores making his friends laugh; it makes him feel loved and wanted.
He’ll offer tips to Mishima regarding the improvement of the Phan-site out of the kindness of his heart. it’s out of pity
They get along quite well, and both of them can and will relentlessly crush anyone at video games.
His Oracle outfit is the same, except he clips his bangs out of his face, wears a hood, and he carries snacks in his pockets as well as Necronomicon.
Necronomicon ends up cleaning up after him.
Haru wears bowties and he is unafraid to wear his pink sweater. A dress shirt is underneath, and the collar, along with the sleeves, protrude from his sweater.
He abides by the dress code in regard to his trousers; however, he wears black and white oxfords with stars strewn across them. His style is very flamboyant.
Like Futaba and Makoto, he lacks piercings.
His body type is slim yet fit, thanks to his nutritionist and personal trainer.
Haru’s strawberry-blonde hair is kept short and curly; even when it’s unkempt (very rare) it still looks trendy and sleek.
He always smells like flowers.
Male Haru is no longer engaged, rather, he is threatened and beaten by Sugimura.
The abuser harasses him often, stating that he’s going to destroy the Okumura name, and that he’ll use Haru as a puppet before selling him as a slave.
Haru’s father is not concerned in the slightest; he simply says that Sugimura is just ‘acting out’.
Part of the reason Haru wears such modest clothes is to disguise the bruises.
Due to his abuse, he has difficulty placing his trust in others; besides, people only seem to like him when they want something, right?
Despite everything, Haru remains very soft-spoken and well-mannered. It’s in his nature.
When he’s with his friends, his dimpled cheeks ache from laughing and smiling so much. good
He’ll take Yusuke out to luxurious restaurants; they share similar palettes, and it’s an excuse to feed her.
He is the one that gives the best hugs, by far.
Noir’s attire consists of the same coloring as the female counterpart; the differences are that his vest covers his chest and a rose brooch adorns the upper-left side, his cravat is arranged in the shape of a bow-tie, he sports thigh-high musketeers boots with golden embellishments along the seams/edges, and his puffy purple bloomers are neatly tucked into his shoes. it looks really cool in my head
Noir’s inner sadist is revealed; he’s exponentially more dominant and relentless on the battlefield than his female counterpart.
He’s also more vocal; he’ll taunt, chuckle, and smirk during the entire confrontation.
He really can’t help himself; he just feels so alive and powerful, which is something he doesn’t experience in his daily life.
The rest of the Thieves understand and don’t judge him too harshly. since they’re guilty of it too
too pretty to be wrong
The length of Akechi’s voluminous chestnut hair is maintained between her waist and her hips. Her bangs are always kept loose and they complement her delicate, porcelain face, and she’ll wear a black hairband as an accessory.
In addition, during summer she’ll remove the hairband and adorn her side ponytail with a black ribbon that’s neatly tied into a bow.
Akechi dons her typical beige pea-coat and black slacks / gloves; however, she’ll wear sophisticated black heels as opposed to loafers. Her school uniform’s striped bow tie is knotted around her collar.
During the summer, she’ll sport a pencil skirt with black tights underneath.
Akechi’s typical fashion sense is very chic and sophisticated; she’s fond of skater skirts, pleated high-waist shorts, sleek turtlenecks, collared blouses, and anything remotely trendy.
She hardly wears accessories, save for her golden stud earrings.
Her build is lean yet toned due to exercise and a mostly healthy diet.
Akechi has a strict skincare regimen, and her makeup is kept minimal; all she really requires is eyeliner, mascara, and a light BB cream.
She’s more bubbly than her male counterpart, yet she still maintains an air of confidence and professionalism.
She’s less respected as a detective since her appearance tends to overshadow her accomplishments, and her bond with Sae is more tense due to their competitive natures.
Trust comes less easily to the female version of Akechi, so despite her seemingly amicable and civil interactions with Akira, she’s constantly on her guard.
When she visits Leblanc in the evening for coffee, she’s extremely hesitant to reveal her complex past to Akira. However, she counters this, convincing herself that the onyx-haired leader isn’t the type to be judgmental.
The rest of the Thieves are relatively indifferent to her since she publicly debauched them and their cause.
Although she’s never seen eating them in public, Akechi secretly adores sweets, and because Akira knows this she’ll add cream with sugar to Akechi’s coffee.
As Crow, Akechi allows a fraction of her facile demeanor to subside, revealing a flamboyant and rather glib personality. She’s easily excitable, too. she’s a huge dork
Her thief garb includes a pair of gold-plated olive branches on both sides of her head, partially pinning her hair back.
Most of her outfit is consistent with the male version’s except the features are that of a knight, rather than a prince.
Her gold belt forms a V-shape in the front with the gray part of her top flaring out on both sides of her hips in a wing-like shape, ending mid-thigh.
The sleeves of Akechi’s arms are more form-fitting in addition to her pants, and her white boots–decorated with golden adornments–trail up to her knees; the front of the boots actually cover her knees to function as kneepads.
the outfit sounds complicated but it looks really amazing in my head
As for Akechi’s alternate garb, it’s the same as the male counterpart’s, and her hair is tucked into a bun underneath the helmet.
She’s eerily calm during her boss fights, even when she makes herself psychotic; however, she lashes out on both instances of her defeat since she despises her own weakness.
In regards to the question about Renly, my question would be, is there a better way forward for his general political direction? Like a permanent great council and elective monarchy in the future seems like a possibility to me.
That is absolutely not Renly’s “general political direction” and it points to how Renly is profoundly misunderstood by the fandom. Despite his pretentions to meritocracy and popularity, Renly does not believe in the concept of an elective monarchy or Great Councils at all. He says this directly:
“Robb will set aside his crown if you and your brother will do the same,” she said, hoping it was true. She would make it true if she must; Robb would listen to her, even if his lords would not. “Let the three of you call for a Great Council, such as the realm has not seen for a hundred years. We will send to Winterfell, so Bran may tell his tale and all men may know the Lannisters for the true usurpers. Let the assembled lords of the Seven Kingdoms choose who shall rule them.”
Renly laughed. “Tell me, my lady, do direwolves vote on who should lead the pack?” Brienne brought the king’s gauntlets and greathelm, crowned with golden antlers that would add a foot and a half to his height. “The time for talk is done. Now we see who is stronger.” Renly pulled a lobstered green-and-gold gauntlet over his left hand, while Brienne knelt to buckle on his belt, heavy with the weight of longsword and dagger.”
When you take away the witty repartee, Renly’s political theory is naked tyranny - his personal excellence or popularity only matter to the extent that they attract soldiers to install him as king by force of arms, and you can see how paper-thin those rationalizations are when Catelyn tells him to put his money where his mouth is and stand for election in front of the political community and Renly says no.
I’m honestly perplexed how people keep missing the fact that Renly is a hollow man: the thematics are everywhere, from Donal Noye comparing him to copper to Maester Cressen remembering him as a pageantry-obsessed attention-seeking child. The tragedy of Brienne in ACOK is that Renly doesn’t give a damn about her (as Loras says later, “Renly thought she was absurd. A woman dressed in man’s mail, pretending to be a knight”), he only gives her the cloak because Barristan didn’t show up and he knows he can make use of her (“He said that all his other knights wanted things of him, castles or honors or riches, but all that Brienne wanted was to die for him”), he knows she’s in love with him and treats her like a dog he can summon and dismiss whenever he wants (”His words seemed to strike the girl harder than any blow she had taken that afternoon. “As you will, Your Grace.” Brienne sat, eyes downcast.”).
And as I’ve explained in my recaps of AGOT and ACOK, Renly does all of this knowing that Joffrey is not Robert’s heir, that Stannis is telling the truth, that he himself has no right to be king. HE IS A BAD MAN WITH GOOD PR.
A/N: So I finally finished this little story! (I use the word little loosely, because it’s longer than most I’ve written!) It’s about Barba and a maltese puppy! This was inspired by and is dedicated to @larkistin, whose artwork fits perfectly. HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, I would have finished this sooner, had a not been distracted by a certain maltesers man. Thanks @minidodds for checking it, dunno what I’d do without you!
It had been a long, arduous day for the counselor. Nothing he couldn’t handle, but there were days when the depravity of mankind left our illustrious ADA wondering where the beauty in the world was hidden. With the summer solstice rapidly approaching, it was still light out when Rafael walked down the steps of the courthouse.
His first thought was to grab one final cup of coffee before heading home, but a small voice in his head spoke up.
Remember what the doctor said? Low levels of vitamin D! ‘Spend more time outside’, that was his advice.
Rafael had been forced to attend his annual health check up by his mother, after successfully avoiding it for the past five years. The doctor had pronounced that the only thing wrong with him was a significant deficiency in vitamin D and he had been strongly encouraged to spend more time outdoors.
Eyes had most certainly rolled, but his doctor had been totally unaffected by Rafael’s apparent witty repartee. Spend more time outdoors, the doctor called, as Rafael hastily left his office. Now his voice echoed through Rafael’s mind.
Hello little peanuts. I have returned with a gift for you.
What if everyone knew about Draco’s crush on Harry (and Harry’s crush on Draco) and Pansy decides, with the help of one Hermione Granger, to come up with passwords each week that will torture one of them into admitting it.
I'm writing an R-rated Disney fanfiction that deals with Jewish versions of Alice (from Alice in Wonderland) and Merlin (from Sword in the Stone) battling against zombie neo-Nazis and other threats. How do I write battle scenes? And what should I do if a toddler character is caught in a violent situation?
Hello, darling! That sounds like a fantastic kinda terrifying fanfiction! When it’s finished, be sure to let me know if you publish it online – I’d love to give it a read :)
So these are two very different questions. For the issue of the toddler, I’d prefer a little more insight into what you’re asking – do you want to know how the child would react emotionally/mentally to the situation? How the adults should react? I’ll also need to know what kind of violent scenario you’re entertaining, since the answer would vary in differing degrees of violence, or in the presence of comforting adults, etc.
But your first question – how to write battle scenes – is a common issue that I’ve yet to discuss here! So I’ll give you a few personal tips, then link you to other resources :)
The Rules of Battle (Scenes)
There are two types of “battle scenes”: duels and wars.
Duel: a battle between two (or, for the sake of the example, three or four) individuals, composing its own scene. A duel involves people in the immediate vicinity, and, typically, main or secondary characters. (Examples: lightsaber duels in Star Wars; the battle at the cornucopia in Hunger Games.)
War: a battle between two or more groups of people, which is composed of multiple scenes – either summarized overall by the narrator or shown through duel scenes. A war involves many people, usually including stock characters or “bodies”. (Examples: Battle of Helms Deep in Lord of the Rings; the battle at Hogwarts in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.)
It’s important to recognize that while both types of battle scenes can stand alone, wars don’t tend to fare well in fiction. Massive battles are riveting on a movie screen, but they’re difficult to capture on a page, without visuals – so the more you can lean on individual duels, involving characters your readers care about, the more tension you’ll be able to develop.
So I’ll lay out my… um… my ten duel commandments.
Actually just five.
Be quick and unspecific. When two people fight, they’re not thinking full thoughts or planning what they’re doing. They’re not noticing the feeling of their knuckles clacking against someone’s jaw. They’re not admiring the shiny rose-colored blood as it trickles from their enemy’s nose. What they’re doing is clumsy and half-instinct. Feelings only appear in flashes – sweat gets in their eyes and blood rushes in their ears, and things take them by surprise. If they’re thinking anything, it’s probably something along the lines of, “Oh, sh*t,” as they see their opponent’s fist heading for their face.
Keep it physical. I think everyone can agree that when you’re watching two characters face off and they keep stopping to exchange witty repartee, it’s eye-roll-worthy. This trope needs to die. If you want it to be realistic, have Character A start to monologue until Character B notices they’re off-guard and goes for the throat. But please, don’t use a battle scene as a dialogue machine. If words are kept rare, then when they are used – when Character A winds up backing Character B into a wall with nowhere to go, and A sees the fear of god in B’s eyes as they whisper, “Okay, okay, okay wait…” – they gain real weight.
Mix it up a lil’ bit. No matter how much people love your characters, they’re not gonna sit through a stereotypical, you-hit-me, I-hit-you, oh-look-at-that-we-both-hit-each-other-and-threw-each-other-off, so-we-back-up-and-stare-at-each-other-menacingly. Seriously. We’ve seen it all before. Instead, interchange small blows with spats of violent throat-grabbing, kicking, hair-grabbing, shoulder-dislocating – if your characters have weapons, break them, or make your characters drop them. Just don’t let be it predictable.
Don’t forget mistakes. Your characters will have varying levels of experience or training, and even a warrior with decades of training will make mistakes. Opponents are unpredictable, and even their body can fail them. If a character is newly trained, they should fall a lot. They should drop their weapon, or scream, or try to reason with their opponent, or stumble into things because they aren’t totally connected to their surroundings. They should scream out for help from their allies. Mistakes are endearing and realistic, and they increase the stakes.
Scare your characters. There are no stakes if your characters feel confident in what they’re doing. Let it hit your MC that just one miss, one bad decision, could take their life. Let them notice the look in their opponent’s eye – that look that says they will kill your MC if they get the opportunity. Don’t give them never-ending cockiness. I don’t care how many years they’ve trained, what weapon they have, or what god they believe in – failure is always an option, and it threatens your character with every blow. Don’t lose that tension.
Those are just basic thoughts, but if you have any more questions, my inbox is open! As for resources for battle scenes:
@howtofightwrite is a great blog to field any more specific questions I can’t answer.
C O R S E T S & C R A V A T S | (cover art by Val) / (a belated present for Megan); step back to an era of manners and exquisite fashion, where extraordinary excess and extravagant indulgence ruled the gilded ballrooms, and one’s reputation was everything…
“I love you. I love you desperately, violently, tenderly, completely. I want to talk with you forever. I remember every word you’ve ever said to me.
If only I could visit you as a foreigner goes into a new country, learn the language of you, wander past all borders into every private and secret place, I would stay forever. I would become a citizen of you.
You would say it’s too soon to feel this way. You would ask how I could be so certain. But some things can’t be measured by time. Ask me an hour from now. Ask me a month from now. A year, ten years, a lifetime. The way I love you will outlast every calendar, clock, and every toll of every bell that will ever be cast…”
Stiles puttered around the kitchen in a pair of boxers and one of Derek’s stretched out shirts that had one too many holes from clumsy claws. Theoretically, the shirt should fit him. They were roughly the same height, but Derek’s impressive bulk had only gotten bulkier over the years. The dude was shredded. Stiles totally loved it.
It was strange to be dwarfed by his own boyfriend - a boyfriend that was only two inches taller than him, as he reminded Derek regularly. But the shirt hung off his slightly more trim figure. He wasn’t a twig. He had muscle. Sure, it was leaner, but it was there. For whatever reason, Derek thought he was sexy, and Stiles could live with that.
The best part of wearing Derek’s clothes was that they smelled like Derek. Surreptitiously sniffing things must have been a habit Stiles picked up from years of running with a wolf pack because Derek smelled damn good to him. So good, that Stiles liked to smother himself in Derek’s scent, not that his werewolf boyfriend seemed to mind. In fact, Derek encouraged it.
Stiles still recalled disgust the first time Derek rubbed his cum into Stiles’ skin and bathed him with saliva. Now, it was just a part of the experience. It wasn’t a good time until Stiles was covered in spunk and werewolf kisses. The cuddling was nice too.
Stiles lifted the corner of one of the slices of French Toast in the pan to check for optimal brownage. Yes, that was the technical term. It was a nice golden colour, so he flipped it out onto the plate already stacked with four other slices. He sprinkled a little icing sugar over the top and drizzled maple syrup. The real stuff. Not the fake, artificially flavoured sugar in a bottle usually sold in grocery stores. Living with a werewolf had definitely improved Stiles’ tastes, though curly fries were still the greatest thing ever.
A plate of fresh French Toast in hand, Stiles padded barefoot into the common living area where Derek was currently parked on the couch with his laptop and headphones. The bass from his latest mix pulsed loud enough that Stiles could hear it. He always wondered how Derek could listen to music so loud with his extra-sensitive hearing. But it was that hearing that allowed Derek to do what he did.
Becoming a DJ had been something Derek sort fell into. For the first few months - seven, actually - Derek hadn’t had a lot to do in New York, but apparently, Stiles’ taste in music sucked. So, with his super ears, Derek set out to create what Stiles believed to be genius level tracks that worked on so many different levels, and even managed to slip in a few little easter eggs for other supernaturally inclined that may happen to listen.
“Der,” Stiles called. “Breakfast.” He leaned over the back of the couch and pecked his boyfriend on the cheek. “Stop working, snugglewolf, and spend some time with me before I go to class later.”
Derek snorted and set the giant headphones he used for mixing aside with his laptop. “If I have to,” he said.
Stiles faux gasped, a hand over his heart, and held Derek’s breakfast hostage out of reach, but Derek grabbed him by the back of the neck and dragged him down into a sloppy kiss.
“I think they used it in that one series, “Super Bash Sisters”.“ “You mean "Super Smash Bros.”?“ "My, aren’t we manly?” “You’re going to send me a machine-gun-robot girlfriend?” “Looks like all that Dr. Mario is about to pay off!” “Why are you all doom and gloom all the time?” “You know how a chicken takes three steps and then forgets?” “I AM NOT DOING A COMB-OVER!” “Every warrior knows that cowardice is the foundation upon which victory is built.” “I’m part angel, part ANIMAL!” “STAY OUT OF SWINGING RANGE!” “Nothing gets the blood pumping like things that go “BOOM!”.” “Now all I need is another one of me, and a way to shoot lasers out of my eyes.” “It’s like I was born to shoot stuff with a stick!” “Here to crash my homecoming party?” “Uh… This really doesn’t look like much of a party.” “What better way to celebrate my return than with a festive little bloodbath?” “Your days of darkness are numbered. Prepare to meet the light!” “Get ready for a display of raw angel power!” “It’s like a birthday party where everyone wants to kill me.” “Well, I didn’t expect to see an angel here. Hope this doesn’t mean I’ve kicked the bucket.” “Pleased to meet you. Don’t hit me, and we’ll get along just fine.” “Humans are driven by desire. It’s convenient to know what bait they’ll chase.” “Sorry I’m late. I had other business to attend to.” “Everyone shut up and focus!” “Get up, fall down. Get up, fall down. Fight in the air, fight on the ground.” “Peaks and valleys, highs and lows. Pick your friends, not your nose.” “It’s my patented monster pheromone! Monsters just LOVE the smell of it. And now it’s all over you!” “Despite my winsomness and equanimity, I do have a strong streak of rascality.” “Even though I almost died, I’ve really enjoyed our time together.” “Do I LOOK like a strategy guide? In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t the Ask Auntie Pandora hour.” “You don’t see me breaking into your home and criticizing your style.” “You’re just jealous of my knack for interior design AND my flair for spelling.” “I thought trampolines would add a touch of whimsy to my humble abode.” “I should’ve gone to school for goddessry.” “Nothing works up an appetite like dodging enemy fire!” “Maybe your faith in her isn’t quite so absolute after all.” “Oh, no worries. I minored in branchial respiration.” “Humans consist of equal parts hubris, envy, and deceit. Sometimes one has to put them in their place.” “I’ll have you know that I much prefer honey to vinegar. And I prefer witty repartee to any condiment!” “I have no such thing! None whatsoever! Honestly. HONESTLY.” “The story doesn’t end there. See, there’s also this space-pirate ship…” “He’s like, "Yar, I’ll make ye walk the space plank, scurvy dog!”. That’s just a loose translation.“ "A space Kraken?! Well that came out of nowhere.” “We’re gonna rack up some serious Nintendogs trainer points together!” “Your chances of winning are lower than your belly button! Which is really low!” “I’ll strip you of your wings and sever you from the heavens forever.” “Who are you calling huge, you insignificant little thing?” “Sorry to keep you waiting. But now that I’m here, let’s get this party started.”
“Deceptive Little Parasite” Lucifer 2x15 Reaction’d *spoilers* [aired 5/8/17]
Non spoilers: In my humble opinion, much MUCH better than 2x14. I’d rate it 8.5/10 “Detectives!” which could have been 9/10 if all the humor hit the marks. The fan service is really strong in this episode, and it’s hammy but more eloquently funny than 2x14, with enough emotional contrast particularly with Lucifer & Amenadiel and Lucifer & Trixie to be interesting. Last, and probably best,
TRIXSTAR IS SUPER STRONG in this ep. Spoilers Ahead:
“[Shall I] Dip [the blade] in whiskey and light a match?” That’s what I would do, except what should probably happen is dip in whiskey > drink whiskey > light match.
“[The blade’s] Not a groovy mood ring” I beg to differ, it’s a kick ass mood ring.
Lucifer and Amenadiel - Classic brotherly qualms. I really missed this.
Lucifer to Linda: “That my dad is Morgan Freeman? Focus doctor.” This has to be the best one liner of the episode. Sidenote: It would be great, I think, if Lucifer’s dad came back as Father Frank or in the image of Father Frank. I mean, I’ve been dreaming of that FOREVER!
How much has Lucifer been paying Linda per session? She should be a billionaire by now.
The breakfast scene with Maze and Chloe didn’t hit the comedy notes for me. Great on the page but something didn’t play.
“Tall nonfat almond milk latte with sugar free caramel drizzle and no vodka this time“ No wonder this show is so lively. #AllAbouttheFood
“Crime solving divorcees…cracking a joke you don’t like check back to normal in no time” / “not until you’re whining about how boring the case is”/ “Lucifer’s projecting his personal issues onto the case, guess we’re back to normal.” Way to twist the metaphorical knofe with witty repartee.
“I just can’t believe it“
phone-it-in line about someone being killed.
Tree of Knowledge -esque logo for the school - suspicious or just a nice little ironic insert?
“Triple Decker“ okay now I’m laughing, 2nd best one liner of the episode.
LUCIFER TAKING TRIXIE TO SCHOOL! All my dreams are one by one coming true! Fan service! “For my partner I can sacrifice”
I said I would drive you to school, I never said which one - CLASSIC MORNINGSTAR IS BACK, totally brought me back to “I said I’d let you go alone, I never said anything about following.”
Trixie “Morningstar” holding Lucifer’s hand hostage = Blessing
Trixie gets all the gold stars, she runs this episode
, Lucifer and Trixie have their own club. The world is good!
“This is a picture of my mommy stabbing Debbie” FACEPALM. I take it back, the world is a ridiculous place.
OH MY GOD, I knew it, Trixie bargained for driving lessons! It was just wishful thinking, but now it actually exists in canon!
Don’t throw me into the Corvette (so I guess we’re just gonna breeze through the fact that mum withheld / lied about her super strength, no biggie, not yet another deception)
The second scene between Chloe and Maze works 1000% better than the first one “Trixie will slash them with her words, and then I will teach her the knives” PUT THAT ON MY TV ASAP!
I have died, I have died and gone to heaven. The two mommies bit it pure gold.
Mazikeen: [about Chloe] “Real pistol in the sack, too.” I SCREAMED WITH JOY at a pitch so fierce that my dog freaked out, and then I danced.
For once, I really wish Chloe wasn’t wearing an oversized coat that she’s swimming in because I want to see that backside slap in full detail. Maze is queen.
Illegal duplicate of the Detective’s car keys, can’t decide #stalker or #married
Mazikeen would be a fantastic rugby player
I LOVE the CHLOE & TRIXIE talk. “We never have to pretend with each other.” More, please more!
I can’t decide who takes the lead in this episode more, Trix or Mazikeen, but I love it.
The way Amenadiel looks at Lucifer when he is in pain holding Azrael’s blade is enough to break anyone and everyone. Him standing up for his little brother is everything I never knew I wanted yet desperately needed. For heaven’s sake stop breaking my heart!
blue have you thought about all the fun you can have with some boys names, like I love getaway he is a lovable douche but all the possibilities,, like if he ever pisses you off you can just ask him if he got his name because everyone wants him to getaway
Pfffffft! XD Getaway absolutely HATES people making puns out of his name! Not because he’s offended, but because he hears the same ones All. The. Time. Like, yes, well done, you. How clever. You’re the first person who’s ever thought to say that. I am absolutely in awe of your witty repartee. -___-
“Bless you,” I say to the woman holding open the door. I could’ve played it off as a polite gesture with good Christian intentions, but awkward people don’t think on their feet. They stumble over them with the dexterity of clumsy consumers in infomercials. If only there was an overpriced, useless kitchen gadget to rid me of my ineptitude. I’d buy it for four payments of $19.99 and whisk my way into frivolous small talk with ease.
In the meantime my world exists entirely within the five seconds of awkward silence following a bad joke. I stammer, combine words into unintelligible gibberish, and snort suddenly and violently with the fervor of an uncontrollable fart.
If social charisma were a muscle in the body, one you’d strengthen over time to hold conversation with, mine would be atrophied. A deteriorating slab of rotting tissue that fell from the bone like ash from a cigarette. I am only getting weaker. Unable to pull my weight in a game of witty repartee, I use hollow laughter as my only retort. I am a vacuous cave of echoed thought, dim and continuously dwindling in confidence.
But what I lack in conversational skills, I gain tenfold in passive aggressive body language. For instance, an aloof chin tilt and slight turn of the shoulders would mean: “I am no longer interested in talking about the weather and will likely walk away soon.” This comes in handy when I find myself cornered by middle-aged extroverts at social engagements—e.g., weddings, reunions, thanksgiving dinners. Unfortunately, this does not work well on the phone. And if I’ve asked whomever is on the line to repeat themselves more than once, I will almost certainly pause and respond with “yes” or change the subject as if I’m not the slightest bit concerned with what they said.
As I age, I am confronted by the fact that social skills are much like driving skills, in that they don’t noticeably improve with time. It’s as if we were born designated to a modicum of certain capabilities, fateful drawbacks chosen carefully by the gods: “here shall John always stumble; there shall Jane’s heart always break.” But by accepting my own limitations, my own awkwardness, (and perhaps my inability to parallel park) I am essentially admitting defeat, alienating myself from a rich and colorful world full of potential friendships, experiences, and parking spaces.
My mother is one of those people who likes to know personal details about people, not because she’s a sneaky, gossipy person, but just because she’s caring and thinks about people based on their personal lives.
So, when I talk to one of my friends for several hours, my mother will ask me how they’re doing and questions about their lives.
And I’ll just be standing there saying, “Um, I dunno.”
Because I don’t know. Do you really think I wasted three hours of my life talking about health and the weather? Um, no. I was actually engaged in a discussion on literary theory or perhaps a series of witty repartee involving horrifyingly deep, triple-layered puns or perhaps a lengthy discourse about that fascinating Greenland shark study that I just read about in a scientific journal. Seriously, though, those sharks live to be almost four hundred years old.
Ahem. Moving right along.
The point is, I love having deep conversations, and I’m ready to plunge right in when I start talking to my friends. On the other hand, I rarely have personal conversations, and I hardly ever ask how someone is doing. Rather, I’ll ask about a writing project or for further thoughts on a previous deep conversation.It’s not that I don’t care, but as an INTP, I simply don’t connect with people.
I connect with ideas.
So, when I get asked to describe people, I’m not going to be able to tell you all that much about them. The truth is, I don’t see the need to know that much about them unless they want me to know. Personal lives are important, I understand, but I don’t want to talk about them. (It’s the same thought process that makes excessive photography so distasteful to me.) Much better to live your life than to relive it.
But I’ll gladly spend three hours on a conversation about sharks.
Don't listen to the mean asker. I heard you smell like cotton candy and dark chocolate and give the best hugs! They're only missing out by running away. *hugs*
awwww @mc-of-my-life you’re just a gem, you absolute sweetheart you. And I actually do smell like cotton candy! The perfume that I wear, well one of them, kinda smells like cotton candy ^_^ ALL THE HUGS FOR YOU THEN!!!!
and calling out @feelsgood-anon :p YOURE LUCKY I LOVE YOU JERKFACE hahaha (yes, I’m 30 and a productive adult and an obvious conduit of witty repartee)
Also huge thanks to @kateyes224 for the ego boost, late night typo checks and being such a babe!
Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully Additional Tags: Early MSR, Deleted Scene, Canon divergent, First Time Read it on AO3 here or….
She tells herself it’s responsibility that makes her take out her pager at the table, that it’s duty driving her to the phone, that the electricity running from his lips into her ear is static and nothing less professional. She had told herself the same thing that morning, when his slight recoil at the thought of her on a date called every tiny hair on her spine to stand to attention. Better to blame overzealous air conditioning for the thrill running through her than admit that she, Dana Scully, wanted her partner to care whether or not she was dating.
And she definitely hadn’t dressed with him in mind, hadn’t deliberately stretched white lace over the curves her work suits hide so completely. There was no ulterior motive when she painted her lips red and admired the cream of her skin peeking through the false modesty of the sheer blouse, no idea that she might take a detour on her way home to some crisis or crime scene and get to find out whether his gaze lingers longer on the slim circle of her waist, the flash of gold at her collarbone or the seamlessly smooth curve of her ass.
No. None of it was for Mulder. It had all been for the man across the table from her. Rob. At least she’s pretty sure his name is Rob though he’s spoken of nothing but his child for the last two courses so it could be the kid’s name. Probably-Rob is handsome enough and responsible enough to tick all her mother’s boxes and most of Scully’s own and yet… her mind slips once again out of the side door of the conversation to explore the dark alleys and twisted connections of her work on the X-Files. Her work with Mulder.
This date was supposed to be a distraction, a flattering diversion from running headlong into this tempting new mystery. When she quit medicine for the FBI she promised herself she would take her time choosing her next steps, tempering instinct with rationale so she is able to justify to Ahab and to herself, the merit of her decisions. And so tonight she chose to be here, with Probably-Rob and his family anecdotes instead of with Mulder, fast food and tall tales of beast-men and evolutionary anomalies. Empirically she knows it was the smart choice but it feels so wrong. It’s not that she doesn’t like Rob, or that she dislikes children or the idea of having them, but the conversation seems so painfully domestic, so numbly similar to the ones she overheard week-on-week in church growing up that despite her best attempts to pay attention she finds herself contemplating a lamp in the corner that looks like a flying saucer and wondering how long it would have taken Mulder to crack a joke about it.
She notices a silence and realises that she is meant to have responded, to be engaging in some witty first-date repartee and all she can do is smile tightly and quietly thank God for the arrival of dessert. Probably-Rob’s eyes light up at his strudel which matches, almost perfectly, the beige of his hair and suit and his enthusiasm for the pallid dessert far outweighs the vague warmth with which he told Scully she looked good upon arrival. There’s nothing wrong with him, he’s an attentive date and is more than holding up his half of their interaction, but as the minutes tick by Scully is forced to acknowledge that it is not a conversation she is interested in having. That for now, this well-meaning, gently patronising family man is the last thing she wants. She wants to be reckless, to test the limits of science and reality and herself and that the place to do that is at Mulder’s side.
The press, indeed, never tired of praising his deeds, his manner and his words, daily quoting his individual remarks and lively and witty repartee, for which Bonaparte shared a talent with the Parisians.
Bonaparte’s capacity for work, his integrity and strength of character were the principal source of surprise and the Parisians were impressed by his brisk and decisive manner and sober dress since, apart from the charm of his look and smile, his physical appearance was not obviously attractive. His youth also was much admired; Bonaparte was not yet 30. Respect and reverence may be felt for a leader full of years, but admiration is greater when that leader is in the flush of youth and shows great madurity of judgement and foresight.
There was yet another facet to the relationship between Bonaparte and Paris. The capital loves show, the more perhaps because its daily life is one long show. Balzac wrote that this great city’s boulevards were the scene of a ‘continuous drama’ and spoke of the 'million actors’ who make up the great dramatic company of Paris. The effect of Bonaparte’s advent was to bring drama to a climax and endow the city’s 'play’ with unusual vigor and attraction.