#pvritvp

A quick and easy plotting guide (x)accepting!

Send me ✔ and I will bold my preferences for your muse!

My muse(s):

Do I know your muse(s): yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse

Setting: our verse | my verse | your verse | modern | alternate universe | other

Pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship

Possible relationships: friends | classmate | co-worker | roommate | family, real or adopted | dating or blind date | married | friends with benefits | unrequited love | lending a hand | teacher - student | rivals | allies | partner-in-crime | enemies | protecter - guarded | business partners | spy - infiltrated | manipulator - manipulated | star-crossed | first meeting | other

I’m in the mood for: fluff | angst | horror | romance | humor | crime | hurt / comfort | action | supernatural | slice of life | crack | dark threads | light threads | any genre | multi-para | shorter para | one-line | any length | plotted threads | unplotted threads | other

Send me a ♡ and I’ll make a musing with some lyrics from the song I’m currently listening to.

Got a ticket for a world where we belong, So would you be my baby? 

The year 2104 is a harsh one for humanity, the tarsians have done reputable damage to the Earth and resources are at an all time low, the population is on the brink of extinction, and the human army is using its last fleet to save the world. They’re fighting a losing battle. Yifan can’t remember the last time he’s seen something the green color of a plant life form, he doesn’t remember music sounds like, he doesn’t remember what a human figure looks like, having always been given digital instructions in the form of secret coding he has to decipher on the spot before it erases itself in the case that the enemy attacks at the given moment. 

He can’t remember a lot of things from his past, but then again, he’s been in space for a good sixty years. He doubts many of those things he once knew still exist due to the interstellar war. He sits in the cockpit of his fighter rocket, staring mindlessly at what was left of the once proud red rock of amalthea, the third moon of Jupiter, victimized by one of the most recent battles. There is nothing to be scavenged here, from either side, no ship scraps, no tarsian bodies to take in and dissect to observe, nothing.

Yifan’s eyes flicker towards the sudden glow of his tablet lighting up, the smallest hint of a saddened smile coming to his lips as he opens the email that must have taken days to arrive at last, the delivery speed growing slower and slower the further he dives into the galaxy.  

Yifan, how are you? I hope this message finds you safe and well. 

I have recently turned 42. It’s been a long few years, but I’m still fighting through it. The soldiers have moved us into a smaller camp up North, I don’t know where it is exactly, but the last notable landmark I saw was what remains of the Eiffel tower. I’m scared, Yifan. 

Meili passed two years ago. She died on the night of her 86th birthday, holding a picture of you close. Her funeral was small and quiet, it had to be or else the soldiers would have punished us. The tarsians did a number in the Asian continent again, it hit our hometown. It’s a good thing we no longer live there, huh?

Sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I wanted you to know this all before something gets intercepted, or I don’t make it to a time where I can comfortably tell it. Be safe, stay strong, we love you so much.

-Xiaofan

His heart sinks to the pits of his stomach with every word he reads as he finally raises his eyes enough to look at the date at which it was sent. June 21st, 2103. More than six months ago. 

new year’s starters (x)accepting!