#thirdperson

[lunamoonstone13]

Lieutenant's Medic

This was just something that came to my mind at like 3am. At first I wanted this to be an omega verse story but decided against it. This is not proof read in the slightest and I am heavily dyslexic so i'm heavily relying on google to sure things are spelt and sound right.

WARNINGS: there are none this is not smut or angst just a stupid mini story. I am also fully aware that this character(s) do not act like this I just thought it'd be a funny story.

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Your morning started off as any morning did. You wake up, shower, eat breakfast in the mess hall, then head to the medical center to start your day organizing paperwork and taking inventory on the medical supplies on hand. When you first started working in the medical field you never thought you'd work with the military you thought the most action you'd see was stupid teenagers coming into the clinic doing stupid things like blowing up fireworks in their hands as part of a stupid dare. Anyway here you are working on a military base working with people who see the worst type of people almost daily.

On base your considered a "special case" because you are one of the few medics on base that can get any member of the 141 to actually take care of themselves when it comes to taking downtime to take care of injuries or themselves mentally. You especially get onto the teams lieutenant for not letting his injuries heal. Soap calls you the Lieutenant's Special Medic because you seem to be the only one he genuinely listens to when it comes to taking his health seriously. Even their captain is happy with the work you've done to get one of his men to take care of themselves.

Your work relationship with Lieutenant Riley or Ghost is weird. While working in the med bay you get a visit from someone who somehow manages to hurt themselves, so much so you being to think he was doing it on purpose just to see you.

You sigh when you realize who just walked into your med bay. "Soap what did you break this time?" Turning around to face him only to be met with a perfectly health and uninjured Soap.

"Nothin' lass. Jus came to tell you somethin' is all." He replies looking pretty smug about something.

You raise an eyebrow giving him a questioning look, "Oh really? What could be so important you came straight to the med bay to tell me?"

Soap's smirk grows like he's planning some massive surprise party. "A little birdy told me that you put someone on a medical discharge until their injuries were completely healed."

It takes you a second to understand what it is he's referring to. Realizing he's talking about Ghost who is obviously not taking it easy for his recovery. The same Ghost who was wheeled into your medical bay unconscious due the many life-threatening injuries he sustained during his last mission.

You sigh again. "Where is he?" You reply grabbing a small medical bag in case any of his stitches ripped. "Is he in the gym sparring or doing anything that would rip stitches?" You ask turning to him already knowing what the answer may be.

"He's in the gym sparring with the Recruits in proper hand to hand combat. And I think that him sparring would rip open stitches would it not?" Soap replies to your question.

A groan leaves your throat, "Yes, yes it can. You only came to tell me cause you want to see me tell him a new one didn't you?" You look towards him with a knowing look.

Soap lets out a hearty laugh nodding his head and stepping off to the side so you can start making your way to the training gym. It takes you 15 minutes to get to the gym to see Ghost sparring with a recruit. You watch as he knocks said recruit to the mat telling them exactly what was wrong with their positioning and posture. You walk towards the mat with your arms crossed over your chest waiting until Ghost realizes your there.

Its takes about a minute for him to say anything to you after telling the recruits to run laps around base for failing to knock him to the ground during the training. "Yes Doc'" he says finally looking towards you.

I sigh realizing that I need to start by checking his stitches to make sure everything is still together. "Let me see your stitches Ghost. Need to make sure none ripped." I walk up to him on the mat waiting for him to make a move to do anything.

He complies lifting his shirt only to see that a few of his stitches did in fact rip. "Is that all?" He asks. "Thought you came here to rip me a new one for not listening to the med leave order."

"Oh I thought about it. The Great Lieutenant Ghost getting ripped a new one by his medic because he can't listen to simple orders of no sparring, lifting weights over 10 pounds, and resting so his injuries can heal properly did come across my mind." I reply starting to clean and dress the now ripped stitches. "By the way Soap was the snitch this time. I do have half a mind to tell Price that you aren't listening to the medical order."

"But your not?" He asks wincing when I place a cotton ball with a sterile cleaning agent onto his stitches. "No I still am. But not right now. I have to redress your wounds first." I reply.

It takes about 20 minutes to finish redressing his wounds before you both just sat there in silence. "What made you think it was a good idea to start hand to hand combat training right after getting discharged from the medical wing?" You ask him with curious annoyance.

He sighs before sitting there for a moment deciding his next words carefully. "I got tired of sitting around doing nothing. When there was training that needed to be done." He finally says.

"But you are not the only one who can train recruits so what's the real reason? And you can't say that they don't train them properly because there are almost 20 other people on base who could've done the training while you're on medical leave." You reply slightly upset.

"I had to much on my mind to not sit still and do nothing." He replies faster than you thought he would. "Why didn't you come to my office if you needed to talk or get your mind off things going on? I could've given you something to do that didn't involve you tearing your stitches."

You both sit there in comfortable silence before Price walks in looking not so happy. You both then find out the Soap had gone to Price after telling you that Ghost was training recruits over resting and to say the least Price was not the happiest man. Your day ends as the three of you walk to the mess hall to eat dinner after Price told Ghost off for ignoring the medical leave orders. Safe to say the next day you didn't find Ghost training anyone for the next couple of days because Price gave him a mountain of paperwork to have done before he can go back onto the field.

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This is my first ever fanfic. I've spent too long reading them and thought I'd try writing one myself. I am apart of way to many fandoms so if anyone has suggestions don't be afraid to send them my way. I will say though due to how my life is currently going i'll get to any and all suggestions as soon as I can. Thank you for getting this far and tell me what your favorite color is. Mine is aubergine.

[chlerc]

player ten ; charles leclerc

pairing charles leclerc x f. reader ( third person story )

in which Charles find himself in at the San Siro stadium but his eyes are on you. Donning a number 10 jersey, which left Charles to wonder if you’re that player’s girlfriend. It’s still worth a shot, right?

word count 925.

content strangers to lovers, okay more like Charles one sided thing he has for you, or so he thought. You might be that footballer’s girlfriend but hey was he ever going to pass up on a girl like you?

author’s note to thank the Monaco charity football match for captain charles ( future ballon d’or winner who fell head first! ) and that one picture he’s holding the barça jersey just got this idea, more like drabble, going.

The football pitch was millions of perfect grass strands as eager for the start of play as the fans who brought the stadium to light. Two armies of eleven walked onto the green to pitch war in the way civilised societies have come to.

The cheers warm the air as much as any sun ever could and rise around the San Siro stadium as bubbles in invisible champagne. Charles is right there by the VIP section of the stadium, in his customised AC Milan jersey he had just received from the team.

San Siro stadium was where he found himself with Joris, on a day without a packed schedule and stimulator drives. Football has always been his thing and he’s got a special knack for it, or he thinks so in that way.

His eyes are trained on following each Milan player as they played against Sampdoria yet the person on his left, an empty seat between them, had been pissing him off, which he embraced silently. Holy shit was she loud with all those jarring noises she had been making.

Charles cranes his neck a little, sneaking a glimpse at the lady who has been all but silent throughout the match. But to be fair, who would be quiet at a football match? Realising he had made the mistake of sneaking a glance, because hell was she so breathtakingly gorgeous. She’s so fucking beautiful it almost hurts to look at her.

Her face to his eyes was all the beauty a woman can possess, not for her features, yet for the light in her eyes and the gentle warmth of her soul. She has the rosiest cheeks and a pointy nose anyone could ever ask for. There was a warmth her brown hair brought to her features, a simple frame for that smile and eyes. The hue altered as the strands curled and moved, as free as autumn leaves playing in the dayshine with the evening wind picking up its pace.

One last glance, Charles had promised himself and swore to stick to that and so he did sneak another glance. Rookie mistake, she was donning the AC Milan jersey just like every other home supporter there, but shit she had a number 10 and the name Brahim printed on the back.

He recognises the number and name was actually a player on the pitch and not a customised jersey like his. VIP seats, a player’s jersey and cheering for him. Charles pieces his observations together, coming to a conclusion that she might actually be Brahim’s girlfriend.

Okay. It wasn’t like he was planning on hitting her up anyways, she was too noisy to be his type. But then again was he lying to himself, because hell who would actually pass up on a gorgeous woman who happened to love the same sport as him? On another note, she could just be a devoted fan, a girl can have her fantasies wearing the jerseys of the players they love.

It was the 63th minute where Brahim sent the ball to the back of the net, chants erupting throughout the stadium and a shout piercing through the left side of his ear. Fuck maybe she was his girlfriend afterall, there was no way was he making a move on her now.

He watches her every move as she looks for her phone in the beige bag sitting on her lap. With her phone in her hand, the screen lights up and he almost felt sanguine in this situation. Maybe he still had a chance after all, right? It definitely means something if he’s the person on her wallpaper, right?

Which is exactly why he slides over to the empty seat, settling down next to her. “Good game eh?” Charles finds himself striking a conversation with her, hoping she’d notice him. “Huh? Yeah yeah, really good game.” Her cheeks were the blush of roses, that peak of champagne pink. The colour infused cheeks dimpled with the blossoming smile

She wished she didn't blush so fast, that she had some ability to keep her emotions to herself. In an instant, her cheeks were rosy and Charles saw her feelings as if she wrote them in little notes and handed them out to him. “So…Brahim, your boyfriend? He’s really good with Milan, he’s adapted to the team well.”

“No no, not a boyfriend but yeah he’s really good.” He licked at his lips subconsciously, thanking every god for his fate of meeting the gorgeous and single lady right next to him. “Not a boyfriend eh? You’re in his jersey and all that.” She only lets out a giggle at his comment, Charles thought it was strange that she’s acting like she didn’t know him. “Loyal supporter is what I’d call it, been by him since Madrid.”

“My teammate’s a Madridista, you’d love him.” The ends of her lips lifted up into a smile so sweet, her eyes creasing into crescents. “I’d prefer the one who supports AS Monaco.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, mumbling meekly. “What’s that?” Charles questioned, not managing to catch what she had said but it wasn’t meant for him to hear anyways.

“Nothing important.” He nods curtly at her reply, sliding a piece of folded and crumbled paper he had tucked in his pockets earlier. She eyes him warily, taking the piece of paper in her grasp.

“I might have a knack for football but I’m better as a driver and we can take a picture to replace that lockscreen. Mia cara, call me yeah?”

[nxp-play]

Does a dog have a soul? [Indika Gameplay]

[coopessential]

Resident Evil 4 Remake - Out 24th of March 2023

[karmalatte97]

asmire (first story) - Part 1 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1140214132-asmire-first-story-part-1?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=kmilliekashay&wp_originator=Q%2FAJ8kSOrPc5wM2a2plGpfU2A3TT5goDc7w3xyoWLxEhhqTwqUXd9rVDzY2nI%2B5MNeViPRMP1IIiiprqgsSxPbSHJh4G09pa6vmhtrQET1Hf3u5EbxrSkWny%2FhR60hwX 

 This story begins with the line that first came to my head "She heard footsteps..." and the rest started to pour out of my brain. The main character is a young woman named Asmire who seems to be trapped by an evil man. All she longs for is to return to her place in her kingdom and to not be anyone's puppet or plaything. She holds someone dear in her heart and wishes to protect him. Will she escape? Is evil really evil? Will love come to those that yearn for it? 

 *this story is whatever comes to my mind and my writing is VERY new so please comment ideas and helpful tips. 

**this work will be updated and edited as time goes on

[kisuru]

So...third person view was not an option again becauuuussseee....???

Mod used: https://www.nexusmods.com/cyberpunk2077/mods/790

[jyvurentropyblog]

How To Choose a POV?

One of my writer friends asked me to write something about POV. She didn’t have a specific question, but basically asked if I might cover the different types of POVs and which ones work better in certain circumstances. 

Well, like I told her, this is going to be a VERY biased post. I am incredibly partial to third limited. I choose third limited almost every story I write. 

Let me start by explaining the different POVs. 

First Person: Uses the pronoun I 

“I went to the store.”

Second Person: Uses the pronoun You

“First you need to go to the store, get some eggs and vanilla extract.”

Second person is rare in fiction. It is most often used in non-fiction books that include instructions, or recipes, or other how-to guides. 

Every once in awhile, a writer will be really artsy-fartsy and use second person in fiction. 

Second person in fiction would look like this:

“You go to the store. You see a long line of people. You sigh and shuffle down the aisle.”

One notable example of second person in non-artsy-fartsy fiction would be the choose your own adventure books. 

Third Person: Uses third-person pronouns such as “She/He/They/Ze/etc

“Ze went to the store.”

But within third-person you have two options:

Third Limited or Third Omniscient

With third limited, readers are privy to the thoughts and feelings of only one character per chapter or scene. A story can still have multiple POVs, but within a scene or chapter, the POV remains only with one character. 

In my novel ‘Desire and Destruction’, I alternate POVs every other chapter. So it goes one chapter in Cole’s POV and one chapter in Ingrid’s POV. When we’re in a Cole chapter, we can see what Ingrid does, but not what she thinks or feels. We can not see into her head. And the reverse is true when we’re in an Ingrid chapter. 

With third omniscient, there is a god-like narrator who is looking into the minds of ALL the characters. This narrator is often somewhat detached and may look down on certain characters and praise other characters. Basically, it isn’t that deep-third that we get with third-limited. The narrator often has their own personality and way of viewing the characters. Within any scene, the narrator can relate the thoughts, feelings, or backstory of any character. 

I do not recommend third omniscient. As I covered in my last post, very few people have the skill to know when to use it AND how to pull it off effectively. Most stories are not enhanced by third omniscient. I’m not saying you should never use it, but don’t jump in and give it a whirl just because a lot of the old classics use this style. 

Remember the time period that was hard AF for third-limited also experimented with narrative style to the point that Frankenstein is told via letters by someone who has nothing to do with the story and just happened to meet Dr. Frankenstein out in the wilderness. It’s a summary of a summary. Wuthering Heights is told exclusively in conversations between the housekeeper and a tenant, neither of whom are main characters. Look.....the classics of the Romantic and Victorian era were....on some real other shit. Writing like the classics isn’t always a solid plan. 

So that’s my extreme cautioning against third omniscient. I just don’t think it adds anything to most stories and is far too likely to jar or confuse readers and come across as head-hopping. 

But third-limited on the other hand....

I ADORE third-limited. Let me explain why I like it. 

You get all the perks of first person AND all the perks of third-person. You can be somewhat detached, but you still get a front row seat to the thoughts and feelings of one character at a time. When you really pull off a nice deep-third, you’re fully immersed in the character’s inner world, but there’s still a bit of a buffer. You still aren’t writing AS the character. 

Here is a section of my book ‘Combustion’ in third-limited where I was going for deep-third. 

~The flame birthed itself at the end of the match. It danced, red and orange, against the backdrop of the still night. Rachel opened her mouth as wide as she could, until the corners of her lips were stretched as far as they would go. She made sure that her mouth was a wide, round circle. Just like the man on fire. Probably just like Mary Reeser had done. She was going to spontaneously combust. She would do it now.

And she could stop waiting for it to happen. She was never going to have to be afraid of it happening again. It was all about to be over. Rachel watched the flame slide down lower, burning away at the wood of the match. It was going to reach her hand soon, so she had to do this fast. Spontaneous Human Combustion started inside the body.

Rachel understood why the man on fire had his mouth wide open.

There wasn't any time left.

Rachel took the match and placed it into her open mouth.~

It’s in third-person, but it’s still written in a way where we can feel her fear, her confusion, her dissociation. We can see her reasoning. Of course, her reasoning is flawed. She should not be trying to make herself spontaneously combust JUST so that she can stop being afraid of it happening. 

So how do you know if you should choose third-limited or first? (because third omniscient and second person should rarely be used). Well, I’m biased, and I believe third-limited works well for most stories. 

That being said, I have chosen first person for two of my stories. One is my now shelved manuscript ‘Femcel’ which I will eventually be rewriting and it will be retitled ‘Pick Me.’ The other is my collab story with Emily Hurricane ‘When The Darkness Takes Us.’

For ‘When The Darkness Takes Us’ I had a very specific reason for choosing first person. This character is a self-insert. It’s a fictionalized account of something very difficult I went through semi-recently. 

So I suppose I’d say, when it’s a really emotional story with strong voice, first person may be a better choice. When it’s a very personal story, first person may be a better choice. When you’re writing a character who rants and raves and switches gears mid-thought-stream so quickly that a third-person narrator wouldn’t do it justice-it would only slow the stream-of-consiousness down. 

I also chose first person for my book ‘Femcel’ which is not currently online, because I need to make some changes to it. 

Here is an excerpt from ‘Femcel.’ 

~If every single day was a day off from work with Sailor Moon dvds and an entire pickle pizza all to myself, well, then I think life would be a-okay. Today has been great. I cleaned my room and then I pulled out my trusty Sailor Moon box set. Auntie and Mom-mom are both at work, so nobody to bug me about what I'm eating. I ordered a large pizza and I got the owner on the phone when the new guy didn't understand that they can put pickles on a pizza. It isn't on the menu, but they do it for me all the time.

I told him, "You charge me for a pepperoni pizza and tell the guy cooking it to put on pickles. Ask Jim. He always does it." But the guy still thought I was full of it.

Eventually they sorted it out though. And yeah, I know it's bad to eat an entire large pizza myself. Don't go thinking I'm a total pig. I only eat like this when I watch anime.

Usually I don't eat enough. Mom-mom says I'm too thin and she isn't wrong. If I lay on my stomach too long at night, my ribs start to hurt. I'm the only woman in my family with a stick body. Everybody else has nice curves. I barely have boobs and my butt is flat. I tried doing squats for awhile, but when nothing much happened, I figured it was probably all nonsense. You know? A placebo.

It's only four in the afternoon, but already it's getting dark. I hate winter. Especially once Christmas is over. I feel so upset and anxious every day in that long dead span of winter, January through March, when there's nothing to look forward to and it feels like the world just dead ass stopped. Sludge in every parking lot. Everything is cold and wet. Kek. And it's the middle of January. Top kek. (I mean that sarcastically. Obviously).~

I chose first for Ana’s story, because I imagined her as this very voicey character with this sweet and sarcastic personality. She’s also incredibly immature (which does make sense since she’s in her very early 20s) and I felt that youth and naiveté would across more strongly in first person. 

So....what’s the hard and fast rule for deciding between third-limited and first?

I....uh.... 

 I wish I could tell you lol

Like my last post about balancing dialogue with other storytelling elements, I have to say, I just play it by ear. 

I will say, I think every writer should figure out early on which POV they prefer to write in. Try them all out. Try writing the same scenes in first and third and see which one you like better. 

I did this while I was getting my B.A in Creative Writing and after several rounds of playing with third-limited and first, I discovered I’m incredibly partial to third-limited. 

That doesn’t mean there isn’t any room for first. Like I said, I realized first was the better choice for two of my WIPs. But knowing that third-limited is my default style, I always have a starting point. I start most stories in third-limited and it’s only when third-limited starts to feel....well...limiting that I give first a whirl. 

In the end, it’s about what YOU as the writer are most comfortable with. Some people say it depends on the story you want to tell, and I agree to an extent, but at the same time, if you hate writing in first person and you try to force it, the story may suffer for it. For years, I wrote exclusively in third-limited before I was comfortable enough to test out first person. 

Third-limited and first both accomplish different things. First person has more voice and immediacy, while third-person allows a writer to be more poetic and detached. 

Which POV do you like best? When you experiment with both POVs, which allows your story to come to life more?

There’s no real rule of thumb. 

Like everything with writing, it’s all a matter of intuition; following your gut and looking at every story as a unique experience. 

I know that was wishy-washy, but it’s the best I can do while still being honest!

There just aren’t any true absolutes with writing. 

Good luck fellow writers <3

[httdoggo]

𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬

Pairing: Yan!Gladiator X Reader

Status: UNEDITED

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He was powerful, very skilled and has win every combat he was on, he makes great money to his master and his house because of that he was very favoured by his master.

Because of his reputation many people favoured him and wanted him to themselves just for the sole purpose of making money. Even if he could have all the things he wanted (for a slave) he was not satisfied, sure it was very great to have his glory, all the wine, the woman and being the favourite and most liked but it feel like he was missing something.

Nobody could have his heart, literally or romantically, at least that's what he thought, he would know that's a lie because he just give his up for a young lady.

Chapter 1