#this is technically a wip so we’ll see where it goes from here
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DREAM GIRL EVIL
#art#the locked tomb#tlt#ianthe tridentadius#ianthe#the third house#ianthe naberius#this is technically a wip so we’ll see where it goes from here#wip#idk why she was the first one I drew I’ve been wanting to draw harrow for so long
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Werewolf (WIP) Wednesday
I’m on my lunch break right now and I figured I would share a little bit of the original thing I’ve been working on <3 it’s been a long time since I last wrote anything original, so we’ll see how this goes, lol.
(TW for emetophobia)
Lauren Huntley wakes the same way she does about once a month, which is to say she wakes sore, with her head at an angle that sends pain shooting up the back of her skull, and covered in something that is sticky. Or was sticky, once. It’s dry now and tight across the exposed stretches of her skin, like a second epidermal layer.
All of these things are not unusual. They are not unusual on their own, anyway. Desperate, Lauren can handle them, like tasks to address and cross off on a list one at a time. All at once is an entirely different story. She pries her eyes open and then shuts them closed again when her ailments bombard her, as if doing so will make them go away, like they had before she first woke.
It doesn’t work like that, her brain says idly. Technically, it was all still there before you opened your eyes. You just weren’t away for that.
To which Lauren tells the lump of fat in her skull, Thanks for that.
It occurs to her a second later that she actually has a brain to have stray thoughts again in the first place. Maybe she shouldn’t be so hard on her wandering mind, after all. Having actual, coherent musings is a luxury she’s learned to appreciate after all these years. Most people wouldn’t consider it to be a luxury at all, and rather a normal part of everyday life, and being—you know, human—but then again, that’s most people. Lauren stopped being a part of the majority a king time ago. For better or worse. And usually it’s for the worst.
As nice as lying in place for the rest of forever sounds, she knows she has to get up and start moving at some point. Might as well get it over with.
Light overhead blinds her when she opens her eyes a second time. She has to blink it away before they can adjust, but she already knows what it is. The source can only come from one thing. Besides, the rest of her senses already have enough information gathered to put together a general picture of where she is. More or less.
The sunlight is warm and early-morning yellow, pale like the shade of a child’s bedroom wall. (Lauren’s was never that color, but she had a friend whose room was, and it reminds her of fresh days and cereal bowls after late-night sleepovers.) She is flat on her back and facing the sky, and it would be almost pleasant if it weren’t for the mud under her. And all the other things that are already bothering her. The bubbling of a river at her side is a nice touch, though. She’ll have to thank the other her for choosing such a nice place to black out after… all of it. Even if she ended up deciding to use a rock as a makeshift pillow.
As wakefulness returns to her, she finds she’s grateful for the moving water more for than just the soothing background noise it provides.
Lauren fights against the aching in her bones so that she can haul herself upright and into a sitting position. There is a—a taste in her mouth. She recognizes it in a sort of twofold way. There is the other her, the one who was responsible for it. That version revels in the gamy lingering on her tongue and the tang of iron. But unfortunately, that one is not at the forefront at the moment, or in charge of all the controls. If she was, Lauren wouldn’t be here, in this physical form, gagging at the persistent flavor of raw, massacred—is that elk?—still in her mouth. And because it’s this version of her, she lurches to her knees so she can make for the undergrowth by the riverside, where she promptly empties the entire contents of her stomach onto the forest floor.
Elk. It’s always elk. Lauren hates elk.
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Incorrect Quotes Tag
Rules: use this quote generator & list as many quotes as you like using characters from your WIPs, then tag as many people as quotes you listed.
Thanks @vampywriter for the tag!
I then tag: whoever wants to do it and wasn't tag by someone, you can say i tagged you! (moots please do it, i don't want to bother you, but i'm looking at you) (no i don't really tag people because i have more than forty quotes and won't tag that many people)
it's going to be very long because i love incorrect quotes and i have too much time on my hands (and wip on many things)
WIP from fandoms:
(Star Trek)
Sarek: Sybok...
Sybok: I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are disappointed. Alas, I must further disappoint you by affirming how little I give a fuck.
Spock: If we lose, you’re out of the will.
Sybok: I was in the will?
Sarek: You deserve a reward for putting up with me.
Amanda: You are my reward.
meanwhile
Jim: You deserve a reward for putting up with me.
Spock: True, you can be really difficult at times.
Sybok: Reverse tooth fairy where you leave money under your pillow and the tooth fairy comes and leaves you a bunch of teeth.
Spock: Why?
Sybok, shaking a bag of teeth: Just because.
Sarek: Yes, I'm adopting Michael and you cowards can't tell me no!
Amanda: What is love?
Spock: An emotional minefield.
Sarek: A neurochemical reaction.
Sybok: Baby don't hurt me.
Spock: I love you.
Jim, not paying attention: What was that?
Spock: I said I’m selling you to the zOo-
Bones: Let's just agree to both say we're sorry on the count of three.
Bones: One... two... three.
Spock: ...
Bones: ...
Bones: See, now I'm just disappointed in both of us.
Jim: *seductively takes off glasses*
Jim: Wow...
Spock: *blushes* Haha... what?
Jim: You're really fucking blurry.
Pike: So… what would you do if you were in bed with me?
Una: Depends. Is your bed comfortable?
Pike: Yes.
Una: I'd sleep.
Una: My hands are cold.
Pike: Here, let me hold them.
Una: My lips are cold too.
Pike: covers Una's mouth with their hand
Una: When I said bring me something back from the beach I meant like a conch shell!
Pike: Struggling to hold a seagull Fucking say that next time!
Pike: Can I ask a dumb question?
Una: Better than anyone I know.
Pike: Where are you going?
Una: To get MYSELF a gift cause somebody didn't get me one!
Pike: I told you I did! Its coming here on Friday!
Spock, knowing full well that Pike got Una an engagement ring: *eating popcorn*
(AOT)
Annie: Have I ever told you that you cook well?
Armin: Awww, no, you haven't!
Annie: So why do you keep cooking?
Armin: Why are you late?
Annie: A technical error occurred, causing an unexpectedly long bout of unconsciousness.
Armin: Overslept?
Annie: Overslept.
Reiner: *double checking supplies in the boat* Compass. CB radio. Sunscreen.
Bertolt: Hot dog costumes!
Reiner: I’m sorry, what?
Bertolt: You know, in case we get lost at sea, and one of us, probably Annie, goes mad with hunger, we’ll put these on. Annie hates hot dogs, so they probably won’t eat us.
Reiner: Are you saying that Annie would rather eat us than hot dogs?
Annie: I do hate hot dogs.
Annie: Okay, can we all stop saying stupid shit for a moment, please?!
Bertolt: Alright.
Reiner: Hey, I-
Annie: SHUT UP!
Reiner: I HAVEN'T EVEN FINISHED MY SENTENCE!!
Bertolt: It was bound to be stupid.
Armin: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-
Annie: I wrote you a poem.
Armin, already crying: You did?
Annie: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you…
Armin: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, and no take backs, honey.
*Something crashes*
Reiner: Shoot-
Bertolt: *running into the room in a panic* WHAT FELL?!
Annie: *walking by the room calmly* What died?
Bertolt, Entering Reiner's room: Annie did it again.
Reiner: Peace disturbance?
Bertolt: What no-
Reiner: Arson..?
Bertolt: NO, JESUS CHRIST, HOW MANY-
Reiner: uh....Attempted murder?
Bertolt: NO, THEY ATE ALL THE FOOD IN THE FRIDGE, BUT WHAT THE FU-
Eren: Onion rings are vegetable donuts.
Mikasa, used to Eren being dumb: Sure...
Eren: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed.
Mikasa: Okay?
Eren: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake.
Mikasa:
Eren: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio-
Mikasa: Jesus, that one is a little-
Armin, interested: No, no, Eren, keep going.
Armin: What are you writing?
Eren: The government wants to know what kind of weapons we have in the house. I'm letting them know it's private information.
Mikasa, looking over Eren's shoulder: This just says 'fuck around and find out' in calligraphy.
Armin: Guys where did Eren go?
Mikasa: They got arrested.
Armin: How the hell-
Eren: *bursts in through the window* The cops are after me, I thought it would be fun to steal crackers and throw them at people.
WIP from original content:
Robin: What’s the announcement, Hiroaki?
Hiroaki: It’s a lecture. Nayeli’s gonna tell us everything they know about sex.
Noam: It should be an enjoyable 60 seconds.
Noam: Oh god, they texted you ‘hi.’’ punctuation only means one thing, Nayeli. They're mad at you.
Nayeli: No, it's Hiroaki. They're just being gramatically correct!
*meanwhile*
Hiroaki: And then I used a period so they'd know that I'm mad at them.
Robin: A period doesn't say 'I'm mad', it says 'you're dead to me'.
Hiroaki: I stand by my choice.
Hiroaki: Wake me up-
Noam: Before you go go
Robin: When September ends
Nayeli: WAKE ME UP INSIDE
Noam: Where are your parents?
Robin: What are parents?
Noam: That’s just about the saddest thing I've ever heard.
Noam: I need a long word.
Nayeli: T-rex but the long one.
Noam: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB FUCK!
Nayeli: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!
*Noam and Nayeli are in a car teetering on the edge of a cliff*
Noam: oh my god, Nayeli, backwards!
Nayeli: Really, Noam? I thought I might go forwards into the river, I thought that would be a fun thing to do.
(they're siblings)
Charlene: I WOULD DESTROY THE WORLD FOR YOU!
Archibald: Okay, can you do the dishes?
Charlene: No!
Archibald, near tears: Please, Charlene, I don’t speak meme! I don't know what a 'yeet' is!
Zachary: Are you a cuddler?
Esfir: I'm a machine of death and destruction.
Zachary:
Esfir: ...Yeah, I'm a cuddler.
Esfir: It's called cauliflower, not ghost broccoli.
Zachary, eyes wide: I know what I saw.
Zachary: Here’s the cold medicine you asked for.
Zachary: *dumps 3 shopping bags of wine on the table*
Esfir: ...Thanks.
Noam: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at fascists" and I think that's very sexy of us.
Hiroaki: If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both.
Hiroaki: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.
Noam: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.
Hiroaki: But you’re always acting stupid?
Noam: ...
Noam: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.
Noam, talking to Nayeli: Wait, what's going on? Are we all talking about how hot Hiroaki is? Because Hiroaki is a straight up sexual fox riding a red-hot nuclear bombshell right toward the yowza plaza in the heart of Babe City, Assachusetts, U S A. The last A just stands for more ass.
Hiroaki: I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. Someone asked me what the Spanish word for "tortilla" was once, and now I dream of kissing them under the moonlight.
Noam: What kind of animal is the Pink Panther?
Hiroaki, already taking off their clothes: God, Noam, you’re so fucking stupid.
Robin: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.
Nayeli: You’re too young to have enemies.
Robin: You don’t even know.
Nayeli: This is horrible! This is the most humiliating thing to ever happen to me!
Noam: Oh-? Even more humiliating than-
Nayeli: We are not doing this!
Robin, holding a scooter: Nayeli! Can I go outside and play with this?
Nayeli: Sure, whatever. I'm not your parent, okay?
Robin, running outside: Thanks Nayeli!
Nayeli, running out after them and screaming: NOT ON THE STREET! STAY AWAY!
Nayeli: I am a responsible adult!
Robin: *raises brow*
Nayeli: I am an adult.
Hiroaki: So... what’s goin’ on?
Noam: You want the long version or the short version?
Hiroaki, hesitantly: The short one, I guess?
Noam: Shit’s fucked.
Hiroaki: Oh. Well, yeah, that’s definitely not an optimal situation.
#tag game#incorrect quotes#star trek#aot#original content#my ocs#i have to say that robin is mute and fourteen years old but she has the sass of a fifty years old#one day i'll talk more about my ocs#if that interest people#windy rambling#littlehaize#writeblr#writeblr tags
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Summary: In a world where the different Jedi sects co-exist, Ahsoka Tano and her Master Obi-Wan Kenobi are waiting for a stranger in the desert.
AN: I have started a new WIP.
Ahsoka had learned quite a lot since she had become her Master’s Padawan. Mostly she had been taught how to fight, take down opponents twice her size, how to defend and protect others by building walls higher than anyone could climb, and not get lost in the screaming, tear-stained horror of war. Perhaps it was not the padawanhood that Ahsoka had imagined, but she wouldn’t trade Obi-Wan for any other Master. He was patient, kind, and never lost his temper with her, even when Ahsoka made a foolish mistake, and the day had been longer than a week.
Her Master always kept busy, running around organizing one thing or another. The evidence of his exhaustion was visible in the bags under his eyes he didn’t quite manage to hide behind meditations anymore. He was relentlessly trying to find a way to end this war earlier, to save more people, to lessen the burden on each and every person he loved. Ahsoka would be glad if they could cease fighting within just a few short months, but even she knew that the chance of peace was dwindling with every life lost on either side.
And they certainly weren’t on Tatooine to talk about peace. At most, they were hoping to negotiate non-involvement from the Hutts – at least superficially, of course the Hutts would continue with their underground dealings, even the GAR relied on it – and use of their hyperspace lanes.
“General, if you don’t mind me asking, who are we waiting for?”
Ahsoka was glad that Cody had spoken up. She wasn’t sure if she would have been able to keep her silence much longer. She hadn’t wanted to pester Obi-Wan with questions, but she was curious why they had landed in the middle of the Force-forsaken desert in the middle of the night and not anywhere near Jabba’s palace.
“We are waiting for an informant,” Obi-Wan said. “An old friend, if you will.”
Ahsoka opened her mouth to ask what kind of friend Obi-Wan had on Tatooine of all places when she saw a figure approaching on a speeder. Immediately, everyone looked up. When a few of the more blaster-inclined clones of their small squadron reached for their weapons, Obi-Wan gave them the hand sign to lay low. They exchanged curious looks but dropped the guns, trusting him completely. Ahsoka hoped that she could inspire such trust in her someday.
The person parked their speeder just outside of their camp. From what Ahsoka could see, they were dressed entirely in dark robes, cut not dissimilar to those of a Coruscanti Jedi, while their face was covered by a dark scarf. Various trinkets hung from their belts and arms, as well as twin blasters, making the barest of noises when they approached the camp. Golden jewelry glinted in the light of their fire, feathers, pouches, bells, and something that could be bones chimed sweetly with the wind. The figure stretched, then they took notice of Obi-Wan. Quicker than Ahsoka could have stopped them, they had crossed the remaining distance and thrown themselves at Obi-Wan.
“Obi-Wan!”
Her Master just barely managed to keep his balance as he accepted the hug of the other person. They embraced tightly, an eternity passing in which dark leather-gloved fingers dug into her Master’s back, then let go of each other. The figure removed the dark scarf from around their head, let it fall around their neck, revealing tanned skin, a human face, and dark blonde hair that was framed by little golden feathers tugged behind his ears.
The person smiled openly, rolled forward on their toes and only then spoke. “It’s been a while.”
Their voice was surprisingly soft, melodic almost.
“That it has,” Obi-Wan agreed, smiling just as welcoming, the Force lighting up in reciprocal. “It has been too long since we last saw each other, Anakin. Thank you for meeting us here, even if the circumstances are not ideal.”
The newly named Anakin just shrugged. “I was in the area and really, making an extra stop at Tatooine for you is no trouble.”
The two looked ready to forget about just everyone else still standing around the campfire, watching them, and so Ahsoka decided to do her duty and coughed. “Master, would you be so kind as to introduce us?”
“Ah, yes, of course. Apologies, Ahsoka.”
“Ahsoka,” Anakin mumbled, then snapped their fingers, alight with recognition as they faced Obi-Wan. “Your Padawan, correct?”
Obi-Wan nodded and Anakin grinned, pointing at Cody next. “And then that must be Cody. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Anakin Skywalker, he/him.”
He bowed formally with both his feet firm on the ground, one hand clasped over his heart, the other on his back. Delighted, Ahsoka copied the gesture. It had been ages since she’d been at the temple and someone had greeted her with all the respect Jedi usually gave each other.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Ahsoka returned his greeting, still trying to figure out who this Anakin was that her Master had decided to talk to him about her.
“Anakin here is a Teepo Paladin—”
“Sort of,” Anakin interrupted Obi-Wan, tilting his hand and shaking it in a so-and-so matter. “I haven’t been back to our temple in years, so I’m still not technically a Paladin, but still a Knight on their Search…”
He stopped talking when he realized that nobody had any idea of what he was talking about. Ahsoka didn’t know much about the Teepo Paladins. They were a relatively small group, and unlike the Altisian or Corellian Jedi, they hadn’t joined the Republic Army and stayed mostly on their own, following the Force. Ahsoka had learned about them, and all the other groups the ordinary sentient threw under the header Jedi, in her classes, but she’d never actually met a Teepo Jedi.
“Doesn’t matter,” Anakin said, shaking his head. “How can I help you?”
“We need to negotiate with Jabba,” Obi-Wan said, not wasting a single minute. “Do you think you can tell us something that would be useful?”
“Uh,” Anakin put his head in his hands. “Yeah, he’s a bastard and gates my guts. If he sees me around you guys, it’s definitely not going to be pleasant.”
“What did you do to him?” Ahsoka asked, curiosity taking ahold of her tongue before she could stop herself.
Anakin didn’t seem to mind the interruption; he only eagerly continued his narration. “Decided to steal his latest shipment of slaves and then some. With Coruscant, Corellia, and the Altisian bores—”
“Anakin.” Her Master’s voice rang out sharp, reminding Ahsoka of the times he scolded her.
Anakin rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, the Altisian Jedi all running the Republic army, the rest, who hasn’t sworn allegiance to a planet or a system, is just doing damage control all around. I’ve wrecked a couple dozen pirate ships already, or so it feels, at least. But yeah, long story short, I won’t be able to help with Jabba, but I can provide backup if it goes sideways?”
Obi-Wan sighed, but even so, he still felt happy and comfortable to Ahsoka’s senses as he hadn’t in weeks. “We’ll take what we can get. I’ll call the Council. Do you want to stay with us for the night?”
Anakin gave him a thumbs up. “Already told my mother I was staying. And I brought my own food, so you don’t have to spare your rations. I think I might even have some sweets.” He glanced at Ahsoka and winked conspiringly, making her giggle.
Obi-Wan’s expression softened. “Alright, alright, I see, you’re set for life. Get comfortable then.”
He turned around to walk a little away from the camp, but from the way his shoulders twitched, Ahsoka assumed that he definitely heard Anakin’s shouted: “Not without you!”
As her Master had ordered, everyone who wasn’t on watch gathered around the campfire and broke out the rations. Anakin did, indeed, share his candy with her and handed out more of the local food to the clones.
“My mother packed it,” he said when he shared more of the salt-covered blackberries. “It would be a waste not to share it.”
Sitting around the fire with them, he fit right in despite not looking much like a warrior. If anything, his attire, decorated with trinkets that had to stem from various planets, reminded Ahsoka of a traveler. But if she were to believe his stories, he must be quite the fighter. Ahsoka knew that more and more pirates were growing powerful and influential without Coruscant’s oversight, but she hadn’t known that the other sects had stepped up to deal with it. She wondered if the Council knew. Though, Obi-Wan hadn’t seemed surprised by it, so they were probably aware.
“So, do you not carry a lightsaber?” Ticker, one of the younger clones, asked. “I only see your blasters. I didn’t know Jedi carried those.”
“The Coruscant sect doesn’t,” Anakin agreed and then turned to Ahsoka. “Though, I think you’re still all taught how to? I know Obi-Wan’s wickedly good with a sniper rifle.”
“Of course,” Ahsoka replied quickly. She got her blaster sessions with the best marksmen of the 212th, who all ensured she should be fine if she ever lost her lightsaber.
Not that Ahsoka was planning on it.
“Right, my Order carries blasters additionally to our lightsabers.” He moved his robes and revealed his lightsaber. “I just keep it a little more hidden away. It makes it easier to work sometimes if people don’t see from a mile away that you’re a Jedi.”
Ahsoka found herself agreeing with him. It made sense and she knew that there had been at least five missions that would have been easier if their target hadn’t immediately spotted that she was a lightsaber. She knew that her Order carried the blades openly purposefully so that they could be easily identified, they had to be as they were an officially recognized member of the Republic, but Quinlan and Aayla didn’t. Most Covenant Jedi actually didn’t, ensuring they could do their work in the shadows. Occasionally, Ahsoka wondered whether she was supposed to know so much about how they operated, or if that was just a benefit of Obi-Wan being close friends with Quinlan.
“And where’s the difference between your… everything and the General’s?”
“Don’t ask me for details,” Anakin said. “Haven’t had one of those discussions in a while, but our differences aren’t that huge. Most of the differences stem from the Republic backing of the Coruscant sect, I think. The members of my Order just also carry blasters and fight entirely submerged in the Force. We also don’t really do missions, which sucks for budgeting because we still have to get funding, and just go wherever the Force takes us. We don’t really have the numbers to provoke the big changes, that’s more up Coruscant’s or Corellia’s alley. We try to help the small people on the ground and hope the big guys make sure we can leave one planet in safe hands and travel to the next.”
That sounded familiar to Ahsoka. The Coruscant sect was the largest, so they had the most influence, even if too many Senators only played pretend at listening to their suggestions. At least the Chancellor trusted them.
“What do you mean, fight submerged in the Force?” A different clone, Storytime, ever the curious, spoke up. “Is that different from the General and the Commander?”
“Oh! Right.” Anakin laughed. “So basically, we cover our eyes and ears during a fight?”
“You do what?” Cody’s alarmed tone made Ahsoka only snort. She still remembered his attempt at getting Obi-Wan to wear a little more armor by pointing at the Revanchist folks that had accompanied them on one mission.
It had been an absolute train-wreck, but they had managed to succeed. Somehow.
Anakin only grinned in reply and reached for the golden feathers behind his ears. He took them off, revealing that they were not, in fact, feathers, but electronic devices with small buttons.
“I tap these, and they block out any and all noise and cover my eyes. Then I trust the Force to keep me safe and tell me where I need to pay attention.”
“That sounds… risky.” If Ahsoka didn’t know better, she’d say that Cody was having a heart attack. His assessment of that fighting style had been exceedingly polite given that he looked as if he wanted to cuss it out.
Anakin shrugged as if it were no big deal to him and, having grown up in such a way, it probably wasn’t. “It wasn’t that difficult to get used to. I grew up here on Tatooine. The sand and the heat steal away plenty of your senses already.”
“You weren’t raised in your temple then?”
Anakin shook his head. “No, not really. We do have a temple, a rather small one, not even a tenth of Coruscant’s size. We raise children there, but most of the time, everyone is just on their Search.”
He emphasized the last word so that Ahsoka concluded it must be a special ritual that wasn’t like their Search for younglings.
“My Master was on his Search when he found me and since the Force didn’t call him home, he continued to travel with me.”
That sounded like a strange childhood to have. Ahsoka hadn’t known anything of the galaxy but the temple walls and Ilum until Obi-Wan had accepted her as his Padawan. Since then, she had seen plenty of other planets, even if she hadn’t had too much time to appreciate their beauty. She wondered how Anakin had gotten his education. Ahsoka had attended many classes of dozens of teachers in the temple. His childhood didn’t appear to resemble hers a lot, but she could easily picture a small human boy trailing after another masked Jedi, chatting with just the same cheer he was talking now.
“Sounds fascinating,” Storytime breathed.
“Once the war is over, feel free to come to visit us. I know of at least one other Paladin who has attached himself to a Clone squadron and is planning to take them home for a visit at least once.”
“That would be very kind,” Storytime replied.
“No problem.”
Anakin then suddenly turned his head, his motion so rash that the clones instinctually reached for their blasters. Thankfully, they recognized Obi-Wan quickly enough that nobody got hurt accidentally.
Obi-Wan only blinked at them and then sat down next to Anakin. “What a lovely greeting.”
Some of the clones sheepishly packed their blasters away while others just shot back a look that was as dry as Obi-Wan’s words. They were on Tatooine; it made sense to be even more on guard than usual.
“And? What did your Council say?” Anakin asked, handing Obi-Wan a plate with food.
“Coruscant is not taking any responsibility for any outside agents who might get involved in this mission,” Obi-Wan replied, the flow of his words so steady that he had to be reciting the words of another.
“That’s council speak for ‘let him do whatever he wants’, right?”
Obi-Wan paused with his meal to confirm his question. “Yes, Anakin, that means you can do whatever you want. But if you get invited by the Republic for a hearing, we’re not backing you up either.”
“Yes, yes, I had expected nothing else from you sticker-to-the-rules Coruscanti.”
“Says the head-in-the-clouds Teepo,” Obi-Wan retorted in the same manner, matching Anakin’s intonation, quoting old stereotypes that used to be hurled as insults but have since only become something almost akin to terms of endearments.
“So, when are we going to leave?” Ahsoka asked. She wanted to know if she should go to bed early or prepare herself for a long night.
“Tomorrow before the sun rises,” Obi-Wan said, glancing at Anakin for confirmation.
“Yes, best to leave early on Tatooine. I’d also suggest trying to get some sleep. Negotiations will be exhausting.”
Obi-Wan hummed in agreement. “You know what that means, Ahsoka.”
“Yes, yes.” Ahsoka stood up. “Bedtime for me. I’m not a little youngling anymore, Master. I know when to get my sleep.”
She bid them goodnight and headed back towards the ship, ready to sleep curled up in the small med-station of their transport that was as close to a proper bed as she could get. She didn’t know how much longer her Master and his friend stayed up, but both looked well-rested when she got up the next day. Her Master, perhaps, even a little less exhausted than usual.
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Fic Writer Interview
thanks @allthebooksandcrannies for tagging me!!
How many works do you have on AO3: 160!! yes i have a problem
Total AO3 word count: 844,446 oh god
How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?: 5 i think? dc comics, young justice, voltron, the teen titans cartoon once, and that one tiny fic i did for the lunar chronicles which is the only time i ever strayed from my fic-writing comfort zone lmao
Top 5 Fics (by number of kudos): the #1 fic is "obedience" with 3395 kudos, #2 is "don't touch me," #3 is "no pain, all gain," #4 is "hi bi, i'm dad," and #5 is "the same mistake twice" with 1353 kudos
Do I respond to comments, why or why not: i tried to respond to all of my comments at one point, but it was a lot of work to keep up and eventually i just gave up after a month of that. nowadays i try to respond to the longer comments that people put actual effort into or if they have a question or something
Do I write crossovers (and if so, what is the craziest?): nope nope nope. it's just not my thing (unless you count the ones where i give characters plots or traits from other forms of media like my "tim sees ghosts" au but that's about as crossover-y as it gets) (also julie and i come up with crossover ideas all the time but for my real, public writing, it's a hard no)
Have I ever received hate on a fic?: oh gosh so so SO many times. it's never fun
Do you write smut?: nah, it's not my thing. i've thought about it sure, just to branch out my writing style and to see if i'd be any good at it, but it doesn't match my audience so it's a no for now
Have you ever had i fic stolen: i hope not? i actually don't know what that means but it doesn't sound fun
Have you ever had a fic translated: yep! a couple have been translated into different languages and a few awesome people have done podfics for my stuff :)
Have you ever co-written a fic before: sort of? sometimes julie or i will write stuff together, but it's usually in a way where one of us will write a fic based on headcanons we've come up with together and then we'll credit the other when it's posted. there have been a few times when we've written actual fics together in the same document and everything, but i tend to step back and let julie do most of the work because i'm inherently bad at working with others and my instinct when partnered with other people is to shut down and let them take over everything 🤷♀️
What’s your all-time favorite ship: i don't know actually?? i'm sure i have one, but as far as writing goes, i tend to mostly lean on ships like jayroy, timsteph, spitfire, and birdflash occasionally. there are plenty of other ships that i care about way more than those four, but most of them i just haven't written for yet so yeah. for someone who's obsessed with love and romance, i'm pretty lukewarm on most ships
What's a WIP that you want to finish but probably never will: oh gosh. oh man. foster dad bruce au, my beloved. i love that fic with all my heart but like icarus, i forgot my sunglasses and rocketed straight into the ball of burning gas. this fic gives the phrase "bit off more than you can chew" a physical form. the fourth chapter has been sitting in its document half-written for months now and i know i vowed to never ever ever ever EVER post a fic and never finish it because i always hate when people quit on fics i like,,,,, there's a 50% chance that i will get back to that fic. it's just too long. i've only finished 3 out of 7 chapters and already it's at almost 59,000 words, i'm TIRED okay i'm sorry guys maybe one day i'll reclaim my braincells and finish that fucking thing
What are your writing strengths: i'm good with the mechanics and stuff, like the way my sentences are arranged and thought-out, but this is also my biggest weakness, which sucks. it's like in monsters university when mike spends so much time studying the technical aspect of scaring but he can't do it naturally like the other monsters can? yeah. i'm so focused on the mechanics of my writing that it's hard for me to let loose and actually let myself think and go loose with it. the only times i can really WRITE without one hand tied behind my back is when i'm overly tired or caffeinated. i have a feeling i'll be one of those writers who can't write anything of value without a bottle of wine lmao
What are your writing weaknesses: see above
What’s your thoughts on dialogue being written in other languages in fics: i don't know what this means?? is this asking whether i approve of dialogue being written in other languages?? or is it asking how i want it formatted?? what does this mean?? sometimes a story requires dialogue in another language, idk what to tell you man
First fandom you wrote for: oh god. don't make me think about my fanfiction.net days. i'm not strong enough (it was batfamily btw because what else do i write)
What’s your favorite fanfic you’ve written: my young justice gsa au <3 my pride and joy <3 that au was when i truly peaked as a human and it's only downhill from here <3
tagging uhhhhhh @damthosefandoms @haljordangreenjedi @catboykonel and @magebirdi because i have very few friends
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Ginger Snap, Chapter 2
A/N I am breaking probably the only rule I gave myself when I started writing fanfic, which was Don’t Ever Post a WIP. But lord knows I’m not immune to peer pressure and the narcotic that is reader feedback, so here it is, the second chapter of what is now an open-ended modern AU story about Jamie the Chef and Claire the Kitchen Disaster. Still a first person Claire POV, so I apologize in advance for any stray pronouns.
For the first chapter, I recommend reading it on Ao3, since I’ve made some minor edits since I first posted it on Tumblr. See above re. not planning on posting a WIP.
Oh, and funny story. When I decided to check the location of the real Ginger Snap catering company in Edinburgh, it was squished between “FrazersOnline” and “McKenzie Flooring”. If that’s not kismet, I don’t know what is. The location I describe below, however, is based on a catering venue here in Ottawa called Urban Element, where I’ve attended a few team-building events. I have yet to set anything on fire, though.
I checked my phone for the third time, confirming I wasn’t lost.
Frank and I moved to Edinburgh over the summer, just in time for him to start his position as Associate Professor of History at the University of Edinburgh. Despite our years spent in America, neither of us cared overmuch for driving, so we chose a flat (or rather, Frank chose a flat and I concurred) not far from campus. Therefore, this was the first time I’d ventured as far afield as Leith, a maritime enclave just to the north of the capital that couldn’t seem to decide if it wanted to be grittily working class or artistically hip.
When I finally reached the address, I had to smile. No main street pretensions or non-descript commercial frontage for Ginger Snap Catering. Before me stood a two-story red brick fire station, still emblazoned with the crest of the Scottish Fire and Rescue Services. The two massive truck bays were now enclosed by see-through doors that could be drawn back on a sunny day. Through these a warm yellow light could be seen, spilling onto the grey, damp pavement.
A petite woman with dark hair manned the small reception area, a red-haired toddler clinging to her like a marsupial. She held a phone to one ear while simultaneously pacing the polished concrete floor. I stood as unobtrusively as possible near the door, but in such an open space it was impossible not to overhear her side of the conversation.
“... they willna take ‘im back until ‘is fever goes down... aye, an hour ago when I picked him up but it hasn’t... nay, i dinna think it’s... tis jus’ terrible timing with two weddings t’morrow... Could ye? Och, I owe ye Mrs. Fitz, a million times o’er... Anytime, we’ll be here. Alright, soon.”
The speaker turned to me, the harried look of a working mother sharpening her already honed features.
“I apologize fer keeping ye waiting. What can I do fer ye t’day?”
Before I could respond, the young boy, probably no older than two, began to fuss, rubbing his flushed cheek against his mother’s shoulder.
“Och, mo ghille, Mam kens ye’re poorly. Mrs. Fitz is coming as fast as she may.”
Unable to quell my instinct to diagnose and then cure, I spoke up.
“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. Based on his age and the way he’s holding his head, it may be an ear infection.” At the woman’s penetrating look, I hastened to explain: “I’m a doctor. Would you mind if I took a closer look?”
Permission granted, I carefully palpated the boy under the jaw and peered as best I could without an otoscope into the offending ear canal. Confident in my diagnosis, I recommended treatment with a warm compress, an over-the-counter analgesic ear drop, and children’s paracetamol to control his fever. If, after twenty-four hours the symptoms had not improved, they could consider seeing his pediatrician for antibiotics, but these were only truly necessary for a persistent infection.
“Och, ye ‘ave no idea what a relief it is tae hear ye say so, lass. He’s my first bairn, ye ken, an’ I can ne’er tell if I’m over-reacting or being negligent. Can ye say thank ye tae the nice doctor, Wee Jamie?”
My stomach jumped. “Wee Jamie? Is he related by chance to Jamie Fraser?”
“Aye, tis his nephew. I’m Jamie’s sister, Jenny. Ye ken my brother, then?”
The pieces fell into place, and my insides settled.
“We’ve spoken before,” I explained. “I’m Claire Beauchamp. You and your brother helped me with a dinner party emergency last Tuesday. I came to return your market bags, and to thank you again for coming to my aid during my hour of need.”
Jenny and I spoke for another ten minutes, sharing the superficial narratives of two strangers brought together by circumstance. She was warm and thistly by turns, and I felt a longing for the honesty of female friendship that I’d given up when we left Boston. Eventually a matronly woman arrived to collect Wee Jamie. I carefully wrote down the exact names and dosages of my prescribed remedy.
After Mrs. Fitz and Wee Jamie had left, it occurred to me that Jenny needed to get back to work. I’d accomplished what I’d set out to do, even if I hadn’t thanked Jamie himself. As I began to make my goodbyes, however, Jenny interjected. “If ye’re no’ in a rush, why dinna ye join our afternoon cooking class? My brother will be demonstrating how tae make quiche. Tis the least we can do, after ye helped Wee Jamie.”
Which was how I found myself standing behind one of six cooking stations arranged across the fire station’s main area, a bright red apron covering my black slacks and saffron turtleneck. My impetuous curls were slowly breaking ranks from where I’d slicked them into a bun that morning. I worried I looked like a human Pez dispenser.
I glanced at the workstation immediately to my left. A slight woman who I guessed to be roughly my own age was engrossed in her phone, a cheeky smirk playing on her berried lips. Her strawberry blond hair was swept into an effortless chignon that made me twitch with envy. She looked up from her screen and caught me looking her way.
“Geillis Duncan,” she said, offering a well-manicured hand.
“Claire Beauchamp. Pleased to meet you.”
“Is it yer first time taking a class, Claire?” At my nod, she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially: “Ye’re in for a treat.”
Before I could enquire what she meant, a murmur amongst the other students (all women, save one) was accompanied by the heavy tread of work boots on polished concrete and a familiar Scottish burr.
“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank ye fer joining me on this dreich Scottish day. I ken a few of ye are new, so let’s start with a brief overview of yer stations and some basic safety reminders, before we tackle the quiche.”
Today Jamie was wearing a pair of olive pants that tapered down his endless legs and a technical shirt that clung valiantly to his upper body. He looked like he’d just stepped off the nearest rock climbing pitch. I wondered if he owned anything that answered to the name of a professional wardrobe, but I couldn’t deny that he looked impressive, in an athleisure sort of way.
“See what I mean?” Geillis hissed at me as Jamie made his way to the front of the hall, speaking now about optimal burner temperatures. “That man is a dozen kinds of yes.”
I concentrated on each step of the ostensibly simple recipe. Pie crust had been the previous week’s assignment, so I had only to blind bake the prepared dough already at my workstation. Once I had the crust centered exactly in the pie pan, pierced with a fork in orderly rows and placed in the oven, I rushed to catch up with the others. I’d missed Jamie’s instructions regarding pan frying the bacon, so I increased the flame, thinking I could make up a little time. The fatty meat crackled pleasingly as I set it in the lightly greased pan. I was inordinately proud of myself.
Things went very badly, very fast. First, my eyes wouldn’t stop watering as I meticulously peeled then dissected the onion into near-transparent crescents. Tears obscured my vision and I tried to wipe them away without contaminating my hands. To my left I could make out Geillis skillfully cracking eggs into a glass bowl, her pie crust already elegantly filled with crispy morsels of bacon and caramelized onion bits.
A vague sense of having forgotten something important tickled my mind. My pie crust! Grabbing a silicone glove (I wasn’t making that mistake twice) I rushed to the wall oven and extracted the pan. Giddy with relief, I saw the dough was only a little dark around the edges.
Before I could return victorious to my station, Jamie uttered a Scottish noise of alarm from his vantage at the front of the class. We both rushed across the room to where my rashers of bacon now resembled blackened shoe laces obscured by a heavy veil of smoke. With practiced ease, Jamie lifted the entire skillet into the adjacent sink and turned on the cold water. A cloud of steam enveloped his head, highlighting his auburn curls. I bit my lip as he looked my way in amusement.
“I hope ye werena planning on serving quiche to yer faculty guests t’night, Ms. Beauchamp?”
I stood meekly next to Geillis for the remainder of the class, no longer trusted around open flame without adult supervision. She graciously allowed me to extract her quiche when it was done baking. It looked like a magazine cover. Meanwhile, my workstation looked like the scene of an industrial accident.
While we were waiting for her quiche to cook, Geillis and I got to know each other a little better. She was a Highland lass from up near Inverness. Married to a wealthy older man, her life sounded like an endless quest for diversion. Despite this, or because of it, she had a sharp-witted frankness that I appreciated. She was also a hard-core gossip.
“Wee besom,” she remarked with a nod towards a blond girl who was currently monopolizing Jamie’s attention with endless questions punctuated by manufactured giggles and flicks of her pin-straight hair. “Tha’s Laoghaire Mackenzie of the Mackenzie brewing dynasty. They’ve a live-in cook, so there’s only one reason she attends these classes, and it isna for the quiche.”
I watched Jamie laugh over something the girl said, mineral eyes alight and his perfect white teeth on display. I suppose I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t here for the quiche either.
The interminable ninety minute lesson finally ended. I thanked Geillis profusely and we exchanged numbers before she rushed off for her reiki treatment. Gathering my trench coat and purse, I tried to slink away without calling any further attention to myself.
“Ms. Beauchamp!”
I cursed under my breath, then turned to face him.
“Please, call me Claire. After I nearly burned down your place of business, we should probably be on a first name basis.”
Jamie chuckled. It sounded more natural and lived-in than his earlier response to Laoghaire, but I was likely fooling myself.
“Och, wha’s a cooking demonstration wi’out a wee bit of drama. Will ye be joining us next week? We’ll be making ceviche, sae I willna need tae put the fire brigade on stand-by.”
“Bastard,” I replied to his cheeky smirk. “Alas, I don’t think I’m cut out to be a cook. It appears to be the one science I can’t master.”
“Cooking isna a science, Claire,” he explained with sincere intensity. “Tis an art. Perhaps tha’s the root of yer struggle.”
“Perhaps it is. But in that case, I may as well give up now. I haven’t an artistic bone in my body.”
His languorous perusal of said body lit a different kind of flame in my belly. Geillis was right; he really was a dozen kinds of yes.
“I canna say as I agree. Come back any time if ye’d like tae try again.”
I blushed, thoroughly discomfited by his blatant flirting. He knew about Frank. He’d fled from him onto my fire escape, for Christ’s sake! Maybe when you looked like James Fraser, every interaction with a woman was merely a chance to hone your craft. Or maybe he was truly ignorant of his effect.
“I’ll take that under advisement. Thank you again, Jamie.”
“Until the next time, Arsonist.”
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20 Questions: Writer’s Edition
Thanks for the tag @evax3 😘
How many works do you have on AO3?
41 I think, some of those are collections
What’s your total AO3 word count?
374161
How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
Primarily 1 but technically 4. ASOIAF/Game of Thrones, Black Sails, The Great (just barely), and The Last Kingdom
What are your top five fics by kudos?
Unprecedented
For One Night Only
The thrill of affection
Guaranteed to blow your mind
Love Needs No Holidays
Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
99% of the time, even if it takes me a while. Because I lurve them. I sometimes don’t if it’s an odd comment (e.g. something to do with tops and bottoms because I just can’t with it).
What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
Erm, all i want is more I think. But It is resolved in fics from the series.
What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
I think there are a number of contenders, but maybe Unprecedented. I would say my upcoming advent fic Home for Christmas will be after its actually finished/postered.
Do you write crossovers? If yes, what’s the craziest thing you’ve written?
Does the Star Wars AU count as a crossover? Throbb: A Star Wars Story
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
No, not really, I’ve had a couple of odd comments I suppose.
Do you write smut? If so what kind?
I do... I don’t know what kind?
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I don’t think so
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope
Have you ever co-written a fic?
Yep! With @evax3 and they were so much fun. You can find them here. I’d love to do more collabs.
What’s your all time favourite ship?
Oof, either Theon x Robb or Theon x Jon (throbb drives me mad with feelings where as greysnow it’s more that I love the dynamic and possibilities. I love them for different reasons)
What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
Any theonsa wip to be honest. The biggest hindrance to any getting done is lack of engagement.
What’s your writing strengths?
Probably dialogue? I will often write out dialogue first then write around it.
What’s your writing weaknesses?
Any kind of action, and often introspection.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?
Well, I have a wip (or what was a wip - Japanese Greyjoys during Sakoku/Japan’s isolation period, Scottish Robb) where some of the dialogue is written in another language but it was really difficult to know whether it was going to work. I was going to to possibly code it so that the text could be highlighted and click to make it come up in English.
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
ASOIAF/Game of Thrones
What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?
Probably Unprecedented or For One Night Only. I think Happiness would/will eventually be a contender but I guess we’ll see how it goes. I’m also fond of From the Ashes.
Tagging @st-clements-steps, @estrangedandwayward, @rainhalydia, @littlerockerao3, @northernfieldsforever, @owlsinathens, @attaining-fic, @florentium, @justeweli, @queer-crusader, @thegreatblondebalrogslayer,
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21 Asks: Fanfiction Q&A
Well I got tagged by @onereyofstarlight @gumnut-logic and @janetm74 for this, so here goes (answering on fic blog, because... fic!)
This is going to take a while, but it’s also going to be fun, so let’s get started :D
1. What fandoms have you written for?
Uhh... several. In alphabetical order because that makes my brain happy, we have:
Published: Bleach, Boku no Hero Academia (My Hero Academia), D.Gray-Man, Detective Conan, Flight Rising, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Märchen Awakens Romance (MÄR), Mortal Instruments, Naruto, One Piece, Team Fortress 2, Thunderbirds, Twilight.
WIPs (Unpublished): Avatar: The Last Airbender, Dragon Orb, Flame of Recca, HunterXHunter, Inuyasha, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures (Part 7/Steel Ball Run), Kuroko no Basuke (Kuroko’s Basketball), MI High, Yu-Gi-Oh (Duel Monsters, GX, 5Ds), Yuri On Ice
A couple of those are only because of crossovers... which we’ll get to later. Similarly, a bunch of the unpublished I have no plans to publish, but I’ve written them so they count in my head.
2. How many works do you have on AO3 &/or FFNet?
AO3: 150
FFN: 149 (the difference is due to a co-authored fic with @lenle-g on AO3, because FFN doesn’t support co-authorship)
(Tumblr has many more because so many of those fics are actually fic collections)
3. What are your top 3 fics by kudos on AO3 &/or favs on FFNet?
AO3 Kudos:
Tales From The Heart (1449)
The Combat School (524)
Succor (348)
FFN Favourites:
The Combat School (681)
Tales From The Heart (185)
Succor (136)
4. Which 3 fics have the least kudos & favs?
AO3 Kudos:
Wishes of the Dark (0)
4am Forever / Leave Out All The Rest (2)
FFN Favourites:
A Little Fall of Rain / He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother, Leave Out All The Rest / See You In The Sky / Stolen Shadows all have 0
5. Which Fic has the most comments and which has the least?
AO3 Comments:
Tales From The Heart (618)
37 have 0
FFN Reviews:
The Combat School (608)
After Sundown / Heroes Made of Gas / Splatter / Stolen Shadows (0)
6. Which complete fic do you wish had gotten more attention?
I mean, I always like attention :P That’s a hard question because my fandoms vary wildly in size, so for example, while Tales is one of my most popular fics, it’s still pretty tiny in comparison to the big One Piece fics out there, but ones like Grounded numerically barely rate while actually getting the attention of a much larger proportion of the fandom.
Honestly the fic that’s getting less of a response than I’d hoped is still incomplete... but I think I’ll go with Vulnerabilities. It’s an older fic, and a drabble collection rather than a cohesive story, but it never really got any traction.
7. Have you written any crossovers?
Ah yes, crossovers. I’ve got three published at the moment:
The Combat School (Harry Potter/D.Gray-Man)
Vampire vs. Shinobi (Naruto/Twilight)
Stolen Shadows (Flight Rising/Thunderbirds)
As far as WIPs go, I have (who knows when or if I’ll actually finish or post these):
Alliance (Naruto/Team Fortress 2)
Black Phoenix (Harry Potter/D.Gray-Man)
Legend of the Exorcists (D.Gray-Man/Yu-Gi-Oh/GX/5Ds)
Untitled (Avatar: The Last Airbender/Thunderbirds)
Untitled (Inuyasha/Lord of the Rings)
8. What is the craziest fic you’ve written?
What even counts as crazy?
Okay, I say that, but Vampire vs. Shinobi is a stupid, Twilight-bashing, parody crossover thing so. Probably that.
9. What’s the fic you’ve written with the saddest ending?
Ahaha. There are a few. All of these have MCD warnings (two are canonical), two of which are suicide, so watch out if you’re poking around:
Deception (canon)
I Promised
The Fish and the Mermaid
The Light That Shines Twice As Bright... (suicide)
Torture (suicide)
Unwanted
Whirlwind (canon)
10. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
Tsari likes positive endings. I’m not actually sure what the happiest is, though. I often write... hopeful, rather than happy? The happiest I can think of... is a WIP that I have the ending planned for but that’s spoilers~
I’ll go with Riding the Dragon, I think. But honestly just take your pick out of the family fluff.
11. What is your smuttiest fic?
Tsari does not post smut. She has written some, she has not posted it and will keep it that way.
Out of the posted stuff... there is kissing in Briefings?
12. Have you ever received hate on a fic?
I think when you hit 100+ fics, you’re lucky if you don’t. I’ve had a few here and there, but they’re ignorable
13. What is the nicest comment you’ve received?
Oh boy. I have had many nice comments, but I am going to highlight this one in particular because it’s the one that forever and always springs to mind when I get asked this:
Wow. That was pretty great. You writing managed to keep everyone in character, and still kept the story from falling flat. It's almost as if you stole a page from Cassie's story, and stuck it here. I really want to see more from you.
On: A Tradition of Pride
It’s nowhere near the longest I’ve got, and long comments make me super happy, but this one? Being told it fits in with the original book? Makes me beam like an idiot every time.
14. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
[insert eyeroll here]
I have had fics reposted, yes. Tales From The Heart and Whirlwind have both found themselves posted on sites I don’t use - I managed to get Tales taken down, but the site hosting Whirlwind isn’t paying me any attention.
15. How many fics do you have marked as incomplete?
Nine, which is both too many and not as many as I thought. Although if you ignore the collection fics - Tales From The Heart and Behind The Scenes, which are basically eternal wips - it’s seven.
16. Which of the WIPS will most likely be finished first?
Just A Bruise, because it’s already just about finished, @lenle-g and I just need to tie up the final chapter and editing the rest of it before it’s posted.
17. Which WIP are you looking forward to finishing?
Long Way From Home, because it’s going to be huge and finishing that will feel amazing. But it’s going to take a long time.
18. Is there a WIP that you’re considering abandoning?
Nope. I will, one day, finish all of them. Yes, even Uchiha Itachi.
19. Which complete fic would you consider rewriting?
Complete? None. However, the above mentioned Uchiha Itachi is being (very slowly) rewritten - and is actually on its second rewrite - because it pains me in its current state.
20. Which complete fic is your favourite?
Asking the hard questions I see. I have a soft spot for In Your Shadow, I admit, although I have several fics that I love (mostly my Military Bros stuff...). Also Tales, although that’s technically not “Complete”.
21. What’s your total published word count?
AO3: 956,962 (I aim to break 1 million by the end of the year... just watch me!)
FFN: 1,102,070 (FFN counts author’s notes, AO3 does not)
If someone is brand new to your writing, what work would you want them to start with to get to know you, your style, what you’re all about?
This is not a numbered question, I see, but it was on the post I copied these from, so I guess this is 21+1 questions!
I’ve answered this before, and honestly I think I’d stick with the same answer - Black Widow. It’s not my biggest fandom. It’s not my most recent work. But it does contain a lot of playing around canon without breaking it.
Although, if someone has the time, Tales From The Heart does great for showcasing the range of things I write. But that’s also 250+ chapters, so probably not a good one to start with.
And this is where I tag people, yes? Not entirely sure who’s been tagged already, but let’s go with @lenle-g @ak47stylegirl @thetwelvecaesars @gaviiadastra @willow-salix @scribeofred
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2020 Writing in Review
Well, it’s been a shitshow of a year, ain’t it? The one bright spot in this year was that it left me a ton of time for writing! With no further ado, here are the fics I worked on the year of our lord, 2020.
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the blood which we drew | Rated: M | Word Count: 7335 | COMPLETE
Castiel bears the Mark. And for a few months, it's fine.
It's fine until it isn't.
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ramble on | Rated: E | Word Count: 26,875 | WIP
A series of Season 15 codas, crossposted to tumblr. Tags, Warnings, and Rating may change, based on source material.
(Technically started this in 2019, but I added to it this year, so I’m counting it)
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protect and serve | Rated: E | Word Count: 49,953 | COMPLETE
Police officer Dean Winchester's next assignment seems easy enough: a protection detail on Assistant District Attorney Castiel Novak, who's been receiving death threats in conjunction with the case that he's prosecuting. Dean's assignment is to keep ADA Novak safe, alive, and in one piece so that he can start his trial against Dick Roman, notorious CEO charged with the death of at least eight people.
With threats that quickly spin out of control, a missing teenage genius, Dean's attraction to Novak, and Novak's mercurial attitude towards Dean--Dean Winchester's next assignment is anything but easy.
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what stays (and what fades away) | Rated: E | Word Count: 64,421 | COMPLETE
Cas Novak’s life is perfect. He has a job that he loves and friends who support him. Most importantly, he has his husband, Dean Winchester, and his two adopted children, Claire and Jack. With them, nothing could ever go wrong.
That is, until he starts having flashes of a life that isn’t his and meets someone who shares his husband’s face but not his personality, someone who insists that he’s someone, something, different altogether. Cas’ life shatters when he’s dragged into a world that he doesn’t belong to and doesn’t understand.
Dean Winchester’s life was already shattered when he lost Castiel.
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thunder road | Rated: E | Word Count: 20,883 | COMPLETE
After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.
OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.
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alone together | Rated: E | Word Count: 74, 239 | COMPLETE
Like the rest of the world, Dean Winchester’s job sent him home with the supplies necessary to work from home and a vague farewell of “We’ll see you when this all blows over”. Unlike the rest of the world, Dean Winchester is entering into a quarantine with Castiel Novak, his incredibly hot and incredibly uninterested roommate. How is Dean supposed to concentrate on his job while Cas is just a few feet away, being...well, Cas?
Castiel Novak was already working from home, so the news of social distancing doesn’t affect him that much. What does send him into a panic is the knowledge that Dean Winchester, his stunning and straight roommate, will also be working from home for the foreseeable future. After spending so long trying to distance himself from Dean, Castiel now has to face a future where Dean is present. All. The. Time.
They’ve got food, Internet, and all the toilet paper they need, but neither one of them is prepared for quarantine.
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for a sinner released | Rated: E | Word Count: 8,800 | COMPLETE
Testing his theory, he runs his fingers over the soft skin of Dean’s wrist, until his thumb is pressed firmly against Dean’s hammering pulse. Cas pulls, gently but inexorably, until Dean is forced to take a step forward. The shift in positioning pushes the barrel of the gun into his forehead.
Cold metal touches overheated skin, and Cas inhales sharply at the contrasting sensations. The gun is unforgiving, relentless, beautiful.
It’s like Dean.
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and all this devotion | Rated: M | Word Count: 10,572 | COMPLETE
Dean’s not stupid. He’s seen the looks Cas has aimed his way, when Cas thought he wasn’t paying attention. He’s leveled his share of looks back at Cas when the angel’s attention was elsewhere. More than once, he’s been caught in the act. At this point, they’re both dancing around the same elephant, too scared and caught in their ways to make the first move.
OR:
Dean gets hurt on a hunt. Cas takes care of him. There's only one bed. Confessions ensue.
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lost in translation | Rated: T | Word Count: 3,720 | COMPLETE
Cas bites at his lower lip, looking uncommonly shy. Worry starts to stir in Dean’s gut, which is only compounded when Cas says something else in soft yet clear Enochian. As the new phrase doesn’t have the word stupid anywhere in it, Dean doesn’t have the slightest idea of what Cas is saying. The guilt squirming in his stomach gets worse when Cas looks at him, with gentle anticipation, as though he’s expecting a reply. Dean does what humans have been doing since the beginning of time when confronted with a language they don’t understand and smiles, wide and sunny, at Cas. Cas’ forehead creases but he returns the gesture. His eyes are still brimming over with emotion and the sight does something to Dean.
Dean begins to suspect that he may have started something which he is not equipped to finish.
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a new song about a new life | Rated: E | Word Count: 21,282 | WIP
There is no happily ever after. Mostly because there is no after. Life is just a series of days and nothing ever really ends. It just continues on, even after the curtain closes, and while the struggles might not be epic, they're no less impressive. Domestic life isn't without its pitfalls and trials, but at the end of the day, Dean and Cas still have each other and in the end, that's enough.
A series of timestamps detailing the small adventures of Dean and Castiel. Will contain teensy amounts of angst and a heap of fluff and domesticity.
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angel in black | Rated: E | Word Count: 95,325 | COMPLETE
Bounty hunter Castiel Novak has simple rules for how he conducts his business. Get in, get out, deliver the fugitive, and do it all with the least amount of effort possible. Never become emotionally involved.
When he takes on the job of hunting down Sam and Dean Winchester in order to bring them to justice, his rules start shifting. Threatened by supernatural forces as well as his attraction to Dean, Castiel soon has to decide what he’s willing to stand for…and what he’s willing to die for.
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ghosts that we knew | Rated: E | Word Count: 89,411 | COMPLETE
Dean can’t help it. Castiel’s laugh is infectious, washing over him and sweeping him up in its tide. His throat and stomach ache with the feel of it, unfamiliar muscles worked past their endurance. He hasn’t laughed like this in weeks, maybe years.
Cas doesn’t stop laughing, and Dean relishes it. It’s such a good sound, deep and throaty. It rumbles over him the same way that Baby’s engine purrs, to where he can almost feel it in his gut. Dean’s giddy, the kind of happy that hunters don’t get to feel, and if it weren’t for the ceiling, he thinks he might float away. Cas’ eyes crinkle when he laughs, and his smile goes wide and gummy. He’s so brilliant, so alive—
But you’re dead, Dean thinks helplessly. But you’re dead.
---
Castiel Novak is one of the best hunters Dean Winchester has ever worked with. He's witty, whip-smart, and has enough knowledge about the supernatural to rival an encyclopedia. He's got humor dry enough to put the Sahara to shame and he's pretty easy on the eyes as well. All in all, he's the best partner Dean could have hoped for.
Too bad he's dead.
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the best of things | Rated: G | Word Count: 2,494 | COMPLETE
There’s something.
This is significant because, for as long as Castiel can remember, there’s been nothing.
---
Castiel finds a way out of the Empty.
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freedom | Rated: G | Word Count: 4,804 | COMPLETE
Freedom.
Dean rolls the word around on the tip of his tongue and tastes how it feels. Freedom.
It’s a strange concept, especially since he always assumed that he was. Ever since Apocalypse Version 1.0 was averted, Michael and Lucifer locked in the cage, thanks very much, he’s always assumed that he was the one calling the shots. No matter how badly he fucked up (and he fucked up a lot), he could at least take comfort in the fact that those were his choices. No one’s hand up Dean Winchester’s ass, no siree.
And then Chuck came and ripped that certainty away from him in one quick motion and then...everything was suspect. Sam, Mom, Jack...Cas. Every word, every action, every emotion... He couldn’t trust anything, so he trusted nothing.
---
OR: Dean makes a choice.
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at the end of the world | Rated: G | Word Count: 4,631 | COMPLETE
Rebuilding Heaven is slow work, but time doesn’t really mean anything here. It’s delicate to rebuild the walls separating billions of souls so that nothing collapses. Castiel works alongside Jack, making suggestions as his mind trips along to potential problems.
Though it’s never said aloud, Castiel knows why Jack is working tirelessly. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the knowledge sits that Sam and Dean are going to die. One day, they will pass from the earth, and come to Heaven, and on that day, Castiel wants everything to be perfect for them. He wants to show them a true paradise, a place without walls or barriers, a place where emotion is genuine and not just a manufactured memory. Rebuilding Heaven is his last chore, the last of his penance to be performed.
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OR:
Team Free Will gets the soft epilogue which they deserve.
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let your heart be light | Rated: M | Word Count: 31,651 | WIP
It's Dean and Cas' first official Christmas together as a couple. What could possibly go wrong?
Just Cas' weird family, his own personal hang-ups about Christmas, Dean's persistent belief that the miracle of Christmas can heal all wounds, and meddling friends and family.
Have a Merry Christmas.
#dothwrites#long post#2020 masterlist#i did not realize how long this was#good lord me#i'm a long-winded little SOB
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Idk if you doing requests or not rn buut, feriowind has been posting a bunch of vampire!Hermann and I needs some modern vampire Hermann and professor Newt...
uwu ily
SO I feel like I should open by saying a WIP fic with this concept by @coloredpencilroses exists and I Love it, so read High Stakes for something much better than this lol (and leave a nice comment). HAPPY OCTOBER!!!! warning for very mildly implied sexy stuff. EDIT: and of COURSE I forgot to tag @theloccent for my extremely belated fill for the “Vampire” square on my bingo card :/
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Newt has always been an extremely persistent type. He considers it, naturally, one his greatest strengths—no theory goes untested, no question goes unanswered, no experiment goes…well, unexperimented. You don’t get more PhDs than you can count on one hand if you’re not persistent. You don’t get a date with the hot new engineering professor down the hall if you’re not persistent, either, but Newt is finding this venture is taking a little more effort than usual. That’s fine, though. He likes challenges.
Dr. Gottlieb was hired by the university at the start of the semester, after the head of the engineering department—who’s nearing her seventies—finally decided she’d had enough and announced her retirement somewhat last minute. He is, frankly, unlike anyone Newt’s ever seen before, a weird combination of cheekbones, wide lips, and a turn-of-the-century old-fashioned air that carries over into everything from his wardrobe to the stiff way he carries himself. He wouldn’t look out of place in a black and white photograph, Newt thinks. Or maybe even the illustrations of a Dickens novel. That’s not why Newt’s into him, though—well, not the only reason why.
In the entire month and a half Gottlieb’s been here, he hasn’t spoken a single word to anyone his contract doesn’t require him to; when he is forced into conversation, he scowls and snaps and mumbles his way through before making a polite excuse as to why he needs to leave the room right now, immediately. No one knows anything about him other than the bare minimum—that his name is Dr. Gottlieb, he lectures in engineering, and he exists. Shit, Newt doesn’t even know his first name. The little plaque outside his office just says Gottlieb.
The mystery just makes Gottlieb all the more alluring to Newt.
Anyway, his continued failures in winning Gottlieb over aren’t a result of a lack of trying. On Gottlieb’s first day, Newt stopped by his office to introduce himself. He didn’t bother knocking. Maybe that was his first mistake. “I’m Newt,” he said. “My office is a few doors down from you. You’re the new department head?”
Gottlieb looked stricken, but he nodded. “Yes,” he said. He didn’t say anything else.
“Cool,” Newt said. “Anyway, I’m technically in the bio department, but I teach a few interdisciplinary courses with engineering, so I requested they stick me over here to get a bigger office.” He cracked a grin. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
“Hm,” Gottlieb said.
Newt tried again the next day.
“Your office is so dark,” he said, conversationally, because it was—lights all off, books stacked up everywhere, maroon drapes drawn tightly in front of the single small window. Dark and stuffy. “Feel free to stop by my office whenever you want a break from it. I have a corner one, so I have two windows.”
“I requested this office,” Gottlieb said, not looking up the article he was marking up.
Newt became desperate by his third attempt and did something that’s left him burning with shame even now, weeks later, and that would probably warrant the immediate transfers of sleep-deprived engineering majors out of all his courses if word ever got out it was him: he deliberately broke the department coffee machine. “Man, I can’t believe that thing is busted again,” he declared to Gottlieb. “Good thing I have a Keurig in my office.” Newt had gone out and purchased a Keurig immediately before destroying the coffee pot. “Seriously, come by whenever you need caffeine.”
Gottlieb blinked at him, long and slow, and Newt had the strangest sense that he knew exactly what happened to the coffee pot. “I never drink… coffee,” Gottlieb finally said.
For all Newt’s troubles, the list of things he knows about Gottlieb has expanded by two pitiful points: that his accent is English and posh, and his voice is low and sexy. Helpful.
It’s a chilly day in late October when Newt finally decides to enlist the aid of his interdisciplinary undergrads. Some of them—he learned after poking around their registration records—have a seminar with Gottlieb, and they seem his best bet at learning anything. A spouse—a first name—Newt would take Gottlieb’s favorite color, even. “So,” he starts class, unwinding his scarf off his neck, “that Dr. Gottlieb sure is weird, huh?”
In Newt’s firsthand experience, undergrads love to gossip about their professors, and his certainly don’t disappoint. Gottlieb’s classes are all held in the basement of the engineering building. All run well into the evening, after the sun’s set—most not finished until nine—and Gottlieb hustles out of the lecture hall the moment he can. He walks with a cane and a slight limp. He always dresses like that. He’s never mentioned any sort of family, and wears no wedding ring. He’s scary good at math. No one knows his first name.
“You’ve been an invaluable help,” Newt tells them all seriously.
He mulls the new information over in his office later as he grades some tests. So Gottlieb is a bit of shy, reclusive, genius. No surprise there. Well, his apparent hatred of sunlight is kind of weird (if unsurprising, given how pale he is) but maybe he just has sensitive eyes or something. Who is Newt to judge? At least he knows how to improve his next plan of attack—he just has to ask the guy to come over and sit in a dark room in silence with him. That’s probably Gottlieb’s dream date, actually.
There’s a knock on Newt’s office door. Newt looks up and drops his pen: it’s Gottlieb.
“Uh. Hey, dude!” he squeaks, unsure of how to proceed in this entirely unfamiliar territory. Gottlieb, willingly interacting with him? Willingly leaving his office? “Is there…can I help you with something? Did you want that coffee after all?”
“Most definitely not,” Gottlieb says coolly. He’s standing far enough back from the door that not a single sliver of lamp light from Newt’s office hits him, instead shrouded by the shadows of the dark engineering department. Newt didn’t realize how late it had gotten. “My students informed me that you were interrogating them about me.”
It’s not a question. Newt is struck by a wave of nervousness that he doesn’t quite understand—maybe it’s the sour expression Gottlieb is giving him, something in those dark brown eyes that are piercing through Newt. He feels, foolishly and briefly, like cowering under his desk. He swallows. “Yes,” he says, and adds, stammering, “I mean—I wasn’t interrogating them. I was just asking a few questions.”
“Why?” Gottlieb says.
“Uh,” Newt says. “I guess I was…curious, about you?”
He works up the guts to look Gottlieb in the eyes; he sees Gottlieb’s eyebrows jump the tiniest fraction of an inch. “You’re attracted to me,” Gottlieb says, another non-question, though Newt hears a flicker of surprise.
“Yeah,” Newt admits.
“I see,” Gottlieb says. Then, to Newt’s surprise, he suddenly smiles. “I’d like if you invited me over for dinner, Dr. Geiszler.”
“Dinner,” Newt says. He feels strangely dizzy; but, shaking himself, he quickly gets over it. “I mean, dinner! Yes! Shit! When?”
“Tonight, I should think,” Hermann says.
Tonight is Friday, which means they don’t have work tomorrow. By the time they make it off campus it’ll be almost ten—way later than people eat dinner—and besides, Newt already had a sandwich at around seven. Is dinner a euphemism? Is Gottlieb propositioning him? God, why didn’t he wash his sheets with the laundry this week? “Tonight,” Newt says. He stands up abruptly and grabs his leather jacket with trembling fingers. Why is he trembling? Nerves, he guesses. He’s about to hook up with total hottie Dr. Gottlieb, he’s allowed to be nervous. “Fuck yes. Let’s go now.”
Gottlieb is not impressed with the messy state of Newt’s apartment, and even less impressed with the state of Newt’s refrigerator and freezer. “Dinosaur chicken nuggets and canned Lime-A-Ritas,” he says with a sniff. “Hm. You ought to be getting more vitamins, Dr. Geiszler. I’m certain you’re deficient in something.”
“You sound like my dad,” Newt snorts. He throws his car keys on the counter and shrugs off his jacket. “There’s some leftover Chinese on the second shelf if you want it—just some lo mein. Or I could put a frozen pizza in the oven. Or I guess we could order something too?”
Gottlieb shuts the fridge door delicately. “How kind of you to offer,” he says. He doesn’t sound like he means it. Newt is suddenly struck by how bizarre a sight he is in the midst of Newt’s chaotic kitchen: buttoned up to the throat with his stupid shirt and blazer, prodding at the fraying lime lizard-shaped rug by the sink with the end of his ornately-handled cane. Out of time and out of place.
“It’s Newt,” Newt says. “Please don’t call me Dr. Geiszler, it makes me feel ancient.”
“Hm,” Gottlieb says.
“And what,” Newt says, deciding to test his luck a little, “uh—what should I call you?”
Gottlieb considers him. “Hermann,” he says.
The name rings a bell in the back of Newt’s head. He swears he’s heard it somewhere before—an article, maybe. A book. Has he stumbled across Dr. Gottlieb’s research before without even realizing it? He’s on the verge of asking what publications Gottlieb’s been featured in when Gottlieb suddenly snags hold of his hand; then, raising it to his mouth, he kisses it. His lips are as cold as his skin. “Would you like to show me to your quarters, Newton?” he murmurs.
Newt shivers; he nods.
“Hermann Gottlieb,” Newt says aloud later, while Hermann redresses himself. “Now I know where I’ve heard that name before.”
“Yes?” Hermann says. He’s lacing up one of his Oxfords.
“I worked with his research in one of my dissertations,” Newt says. “Another Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, I mean. He was a brilliant mathematician from—God, 1830-something. German. His work was groundbreaking for the time, or shit, for our time, too.” He remembers seeing a portrait of that Hermann Gottlieb in one of his sources; the whole of the similarities between him and Newt’s Hermann Gottlieb (the dark eyes, the mouth, the cheekbones) are a little too much to be entirely coincidental. “You must be related to him, right? Like, he’s your great-great-great—”
“Yes,” Hermann cuts him off quickly. He turns to Newt and smiles. “A distant ancestor, certainly. I believe you are the first in some time to have made that connection.”
“Always thought he was cool,” Newt yawns. “Man, I’m tired.” The romp with Hermann had been fun, if not unexpectedly exhausting, and a little…out of the ordinary. The dude apparently has some sort of weird biting kink that left Newt’s neck stinging a little bit, but it’s cool, Newt doesn’t mind. It was like boning a vampire or something. Kinda hot. “Do you need me to show you to the door, or can I just stay here? I’m serious about spending the night though. I really don’t mind.”
Hermann fiddles with the laces of his other shoe, then, slowly, draws the whole thing back off. “If it’s not an imposition,” he says, and smiles again, shyly. “Though, I warn you—I’m a bit of a late sleeper.”
“Good, so I am,” Newt says. “Could you toss me the sweatshirt hanging on that chair? You can grab one for yourself too, if you’re cold, I’ve got another hanging in the closet. No, not--yeah, that door.”
They dip under the covers and get cozy, Newt taking on the task of big spoon, because Hermann is a cold sonofabitch and could use a little insulation. The last thought on his mind before he drifts off to a comfortable sleep is how strange it is he can’t feel Hermann’s heartbeat—though, he realizes, it’s probably just muffled by their clothing.
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wip wednesday
okay this is long enough to qualify as a one-shot, but it’s not complete? so yeah, anyway, this is my take on a roleswap for the Wen sibs where Wen Qing is the fierce corpse and Wen Ning is the one who finds Wei Wuxian. I don’t see myself ever coming back to finish this. It’s a mishmash of cql & the novel, so enjoy!
(cw for the slave camps, dehumanization, vaguely described corpse of a child (and adult), and character death)
technically not a one-shot under the cut :)
“Jiejie!” Wen Ning is screaming, slogging through the piles of bodies. Wei Wuxian’s stomach rolls at the sight of a boy no older than twelve, the blood on his face evident even in the darkness of the stormy night. He’s seen worse, he knows, but the sight of dead children is never easy.
He searches, too, for the woman who saved his brother. For the woman who damned him.
When Wen Ning finds her face down in the water, robes torn and her own sword stabbed through her chest, he screams, and Wei Wuxian turns away to give him privacy in his grief.
He hears the distant clash of swords, and then realizes that Wen Ning is not the only one who has lost someone, and the Jin sect cultivators will likely be unappreciative of someone seeing their cruelty. Wei Wuxian sends one last glance at Wen Ning, sobbing over the body of his sister, and runs back up the hill.
He arrives at a slaughter.
Wei Wuxian barely thinks before he’s pulling out Chenqing, beckoning the corpses at the bottom of the hill and the new ones at the top to destroy the Jin cultivators. The Wens destroyed Lotus Pier, destroyed his family and his home, but these Wens did nothing to deserve what is being done to them.
He saw a child. A little boy no older than three and his grandmother, no younger than sixty, forced to march in the pouring rain for the crime of their name.
The corpses leave the Wens alone, listening to Chenqing. The Jins scream. The Wens run, hiding in the sheds that are masquerading as huts. When there are no more screams, Wei Wuxian lowers Chenqing, letting the resentful energy seep out of him.
“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning implores, and Wei Wuxian realizes that he’s been speaking for longer than Wuxian has heard him.
He shakes his head, once, twice, to clear away the last of the shadows, and turns to Wen Ning. “Sorry, Wen Ning,” he says, making no attempt to bring false cheer into his voice.
“We can’t stay here, Wei-gongzi,” he says, like he’s repeated it multiple times, and Wei Wuxian nods, slowly. The gears in his head always slow down after he uses Chenqing, and he has to force them to work faster.
He can’t take the Wens to Lotus Pier; Jiang Cheng would rather lose his core again than shelter the Wens. They can’t go to Cloud Recesses; the Lans abhor his cultivation. Koi Tower is out of the question, and Nie Mingjue would rather all the Wens be killed. “I know where I can take you,” he says, wishing there were a better option, but knowing there isn’t one.
“Bring jiejie,” Wen Ning says, and Wei Wuxian realizes that Wen Ning is holding Wen Qing’s body up. Her sword is stuck through Wen Ning’s belt.
“We won’t leave her,” he says, surveying the wrecked work camp. “Your family went into the buildings when I started playing Chenqing.”
“Keep jiejie with you,” Wen Ning says. Wei Wuxian takes her body as Wen Ning goes into the first building.
Wei Wuxian heaves Wen Qing into a bridal carry. She’s so much thinner than the last time he saw her, and her once-fine robes haven’t been altered to reflect that.
He has seen things much worse than the dead body of a woman he was close to, in a way. He feels sick anyway, seeing proud Wen Qing turned into nothing more than a starving slave. Turned into a too-thin corpse.
Wen Ning leaves the first building with several elders following him. “This is Wei-gongzi. He won’t hurt you.”
Then he goes into the next building. Wei Wuxian shifts his weight. “Do any of you know where the guards’ horses are kept?” he asks.
A man around fifty steps forward. “I do, young Wei-gongzi,” he says.
“We’ll need enough for everyone able to ride. We aren’t staying here.”
The man bows, and Wei Wuxian returns his gaze to Wen Ning, coming out of the next building. He’s holding the boy from earlier tightly, the grandmother clinging to his arm. The trio is followed by a collection of Wens that are slightly younger than the first group. The youngest among them looks around nineteen, but the rest are all forty or older.
“Wei-gonzi, this is everyone,” Wen Ning says. The elder has come back leading some horses.
“If you know how to ride, get a horse. Those with injuries go with those who are able to ride. I know a place where you will be safe,” Wei Wuxian says. His hair is heavy with water, and he does not look forward to riding in the rain.
He finds his own horse, and the teenager from the second group comes up to him. He vaguely recognizes her as one of the Wen disciples who had followed Wen Chao around at Cloud Recesses. He remembered thinking she was far too young for all the rules of the Gusu Lan sect.
“Thank you, Wei-gongzi,” she says, and bows.
Wei Wuxian catches her bow best he’s able, holding Wen Qing as he is. “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t got you all to safety yet.”
She frowns. “You have still saved us some,” she refutes, but there’s a shout from the elders near the gate before Wei Wuxian can respond.
“Someone is coming!” he shouts, scrambling back from the wooden fence.
Wei Wuxian sucks in a sharp breath and then whirls to face his horse. He heaves Wen Qing up onto it, then turns to the girl. “Can you still cultivate?” he asks her.
She nods, eyes wide. “But not very well. I don’t have much energy for it. And I haven’t been allowed to cultivate at all since Qishan fell.”
“That’s good enough. Stay with Wen Ning and protect everyone here. Get everyone to Yiling however you can, understand? I’ll distract the cultivators here and meet you all there. Take Wen Qing,” he orders, and he knows that the elders nearby have also heard, because they all go to the back part of the compound.
Wei Wuxian pulls out Chenqing and plays a quick song that sends the fence on that end of the compound crumbling at the hands of a few corpses. There’s a shout from one of the Wens, and then the horses are galloping away.
Wei Wuxian keeps playing, and more corpses rise to flank him as he steps out of the gate.
“Wei Ying.”
He drops his flute down to his side, staring at Lan Zhan.
so yeah.
Anyway, free fic idea looking for good home! I don’t see myself getting into this one, bc if I ever get around to writing cql/mdzs stuff again, I’ll be going for my Wen!wwx au
#wip wednesday#chen qing ling#the untamed#modao zushi#mdzs#wei wuxian#wen ning#wen qing#i feel kinda rude tagging her bc she's kinda dead#but it wouldn't exist without her#and the reader knows she come back eventually#but just not in this snippet lol#fierce corpse!wen qing au#this is from june 2020#so yeah#enjoy!
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Fanfiction Asks
tagged by @galadrieljones, thanks!
Name: I like having “Shakes” as a fun alter ego, hehe <3
Top 5 Fandoms Written: In order
Dragon Age, and I have written for all three games at some point or other
DBH, Retired from it. Main fic is done and I said my peace. I just liked the robots as well, lol.
Red Dead Redemption 2. Finished main work, but door isn’t closed on writing more.
Game of Thrones/ASOIAF. Just Jaime and Brienne, actually went back to a fic I started last year for them.
Resident Evil. Just one piece, Leon and Ada. I will probably write more when we get more RE content.
Top 5 Fandoms You Want To Write For/More: Much like Gala fandoms aren’t something I choose, they knock on the door and ask me to write for them. I find just because I love a piece of media (like Outlander) doesn’t mean I necessarily want to write for it as well. I started with Dragon Age I think because I loved the idea of developing my own OC’s backstory and dynamic she has with others in between game moments. Briefly however I wrote some Mass Effect a few years ago and would love to again once the release comes out.
Stories You Wish More People Knew About: I’m grateful for all my interaction to be honest. I think I’ve been very lucky. However at the time I’ll admit I wished my DBH fic got more feedback. Comparison is the thief of joy but I noticed how Connor x Reader fics got more attention than writing OCs and it bummed me out because I worked really hard on this story. (I was however not a great mental place at the time. It was not pleasant HOWEVER I am much better now <3) That being said I am grateful for the people who did read this story and left me comments, because there were quite a bit in retrospect and I am so thankful for you all :)
Ship(s) Written The Most: There is no contest, it’s Cullen and Lydia from Dragon Age between my ongoing series with them, one shots, and tumblr prompts throughout the years now lost to the void. Recently (well, November) I recently got back into them as well. that’s when I decided to continue my long fic like I always wanted--but just got distracted with other fandoms in the time in between. It’s good looking at them with fresh eyes however, especially since I finished the first part before starting grad school...like the week before, and now I’m about to finish (Knock on wood) Poetic cinema.
Character(s) Written The Most: Cullen and Lydia between everything. There’s no contest, though Connor and Sophie from DBH follow. After that it’s Jaime and Brienne and Charlotte and Arthur from RDR2.
How Many OCs Do You Have: Lydia is my most developed OC followed by Sophie from DBH. I also have a newish Cousland Warden OC that romances Morrigan and a Hawke that features in my DA longfic that I’ve tried to write more of recently who romances Fenris. I have a last of Us OC as well for a short fic I may publish one day, and completely original characters from my novel. I also have side characters from my fics that technically count as OCs. (Lydia’s brother, her templar boyfriend from the Circle, Cullen’s ex girlfriend from Kirkwall, Lydia’s father, Sophie’s father and mother, Charlotte’s brother....list goes on)
How Many Series Do You Have: My “Dreams” saga where all the Cullen and Lydia stuff go, a series of assorted Dragon Age one shots, and all my Connor and Sophie stuff which includes the main fic and a few one shots.
What Do You Do With Fics You’re No Longer Interested In?: Wait for the muse and accept it might not come back. It did for my RDR2 fic and my GOT fic, and heck my DA modern AU. Others haven’t been so lucky but it does happen.
Coming Soon: IWD, chapter 65. More Tulsa Queen, though since my exam is coming up I have to focus more on that than my WIPS, but April I’ll be a new woman. :D And My Morrigan fic as well. Also that Jaime and Brienne actor/actress AU. Smutty POTO one shot.
Do you see a problem here? I do. lol.
Line From A WIP: Christine is every star in the night sky. More so a placeholder we’ll see if it stays or sticks
Do You Accept Prompts?: I did on a regular basis once, but I got burnt out and people asked me for pairings I honestly wasn’t interested in. Now every so often, I reblog a prompt list and sometimes they sit in my box forever oops I’m sorry.
How Do You Feel About Kudos?:Every one is precious. Thank you all who’s every felt compelled to click it.
Do You Read Fic As Well?: I try to! Between writing, reading assigned readings and published books it’s difficult but I definitely do :)
tagging @thevikingwoman @juliafied @musetta3 @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold @jentrevellan @kunstpause @elveny @noire-pandora @laraslandlockedblues @dismalzelenka @queen-kass-the-writer @laelior @alyssalenko
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I was not technically tagged, but at least two people on my dash were like DO WHAT YOU WANT NO ONE IS YOUR GOD, and you know what? They’re right and valid.
1) How many works do you have on AO3?
96! And 90% of them are from just this year. Can’t wait to find out what the big 100 is gonna be. Any one of my WIPS could be Disney’s next 100th fic.
2) What’s your total AO3 word count?
455,024 (also mostly from this year...)
3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
In my entire life??? Since I was twelve??? I don’t even know, man. I wrote a lot of ooc crackfic and fic for cartoons when I was on FF.net, and then I was on LJ and wrote for a TON of different fandoms, but on AO3, I have written for Critical Role (so much CR), Yashahime/Inuyasha, Guardians of the Galaxy, His Dark Materials (TV), Steven Universe, Bleach, Alias, Supernatural, Dollhouse, Pushing Daisies (the last four were all transferred here from LJ, though)
4) What are your top five fics by kudos?
- turning wine back into water (Critical Role, de-aging fic with plot, 30457 words)
I STILL CANNOT BELIEVE HOW POPULAR THIS FIC IS. It beat out two of my super popular GotG fics that have been up since 2017 BY A LOT. Apparently, there was a market for the Mighty Nein being adorable cocktail brats and saving the world. Thanks, Liam’s Quest!
It is probably one of the most wholesome fics I will ever write too. I love it.
- Sunshine Came Softly (Guardians of the Galaxy, Rocket and Mantis friendship, 3188 words)
THIS FIC STILL GETS HITS EVEN TODAY. It was written right after I saw the movie so it hit hard and fast on the hype train.
- Mine Is Just a Slower Sacrifice (Guardians of the Galaxy, Rocket-centric, 2248 words)
BOY YOU CAN TELL THESE FICS ARE ANCIENT BECAUSE I HADN’T DEVELOPED MY TITLE NICHE YET. where are the lower caps and Seanan McGuire lyrics!!
Anyway, this was written probably IMMEDIATELY after I saw the movie and had to process Rocket’s emotions during the last moments, because of who I am as a person. For what’s mostly a character study, it got some mileage on it.
- they drink dreamers up like brandy (Critical Role, 1625 words)
Back to Critical Role! I wrote this one when I was in a fucking blind post-finale haze and producing massive amounts of Kingsley content and I wanted to write a silly fic about Caleb being tiefling catnip.
- if adversity breeds character (we’ve character enough for two) (Critical Role, Beau and Molly-centric, 1824 words)
I feel like most of my most kudos-ed CR fics are Beau-related, which is funny because I never really wrote her EVER. I guess I need to write her more often. ANYWAY, this one got jossed immediately after 141, but I needed to write Beau and Molly bantering and I couldn’t get her flipping him off after revealing her card is Rumor out of my head.
(Incidentally my sixth most kudos-ed fic is my Fjorester next gen fic, WHICH I WAS NOT EXPECTING AT ALL. IT’S A FIC BASED ON MY OC FANCHILDREN!! I’M VERY EMOTIONAL ABOUT THAT!!)
5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
Usually!! There are times when I forget and then it’s been so long that I never go back, but I like responding to comments. They make me so happy and I want to make sure the people who take the time to comment know that I see them and appreciate them. Especially if they give me long comments. You long commenters know who you are and I value you and also flail incoherently in your direction.
6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
God, probably this church takes no conversions simply because, like, the whole ending scenes are MISERABLE AND FULL OF ANGST and then it has the hopeful ending that is actually a bullshit lie.
But second place probably goes to what couldn’t i offer, what couldn’t i give, which is just misery porn in disguise as a character study. Sorry, Cree.
7) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?
Okay, so back in the day when I was a tineh fanbrat I wrote a lot of self-indulgent crossovers featuring my friends and I in true Mary Sue format being ~saviors of the world~ alongside our favorite fictional characters and after I grew out of that, I very rarely did it again, because as someone who can only write AUs if they’re high concept and can only write crossovers if the canon welding is pristine, it’s difficult.
I have ideas for some! I just haven’t written them yet. Or they’re sitting in Google Docs partially written.
8) Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Not to my recollection, which is insane, because I’ve written some things in my youth that deserved it, but also I was a kid, so maybe I definitely did not deserve it. Don’t send hate to kids!!
9) Do you write smut? If so what kind?
The first smut I ever posted on AO3 involved some fucking American Gods flesh horror shit, so that answers your second question.
Basically, yes, but I write smut to facilitate character development in a way that regular story beats can’t, mainly with characters who are in some way deeply fucked up and have unbalanced dynamics.
So basically chances of me writing smut that isn’t Creecien or Lucigast? Very low. (I haven’t written Lucigast smut yet but I will. Inevitably.)
10) Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that anyone’s told me, but one time when I was a teenager someone ripped off an entire group messageboard RP I was in and tried to pass it off as a fic they wrote.
11) Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that anyone’s told me!
12) Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I tried and it did not work out, because of (non-wanky) reasons, but it’s just not something I’d be very good at. I was the kid who wanted to work alone on group projects. I’m bad at group work.
13) What’s your all time favourite ship?
That I’ve WRITTEN??? Because that at least narrows it down significantly. Sesshoumaru/Rin hands down. It’s a good dynamic and they’re fun and sad at the same time.
My self-indulgent ass does also enjoy writing Creecien though. I’m putting it out there because I want it.
14) What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
GOD POOR SUPERNOVAS OF ALL SOUND AND LIGHT. THAT FIC COULD’VE BEEN A CONTENDER, but I unfortunately posted it RIGHT BEFORE the White Diamond episodes aired and it became so jossed by canon so fast that I gave up on life with chapter two half finished. I need to delete it but I can’t bring myself to bury my shame.
15) What are your writing strengths?
Dialogue and meta-narrative and character-specific stuff. I go into every story with CHARACTER FIRST mentality, which is how I end up writing so many damn character studies or why my word counts explode. I’m just out here naval gazing because I love character stuff SO MUCH.
I’ve been told I’m good at fight/action scenes too, which... Shocks me, but I think watching and playing a lot of D&D stuff has really improved how I write fighting and action sequences.
16) What are your writing weaknesses?
[whispers] too much naval gaze. dial it back, bitch.
I get really caught up in character stuff and forget to do important things like ADVANCE THE SCENE OR DESCRIBE THE SCENE OR LITERALLY ANYTHING. I also don’t think my prose is all that great, but I’m pretty sure every writer feels that imposter syndrome bullshit, so /waves hands. All I’m saying is I have seen some writers on AO3 who are writing some fucking vivid imagery and stringing flawless sentences together and weaving introspection and description together like beautiful baskets and they are stronger than any US Marine and I salute them and wish to be them.
17) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
Iiii try not to. There’s times where I want to throw in, like, a little Zemnian for Caleb flair, but I try to stick to things that are either untranslatable (like German compound words), common phrases (like please or come here), or insults/curses/ pet names. Things that I don’t think Google will fucking lie to me about.
18) What was the first fandom you wrote for?
I think it was a Sailor Moon crackfic about Haruka being forced to enter a beauty pageant which was just a blatant rip-off of Ms Congeniality and oh my god was it awful. I don’t even wanna talk about it.
19) What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?
this church takes no conversions, probably BECAUSE it’s my little red-headed stepchild of a fic involving so many things that are just never going to make it popular (backstory fic, fic that is almost 85% headcanon, doesn’t involve popular characters, etc.), but godDAMMIT I love that fic so much. It was fun and I use every bit of that headcanon in almost everything like it’s my job.
shattered stage is a close second, because it was such a crazy concept for a fic that I PULLED OFF SOMEHOW and is this wonderful mix of crazy plot and character and lore and my three favorite tieflings having to work together. And also Jayne Merriweather as the main villain.
A lot of love went into both of those fics and they are my babies. this time next year we’ll see if I add Creedemption and shoot at fate to this list- probably. All of my epic long fics resolve to be my babies because I spent so much time on them, and I have to love them and cherish them because I raised them into gigantic wordy attempts to write a doorstopper.
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2020 In Review: Wordcount Tag
I was tagged for this by @actualanxiousswampwitch , thank you! I’m not sure who’s already done or been tagged for this cause I am, once again, late to the party LOL but I shall (no pressure and sorry if you’ve already done it!) tag: @rainofaugustsith , @darth-bagel , @thatmmolesbian , @thelastenvoyyy and anybody else who wants to do this. Yes, I promise I mean you!
Words: 45,314
Published: 0 (I’m not counting the couple of Six Sentence tags I’ve gotten, they’re snippets of an unfinished piece & are included below instead :), or roleplay replies, cause that feels like cheating lol.)
I actually wrote a lot more than I thought I had, this is a rough guesstimate as well, as my oneshot WIPs tend to be all over the place across something like 6 different documents, some of which have existed since 2018, so I had to guess at how far up to count from the end for some of them, but I think it’s a fair guesstimate XD
I also have included lore/worldbuilding docs in this because that was a 3-month long Lockdown 1.0 Boredom/”Canon is a trash fire so I’m ignoring that and making up my own lore” passion project and I’m goddamn proud of how much I wrote for that. It’s the most I’ve written in one stretch (think I finished it over a span of 3 nights or so, once I’d done all the research and made all the notes ofc ^^)
Not Published: 45,314
The Breakdown:
swtor - 45,314
for creeping shadows (my main longfic/part one of the subterfugeverse series) - 1,553 - Aria, stop being difficult! *shakes fists* XD
oneshots - 16,223
lore/worldbuilding (for subterfugeverse naturally) - 23,001 (is this ALL tomato alien lore? pretty much, yes, yes it is :’D ~400 words is “the WIP reworked timeline to correlate my worldbuilding with the canon timeline that was released”, but 98% is just...me thinking way too much about Purebloods and how they deserved way better goddamn lore. I blame @fluffynexu ‘s amazing tomato worldbuilding posts, reading them when I went looking for “canon” lore one day for the rp is what got me started down that rabbithole (it’s awesome and if you haven’t already you should totally go check hers out too :DD), I had a “fuck you then canon I’ll do it myself too >:L” moment and once I started I couldn’t stop until I’d crapped out literally over 20k words on the subject *whispering* thank you LOL)
zephyrverse au bonus oneshots - 4,537 (stuff I wrote to fill in time gaps or “just cause I had a plot bunny”, relating to mine and k-christine’s zephyrverse au rp. None of these will likely be posted publicly, but they still deserve to be counted as words I wrote this year :’D
As you can see, most of my “muse” this year came from sporadic oneshots :’D The Ahaszaai twins also properly plot-bunnied their way into my brain in late 2019 and haven’t stopped making a nuisance of themselves the whole fucking year. Every time I tried to carry on with a chapter, one of the two of them would pop up like “Nooo write about ME! pay attention to ME!” - Yes, Ni’kasi, I will get to you this year, I promise XD
New Things I Tried:
Just Writing. Not worrying about whether “it wasn’t part of the next chapter” or “it comes from a part in the story that I’m nowhere near close to posting yet”. If I felt like writing something, or for a specific pairing/feeling/scene, whatever. I wrote until I ran outta muse juice. Yeah, it meant I didn’t technically “finish” anything this year BUT - the important thing is I wrote stuff. and that’s all that really matters, eh? :’D
Polyam ships! May not seem like a big deal but I spent a long time talking myself out of them because of internalised toxic monogamy and finally saying “you know what, fuck it! I can ship three or more people together and it can still be a perfectly wholesome, healthy and loving relationship and that’s okay” was a BIG thing for me this year.
Dialogue Scripts: which I didn’t count as wordcount because really it’s just word vomit of general tone/inflection and dialogue that I came up with right before falling asleep which I didn’t want to lose. Basically, if an exchange or a particularly punchy or moving line of dialogue popped into my brain but I wasn’t ready to write the whole scene that it fit into out, but didn’t want to forget the line(s). I wrote it out in movie script/script-style roleplay fashion e.g. Character’s Name: (emotion, hand gestures etc.) [Dialogue here] and so on. I know this is probably a well known trick of the trade, but I never took it seriously until this year. Seriously, do it. It’s great.
Favorite Thing I Wrote:
Hmmm, a snippet for Andronikos/Ni’kasi that I started this week which isn’t posted yet (saving it for this week’s Six Sentence Sunday so look out for it! :D) was pretty fun to work on, I love their dynamic and Kas is suprisingly fun to write for.
Also the Aria/Vano proposal scene that I posted a snippet for the week before last. I’m having great fun with that scene, and I really enjoy putting a non-serious spin on the classic “proposal scene” tropes. Can’t wait to finish it, though it may be a while before the full one goes up on AO3, as it depends whether it ends up fitting in as part of the mainfic or as an additional oneshot
And I have a D’leah/Kissai oneshot that I need to give another once-over before I finally yeet it onto AO3 and Tumblr for you guys to see :’D
Favorite Fic I Read:
@sleepswithvillains Eleanora/Quinn fic, Helplessly Hoping. I’m horribly behind on chapters and I gotta catch up and read the finale this week, but it’s been a helluva great ride and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the story! <3
Also The Invitation collab with @tishinada featuring Zas and Fiona had me squealing, I can’t wait to catch up on HH and see more of these two, they’re adorable ;-;
@a-muirehen ‘s Relu/Merkara series of course! I’m a complete sucker for (friends to lovers to in Ariano’s case but yea pfpfpf) enemies to lovers ships and these two are just so good, I am on the edge of my seat every time we get a new snippet for them, ngl (grimace emoji)
@darth-bagel ‘s Sylvas/Graz’zt and Sylvas/Liz/Rilfaen snippets which they’ve been spoiling me with on Discord
@mercurypilgrim ‘s Ven’fir/Quinn AU oneshots, Cloudbank (Western was a particular favourite, but all are very good!)
and of course @rainofaugustsith ‘s Lana/Viri updates are always fantastic, some personal favourites from this year were Almost There & Memory of Healing :3 (I totally still go back to read Commander & Advisor too sometimes, getting to see Viri be a little diabolical and messing with “MiNiSTeR LoRMaN!” was and still is my favourite thing XD)
If I’ve left you out I’m sorry!! These were the ones that stuck out in my memory, but I’ve loved everyone’s writing this year, it’s been great :3
Writing Goals:
to actually finish and post chapter 8 & 9 of Creeping Shadows. Then we’ll get to the meat and potatoes of the story and maybe Aria will stop being a brat and fighting me every time I try to stick to a semi-regular update schedule
Get off my butt, finalise the name and get started on Ni’kasi’s part of the Subterfugeverse story. Maybe run the updates in-tandem with Creeping Shadows but idk if I want to wait till after CS is done before I start posting Kas’s side, or do them side-by-side yet, we’ll see ;)
Keep writing! I know better than to pressure myself by setting a specific word count goal, that’s never worked well in the past
At least 2 chapters of each of the works mentioned above would be great though, more would be better! We’ll see how I go
Words of Thanks:
honestly, to everybody in the fandom I’ve met this year. Anybody that I follow, thank you for being there and engaging with me and/or posting amazing content for me to look at! I came over from deviantART where the SWTOR fandom is incredibly small and generally quite inactive and the contrast since moving over here has been incredibly uplifting. I very nearly cancelled Creeping Shadows and stopped posting fic for my SWTORverse altogether because I got next to no engagement on dA and it was very disheartening to the point where I felt I could enjoy the game and the rp partners I had, but the solo projects I’d put so much thought, time and love into already weren’t worth continuing. You guys took that spark and kept it going and I really don’t have enough words to say how grateful I am for that.
Even if I haven’t published much this year, making posts on this tumblr, interacting with everyone and working on lore, plot points and so on for Subterfugeverse has kept me going through the Hellish Year of Nightmares that was 2020 <3
to the amazing new friends I’ve made in this past year, who have listened to me ramble about headcanons, character backstories, writing snippets (and rambled/sent some back), keep being awesome: @walk-ng-d-saster , @darth-bagel , @kyber-heart , @deepseacritter , @thedinalixlegacy
to further friends and meme tag buddies, I get so excited every time I see a mention for a new meme or ask game in my inbox, so thank you!! : @mimabeann , @palepinkycat , @a-master-procrastinator , @raven-of-domain-kwaad , @actualanxiousswampwitch , @thatmmolesbian , @a-muirehen
to my regular commentors/rebloggers/likers/askbox lurkers, I see every one of you and every time your users pop up I grin like a kid in a toy shop: @starlightjedi , @sparkles-and-rust , @wilvarin-chan , @sunsetofdoom , @ask-an-andalite , @thelastenvoyyy . @lyrishadow and more because Tumblr only goes so far back and I have the memory of Swiss Cheese. If you regularly comment, like, reblog, or anything, from me, know that I see you, and I love and appreciate you for it! <3
I couldn’t possibly remember to tag everyone and I promise if I missed you out it’s not because I hate you!
Anxiety just sometimes be a bitch and I don’t wanna look like a clown calling someone a “friend” if I’m not explicitly sure we are, in fact, friends. I think you’re all awesome and I’m so glad to have moved over here and met you all <3
#long post#wordcount year review tag#elven's writing: stats#repost bc i goofed some links woops sorry everyone#^^;#will i eventually post any of this stuff? yes!#i will. i just...don't know *when* the time will be right for most of it hahaha#the only bits i won't post are the zephyrverse-specific oneshots cause i just don't feel like i want to#but everything else will (eventually) in some capacity be thrown into the void for all of you to read#shameless friend appreciation post#shameless mutual and follower appreciation post#<3#swtor sort of
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Tagged by @shoreslip
Name(s): Kira, Kiraly (on AO3, Dreamwidth, Discord) worldsentwined (Tumblr, Twitter)
Fandom(s): So if we go by “has created fanwork for at some point” I have at least twelve under my belt, maybe more if I’ve made some fanart that isn’t on AO3. Currently my brain is pointing at The Queen’s Thief and The Murderbot Diaries, with a side order of DnD, but I can’t quite give up on my unfinished SSSS works.
Where you post: Fic? AO3, with a rare ficlet on Tumblr. Fanart mainly goes here, when it happens. DnD character backstory is mostly just on Discord for now, I don’t know if it would be worth it to cross-post.
Most Popular One Shot (by kudos) this year: Contingency Plan 6186 words, 135 kudos
Most Popular One Shot (by kudos) Overall: Borrowed (The YOI fandom was SO good for my self-esteem, this one got like five comments within an hour of posting). 6106 words, 482 kudos
Most Popular Multi-Chapter (by kudos) this year: Oh hey, I actually did post a chapter of Every Little Thing He Does Is Magic this year! Time is totally fake. 31906 words, 40 kudos, I swear I will not leave you all hanging with the current chapter forever.
Most Popular Multi-Chapter (by kudos) Overall: If we’re counting ficlet collections, it’s Vignettes with 8437 words and 145 kudos (technically unfinished, as I will keep dumping Emil/Lalli ficlets here if I have them). If we aren’t, it’s still Before It Was Cool even after all this time - 31899 words, 118 kudos, unfinished and increasingly likely to stay that way I’m so sorry y’all.
Favorite story you’ve written so far: Oh gosh, I don’t know how to choose! Picking some from this year that aren’t already on the list, I’m so proud of how Seven Summers Ago turned out, Soldier, Poet gives me SO many feels, and it was so much fun writing Dear Mx. Machine Manners with Anrea and KalynaAnne!
Fic you were nervous to post: Ehhh I can’t remember any in particular...I think in general I get nervous posting my first fic for a new fandom, and anything for an exchange because I’m worried my recipient won’t like it.
How do you choose your titles?: Sometimes I pick a silly title for the draft document and it ends up becoming permanent (looking at you, Every Little Thing etc.) Other times I get to the end and need a title, so I either 1) look through the fic for some good line I can steal from myself, 2) look through the source material or song lyrics to find a good line I can steal from someone else, or 3) whine at my friends until someone suggests something brilliant. Once in a while I come up with a random title out of nowhere, or figure out what I want the permanent title to be before I’ve even started writing...that’s what happened with Contingency Plan, I wanted something that resembled the book titles.
Do you outline?: Not usually? Sometimes for multichapter fic I write down ideas for what will happen in future chapters (I did this for Every Little Thing etc and it helped a LOT) but usually I just wing it.
Complete: 140 on AO3...if we’re counting the ficlet collections as single, complete works, which I am because I am too lazy to count chapters right now.
In-Progress: Uhhh...let’s say three incomplete on AO3, two of which have already been mentioned I’m so sorry and an absolute mountain of WIPs that haven’t been posted yet. The other partially-posted one is Piecing Together An Imperfect Archive, which I wrote for a writing challenge in 2019 and decided to continue. I actually worked on it some this summer, maybe one day I will pick it up again. It is original work and has like NO engagement on AO3 though, so external motivation is not high.
Coming soon/not yet started: Listen I do NOT need more WIPs...the QT Bakery AU has been progressing though, slightly morphed into a cross-town road trip AU. And I was working on a sequel for Waking Up during NaNo but lack of planning got me very lost, haha. There are also some ideas lurking from the Murderbot discord, we’ll see what comes of those.
Prompts?: I will never say no to prompts, but fair warning they might languish in my inbox forever.
Upcoming work you’re most excited about: I am excited for the Bakery/Road Trip AU to be done. Does that mean I’m actually working on it?? Debatable.
Tagging: anyone who wants to do this, I never know who has or hasn’t done these already. ^_^;
#tag memes#writing#trying to be encouraged by those kudo numbers and not depressed#no two fics are the same can't compare them etc etc#mainly I'm more bothered by my inability to finish anything these days
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Currently I am working on a fic about how Christmas of ‘85, her first in a long time without Billy there, goes for Max, but my progress is going kind of slow. The goal is to have it posted by the 31st, but we’ll see.
To keep myself from getting discouraged, here are just a few more things you can expect to see from me that I’ve started and am trying to finish! (below the keep reading)
I have two five and ones going, one about Billy’s ex girlfriends and his lackluster dates versus how he treats Steve, the other is five like, sort of trials, I guess, that his conscience puts him through while he’s in a medically induced coma after Starcourt, and then what happens when he wakes up! (The second one is sort of A Christmas Carol-ish, in a way)
A powers!Billy au where he was one of the kids from the MKUltra experiments, but Terry helps his mom to escape and she takes Billy away to Cali in hopes of giving him a normal childhood. Neil moves them back to Hawkins once Billy is almost an adult, and he has to remember everything about himself! His powers are the ability to make anybody do anything he wants by giving them commands (similar to Allison from The Umbrella Academy) and he is 006!
There’s a really long and really sad fic I have going where Billy survives Starcourt, but never makes it out of the hospital and it follows Steve in his grief after he dies.
Role Swap au where Steve is a rich boy getting sent to the rural Midwest to be taught a lesson about humble beginnings, and Billy is the presiding king of Hawkins. Steve tries to dethrone him repeatedly, but it never seems to work, and things get more and more tense until they finally have a confrontation!
Soulmates AU where you have a tattoo on your wrist of your soulmates initials in their handwriting. Steve thinks that Barbara Holland is his soulmate and tries to shoot his shot with her, but then after she dies his tattoo doesn’t fade and he gets a little desperate (and heartbroken, for Barb and for himself). Cue Billy Hargrove rolling into Hawkins and Steve getting obsessed, determined not to let this one slip through his fingers like Barb! (I know that technically Billy’s initials are probably W.H. but I think that since soulmates are magic anyways it can use his preferred name over William)
A pair of fics that go together which show Billy being in Steve’s room for the first time, and Steve being in Billy’s room for the first time. (I promise it’s completely innocent, the first one is pre-slash anyways.)
A huge au where Billy is there to pick Max up instead of ditching her the day that Dart goes missin, so helps the kids look for him. This gets him dragged into the upside down stuff, because Dustin remembers that he helped look for Dart and makes him help him with the Demodogs at the junkyard. It’s basically just a rewrite of st2 if Billy had been involved, and it has a sequel that’s st3 but if Billy was in the Scoops Troop!
I have a multi-chapter that involves Steve’s hearing being severely damaged during the battle at Starcourt from all the fireworks going off and head trauma from the Russians, and he makes it a routine to go and visit Billy after his appointments with the hearing specialist are over.
A second chance sort of thing where the mindflayer counted on being defeated and basically made a backup save, hence the clones in the upside down, and Billy’s death at the battle causes the week to reset to the day he gets possessed, meaning they have another chance to stop everything before it happens. What the mindflayer does not take into account was Billy and the others remembering what happened and trying even harder to beat it! Race against the clock, angst piled upon angst, what’s not to like!
I also have some smaller stories, some are only a few chapters while others are basically just one shots, like:
A character study about baby Billy coming out to his mom
Steve has to babysit Holly on short notice and Billy helps
Some backstory behind the kissy mark on Billy’s sleeve
Billy’s pendant breaking and the meltdown that ensues
A short and not so sweet story about the consequences of Starcourt on Steve’s mental health (very depressing and triggering)
A birthday party for Billy while he’s still in the hospital, where Steve makes the kids help him to make Billy’s cake!
Observations about little quirks/mannerisms they pick up from each other after they start dating
Heather and Billy are bffs, and she encourages him to make a move on Steve while they’re on break (features some bucklway)
Steve and Robin becoming friends sooner because he gets kicked out and asks if he can stay with her. They have a sleepover type thing where they play twenty questions and be goofy!
Autistic Max who really wants a dog! (p.s, literally every time I write Max she’s going to be autistic, but most of the time I won’t mention it unless it’s relevant to the plot! This fic is very heavily focused on sensory issues+her feelings around her confusing friends and family, so it’s definitely pretty important to bring up for this one!)
Oh and I also have about 50 other wips/concepts just sitting around in my docs, but a lot of those will probably never become fully fleshed out stories.
#ejs wips#stranger things#billy hargrove#steve harrington#max mayfield#robin buckley#heather holloway#harringrove#bucklway#yeah so this is just a quick little update to make myself feel less overwhelmed by one little story#I get too excited and try to work on everything at once so this is my attempt at pacing myself#please don’t expect most of these anytime soon I only have about three of these close to finishing#but I’m working super hard!#I mean the only fic I’ve posted I wrote mostly in two nights and people liked it#so this is totally doable#no sweat
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