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middleearthpixie · 6 months

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Living Proof ~ Chapter Nineteen

Summary: When he puts himself between the Uruk-hai and Merry and Pippin, Boromir knows it means sacrificing himself. But it also means redemption for his near betrayal of Frodo and the Fellowship, and so it is a price he is more than willing to pay.

Kaia has been on her own for as long as she can remember, having escaped a terrible life in a village not far from Mordor. When she hears the sounds of battle, she knows what it means and when she ventured forth and finds a gravely wounded man lying amongst the leaves and debris, she takes him in, not knowing he is actually the son of the steward of Gondor.

Angry at himself and faced with a long road to recovery, Boromir does not make things easy on Kaia and it is only through her own sheer will that she does not give into the urge to hit him over the head with something on a daily basis. That refusal to give up brings about changes neither one of them could have foreseen. She just wanted to save him. She never thought he would save her in return…

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (AU, Boromir lives)

Pairing: Boromir x ofc Kaia

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.6k

Tag List: @sotwk @heilith @fizzyxcustard @evenstaredits@way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @emmyspov @finnofamerica @lathalea @ass-deep-in-demons @quiall321 @mistofstars @justfollowtheroad @guardianofrivendell @glassgulls @doctorwhump @kmc1989 @estethell @emrfangirl @emmanuellececchi

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

Chaos. Chaos exploded all around Minas Tirith, with the shriek and scream of the winged fell beasts that swooped along the uppermost of tier of the city. White stone shattered, raining chunks of debris from one end of the city to the other as its denizens scattered.

Soldiers ran this way and that as they raced to their stations and amidst the madness, Gandalf’s voice rang out clear. “Aim for the trolls!”

Whatever else he shouted was lost to Kaia was she followed a legion of soldiers toward the main gate, where she then stopped dead at the sight of orcs spilling over the gate and the white wizard sprang into action, scolding one of the hobbits—one she recognized as having been in the clearing at Amon Hen—for trying to fight alongside the others.

Again, his words lost as she was swept up in the battle. Ignoring the sting in her sore arm, Kaia whipped her blade about at anything that even remotely resembled an orc. But there were simply too many and it wasn’t long before she lost sight of Gandalf, of the hobbit, of the other soldiers. All that mattered was staying alive as long as she could.

Metal sang against metal, the clangs deafening and the vibration of her steel meeting that wielded by creatures twice her size made her arms and shoulders and hands ache. But it didn't matter to her, for she kept swinging. Sweat soaked her hair, her tunic, slid into her wounds to sharpen the sting further, but she ignored it. Vengeance was hers and she would take it, for her village, her family, her dog, for Faramir, for Madril, for the countless soldiers who continued to fight alongside her for their own reasons, both great and small.

But most of all, she kept swinging for Boromir.

The day wore on, and the orc army fell back to regroup. The quiet was unnerving as far as Kaia was concerned. If there was one thing she did not like, it was the eerie silence that fell before something massive happened. Good or bad, she always hated waiting. Patience was not one of her strengths and she’d much rather just do than wait.

She got her wish as the Great Gate was breached and once more, orcs flooded into Minas Tirith. The moon bathed everything in a silver wash that would have been peaceful, had it not been for the bedlam around her. She lost track of all time, of all sense of where she was and what she was doing and it was amazing that as short as her training had been, her reflexes were that of one who’d spent years honing her craft. She didn't stop to think, but simply reacted and somehow managed to keep her head firmly attached to her neck, and her limbs where they belonged. Someone watched over her and guided her. It was the only explanation she could come up with.

Fire rained from above. Orcs and trolls flooded the streets winding about the city’s tiers, slaughtering anything and everything in their path without so much as pausing. They just rushed forward like a wave of evil. Gandalf flew by, pure white speed, as he and his his horse directed the battle.

“Get the women and children out!” His voice thundered through the streets. “Retreat!”

He shouted this as he galloped off and Kaia didn't stop to see what anyone else was doing. Instead, she took off toward the apartments, to the interior buildings where Gondor’s women and children had taken shelter.

She followed two soldiers as they threw open the door and shouted, “Retreat!” before turning and running to the next chamber to repeat the order without explanation, leaving scores of upset and confused women and their equally upset and confused children.

“Come with me,” she said to the first wide-eyed woman just inside the threshold. “We need to go now. Gather the children and come with me at once!”

“Where are we going?”

“Just follow me, please. We need to leave this place right now.”

Children’s voices mingled. Babies cried. Women fretted. Kaia shifted her weight from foot to foot, trying hard to not frighten them more than they were already frightened, but she could hear the thunder, the clang, the screams coming from below, and knew they had not much time left.

Then, a low horn bleated out, sweeping from beyond the city’s walls and for a moment, she spent about, expecting to see Boromir come bounding up the cobbled road, the massive horn he’d had at Amon Hen banging against his hip.

But that was foolish, of course. He was gone. His head lay somewhere on one of Gondor’s ramparts with the others. She was on her own once more and these women needed her. Their children needed her. She was not about to let them down.

She scooped up a little girl who couldn't have been more than four years of age and cradled her in her arms as she said, “Come with me now, all of you.”

And with that, they followed her while she followed the soldiers who led them down to the farthest edges of the city, where a door led to the catacombs of the mountain Minas Tirith had been built into.

She set the little girl down as two of other soldiers went to light the scones mounted on the stone walls. As they flickered to life, one of them said, “You are to remain here until someone comes for you. Barricade the door.”

The little girl grabbed Kaia by the leg. “Please stay.”

She crouched before the girl and smoothed her tangle of blonde hair away from her face. “I cannot stay, love. But, I promise you, I will come back and fetch you once it is safe. Where is your mother?”

The little girl shook her head. “I don’t know.” She turned to look out at the women huddled all about the cave. “I don't see her.”

“I’ll keep watch over her.”

Kaia smiled a the woman standing alongside the little girl, a baby in her arms as well. “See, love? You’ll be just fine here. And when it’s safe to do so, we will find your mother. All right?”

The little girl didn't look at all convinced, even as she leaned her head against the woman next to her and nodded. “All right.”

“Everything will be fine,” Kaia told her. Then, she straightened up, touched the little girl’s cheek, and turned to follow the soldiers back out of the cave and back up to the where the fighting still raged.

But then, something happened. Another horn blew and as Kaia came atop the rampart, she stopped dead in her tracks at the faint greenish glow that lingered in the air. She heard battle, but saw only orcs falling, not what felled them.

Then, as suddenly as the battle began, it was over. She stood there, staring out at the destruction across the fields Boromir referred to as Pelennor. Bodies—orc, man, and beast—lay strewn as far as the eye could see, parts of the earth blackened and flattened from the violence that shattered everything in its path.

She swallowed hard as the breeze picked up, tugging her hair from the hasty knot into which she’d drawn it earlier. She felt grimy and exhausted, her arms and legs leaden with fatigue, and the burn in her shoulder came roaring back as the healers began moving about the ramparts, while soldiers down on the fields below went to work gathering the wounded to be brought to the houses of healing and the dead to be buried.

As far as she could see, Gondorian soldiers moved about the fields, and she wondered where Denethor had gone. Had he gone into hiding, the coward? Or had he fled and left his people to their own devices? Either way, he should burn with shame for the rest of his days for his cowardice.

Fury kinked her gut. Boromir and Faramir had both given their lives to protect Gondor, to protect its people. Their steward, however, had abandoned them when they needed him the most. The gutless coward.

Without thinking, she drew her sword with every intention of going up to the White Tower, where she would absolutely confront Denethor, should she find him. Although, why she thought he’d still be there, she didn't know, since the odds of that being true were most likely slim to none. Still, she simmered with such fury, such pure rage, that she had to vent it somehow and drawing and quartering the steward seemed like the place to start. At least, for the moment.

But that moment passed and Kaia sighed, sinking against the stone at the far end of the courtyard. She wasn’t confronting anyone. Not yet, anyhow. Exhaustion and weariness displaced any remaining fury as she really only wanted to put her head down and sleep. She felt wrung out and spent, but even so, the silence now was as eerie as the earlier silence and tired as she was, she couldn’t stand still. Re-sheathing her sword, she instead went below, to the shattered remains of the Great Gate, and out onto the still-somewhat smoking battle field. If nothing else, she could help with bringing the wounded in.

The full moon continued to bath everything in silver, only now, it offered up a peaceful glow. There was not much for her to do, as soldiers pushed her aside as they moved from body to body and in all actuality, there weren’t many wounded left. Wounded orcs met their maker while everyone else looked the other way and it was nearly midnight when all the world went still.

She stood out in the Pelennor Fields, amidst the dead who had yet to be buried or set aflame, and turned toward Minas Tirith, which was ablaze with life once more.

They didn't need her, really. She didn't belong there and without Boromir, she didn't want to be there. It didn't feel right any longer.

It was time to move on.

Boromir heard the battle long before he was near Minas Tirith, and despite the aches and pains that refused to abate, he moved faster still. It took hours on foot, and if the sound of battle made him move more swiftly, the absolute silence that followed had him running, his boots barely touching the ground as he made haste.

Thankfully, the moonlight guided him, but as he reached the edge of Pelennor Field, he stopped dead at the utter devastation that lay before him. The battle was over, Minas Tirith still stood, but he just stared at the aftermath, his gut twisting sharply.

People moved about the fields now, dragging dead orcs to be piled and burned, and as he strode along the rutted and burned field, his urge to get back into the city, to go and find Kaia, to find Faramir, to find his father, grew stronger with each step.

Although the Great Gate had been destroyed, repairs had already begun, haphazard though they might be, and something that resembled a gate had been erected in its place, although it sagged a bit and didn't quite meet up the way it should. But he didn’t pause to speak to anyone about it, nor did anyone he passed pay him any heed, either, which was suited him just fine, as it would only slow him down. Conversation would wait.

He made his way to the Citadel, where he spotted Gandalf at once in the courtyard, the whiteness of the wizard’s garb almost blinding him as he approached and said, “Where is my father? Where is Denethor?”

Gandalf turned to him and to Boromir’s surprise, didn't seem the least bit shocked to see him. “Welcome home, Boromir.”

“Thank you.” He looked about at the wide open doors leading into the White Tower, and a sense of foreboding crept over him. “Where is my father?”

“I’m afraid not,” Gandalf replied slowly, shaking his head as a look of sorrow crept over his lined and exhaust-looking face. “Come and I will explain.”

“Come where?”

“To your chamber,” the wizard replied softly.

“My—my chamber?” The kink in Boromir’s gut worsened and nausea swept through him. “What are you about? What are you not telling me.”

“I think you know the answer to that one already.”

“Oh… no…” Boromir shook his head, already starting for the tower doors. “No, he is not… he cannot be… what…”

“Come and I will tell you what happened.”

“Just tell me now.” He craned his neck to peer around the wizard. “And where is Faramir? Did his horse bring him home?”

“Faramir is here, in with Ioreth.”

“Thank the Maker…” Relief surged through Boromir with those words, although more concern crept up behind it. “And Kaia, where is she—wait, you would have no idea who she is, never mind where—”

“I most certainly do know who she is,” Gandalf broke in gently. “And she is also here. In the Houses of Healing as well.”

“What? What happened to her? Is she all right? And what of my father?”

“One thing at a time.”

Boromir tried to control his impatience as Gandalf explained what had happened, how Denethor had himself convinced he’d lost both of his sons and tried to immolate himself along with Faramir, who, of course, was not dead. Pippin was the reason why Faramir survived, while Denethor…

He squeeze his eyes shut as Gandalf explained that Denethor immolated himself and consequently flung himself off the Citadel. His throat tightened. His eyes stung.

He drew in a deep breath, exhaling as a shaky sigh. “So, when they needed him most, Denethor chose to be selfish and put himself first.”

“He thought he’d lost both of his sons, Boromir. His city was about to fall to the forces of Mordor.”

“And rather than defend it, he surrendered. No, he sacrificed it.””

“He was not in his right mind.”

“You don’t say.” Boromir rubbed his eyes. “And has Aragorn returned?”

“He has, indeed. He and Gimli and Legolas are below.”

“So the king has returned.” He managed a smile as he lowered his hand. A sense of hope stirred deep within him, one he hadn’t felt in a long time time. He would face his emotions where Denethor was concerned at a later date, when time permitted. But for now, he had hope—hope that the war might truly be over, and hope that Frodo might still destroy the Ring. “My father would be furious over it.”

“He would, indeed.” Gandalf’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. “But the true question is, are you?”

“Furious?” Boromir shook his head. “I’m not, no. I never wanted the stewardship and that has not changed. If anything, I want it even less than before.”

He turned to face Gandalf. “But I would like to see my brother. And Kaia. Why is she in the infirmary?”

“I cannot answer that. She was found down just beyond the Great Gate, or what’s left of it. She was wounded in battle, so I’d assume that had something to do with it, but I cannot say for certain.”

“Then, if you will excuse me.”

“Of course.”

They parted ways then, and Boromir’s heart hammered his ribs as he drew near the Houses of Healing, which were brightly lit and buzzing with activity despite the late hour. Ioreth and her assistants had their hands full with the wounded, and so he didn't trouble to stop and ask her where Kaia might be. He’d find her after he looked in on Faramir.

“My lord,” Eldred, one of healers, smiled as he came into the section designated for the steward and his kin, “how do you fare? Do you need Ioreth?”

As he asked, this, Eldred came up to sweep Boromir’s hair away from his forehead, squinting as he examined the cut along his hairline. “My lord?”

“I’m fine. Just a bit of a headache,” he explained. “The bleeding stopped hours ago.”

“You should have her take a look, though.”

“When she gets a chance, after she’s finished with the wounded,” Boromir told him sternly. “And not a moment before.”

“If you’re certain.”

“I am absolutely certain.” Boromir bobbed his head. “Now, if you will excuse me.”

“Of course. If you need anything, just call.”

“I will.” He moved away from Eldred and catching sight of his brother, crossed the chamber to Faramir’s bedside.

The chair he pulled over scraped louder than he’d thought it would and he winced as Faramir’s eyes slowly opened. Still, relief flooded him as those eyes slid in his direction and Faramir whispered, “Do you mind?”

“Oh, am I disturbing you?”

“I was trying to sleep, so… yes.”

“Sleep? Sleep is for the weak.” Boromir sank into the chair with a grin. “There’s work to be done, you know. The Great Gate is toothpicks and yet here you are, lying abed as if without a care in the world.”

Faramir offered up a tired smile. “So I’ve heard.” His eyes closed briefly, then slid toward him once more. “How do you fare? Last I saw, you took an axe to the shoulder and it knocked you clean off your mount.”

“So, that’s what happened,” Boromir said, glancing at the torn shoulder of his tunic. “It will leave an interesting scar.”

“As long as you’re all right.”

“Same. You were in fairly poor shape when last I saw you.”

“I do not recommend traveling from Osgiliath to here on your back. It is not a pleasant experience. Especially when you’ve been pierced by arrows.”

Boromir chuckled then. “Try being dropped and rolling down an embankment after being struck by arrows. It isn’t any more pleasant.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

He nodded. “Kaia didn't mean to do it, she was trying to help me.” His stomach began churning once more. “Do you know where she is or why she was brought in here?”

“I do not. I’m sorry.” Faramir let out a yawn. “Let me sleep, will you? Go and find your girl. I know you’d rather be with her anyway.”

“She’s far cuter than you, little brother.” He wondered if Faramir knew about what had happened with Denethor and as he rose, asked, “Did Gandalf tell you what happened?”

“With Father?” Faramir nodded. “Yes. But, I cannot think about that now. Not yet.”

“Me, neither. I just… if you didn't know…”

“I know. Go. Find Kaia. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’ll look in on you again before I retire for the night.”

“You should have Ioreth look at your head. It’s a mess.”

“I know, Eldred said the same, but she’s busy. Besides, I think it’s too late to worry about having it sewn. What’s one more scar to add to my already rugged good looks.”

Faramir burst out laughing, then promptly groaned. “Don't make me laugh. It hurts.”

“Sorry. I forgot your fragile state.”

“Yes, yes. My fragile state. Go. Find your girl. I’ll see you come morning.” Faramir sank back into the pillows.

Boromir chuckled again as he left his brother’s chambers and found Eldred once more. “There is a woman here, close to my height, with long, curly red hair. Would you happen to know where she is?”

“She is in there,” Eldred gestured toward the chambers two doors down from Faramir’s. “With another lady.”

“What happened?”

Eldred shrugged. “I cannot say, my lord. I did not see her until only a short while ago.”

“Very well. Thank you.”

Boromir turned to make his way into Kaia’s chambers, pausing in the doorway as he peered into the room. There were two beds, both occupied, and from where he stood, he couldn't tell which woman was which.

His boots thudded softly against the stone as he strode across it. The bed nearest the door was occupied by a young woman with long pale gold hair. Definitely not Kaia. Her bed was the one nearest the window.

He moved to stand alongside it, gazing down at her. Her left cheek was bruised and she bore several small scrapes on that same cheek and across her forehead. Her eyes were closed, her lashes thick black crescents against her pale cheeks. Her chest softly rose and fell and without thinking, he slipped his hand beneath hers.

Her fingers tightened gently for a moment, then relaxed. With his free hand, he stroked her hair away from her forehead, then carefully bent and brushed a kiss just above her eyebrows.

Those black crescents fluttered, then her eyes opened and she blinked up at him in confusion for a few seconds. “Boromir?”

“It’s me.”

The confusion faded as her eyes went wide. “You’re not dead.”

“Am I supposed to be?”

“Well… yes… I mean, no… I mean, I thought you were, but I didn't see your head, so I couldn't be entirely certain, but I thought you had to be. There were no survivors.”

“They did not get me.” He smiled, stroking her hair lightly. “And I’m sorry if you were worried that they had. I did get struck by an axe, though, if that matters at all.”

He showed her the ugly wound, and she flinched. “Oh, you should have someone look at that.”

“I will. I wanted to see you and Faramir before I did anything else.”

She sat up with a slight wince. “Did he tell you what happened? To your father, I mean.”

“No. Gandalf did instead.”

“I’m so sorry,” she told him, catching his hand between both of hers.

“There’s no need to be sorry,” he told her, shaking his head. “He chose the easy way out.”

“Still… it’s a loss just the same.”

“What happened to you?” he asked. “You were wounded?”

“I’m fine. Ioreth was just being extra careful.” Kaia smiled as she met his eyes. “There’s something we need to talk about, Boromir.”

The seriousness in her eyes gave him pause and his gut twisted, his mouth going dry as he knew what her next words were going to be. There was only one reason he could think of that she would declare they needed to talk and although she smiled as she said it, he didn't miss the seriousness in her voice.

“Something we need to talk about?”

She nodded.

“Is it what I think it is?”

“That depends,” she replied. “What do you think it is?”

“Kaia?” His voice emerged as a whisper, “Are you pregnant?”

She held his gaze and then slowly nodded, and for a moment, he felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. His heart sped up with that bob, black dots dancing before his eyes. He swallowed hard. “How—how far along?”

“Ioreth thinks perhaps four weeks, possibly five.”

Five weeks. The first time they were together. He didn’t know why he should be surprised, other than it was their first time, but even that shouldn’t surprise him.

And yet, he felt completely blindsided by her revelation.

“Boromir?”

“I—that is you—I mean… this is the last thing I expected to hear today,” he said softly, trying to wrap his head around the enormity of what she’d just told him.

“I know. It was the last thing I expected to hear as well.” Her fingers tightened about his hand. “And I know we’ve not talked about… well… anything, really, and I know this is a surprise. For—for both of us.”

“So you intend to go through with it?”

He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth, wincing as her eyes widened, then narrowed, and she nodded once more. “Yes. I do.”

“I… I’m sorry, Kaia, I just… you’ve caught me more off guard than anyone else has ever done before.”

“I realize that.” She slid her hands from his, folding them in her lap. “But, I didn’t think you would react this way.”

“I’m not reacting any way. I mean, how did you expect me to react? This was the last thing I thought I’d ever hear you tell me.”

“Why? I mean, I know the timing is terrible, but are you so surprised? We took no pre—” She looked about the room, then lowered her voice although the only other occupant was unconscious. “We took no precautions. It would have been but a matter of time.”

“Well, yes, but I thought you kept track of your days.”

Another mistake. Her shoulders stiffened and her eyes grew cold. “You thought I—Are you blaming me? For I am certain I did not do this alone.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I’m not blaming you. At least, no more than I’m blaming me. The timing for this is terrible, Kaia. A child… we don't even know if there is any future left for any of us, for if Frodo doesn’t destroy the Ring…”

“So, what are you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything, Kaia. I just—”

“You just want me to not go through with it?”

He shook his head. “I didn't say that.”

“You might as well have.”

“Kaia—”

“What? You should.”

He bit back a sigh, his stomach still twisting into knots like mad. “Kaia—”

“I mean, I didn't expect you to be leaping for joy over this but I didn't think you’d react this way over it.”

“Kaia—”

“Well, don’t worry then,” she snapped, all but throwing herself back onto her bed. “I will do this on my own, just as I’ve done for the last year. So, you’re free to go, Boromir.”

“If you would just let me finish a blasted sentence!” He stepped back, throwing his hands up into the air. Then, mindful of the other woman in the room, caught himself and lowered his voice to almost whisper, “How did you expect me to react to it? This has come out of nowhere for me.”

“And it hasn’t for me?” She shook her head, her voice breaking. “Very well, you needn’t worry, Boromir. I will go back to my cabin and we will be just fine.”

“Well, now you’re just being foolish. You’ll do no such thing.”

“Oh, is that so? You know what? Leave me be! I have no wish to see you any longer.”

“Fine. I’ll come back when you calm down and we can talk this over like adults.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Fine.”

He spun about and marched out of the infirmary, past Ioreth, who offered up a knowing look but said nothing, and strode out onto one of the white stone terraces ringing the outside of the Houses of Healing.

It was another moonlit night, with a cold wind winding through the city’s tiers, but he paid it no heed as he stared out toward the Anduin, sparkling like a ribbon of diamonds in the distance.

A baby.

The icy wind wove through his hair, lifting it away from his face to toss it this way and that. He leaned his hands against the stone and peered out over Minas Tirith. Fatherhood was something he’d only ever giving a passing thought to, for it was not something he ever saw for himself. After all, he’d not met any woman he wished to be the mother of his children.

At least, he hadn’t until he met Kaia.

He turned back toward the building, arms folded as a chill set in. The timing was terrible, no doubt. He had no idea where Frodo was, or if Frodo was even still alive. The battle was over, but was the war nearing its end?

War had raged around him his entire life. He couldn’t honestly imagine a world without it, a world that would be safe enough to raise a child in.

But at the same time, a child was a symbol of hope, of a future where perhaps there would be no war.

So, why was he so damn unsure then?

#Lord of the Rings #LOTR AU #Boromir #Boromir fic #LOTR fanfic #Lord of the Rings Fanfic #Fan fiction #LOTR fanfiction #AU #Boromir x OC #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Sean Bean #Everybody Lives #Sons of Gondor

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dotthings · 1 year

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For a while I did engage on twitter with the dc base for the Titans tv series, which I love, and can tell you from experience, it was predominantly non-stop complaining. Not saying the entire base is like that. The vocal part of it on twitter was LOUD and it was ceaseless. And they were in no mood to listen to anybody who understood story mechanics or wasn't neck-deep in hard grudgestanning.

The anti-GK trolling just feels like more of the same, plus add onto that, the anti-diversity trolls.

I'm a dc fan going way back, I have friends who are dc fans going way back, and we all share trepidation on trying to engage with dc fandom online.

So what the dc stans are doing to GK...eh I really wouldn't worry about it. It's a bunch of troll static and noise.

The ones acting in good faith will try it and if they dislike it, "eh, not that great" and spend their time on other dc products, or they'll wind up enjoying it. The trolls will make it a practice to be as loud-mouthed obnoxious and hateful as possible.

And first, they spread a false "rumor" that GK had been cancelled before it even aired. When that got debunked by the producers, and then GK got a premiere date, they goalpost shifted to "it'll be cancelled after a few eps." Some of them are going to yell IS IT CANCELLED YET over and over or HOW IS THIS STILL ON THE AIR.

It's petty ridiculous noise. I have no idea why dc standom got like this or how. I've seen lots of love and support there too, but...yeah. It's bad. I've seen the hate flung at dc creatives like Tom Taylor on twitter. It's bad.

And Gotham Knights walks into that arena with a huge bullseye plastered on its face because almost everything else has been cancelled due to WBD and network restructuring, and none of it is the fault of GK or its creative team or the cast. GK exists and that's enough for dc standom trolls to go after it.

I swear, if most dc content even so much as BREATHES, there's dc stan trolls who go after it.

Some are still looking for vengeance because Batgirl was pulled. Some are CW DC stans looking for vengeance because Arrowverse was ended. Some are Sn*derverse looking for vengeance because the universe didn't bend to Sn*derverse. Some are anti-diversity trolls. Some troll just for the sake of trolling.

Robin is a Black woman. One of Gotham's protectors is a trans man. It's an AU. If they'd used more famous legacied characters, they'd get yelled at and accused of getting them wrong, they didn't use famous legacied characters, they got yelled at for not using them.

As a wise man once said: SUCK IT and please hate watch to help with the streaming ratings.

#dot trolls fandom #not that fandom the other fandom

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deldeldel90 · 11 months

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cursed lance x werewolf lance au;

ok so. someone's jealous, that's the start of it all. a sickly-bitter jealousy that starts with a trophy in lance's hand and ends with a potion brewing. a potion that's not brewed by the one with the vengeance, for witches- the bad witches, the evil ladies with pale-green skin and a pointy hat, those away from society and hunted against- are something of a nightmare to be, they're kept away from the world forcibly and they don't ever seem to mind it. it's said to be a witch, is to be nasty. to be a witch, is to be a trickster with a cackle like the loudest flame of a fire.

the one who orders to potion to be brewed, is not a witch. he's just a boy. a boy who goes to the same boarding school as lance and can't stand to lose. can't stand for it to be as fair as it is, because lance isn't a cheater- he's just good at the sports he plays, no foulplay involved, and it's frustrating, because everyone wants to be an underdog, the boy included, yet... it's not possible to win against someone so grand. it's not written in the stories - the fact that sometimes, people are just better, people are just stronger. that sometimes, an idiotic, oblivious prince from one of the wealthiest kingdoms... has earned his pride. sometimes, that prince is just better than everybody else.

oh, that boy can't fucking stand it.

so. gold coins are thrown onto a table of an old witch- not one of those new ones, the witches who think they should be allowed in common areas of the peasant folk, that their kind could expand to where they'd never been permitted to go by the omniscient royalty. she, however, is content in her place. she revels in her natural wickedness, and she accepts bribes like a flower takes to sunlight.

greedily.

she demands for more. the boy is from a kingdom that's not as great as the plaid kingdom, a kingdom where children beg for bread from guards and where soap, or any other basic necessities, is a matter of if their pattern has been selling to other kingdoms. it's a barren land, without much industries to depend on.

he cannot give her more, naturally. he doesn't have many coins in general for his allowance, especially not during the school year. even if the market had turned in his kingdom's favor, he doubted he would've had the amount she was asking.

and, in that moment, fate is in the hands, compact from all the years of carving runes into stone and picking out the guts of frogs, of a wrinkly old witch.

and witches, despite the rumors, are not born with the soul of a wasp. they're not alligators or trolls or roaches. they're witches; born from generations of stirring love and hate in a pot, born from learning from their elders and dancing with their sisters. born into being unwanted, born into being helpless, powerless, despite the magic they hold.

they're cruel, mischievous, villainous, but they are not without a proper soul.

she can see the desperation in her eyes. she can hear his pleas, the uncertainty creeping into his tone as he makes promises to her. he's a boy, a hard-headed, jealous boy, at his heart, and she can see how he's fooled himself into thinking this is a scheme that'll ever work out.

she proposes a different potion, that's certainly less costly.

the boy looks at her and, for a moment, he can see past her warts and yellowed teeth.

he readily takes the opportunity, gives her half of everything he's got and doesn't ask what the potion will do. he skips along to his bedroom and dreams of a world full of golden trophies and silver medals. he dreams, and tomorrow, he gets a bottle full of an ugly brown liquid.

the witch smiles at him. he, surprising himself, smiles back.

it's during lunch that the potion is put into use, after lance had, once again, bested him at an activity he's too enraged about to recall in its entirety. he rushed to the servant's hall, and he scoped the area to find the youngest one that'll, surely, be easier to talk to.

it's a mousy maid who doesn't talk to her busy coworkers. she pulls a rag over an area that's already clean, trying to divert any eyes to her. she stumbles and looks around if anybody saw.

they meet eyes. her cheeks turn pink, and she looks away, but it's too late because fate had already decided she was in on the plan, even if she hadn't known it.

they meet in a unused classroom. she stutters her words and bows more times than she should've, but the boy is patient outwardly. there's a simmering rage inside of him, but he's not mad at her.

(and, strangely, he's not made at lance, either. just at the effect lance has on his life, on what should've been his accomplishments. but he doesn't think on that too hard.)

she, a monochrome refuge who only seems to be a few years younger than him, is hesitant. she doesn't know what she's in for- only that she's putting a potion that smells like a wet dog into a piece of lance's favorite cake.

"it's a prank," he tells her. it's not exactly a lie. "it'll wear off in a day or two, you won't get into any trouble."

he slips the other half of his gold into her palm. "trust me. you'll be okay."

"this is three times my salary back at home," she whispers, it's barely heard beneath the clatter of pots in the kitchen nearby but he hears. and a part of him understands.

a part of him wants to say he gets it, but the other recognizes that he's not here to make friends.

"so," an awkward pause, "what's your desicion?"

she falters, before feeling the gold in-between her fingers before stuffing in into her skirt's pocket, as if afraid he'll take it away. she bites her lip.

with a nod, she murmurs, "what kind of cake does he like?"

and that cake is strawberry shortcake. fluffy cream and strawberries and vanilla, it looks sweet, it looks good, from the way lance devours into it without a second thought.

the next day, there's no results, not really. in fact, he seems to have gotten faster. but in the next week, lance has begun skipping his classes. wearing more clothes, not smiling. has begun acting weird.

"like a dog," he hears someone say. he can barely contain his smile.

it's found out, sooner or later. a week goes by, and that's when it all goes to shit for the boy's future.

there's tears and arguing and lies. the boy does not tell about the witch who he got the potion from, he says the maid, who he never had an ounce of loyalty towards anyway due to the infrequently of their interactions, brewed it. he's threatened, yelled at, told he should be executed for this, told a war might start because of this.

he's crying, by the end of it. he just turned fourteen a month or two ago. he's a boy, and the fact that there's nothing his parents can do, except beg like their kingdom's children plead for the smallest piece of stale bread, hits him hard.

but, king leland just scowls at his weakness and sends him off. says this is just his only warning. says it'll be bad press if he'd actually die.

the boy is merely expelled.

that, is where the boy's story ends.

and this, in the principal's office, is where lance's begins.

he watches the other boy's parents scold him- but then, they start hugging him. they start asking why he'd do this. his dad looks terrified as he strikes up deal after deal for his son to be unharmed, his mom's pleading for forgiveness for his son's actions.

then, when they leave, lance's father just- looks at him with a gaze made out of steel. or iron. or whatever they make those strong, unbreakable swords out of.

the principal apologizes over and over and over again. it's tedious, but lance still feels bad for him. he tries to open his mouth to say it's alright, but his father puts a hand up- a hand that makes him flinch a little, but it's whatever- and they leave.

he's put in a carriage. there's an inch underneath his ear, where fuzzy, thin hair has grown. the hair's crawling up his skin, nuzzled up like fur. he waits for his father, hearing his voice far away. taking in his words.

lance sees his friends going into the courtyard, and he waves to them. some look. others pointedly don't.

he's not sure what this means. he doesn't even know what happened.

all he knows is that there's a dull stabbing to his heart and all he craves is companionship.

a pack, one might say.

#cursed princess club #cpc au #cpc lance

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morporkian-cryptid · 3 years

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Today in "Elliott's Niche AF AUs": one (1) person asked me about this, sooooo...

Lupin III Discworld AU crossover headcanon pile thingy!!!

For those who don't know: Discworld is a flat world held on the back of four giant elephants on top of a giant turtle, floating through space. That world has magic, as well as trolls, dwarves, goblins etc... but in a way that's meant to subvert typical fantasy tropes.

Ankh-Morpork, the biggest city on the Disc, is a hotbed of crime, innovations, and innovations in crime. It is run by a council of guilds, and by a Patrician (a lifelong tyrant; he's elected by the guilds but he has the final say in everything). Notorious for having an Assassins', Thieves', Beggars', and Seamstresses' (sex workers) Guilds. Also notorious for its Watch (the police), which is actually surprisingly good at solving crimes. It's also the biggest immigration destination on the Disc.

Character backstories/situations:

Lupin : half-quirmian-half-agatean (Quirm being the DW equivalent of France), grew up in the Agatean Empire (DW equivalent of China/East Asia). He moved to Ankh-Morpork to follow Fujiko, and/or to escape Zenigata. He’s an illegal thief (meaning he's not registered with the Thieves' Guild), and his favourite hobby (besides just stealing in general) is screwing with the Guild. Commander Vimes, the head of the Watch, is supposed to catch him (or at least help Zenigata catch him), but he's secretly rooting for him because he dislikes the Guild slightly more than he dislikes Lupin.

Jigen : son of a couple of Agatean immigrants in Ankh-Morpork, grew up as a street urchin in the Shades (the most crime-ridden neighborhood of the notoriously crime-ridden Ankh-Morpork). He joined the Assassins’ Guild later in his life as a (mostly self-taught) sharpshooter, with a talent that outshone that of the Guild's best students. He later quit the Guild after he met Lupin (possibly had a contract to kill Lupin, and decided “screw this I’m going with him”). He can use any kind of shooting weapons, but favors crossbows. He’s tried stealing and using the gonne (DW's first and only firearm); it didn't go well. He somehow managed to learn one single spell from the wizards, the fireball, by becoming pals with Arcchancelor Ridcully (wizard, head of the Unseen University, and famous for his unfortunate passion for crossbow shooting).

Goemon : agatean immigrant/fugitive, master swordsman. He left Agatea because Fujiko stole his Zantetsuken and fled to Ankh-Morpork, so Goemon had to follow her to retrieve his sword. He then met Lupin and Jigen and decided to stick around. The Zantetsuken is a talking sword, and its personality is basically the embodiment of Bushido. It's extremely annoying (like all talking swords), but Goemon loves it. (it was probably his only friend back in Agatea)

Fujiko : agatean immigrant/fugitive. Ran away from the Agatean Empire chased by Goemon. She joined the Thieves’ Guild, but everyone confuses her for a seamstress because her technique usually involves seduction. She tried it on Vetinari once. It failed spectacularly.

Zenigata : agatean immigrant, part of the Empire’s police force, who came to Ankh-Morpork chasing Lupin. He only brought his assistant Yata with him, and has to cooperate with the Watch to have resources to catch Lupin. Vimes doesn’t particularly like him, but he’s good at his work so he can’t say anything (they're both too stubborn to get along).

Bonus:

Yata: Zenigata’s assistant, came to Ankh-Morpork with him, rapidly became great friends with Rufus Drumknott (the Head Secretary of the Patrician, Lord Vetinari). He has a bad influence on Drumknott. He also befriended Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson, but then again Carrot befriends everyone.

Ami: She's a clacks operator. Clacks are basically the DW equivalent of telegraph. There's a group of clacks hackers called the GNU, so she might have joined them.

Albert: He's part of the Patrician's Dark Clerks (they're the secret services of Ankh-Morpork)

Rebecca: She's from Quirm. That’s all I have about her for now. (Quirm's the equivalent of France, but in the french translation it was made into an equivalent of Italy)

Random-Ass Headcanons

Lupin gets along like a house on fire with Moist von Lipwig (former conman and current postmaster, notorious adrenaline junkie), both figuratively and literally. Lupin and Lipwig sometimes team up on heists and rely on each other’s help, when they’re not busy competing against each other because Lupin keeps daring Lipwig to thieving competitions.

One of the contests’ goal is to steal Vetinari’s manuscript, The Servant. Fujiko wins. She wasn’t even in the race.

///

Fujiko quickly became friends with Adora-Belle Dearheart (Moist von Lipwig's rather explosive girlfriend), they get together every now and then to trash-talk their respective boyfriends.

///

For some reason everyone thinks Lupin is a werewolf. (it’s actually Jigen)

(maybe. I haven't yet decided whether or not he is. That would be a very good source of angst, considering what most werewolves are like, and also a very good source of domestic fluff if the whole gang has to adapt to the moon cycle and Jigen's transformations. Idk. Might be fun.)

///

Fujiko owns a horse golem (a gift from Adora-Belle or something she stole, we may never know). The Gang also owns a carriage, modified with a spell so it will drive faster, and they drive it completely carelessly. It has been destroyed and rebuilt countless times. (actually a bunch of spells, Lupin probably found a way to blackmail Ridcully so he could mod the shit out of his carriage. Or they rely on Jigen’s friendship with Ridcully)

///

Lupin uses swamp dragons as firearms (dialogue courtesy of @marquise-de-clarabas: Jigen: You stole a dragon??? Lupin: I didn’t steal him! He’s his own person and can make decisions himself! Dragon: I wanna steal). He has an alias and disguise entirely dedicated to visiting the Sunshine Sanctuary For Sick Dragons, and somehow became friends with Lady Sybil Ramkin-Vimes (Commander Vimes' wife, and the greatest expert on swamp dragons in the city, probably on the Disc). Vimes doesn't know about it, and Lupin finds the whole situation hilarious. He constantly makes jokes about how he’s playing with fire.

///

The Thieves’ Guild and the Watch are competing to catch the Gang, but secretly Vimes is rooting for the Gang (the Guild just hates them). That said, Vimes also hates Lupin (only slightly less than he dislikes the Guild), because he's always a little shit whenever he gets put in jail, and then he immediately breaks out.

///

Rincewind (famously bad wizard with a shit luck and a tendency to run from problems) once got arrested by Zenigata, because he got startled by him yelling LUPAAAAAAAAAN! and started running for the hills, making Zenigata believe he was Lupin in disguise. Rincewind is terrified of Zenigata.

///

Zenigata is actively trying to stop the Thieves' Guild from catching Lupin and Co, both because he wants to catch them himself, and because he knows what the Guild does to illegal thieves and he doesn’t want it to happen to Lupin.

///

Lupin stole Ridcully’s hat (custom wizard hat with a bunch of pockets, drawers, a crossbow, and a tiny flask of alcohol) as a gift for Jigen’s birthday. He also stole Lipwig’s hat (golden cap with dove wings), after which Adora claimed she didn’t recognize Moist (dialogue courtesy of @marquise-de-clarabas: Moist: C’mon babe, it’s me, your boyfriend! Adora, knowing full well who he is: I have never met this man in my entire life). He also raided the Assassins' Guild's armory/museum to get a birthday gift for Goemon.

///

About Jigen and the gonne (spoilers for Men at Arms) : basically, the gonne being such a dangerous and destructive weapon compared to crossbows, it has a nigh-magical attraction on people, and awakens and strengthens whatever lust for power, vengeance, blood etc they have. It basically controls its user and feeds on their convictions, addictions, wants, etc. The only person known to have resisted it is Vimes (because he's a stubborn mofo with a sense of morals you could bend iron on), and even he came damn near to losing his mind. (And Carrot, because... he's Carrot.)

Assuming the gonne didn't get destroyed in this AU: after they steal it, Lupin tries to use it, gets completely possessed/cursed (again) and accidentally tries to murder his friends (again), prompting Jigen to take it from him. Jigen then gets possessed as well, and they start fighting for the gonne, until Goemon just walks in, takes it out of their hands and takes it away. Goemon's completely unaffected by the gonne because 1) of his ascetic training and 2) "it is a filthy morporkian artifact and cannot compare to the noble art of the sword."

///

Zenigata often teams up with Angua (resident werewolf of the Watch), they get along very well. The Gang is very easy to track, they smell like a tobacco factory that has caught on fire.

///

Yata and Drumknott (Patrician's head secretary, and confidante, sort of) get together after office hours, and argue about whose boss is the best (because as we all know they both have a crush on respective bosses). One day Drumknott accidentally calls Vetinari “Sempai” after he heard Yata call Zenigata that all the time.

///

Lupin follows Lipwig’s example and steals all of Yata’s pencils every time he visits the Pseudopolis Yard (the Watch's HQ). Drumknott is fuming when Yata tells him about it.

///

Leonardo Da Quirm is butt-naked, because Part 4.

///

Something with vampires, probably.

///

tagging @carriagelamp and @mad-whoman-with-a-book00 because I know you may be potentially interested in this AU ^^

#lupin iii #lupin the third #discworld #ankh-morpork #terry pratchett #lupin iii discworld au #already making a tag in case i make more posts; you never know #the hobbit's headcanons

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heartfall-syndrome · 2 months

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so yeah, Barb didn't have Trollex so she went for the next best option

(also the tattoo stayed)

#art #digital art #artists on tumblr #clip studio art #clip studio paint #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls au #vengeance au #trolls vengeance au #trollstopia synth #trolls synth #synth trolls #rock zombie synth

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lilydalexf · 3 years

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with MustangSally

MustangSally has 33 stories at Gossamer. Even if you haven’t read it, you’ve probably heard of at least one of them, Iolokus, since it’s an X-Files fanfic classic. All her fics hit big and are well worth your time. I’ve recced some of my favorites here before, including And Dance by the Light of the Moon, All the Children are Insane, and Iolokus. Big thanks to MustangSally for doing this interview.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I could tell you but then I would have to kill you.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Yes and no. Yes, because life has moved on since the early nineties and the characters and the fans are in vastly different places now. Our current tech would make the premise of the X-Files impossible. No, because of the longevity of some of the Star Trek TOS work (there’s an archive of hard copy fanzines at the University of Iowa). Top-drawer authors started out in TOS fandom.

I’m just greatly saddened that my physical body is showing wear and tear while the fic doesn’t. Fic gets to stay smooth-skinned and muscular, captured at the peak of perfection.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

At the risk of sounding atrociously trite, I think of the friends I made. I met some very remarkable women that I’ve been able to stay friends with online for over twenty-five years. We may have moved to Facebook and post entirely too much about our pets and which of our body parts has sagged this week, but we’re friends. It’s a furiously funny, feminist, and well-educated group of women with jobs in the highest levels of academia, finance, communications, and media. I’m amused by the fact that if I have a question about how a virus replicates, I can ask a PhD I’ve been drunk with in Las Vegas.

Back in the day, I had a job that sent me traveling around major cities in the US and UK. I could post on a message board and within ten minutes there were people I could go out for dinner and drinks with. We already knew we had something we could talk about for at least a couple of hours. Additionally, most of these people were women so there was an added level of security. Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Well, it was mostly atxc and the Yahoo! groups mailing lists that spiraled out into Geocities sites and, eventually, LiveJournal. The amusing thing is that getting in on the ground floor of social media and the Internet has helped me get jobs! When I look at a new piece of software, I think, ‘this is hella easier than uploading to Geocities.’ We had to walk uphill both ways, in the snow, on dial-up, fighting off dinosaurs with our AOL CDs while writing HTML code. What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

DO NOT FEED THE TROLLS.

The past four years in politics have basically been the ugliest online kerfuffle the world has ever seen. I survived the Shipper Wars of ’96 and I thought those were brutal, but that was NOTHING. The only way to win an argument online is to not have the argument at all. Arguing with a troll is like mudwrestling a pig: You both get filthy and only the pig is happy.

Also, READ THE FUCKING TERMS OF SERVICE.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had the most terrible straight-girl crush on Scully. I wanted to be her best friend, I wanted to BE her. I wanted to order Chinese food and paint each other’s nails and talk about bones. Scully and Princess Leia and I could all just hang out poolside with hot and cold running waiters and poolboys, drink margaritas, and bitch about how unfair it all was – if the stupid men would just get OUT OF THE WAY AND LET US DO OUR JOBS, the world would be so much better. What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

This question is really about Iolokus, isn’t it? You can’t fool me. [Lilydale note: I can neither confirm nor deny the motivation for this question, but I cannot complain about the answer.]

Simply put, I was enraged. The moment it was revealed that Scully’s ova had been used in experimentation, I lost my feminist mind. It was the most obscene defilement imaginable. Scully wasn’t nearly as angry as I was. What I thought needed to happen was for Scully to become a fiery force of vengeance against the MEN who had done this to her. Clearly, I was not going to get that level of satisfaction from the show, as I was imagining Kali-like carnage on a global scale. I emailed RivkaT (whom I did not know well at that point) with a proposition that we work together. Strangely enough, we didn’t meet face to face until we were well into the project, but we did talk on the phone quite a bit. The rules were simple – everyone had to be punished in truly horrific ways, and at some point, we had to see if we could write a car chase (only because that seemed impossible). Then it basically turned into a very twisted game of chicken to see who could be the most outrageous in terms of killing people off or writing really horrific things that fit within the structure of the narrative. I did, in the end, write the car chase, but RivkaT one-upped me by throwing in a helicopter (a FOX News helicopter, at that).

Really, RivkaT? A helicopter? What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? I am terribly proud of what I wrote, pleased that it brought pain and pleasure in equal amount to people, and, again, thrilled by the people I became friends with. I admit that I stopped watching the show when Scully announced her pregnancy. I could only see a long jump over a shark tank for the rest of the series. I haven’t watched the new episodes, either. It is complete in my mind and doesn’t need to be continued. I wouldn’t say no to having a reunion with some of my fic friends, although we’re still chatting online like everyone does. Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Rivka and I wrote in the Buffy fandom for a few years, but then we moved on to real adult jobs that left absolutely no time for me to write. I’m in education, and I regularly sweat blood for fear that someone is going to find my old fic. The Buffy people were fun; there was a certain *shininess* to them that I really enjoyed. The X-men authors were just batshit and delightful, and some amazing stuff came out of Marvel fandom, particularly in the Thor/Loki and Steve/Bucky subgenres. I’ve learned to appreciate a good coffee shop AU and one famous Erik/Charles fic where all the main characters are crabs. Seriously, crabs—it’s hysterical. [Lilydale note: Other Crabs Cannot Be Trusted by groovyphilia currently has almost 2,500 kudos at AO3.]

Every few years, I’ll have a student try to explain to me what fandom is and I just smirk. Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully? No. Not really. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I fell into an X-Men hole a few years back and had a great old time wallowing in the Cherik muck, and there was a flirtation with BBC Sherlock as well. Strangely enough, I became interested in A/B/O fics only because of what they were saying about the role of women in our society. The limitations on the male omegas seem absurd and then you realize those are the same limitations put on women all. the. time.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

RivkaT very nicely formatted everything and put it up on AO3. What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I will always be stupidly proud of how shocked and horrified people were by Iolokus. The truth of the matter is that Iolokus has Greek drama at its core. Scully is Medea, and the entire story is lousy with “blood on the threshing floor” and Dionysian rites. The everyday is subverted into horror, and wives and daughters will tear men limb from limb like the Maenads. Since I was ultimately disappointed with what Chris Carter did with the entire show, that approach seemed appropriate.

At a certain level, all fic is corrective fic. Like critic Anne Jamison said, “Irritated fans produce fanfic like irritated oysters produce pearls.” And because fic has fallen so much into women’s sphere, a pure form of correction is not just the death of the author but the MURDER, a new creation springing up from the spilled blood like Cadmus sowing dragon’s teeth.

Okay, that’s a bit much. Maybe I should just take myself back to the isle of Goth Amazons or something. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I had to write a self-evaluation and a reflection on pedagogy today. If that’s not fiction, I don’t know what the fuck is.

All my creativity is caught up in trying to pretend to be a normal middle-aged white woman so no one knows I am really a lizard.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Keep writing, keep reading, keep fighting the commercialization of narratives. As things grow more and more commodified, all our dreams and desires reduced to tchotchkes made in China, it’s a revolutionary act to separate your work from the marketplace. Be bold, take chances, turn the trope on its ear and kick it in the ass. Take everything the creators have done to make a work palatable to the unwashed masses and set it on fire.

Be subversive.

Be mean.

Have a great fucking time.

(Posted by Lilydale on March 2, 2021)

#old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #mustangsally

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jaimebluesq · 3 years

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Untamed Fanfic - Completed and WIPs

I love talking about my fics way too much so please feel free to PM me or send me an Ask about any of them, whether completed, WIP, or just an idea in the works.

Update Completed Nov 14th/2021

COMPLETED FICS & Online WIPs

GEN:

A Laugh After Mourning - Nie Mingjue's first visit to Lotus Pier as sect leader, and Nie Huaisang is sad and shy his first ever visit there. Wei Wuxian makes things better.

The cat had found herself a new pet - Nie Huaisang awakes to chaos in his aviary and has to chase the suspect.

His Favourite Client - Modern Day AU - After years spent apprenticing at a tattoo parlour, Nie Huaisang gets to work on his most important client yet.

Think Outside the Shell - (aka the story that started the Nie Sect Murder Tortoises - the rest of the series is SangYao, but the first is Gen)- As the Tortoise of Slaughter erupts from the water, Jiang Cheng witnesses an insane sight... Just as the Tortoise's mouth was about to reach Nie Huaisang's head, the young man snapped his fan shut and used it to smack it on the nose. “Bad Xuanwu!” The beast's head pulled back slightly, looking just as confused as Jiang Cheng felt.

Nothing Mutt-ers as Much as You - Jin Ling can't find his uncle the morning after an injury night hunting, but finds him in a most adorable situation.

Mercy - (Warning for mention of past child sexual abuse) - When Nie Huaisang is invited to the Jin retreat to catch up with Jin Guangyao, he wonders if the man will try to kill him. Instead, he is given a gift that shakes his entire world, and changes the course of his plans for vengeance. (This one was quite emotional to write, these two characters are just so heartbreaking)

SangCheng (Nie Huaisang/Jiang Cheng)

A Lecture on Camp Security - Sangcheng Drabble - An ill-disguised 'saber talk' is delivered over breakfast with the Nie Sect Officers (guest starring troll-LWJ)

Till the Love Runs Out - Sangcheng Soulmate AU - There is a curse on the main bloodline of the Nie clan where, upon reaching a certain level of cultivation, the curse is activated, making everyone love the cursed one - except for their soulmate, in whom their love dies until they are driven to kill the source of their hatred. Wei Wuxian doesn't really believe it, though. After all, his friend Nie Huaisang is really quite extraordinary, that's surely the reason why he's so loved, isn't it? But when his friend reveals the curse to him, he wants to help him no matter what. Who wouldn't want to help such a wonderful friend? Now to find this mysterious soulmate...

Sequel WIP - I'll be your light, your match, your burning sun - After the events of "Till the Love Runs Out", Wei Wuxian finally gets Nie Huaisang drunk enough to tell him the story of how he and Jiang Cheng got together and managed not to tell anyone about it until after Wei Wuxian's return.

Portraits of the Aftermath Series: a 6 story arc taking place after the death of JGY, and how the recent events have affected various sects and beloved characters (with a few OCs in the mix) - SangCheng is past and future in the stories, but not yet significantly portrayed - still classifying it here.

Portraits of Qinghe – Wine, Festivals, and Song - “While travelling through Qinghe and partaking in its yearly festival, Wei Wuxian decides to give his friendship with Nie Huaisang another try.”

Portraits of Yunmeng – Birds, Lotuses, and Turnips - “ Following a cryptic clue from Nie Huaisang, Wei Wuxian takes Wen Ning and Lan Sizhui to an unknown lake in Yunmeng where they discover that Jiang Cheng once attempted the impossible... and succeeded.”

Trouble is My Business - Prohibition Era AU - San Francisco, USA - Chinatown. It's hard to run a business when your main product is illegal, but Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao, and Wei Wuxian don't mind the extra precautions needed to make Laozu's Den a success. But when their musical act cancels at the last minute, they need to find a replacement, which wouldn't be a problem except now Huaisang has to figure out how to do his job while being constantly distracted by the looker on the stage.

SangYao (Nie Huaisang/Jin Guangyao | Meng Yao)

And the rise to the top is the fall from below - SanyaoSoulmate AU - Nie Huaisang doesn’t know Jin Guangyao is his soulmate until he tries to avenge his brother because soulmates cannot kill each other.

Sweet Words Whispered in my Ear - Meng Yao wants to get ahead in the Nie Sect and decides to try befriending Nie Huaisang - only to discover the boy is attracted to him. He decides it's an opportunity he can't refuse... but who is really in control?

The Nie Sect Murder Tortoises Series (While the1st story is Gen, the rest has SangYao content) - This was fun as hell to write, and gives me an excuse to look up shell-related puns, it’s a win-win!

Think Outside the Shell - As the Tortoise of Slaughter erupts from the water, Jiang Cheng witnesses an insane sight... Just as the Tortoise's mouth was about to reach Nie Huaisang's head, the young man snapped his fan shut and used it to smack it on the nose. “Bad Xuanwu!” The beast's head pulled back slightly, looking just as confused as Jiang Cheng felt.

My Shell or Yours? - While on the road with an injured Lan Xichen, Meng Yao is saved from a group of bandits by Nie Huaisang... riding a XUANWU. How did he get into these situations?

Wrong Shell, Wrong Time - Nie Mingjue faces against three fools, trying to find out how exactly Jin Guangshan came to be eaten by a xuanwu on Qinghe soil and whether this will cause an inter-sect conflict. He's going to need a really stiff drink.

SangHui (Nie Huaisang/Nie Zonghui)

The Fragile, Scarlet Tree - WIP - A cultivator conference is rocked by the news that Nie Huaisang is actually the son of Jiang Fengmian.

I'll Carry Your Load - 5 Times Nie Zonghui carried Nie Huaisang's Saber (and 1+1 time Huaisang did the carrying). Love is carrying your beloved's saber (how very Nie).

This is why I'll always come back to you - During the Sunshot Campaign, the Nie are stuck in camps, homeless as they try to plan how to take back their home. Nie Huaisang can no longer wait until the war is over to kiss his lover again and decides he needs to grab an opportunity to be together, afraid each battle might be their last. Of course in a crowded camp, there's no privacy to be had... unless one is willing to risk the threat of discovery.

The Man Behind the Mask - (listed as under Anonymous, was default setting when answering a prompt to the Kink Meme challenges) - Nie Mingjue catches his brother unawares in a moment of insecurity and tries his best to comfort and understand him, and is reminded how at times they really are vastly different people.

Nie Huaisang /Multiple - (either multiple encounters/partners in the story, or a poly situation - will specify in description)

The Three of Us in the Dark - WIP - NHS/Nie Zonghui, NHS/Jiang Yanli, NHS/NZH/JYL - Nie Huaisang returns home from Cloud Recesses to find a party from Yunmeng Jiang already there and in talks with Nie Mingjue to form an alliance that would be cemented by his marriage to Jiang Yanli. The Alliance would give them the edge they all need over the Wen, and it's something he can't refuse outright. He plans to find a way out of the arrangement - his heart already belongs to another, loyal and dutiful Nie Zonghui whom he has loved in the shadows for fear of how their relationship might be received. After much heartbreak, guilt, war, and love, Nie Huaisang will find a way to uphold both his duties to his brother and sect and those to his heart.

They Get Around - NHS/Multiple dates, Mianmian/Multiple dates - Nie Huaisang and his friend Mianmian have been having a terrible time getting out of a slump in their love lives, so they decide to help each other out by setting each other up on dates. It doesn't always go as planned. (This is a favourite of mine! An experiment in storytelling from a mostly dialogue perspective, and I playfully poke fun at many of my favourite NHS ships - the title is because I couldn’t get the Beach Boys’ “I get around” out of my head and I thought it fits)

Nie Huaisang/Others - (Some are OCs, at least one other isn’t but is left a surprise until the very end)

A Night at the Purple Peony - NHS/Surprise Canon Male - There is a place in the mundane world where men of certain proclivities can go to meet one another in safety. Nie Huaisang visits for the first time and sets his sights on a masked stranger - and when he sets his mind to work toward something, he succeeds. But who is this masked stranger? (This was my first smutty romp in years in terms of writing, had a blast! And I think I low-key ship this pair now.)

What is Remembered in the Darkest Night? - NHS/Original Male - “Days before a push in the Sunshot campaign, Nie Mingjue makes a request of his newest general. Along with other junior disciples, Huaisang will be brought along for the traditional pre-battle visit to a local brothel.“ (Another special one for me, and proof you can write a story taking place at a brothel with little to no smut - if only every baby gay could have the same awakening.)

Winning the Game - NHS/Original Male - In The Untamed, Nie Huaisang passes out at the Qishan Indoctrination Camp while his fellow disciples are taken to fight the tortois of slaughter. What happens when Wen Chao returns to tell him his friends are dead, he is the last hostage alive, and he is about to be used as a pawn to get his brother to hand over Qinghe?

Others/Others (aka you mean I actually wrote about someone other than Nie Huaisang?!)

I Will Never be Satisfied - Yu Ziyuan/Multiple (Gangbang) - Miserable in her home life, Yu Ziyuan longs to feel alive again. She speaks to an unlikely friend who arranges something special for her, which is why she is blindfolded and veiled in a room with several men. For once in her life, she is *almost* satisfied.

WORKS IN PROGRESS - Not online

These are the fics I have in the works, please feel free to message me with questions/comments or even story ideas, am always looking for plot bunnies.

Portraits of the Aftermath Series:

Gusu (Lan Qiren tries to help his nephews, a quartet of female juniors discover the legacy of the Gusu Trio, WWX returns to Lan Zhan, and NHS comes to force Lan Xichen out of his seclusion)

Lanling (rotating POVs between Jin Ling, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingi, and Ouyang Zizhen, Cultivator’s Conference with scandals and intrigue)

Miscellaneous (Back to Qinghe for Nie Huaisang’s wedding to Ouyang Xiwei. Romances begin, hearts and broken, and Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian learn the truth about Mo Xuanyu)

New Additions (entirely from the POV of Nie Huaisang, a series of vignettes about his life after marriage - the births of his two children, his turn as Chief Cultivator, and how he eventually goes back to the work of living again, and maybe allowing himself to be truly happy with the one he’d pushed away)

Word of Honor Crossover: Hello, fan-boys unite! Wen Kexing is searching for a text in the cultivator world of the north and reaches Qinghe a month after the death of Nie Mingjue. He finds himself caught in the politics of sect leadership when he saves Nie Huaisang from a group of assassins.

Untitled Sangcheng Cultivation World Conspiracy Fic: This one’s taking lots of planning but I hope it will turn out sooo goood. No spoilers!

3Zun & NHS Bodyswap Shenanigans - will be a response to a prompt in the MDZS Kink Meme where Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang, Lan Xichen, and Jin Guangyao wake up one morning in each other’s bodies.

Cherry Magic AU - SangCheng - NHS is still a virgin when he hits 30 and wakes up with the ability to read people’s minds when he touches them, and he immediately realizes how it can help him get his revenge against Jin Guangyao. He’s not the only one, however - the same thing has happened to JC. They discover they’re in the same boat and fall in love along the way.

Mothers United - Okay, this is just a silly placeholder name - the concept is that Madame Yu, Madame Jin, Madame Lan, and Concubine Nie all knew each other when they were younger and became sworn sisters, before all of their lives went in different directions. There will be a significant role for Zhao Zhuliu as well. This is still in the planning stages only.

If the World Was Ending - Post-Sangcheng, Lovers to Friends - They realized young that a relationship between them wouldn’t work, but that didn’t stop them from still loving each other. When their worlds end, the other is always there for them.

Imperfect Perfect Dream State - NHS wakes up to find he’s had an accident that’s affected memory, that must be why it feels strange that his brother, their father and their mothers are all alive, and why he has a sister-in-law, niece and nephew that he doesn’t remember. Oh, and he’s sworn brothers with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, who each have their own families. Everything feels happy and wonderful, except for the presence of Jin Zixun who seems intent on tellng him that none of it is real.

Nie Post-Indoctrination Reunion - After escaping the Qishan Indoctrination Camp, NHS is reunited with his brother.

Tortoise 4 - 4th installment of the Nie Sect Murder Tortoises series - this time with Mo Xuanyu and Xue Yang being sent as ‘volunteers’ to help with the impending hatching of the xuanwu eggs - with a healthy dose of Xuanyu/xuanwu name confusion ;)

Many, many others - damn brain!

If you have any comments on existing fics, want to send encouragement for works in progress, or have plot bunnies you’d like to send my way, please feel free to poke me!

#The Untamed #Nie Huaisang #Jiang Cheng #Word of Honor #Wen Kexing #Fanfic #Works in Progress #Completed Fic #Nie Zonghui #Meng Yao #Jin Guangyao #nie sect murder tortoises

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