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averyisnotpresent · 5 months ago

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DISCLOSURE chapter one

୨ৎ in which: azzi fudd attends usa u16 tryouts and meets paige bueckers: the charismatic, competitive, and quick-witted star of the group. the two click instantly and stay friends despite their many years apart. but what happens when they reconnect to play together once more and find that their playful bantering might be something more than that?

୨ৎ warnings: mentions of divorce, light swearing

୨ৎ wc: 4k

୨ৎ avery's note: have had this sitting in the drafts for a while and decided to post with the sadness of the tiktok ban lol. please please please leave suggestions or requests for this story, i will try to use/be inspired by all requests!! | edit: this was originally meant to be a series... it is now discontinued until further notice. thanks for understanding! | my masterlist

flashback july 2017

Azzi’s heart pounds in her little 14 year old chest as she ties the laces on her basketball shoes and pulls a practice jersey over her curly hair. The quiet of the basketball gym feels more intimidating than if it had been loud, the silence sending a chill through the air.

Azzi fidgets with the curls loose at the bottom of her french braids as the coaches of the U16 USA team start to pair her and the other girls trying out into duos for shooting drills. Her heart continues to pound as the brunette coach, Carla, in front of her reads out the two names “Azzi Fudd and Paige Bueckers” off of her clipboard.

Azzi removes her focus from the ends of her hair to the gaggle of girls encircling her, searching for the blonde whose presence can’t be ignored considering how well known she is in the basketball world, even at 15. After making her way around the misshaped clump, she finds Paige and her piercing blue eyes, seemingly doing the same thing she is. Paige flashes her a small side side, the words ‘I’m nervous too’ conveyed through the small gesture.

After listening to Carla finish her list of pairs, Azzi slowly makes her way over to Paige, who gets taller by each passing step. Azzi is one of the very few rising sophomores trying out, and while it might be the nerves of the tryouts, everyone seems to tower over her frame.

Azzi meets Paige at one of the many basketball hoops around the vast gym, opting for the one not too close to the coaches and their sharp eyes. Despite Paige’s calm and collected front, her heart matches Azzi’s in tempo, her nerves not any more calmed than the brunette’s.

“You’re Azzi?” Paige points at the curly head to clarify, the basketball she had been dribbling slipped under her elbow. Azzi nods and smiles, flashing Paige her trademark dimples sunken deep into her cheeks. Paige’s cheeks slightly flush at the grin from the younger girl, swiftly grabbing the basketball from under her arm and passing it to Azzi.

“You wanna shoot first, freshie?” Paige teases, already making her way under the net to catch Azzi’s rebounds. Paige, like most of the updated world, knew of Azzi’s sharp shooting skills, especially from behind the three point line. She can’t help but be slightly intimidated by the brunette, and also slightly embarrassed by the fact that she might lose a spot to someone a year younger than her.

“I’ll be a sophomore in around two months, for your information.” Azzi argues back, fighting a grin from her face. “But yeah, I’ll shoot.”

Azzi starts on the left corner, dribbling once before letting the orange ball fly from her fingertips, swishing through the hoop effortlessly. Paige quickly grabs the rebound and passes the ball back to Azzi, who’s moved to a spot between the corner and the high point of the arc. She once more shoots effortlessly, making another three. She continues on the other three spots, making all but the final one. She moves a foot or two closer to midrange, where she makes all five shots like it’s the easiest thing she’s attempted. Finally she moves even closer to the hoop and shoots four layups, missing both on the left and making the two on the right.

“Not bad.” Paige’s lips curl into a wonky line, as if she’s trying to hide her look of awe towards her shooting partner. “Not sure if I can beat you on those midranges.”

“Let’s see it.” Azzi nods, high fiving Paige after switching spots with her and getting comfortable under the net. Paige repeats the same drill as Azzi, making three of the perimeter shots, all of the midranges, and all four layups. Paige makes the final layup and lets her mouth grow into a prideful smirk.

“Can’t beat you on the threes, but I crushed you on the layups.” Paige jokes, switching positions once more while Azzi begins her walk to the corner. Paige watches in partial disbelief as Azzi makes all of her threes, all of the midranges, but still misses both of the left side layups.

“You’re hesitating.” Paige blurts as Azzi misses the final shot.

“Hmm?” Azzi gets closer to the blonde, wanting to hear her corrections.

“You seem confident on the right, but start to second guess yourself on the left. Your legs get tangled beneath you ‘cuz you’re pausing. Your legs pop off at the right time, but your hips turn too late.” Azzi looks at Paige with pure confusion, her head lolling to the side as she tries to imagine how her layups look.

“Here, go for a layup.” Paige offers, noticing the skepticism from Azzi. Azzi walks back a few steps back from the hoop as Paige positions herself still close to the net, but more on the outside. Azzi runs forward with the ball, dribbling once and pressing her legs into the ground. As she begins to lift, Paige quickly shoots out her hand to Azzi’s left hip, pushing it closer to the right side, turning her body. The ball goes in without rolling around, just a clean swish.

Azzi comes down from her shot in shambles, both shocked at how easily Paige was able to fix her mistake, but slightly discombobulated from the touch from the taller girl.

“Do you feel the difference when your hips go with the right timing?” Paige asks casually, chasing after the rolling ball on the squeaky gym floor. Azzi watches intently as the blonde runs after the ball, her thin frame moving with urgency and her body glistening with a thin layer of excursion.

Still slightly off guard, Azzi manages a “yeah, that felt a lot better” back, earning her a genuine smile from the blonde.

“Now if you can tell me how to make a three 90% of the time, that’d be greatly appreciated.” Paige jokes before walking to the corner and restarting the drill.

As tryouts continue, Azzi and Paige grow to be fast friends, quick to find each other during water breaks and quiet moments. Any drill done in pairs of two, the girls practically run to each other and the hoop that they’ve claimed ‘their own’.

Once the day concludes, the sweaty group of girls run like wild animals to the locker rooms and showers. All of the basketball players rapidly rid themselves of their sticky practice jerseys and start trying to call dibs on who gets to shower first.

Aliyah Boston, one of the oldest of the group, stands up from one of the locker room benches to declare that seniority determines showering order. After a long debate of when people’s birthdays are, five girls head to the showers. Azzi, the runt of the group grabs her phone from her bag, knowing she’ll likely be waiting for a while before she gets to cleanse herself of the day.

Paige, who has now stripped herself of her jersey and undershirt, leaving her in a Nike sports bra, finds her way over to Azzi’s bench, sitting down next to the brunette who seems to be busied with texting. “Zia, Sam, and Aliyah are all gonna take their sweet time.” Paige starts, finally getting the attention of Azzi.

“Didn’t you guys just agree that you’re the fifth oldest here? Why aren’t you showering?” Azzi ponders aloud, setting her phone back into her bag and turning her full focus towards Paige.

“Yeah, but I ‘on want you to be waiting out here with no one to talk to. Plus, I know nothing about you besides your insane three point percentage.” Paige jokes, trying to break the awkwardness. She can tell Azzi is surprised by her gesture, but slightly amused, and definitely not opposed.

“What do you wanna know? I’m an open book, Bueckers.” Azzi claims, leaning back into her seat and letting her legs spread a little, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Paige. Paige feels the barely visible hairs on the skin covering her abs stand up, the curly head making her unintentionally shiver a little.

“What do you do when you’re not dropping 50 on your opponents?” Paige offers as a starting question, racking her brain for easy questions to ask.

“I don’t know, basketball’s kinda my life. I like to read, I guess. I just finished the last book of ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty’”. Azzi begins, “and I have two pretty crazy brothers, so I can always count on them for some entertainment.” Paige chuckles lightly at Azzi’s joke, her herself knowing how much work siblings can be. “What about you?”

“You saying that has made me realize that I don’t think I’ve even picked up a book in like three years.” Paige jokes, trying to remember when the last time she read a book was.

“What about books for school? Do they not make you read for English?” Azzi inquires, interested, but not surprised that Paige isn’t a reader.

“Spark Notes is my best friend.” Paige shrugs. “Freshman year when we read ‘Outsiders’ I never even picked up my copy.”

“And how well did you do in that class?” Azzi teases, either ignoring or just not hearing the buzzing of her phone in her bag. She’s committed to focusing on her conversation with Paige.

“I ended with an A- thank you very much. But I get the brothers thing. My brother Drew is only two and he takes up all of my dad’s time.”

“Not your mom’s?” Azzi asks curiously.

“Child of divorce.” Paige nods, feeling the sympathy smile on Azzi’s face emerging before it even begins to form. “I was pretty young, but they both remarried and are happy. No need for the awkward conversation you were about to start.” Paige laughs quietly at her own joke, silence quickly filling her and Azzi’s questionnaire.

“You’re the oldest, then?”

Paige nods before beginning her explanation. As Paige starts to describe her familial situation, the details seem to fade into the background of Azzi’s comprehension level as she drinks in the picture of the blonde in front of her. Her soft ab lines pop out in between the black sports bra and navy basketball shorts she’s wearing. She looks disheveled, but in a good way, and in a way that Azzi can’t help but admit is attractive.

The way she talks so naturally with someone she only met a few hours ago seems like second nature to Paige, an air of nonchalance and coolness glazing over her. Azzi can tell by the way Paige talks that she’s confident in herself, in her playing ability and her charm, but not in a bothersome way. In the way that makes you want to get to know her more and listen intently: which Azzi is not doing. She’s distracted by the way Paige is leaned against the painted brick wall, her legs spread wide and carefree.

Paige, after a few sentences of her story, notices Azzi’s lack of attention and interrupts herself. “You good there, freshie?” Paige asks, swallowing the mischievous smile that wants to appear on her face, flattered by the way Azzi is sizing her up and down.

Azzi swallows hard and diverts her gaze from Paige’s legs back up to her face. Her attempt to focus fails once more as she begins to melt into Paige’s soft, yet sharp blue eyes. They stare deep into Azzi’s brown ones, as if she’s truly and wholly interested in their conversation and what Azzi has to say.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, what were you saying?” Azzi asks, not even trying to cover her lack of perceptiveness of their exchange.

“Nothing important, just family stuff. You’re from Virginia right?” Paige begins, shifting the conversation topic to something that Azzi would have to participate in.

“Yeah,” Azzi starts, slightly surprised that Paige knows that. “Who told you that?”

“Instagram.” Paige admits, a shy smile creeping on her face and her confidence seeming to dim. “I might’ve gone on a little stalking spree in the car ride here.”

“It’s okay, so did I. I could probably tell you everyone’s hometown off the top of my head right now.”

“Are you challenging me right now, freshie?” Paige taunts, half joking and half serious.

“Hmm,” Azzi hums, “sounds like I am.”

Paige chuckles, searching the room for a player she thinks could stump Azzi. “Caitlin.”

“Easy.” Azzi scoffs. “West Des Moines, Iowa.” She pauses, thinking of a name she could give Paige. “Where’s Kylee from?”

“Linwood, New Jersey. Gotta scope out my competition within the fake blondes.” Paige shrugs, eliciting a loud laugh from Azzi. “There’s no way you’re getting this one. Celeste.”

“Funny you think I’d forget, she’s from Elmont, New York.”

Paige pumps her arm into the air, cheering quietly as to not disturb those in the locker room also waiting for the showers. “Valley Stream.” Paige corrects.

“No way, I know I’m right.” Azzi argues, determined to not lose their made up game.

“Celeste!” Paige calls to the dark haired girl from across the room, trying to grab her attention.

“What’s up?” Celeste cranes her neck up to look at Paige, slightly surprised that she’s talking to her.

“Where are you from?” Celeste looks at Paige weirdly, understandably so considering this was the first conversation between the two girls.

“Um, Valley Stream, New York. Can I as-” Paige cuts Celeste off with her cheers, which this time can be heard throughout the locker room.

Celeste continues to watch Paige and Azzi with confusion, unsure of what she’s done to make Paige so excited and Azzi like she’s just been ripped of her happiness.

“Oh c’mon, Paige. Gimme a rematch.” Azzi whines, not wanting to admit to her loss.

“Nah, I think I’m good over here. The crown has been given to me and I’m not giving it up.” Paige brags, causing Azzi to dramatically roll her eyes and scoff.

“Yo, someone can shower now, I’m done.” The group of unwashed girls in the locker room hear from Zia, who comes out of the shower in a towel and her braids thrown into a messy bun.

“Go.” Paige nods towards Azzi. “Before you have to beat up Celeste and she’ll think we’re even weirder than she already does.”

“I’m the youngest here, Paige. It’s your turn.” Azzi disagrees, slumping in her seat, not wanting to be unfair to the others.

“Seriously freshie, just go shower. You stink anyways.” Paige jokes, gripping Azzi’s bicep tightly and pushing her closer to the showers. Paige is honestly quite shocked when she feels her claws not able to make a full circle around Azzi’s arm, her biceps strong and much more muscular than hers.

“See you tomorrow?” Azzi offers up.

“See you tomorrow, freshie.” Paige nods, a smile growing on her face that she’s quick to cover up with the back of her hand.

present june 2021

Paige has the Find My iPhone app up on her purple phone, watching Azzi’s icon get closer and closer to UConn campus, Paige gaining more nerves and more excitement as she does.

As the icon gets within centimeters from where Paige is on the screen, Paige runs to the glass doors, pushing them open with urgency as she strides out to wait for her best friend, and now teammate.

She watches as Azzi slowly gets out of her mother Katie's grey car and starts to pile bags onto various parts of her body. Paige chuckles to herself at Azzi’s obliviousness to her presence. Paige leans against a pole outside of the dorm building, her hands in her pockets to keep from fidgeting.

Her heart pounds inside of her chest, much like it did when her and Azzi first met. She can’t understand why she’s so nervous to see her best friend. I mean, it has been since last summer.

Azzi finally turns around, duffels packed onto her arms and a backpack swung over her back which all immediately fall to the ground once she sees Paige.

“Paige!” Azzi exclaims, running to the blonde girl who looks just like she remembers her, not changed one bit. Azzi runs into Paige’s wide spread arms, falling into her grasp before getting spun around by the older girl.

“Hey, freshie.” Paige grins, her face already hurting from smiling too much. The familiar nickname sends Azzi a shiver, reminding her of their first time meeting and how easily the pair connected.

“Hey, you can finally call me that when I’m actually a freshman.” Azzi laughs, smelling in the familiar fresh scent of Paige. Paige's head falls onto Azzi’s shoulder, as it always does when she hugs someone shorter than her, nevermind the fact that Azzi was only an inch below the older girl. Paige still made sure to remind Azzi constantly.

“I missed you so much.” Paige whispers into Azzi’s neck, a wave of hair standing up as Paige’s lips brush Azzi’s neck. “I can’t believe it’s been almost a year, Az.” Paige looks like she might nearly cry, so grateful that she’s been reunited with her best friend after a year of accomplishments for Paige and a year of impatience for Azzi.

Paige had an amazing freshman year, undoubtedly being UConn’s best player while also in the conversation for best player of the year. She’s been waiting for what feels like forever for the ESPY award ceremony where she finds out if she'll make history as first freshman to ever win National Player of the Year.

Azzi was a star for her high school team, starting the season with countless offers from amazing schools. After lots of convincing from Paige, including a highlight reel of her passing skills showing “how many shots Azzi would have set up for her” Azzi finally committed to UConn.

Paige burst into tears when Azzi told her she had committed, almost not believing the brunette and having to go to the bathroom of the restaurant they were at to wipe the running mascara from her face.

“Don’t cry before we’ve even gotten inside, P.” Azzi giggles, “You’re such a softy.” Paige quickly retracts from the hug, trying to slickly wipe the few tears that are rolling down her face, the action seen clearly by Azzi, despite the poor attempt to hide it.

“I am not soft!” Paige argues, scoffing at Azzi’s insult.

Azzi begins to argue back before the glass doors behind them slam open and a gust of wind nearly pushes the two girls over.

“Azzi’s here!” Nika Mühl, a rising sophomore on the team is making her way over to the two girls, her Croatian accent thick and her brunette hair slicked back into a tight ponytail. Nika pulls the curly head into a quick hug before giving Paige a look that Azzi can’t understand the meaning of.

“Hey Nika.” Azzi greets shyly, only having met the Croatian once during her official visit.

“We have been waiting all year for you, Azzi. We need your threes and to be honest, Paige over here is an awful player. They’re thinking of kicking her off the team.” Nika jokes, leaning in and whispering the last part to Azzi.

“Alright, alright, very funny Nika. Should I show Azzi the clip of you trying to pass the ball to one of the refs?” Paige teases back, pushing Nika nearly into the post behind them.

“Anyways,” Nika starts, shifting the conversation topic away from her embarrassing moment and back towards Azzi. “Caroline and Amari and on the couch, they moved their stuff in yesterday, so you either got the worst or best room in the dorm.”

Azzi nods along, her focus only slightly on Nika’s instruction, but mainly on Paige. The way the blonde seems to fit in here so perfectly intimidates her, making her worried that maybe she won’t be able to be the same.

Paige takes notice of this, reaching down to squeeze Azzi’s hand, their fingers quickly interlocking before separating. “You’re gonna be fine, Az. I promise, they’ll love you.” Paige whispers, nearly inaudible to Azzi, but still heard, the gesture not going unappreciated.

“Thanks, P.”

As Azzi, Paige, and Nika make their way back inside, Caroline launches up from the couch, nearly tackling Azzi to the ground when she wraps her into a tight hug.

“Hey, Carol.” Azzi giggles with wavering breaths, trying to find air within Caroline’s skin tight grasp. Paige and Nika watch from afar, Nika smiling at the sweet interaction and Paige with a slight snarl. Let her say hello to her best friend for a minute or two, Caroline, why don’t you?

Nika elbows Paige in the side, Paige’s hand rushing down to clutch her side in pain. “Little tip,” Nika starts, not making eye contact with Paige, simply looking forward and watching the picture in front of her. “Look a little bit less like you’re being tortured. You can talk to her in like two minutes.”

“What?” Paige cranes her head to Nika, her face guilty and confused simultaneously. Paige continues watching Caroline and Azzi catch up, as well as Amari and Azzi meet. It’s not that she's jealous of Caroline for being friends with Azzi, Azzi, of course, is allowed to be friends with anyone she wants, and she has known Carol longer than Paige, but they see each other much more than Paige and Azzi see each other. They’re acting like they’ve been lost at sea from each other for years, when Paige knows damn well that they saw each other last month.

“Amari and I would show you our dorm, but we both have counselor meetings. I was waiting for you to get here, but I’m almost late. I’ll give P the key and she can take you.” Caroline starts and then turns her body towards Paige. “You know where our dorm is, right?”

Paige silently thanks the universe for whomever scheduled those counselor appointments and nods to Caroline as an answer to her question. Caroline throws Paige her keys, which Paige catches swiftly in one hand and stashes in the pockets of her sweatpants.

“You ready to go, freshie?” Paige smiles towards the curly head, shortening the distance between them and tapping her on the hip.

“I’m expecting a very professional tour.” Azzi jokes, slapping Paige on the arm and holding out her palm to grab the keys from her. Paige reluctantly hands Azzi the keys from her pockets and rolls her eyes at Azzi’s aggression.

“Nika, you wanna come?” Azzi offers, earning her a smirk from Nika directed towards Paige.

“Nah, I’m waiting for Dorka, the senior transfer. You go ahead, Az.” Nika smiles softly while laughing to herself. Why? - Neither Paige nor Azzi can understand.

Paige and Azzi silently start their long journey to the elevator of their dorm building, Azzi’s stuff brought inside by her parents are hanging, mainly, on Paige’s shoulders and the remaining on Azzi’s. “You don’t have to carry those, P.” Azzi smiles.

“I’ve been ordered by gramps to welcome the freshman.” Paige sarcastically grumbles. “Trust me, I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t told to.” Paige keeps her angry face for a few moments before she and Azzi both burst into laughter as the elevator finally opens and they step inside.

“I can’t believe we’re finally on the same team again. It’s been too long.” Azzi states, almost longingly for old times. Reminiscent on how easy and simple and fun basketball once was.

“I’d be kicking your ass if you went anywhere else, so be thankful.” Paige starts before taking a deep breath and getting more sentimental. “I’m glad you’re here though. I don’t think I could’ve taken us being on different teams.”

“One of us probably would have ended up transferring by the end of the year.” Azzi jokes.

“Or ejected from games with techs against each other.” Paige chimes in.

“God, I missed you.”

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #paige x azzi #pazzi #pazzi is real #pazzi fics #pazzi fanfiction #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers uconn #wcbb #womens basketball

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camficdiner · 4 months ago

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Heatwave- JH86 QH43

prompt: Quinn Hughes x Zegras sister! reader Jack Hughes x Zegras Sister! reader, friends to lovers, trouple, slightly angst

Chapter 1: Home, but not the same

wc: 1k

nda: hello to everyone, its my first story, if you’re interested i’ll post the second chapter tomorrow

“So sis, when is your flight?”

Trevor’s voice is relaxed, that same easygoing tone he has during the offseason—no stress, no training, no schedule. He’s probably sunbathing or messing around by the lake with Jack, completely carefree. You roll your eyes, adjusting your oversized black sunglasses as the airport buzzes around you.

“Hello to you too, dear menace of a brother. My flight takes off in five minutes, I’ll land in four hours. I’m still hungover, so please, please, no loud welcoming.” Your voice is rough, the effects of last night’s party still lingering. Your head pounds slightly, your throat dry, the taste of stale liquor still faint on your tongue.

Trevor laughs on the other end, loud and full of amusement. “Yeah, gotcha, sis. See you at the airport. Love you.”

You sink back into your seat, letting out a breath. “Love you too, Trev.”

You and Trevor have always been close. He’s your big brother, your protector, always on your right side. If there was ever a safety net in your life, it was him. But four years ago, you decided you needed a change—needed to breathe. So you left, studied abroad in Europe, let distance do its thing.

You still remember the night you told Trevor you were leaving. He had laughed at first, like it was some kind of joke. Then, when he realized you were serious, the smile disappeared.

“You’re really leaving? Just like that?”

“It’s not like that, Trev. I just—” You had hesitated, gripping your phone so tightly your knuckles turned white. “I need something new. I feel like… if I stay, I’ll never figure out who I am.”

Trevor had been silent for a long time, and that silence had cut deeper than any words could.

“I just don’t get why you have to go so far to do that.”

You didn’t either. Not really. But you had left anyway.

And now, standing in the airport, about to see him again for the first time in four years, you wonder if he ever really forgave you for it.

Since then, your bond has survived on late-night calls and scattered texts. You weren’t there when he got drafted. He wasn’t there when you graduated. You both pretended it didn’t hurt, but it did. The last time Trevor saw you, you were just a kid—eager, naive, unprepared for what the world had in store for you.

Now? You’re different.

Your hair is longer, a shade between blonde and chocolate, falling effortlessly over your shoulders. Your body tells its own story now, decorated with ink—some tattoos marking milestones, others just because they fit your aesthetic. University. Travel. Late nights and reckless decisions. Your stomach is flatter, your body more defined, the hours in the gym evident in the way your muscles move beneath your skin.

And then, the finishing touch—the silver and diamond grillz on your upper teeth, cold against your tongue.

Trevor is going to lose his mind when he sees you.

The flight is a blur. You spend most of it asleep, head resting against the cool window, trying to shake off the exhaustion from last night. At some point, a flight attendant gently taps your leg to wake you. She’s pretty, a polite smile on her lips as she tells you the plane has landed. You nod, mumbling a tired “thank you,” stretching out your sore muscles before grabbing your duffel bag from the overhead compartment.

It’s filled with bikinis, sundresses, and heels—all the essentials for a summer at the lake house.

The Hughes brothers have always been part of your life. Jack has been Trevor’s best friend since they were kids, recruited together for the USNTDP, inseparable ever since. Even after Trevor was drafted by the Ducks and Jack by the Devils, their bond never changed. Every offseason, they’d retreat to the lake house—a place Jack and his brothers, Quinn and Luke, had bought together with their million-dollar contracts.

The Hughes brothers have always been obsessed with the lake house. It’s their escape, their home away from the chaos of the season.

You always got along with them. Quinn, the oldest, was the responsible one. Jack? A menace, the definition of a frat boy, just like Trevor. And Luke—the youngest, still finding his place among them.

But it’s been years since you’ve seen them.

Your phone vibrates in your hand.

“Trev? Are you outside?”

“Yes, little sis, I’m waiting to see your beautiful, pretty face—which, by the way, I have no idea what looks like anymore.”

You smirk, stepping out into the warm air, the sun kissing your skin as you scan the parking lot. “You, on the other hand, probably look exactly the same, Zegras.”

And then you see him.

Trevor is leaning against a sleek black Mercedes SUV, phone still in hand. He looks just like you remember—tall, effortlessly cool, that same cocky grin he always wears. But when he turns and finally lays eyes on you, the grin disappears.

His jaw drops.

Lips parting, his eyes widen in pure disbelief as he takes you in from head to toe.

You can’t help but laugh. Yeah, that’s the reaction I was expecting.

You don’t hesitate—you walk straight up to him and throw yourself into his arms.

The hug feels like home.

Trevor doesn’t hesitate either. His arms wrap tightly around your waist, lifting you off the ground with ease as he spins you in the air. You giggle, pressing your face into his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of vanilla tobacco and mint.

“Oh my God, sis, I’ve missed you. You can’t even understand how much,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, genuine.

Your fingers clutch the back of his shirt. “Missed you too, Trev. Like crazy.”

He finally sets you down, but the moment he pulls back to really look at you, he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Jesus, you have more ink than me, lil’ sis. But damn, you look stunning—literally, if you weren’t my sister…”

You roll your eyes and punch his arm. “You’re disgusting.”

Trevor just smirks, tossing your bag into the SUV before climbing into the driver’s seat.

As you settle in beside him, he starts the engine and glances at you. “So, ready for a legendary summer?”

You tilt your head, a smirk tugging at your lips. “How are the Hughes brothers?”

“They’re good—happy to be in the offseason, just like me.” He pauses for a second, then huffs out a laugh. “But they’re gonna lose their minds when they see you now.”

You chuckle, leaning back against the seat.

Jack was always trouble. He was the type to push buttons, to drag you into chaos. And Quinn? Well… Quinn had always been the quiet one. Observant. Level-headed. Mature. You wonder if that’s changed. You wonder if he’s changed.

“Well, Trev,” you murmur, reaching for the volume knob and turning the music up, letting the beat fill the car.

“I guess we’ll see.”

The summer at the lake house has officially begun.

Chapter 2 : https://www.tumblr.com/decadentwerewolfdreamer/777927270922895360/heatwave-jh86-qh43

chapter 3: https://www.tumblr.com/decadentwerewolfdreamer/778560081877991424/heatwave-jh86-qh43

chapter 4: https://www.tumblr.com/decadentwerewolfdreamer/780171862711975936/heatwave-jh86-qh43

#jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #trevor zegras #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader

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the-sparrohawk · 2 months ago

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Between the Grave and the Garden

I am so excited to share the first chapter of the story I started working on with @sharpest-tongue over four (!!!) months ago. It's been a labor of love, and we hope you enjoy it as well! The fic is finished, and we'll be posting chapters every Thursday and Sunday.

Chapters: 1/9 Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte/Emmrich Volkarin Rating: Explicit (reflects finished work) Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Humor, Romance, Sexual Content, Canon-Typical Violence ~~~~~ * ~~~~~

"We're gonna need that end of the table," Taash said, looming over Emmrich with a platter of sliced fruit.

The necromancer looked up wearily from the disorganized pile of papers. "Of course, Taash. Rook and I are nearly done in any event. We only need a moment longer."

"Oh, it's all right, Professor. Dinner won't be ready for another..." Bellara lifted the lid off a pot, letting a cloud of steam escape. "Ten minutes? Or... maybe five? The rice just has to cook and then I need to make sure the carrots are cooked through and—"

"And we're gonna need that end of the table."

"All right, all right, Taash." Rook reached out one long arm and scooped the papers into a slightly more cohesive pile.

Emmrich looked chiding as he eased the papers out of Rook's hands and spread them out again. "We all know you hate paperwork but if we don't reply to Archon Pavus in the next two days, we'll lose our opportunity to set that trap for the Venatori we discussed and then you'll be disappointed. We have ten minutes. That's all we need."

"Bet you never thought you'd be corresponding with the Archon of Tevinter," Davrin said from his supine position on the couch.

"I never did," Rook agreed with a sigh. "Never thought I'd be co-parenting a griffon either, but stranger things have happened." He turned back to Emmrich. "Couldn't you just draft the letter and have me sign it? I'm a simple man. Warden training never covered this sort of thing."

"Ah, yes," Emmrich said, his voice dry as dust. "The position to which I've always aspired: the puppetmaster behind the throne. It sounds intensely rewarding and not at all like a significant amount of unappreciated work." He tapped the half-finished page in front of Rook. "Focus, please. You'll be done before Bellara if you put your head down."

Rook obeyed, and while he was not actually done before dinner was being set on the table, he managed not to spill any of the stew onto his letter to Thedas's newest head of state. Seeing Rook start to sweep the other papers onto an empty dining chair, Emmrich collected them and set them in a prominent spot on the coffee table. He suspected Rook might try to escape with Davrin after supper, but with luck he could coax another twenty or thirty minutes of work from him before he disappeared.

They all sat in their usual places; unspoken agreement usually left Harding's and Neve's places empty, though Taash took Harding's from time to time.

"What do you think?" Bellara asked after they'd all eaten in silence for a few minutes. "It's pretty simple, I know, but I thought we've all been working so hard and we could probably just use something hearty. Not that I think simple is bad, it's just—"

"It's good, Bellara," Rook said, giving her a wan smile. "I like the herbs." He glanced down the table at Emmrich. "And it's better than toast."

"Good toast is all in the quality of the bread," Emmrich sniffed. "And it is a perfectly healthy and substantial breakfast, especially with jam. Which I did provide."

"It was good," Taash said, stirring their rice into their stew. "I like burnt toast."

"It wasn't all burned," Davrin said, glancing at Rook. "There was a whole range of doneness to choose from."

"Don't listen to them, Professor," Bellara said. "It was really nice of you to make breakfast for us. The stove here is just really tricky. I think Lucanis was the only one who really mastered it."

There was a long silence. "Anyone heard from him?" Taash asked.

Continue reading on AO3

#emmcanis #emmrich x lucanis #lucanis x emmrich #emmrich volkarin #lucanis dellamorte #dragon age fan fiction #dragon age the veilguard #datv fanfic #my fanfiction

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trekscribbles · 8 days ago

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Failsafe: Chapter Thirteen

...I came across the John Rogers line "Eliot's job is to be the failsafe that never fails". And I couldn't help thinking... What happens if the failsafe does fail?

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve

Note: I made a few adjustments to chapter 12, but I'm not posting them here--I'll just post the corrected chapter on AO3 when it gets to that point. The details I added are: Rosner has been sending hitmen after Eliot over the last 4 months, and Eliot has been using them to keep Rosner's attention on him in the hopes that he'll leave the team alone.

(Disclaimer: This is a relatively rough draft and subject to change when I post to AO3.)

Now on ao3

Hardison found Nate in the main office, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Sophie. They looked up when he entered the room, but didn’t move apart, and the sight of them together eased something in Hardison’s chest. Things had been tense between them, but their respective close calls seemed to have given them some perspective.

“I got a name,” he said simply, forcing a sense of enthusiasm he didn’t feel into his voice.

Nate’s eyebrows went up. He waited for Hardison to elaborate, so he did, explaining everything he’d seen on his screen: the name, the title, the location. “He’s here in Portland,” he finished. “I’ll keep looking to dig up more connections between him and Becker and Wilcox, but this is him for sure.”

“Good work,” Nate said, in the tired, distractedly sincere voice he’d been using over the last few months. Hardison had never thought he’d miss Nate’s abrasiveness, but that gentle tone grated on his nerves. He hated feeling like Nate was being careful with him.

He hated feeling fragile.

“So, uh...” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m gonna keep looking.”

Sophie tilted her head. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Hardison flashed her a smile, making sure it reached his eyes. “We’re getting closer, right? All good news.”

“Right,” Sophie said slowly.

“I’ll let you know when I have more,” he promised.

He turned before she could call him back and retreated to the hallway, where he paused to lean against the wall. The ache in his eyes had spread to his forehead, where it dug in and made itself at home inside his skull. It was probably from the screens—he’d been staring at them for hours—but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. He had to keep looking. It was the only useful thing he could do.

You want Eliot to come back, don’t you?

Hardison leaned his shoulder into the wall and let his head rest against the cool surface. Parker’s question had surprised him. Hurt him, if he was honest. How could she doubt that he wanted Eliot back? Did she think he could blame Eliot for what happened? That he wouldn’t understand? Sure, he had nightmares sometimes—waking up with a scream lodged in his throat, cut off by the arms he’d always trusted to defend him, but that—that was to be expected. That was a normal reaction to being choked out in the middle of a pitch black basement outside a morgue. Throughout this whole damned nightmare, Hardison was the only one reacting like a sane person.

And he was getting a little tired of it.

He’d always been able to channel his emotions into creating, into solving problems with his keyboard and his brain, but this... it wasn’t enough. He wanted to be out searching. He wanted to lie to a mark and punch bad guys in a warehouse parking lot. He wanted to punch Eliot for leaving in the first place.

But he couldn’t do any of that, because he was just the guy with the computer, and he had to keep up a front for the others. He had to be the one to smile so Nate and Sophie felt guilty about fighting. He had to be strong for Parker.

Sighing, Hardison straightened and went back to his screens. “I told Nate,” he said, rubbing his eyes as he entered his office. “But I still have to...”

The room was empty. That was fine—at least then he didn’t have to pretend. Parker may have gone to get something to eat, or to stretch her legs, or base jump off a skyscraper or something, who knew. She wasn’t the most communicative under normal circumstances, and the last few months hadn’t helped. It was fine. Fewer distractions, that was all.

He moved toward his desk, but then kept going and went to the window instead. A gray sky stretched over the city, and judging by the coats and hats and scarves wrapped around the people on the street, it must be a cold, damp day. Hardison wasn’t a believer in the benefits of fresh air, generally, but the tension in his head made him reconsider. Maybe opening the window would help. Just for a few minutes.

He reached for the window latch, but a screech of tires below pulled his attention back to the street. A car had slammed on its breaks, and a body—a body—rolled across the hood and tumbled off the other side onto the pavement.

Parker.

Hardison ran for the stairs. He was down into the brewpub and through the dining area before he thought to call Nate, but it didn’t matter—no one was wearing their comms, not when they were all together at the office. He’d have to go back up to explain what he’d just seen, and he couldn’t—not until he knew she was okay.

He pushed through the crowd of diners gathered at the door, and then he was out on the sidewalk, running for the street, for the car still stopped and the driver standing with his head in his hands by the hood. Hardison slowed, panting, frowning at the empty spot on the street where Parker had been standing.

He angled for the driver. “Hey, you okay?”

The man lifted his head and fixed Hardison with a confused, anguished look. “I don’t know what happened. I saw her on the sidewalk, but she didn’t look like she wanted to cross, so I kept going. Then all of a sudden she steps out in front of me. I didn’t have time to stop, I swear—”

“Where’d she go?” Hardison interrupted.

“I don’t know,” the man said miserably. “I don’t know. She just took off. I swear, I didn’t mean to hit her.”

Hardison put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “This is gonna sound crazy, but she does that. She got up, right? She’s fine. Go ahead and go, man, it’s all right.”

Probably. It was probably all right. Parker took a car hit like a stubbed toe most of the time, but she normally didn’t do it just to freak out civilians. He turned again, searching the street, a sick feeling rising in his throat. His earbud was in his pocket, and he slipped it free and put it in, hoping one of the others had forgotten to take theirs out.

“Parker?” he tried. No answer… but he hadn’t really hoped for one. “Nate? Sophie?”

Nothing. He turned back to the driver. “Did you see which direction she went?”

The man pointed down the street, and Hardison patted his arm once more before hurrying away. He’d been willing to let Parker process things on her own terms before, but he drew the line at causing car accidents. He had to find her and get her to talk through whatever she hadn’t told them about that night. There was something, Hardison knew, because she’d started to tell him a dozen times before changing her mind, like she was afraid of what he might say.

First Eliot, now Parker. Did nobody trust him to handle anything harder than a tricky line of code?

Hardison shook his throbbing head, focusing back on the task at hand. Where would Parker go? If she was looking for heavier traffic, she could have taken any number of streets toward a busier part of the city, and he’d never be able to guess which. Maybe he should go back in and track her phone? That would probably be faster. He turned back toward the brewpub.

A woman up the block shrieked. Hardison spun, following her pointing finger—not toward another accident, but up—up the side of a building, to the roof, where—

His body went cold. A figure stood on the top of an office building. Not stood… walked. It stepped up onto the little wall running along the edge, and—it—she—

She went over the edge, and another woman screamed, and Hardison couldn’t move. He couldn’t see. Something was wrong with his eyes—black spots filled his vision, just like that night, when the arm went across his throat, and he sucked in a breath and tried to see where she’d gone—where she’d fallen—but there was nothing. No body hurtling through the air, no broken figure on the pavement. He took another shuddering breath, but the sidewalk stayed the same. She wasn’t there.

He ran for the building.

“Nate,” he said, but there was still no answer, so he fumbled for his phone as hurtled through the automatic doors and ran for the stairs. A receptionist shouted something after him, but he didn’t stop—he dialed Nate’s number and ripped open the staircase door with a shaking hand.

He answered on the third ring. “Hardison? Where are you?”

“Parker got hit by a car.” A tremor ran through his words, and his voice was strained as he leaped up the stairs. “She walked into traffic, and then got up and went—she went to the top of a building, the offices down the street—up on the roof, and she—she walked off, but—”

“Hardison, slow down,” Nate said. “What happened?”

“Parker jumped off a building.” It came out as a sob, but his eyes were dry. He thought they were dry. He couldn’t take a full breath. “She jumped, but she didn’t fall. I was standing right there, but I didn’t see her fall, so she must have gone back, but I saw her, man, she went off the side—”

“Sophie,” Nate said, his voice distant. “Okay, Hardison, where are you? We’re coming.”

“I’m in the building, going up the stairs. I’m—”

“Hardison?”

Hardison froze, his breath ragged. “Parker?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice clear and calm over the comms. “You’re coming up the stairs?”

“Parker,” Hardison echoed. “You’re—you’re okay? You’re not—you didn’t—?”

“I’m fine,” she said.

Hardison’s legs gave out. He dropped against the wall, his head pounding in time with his heart, his phone loose in his hand. Nate’s voice kept coming through the speaker, but Hardison couldn’t make sense of the words.

“Hardison?” Parker said.

Nate spoke through the earbud now. “Parker? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Parker said. “Everything is fine.”

“Hardison said you got hit by a car?”

“Barely.”

“And you jumped off a building?”

“No,” Parker said. “I walked off. But it’s fine, I didn’t—”

“Parker,” Nate snapped. “Get back to the brewpub, now. I know what you’re doing, and it’s stupid and reckless and—what do you think, Eliot’s just going to swoop out of the sky because you put yourself in a dangerous situation? We don’t even know for sure that it was him helping us. He’s not going to—”

“It worked,” Parker said.

Everything went quiet. Hardison looked up the empty stairs, his heart twisting into horrible new contortions that made him feel like there wasn’t enough space in his chest for his lungs.

It worked. The car, the building… she did it to draw Eliot out of the shadows, and it worked.

“Where are you?” Nate asked.

There was no emotion in his voice, but that wasn’t surprising. Hardison didn’t know what he was feeling, either. He got unsteadily to his feet, shoving his phone into his pocket, holding onto the railing for support.

“Coming down the stairs,” Parker said.

Hardison started upwards, still clinging to the rail, fighting for control over his breath. Nate was quiet again, but Hardison thought he could hear doors closing in the background. He and Sophie were on their way.

Hardison turned a corner for the next flight, and there they were—Parker, flushed with excitement the way she always was after a brush with adrenaline, and behind her…

Eliot.

He looked the same, and something about that felt wrong. Like nothing had changed, like they hadn’t spent the last four months wondering if he was still alive, and if he was, why he hadn’t come back.

Why hadn’t he come back?

Parker jogged down the last few stairs, and Hardison stopped on the landing and swept her into a hug that lifted her off her feet.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her lips on his ear. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Hardison held her, closing his eyes and sinking into the feeling of her arms around his shoulders, her breath on his skin. She was okay. More than okay—she’d figured out what to do to bring Eliot back, even if it put her in danger, and he was both terrified and proud of that. And now…

Hardison opened his eyes. Eliot stood two steps up, his gaze averted, his expression blank. Now that he was closer, Hardison could see that he looked a little pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Parker pulled away and stepped past him onto the landing, and he could feel her watching him. Watching them.

“Eliot,” Hardison said.

If Hardison didn’t know him better, he would have said Eliot flinched. There wasn’t quite a movement, but the skin around his eyes tightened, like he was keeping himself from looking away. Hardison stepped toward him.

“Well?” he said.

Eliot didn’t answer. His hands were shoved into his pockets, giving his shoulders a hunched, hurt look. At this angle, Hardison had to peer up into his face, and Eliot did his best to avoid eye contact. Then he swallowed, gathering himself with a long breath, and looked up.

“You look tired,” he said.

Whispered, really. His voice sounded like he hadn’t used it in months, like it hurt to speak. Maybe it did. Maybe he’d spent their time apart holed up in a basement somewhere, when he wasn’t following them around and saving their butts from behind the scenes. Hardison lifted his hand, and Eliot held his gaze with a flat, resigned look.

Waiting.

Hardison looked at his hand, and found it had tightened into a fist. He hadn’t meant to do that—had he?

You want Eliot to come back, don’t you? Parker had asked.

You aren’t angry with him?

“You’re not even going to defend yourself?” Hardison said.

Eliot didn’t answer, and that was answer enough, and before Hardison had decided how he was going to act, he was moving again, and Eliot stood still and waited for the blow to land.

Hardison grabbed him behind the shoulder instead, dragging him down a step and into a rough hug. He reached around Eliot’s back with his other hand, holding him close when he stiffened. He stood unmoving inside Hardison’s embrace, his hands in his pockets, his head on Hardison’s shoulder. He didn’t return the hug, and he didn’t pull away—and it didn’t feel like Eliot, which made the tears finally sting in Hardison’s eyes.

“You didn’t think I could take it?” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “You didn’t even let me decide for myself whether I wanted you around?”

Eliot’s muscles tensed, and Hardison tightened his grip, digging his fingers into Eliot’s jacket and squeezing until his hands ached.

You’re not even going to defend yourself?

“We’re outside the building,” Nate said through the comms. “Where are you?”

For one more moment, Hardison kept his arms around Eliot’s shoulders, trying to think of something to say to break his silence. If he would say something, then Hardison could argue, but he was just standing there like none of it mattered, like he hadn’t wanted to come back, and the twisting feeling in Hardison’s chest was growing hotter and sharper and darker, until it felt like it would break through his ribcage and tear him apart.

“You’re tougher than that,” Eliot said, and the torrent in Hardison's chest went still. He put one hand on Hardison’s arm, clasping so hard it hurt. “Tougher than me.”

Then he stepped out of Hardison’s grasp and lead the way down the stairs without looking back.

#leverage #leverage fanfic #leverage fanfiction #my fic #failsafe #sorry this chapter took so long #real life has been... discouraging #but that's a good mindset for this chapter so i guess there's that #i think we have 3 chapters left if i can figure out how to wrap up the job #and then i'm probably going to take a break for a little while.

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brynnmclean · 9 months ago

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in the core of everything drums a beat - snippets round up post

Actually, not a bad idea to have some kind of post with all the Hellblade fic fragments I've posted so far. In vague order of how they should fit together chronologically in the fic (ETA 21 May 2025, adjusted to accommodate the latest chapter count):

Chapter one -- now posted on AO3

Rough draft of chapter one where Thórgestr is having a lot of fever dreams (there was an earlier post with a small section that I think is still my favorite in the chapter)

Also from chapter one, but I think @eisoj5 asking me for "and" as a word in that WIP meme remains hilarious, so here's that post

Chapter two -- now posted on AO3

Part of chapter two and the introduction of my Irish healer OC Iseult

"She owes me nothing. I owe her everything."

Thórgestr awake and making a very bad joke about getting stabbed, my beloved

First Senua Giantsbane name drop!

"Is my father dead?" "He's alive. He's an exile."

I'm really fond of Fargrímr and I do think he cares about Thórgestr, so this is a nice little moment for that

Chapter three (once upon a time I said I could finish this in 3 chapters, lol) -- now posted on AO3

Intro to the chapter where half-asleep Thórgestr eavesdrops on a conversation between Senua and Fargrímr

There is so much in the game about Thórgestr's dad so why not feature a dream of his mother, here's her introduction

I gave her some very specific spirit vibes :)

You know, lot of emphasis on being your father's child, but Thórgestr is also his mother's son and I think that's important. Also I know surnames are patronymic, but there was that whole thing in the game about the importance of names, chosen names included, and so I really dig the idea of Thórgestr privately thinking of himself as Eindridson. (Also I like prophecies and love the idea of Eindrid as ghostly fate-spirit predicting how Áleifr will die... Honestly, chapter three is a fave!)

Thórgestr probably forgot what his mother's face looked like, so of course he's afraid to look away from her when she appears in his dreams

You ever write a bunch of fun images and then have a friend brainstorm plot developments with you later when you're at a loss on what kind of object you might need characters to go find, so of course your friend is like, "hey, you already wrote what you need." Just me? (thanks @allatariel <3)

Chapter four

The beginning of the chapter

Part of a midnight conversation between Senua and Thórgestr, early in the chapter

A moment I think is cute at the end of that scene

Chapter five

The beginning of an important conversation between Ástríðr and Thórgestr.

"Your father is gone. So is mine. But I’ll have what I’m owed. Tell me, Thórgestr," Ástríðr says, "what is your regret worth? What of your word?"

Chapter six

please I want the beginning of this next scene to be down, I've been struggling

“I am worried that I will be of no use to you. So I am angry with myself. I have many things to answer for.”

working on another conversation between Senua and Thórgestr, but also this is a post where I ramble about some things I want to accomplish in this fic!

Senua first talks about Dillion

Senua finally gets a hug LIKE SHE DESERVES

It sounds simple, but Thórgestr and Senua talk a little bit about being friends and that is important to me

Chapter seven

Another spooky dream :) this one heavily referencing the beginning of the game in Reykjanestá

Thórgestr waking up from the above dream

Chapter eight

Chapter opener -- Thórgestr is finally getting out of the sickroom!

More than just Iseult survived being a giant sacrifice :) here is the intro to a couple more :)

Small paragraph referencing the voices Senua hears

“I know your fear. But we both want peace—so much that we have bled for it, him most of all. He is my friend.”

my bi!Thórgestr agenda makes its first appearance :)

Chapter nine

originally there was going to be two dreams in this chapter, but this one is getting cut: a battlefield nightmare -- now separately on AO3

Druth Dream Sighting :D

More of that dream

His heart is tangled up in the threads of her story, pulled from his chest and into her grasp like a fish from the sea.

Dillion reference -- I miss him :(

“It’s not you I doubt, but myself. I wish I were whole again for you. I don’t like feeling like the weak arm in a shield-wall.”

Chapter ten

something something Tolkien fandom hair obsession got me thinking about Thórgestr needing a haircut

he's trying to be so chill and it is absolutely not working, lol

Thórgestr starts talking about Druth :)

And the dark rot!

I miss Dillion, okay? Senua has gotta talk about Dillion. And then she asks Thórgestr if he's ever been in love before. (He has!)

Chapter eleven

"Senua Giantsbane, Senua Truthseeker"

A funny part of a conversation with a Bjarg skáld OC who pitches a marriage of convenience between Senua and Thórgestr to his utter bewilderment

Technically this comes earlier in the chapter, but here is another fun moment from my girl Solveig, can anyone tell that I love bards

Hey, remember that one guard that Thórgestr has some friendly antagonism with during the Borgarvirki section of the game? First mention of him over here. He'll be back. :)

Solveig's eloquent yet dismissive hand gesture about Ástríðr makes me laugh okay?

“You want power.” “No, I want influence.”

Many things are out of his hands. But he’ll move forward. He must.

Chapter twelve

I struggled with the intro to this chapter for awhile, but here is a little from the conclusion to Thórgestr and Solveig's meeting

working on a gap-filler / interlude from Ástríðr's POV

That feeling when you have to break up tasks into very small pieces in order to even start getting yourself up out of bed--

Viking Age Area Man has no idea how to say "same hat" to Irish friend

"Is my presence on the negotiating table then, Northman?"

Stuff from later in the series

One of my favorite parts I've written for the whole damn thing even now -- Thórgestr doing sword drills alone on a beach near Bárðarvik

Thórgestr and Fargrímr conversation snippets one and two that are actually part of a larger scene

Multi / Misc:

Sections from multiple chapters: intro descriptions of OCs!

There was a WIP Excerpts meme going around late Dec 2024, so here is the tag for my responses to asks about that

WIP Word Train posts: SWEAR and then WHALE / BEAST

Two kiss prompt fills: a kiss where it hurts and a kiss in a rush of adrenaline

Other posts:

My fanmix / fic playlist post

Others Narration transcription posts (6 total)

My video games screenshots tag

The overall tag for this fic is hertan writing tag

... also for my own reference, first mention of the fic, dated 04 June 2024 (sighs so heavily about how slow of a writer I am)

LAST UPDATE ON THIS POST: 24 June 2025

Feel free to author subscribe on AO3 if you want to catch the fic drop whenever that happens in the future

Chapter One Tumblr Post | Chapter Two Tumblr Post | Chapter Three Tumblr Post

#hertan writing tag #hellblade #senua's saga #senua #thorgestr #senua x thorgestr #my fic #round up post #masterlist #i can't remember what my tag was for something like this #anyway hope this is of interest for folks who maybe haven't caught all of these posts #i am writing!!!#rough drafts #fic masterlist

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crybabyddl · 6 months ago

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Black Coffee

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Chapter Two

Warning: swearing, miscommunication, awkwardness, coffee shop au, modern au

Author's Note: I apologize for the abrupt end to the first chapter. I wasn't sure how to connect the next plot, so I just decided to post it instead of letting it rot in my drafts like I usually do. Enjoy! :)

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

----

Eddie spent the day unpacking more boxes, crushing the cardboard down with his boots. He told himself he had to do four hours of productive work before doing anything fun. However, around hour three, he was hanging up his beloved guitar. As his fingers accidentally brushed against the strings, he couldn't resist the siren call of his instrument.

Eddie indulged in his craft, getting lost in the fluid movements of his fingers and the melodies they produced. Today's setlist was comprised of songs from Rush's catalog, as well as some deep cuts from Metallica and Judas Priest.

It was two hours later when his hand started cramping up, and Eddie placed his prized possession back on its mount. Looking down at his watch, he made the executive decision to treat himself to a coffee.

Could he have made some from the Keurig he'd set up on the counter just hours earlier? Sure, but where's the fun in that? Eddie would much rather take a stroll down to the coffee shop he discovered yesterday. He needed to try the coffee a few more times before making the final verdict on this shop being his favorite.

That's how Eddie wound up ordering another small black coffee in the cozy café. To his disappointment, the girl who took his order yesterday didn't appear to be around. Regardless, Eddie tucked himself into the closest two-seated booth, slowly letting the caffeine seep into his bloodstream with each sip he took. He had to admit, it was really good coffee--just as good as it was the day before.

Despite his appreciation for the sepia-toned ambience and warm atmosphere that the coffee shop had, the sound of the pop music station, other customers' conversations, the espresso grinders, and the whirring of the milk frothers became quite overwhelming for Eddie. Not to mention the tension headache he could feel coming on due to the dim, yet concentrated overhead lighting.

As he went to throw his cup in the garbage, Eddie decided to take a risk.

"Excuse me." he approached the side counter where a chestnut-haired gentleman stood, drying dishes.

"How can I help you, sir?"

"I was just wondering if, uh, the barista with the cool eyeliner was working today."

The man paused for a moment before seemingly putting together who Eddie was talking about.

"No, she's not. Did you want me to take a message?"

"No, that's alright. Thank you."

"Sure thing."

Eddie knew better than to say anything, for fear of coming off as creepy. It was already slightly odd to be asking if a specific employee was working there. Maybe it wasn't as weird as it felt, but every action felt awkward, forced, and out of character for him lately. It's part of the reason why he packed up and relocated to the small town his parents moved to when they retired. There was a therapist he was going to start seeing, one that was actually supposed to help him work through his problems, not just listen to him rant about what was bothering him.

On the walk back to his apartment, Eddie tried to anticipate all the talking points his mother and father would bring up when he went to visit them tomorrow after his first appointment with the new therapist. How was the appointment? Did you tell her everything? Did you finish unpacking? Do you need to go grocery shopping? Did you sleep last night? Are you eating enough? He knew his parents were just looking out for him, wanted to make sure he was doing alright, but Eddie was twenty five years old, he was more than capable of taking care of himself... most of the time.

---- the next day...

8:00am

"Oh my god, you guys," you began in a tizzy. "I almost slid into a ditch on my way here."

"The roads are that bad?" asked Nancy, who'd been at the café since five this morning.

"Yeah," you reached behind your back to tie your apron. "It was really coming down over at my house. I think it's supposed to start here around noon."

12:02pm

The cafe had been steadily busy throughout the day, but the hours still seemed to pass far too slowly for anyone's liking.

Two minutes late, like always, Steve makes his grand entrance, bundled in a navy puffer jacket and a plaid scarf, likely from Ralph Lauren.

"Holy shit," he panted exasperatedly as he hung up his coat and scarf. "I almost ran myself into a ditch."

Nancy's eyebrows quirked as she glanced over at you to see if she was hearing your coworker correctly, but you'd since gone over to help a customer.

Once you returned, you and Steve exchanged stories of your treacherous commutes while Nancy tried to predict which of your fellow baristas scheduled for today would be the next to come in with a similar tale to tell.

"Oh, Y/N, someone was asking for you yesterday."

"Really? Who was it?"

"I didn't get his name, but he just asked if the 'girl with the cool eyeliner' was there."

You thought for a moment, trying to recall if any of your friends from high school or other jobs were slated to be in town this week, but nobody came to mind.

"I have no idea who that could be. Most of the people I know either wear just as crazy of eyeliner as me, or would know me by name. What did he look like?"

"He was probably around our age, maybe older. Long wavy brown hair, leather jacket, had on a shit-ton of rings."

You stood up a bit straighter upon hearing Steve's description of the mystery man. It sounded like the cute guy from a couple days ago... he ordered a black coffee... Eddie! His name was Eddie.

"Did he say anything else?"

"No. Do you know him?"

"That's the guy I was telling you guys about the other night."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, that checks out."

The rest of your shift went by much faster, knowing you'd made just as much of an impression on Eddie as he did on you. Even though he didn't come into the shop by the time you finished your shift, just knowing he wanted to see you was enough to hold you over for a while.

7:03pm

Your phone buzzed. A text from Steve.

Stove: Btw that guy came in an hour after you left

Your phone buzzed again, another text from Steve.

Stove: I gave him your number

----

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worrywrite · 11 days ago

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I don't like sharing my writing. I would call it advertising, but I'm not selling anything; most of my writing is freely available online. But telling other people that I have writing they could read, and then actually asking people to go read my writing... I don't like it. Kind of feels like I'm begging. Doesn't help that I know I don't edit my work particularly well. I consider myself a writer, but I know people (who aren't writers) expect writers to be able to basically print out a finished draft whenever they write, and I know I can't do that (I don't think this really changes whether I am a writer or not, but it doesn't feel great, you know?). Hell, I don't even consider myself a particularly good writer in practice.

Anyway, I'm forcing myself to share my writing because I have two stories in particular that I would appreciate more readers on. I'm not selling my work, I'm not paying to have my work reviewed. I kind of just want to figure out if I really am just writing for myself, because I don't think my writing resonates with anyone else. But also there are other more substantial reasons.

I write, primarily, on RoyalRoad because most of what I write is original fiction. However, I know my preferred genres do very badly on RR because RR is a bastion of litrpg and gamer fiction and I'm not particularly fond of either. However, I do actually really like the build of the website itself (it does suck that it got eaten up by Amazon, but the influence is limited and bearable). Anyway. I'm stalling. See? If no one wants to get through this wall of text they'll never scroll down to where I actually link my writing. I'm also posting late at night for the same reason. They'll never know I suck, because they'll never read this far and actually get to the stories.

Whatever.

First story is called Vanisher. I started it almost four years ago because I had an action movie dream that ended with jumping off of a sky scraper and that being a good thing. While it was originally an action story, it very quickly became about "who are you? is that who you are in your head or who people think you are? what if who you are meant to be is dead, but you could change that?" Which was more of a paranormal-ish intrigue story. And then stopped writing the story for nearly four years (because I'd been a lot less stressed... for reasons, and wasn't writing as much). Then I came back to it (because I got a lot more stressed... for reasons, and started writing more) and I realized that that core of the narrative also lent really well to a sort of romantic self discovery, and then I made the main characters kiss. And that went well. But the thing I'm concerned about is that the first five chapters are missing something. I know they're missing something, but I can't really put my finger on it. And the only way to really figure it out is to have a bunch of people read the whole thing. The only problem is that it's longer than Twilight now and not quite finished (though it will be soon). But it is queer media, and the main relationship is poly, and I quite like writing both.

Second story is called Aether Drop. This one is simultaneously new and also very very old. You know that thing you did (maybe you still do) when you're a passenger in a car and you look out the window and imagine a guy running on the power lines or look at the clouds and imagine there's a massive airship up there or people walking around on top of the clouds? That is this. The airships. The sky people. When I was a kid I imagined those airships a lot. I loved Castle in the Sky and everything even close. And in order to make that image of an airship in the clouds a story, I came up with a world for it. Earth, but re-formed and inhospitable. The kind of earth humanity would never survive on, so they'd have to make big stupid helicarrier type airships to keep humanity safe but still moored to the rock they came from. And of course that would cause some serious complications for the survival of humanity, because you can't just live in the upper troposphere forever, it's not exactly hospitable. So it's about the next evolution of humanity inheriting the wreckage of the earth horizon zero dawn style (though I swear I came up with my version of the re-terraformed earth setting before horizon, they're different in practice but similar in general concept). It's told through the lens of two boys from different airships being stuck on the surface. And I wanted more eyes on it because it's been entered into a contest and I think better metrics on the fiction page might give it a better shot of getting in the top twenty out of the three hundred and forty submissions. Also just getting some actual readers on it would be nice. Like I said earlier, this kind of genre is not popular on RR.

If you're actually reading this part of this post... why? It's mostly just for me to shout at the clouds. But also. Go ahead.

I like writing Vanisher. As a story, it's special to me. It represents a lot of what I've discovered about my own identity. I started writing it when I was question whether I was cis or trans (turned out not quite either), and I thought the story would resonate with people that went through that same self-questioning process. So far it hasn't, though I'll grant anyone that's read it, transness hasn't exactly been a focal point. It's a long road from trying to fit in like a very normal cis straight person to even questioning if that's what you want to be. You have to question other aspects of who you are or think you are first. And this story is really only into those early questioning stages so far. Mostly it kind of lingers on the villains of 1) wanting to be alone so that you don't hurt other people and also wanting to not be alone because that hurts just as bad... and also everyone else kind of feels the same way, and 2) social and economic equity are sort of impossible and success in life, as nebulous as that is, does stem from the sociopolitcal station of the family you grow up in and that sucks. I like envisioning a world where you can buck the forces in life that tell you that you need to conform to survive, because there is a world out there where you actually can but it's actively being attacked by the people trying to convince you that you need to conform. And writing this kind of story, that exists in that exaggerated version of our world, makes the part of my brain that thinks about philosophy and social systems and how beautiful other people are... it makes that part of my brain happy.

And I've tried to write Aether Drop a few times. I've called it Aether, Up in the Aether, Aetherum, stuff like that. Aether Drop just sticks better (at least that's my current opinion). And I've tried to frame it as a lot of different things over its various iterations, mostly about the importance of telling stories to your kids and grandkids and leaving behind a legacy. But I don't think I've ever been set on going very far with the story itself. The longest draft I have, which isn't the one I'm currently writing, has a lot of thinking about it and has gone nowhere over a lot less words. I think I get a little too in my head with establishing story elements, and spend too much time setting things up and then getting distracted and forgetting to pay them off soon enough. But I try, above all else, to have fun with this version of this story. I was laughing to myself earlier because my shortest possible summary of the story (thus far) is "Shadow the hedgehog, Tails, and Treebeard are stuck on a mountain and there's a big cat that wants to kill them." And while it's not literally those characters, it isn't far off. I also had a good long chuckle about the character I'm describing as Treebeard poking said big cat in the nuts with a stick to ward it off, because the text kind of just spilled onto the doc without my thinking about it too hard. You know, every now and then you just let your fingers write and don't pay attention and you read it back and there's a dirty joke or something? It was like that.

#writing #world building #fiction #original fiction #hell if you read this whole post I'll openly weep.

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stesierra · 2 years ago

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Writeblr ReIntro!

I'm posting a new intro because now that I've been on Writeblr a little while, I realize how much information I left out! Hi, I'm Stephanie, I live in the desert with my husband and baby and three cats, and I'm an ace, bipolar fantasy writer! When I was a kid, they said I had ADHD but then I got my Masters degree in biology, so they claim I can't have it. Online tests say I'm probably autistic.

I used to write sci fi twelve years ago but only low tech sci fi about weird aliens, which nobody likes. Now I write fantasy novels! Lots of fantasy novels! I am beginning to post them on my website so if you want to read them, please keep an eye on this post.

My books often but not always have some romance (either m/f or f/f because I prefer female protagonists.) Since I'm ace (and demiromantic), my interpretation of romance and attraction is not exactly what you'd expect from, say, a romance novel.

I am not going to tell you about all my books! I've written eighteen! Four of them are shelved forever! Here's some recent ones (written or revised since 2018) that I haven't given up on. Please ask me questions about them! I LOVE talking about my books! Also, if you want to be added to my taglist for writing samples let me know! Please also tell me if you're interested in alpha or beta reading and for which book! Mutuals only, please!

My books are beneath the cut! As I add WIP intros, I'll update this list with links.

Cast Out

YA fantasy! On her sixteenth birthday, Zisha is cast out of the Plenary Cities for the crime of being born deaf, like her grandmother before her. In the wastelands, she meets Thesil, a depressed and bitter young woman. Zisha wants nothing to do with her — until she sees Thesil's face in a vision. But before she can find out what the visions mean or reach her grandmother's holdings in the wastes, the plague returns to the Plenary Cities. If the disabled really caused the plague thirty years ago, and were cast out to stop the spread, how can it be back when all of them are outcast?

Status: Finished. Being serialized.

WIP intro here.

Now being serialized here. First five chapters up, one posted weekly.

The Bone Queen

This is my NA fantasy about the aftermath of freeing an undead queen and her skeleton army. They take over the kingdom, of course! The main character, Elise, is trapped in Bandrum palace by Aubrey, the ghost who tricked her into falling in love and freeing him (plus everyone else.) He's an animated skeleton now with plans to marry Elise and force her to carry his children. The bone queen has promised him she'll make it happen. Too bad no one cares what Elise wants. If only she had magic of her own...

Status: undergoing a rewrite after developmental edit. Was 109k before revisions. Not available for beta reading.

Draft number? Hahahaha. It has two complete sequels (The Spellbound King (106k) and The Matriarch's Daughter (96k)) I must also rewrite. This series is going to kill me but I love it. My mom, who loves everything I write, complained that it was weird. I'm very proud.

WIP intro here.

First chapter here.

School of Souls

This is my YA contemporary fantasy about a boarding school in the Bighorn Mountains! It's supposed to be a place parents can send "bad" teens to have their problems sorted out, but secretly the founder is using it to train the kids as sorcerers. Even more secretly, the school devours the souls of the students sent there, and the teenagers who graduate aren't the same as the ones who arrived... Warning: does include teenage addiction to sleeping pills and ghosts and and parental death. It's going to have sequels but I haven't written them yet.

Status: Complete first draft. 83k. Available for alpha reading.

WIP intro here.

First chapter here.

The Many-faced Princess

This is YA fantasy with a historical vibe but set in a made up world. Vaguely inspired by ancient Phoenicia. It's about Princess Ameryi, who was blessed by the genderless trickster god, Akihel, to be able to change her face. If her father the king ever found out, he'd have to execute her, of course. Akihel is just plain evil. All the other gods say so. A daughter who's their champion? Impossible. An abomination. So Ameryi will just have to make sure her father never finds out. That was easier to do before the Asirtinsa Empire threatened to invade and her father sent her to secure an alliance with a neighboring king. She's supposed to marry him. Not steal his face and frame him for murder. But sometimes plans just don't work out.

This book was supposed to be about two lesbian princesses who frame the king for murder so they can elope, but both princesses decided to be ace and there was nothing I could do.

Status: Complete first draft. 83k. It's going to have sequels but I haven't written them yet. Available for alpha reading.

First chapter here.

Map here.

Court Phoenix

This is my NA fantasy! Kerra is a blacksmith's apprentice. Not because she wants the job, but because her mother sold her future to him when she was still a toddler who crawled into live fires and giggled as the flames consumed her clothes. Now she's a woman, trapped by the expectations of her family and her village. Until one day, a phoenix crash-lands and dies in her arms. When it's reborn, it chooses Kerra as its keeper. Soon, her dreary future is swept away. A princess from Skyfire, the moving city, offers her a job in the royal court. How could Kerra refuse? Her family's claims that she'll die if she ever leaves the village are just manipulative lies. Aren't they?

Status: Complete third draft. 104k. Available for beta reading.

First chapter here.

The Revenant Trilogy

Adult fantasy. Solving a murder should bring good fortune, but all it brings Mindral Thideet is disaster. Her fame and peaceful life as head researcher at the city of knowledge end abruptly. In retaliation for her investigation into his crimes, Payar Cheref, the head of the powerful Cheref family, burns her beloved cousins alive and scars her face. The scar marks her as a revenant, a body possessed by a godkin, one of the gods' evil children. Her life as a researcher is over. All that's left is revenge.

No one believes her when she denies that godkins have any power over her. But godkins, real ones, are far closer than she realizes. Tearing down Payar Cheref could destroy Mindral, her family, and the nation itself.

-The Halfway Revenant (rewriting draft 4) 120k. Not available for beta reading.

-The Soul-Seer (draft 2) - 130k

-The Godkin's Gambit (draft 2) 121k

First chapter here.

As Immortality Fades

Adult fantasy. Five hundred years ago, one of the immortal and unpredictable Valteifur visited the kingdom of Kathild and granted the young queen Nelone immortality. But there was a catch. She'd live forever, youthful and strong, just so long as her subjects were happy. For centuries, she's met her part of the deal. But when the Valteifur returns to check on her progress, he grants her a new gift: the resurrection of every single person in Kathild who's died in the last two hundred years. Then he disappears.

There aren't enough houses for them all. There's not enough food. And winter is here.

Status: Complete first draft. 98k. Available for alpha reading.

Bi MC, enemies to lovers.

First chapter here.

Stitches and Memories

This one's adult fantasy. Antea's father ripped her mind apart, left her for dead, and vanished twelve years ago, and she's going to find out why. But when constables try to kill her and strange truth magic grows inside of her, hunting her father starts to look like suicide. Too bad going home isn't an option.

Status: I exchanged this with a critique partner and now it embarrasses me. Fourth draft. 122k. Available for beta reading.

Trigger warning: magic seizures

First chapter here.

WIP intro here.

Triangle Park

Contemporary Fantasy. I have no idea who it's for. An elf exiled to the middle of nowhere ends up stuck with an unexpected child. It's about reluctant parenting and protecting the needy. And elves and faeries slumming it in a mobile home.

Status: Complete first draft. 86k. Available for alpha reading.

First chapter here.

Mud-Child

Adult fantasy. Rebeka has always heard that a woman who goes through menopause loses her spark (the magic that lets her create children). If she's had children, it just makes the neighbors a little more fertile. But Rebeka never wanted a man, and she never wanted to raise a child. Not since her twin sister died and her beloved Suza left her for a man. The problem is, the spark leaves a childless woman differently, everyone says. A bitter hag? She'll curse her neighbors. A sweet dim biddie? She'll give her spark to inanimate objects and create a monster. Rebeka doesn't know which she is, but she believes it's a myth.

That was before the clay in her clay pit woke up and called her mother.

Status: Third draft. 109k. Needs a rewrite! Not available for beta reading.

First chapter here.

WIP intro here.

I GUESS I'M WRITING A NEW BOOK

The Giant's Gamble

First chapter here.

I started writing this on Friday the 13th, 2023. LET'S SEE HOW LONG IT TAKES TO WRITE WITH A BABY.

Short stories

The Unfamous Dead

VERY OLD CRAP

The Scribe and the Sphinx

Adult historical fantasy

Status: second draft. Shelved for good. 85k.

The Adrift series

The River's Drift. 100k.

The Waking Mountain. 106k.

Low-tech alien sci fi. Shelved for good.

My first book whose name I forget. About 50k. Exists only as a hard copy in my parents' house.

Taglist so far (tell me if you want to be added or removed)

Tag list for everything

@harleyacoincidence

@anonymousfoz

@moremysteriesthantragedies

@elizababie

@sm-writes-chaos

@bellascarousel

@the-dragon-chronicler

@teacupsandstarlight

@vorskra

@wrenofthewords

@amostdelectablescribbler

@mysticstarlightduck

@phantommill

@gracewritesbooks

@aziz-reads

@owlsandwich

@symbioticsimplicity

@squarebracket-trick

@koala2all

@rmgrey-author

@atomatowriter

@cheerfulmelancholies

@delusionisaplace

@janec23

@writing-is-a-martial-art

@authortango

Just chapters and snippets

@da-na-hae

For The Many-faced Princess

@deadlyessencewhispers

@serenanymph

The Halfway Revenant

@acertainmoshke

For Stitches and Memories

@space-writes

@acertainmoshke

The Bone Queen

@janec23

@holdmyteaplease

@digital-chance

@thecrookedwriterspath

@tea-and-mercury

@coven-archives

I love you all!

#writeblr intro #oh my god this is long #why did I write so much #why did I do this to myself #writeblr #writing #writing community #creative writing #fantasy #writers of tumblr

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zarvasace · 10 months ago

Note

It’s “appreciate yourself” hours! Pick five pieces of writing/art that you’ve done that you love and talk about them! ❤️❤️❤️

Ahhhh okay, thank you!! 💜🌻 I finally have a free moment (aka work is slow) so I'm going to work on drafting this out :) I have far too much art I'm proud of—I'm at a stage in my progress right now where I think my art looks pretty awesome. So this list will be stuff from my Greatest Hits collection on AO3. In order of oldest to newest, I think:

incandescently happy

An LU post-adventure work, one of the first longer fics I posted. I released one chapter a day over the summer of 2022, so a lot of the notes have something about my day in them. It's about 30k all told.

I absolutely adored expanding on what the boys might do after the whole LU adventure happens (though I did forget about the fact that I think Time and Malon have a kid during this time!) This work features some proto-Shatterproof stuff, like Wind having a prosthetic leg and Four starting to specialize in crafting prosthetics/disability aids. I gave Hyrule longer hair and a job making maps for the royal family. Legend got another adventure but also started a magic garden/orchard, which pulls in more business than Ravio's stuff. Four and his grandpa adopted a single mother and her two kids. Man I went off with some of these headcanons. I've always considered writing more in this world, but I think it stands very well on its own. Maybe someday I might revisit and rewrite it with some of my new skills. :)

Rise and Shine and Fall

Whumptober 2022, focused entirely on LU! Guys this thing is almost 78k. I realize now that most people pre-plan or pre-write for things like Whumptober, but I wrote these one by one every day, which was extra-hard because I had both college classes and a day job at the time. I came up with some fun AUs, learned a lot about writing (especially whump), and proved to myself that I can do hard things like this!! I've adored doing daily challenges since, though I haven't done it in a while. I look forward to this year's whumptober though!

I really like the table of contents in the first chapter—it makes things easy to find. I know individual works are probably more accessible, but I was still getting to know AO3, and those big numbers are fun. XD I have a hard time picking favorites, because I really went off on these, but I'd say a couple of them are:

Chp 3, "Right Here" about Sky

Chp 7, "Proof of Life" about Four and Shadow

Chp 18, "I'm onwy a babey :(" about Wind

Chp 21, "6:13" about Hyrule and Time

Chp 26, "Silence is Golden" about Wild

Chp 31-32, "The Worst Thing About Earth" about Legend, but kind of more specifically the rewrite/expansion I did last year... haha...

The Marvelous Misadventures of Wind and His Merry Band or Maybe-Human Heroes

It's been a while since I updated this story (56k, 6/8 chapters), but it's constantly on my mind. I've started chapter 7 twice, and I know what I want to happen, but I am easily distracted by the siren call of some other whump fics. XD

I freaking love this story, though. I really want to finish it. It's kind of an... experiment? I guess? I want to get published someday, and I picture myself writing middle-grade novels. This story is sort of my attempt to hit that tone. Also I just love Wind so so so much. Let him be cool!!

Blood-Sucker's Guide to High School

56k Four Swords completed story! I wrote this in a frenzy of like two or three weeks, then took another two to edit. It takes plot points from a vampire novel I enjoyed and twists and applies them to a story about Shadow and the Four Swords manga boys. I'm very proud of what I accomplished here, and that it's a complete story! I think it worked out really well. I learned a lot about plotting and handling larger stories, and it helped that I had the half-remembered structure of an existing novel to use as training wheels.

I love the worldbuilding in this story! The premise is that Shadow is an evil soulless vampire from a (rather abusive, not that he sees it) family of the same, but then he gets the ability to walk in the sunshine. He's assigned to go to high school for a while to get a feast for the vampire gala, but meanwhile he's developing a conscience and getting very attached to these human boys. I think I did a good job. I love rereading this, every scene is just so fun! :)

Counterbalance

55k exactly of a stupid LU darks AU. This started life as a series of oneshots and then the plot progressively got more and more convoluted and I love these stupid boys so much. The plot is very much not tight, in contrast to Blood-Sucker's Guide, but I learned a lot about how I write and how I like to plan with this one, too.

The characters are stupid and the plot is just kinda silly and there is both a bathhouse scene AND a spa scene. Legend blows up multiple things, my lovely nasty little Dark Links need smacks and therapy, and Prince has a legitimately emotional moment at the end. I love how it turned out, it's like an ugly little stuffed animal I made and hug until the eyes pop out.

That's five but I would be extremely remiss if I did not also mention something from Shatterproof:

The Incredible Shrinking Chain

About 10k, this is entry 31/68 in my series Shatterproof, which is a close-canon AU in which each of the boys has a different physical disability. This series also plays into my publishing ambitions, because whatever I publish will very likely have some disability representation. I'm rather passionate about it, actually! Shatterproof is close to my heart, and I'm so honored that so many people seem to love it too. :) I need to work on the next entry again!!

This entry in particular is so much fun. In it, the whole Chain sans Four is stuck mouse-sized, and Four has to travel out to Twilight's castle with them to get Dusk to help break the curse. They all have to figure out how to navigate while tiny, and Four pulls some very silly stunts. I love them.

Anyway, there's my list!! I've written a lot over the last like two and a half years, and I'm so so glad that I get to be here and part of this community. The LU fandom as a whole (or at least the parts I've seen!) is so welcoming and positive and I try to give back where I can! I'm going to suggest looking through my bookmarks and ultimate rec list collection to find some new favorites from some very talented authors! :) (oof I need to update the collection soon!! I've been seeing some awesome stuff!)

#my writing #<3 #fic rec

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