#that or unpublished stuff perhaps?

[stupidlittlespirit]

glad you’re feeling better!

would you be comfortable sharing a sneak peek of the next chapter 👀

if not I totally understand please prioritize your well being!

Listen, I don't have a chapter sneak peak for you BUT..... because I'm making you all wait so long for this next chapter and I feel bad, I'm gonna give you a small snack.

This is an unpublished thingy that I posted on a little discord server that I'm in and people liked it there so I figured you might enjoy it here. It is just a very short warm-up drabble that I did ages ago and never used again. It's a bit messy and stuff, but whatever. It's set during MtB but it isn't really anything to do with the series. Just a little snippet of life within it:

I Got It Bad (and that ain't good) Rating: NSFW (only slightly) Type: Drabble Tags: Kissing, implied sexual stuff. Very, very tiny inference to muses but meant in no certain way. No pronouns/body described. Word count: 1233

When he's feeling contemplative, Ford likes to play the piano.

He is, like so many other things he turns his attention to, wonderful at it. 

Ford likes jazz. He pretends he's a classical purist but you've found the record sleeves on the shelves near his desk, you’ve done a little snooping, and you know they rarely correspond to the vinyl inside. They're just for show. He plays it mainly in the evenings when he's treating himself to a glass of scotch; he'll listen to a particular artist (this week it's been an awful lot of Duke Ellington) and then recreate it on his own instrument. 

He'll start small. Just a slow, leisurely tinkling of the ivories as he finds his rhythm, and then he'll settle into his groove and flex yet another of his many skills as you listen from another room while you tidy up.

If you're especially lucky, he'll ask you to join him and give him feedback on it. 

He doesn't care about the feedback, of course, because he knows he's good and so does everyone else, and you're sure he's just using it as an opportunity to show off but you never mind. 

He has, in typical Ford fashion, always refuted your accusation: “I assure you, I certainly am not,” he'd said one evening with a knowing smile, as you'd watched from your seat beside him. “I merely know that you like jazz and I play because you listen,” and you'd felt such an intensely affectionate warmth bloom in your chest that you'd dropped the point immediately.

(And when he had added on a quiet: “Plus, I like the way you look at me when I do it,” and you'd made him hit a bum note when you’d leant up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then, well, who can blame you?) 

Your favourite thing to do, beyond simply enjoying the melodies, is to watch his hands and fingers as he works. 

He'd been a little apprehensive at first, once he had noticed, but you had been quick to reassure him that your interest was appreciative, if perhaps salacious, and not even close to judgemental. 

“Would you be uncomfortable if I took a video?” You ask one dark winter's evening, leaning against the piano’s top while you observe him. “Just for myself, I mean.” 

“Whatever for?” Ford responds without missing a beat of his metronome. 

He's going away soon. He and Stan set sail in two days time and it’s a long trip this time, which means for four months, four long, agonising months, you’ll be without him. It’s almost too much to bear and your heart feels like lead at the thought. 

“Because I’m going to miss you and I’d like to have something to remind me of you when I feel like shit,” you say. 

The corner of Ford’s mouth curls upward a fraction and he spares you a thinly veiled, heated glance, his cheeks turning pink. “I thought our plan was to give you plenty of reminders the night before….?” 

Your stomach flutters. 

“I’d like more than bruises, if you wouldn’t mind,” you say, biting down on a smile. 

Ford laughs under his breath and after a moment, says: “And it’s just for you? The video?” 

“Of course,” you reassure him. “I don’t have to, I just…. Your hands are my favourite part of you and I think about them, often.” 

Too often, some might say. 

Ford laughs again, a little louder this time. “Not my dashing good looks?” he teases. “Or my dazzling personality? You wound me, my dear.” 

You grin. “All of the above,” you say with a shrug. “But especially your hands.” 

“Is that so?” Ford says, taking one hand from the keys to pat the empty space beside him. “And what, pray tell, do you think about them?” 

You go where he asks, taking up a seat at his side obediently. “Lots of things.” 

“Such as….?” 

He’s fishing for compliments, you both know it, but does sound genuinely curious, too. 

“I think they’re the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen,” you say, giving him exactly what he wants. “And I think about how they fit in mine. I think about how they feel, how your thumb rubs over my knuckles when we hold hands and how your little finger does the same on the sides, you know, just because you can do that….”

“Anything else?” Ford asks, voice warm. 

You smile, eyes transfixed on the way his fingers tick across the ivory. “And…. I like to think about how you hold my thighs when you have your head between them. The way you hold onto my hips. How your fingers taste when you put them in my mouth.” 

Ford makes a soft sound, somewhere between a contented sigh and an aroused groan, and his hands falter momentarily before he restarts his playing. 

“Is that so?” he says, hoarse. 

“Mm,” you hum absentmindedly. Your head is full of those same thoughts right now, your mind’s eye blurred with the memories of Ford’s fingers climbing underneath your jeans and inching past your underwear. Of touching you so intimately that you have to press your thighs together slightly to sate the longing. 

Ford catches it. 

“You’re thinking about it right now,” he mutters, and his tone holds no question.

He’s stopped playing. His hands are frozen over the keys. 

“Aren’t you?” you answer, eyes still on them. 

Ford exhales slowly through his nose, shaky,  restrained. “I’m always thinking of you,” he says simply. 

You tear your eyes away to look up at him, only to find that his gaze is already on you. 

Ford’s eyes are molten, half-lidded and hot, and they flick down to your mouth and back up to your own. 

“You’re terrible,” he says, in such a way that it’s obvious he means it in the most complimentary context possible. “A terrible, terrible influence on an old man like me.” 

A smirk creeps onto your face. It’s always satisfying to see the effect you have on him. “I can leave, if you’d like me to. I have plenty to do and I-!” 

Ford pushes the stool back with one leg, your combined weights little more than a minor  inconvenience to him, and he hauls you into his lap before you can even finish the thought. 

You laugh, loud and bright, and fling your arms around his neck to hold on tightly to him and avoid sending you both to the floor in a heap. “Or not,” you concede. 

“Never,” agrees Ford, and then he’s kissing you. 

It’s slow and tender and white hot as always. 

You can feel his arousal press between your legs and it’s enough to make you smile against his mouth. 

“What a dirty old man you’ve become,” you say dramatically, nudging your nose against his. 

“I'm only what my muse makes of me,” Ford says raggedly. “And you are an awfully seductive force, you know….” 

“So I've been told,” you smile, one hand wandering below to palm him gently through his slacks. 

Ford groans, low and deep, and tilts his head back. “I'll make a deal with you,” he says quietly. “I swore off them a long time ago but just for you, just this once: if you keep doing that, I'll let you take footage of any fucking thing you like….” 

You grin. 

“Deal.” 

[crow-caller]

It's so weird (I lack a better word) to have Leftover book projects as a writer. I have a four book series which at this point is nearly a decade old, like 300k of words, which I'll never publish, or return to to rewrite. It won't be read, probably not even by me. But it sure exists, and was so much of my life at the time. I have two other complete, unpublished manuscripts in the same state. They're not good enough to self publish, so they just... exist forever, yknow?

There's some good bits and ideas and sections of writing, some of which I could perhaps reuse one day, but I don't know and couldn't say!

For nostalgia, here's a longass bit of rambling about all my never published books:

First, I... actually, only as I type this, believe some of them may still be uploaded on wattpad or fictionpress. I wouldn't recommend them, I have still affection for what they were to me and what their potential is, but don't bother hunting them down

The Terminal Quartet

Each book was named after a horticultural term, including 'Terminal'. This threw everyone off, but I was taking a horticulture class in high school and was inspired! My memory is vague but I was probably about 15 when I wrote the first book, then about 16, 17, and 19 for the others. I wrote Termi1 at the same time i was writing angel radio, which was traditionally published— there's still a post on THIS tumblr from the time where I lament AR was way more popular on fictionpress despite me liking Terminal more.

Terminal was.... a lot, tone wise, genre wise. It was comedy but with a lot of drama, violence, even gore, and hard themes.

Terminal

A misanthropic worker in Hell decides to quit, stealing a recent human. Mannie was this annoying, weird, character i really cared for, and my first time really thinking about an aroace (and agender) character— a long time before I felt i could ID as anything. The book was a lot of walking and talking and didn't quite have momentum or purpose, as Mannie toured this underground Hell which was oddly not supernatural... despite shape-shifting hellhounds and people with horns.

Eventually it comes out the demons (and angels) are these lab experiments, Hell is a bunker, and everyone's kind of forgotten this do to an EXTREMELY convoluted 19 year time loop that only affected the earth's surface but not hell or the present non-looping earth angels lived in. That time loop was my bane, I still recall the genius moment in art class where I figured it all out... and it never really made sense again. Despite that, symboligically, the weird loop was really important— the series was all about people stuck in cycles of behaviour and the past. The loop was also key to the plot, so I couldn't ever edit it out or change it really.

It turned out Mannie was one of the original people involved in the incident that created the loop. This desperately lonely but in denial immortal, who needs acknowledgement but instead is perpetually a side character to more important people doing important things

“What’s wrong?” “A lot,” I said, and I felt like this was it. This was enough. I could probably live with never speaking again if it meant those would be my last words. Blake was there with me, and in another few seconds, like everything else in my life, that too had passed. In the damp darkness of October, the morning before Halloween, I balled my fists up and shivered in the wind, cold under the light of the new moon, alone in a shifting forest. Thinking of a tampered clock and the boy who hadn’t known. In another few seconds, it was spring, and I was warm, and besides the world, nothing else had changed.

Radicle

Man so many people assumed this was a typo.

Radi was my most read story, eclipsing terminal by a lot. It was stand alone enough to do so. To this day, my mom who read all my stuff, mentions radicle and how she liked it best, including over my actually published and edited stuff.

Radi was about Nichael. All the books were a close 1st person POV, as i looooved writing strong character voices. Nichael was an angel, who witnessed something never specified around the cult leader angel Michael. So began a pretty weird psychosexual ambigipus something, where Nichael is sent to Hell as an ambassador, begins to learn the truth about Michael, and yet keeps returning to him.

Nichael even learns the truth of himself, how a demon he meets is his actual forgotten sister, and he still kills her and dies in Michael's arms... but ensures a peace deal between heaven and hell, so other angels can escape. Radi was fun. I really enjoyed the angelic cult-ure. Michael was the guy the cycles were based around, eternally 19, very mentally ill, my favourite wretched blorbo...

Evergreen

This was a novella, and the final one i wrote. I finished it during my first year in uni.

After heaven and hell have peace, all the angels have moved into hell's city. It followed Michael, and his tumultuous existence as this still worshipped cult leader god.... but now that love is more pity, if not hate, as the angels have seen his hypocrisy and lies. He's having a mental health spiral when someone identical to Nichael shows up, who winds up being this weird amnesiac shapeshifter? It's a very strange story about identity and self, but i really really liked it, and it was pretty fitting for a difficult time in my life.

Umbel

Look I'm rambling approximate summaries, umbel was a lot more going on. It wasn't stand alone and tied things together. Characters returned, events recycled though ever different. The 20 year peace anniversary is a contentious time. A new hellhound is trying to keep the peace and begins to realize everyone important in hell knows him somehow. Mannie is there, barely disguised, and no one recognises them (because I didn't know i was faceblind I just never considered how weird that was).

I’ve always been a lost cause, and I’ve long accepted it to be a fundamental part of my personality. It’s not depressing to me, and never was. I’ve simply always been called one since before my memory began, and it’s become nothing more than a standard fit label to me at this point. Still, I sort of figured that when I got to Hell and away from my family, things would be sort of different. Old traditions wouldn’t be able to follow. And yet- Well, okay, no one had yet to call me a lost cause, but I promise, that day was coming. Because I was really fucking bad at my job.

It had a kinda happy ending after a lot of devastation. That's my favourite kind.

The Ascension

This was a joke originally. I looked at my old Mary Sue esque ocs and storyline, and on a joke with a friend, tried to write a more serious version. Most of the plot just wasn't anything, but there were bits I was really into, and it became the basis of my DND world!

The first image is what Aster looked like in my head as a kid, the second is the protagonist of the Ascension

A girl (very autistic coded, aromantic but not ace— i didn't feel comfortable IDing as anything for a long time, but I had interesting patterns as a youth, huh) embarks on a holy, always-doomed quest to awaken her country's sacred God of the Sea. She has been chosen to succeed, though she doesn't know it yet— chosen long ago to suffer and ascend into godhood herself, to destroy her world and be the next all-god in a cycle of deities and experimentation.

It was a mix of fantasy and unexpected sci-fi, as it came to light the current all-god of the sky was once mortal too, taken by an interdimensional scientist and altered into godhood. This is Aster's inescapable fate.

And the being running this experiment?? Um. Mew from pokemon. The sky god is ho-oh. The other two are groudon and kyogre. Yeah, I said this was based on childhood ocs, remember!

One Dead Girl

This is my most recent project, a high fantasy YA based on some of my dnd stuff. Illuzi was a noble girl with demonic blood, whose mother shaved her horns until hiding it became too risky. Her death was faked and she was abandoned. Years later, the irresponsible, mad bigender prince(ss) she was once in love with recruits her for a mission at the Palace, and she uncovers the truth of her nation's eternal war with demons— it is all a farce, the rulers of both sides in a contract to keep the war going as a tool of control.

The princess manipulates illuzi to kill the king and queen so he can seize power, aiming to inspire the people to revolt in his mad reign— while a betrayed Illuzi leaves to the Hellmouth, hoping for a place she could ever belong

There once was a story I knew very well, about a girl who had everything in the world and just a little bit more. That was the sort of story you relied on when you were not born right. Even if you did not look like the blonde girl on the cover, with her gossamer gowns and long straight hair. When the world was cruel you had to read stories where more than half of it was the part about being saved, where even the villains would exposit on the wonders of your heart, where your heart was any good at all in a world of selfishness and apathy. That was the story, at least, I had relied on. In the story of Princess Illuzi, a lovely girl is turned into a monster because she is too perfect to exist. She is beloved- kind, generous, and beautiful- and for this a fiend seeks out and punishes her. Fiends see the good, pure things in the world and writhe in jealousy. Yet always the fiend is defeated, and the princess is saved, and her kingdom had missed her very, very much. I did not think my home missed me when I’d left. I did not think the garden realized the child who picked her flowers had disappeared, or the non-existent pixies noticed no new houses were being built from sticks and stones. The moths did not realize they were no longer getting bedtime stories, and the stuffed animals did not mourn nights in warm beds. I’d never been missed. Not even Alessandra had missed me. Not in the proper way, the way it is in stories: they kiss and fall in love and get married in the morning and every person in the world is happy for them. I marched, ever slowly, north. To the land where bad stories came from, and to a city that might welcome me at last.

One Dead Girl 2 (Here Comes The Dragon? End The Halycon Days? Title never picked)

This one i wrote only 20k of or so. Illuzi arrives to the Hellmouth. She learns demons are born from the pain and negative feelings of the world, that strong ones are made from consuming the weak, that blood controls blood, that... there's a sentient pool of blood and visera they were all born from known as MOTHER LACRIMAAS

She. To know her as anything else would be ridiculous, I knew who she was and I recognized her in myself, where she had always been- she was, and she was. There in the blood and ooze and the sea of teeth and children, there she was. I was curled over and under and she came to me and I understood why everyone was watching from the shore with such sadness in their gazes, and I understood why I had been made to meet her. I understood. I hated it. O Mother Lacrimaas, hater of us all- I knew her, for she was my blood, and she was everything wrong with me, and she climbed into my skin with a million bloody fingertips and made her home in my hollow little heart.

Also there was a giant bat person from across the world who was maybe going to be a love interest.

I, um, had a really vivid dream about falling in love with an alien bat around this time and woke up like "i need to put this in my book"

The last book, which i had some notes for, was going to be called EATER OF CHAINS or so.

[irithiadourden]

First line tag

Ok, after playing Calanmine for hours I can finally sit and do this. Thank you @aurorasleeps-27, @makinglongwordsslutty, @sonics-atelier and @thesourcabbage for the tag! I loved seeing your creations, you are such talented people.

I have a lot of wips and stuff I never posted so it's a mix of published and unpublished stuff, but the first thing I found. Also a lot of Tamlin because it was Tamlinweek ❤️ And...it's the first paragraph because I liked it better than just the first line xDD

A beast of fire (Azris, in process, I'm working hard on this one because I want to have it ready before I post it, there's also going to be a lot of Nesta, TamCien and the Night Court finally being held accountable for the things they do).

What only a few years ago had been a splendid mansion, a bastion of spring beauty, and one of the most magnificent buildings Eris had ever seen in his life, was now little more than a ruin. The first thing he noticed when he crossed the border that separated the two courts was the lack of security: no guards, no patrols. It was as if the land had been completely abandoned. Even one of the small villages bordering Autumn, where he remembered wandering through on more than one occasion in search of information on Lucien, was now little more than a ghost town. Its inhabitants had probably fled to whatever court had taken them in after the war.

Too sweet (TamlinxTarquin, completed)

It seemed as if time did not pass in this part of the forest. Nature took its course, but everything was always calm, serene, in its place. Birds moved between the treetops and some fawns grazed at the edge of the waterfall that led to a small lake. In the early hours of the morning, the sun filtered through the leaves, giving everything an unearthly hue, a light somewhere between emerald and iridescent.

No manners (TamlinxEris, completed)

Eris watched him like a predator watching its prey, trying to decide if it was worth the hunt or if the time was not right. It had been months, since he had become Autumn's High Lord, that he had been working with Tamlin to help him rebuild his court.

Shelter (TamlinxLucien, in process)

After the war with Hybern, there had finally begun to be hope for a lasting peace in Prythian. Getting back on their feet after such a thing was no easy task for any of the courts, but especially for the one that had already suffered devastation before they all had to unite to stop the enemy advances. The treachery of Feyre had made the morale of her soldiers almost nonexistent, even prompting several small villages on the border with Autumn and Summer to be completely abandoned and their subjects to seek refuge in those lands. Support for Tamlin, who had always been seen as a just ruler willing to fight for what he believed was right, had turned to suspicion: who could support someone who had forced Feyre Cursebreaker to flee?

A youngest brother's duty (In process, Lucien playing matchmaker with Tamlin and Eris, because he loves them and they are two idiots who don't realize anything. There's also LucienxNesta in the background because I LOVE them together)

So far this day had been all about people moving around, arranging things, setting stuff up, putting up decorations, and laughter filling the air. Spring Court was gearing up for another Rain Festival, and Lucien knew this would be the perfect opportunity to follow through with his plan.

Azris (No name at the moment, I would like to have some chapters ready for the Azris week)

Fire was a living thing that crackled in his veins. It had been a long time, perhaps decades, since he had allowed his true flame to take shape. It was a fine line, the balance between not breaking before his father's tactics and not appearing too powerful. If Beron had believed that his heir was becoming a threat, he would have taken it upon himself to assassinate him with his bare hands. But he couldn't be careless; it wasn't just his life that was at stake —or what was important to him— but also that of his mother and his siblings.

Never Enough (LucienxNesta, in process, maybe I'll post it this week for NestaWeek but I don't know).

"Talk to me as a friend, as a lover. Lie to me, scream at me, tell me how much you hate me. Please never hold anything back. Tell me how much you adore me, or that you loathe the very sound of my voice. Make my name a psalm, a song or a curse. I can bear your love, anger or hate. But I will never, never be able to bear your indifference."

The cut that always bleed (ViktorxJayce, in process)

Viktor knew he was destined to fail until he took a break. His brain was protesting the lack of sleep and his back seemed determined to make his life miserable, or at least to make him give up his place in front of that blackboard full of formulas and various notes that he and Jayce had written in the last week.

The letters I never sent (AzrielxEris, in process)

In those moments, on the verge of waking up, when we are just a dream away, and your breath is mine and my heartbeat is yours, that is when I let myself imagine, just for a moment, that you love me too. Oh how sweet, how intoxicating. That hopeless, pitiful instant in which you and I are so close, and I can say "I love you" and you would say it back. That part of my mind that is always thinking about you, misses your dearly, and even if you are away, I'll settle with this fraction of you, that is more mine that yours.

Skin and bones (GalexMinthara, in process)

Gale took a moment to admire her. Her white hair cascaded down her back like a silver waterfall, giving way to ethereal skin. He knew what it felt like to hold her between his fingers, knew what it felt like to be at her feet, begging for an ounce of her affection. He could plead and remain on his knees for a lifetime if it meant he could kiss her again, he could worship the ground she walked on if it would only grant him the joy of looking at her forever, until his last breath tore him from this life.

If you've already been tagged, sorry, otherwise I'd love to see what you've been working on lately! @thornsinwinter, @olenvasynyt, @wovendreamscapes, @invaderdreyar, @wrraccountant, @icey--stars.

If you are seeing this and want to do it, considered yourself tagged!

[kentuckyfriedmegumi]

fanfic writer interview

thank you @uriekukistan for tagging me!

no pressure tags @yearnwormwrites @hijinks-n-lowjinks @fluffy-bacon363 and @philosophiums <33

How many works do you have on AO3?

i have 14 works; 13 are for jjk and 1 is just a writing exercise thing i wrote

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Itadori Yuji's Totally Foolproof Plan to get Fushiguro Megumi to Fall In Love with Him

Closing the Distance

is it gay if our pinkies are intertwined?

Too Soon?

I Have to Protect You

all of them are jjk itafushi works!! yuji's plan is my first fanfic piece i've ever written!

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes!!! i try my best to but lskdjflsd sometimes it gets ahead of me or life gets all wonky. i really do try tho, and most of the time i'm pretty responsive <3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

oh for sure it has to be To See You Again. it's an alternate ending to What I'd Give, and i've had ppl argue that that one is sadder, but i feel like (without getting into spoilers) the lack of resolution leaves this one feeling a bit more bleak. i felt bad writing it.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

probably yuji's plan, even tho it's an ongoing series. it's only "ongoing" bc of a series of spin-off one-shots that follow the ending, but they are all pretty happy. the series overall has very light angst too, but if not yuji's plan, then perhaps Closing the Distance.

Do you write crossovers?

naur but i have considered writing characters in other universes. idk tho, seems intimidating.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not hate in the traditional sense where someone is actively disliking my story or writing, but i do regularly get jumped by my readers for my angsty stuff. i wouldn't call it hate tho.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

naur and i probably never will, but i do have little FLIES IN MY EARS that want me to.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

last i checked, naur. but im keeping an eye out bc im willing to throw hands over it ksfdjsdl

Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but i've had someone ask me if i ever will. i can't do the translating, but it would be cool if one of mine were.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

YES OMFG!!!! @sunnyyflowerrs and i wrote pinkies together and it was SOOO MUCH FUN!!!! it's crazy like how well our writing styles meshed together, and i really liked working with her. i'm her number 1 fan fr so like this was just a dream to me. i loveee it and it's my third most liked fic!!!! i'd lovee to work with her again, and there are also some other writers that i hope to work with!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

itafushi literally sucked me into the ao3 rabbit hole like nobody's business. i never read fan fiction ever in my life before june, and then next thing i know i'm writing a multi-chapter fic in august. now i have 13 itfs works and kfm socials on like. every app. crazy how that works.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

i don't know if there's one that i don't think i'll ever finish. i hope to try and finish all of my works eventually, i guess the *only* thing that i could really think to put here is just that the yuji's plan one shots are going to keep going til i run out of ideas.

What are your writing strengths?

the kfm trio: angst, miscommunication, and tension. i feel like i really do well with tension, but i've been told that when my angst hits, it hits. also currently have my readers tweaking out in CTD with the miscomm, so we got the holy trinity.

What are your writing weaknesses?

my prose and descriptors are a work in progress. i feel like it can come out sounding clunky and it's really hard to get the flow right. that's what i'm struggling with in skinny dipping, an unpublished wip of mine. the more i work on it, tho, the better it gets.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

oh goodness, i would be soooo bad at it i fear. the only other language that i know is american sign language ahahaha, so the best that i could do is accurately capture inumaki signing in ASL kajsdfldsk the closest i get is using when i use -chan or -sensei in dialogue, but i don't use it anywhere else.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

OH MY GOD I SWEAR I WILL WRITE A SHIGUANG FIC FOR LINK CLICK OMFGGG THE POTENTIAL THERE IS CRAZYYYYY I NEEDDDD TO WRITE IT however, i must pace myself and finish skinny dipping first, and also probably closing the distance before i even try to start writing a new fic, much less for a new fandom. oh also kagehina is slowly creeping up on me the more i watch haikyuu... i can feeeeel it

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

currently, it's actually Hot Off the Press teehee. it's a fun, low-pressure fic that i can self-indulge in and use my degree for! it's been a ton of fun writing and i really like being able to pull stuff that i learned for this story. also it's just a fun story to write teehee

[physalian]

Dialogue Tags Are Not Optional

I think I read too much fanfic. I must. Because fanfic has given me an unrealistic expectation of properly tagged dialogue that burgeoning authors of original fiction continue to disappoint.

Dialogue tags are not optional. I don’t care what genre or age range you’re writing for. This is for all books everywhere and a rare blanket writing statement that I think is absolutely valid and without exception.

Now.

You can, of course, go 2-3 exchanges between two characters ***that have distinct voices or arguments*** without tagging and the reader can presume before you pick it back up again, but any further and you’re losing out on so much narrative.

You wrote a book, not a screenplay.

Beyond even “Character said” while “said” isn’t dead, you must break up your giant-ass monologues with either movement, introspection, or sensory details. This is not optional.

How much and how fluffy your narrative is, is up to you, but I am so so sick of sitting through an entire speech and completely forgetting where the speaker is, what time it is, who’s in the room around them, what they were doing before they started speaking, and what they should be doing instead of preaching on their soapbox.

A thirteen-year-old writing smut between two hot anime boys for the first time can do better than some of the unpublished original books I have read by mature adults.

Why?

You are telling a fictional story, that means as many details as possible should be reflecting back on the story in a meaningful way. You don’t need ten layers of symbolism but if you’re going to have your character talk at-length about any given topic, whether it’s Tragic Backstory stuff or exposition about the MacGuffin or how the West was won, all of that information is meaningless if it doesn’t tell me anything about the character speaking it.

What does this information mean to them? Why are they delivering it now? How do they understand their audience, and how might their delivery be different with this audience over someone else? What are they not saying? What are they saying without saying? And what tone of voice, facial expression, and body language do they have when speaking?

Tag your dialogue. I don’t care how compelling the Tragic Backstory is, if the character is saying it soullessly.

Beyond that, go too long devoid of grounding your dialogue in the scene and you end up with readers forgetting important details like I mentioned above, like where the character is standing when they’re speaking. Are they home? Outside? In their kitchen in a bathrobe, or in a suit in their office?

And beyond, beyond that, if you don’t tag your dialogue and give some sensory and physiological details about the narrator, your audience will have no idea what tone of voice to read any of it with. You know how it should sound, but the words themselves are barely half the message. It’s the tone of voice, what words are emphasized and what isn’t spoken but instead given through gesture and expression that paints the whole picture.

Where’s that post that goes something like “this sentence means 7 different things depending on the word you stress” and the sentence is:

“I never said she stole my money.”

I never said, implying that someone else did but that the speaker believes it

I never said, implying that this is a complete denial of an accusation and they won’t stand for it

I never said, implying that the speaker has been quite vocal indirectly or perhaps passive-aggressively about the stolen money, or that the thief is blowing things out of proportion

I never said she, implying that there is indeed a thief, but it’s not this girl and the accuser has the wrong target.

… stole my money, implying that the thief may have gotten the funds legitimately, but it still leaves the speaker miffed that they haven’t been reimbursed

… stole my money, implying that the thief stole from someone else, but the speaker is involved nonetheless, and perhaps gave them money legitimately, but now the thief has actually robbed someone

… stole my money, implying that the thief sure stole something, alright, it just wasn’t money.

See? See?

Tag your dialogue. And use italics when necessary. But mostly. Tag your dialogue.

[gilverrwrites]

ok so this is my self indulgent request; the reader is black mask's girl and he gets jealous and annoyed when the riddler keeps flirting with her. i know that man would be seething lmao.

Easy To Lose

Black Mask/Reader/The Riddler, ≈900 words

A/N: You're speaking my language. Although, while I've been playing with some unpublished Riddler stuff, this is the first time I've posted him in sooooooo long, I hope I still do him justice - even if he is a little shit in this lmao. Also is HoH, I will die on that hill. Anyway, I really hope this scratches the right itch for you 💚

The Riddler takes his opportunity to chat you up when Roman is otherwise occupied. Rating: 18+

CWs: Swearing, name calling (freak, coward, pussy), unhealthy/toxic relationships, jealousy/possessiveness, allusions to (kinky) sex, allusions to violence. Reader is GN but hair longish hair.

Please remember: as long as you're trying, you're probably doing better than you think.

Alerted by the muffled sound of a familiar voice you cock your head up, greeted by the smiling face of Edward Nygma, sitting in the unoccupied side of your booth. Roman who is sitting beside you does not offer the same courtesy, too engrossed in sending an email on his phone. If he’d even noticed Ed at all. The thickness of his mask made Roman hard of hearing at the best of times. Combine that with the loud thrum of the club’s music, and Roman was often lost to the world if he wasn’t looking right at it. 

“Huh?” You lean over the table, turning your head to the side, indicating for him to clarify.

“I said;” Ed follows your lead, leaning in until his lips are close enough to press to your ear. His breath is warm, and steeped with the sweet smell of alcohol, something with gin if you had to guess. “What is rarer, and more valuable than gold, but easier to lose?”

Tongue in cheek you glance back at Roman, who remains undisturbed, despite his passive hold on your back having been broken. You wonder how he’ll react when he finally realises what is going on, he’d never been a fan of The Riddler. Ed had never bothered you so much, yes, he could be egotistical and yes, he loved to patronise, but he was also fun, especially when there were drinks involved. Perhaps your time in the bed of Gotham’s underworld had tainted one too many red flags green. 

Turning back to Ed you shrug and ask; “What?”

Without missing a beat Ed reaches a hand up and twirls a finger in a stray lock of your hair. He massages it between his thumb and forefinger bringing it to his nose, and inhaling the scent with his eyes closed. You don’t mind the anticipation, watching his coy smile as he eventually drops your hair, and taps his finger to your nose as he gives you your answer. “You, my dear.” 

You laugh. You bat his shoulder playfully and laugh, and laugh, and laugh until you feel the smooth, hard press of leather cup the back of your neck. Your body freezes, all for your head which turns slowly to face Roman, who has finally clocked onto Ed's presence, his near-black eyes boring into you beneath the shadows of his mask’s sunken eyeholes. 

“What is this?” Unlike Ed, his voice can be heard over the music, likely by anyone in a half mile radius. Although, it occurs to you now that he and Ed had very different intentions.   

Before you can answer, Ed jumps in, always eager to hear the sound of his own voice, or to stir the pot. Probably both. 

“I simply saw this poor dear looking neglected, and thought to myself, who better to offer them some much deserved attention than myself. You ought to be more careful Sionis, lots of people around who might want to steal this one away. Decent, meritorious people.”

Ed reaches up to your hair once more but before he can make contact, Roman pulls you back by the scruff of your neck until you’re snug beside him again, fingers still digging into your soft skin. He’d never pull or squeeze hard enough to really hurt you, at least not outside the bedroom, but there is enough force in it to offer you a warning, to tell you he’s not happy. 

“I can’t hear a word that freak’s talkin’ about.” He informs you. He can tell he’s trying to act calm, but his duel grip on your neck and the wood of the table proves otherwise. His neck is taught and red as he juts his jaw back and forth. “So, I’m gonna ask you this once, you think real hard about what comes out of that pretty little mouth of yours alright? What’s he been sayin’ to you?”

You don’t need to think hard about it. You’re only going home with one of them tonight, and you want to stay on his good side, and if your confession fuels his fire, so be it. Ed wasn’t the only one who could stir a pot. 

The wood of his mask is rigid and cool as you press your lips to the spot that covers his ear. “He said I’m rare, and valuable, and that he wanted to steal me away from you.” 

“He fuckin’ what.” It’s not a question, it’s an expletive, a threat. In seconds Roman is on his feet ready for a fight, but when you both look over, Ed is gone. Swallowed amongst the sea of clubbers. His bright green attire blending in amongst the ever-changing lights of the club. 

“Fuckin coward,” Roman yells, slamming his fists on the table. His chest heaves as he processes his next step, as he decides if he’s going to go after him or not. You help in his decision-making by resting your hand on his wrist and tugging until he looks at you. His eyes dart back and forth between you and the crowd before he gestures to the sea of people. “Is that the kinda man you want baby? A goddamn pussy? Tryin’ to move in on what’s mine and can’t even face me.”

“No…” You coo, shaking your head. When he settles back into the booth you shuffle close to him again. “You know I only want you.”

“Fuckin’ right you do.” He runs a firm hand through your hair until he finds the soft spot at the nap of your neck where he locks his fingers in, using it to pull you even closer. “Guess I’ll have to stake my claim another way. For tonight.” 

Request Info || Prompts || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

[prikarin]

Unpublishing my Patreon Page

COPYPASTING WHAT I ANNOUNCED ON MY PATREON!

Hello, everyone!

It's been a while, hasn't it?

Unfortunately, it's just like you read on the title... I'll be unpublishing my Patreon page for an indefinite amount of time.

I don't know if I'll ever return to Patreon, but currently it's very tricky for me to maintain. I've already been on a Patreon hiatus for around 4 months; I feel it's a bit pointless to keep pausing the billing at the start of every month.

This was not an easy decision by any means, I've been contemplating it for a while. I tried to post as much as I could, thought of cool stuff that might be interesting to share, planned ahead... I tried a lot of things.

But, truth be told, most of the members I got came when I was working on Where Winter Crows Go. Once the game was released... this Patreon kept going downhill.

As hard as it is to admit it, I don't have a big audience. And without a big audience, Patreon is just extremely hard to maintain and not very motivating to work on. It's mentally taxing.

This isn't anyone's fault, of course! Things sometimes just don't work out the way we hoped and that's okay! Be that as it may, as much as I want to keep being positive, I have to be realistic.

Perhaps when I manage to get a bigger audience I might come back here. But for now, I think this is a good place to stop.

As for the credits on Killer Trait, don't worry, I have the names of all my Patrons who were members for at least 3 months! So you'll be added there once the game is finished <3

I'll be unpublishing my page on December 2nd.

Thank you so much for your support throughout 2023 and 2024!!

PS: For those who'd like to keep supporting me, remember I have a Ko-Fi!  

PS 2: The voiced interview rewards will be going on sale together with the artbooks.

Oz's interview will have to wait since I want to finish Killer Trait first and then the artbook, but I've already talked to Reece (Crowe's VA) about Crowe's interview and he agreed on letting me sell it after we worked on a commercial fee. So you'll be able to buy it on Itch io!

[fantasyfantasygames]

Sorcerer Cats

Sorcerer Cats, Magicat1666, 2017

The Warriors novel series, perhaps better known among middle-schoolers of a certain age as Warrior Cats, was extremely popular in the mid 2010s. So naturally someone wanted to cash in. I'd call it an homage or a tribute or say that it "pulled inspiration from," but no, it's a hack job. Sorcerer Cats was written by someone with no idea what Warriors was about. The clan names are almost the same, the locations are knockoffs,

First off, the characters in Sorcerer Cats are humanoid.

I know, right? Like, I don't feel like I need a "next off" after that.

Let's just get into the rules part. Sorcerer Cats is a bit OSR - it has the standard six attributes, levels, HP. It simplifies all saves to a 50-50 shot. No attack roll, just a "damage save". Combat works basically the same.

Instead of OD&D's usual four classes, we have Sorcerer (Wizard), Templar (Cleric), Songblade (Elf) (Elf was the warrior-mage half-caster class back in the day), and Treewalker (Druid). An unpublished supplement was to add a half-caster Cleric and a necromancer, where they totally fumbled the chance to use the word "Nekomancer" (thank you, Monstress).

The spells themselves are reskinned OD&D spells. Haste is Ferocious Agility, Detect Invisible becomes Scent of the Unseen, Speak with Plants becomes Hear the Wild, the cure-type spells require grooming, etc. Fireball, Lightning Bolt, and a few others are identical. There's no Light spell because you are cats and you can see in the dark.

Your characters explicitly have some cat-like abilities and drawbacks. You can leap very high. You get a bonus to stealthy actions, but if you're caught it's assumed that you forgot to hide your tail. This is accurate to life, can confirm. You get some minor bonuses based on your "race", like Maine Coon or Stripey.

...you know, I do sort of wonder whether Magicat1666 went into this with a more sincere homage, got a bunch of art where the artist Didn't Understand The Assignment™, and rebuilt the game the best they could around it. The art is very well-done, in a quite professional painterly style. It doesn't have any of the... for lack a better word, "bite" of the Warriors novel series. If I ended up with some really beautiful art for a game that I had different ideas for, and I couldn't just request a re-do, I might make this kind of change myself.

I was sadly too old to be in on the Warrior Cats craze, but what I'd really like to see is a heartfelt take on the "Young Wizards" series spinoff about magical cats. Diane Duane does a fantastic job with non-human characters (Mr. Athendë! K's't'lk!) and The Book of Night with Moon is just dripping with fun stuff to play around with.

[colleybri]

Last line game

Thank you for the tag, @space-blue !

My current WIP is very much IP but here’s something from a previous very early draft of what eventually became Truths and Consequences … that will probably find its way into the next one in some form (it’s a kinda Bixcassian follow up to the Brassian… but actually more Gen as it’s a Just Friends thing). Like a lot of my fics it’s set in the post-Sipo & Mimban “missing years” . Context effectively summed up as: Cassian has been a total dick to his loved ones again Because He’s Broken and In Denial but they and we love him anyway.

Under the cut.

But Cassian wasn’t there. Bix walked the perimeter, knowing not to cross into the restricted areas, but could see no sign of his slight frame among those of the somewhat burlier Grapplers as they worked away on what looked like the remains of a huge Mon Calamari cruise ship. Her parents had apparently had a trip around the Naboo sector, once, on one of these. A wedding-holiday. They had said they had enjoyed it and by some more recent calculations Bix was able to wonder if she had been conceived on board.

Anyway. There was Brasso, at least. He spotted her and came over, removing his gloves as he walked. Bix had of course already contemplated talking to Brasso so she found it relatively easy to say “Where’s Cass? I’d like to talk with him” and even to smile to show that her feelings towards both of them were peaceable.

Brasso’s expression was immediately rueful. “Sorry to say he’s not here. He got fired last week. Kept turning up late. Fodim gave him a warning but he didn’t seem to care.”

“Oh,” was all Bix could say. She had immediate and unwelcome mental images of the reasons why Cass was repeatedly late, and looked away across the breakage yard as if hoping that she might be distracted by the ugly sights there.

She looked back when Brasso sighed again and shuffled a little closer. He was a big man and Bix had to tilt her head to meet his gaze, but it was worth it as his expression now was so kind, so understanding. So… honest. “Bix,” he said, “I’m so sorry things didn’t work out for you and Cass. I know it’s no comfort but he really didn’t mean to hurt you. I think he’s just… kind of thoughtless. Genuinely doesn’t think things through sometimes. Weird thing is, he’s so clever in many ways. When he did show up here, and when he did put his mind to the job he was absolutely brilliant at it - had a real eye for the valuable stuff and caught a few things we might have sent to the furnaces. But relationships… I think he’s pretty, um, inexperienced. I mean, you know - with the emotions. All that side of it. Like he… doesn’t know what to do with them. So he’s sometimes an idiot because of that.” Brasso appeared to redden a little here. As far as Bix knew, Brasso was a stranger to the whole relationships thing too, or perhaps he was just more skilled than most Ferrixians at keeping his private life private. Either way, she sensed his sincerity in all this.

It was her turn to sigh. “I thought I knew him. I really did. I trusted him completely. The weird thing is, I think I still have this instinct to trust him. But not… not like this. As a friend. I just want to be friends again. I miss him. I miss… how it was before.”

I ended up ditching this (getting very soso opera-y tbh) to have it told by implication instead so I suspect the follow-up will be taking a similar route with me publishing about one page for each 10 I write! But the Cruise Ship will be a thing.

Tagging @distressednoise as I think she’s cooking up something particularly tasty … ditto @laneboyheathens @notasapleasure. and although she’s no doubt taking a break perhaps @faceofpoe has a tasty unpublished morsel 

[froizetta]

WIP Wednesday!

I've tried to mostly post excerpts from unpublished stuff for WIP Wednesday, but I'm kinda running out of bits that work out of context. So instead, have an out-of-context excerpt from chapter 4 of (Love) Triangles. I've decided it's not spoilers actually because it's Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent meeting at basically-a-gala and like. Of COURSE that was gonna happen this chapter. Come on now.

He hadn’t expected to see the cute reporter from the bar last week at tonight’s event; Kent’s name hadn’t been on the guest list. But there he was, standing by himself in a secluded corner, frowning at something on the other side of the room. Bruce followed his gaze but only saw an unremarkable selection of attendees and the canapé table. To all appearances, the man was just staring into the middle distance, looking frustrated and mildly queasy. Most likely, he was feeling out of his element here, Bruce thought. He certainly looked it, hunched over by the wall in a cheap, rented tux that was clearly two sizes too big.

Bruce felt himself frown. It was frankly criminal that he managed to hide that ridiculously perfect body under such unflattering clothes. It honestly felt like a waste. Just like the first time they’d met, Bruce was hit with the irrational urge to tell him to stand up straight and give him the number of his tailor.

Hm. He seemed to be turning into Alfred at the ripe old age of 29. Maybe the man had a point about diversifying his social pool.

But still, disappointing wardrobe aside, Kent had been a more than pleasant temporary distraction. Pleasant, and shockingly…vigorous. Kent had certainly seemed satisfied as well, and thoroughly enough that he didn’t so much as stir while Bruce made his way out of the suite after he’d fallen asleep.

A pleasant heat curled in Bruce’s belly at the memory. The encounter had been playing on his mind in the intervening week, more than he’d expected. Now wasn’t the time for anything like that, but…perhaps if he played his cards right tonight, Kent could be persuaded into a repeat performance?

It was certainly worth a try.

He slid a hand into his pocket and sauntered over. “Clark!” he called out brightly.

Kent blinked as if startled and looked over as he approached. His blue, blue eyes widened in shock. “Bru— Mr. Wayne?” he stammered.

“Oh, Clark, I thought I finally got you to call me Bruce!” he said in mock dismay. He smiled then, slow and wicked. “Several times, in fact, by my fond recollection.”

As predicted, Kent flushed. Bruce had quickly discovered during their first meeting that Kent was an easy blusher, which made teasing him very rewarding. He edged a little closer, just a touch more so than was friendly, and said lowly, “You know, I’ve been thinking about you all week. How's my favorite reporter been getting on? Well, I hope?”

He expected Kent’s initial surprise to resolve into a bashful smile. But instead, those captivating eyes hardened and his mouth twisted into a frown. “I think I’ll stick with Mr. Wayne, thanks,” he said coolly. “I’d like to keep things professional, if possible.”

Bruce’s grin faltered.

Hm. Maybe aiming for a repeat performance was an ambitious plan after all.

He stepped away to give the man his space back, palms up in a gesture of easy surrender. “Of course. I didn’t mean to get…you know. Overexcited. I take it you’re here for business rather than pleasure?”

“With all due respect, Mr. Wayne,” Kent said, in a tone that suggested that the amount due was a little over none, “this isn’t exactly the kind of place I’d come to for pleasure.”

“A pity,” he said lightly. “I find it extremely rewarding to mix the two myself.”

Kent huffed. “And here I thought you were on a strict diet of the latter.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at the bitterness in his tone. It wasn’t exactly an unfair comment, but…

“Honestly, Clark, I don’t know why you’re acting so sore all of a sudden,” he said with a polite frown. “I mean, if either of us was gonna be sore after that night, I really think it should be me, with the way you—”

“Bruce,” Kent hissed, eyes wide and scandalized.

“Hm. So we’re back to Bruce now, huh?”

Kent let out a soft groan of frustration. His gaze darted around the room as if expecting the eyes and ears of the assembled guests to be on him. Seeing that the other guests were, on the whole, more preoccupied with depleting LexCorp’s catering stock and pretending to enjoy mind-numbing small talk, he returned his attention to Bruce. “Mr. Wayne,” he said stiffly. “Could I speak with you in private for a moment?”

This wasn’t exactly the exit from the party floor he’d been aiming for, but Bruce was nothing if not adaptable. Facing off with a former lover would work just as well for the cover. He smiled his most charming smile, just to the left and down a bit from obsequious. “Lead the way.”

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

15 Lines of Dialogue

15 Lines of Dialogue Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

I was tagged by @omgkalyppso tysm!! I'm low spoons so I won't tag anyone directly and its hard keeping track of which of my friends is writing stuff ;;

Majexatli

I grabbed these from a bunch of different places, including some WIPs. But published fics included can be found x x x x

“It’s alright,” Majexatli said, even as the tension didn’t leave them, “My reflex would be to wildshape, not attack,”

“Apologies, I just…needed to get away,” Majexatli said, leaning back on their hands with a sigh, now stripped down to their breeches and laced tunic, rumpled and stained with blood, “I’m not used to… this. People. Before the Nautiloid I would go weeks without seeing other people, now there’s countless every day.”

“Sorry, it’s been a long day, I’m a little… out of it,” They smiled politely, forcing their shoulders to relax as much as they could.

“Having a title you feel you aren’t living up to? Does it hurt?”

“He’s married now. Has children, even. A beautiful family, I’m sure. Makes sense, it’s been 20 years. I haven’t been back since. Word is he’ll make archdruid one day, his friends are highly respected as well, always have been,”

“I don’t care for the title,” Majexatli said, then added, almost inaudible, “Not this time,”

“I told you not to do that, Althyran,”

“Speak of my people like that again and see what happens,”

“I’m not cursed. I chose to be this way. I chose Malar,”

“If you wished that a druid and faithwarden was standing before you, then I apologize, but Silvanus and his balance killed that person without second thought. If you don’t care about that young druid named Faithwarden who died alone, then I suppose it’s fitting you serve Silvanus.”

“I did this selfishly. I didn’t protect anyone. I became this to survive.”

“It’s fine, I’m just tired and not well. I’ll be better tomorrow, if Silvanus wills,” The Oak Father’s name felt bitter on their tongue.

“Perhaps you just haven’t been around enough tieflings,” Majexatli’s voice was calm, tinged with a politeness that seemed at odds with their body language.

“I don’t have another life, just this one, where I met you,”

I can hear the blood in your veins. I hunger to tear open your flesh and devour you. The desire consumes my mind. I will hurt you. It is only a matter of time.

Abjid

It's been a while since I talked about them but they hold a place in my heart. Abjid has a few iterations, most of these are their Dragon Age version, just because I've written the most about that version. Another mix of unpublished and published things, I would give links but I grabbed most of these from my gdrive, with the exception of the d&d abjid piece which accounts for 9-12 which is here

“Apologies, most animals don’t take kindly to my presence,” They said, not looking up from the fire. He recognized their accent as being faintly Orlesian.

“I don’t believe in neutrality,” They said eventually, “You have a blade in your hand, I am giving you a whetstone. Now you are faced with the option to sharpen it or not. I’m not here to coax the blade from your hand, nor coax you to use it. Perhaps I enable you, perhaps not. Perhaps I’m here simply to stoke the flames of your self-torment and draw out your hesitation and conflicted feelings. Perhaps, though, I’m just bored. I’ve done my part though, now it’s in your hands.” 

“I doubt it. One really knows me. You know scary stories and rumors, you think what stands before is the amalgamation of all the half-remembered ghost stories and rumors whispered fearfully by people whose voice shakes the same way it does when they stutter prayers to their god in the vain belief it will wash the blood from their hands. And perhaps that is all I am, perhaps I don’t deserve a proper name if my existence is but a noun too vague and blurred at the edges to be proper,”

“Try not to move, by the way, or exert yourself overmuch. Or panic. You know, all the standard things, you know the drill. I’m sure Anders’ would hate it if I let someone like you die in his clinic. But as always, the Creators and fate like to test me…”

“Mm, well, you know, generally one wants assassinations to be quiet. Rather hard to do if the victim is panicking and shouting as they succumb to poison. Have to choose the right poison, no one likes when things get messy and you have to dirty your own clothes and blade, or at least in Orlais. Shame really, Kirkwall does tend to lack the same... theatrical element to its politics, makes it all quite boring if you were to ask me,” 

“So wanting just revenge is a trait of demons now? I really must have been away for a long time then, glad I left the Chantry a lifetime ago,”

“That’s the problem with the Chantry’s dichotomy of demons and spirits. Nothing’s as clear-cut as that. Demons, Spirits, whatever lives in the Fade, they all are just as diverse as people. There are good people, there are bad people, but most people are some mix of the two. Demons can be good, spirits can be evil, most are far more complex. My husband’s far more versed in the theology of it.”

"There aren’t many job opportunities for abominations, you know. It was this or becoming a politician, and I’ve never been fond of human politics."

“I woke up with a lot of things, so I mean, why not? Being possessed was the least of my concerns then, hardly even noticed it. When I did later, I…,” They laughed again, pain creeping through the cracks, “I figured with everything else that happened, this might as well happen too.”

“I tried-– I tried a lot of things, for a lot of years, but… nothing ever stuck. I tried so hard for years. And I don’t have the energy to fight back anymore. No matter what happens, no matter what I do or what I want, I will always end up killing someone and so it’s best just to… not care.”

“Does it matter what I want? Do you ask a blade what it wants? Should I keep building a sandcastle of hope right as the high tide rolls in? No matter what I build or don’t, it doesn’t stop the tide. I can’t control the ocean, I’m just a body washed up on shore. Should I rage against the waves and try to change the sea? What will that change? All I can do is build those sandcastles between the tides. You don’t have to agree or like me Keane, it’s best if you don’t. But I’m tired. Whether you direct your ire at the builder or the tide, the blade or the wielder, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I’m tired, Keane. What I want doesn’t matter, it didn’t even matter when I was alive.”

[orangeflavoryawp]

20 questions for fic writers

Ohhhh, haven't done one of these in a while. Thanks for the tag @esther-dot <3

How many works do you have on Ao3?

On Ao3? 91 But add to that, older fics on ffnet and other independent sites (oh Rolo Realm, my beloved), I think it's 102.

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

1,020,258

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Game of Thrones/ASOIAF, Mass Effect, Dragon Age, Naruto, X-Men, Star Trek, Record of Lodoss War, Sailor Moon, Harry Potter and several unpublished ones

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Almost all Jonsa, lol. - From Instep to Heel - A Violence Done Most Kindly - Wool and Tallow - Shepard Sees the Sky - Hallowed

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always, but it takes me time. I used to be very secluded, still am sometimes, and it took me effort to reply to comments and build relationships and community. I don't want to lose that. It's also important to me that readers understand how meaningful even a single comment is. So yeah, every comment, I try.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Alright, so there's a lot of contenders for this one. I'm not even gonna try to list them off.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably either Interlocking or What Grows in Winter? I don't write a lot of 'happy' endings, I would say. Mostly I write endings that have either hope or closure, and that can come in a multitude of emotions, but those two fics are probably the most light-hearted of my works so I'm going with that.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Sure, but honestly, not nearly as much as I expected. I've never really gotten someone trying to get into an argument with me. It's really just those one-line trolls that mass comment on a fic out of nowhere with stuff like 'Die parasite' or whatever.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! I can actually say that now, lol. It's semi-recent for me, I guess. Considering how long I've been writing, at least. At the moment it's just het smut, but who knows what the future will bring!

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nope. Dislike crossovers, actually.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Several, actually.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, and I don't plan to. Don't think it would work well.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

I honestly can't answer this. Like... honestly. But the two couples I've spent the most time actively writing for would be Jon/Sansa (Game of Thrones/ASOIAF) and Storm/Wolverine.(X-Men), so there's that.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

It'd be between Rocks and Shoals and Sheparding Men, but I'm more hopeful that I'd return to Rocks and Shoals. Both are Mass Effect fic.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization and emotive language.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Setting and exposition, for sure. Also, paring down a scene, lol.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've thrown in a commonly known phrase or two, but I don't like it being used regularly. There's too much variance on how to show translation in fic, and I find it often breaks the pace of the piece trying to do so, anyway.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh geez, thinking back, probably Xena? Though that was unpublished. First published fandom would be X-Men.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Damn, that's hard. But I'm probably going to have to go with Reckoned from One Midnight to the Next for the way it changed my writing style going forward. Perhaps the most formative of my pieces. Close runner up would be A Violence Done Most Kindly though, since it's also pretty formative for me in how I tackle plot now, and I'm really proud of the intricacies in that one.

This was pretty fun! Tagging for those interested @theoriginalsuki @jonsaslove @amymel86 @barbex @hawkeykirsah @vorchagirl @razerathane @tlcinbflo @foofyschmoofer @goddesstiera @joufancyhuh @sailorshadzter

[archduchessofnowhere]

since you've found some of fj's letters to elisabeth, i was wondering: how did he write to her? what kind of tone does he use (affectionate, reserved) and what info does he usually include? like, does he keep her updated on political and economic matters, or is it mostly family stuff? sorry for the flurry of questions! no worries if there aren't enough letters to paint the full picture.

Hi! First of all, we do have a lot of his letters available ever since the fall of the monarchy in 1918. The first collection of Franz Josef’s letters was Franz Joseph I. in seinen Briefen, edited by Dr. Otto Ernst and published in 1924. It got an English translation by Agnes Blake in 1927, and it’s currently available to read for free in the archive. Although this book has a chapter dedicated to Elisabeth, it doesn’t have any letter of the couple, but some of their telegrams.

About the kind of information they conveyed, Ernst was particularly frustrated:

Yet, even here, the true note is absent, for Franz Joseph talks of the weather! Wherever his own journeys might take him, be it to Ofen, or to Gödöllő, on a shooting expedition, or to the manoeuvres, he never omitted to inform his wife — as she flitted restlessly from place to place — whether it was hot or cold, whether it was raining or the sun shining; and, during the winter months, Elisabeth was kept duly posted as to how many degrees of frost were being registered.

And again later on:

(…) is there anything more characteristic of the “perfect gentleman” than this everlasting talk about the weather, what it was like yesterday and what it may be expected to be like to-morrow? Thus the telegrams sent by Franz Joseph when staying at Budapest, or Gödöllő, or on manoeuvres at Jungbunzlau, to his wife sojourning maybe at Tunis, Corfu, Venice, or Paris, are limited in nine cases out of ten to bulletins as to the temperature of the air that the Emperor is at that moment inhaling. Now and again he may exceed this limit, and then we get a more detailed analysis of the climatic conditions, as, for instance, when he telegraphs that it is windy, or warm — or that a storm has been raging, which was followed by fine weather, etc., etc.

(I actually laughed out loud reading this).

Then he proceeds to share some of the telegrams and they are truly utterly boring. What’s important is that a) FJ sounds genuinely concerned about his wife’s whereabouts and eager to know news from her and b) he really likes to talk about the weather. The only telegram that genuinely surprised me, because I don’t recall having read this before, is this one he sent to Elisabeth, who was in Corfu, around the time Duke Max in Bavaria (her father) was in his deathbed, telling her to not go see him:

I advise you most earnestly not to go to Munich, for in the present cold state of the weather, you might easily be taken ill, and as I have an impression that Papa [Duke Max] is rapidly approaching his end, you would be sure to arrive too late. Should I unfortunately happen to be right, I will be certain to attend the funeral at Munich myself.

In his biography of Elisabeth historian Egon Corti shared some of the letters the emperor wrote to his wife, many of them unpublished at the time, and they are far more interesting than the telegrams. For exemple, during the 1859 Italian War, Elisabeth asked her husband to let her join him at the front, to which he replied:

Even though she was far away it seems rather cruel to me to ask her not to go see her dying father (specially when Elisabeth was present at his father’s deathbed), but giving that the Duke had an almost non existant relationship with his children perhaps she didn’t lament it that much. Whether it was solely because of her husband advised her against it or for other personal reasons, finally Elisabeth didn’t go.

For the present, unfortunately, I cannot comply with your wish, though I should love to beyond words. Women are out of place in the disturbed life at headquarters, and I cannot set my army a bad example, besides which, even I do not in the least know how long I shall be stopping here... I beseech you, my angel, if you love me, not to grieve so much, but to take care of yourself ; try to find plenty of distractions, go for rides and drives in moderation and preserve your dear, precious health, so that when I come back I may find you thoroughly well and we may be as happy as can be.

The first (and I believe so far only) compilation of letters that FJ wrote to Elisabeth were published in two volumes in 1966, covering from 1859 until 1898. In general his letters to her are very loving, he uses the informal “Du”, calls her “angel” or “Édes szeretett lelkem” (my sweet beloved soul), asks her about her well being and how he hopes to see her soon again. I haven’t gone through all of these yet however so I can’t tell you what are the general themes, but from what I read (which wasn’t much) I noticed that a) again, FJ genuinely missed Elisabeth and wanted to know about how and where she was, b) he just needed to communicate absolutely everything he did on the day in detail and c) he really liked to talk about the weather.

I also recall reading somewhere before that FJ didn’t discuss politics with his wife in his letters, which is just plain untrue, I literally opened the second volume at random and found this (letter from December 1894, machine translation):

I am already longing for news from you, as I have heard absolutely nothing from you since your arrival in Algiers. I hope you are well and happy. I am sad and distressed because the crisis in Hungary is approaching and I fear that it will again cause me much trouble, worry and agitation. The Indemnity Act has been quickly adopted in the House of Representatives and will probably not last long among the magnates either. Then the resignation of the Ministry will soon follow and the work will begin.

Since I haven’t read the 700+ pages of correspondance I can’t tell if this was out of character or if he always communicated her these kind of news, but that he never mentioned politics is wrong.

And lastly family life was an important part of the correspondance, especially during the years Elisabeth just wasn’t around. He often wrote to her of their grandchildren, for exemple in March 1893 he wrote: “A few days ago Erzsi [Rudolf’s daughter] went to confession for the first time and on the first Sunday after Easter Georg's [Gisela’s son] first Comunion will take place”, and in July of the same year: “[Valerie’s] children I found, praise God, quite well, the little one [five-months-old Franz Karl Salvator] is gaining weight and is getting really cheerful and Ella [one-year-and-a-half-old Elisabeth] was particularly gracious and funny. She is very amusing and already speaks quite a lot.” You can find a lot of small mentions like this, and also of their great-grandchildren, nieces and nephews, cousins and in-laws.

I hope you found my answer helpful and sorry it took me so long! I’ll share more about these letters when I continue reading them.

Sources:

Corti, Egon (1936). Elizabeth, empress of Austria (translation by Catherine Alison Phillips)

Emperor Franz Josef I of Austria (1966). Briefe Kaiser Franz Josephs an Kaiserin Elisabeth, 1859-1898. Band II

Ernst, Otto (1927). Franz Joseph as revealed by his letters (translation by Agnes Blake)

[sisterdivinium]

28! Personally, I'd be hard-pressed to pick one, after reading a new fic of yours I usually just go "THIS is my new favorite one" 😂 how does it go for you?

Hi, Anon! And thanks for that compliment, haha <3

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

Well, it does say this year so that narrows it down a bit... But yes, that can be hard to choose. After all, what is the criterion? Favourite to write, favourite to reread, favourite theme, favourite exploration of this or that character's psyche, favourite lines of dialogue... What do I look at to choose one?

Let's say favourite fic for a different ship. That would be Needlework, I think, because weaving Shannon and Suzanne together (weaving, see what I did there? LOL) was pretty interesting and the end result satisfied me. Or maybe we're talking favourite plot, in which case it could be Psychosis, what with all those little instants of intimate horror that only demonic possession can allow for. Perhaps a favourite challenge? That might be A semblance of normalcy, which is pretty damn fluffy for someone who usually shies away from fluff given how hard it can be to maintain characters in-character. A favourite very few people seem to consider as highly as I do is Outside stillness, which I look over again from time to time and is very dear to me... I could come up with different standards to mention stuff all day! Not to mention the fact that there are unpublished stories, too, and I am very much proud of the upcoming VtM doctor superion AU...

So yes, it's hard to pick Just One. I suppose the little selection above will have to do, and that's because I am holding myself back from other honourable mentions, otherwise I'll probably list every single fic I wrote this year, lol.

[ao3 wrapped [writers edition]]

[martiandmichelle]

New Queue

Hey everyone! I just started a new queue; it's "theme" is all nipple-presenting pics of me (Marti) posted here in the months of November and December 2023. There are 68 photos in the queue posting every 30 minutes so that's 34 hours beginning around 4:15 am (EDT) on August 20. We will also be posting our usual number of new and unpublished pics and gifs in between but these queues are a way of giving you something to look at whatever time of day you use Tumblr. We've posted hundreds of pics and gifs here and we know what a pain it is to scroll back to see them all so this gives you the chance to see them without all the scrolling.

A couple of downsides to the queues: I'm just posting pictures and not giving the text around them - it would take forever to set up. I'm trying to come up with a way to give you something to read to learn about us - maybe through a secondary blog. (New posts will still have text!) The second problem is, of course, this queuing buries new and original posts even further down the list. Perhaps if I give new stuff a tag of "new" for you to list? We'll work something out and any ideas you have please send them our way.

I think the next queue will be pics of all the other ladies from both Mountain Media and Studio M in all of 2023.

Kisses, Marti

[sunshine304]

For the More fic questions

5, 8, 19, & 30

5. first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

"That was when he heard his phone chime with the message alert, two times in quick succession." This is such an uninteresting sentence for this meme. XD 6th paragraph would've been better but alas! It's for the slut era!Wei Wuxian AU that I've finally managed to finish a short while ago and that's now in beta (which it needs because this thing was a bit all over the place for a long time).

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

I'm not a big sequel writer, actually. The one I can see me writing a sequel for is the mentioned AU from the first question, tbh. It would be a great opportunity for an alternate PoV! From the ones already posted... hm, perhaps a short one for A Changed Perspective May Gain You Knowledge, to see what happens after.

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

Hm, the most research I did was for the Ninja Warrior AU, and it was some of it was quite interesting, I guess, especially because I wanted to incoroprate stuff from the Chinese version that only had one season. I also had to go through so many posts about the different obstacles... XD

30. share a fic you’re especially proud of

I'm definitely proud of the Ninja Warrior AU, which is so far the longest fic I've written and actually has a semblance of a plot! XD

To mention something not yet mentioned here, I also really think I nailed the soft atmosphere I was going for in Jade Reflecting the Morning's Glow.

Thank you for playing!

The two writing memes are here and here, if someone wants to ask me somemore questions! :D