#Outlander Ficlet

[raina-at]

Weather

As those of you who follow my May ficlets surely know by now, I’ve set myself an unofficial goal to hit all of my AUs. So today I’m picking my quasi Narina AU called Lost Souls that, like, five people have read. This fic is what happens when I read Outlander, see Narnia, and read teenlock. (Tl,DR context for this ficlet: Sherlock and John are stuck in another dimension, that’s pretty much all you need to know. Also, they’re both about 18-20 in this ficlet, John is a medic, and Sherlock is working for local law enforcement)

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Weather, John thinks as he shakes out his umbrella, will never be a selling point of the British Isles, no matter in which dimension, no matter what they’re called. Sherlock gave him a long speech once about climate and sea levels and geology all being pretty much identical here, compared to the England they grew up in, so it stands to reason that the weather is equally rotten.

Well, since John has spent his entire life in England and then on the equivalent on Dera, he’s bloody well used to it.

Doesn’t mean he has to like it, though. 

He can handle rain and fog and everything in between. What he doesn’t like is when a day starts out beautiful and sunny and ends up in a deluge of truly epic proportions. He’s not that wet, because he was smart enough to stay at the clinic until the worst was over, but his coat will take ages to dry, and he dislikes the smell of drying wool. 

He’s just getting warm again, sitting on the sofa by the fire and enjoying a nice cuppa and the first chapter of a new novel Molly lent him when the door to their flat bangs open.

John turns around and starts laughing uncontrollably.

The thing about Sherlock is, he’s always gorgeous. But right now, soaked to the skin in his dark wool coat, hair wet and plastered to his head, dripping on the floor and wearing a pissy expression, he looks like nothing so much as a drowned cat. Specifically Toby, Molly’s black tomcat.

Sherlock glares at John, which makes the resemblance to a pissed off cat even greater. 

“I fail to see what’s so funny,” Sherlock grumps as he stalks into the sitting room, shedding his coat as he goes, letting it drop to the floor with a heavy splat.

“You look like Toby, that one time he fell into the suds bucket at the morgue,” John says between giggles. 

“I do not!” Sherlock all but hisses, which sets off John even more.

“Oh my god, now you sound like him too!”

Sherlock glares at him, then something in his eyes changes. He stalks over to John, who’s still on the sofa, and sits down straight in his lap.

“Oh my god, you’re cold!” John yelps, as the water dripping from Sherlock’s clothes start soaking through his trousers and shirt immediately.

“Warm me up, then,” Sherlock says, shaking his head so water droplets land all over John.

John laughs. “Great, now I’m getting wet because you don’t have the sense God gave small children to stay inside when it’s pouring outside.”

“Staying in just because it’s raining is boring, John,” Sherlock says, reeling John in and pressing his entire wet torso against John’s.  “You don’t want me catching cold, do you, Doctor?” Sherlock murmurs into John’s ear. Sherlock’s closeness, the whisper of breath against John’s ear, and Sherlock using his still very new title all together make John reconcile with the situation very quickly. The fact that he, the sofa, and the floor are getting soaked are of very minor importance compared to a wet, gorgeous and mischievous Sherlock Holmes in his lap.

He threads his fingers into Sherlock’s wet hair and pulls him in for a kiss. Sherlock tastes of rain and fresh air and pastries. “Mrs Hudson is baking?” John asks, pulling back a little.

“Very good,” Sherlock says, grinning at John, an obvious challenge sparking in his eyes and in the corner of his smile. “What else?”

John grins. Two can play this game, my friend, he thinks. He noses along Sherlock’s throat, smelling rain and traces of their soap and the faint trace of canal. He licks a few raindrops from Sherlock’s neck, and Sherlock gasps. “You went to see Billy.”

“Conjecture,” Sherlock murmurs, dipping his head back to give John better access to his neck.

“Fact,” John answers, sinking his teeth playfully into the taut muscle of Sherlock’s enticing throat. “You smell like the river,” he whispers, as he dips his tongue into Sherlock’s ear.

Sherlock moans, and John grins into Sherlock’s skin. It took them a good while to find their stride, physically speaking, given that neither of them had an inkling of an idea what they were doing. But by now John knows Sherlock’s body so well, he knows exactly which strings to pluck.

“What else?” Sherlock asks, his voice no longer quite steady.

John draws back, surveying Sherlock like he’s a crime scene, knowing that this sort of scrutiny will turn Sherlock on even more. He kisses Sherlock again, licking deep into his mouth, chasing taste and sensation. He licks the corner of Sherlock’s mouth, and Sherlock moans around John’s tongue, drawing him closer to deepen the kiss, but John moves back, putting a finger over Sherlock’s mouth. “Moff’s bakery. Powdered birch sugar, you were at the doughnuts again.”

Sherlock nods, pulling at John for more kisses. John happily obliges.

“One more,” Sherlock whispers against John’s lips.

John grins and draws back a little. He runs his hands under Sherlock’s sopping wet suit jacket, pushing it off Sherlock’s shoulders as he fleeces the pockets. Nothing of interest. Then he unbuttons Sherlock’s waistcoat, one button at the time. Sherlock’s shirt is sticking to his skin, almost translucent, and John can’t resist mouthing at the taut nipple outlined under the fabric, even as he deftly checks the pockets of Sherlock’s waistcoat for clues. The rain-soaked shirt and Sherlock’s warm skin beneath, Sherlock’s hands carding through his hair, holding his head to Sherlock’s chest, and the encouraging noises Sherlock is making are almost enough to drive the game from John’s mind.

But only almost. Because Sherlock’s shirt smells of beeswax and dusty shelves. “Library,” he murmurs around Sherlock’s nipple, grazing the delectable nub with his teeth.

Sherlock gasps and pulls John up for a searing kiss. John grins against Sherlock’s lips.

Game over, then, he thinks. I won. “Are you getting warmer, love?”

“Shut up,” Sherlock says, dipping them back to the sofa, trapping John under himself, pressing his entire wet, warm, enticing body against John’s.

John grins. “Make me.”

Sherlock’s eyes darken. “Not a problem.”

As Sherlock moves in to kiss the very thoughts out of John’s head, John thinks, Oh, I definitely won, before he surrenders entirely to the force of nature that is Sherlock unleashed. Thank god for rain. 

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Tags under the cut as usual, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

[annagoober]

No it’s not TBT, but a bonus post. Last week I posted “Clair(e)voyance” and I just want to make sure you read the continuation of this marvelous story. So here’s the next part and just keep following. Don’t forget the ficlets! Cheers, I’m on my way to Scotland 🛫🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

[bunnyreaper]

watching outlander. if i cope by writing johnny ficlets based off my favourite scenes, will you all hate me?

[khaleesiofalicante]

Noorambles strikes again

As we all know, David is your own character. But how did you come to make him? Like what was the thought process, any inspo?

Why is he French? Why’s his name David? Where’d you get his last name from? Was David your rough draft and you ran with it, or was he originally something else? Like different name, nationality, and personality wise?

Out of everyone in the shadow verse, why’d you chose to write about max and make David a part of it ?

Funnily enough, David came out of nowhere.

Most of my other OCs (if not all of them) were born out of a lot of thought and workshopping.

David is what I call an accidental pregnancy lmao but he ended up being my favorite kid. I made a small reference to him when I was writing a ficlet on tumblr years ago and then he just never left my mind...

There wasn't a lot of inspo. David is honestly inspo for what I want to see in the real world. I wish there were more Davids out there.

But for some of your other questions:

He's French because I've always liked France. In school, I studied French history for two years (and yes I impressed my Uber Drivers in Paris by answering their questions lol). David's name came up absolutely randomly (like I said I picked a random name for that ficlet I wrote and I never changed it). But I was so so pleased to learn that the name actually means 'be loved'. HOW COOL IS THAT?

David's last name has a deeper meaning (which we'll learn later), but it was inspired by Claire Beauchamp - a character from the Outlander series whom I loved very much.

A lot didn't change about him in terms of the specific things you mentioned. He really is the original draft. But the David who is now isn't who I thought he'd be at the beginning. But that's the same for any original character I write. The more you write, the better you understand them. Like when I wrote him at first, I didn't think being a father would be an important part of his personality. But now it's kinda most of his personality. He loves his children more than anything and I can see how that came to be considering how he was realized and how much love he kept himself inside himself without having anyone to give it to. He never had any family so when he got one that he could love, he didn't hold back. Those are things I only realized later on. And that's the best part about writing OCs. They keep surprising you!

As for why I write about Mavid the most, I feel closest to them the most. In the same way, I feel and relate to Malec the most in the tsc universe. It's impossible to write about a ship if you don't understand its dynamics on a deep level. I kind of understand Max and David very very deeply - in a way I don't understand Rafael and Anjali or Lance and Theia. Maybe it's because individually as characters, Max and David, are more fleshed out in my brain than anyone else. I assume so anyway :)

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

fic stats meme

Tagged by darling @theawkwardterrier, thank you friend! 💜

most hits: the best by far is you (Outlander, Jamie/Claire; 66,962 hits)

An exploration of Claire & Jamie's story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the battle of Culloden.

second most kudos: Beside the Seaside (Outlander, Jamie/Claire; 847 kudos)

The Second World War has ended but returning to their lives from before the war proves difficult for many. For widower Jamie Fraser, the physical and psychological scars he now carries threaten the peaceful life he wants to provide for his young daughter. In an effort to start over fresh, he moves them to a coastal town in the Highlands and buys a seaside inn.

Claire Beauchamp returned from the war with an orphan in tow, intent on adopting the boy and starting the family she and her husband had longed for before the war interrupted their plans. But in gaining her son, she loses her marriage and now must cobble together some sort of life for just her and Fergus. To try and mend their fractured relationship, she takes her son on an extended stay in the Scottish Highlands.

third most comments: The Lost Ones (Outlander, Jamie/Claire; 92 comments)

He hadn’t seen his neighbor Claire Beauchamp since the day her world collapsed, but she stood on the other side of his door now with a casserole dish in hand.

-----

Jamie Fraser is dreading the upcoming holiday season, but he finds solace in his growing friendship with Claire Beauchamp, who is battling her own grief this year. Together, they decide to help each other through a difficult time and also work to bring a little joy at Christmas to a child in foster care.

fourth most bookmarks: this one was a tie!

1. Soften Every Edge (Outlander, Jamie/Claire; 34 bookmarks)

A soft, domestic interlude, picking up where TBBFIY ended. Time passes, their family grows, and they try not to take a moment of it for granted.

2. When My Love Reaches to Me (Outlander, Jamie/Claire; 34 bookmarks)

It’s been six months since she fell for her neighbor across the hall, seven months since she lost her only remaining family, nine months since Jamie lost his father.

On their first summer holiday as a couple, they’re reaching milestones they didn't expect.

fifth most words: Where the Love-light Gleams (Outlander, Jamie/Claire; 6,645 words)

Jamie promised to be home for Christmas. He was nothing if not a man of his word. A TBBFIY Christmas story.

least words: Up All Night: A TBBFIY Ficlet (Outlander, Jamie/Claire; 1,456 words)

With two babies under Lallybroch's roof, sleep can be hard to come by. Originally written for chapter 4 of The Best by Far Is You.

Or alternatively, Jamie has two hands to hold two babies (thank you @mocalmangeal)

Tagging: whoever wants to do this!

[i-am-still-bb]

Whumptober 2023 - Summary

Orange font = still in progress, this post will updated as the stories are finished and posted

Stand Alones

No. 01: Swooning (Fili & Kili, T, 770 words) No. 05 : “You better pray I don't get up this time around.” & Pinned Down (Fili & Kili, T, 910 words) No. 10: "You said you'd never leave." (Fili/Kili, T, 1166) No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.” (Reader's choice, T, 539 words) No. 12: Red (Fili, T, 494 words) No. 13: Cold Compress (Fili/Kili, G, 550 words) No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.” & “Watch out!” (Fili & Kili, T, 2917 words) No. 24: “I thought they were with you.” (Fili/Kili, T, 3181 words) No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.” (Fili/Kili, T, 2066 words) No. 29: “What happened to me?” (T, ? words)

bipolar!Anders AUs (Anders/Mitchell)

No. 06: Recording (T, 745 words) No. 21: Restraints

Outlander AU (Fili/Kili)

No. 09: “You're a liar.” (T, 359 words)

Fast Car (formerly Dead Batteries) (Fili/Kili)

No. 27: "You drew stars around my scars; But now I'm bleeding" & Scars & "Let me see." (T, 1076) No. 08: Body Modification (T, 780 words) No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.” & “Just hold on.” (T, 2245 words) No. 07: Radio Silence (T, 429 words) No. 02: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.” (T, 1036 words) No. 15: "I'm fine." (T, 1579 words) No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.” & Blindfold (T, 1147 words) No. 19: Brass Knuckles (T, 1619 words) No. 23: “Who’s there?” (T, 2126 words) No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.” (T, 2030)

Greenwood AU (Fili/Kili)

No 03: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.” & Solitary Confinement (T, 277 words)

Erebor Castle AU (Fili/Kili)

No. 04: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.” (E, 3758 words)

DarkHawk AU (Peace, Trust, and the Ocean)

No. 17: Touch Aversion (T, 1410 words)

Firewatcher AU (??)

No. 25: "Storm"

Ficlets Still in Progress

No. 16: "Would you lie with me and just forget the world?" No. 26: "You look awful." No. 30 No. 31

--

Taglist: Everything @silvermoon-scrolls @metztlilua @i-am-pinkie

Fili/Kili@dubhlachen

(If the tags aren't working, you may need to make your blog "searchable.")

[andrea-lyn]

fic inventory time, bc wow did the fandom balance change:

old guard: 1 fic, the joe/nicky outlander time travellers fic which is 23k and could get up to 80k

zukka: 3 fics; the big bang, a princess & the frog au, and a new au (have to decide if modern or no; prob no) with genie antics

roy/jamie: 1 fic, loosely au around celebrity come dine with me

x-men (?? yeah, it rose from the dead): 2 fics, one alex/darwin (prob the next to finish) and a cherik princess diaries au played serious(ish). literally decided to resurrect these two bc I hate abandoning fics

iwtv: 1 fic, bc the fandom is PERFECT for the hanahaki I've been wanting to write; armand/daniel for that one

malex: 1 fic; it's one of the ficlets I wrote for a prompt, except I'm changing the prompt a little and writing a whole thing out of it. will take guesses as to which one it is

[mists-reading-nook]

The world of Teyvat begins as a playground called Genshin Impact. A Traveler and Abyss Heir descend with the promise of helping Teyvat become a better place, so that they may reunite at late. Guiding the outlander is the world's creator, the one god all bow before.

It's a day of celebrating. With the First Chosen heralding the return of their Grace, the dying world recovers again, vision holders begin to don their holy light and grow stronger at the god's command. They've come back to save the realm.

It was a promise for twins of light to save Teyvat.

Then one day their Grace leaves, recovery ceases, and travesty is foretold through the death of Mondstadt's Cavalry Captain, a dead vision being all the proof the people need.

And so the world so shortly blessed is forsaken by the very same God. It all crumbled away to ash.

The world of Teyvat begins as a promise from twins of light to heal the wretched place, and ends with twin killers denying all of the people's pleas.

Until we too perish and our corpses erode to dust, our memories and flesh will be all that remains of the damned children.

I can only wonder if we'll meet judgement for our crimes, and dreams of being free from a simple, fantastical game, crafted by the hands of mortals for success and profit. Now we'll never have that freedom.

My brother, we have met a terrible, terrible demise.

--------------------------

(OR: I make an entire ficlet just for a singular FNAF UCN Reference rdoyxgidtckf)

Holy shit. I don't know what else to say,that was genuinely so good omg.

The last line???? It's so painful omg??? Anon my heart </3

Head empty only this masterpiece <3

[greyias]

Theron the Outlander???? 👀👀👀👀👀

This poor, neglected AU (that I really want to write and get out of my head), goes all the way back to 2017, and is an expansion on an innocuous little letter prompt ficlet. It's basically a role swap AU, where Theron, being Theron, in trying to reach out after Ziost intercepts a communication from Marr about the Eternal Fleet, and decides to do a bit of scouting before letting it go on through. And in doing so winds up taking the Outlander's place in the throne room, and all of the fallout that happens because of that decision.

A sick feeling that bubbled up in the back of Theron’s throat burned like bile. This had been a trap, just not the one he’d been expecting. Had he not intercepted the communication, she would be standing here instead of him. At the mercy of the monster that had already taken so much from her. Alone. Theron ignored the rapid pounding in his chest, instead deciding to face this head on. “We don’t always get what we want.” “I do,” Valkorion continued to stalk the room. “I always have.” “Yeah, well, life’s full of disappointments.” The emperor paused in his stalking to raise an unimpressed eyebrow as he looked Theron over. “Clearly.”

The road to hell is paved with the best intentions, and all that jazz. I have a sketchy outline of the whole story which would span basically up to KotFE Chapter 9. I think if I spent a little time fleshing it out, I might be able to finally hammer this baby out.

[invincibleinck]

Nipping Your Nose

Secret Santa gift for @rexwrendraws​! Don’t love it but always wanted to doodle Quorra. :) (Ficlet/drabble below the break; AO3 version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43765131)

The pale pixel kissed her nose. More fluttered down to perch on her lashes. She cupped a couple in her palm, scrutinizing them closer. She'd seen similar shapes in the Outlands, but never rendered with this level of detail. The fronds were like circuits, and each pattern was unique. Their beauty was transient, though, like most things in Analog. In nanos- (-seconds?), they derezzed into droplets. Sam chuckled beside her.

"'Course."

She turned to him, wrapping her scarf snug. "What?"

"Of course it snows in California for you."

Quorra didn't quite understand. She smiled just the same.

[annagoober]

TBT: Today’s throwback is a real treat! “Modern Glasgow AU” was started in 2015 and has many chapters and ficlets. Thank you @gotham-ruaidh! Enjoy readers!

[statell]

Ficlet by whisky_and_jazz

[mischievouswritingblog]

Prompt Fic: Rose Tinted Memories

Doing some writing practice with ficlets some prompts.

 “Thank you for agreeing to help.”

 -o-o-o-o-o-

 “Thank you for agreeing to help.” Khadgar said, his voice was barely above a whisper. He could barely believe that his former master was standing at his side. That they would face Sargeras and the Legion together. 

 Fear rolled around in the Archmage’s stomach. Fear of failure, but also fear that this moment was just a dream. That, with a blink, Medivh wouldn’t be there and Khadgar would find himself alone.

 Alone. Such a simple word that held so much weight and terror for Khadgar. He had been alone before, many times. He had lost so much, so many people over the years. One would think that he’d have gotten used to it, numb to it. But it still hurt now, just as much as it did when he plunged a dagger into Medivh’s chest all those years ago.

 Medivh blinked. Khadgar’s words caught him a little off guard. He had been enjoying the relative silence with his former apprentice as they looked out at Azaroth from the Vindicaar. He had been so enamored with the breathtaking view of their world that he almost missed Khadgar’s words entirely.

 Medivh had originally planned to leave after the defeat of Viz’aduum in the upper reaches of his tower home. He was ready to do it but that look Khadgar gave as he asked him to stay. Seeing him standing there, having come so far but still being the Young Trust, he knew under it all. Medivh’s feet were suddenly lead. He couldn’t bring himself to leave.

 “I’m not sure how useful I’ll be. Your friend Turalyon says I’m a potential threat. He’s probably not wrong.” Medivh admitted.

 The mention of Turalyon and the fight Khadgar had with him over Medivh made his stomach twist. His hold on Atiesh tightened a little, as they had thrown harsh words back and forth between them.

 Lately, it had seemed like the universe had been giving some things back to Khadgar. Alleria and Turalyon were here. He had friends in his champions; he had Medivh back, of all things. Yet, everything was still ‘off’. Alleria and Turalyon, he cared about dearly, were very different from when they last saw each other. Both changed by void and light. Turalyon was much harsher, even allowing for his wife to be locked up by Xe’ra. Alleria was wrapped in the embrace of the void. She was colder, more venomous. Khadgar found himself worrying about her, for her sanity. She always had a mean streak. He remembered the times he used to butt heads with Alleria in the past. But this was different. This was much more dangerous.

 Khadgar quietly mourned his friends all over again. That small part of himself that hoped against all hope that they’d be together again finally died. Khadgar had to wonder if the fond memories he had of them were truly real. Being there in their presence, listening to them as they spoke, memories bubbled up. Both the good and bad. Every argument he had with Alleria, his crush on Turalyon, and the pained disappointment when they became a pair. Khadgar still loved them, he still cared about them, but the three of them were more flawed than he cared to admit. He held on to his rose-tinted memories to help him get through the toughest times. 

 Now, that was all peeled away. Khadgar found his ironclad resolve start to waver.

“I’ve been living as a hermit for a long time.” Medivh spoke up, breaking Khadgar away from his thoughts. “Going out now and then for supplies, doing tasks for people in Darkshire. I would tell myself that it was a self-imposed punishment.” Medivh gave Khadgar a moment to let it all sink in. “I wanted to see you when I heard you had returned from Draenor…Or, ‘Outland’, as it’s known now. I even traveled all the way to Dalaran…”

 The memory of that day was still fresh in Medivh’s mind. The feel of his hammering heart as he walked the streets of the mage city. The goosebumps that rose from his skin as he feared recognition, even with how unlikely it was. Disguise aside, his time was a good number of years ago. It was highly unlikely any civilian would have realized who he was, let alone a young student. Still, there may have been someone out there that could. The anxiety only grew with gradual over stimulation of everything Dalaran, from the magic flaunted about the markets to the crowds of civilians, students, and adventurers crept up on him.

 It all boiled over, the moment he caught sight of Khadgar. He was being shown around the city by some eager students. He looked far older then, having a beard that went down to his knees. His hair was all grey, save for a thick streak of pure, bright white that Medivh recognized as Khadgar's signature Mullen stripe. It was him. It really was Khadgar, there and alive. Medivh's feet moved on their own, marching towards him. It took a minute for his mind to catch up with his body's actions. One of the students noticed him, eyeing him, and suddenly it all became too much. Medivh ducked into an alleyway before Khadgar could turn around to see him.

 He couldn't do it. Medivh couldn't face him. So he fled.

 “Honestly, I was just hiding from the world, and the repercussions of my crimes.” Medivh admitted to himself more than anything. It was a truth that needed to be said, that he needed to accept. “I separated my study from the rest of the tower, never realizing what was happening within it. That Moroes and my friends are still there, cursed and having to put up with demons and adventurers. Even now, I’m terrified of facing Sargeras, of the idea that he might…that I might…” Medivh didn’t finish. He looked down at one of his hands and found it trembling. Turalyon had raised the idea that Sargeras might try to use Medivh against them. As much as the magus didn’t want to admit it, it was a very real possibility. “I’m just a coward, Khadgar.”

 “Then why did you stay?” Khadgar asked. There was no accusation in his voice.

 Medivh slowly closed his trembling hand into a fist. “...I...don’t know. I was going to leave, but I couldn’t.”

 “I’d like to think that if there’s one thing I understand, it’s you, Medivh.” Khadgar said with a weary smile. “You were never the type to simply do as you were told. Even back then, you fought Sargeras’ control as much as you could. I’m sure I would have been a pile of ashes if you hadn’t.” Khadgar’s smile grew more fond, he blinked and Medivh could see his eyes had begun to tear up. “I think the two of us standing here, together again, is proof of that.”

 Medivh felt his face heat up. He broke eye contact with Khadgar and returned his gaze to Azaroth. “It was because you asked me to, Khadgar. I saw you there and for a moment, I saw that awkward lad the Kirin Tor threw at me.” Medivh felt his own eyes sting as it was their turn to tear up. “You’ve changed so much but you’re still ‘Young Trust’. You wanted me here and I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘no’ to you.”

 Khadgar couldn’t help the blush that creeped its way into his face. He chewed lightly on his lower lip as he tried to pick out the words he wished to say. 

 “I’m afraid too, Medivh.” Khadgar admitted. “I’ve made so many mistakes as a leader and poor choices as a person. We’re both flawed and damaged people. But I can’t deny that I feel braver with you here, with me.” Khadgar took a chance, reached over, and took Medivh’s hand into his own. He threaded their fingers together. When Medivh gently squeezed back, he felt his heart flutter. “I don’t just want to defeat Sargeras, I want to come out of this alive with you.”

 Medivh couldn’t help but smile a little. “I…wouldn’t mind leaving the tower more after this. Maybe…we could…? Ah…I…”

 “I’d love to show you around Dalaran.” Khadgar said. “I know you never liked it, but there are excellent places to eat. There’s also a very famous bookshop there that has more of those steamy romance novels…”

 “Dear light, you saw all of those?!” Medivh laughed halfway through the sentence.

 “I’ve always known about your smut collection. I had to organize those too back when I was cleaning your library.”

 Medivh’s face grew so hot, so fast that he felt a little lightheaded. His free hand rose up to cover his face. Laughter bubbled up from his chest and broke free. It was light, warm, and almost melodic. It brought a warmth to the room that Khadgar knew so well. At that moment, Medivh was lighter, more vibrant.

 “Excuse me…” a familiar drawling voice spoke. Moroes had arrived, with broom and dustpan in hand. The ever loyal steward refused to let Khadgar and Medivh go off without him. Surprising them both in his ability to leave Karazhan’s tower. Moroes gestured both magi to step aside as he began to sweep up what Khadgar noticed were small, golden crystalline shards. “Honestly, you’d think people around here would know to sweep up random bits of glass. If this junk gets into their hooves, it’ll cause them all sorts of problems.”

 Medivh’s brow furrowed as he stared at the collection of shards that were in Moroes’ dustpan. “Huh, so that’s what that occasional ‘crunch’ under my boots was…”

 “Um, that’s…Khadgar paled as he realized quickly what Moroes was sweeping up. “...That’s not glass.”

 Medivh looked to Khadgar, and then the realization hit him. “Oh, that’s the naru your moody purple friend blew up, isn’t it?”

 “Y-yep…” Khadgar could hear tiny, disjointed tones coming from the shards.

 “I don’t care what it is!” Moroes huffed. “It’s a mess, and it’s everywhere! Do your mage thing and help me clean.”

 “Magic!? Oh no, I couldn’t! I’d never!” Medivh said as an impish smile spread across his face. “I seem to remember a certain someone telling me that magic didn’t belong with cleaning. That all you need is good old-fashioned elbow grease and--”

 “Medivh.” Moroes’ voice was firm. He crossed his arms and gave the magus a firm look. “Enough of your sass or I’ll box you on your ears.”

 “Yes, yes, Mother Hen…” Medivh said, his smile turning warmer. He had very much missed Moroes and was thankful to have him back. He raised both of his hands into the air and his fingers gave a loud, sharp ‘snap’.

 Arcane crackled as mana flowed from Medivh and swirled in the air before shaping itself into multiple brooms. They floated off and went about sweeping and cleaning around the Vindicaar.

 Khadgar would take whatever levity he could get. Being there with Moroes and Medivh was grounding. Something he needed for the trials to come, for when they finally faced Sargeras.

 They would defeat him and get out of it alive, together. Khadgar didn’t need to hold on to rose-tinted memories to push him forward. There was so much to look forward to in the future.

 -The End-

Fic can be found on AO3

[narastories]

20 questions for fic writers!

Thank you @septemberskye for tagging me <3

I'll tag @nijinskys @viole-n-ts @brotherhoodoftheblade and anyone who would like to do this.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 98! (The same formatting thing happened to me too lmao) I can't believe it's almost 100. It's especially fun because it's Yuletide season and the fic authors won't get revealed until January. Which means it will probably be impossible to tell exactly which one counts as my 100th fic and somehow I like that.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? For a second I thought I would have to add it up manually. Phew. It's 457,682.

3. What fandoms do you write for? The Fetch Phillips Archives, The Dresden Files, and the Lord John Series (Outlander). Sometimes a fic here and there for other fandoms.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? the hero's prize, A bed and a penny, whatever this may be, over the edge and out of sight, Love your enemy The popularity of a fandom or a ship + the age of the fic will always have a bigger impact on your statistics than the quality of your writing. Don't swear it too much.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes, almost always. I found many friends this way.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably "so cold". A short ficlet but it hurt lol

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?  I usually write happy endings so I can't choose ^^"

8. Do you get hate on fics? Luckily I wouldn't say I do. I've gotten some annoying grammar corrections, and deliberate misunderstandings about a ship, but nothing I would call outright hate in the comments. Oh, and there was that one guy who got their panties in a twist because I've written a male character as a witch. That was fun.

The silver lining in writing for small fandoms, rarepairs, and niche topics is that you don't get many eyes on you so you just statistically catch fewer dumbasses. But if you are getting hate, just remember: don't feed the troll. Eat the troll ;)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes, I write all kinds of smut. Usually, my kind of smut is: - There is extensive set-up. I like to set the mood first, so unless it's a very short fic, there isn't any smut in the first 30% I would say. Even if I consider it a PWP there is usually some kind of set-up. - There are usually feelings involved. I like to focus on that, even if it's just a hook-up. - It's usually kinky. Not always, but I do write a lot of ships with inherent power dynamics or morally grey characters. And I'm happy to go all out there with the kinkyness lol

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? No. It's not my thing. But never say never because I actually have one idea for a fun little crossover...

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? OMG yes! Three of my ficlets from the Harry/Nic OTP challenge got translated to Russian and I'm so honored <3

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?  No... that idea gives me anxiety....

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? I can't answer this either. There are just too many ships that are too close to my heart. Especially since there are several rarepairs where I published either the first or most of the fics on AO3 for that ship... I simply can't choose.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I have one unfinished WIP on AO3, "over the edge and out of sight" which I know I will never continue (but I don't even want to so I don't think it counts as an answer). After that, I've stopped putting WIPs on AO3 in general ^^" From my WIP folder, there are several that I would love to finish, but I don't think I will: - I started a translation of my super old BJR/OC (Outlander) fic but I had a really hard time getting over the embarrassment of reading my old fic - I have a few snippets of a continuation for the J/J/J series (Outlander) and it would be very fun but I'm not sure if I'll ever be in the mood to finish it - I also started a modern Enjou/Aether fic (Genshin Impact) that would be super cute but it's probably too much work compared to my investment in that fandom

16. What are your writing strengths? POV. I think I'm good at showing the POV character's personality. And I sink my teeth into that deep POV and don't let go. You won't catch me slipping into a different POV in the next paragraph, and I'm sort of proud of that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plot? lmao It's complicated for me. I can't come up with an intricate plot before I start writing. I need to start writing and then halfway through move the puzzle pieces around. It's difficult for me to wrap my head around it. I also think that sometimes I get so focused on setting something up that I don't realize that the reader might think I'm setting something else up if that makes sense. That's definitely an area I could improve on.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I don't like it. I'm fluent in 3 languages and I've written fic in 2. But I don't like writing or reading dialogue in another language in a fic because I think it disrupts the flow of reading. For me, it's less about the fear of making a mistake in a language that isn't my native tongue (because this one isn't, for example, lol) and it's more about worrying that it won't be enjoyable for someone who doesn't speak that language. Even if you provide translations it's just a lot of effort to scroll back and forth.

A word here and there is fine for me, or if you can cleverly convey language barriers by adding a few sentences. But otherwise, I would just rather write what language they are supposed to be speaking in.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Uh I think HP, back in high school. But that just shows my age lol

20. Favorite fic you've ever written? That is so difficult to answer. It's either "put my heart in your pocket" or "moral compass for hire".

[cowherderess]

tagged by: @itsagutthing 💛

last song: I’ve been very into “My Best Friend’s Weddings” by the Chicks this month (my top track on spotify). the song i literally just listened to was “Donal agus Morag” by Altan (I just watched the ep of Derry Girls where they encounter an Irish speaker and it inspired me to listen to my Irish playlist. I have, intermittently, over the years, attempted to learn Irish myself) 

last show/series: Gilmore Girls rewatch

currently watching: Derry Girls season 3, and I’m catching up on Abbott Elementary. (edit: And Bake-Off! I forgot!)

favorite color: pink

sweet, spicy, or savory: i’ve got a terrible sweet tooth 

currently reading: I just finished Clanlands by Sam Heughan and Graham McTavish, who co-star on Outlander–– it’s a travelogue about a trip they took around Scotland together. I found them a bit annoying as people sometimes, but their love of Scotland and its history got me through. My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.

what i'm working on: I have an ongoing multichap for Ted Lasso which I hope to finish before season 3 (since i started it before season 2, ha ha... multichaps were a mistake) and also a ficlet for the Halloween 1p4a

currently obsessed with: Ted Lasso, of course. Also, watching how the leaves are changing each day on the route I walk to work. 

tagging: @broadwaybaggins @coachlasso @carebohe @dollsome-does-tumblr @jakeperalta @ohtendril @dee-thequeenbee @avasrhodes or anyone who wants to!

[theater-of-the-mind]

Prompt Fic: Rose Tinted Memories

Doing some writing practice with ficlets some prompts from this list.

AO3 Version can be found here.

 “Thank you for agreeing to help.”

 -o-o-o-o-o-

 “Thank you for agreeing to help.” Khadgar said, his voice was barely above a whisper. He could barely believe that his former master was standing at his side. That they would face Sargeras and the Legion together. 

 Fear rolled around in the Archmage’s stomach. Fear of failure, but also fear that this moment was just a dream. That, with a blink, Medivh wouldn’t be there and Khadgar would find himself alone.

 Alone. Such a simple word that held so much weight and terror for Khadgar. He had been alone before, many times. He had lost so much, so many people over the years. One would think that he’d have gotten used to it, numb to it. But it still hurt now, just as much as it did when he plunged a dagger into Medivh’s chest all those years ago.

 Medivh blinked. Khadgar’s words caught him a little off guard. He had been enjoying the relative silence with his former apprentice as they looked out at Azaroth from the Vindicaar. He had been so enamored with the breathtaking view of their world that he almost missed Khadgar’s words entirely.

 Medivh had originally planned to leave after the defeat of Viz’aduum in the upper reaches of his tower home. He was ready to do it but that look Khadgar gave as he asked him to stay. Seeing him standing there, having come so far but still being the Young Trust, he knew under it all. Medivh’s feet were suddenly lead. He couldn’t bring himself to leave.

 “I’m not sure how useful I’ll be. Your friend Turalyon says I’m a potential threat. He’s probably not wrong.” Medivh admitted.

 The mention of Turalyon and the fight Khadgar had with him over Medivh made his stomach twist. His hold on Atiesh tightened a little, as they had thrown harsh words back and forth between them.

 Lately, it had seemed like the universe had been giving some things back to Khadgar. Alleria and Turalyon were here. He had friends in his champions; he had Medivh back, of all things. Yet, everything was still ‘off’. Alleria and Turalyon, he cared about dearly, were very different from when they last saw each other. Both changed by void and light. Turalyon was much harsher, even allowing for his wife to be locked up by Xe’ra. Alleria was wrapped in the embrace of the void. She was colder, more venomous. Khadgar found himself worrying about her, for her sanity. She always had a mean streak. He remembered the times he used to butt heads with Alleria in the past. But this was different. This was much more dangerous.

 Khadgar quietly mourned his friends all over again. That small part of himself that hoped against all hope that they’d be together again finally died. Khadgar had to wonder if the fond memories he had of them were truly real. Being there in their presence, listening to them as they spoke, memories bubbled up. Both the good and bad. Every argument he had with Alleria, his crush on Turalyon, and the pained disappointment when they became a pair. Khadgar still loved them, he still cared about them, but the three of them were more flawed than he cared to admit. He held on to his rose-tinted memories to help him get through the toughest times. 

 Now, that was all peeled away. Khadgar found his ironclad resolve start to waver.

“I’ve been living as a hermit for a long time.” Medivh spoke up, breaking Khadgar away from his thoughts. “Going out now and then for supplies, doing tasks for people in Darkshire. I would tell myself that it was a self-imposed punishment.” Medivh gave Khadgar a moment to let it all sink in. “I wanted to see you when I heard you had returned from Draenor…Or, ‘Outland’, as it’s known now. I even traveled all the way to Dalaran…”

 The memory of that day was still fresh in Medivh’s mind. The feel of his hammering heart as he walked the streets of the mage city. The goosebumps that rose from his skin as he feared recognition, even with how unlikely it was. Disguise aside, his time was a good number of years ago. It was highly unlikely any civilian would have realized who he was, let alone a young student. Still, there may have been someone out there that could. The anxiety only grew with gradual over stimulation of everything Dalaran, from the magic flaunted about the markets to the crowds of civilians, students, and adventurers crept up on him.

 It all boiled over, the moment he caught sight of Khadgar. He was being shown around the city by some eager students. He looked far older then, having a beard that went down to his knees. His hair was all grey, save for a thick streak of pure, bright white that Medivh recognized as Khadgar's signature Mullen stripe. It was him. It really was Khadgar, there and alive. Medivh's feet moved on their own, marching towards him. It took a minute for his mind to catch up with his body's actions. One of the students noticed him, eyeing him, and suddenly it all became too much. Medivh ducked into an alleyway before Khadgar could turn around to see him.

 He couldn't do it. Medivh couldn't face him. So he fled.

 “Honestly, I was just hiding from the world, and the repercussions of my crimes.” Medivh admitted to himself more than anything. It was a truth that needed to be said, that he needed to accept. “I separated my study from the rest of the tower, never realizing what was happening within it. That Moroes and my friends are still there, cursed and having to put up with demons and adventurers. Even now, I’m terrified of facing Sargeras, of the idea that he might…that I might…” Medivh didn’t finish. He looked down at one of his hands and found it trembling. Turalyon had raised the idea that Sargeras might try to use Medivh against them. As much as the magus didn’t want to admit it, it was a very real possibility. “I’m just a coward, Khadgar.”

 “Then why did you stay?” Khadgar asked. There was no accusation in his voice.

 Medivh slowly closed his trembling hand into a fist. “...I...don’t know. I was going to leave, but I couldn’t.”

 “I’d like to think that if there’s one thing I understand, it’s you, Medivh.” Khadgar said with a weary smile. “You were never the type to simply do as you were told. Even back then, you fought Sargeras’ control as much as you could. I’m sure I would have been a pile of ashes if you hadn’t.” Khadgar’s smile grew more fond, he blinked and Medivh could see his eyes had begun to tear up. “I think the two of us standing here, together again, is proof of that.”

 Medivh felt his face heat up. He broke eye contact with Khadgar and returned his gaze to Azaroth. “It was because you asked me to, Khadgar. I saw you there and for a moment, I saw that awkward lad the Kirin Tor threw at me.” Medivh felt his own eyes sting as it was their turn to tear up. “You’ve changed so much but you’re still ‘Young Trust’. You wanted me here and I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘no’ to you.”

 Khadgar couldn’t help the blush that creeped its way into his face. He chewed lightly on his lower lip as he tried to pick out the words he wished to say. 

 “I’m afraid too, Medivh.” Khadgar admitted. “I’ve made so many mistakes as a leader and poor choices as a person. We’re both flawed and damaged people. But I can’t deny that I feel braver with you here, with me.” Khadgar took a chance, reached over, and took Medivh’s hand into his own. He threaded their fingers together. When Medivh gently squeezed back, he felt his heart flutter. “I don’t just want to defeat Sargeras, I want to come out of this alive with you.”

 Medivh couldn’t help but smile a little. “I…wouldn’t mind leaving the tower more after this. Maybe…we could…? Ah…I…”

 “I’d love to show you around Dalaran.” Khadgar said. “I know you never liked it, but there are excellent places to eat. There’s also a very famous bookshop there that has more of those steamy romance novels…”

 “Dear light, you saw all of those?!” Medivh laughed halfway through the sentence.

 “I’ve always known about your smut collection. I had to organize those too back when I was cleaning your library.”

 Medivh’s face grew so hot, so fast that he felt a little lightheaded. His free hand rose up to cover his face. Laughter bubbled up from his chest and broke free. It was light, warm, and almost melodic. It brought a warmth to the room that Khadgar knew so well. At that moment, Medivh was lighter, more vibrant.

 “Excuse me…” a familiar drawling voice spoke. Moroes had arrived, with broom and dustpan in hand. The ever loyal steward refused to let Khadgar and Medivh go off without him. Surprising them both in his ability to leave Karazhan’s tower. Moroes gestured both magi to step aside as he began to sweep up what Khadgar noticed were small, golden crystalline shards. “Honestly, you’d think people around here would know to sweep up random bits of glass. If this junk gets into their hooves, it’ll cause them all sorts of problems.”

 Medivh’s brow furrowed as he stared at the collection of shards that were in Moroes’ dustpan. “Huh, so that’s what that occasional ‘crunch’ under my boots was…”

 “Um, that’s…Khadgar paled as he realized quickly what Moroes was sweeping up. “...That’s not glass.”

 Medivh looked to Khadgar, and then the realization hit him. “Oh, that’s the naru your moody purple friend blew up, isn’t it?”

 “Y-yep…” Khadgar could hear tiny, disjointed tones coming from the shards.

 “I don’t care what it is!” Moroes huffed. “It’s a mess, and it’s everywhere! Do your mage thing and help me clean.”

 “Magic!? Oh no, I couldn’t! I’d never!” Medivh said as an impish smile spread across his face. “I seem to remember a certain someone telling me that magic didn’t belong with cleaning. That all you need is good old-fashioned elbow grease and--”

 “Medivh.” Moroes’ voice was firm. He crossed his arms and gave the magus a firm look. “Enough of your sass or I’ll box you on your ears.”

 “Yes, yes, Mother Hen…” Medivh said, his smile turning warmer. He had very much missed Moroes and was thankful to have him back. He raised both of his hands into the air and his fingers gave a loud, sharp ‘snap’.

 Arcane crackled as mana flowed from Medivh and swirled in the air before shaping itself into multiple brooms. They floated off and went about sweeping and cleaning around the Vindicaar.

 Khadgar would take whatever levity he could get. Being there with Moroes and Medivh was grounding. Something he needed for the trials to come, for when they finally faced Sargeras.

 They would defeat him and get out of it alive, together. Khadgar didn’t need to hold on to rose-tinted memories to push him forward. There was so much to look forward to in the future.

 -The End-