#also if anyone’s interested i’m thinking about rewriting the first couple chapters of rot because my writing style has changed a lot

[tellofunni]

Made some refs for my Rot AU

I am a fluffy Iterators enthusiast and I will always draw them with hair

[nosleepuntilvacation]

3, 7, 22, 23, 48, 50!

This post ended up being really long, so… answers below the cut!

3. In your opinion, what’s your best fic? 

So far, I’m really proud of how The Most Glamorous Puzzle of All is turning out; it’s giving me exercises in character development, and I can write in a lot of different styles depending on the prompts and what I choose to do with them. As the summary for that fic mentions, chapters can be anywhere between silly, angsty, and fluffy. Also, I’m having fun seeing how these two work together, both as friends and as a couple - and hey, it’s Papyton fluff, and it’s really hard to go wrong with that, in my opinion!

As for my oneshots, I really like a lot of them, but I can’t help but feel proud of With You in My Sights for condensing the development of the relationship into six brief scenes and still having it come out with nice pacing (at least in my opinion).

(I’m also quite proud of some of my NSFW fics, but given that they’re… well, NSFW, I’d rather not discuss them on this blog, since I’m trying to keep it family-friendly over here. I do have a NSFW sideblog, but so far, all I’ve done over there is publish links to my fics with the occasional text post about one of them.)

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)? 

I know I want to see Glamorous Puzzle completed with all 100 chapters, but I also really want to publish more chapters for my pro wrestling AU Contendertale; I have lots of worldbuilding planned for that fic, and it’s gonna be really cool! (At least, I hope…) Also, I hope to publish more chapters to my Undertale/Mother 1 crossover Sing a Melody of Determination someday, though I think I may need to rewrite that one a little; back when I wrote it, I was still open to referring to Frisk and Chara with non-canon pronouns, but now that I’ve changed my mind about that and started referring to them exclusively with their canonical they/them pronouns, I think I should edit the story accordingly before I continue. I do have lots of cool plans for that fic, too…

(Also, I should get off my lazy behind and finally finish the final chapter of Frisk and Asriel’s Special Day; I’ve already written most of it, but I just have a little more that I need to finish.)

Heck, maybe someday, if I ever return to the Digimon fandom, I could finally finish my fic Heroes Wear Green; I may need to do a little tweaking here and there, but I had so many awesome plans for that story, and I don’t want them to go to waste (but at the same time, I’m reluctant to hand any of my stories off to anyone else). That being said, given that I’m not anywhere near as much into Digimon as I used to be, it might not happen anytime soon; besides, I still have all those cool Undertale stories to finish.

22. Has there ever been anyone who’s made you freak out because they read your work and followed/favorited/reviewed? 

Well, for starters, several months ago when I published a little story about Mettaton going stargazing with Papyrus and asking him a certain question, the very same person who sent this ask left a nice review for that fic; given that I’d read a number of his fluff pieces and liked them (though I was kinda shy about leaving kudos or reviews at the time), as well as him being a popular Papyton writer, my thought process was pretty much “wait, you think my stories are good? Wowie!” In general, whenever a popular Papyton author leaves a nice review on my work, it gives me a “whoa!” feeling because their work probably inspired mine, even if only in the slightest of ways.

23. What’s the nicest review you’ve ever gotten? 

It’s hard for me to pick just one, so here are just a few of my favorites (note: some of these are just excerpts from longer reviews):

you had me at “tooth-rotting fluff” in the tags. I love this stuff, it feels utterly soul-cleansing. -review for The Joys of Sleeping In (look familiar?)

[…]And I always look forward to reading this book, every time I see there’s a new chapter, I must admit, I squeal a bit xD-review for chapter 42 of Glamorous Puzzle

[…]“Who the hell am I?

I AM hell” I swear to God that was the greatest thing I’ve ever read! -review for chapter 43 of Glamorous Puzzle, from the same reviewer directly above, referring to a quote in that chapter that I was hoping people would like, since I’m proud of that quote as well.

[…]I can’t believe I missed so many good NoSleepUntilVacation stories!  I need to catch up![…] -review for A Cool Day for a Cool Dude; this one made me feel like “whoa, my work is that good?”

There were a couple of other ones for one of my NSFW stories, and while both are too long to be posted here, they both warmed my heart to a huge degree (hint: one of them should look quite familiar to the person who sent this ask!)

48. Does anyone you know from outside of fandom know you write fanfic? Are they involved in the same fandom too?

I prefer to keep my fanfic life and my IRL life separate, since there are people in my life who I would prefer didn’t know about this hobby of mine, for various reasons. Since a lot of what I write involves a slightly niche pairing, and some of it is NSFW, and the vast majority of my writings are Undertale (a controversial topic in several circles), I’m kinda nervous about bringing it up. I have met some Undertale fans in real life, though, but given that they were my classmates in team projects, we didn’t really talk about Undertale as much as we talked about the assignments we were doing.

50. Has writing fanfic had a significant impact on your life? Would you say it’s entirely positive?

The thing about writing fanfic (for me at least) was that I had to write quite a few duds before I struck gold. And back in my earliest days, I wrote a lot of duds; it’s for this reason that I often feel unsure about ever returning to the Digimon fandom, since a lot of what I wrote was mediocre at best and disgraceful at worst (characters in-name-only, lots of lolrandom humor, the heroes looking like total dorks because I was in a phase of liking the villains the best - all while removing the traits that made them villains, etc.) and it was only around the time shortly before I left the fandom that I really started to take my writing seriously. It may be hard for me to think of some of the characters (both heroes and villains) without thinking of how I horribly mangled everything about them for some cheap attempts at “comedy”.

So that’s the negative side of my fanfic writing; now onto the positive! Since starting this hobby, I’ve slowly become more confident in expressing myself, and I’m believing in my own writing skills more and more. Also, knowing that a story of mine could be the thing to brighten someone’s day (as shown in some of the reviews I quoted above) is always a good motivator. Especially since a lot of what I write is close to my heart; it’s stuff that I would like to read myself. Another big thing is that, when I was younger, I was hoping to become a good artist so I could animate cartoons; I never quite got the hang of the intricacies of drawing, but I’ve noticed that my writing has definitely gotten better, so I’ve realized that maybe, just maybe, this is where my true talent lies.

And, of course, I’ve made a lot of friends (and, at one point, even found love) through both reading and writing fanfiction, and while not all of those friendships have lasted (sadly, the romantic relationship didn’t last, either), the people I’ve met because of this hobby are still very special to my heart. I think it’s safe to say that I owe a lot of my friendships, directly or indirectly, to my fanfic writing; given that, when I first started out, I was - in real life - the shy, easily-startled girl who got bullied a lot, it was much easier for me to let my guard down around people who didn’t know my IRL identity. Even though my situation has gotten better since then, I still find it easier to make friends online than in real life, since I’m more likely to find people who share common interests, like Undertale or favorite bands… or fanfiction!

[eloarei]

Damsel and Company in Distress (aka “DamselCo.”)

Chapter “it’s the beginning of the story so I guess we’ll call it One”  (So, everybody’s got that one original fic, right? The one that when someone says, “your original story” that’s the one they think of? This is mine. I originally started writing it when I was sixteen. Which was 12 years ago, god help me. This past November, as part of NaNoWriMo, I started rewriting it. (Let’s be honest: “again”.)  Someone please humor me and read this.)  IT STARTS HERE >.  It was said that the northern kingdoms were, at one point, a singular country, ruled by a single monarch. Now, people both in the north and elsewhere had differing opinions on whether the dissolution was a good or a bad thing, but there was an undeniable fact: turning one kingdom into upwards of a hundred increased the number of princesses almost exponentially. This was good news for the knights of the region, who suddenly had a lot more to do with their lives, because those princesses sure were not going to rescue themselves. There were, honestly, more princesses than anyone knew what to do with. The sudden increase in knightly activity resulted in the creation of an agency to keep track of them and the princesses they rescued, and while it wasn't strictly necessary to go through those official channels, the simple fact of the matter was that nobody would take a knight seriously if he didn't, or if the agency rated him poorly. They also wouldn't take him very seriously if he was not, in fact, a 'him', but this did not become an issue until many decades after the agency's formation, and even then, most everybody ignored the issue anyway. After all, the mere concept of a female knight was silly and of little consequence. XxX It was a dark and stormy mid-afternoon. There really wasn't any reason for it to be, but that was weather for you. It was supposed to have been a decent day, but the immediate area was void of any good weathermancers; 'supposed to have been' was hardly more than a guess from one of the local farmers. Anyway, it wasn't quite raining yet, just windy with a lot of dark clouds blowing about. So, the knight that was struggling up the hill was luckily not having to slog through too much mud, which was good, because the wind was proving enough of a challenge, given how steep the hill was. Before terribly long (and after only a few times being whipped across the face by thorny branches), the knight reached the apex of the hill, upon which stood quite a tall stone tower. (That wasn't a surprise or anything, no. It was, actually, exactly the reason the knight had been climbing the hill in the first place.) Also luckily, the massive wooden door into the tower was not locked or barred, although it was awfully heavy. The bottom level of the tower was entirely empty, as long as you didn't count piles of bones and rotting corpses as anything. The knight did not, since skeletons were fairly irrelevant when considering any of the few reasons one would bother to come to a tower like this, those reasons being treasure and princesses. (If one was a necromancer, now, that would be a different story. However, this knight was not a necromancer, nor was any other knight in the history of the agency (at least so far as the agency knew; the exception would be a story for another time, if, indeed, there was an exception).)   A few boxes and pieces of furniture littered the second floor, but they were all picked clean of any useful, interesting, or otherwise worthy items. And this was alright, anyway, since really the knight was not here to pilfer some noble's second-best miscellany. The third floor was essentially the exact same as the second, in the ways that counted. On the fourth floor, there was a dragon.

Now, the knight was rather good at swordfighting, but dragons are terrifying. Certainly some people liked them, but those people were at least a little crazy. Fighting a dragon was also a little crazy, so the knight did sort of a bare-bones version of a duel, which mostly involved barely dodging a blast of fire-breath and a couple of swipes of the dragon's inordinately sharp claws, and slashing at the dragon's tail just enough to make it screech in pain and leave off the chase, allowing the knight to climb to the final floor (attic notwithstanding). The fifth and final floor held the prize. At least, it was supposed to, based on everything the knight knew about princess towers. As was implied by the name, they typically held princesses. This one, being home to a dragon as well, was sure to hold quite the princess. The princess was not waiting at the top of the stairs for her valiant rescuer, so her valiant rescuer had to do a little searching before getting properly to the rescue part. The ornate bed was around the corner, which seemed a likely place for the princess to be hiding. Or, well, not hiding. Taking a nap, maybe; it was a dark and stormy mid-afternoon, after all. So the knight approached the pretty drapery-hung four-poster, took hold of the edge of the curtain, and tore it (gently) open. What was presented was pretty clearly not what either party had anticipated. “Are you kidding me?” the knight whined, glaring down at what ought to have been a princess, but which definitely had an Adam's apple. Aside from that, the person also had a slightly squarer jaw than was usual for a princess, somewhat less manicured eyebrows, and a little bit more sideburn. It was only a hint, but a hint of sideburn was still too much for a princess, as they were typically girls. The knight wasn't the only one in the room who had an issue with what they saw. “I can't believe this,” said the person formerly assumed to be a princess. He rose up on his elbows, out of the traditional sleeping-princess pose, and glared right back at the knight, who was clearly (by his estimation) an impostor. After all, knights were tall and had swords and wore armor and were male. The person standing before him was not male; ergo, this person was not a knight. “What the hell is a boy doing in a princess tower?!” the knight asked, seemingly rhetorically before asking again in a more direct and less rhetorical fashion. “What are you doing in a princess tower?!” The boy (call him a prince) scoffed. “What am I doing? What are you doing? I was waiting for a knight to rescue me, a real knight! Do you know how long I've been waiting?! It's been... I don't even know how long, it's been so long!” He sat up more fully, pulling himself into a cross-legged position on the mattress. Then he sighed. The knight huffed in frustration and crossed her arms. “I am a real knight! You're the liar in this situation. And of the two of us, I think I'm the more inconvenienced right now. Nobody is ever going to take me seriously if I come back with a boy and try to claim he's a princess.” “I never said I was a princess,” the prince said. “No, but it's kind of implied. Towers like this only hold three things: treasure, princesses, and the dragons that guard them, and there wasn't a hint of treasure in the whole rest of the tower.” “Yeah, well, how do you--” the prince began, before trailing off with a concerned look on his face. He narrowed his eyes at the knight, looking very young and confused and, admittedly, not all that un-princesslike. “The dragon, she was here earlier. How did you get past her?” “I fought it, of course,” the knight said, standing taller and putting her hands on her hips. “What sort of coward do you take me for?” The prince didn't bother to give an answer. Instead, he hopped up out of the bed and ran to the stairwell, his bare feet slapping the hard stone floor, the long end of his tabard robe trailing behind him. The knight followed after him, rounding the corner of the stairwell just in time to see him run up to the dragon, which was huddled up in a pitiful little (well, relatively speaking) lump on the opposite side of the room, licking its tail wound. “Oh, Teresa,” the prince cooed. “You poor thing, are you alright? God, you're bleeding. Here, here, let me--” He crouched down over the dragon's tail and hovered his hands above the gash. “How did it go?” he asked himself, before hurriedly murmuring an incantation of some sort. A white light flared in the wound for a moment, and then he stopped, apparently satisfied. “I think you'll be fine now. But don't let yourself get hurt anymore by these terrible knights. Just eat them next time, okay?” “Sorry I didn't give it a chance,” the knight called sarcastically. The prince stood and came over to where the knight still stood in the doorway. “'She',” he said. “My dragon is a girl. You're not very good with genders, are you?” “You're one to talk,” the knight said, stepping back into the safety of the narrow stairwell, in case the dragon decided it wanted to come after her again. Or, fine, unless the dragon decided she wanted to come after her again. She was just slightly too big. “I told you, I never claimed to be a princess or a girl,” the prince said, glaring up at the knight, and now she could see that he was fairly short for a guy. Actually, she realized, he was probably pretty young. “How old are you, anyway?” she asked. “Seventeen,” he said, looking a little defiant. “Why? Is that gonna affect whether or not you decide to rescue me?” The knight shook her head, messy reddish hair flying around her face. “No,” she said. “I'll rescue you anyway. I mean, it's not gonna count, but I'll still do it. Unless you wanna stay here?” The prince scowled. “Not really,” he said, a cross between adamant and resigned. “I don't think my family will be too pleased I was rescued by some girl, but it's better than hanging around here any longer.” Nodding, the knight said, “Fine then. Get your stuff and let's go.” She followed the prince back upstairs, but not before casting a nervous glance back over her shoulder at the dragon. (It was now sleeping quite peacefully. She. She was now sleeping quite peacefully.) The prince looked around for a minute, seeming a bit lost, and then dashed to what must have been a closet. He emerged a minute later wearing some small flat shoes and a sleeveless overcoat on top of his tabard robe. “Um, alright,” he said. “You're not taking anything else with you?” the knight asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Um, no? Unless you want something from here? I mean, it's all pretty good stuff, I guess.” “Thanks, but I'll pass.” Although the blankets and tapestries and books all looked like they might be worth something, or even just nice to have as a sort of trophy, she hadn't come prepared to take treasures with her, and the idea of carrying a bundled-up rug under her arm all the way home just wasn't appealing. They stopped to check on the dragon again on their way out (well, the prince did; the knight stayed out of striking distance, in case it snapped out of the apparent trance the prince's presence put it in. ...Put her in). “Are you gonna be okay by yourself for a while, Teresa?” he asked. The dragon nudged her snout up into his outstretched hand in a way that was really cute and almost made the knight a little sick and also made her miss her own dog, who was probably at home, chasing mom's turkeys in her absence. Satisfied that the dragon was able to fend for itself, the prince led the way down to the first floor and out into the day... where the stormy winds had subsided and left the sky a pale wisp-strewn late-afternoon blue. He took a deep breath and turned to face the knight, his arms swinging slightly at his sides and a cheerful smile on his face. Apparently all he'd needed was a little fresh air to set his mood to rights. “So, where are we headed?” he asked. “I've never been rescued before, so pretty much all I know is about riding off into the sunset. I've got no clue what comes after that.” The knight smirked. “Well, first of all, we're going south-east, not west, so we'll have the sun at our backs, mostly. Second of all, I, um, didn't bring a horse, so we won't be doing any riding at all. I hope you like hiking!” “Oh,” the prince said, deflating a little. “Okay then. Lead the way, I guess, Miss...?” “Addisson,” the knight said. “Addisson Marianne Lillith MacMurray. And seriously, don't call me 'miss'.” “God, that's a long name,” the prince said, looking a little horrified. “Is it?” Addisson asked. “What's yours then?” “Ellery,” the prince replied shortly. “Ellery...?” Addisson waited, assuming there would be a few more names to follow the first. “...Mmm... yeah,” Ellery said. “It's Ellery.” He nodded. Addisson laughed, a little disbelieving. “Just Ellery, huh? What kingdom are you from where they don't give people middle and last names?” “The South,” Ellery said with a shrug. “Ahh,” Addisson said, as if that explained it, when, in reality, she knew next to nothing about the South except that it was big and sandy and they made nice fabric. Oh, and that it was south of here. “Well then, uh, Prince Ellery. Let's get going. It's a bit of a walk to the next town and I-- wait, you are a prince, right? I just sort of assumed.” “I'm a prince,” Ellery confirmed, following as Addisson led the way down the hill at just barely too brisk of a pace to keep up with easily. (She was wearing boots, after all, and had experience with climbing and un-climbing hills. He, on the other hand, was wearing flats and had perhaps never climbed anything more treacherous than the occasional sand dune. Sand dunes could be dangerous, yes, but they didn't have big rocks and roots to trip over, and if you fell then you'd usually slide down, instead of tumbling down to break your crown on a tree stump.) “So, in the South, do they usually put princes in towers?” Addisson asked from some yards ahead of him. “Because up here, it's typically just princesses.” “Oh, um, no,” Ellery said. He was a little distracted, trying not to break his neck, but he tried to give as coherent an answer as he could. “I'm probably the first. You see, I have an older sister, but by the time she was old enough to go in a tower, she was already a clear favorite to be the next leader, so everyone thought it would be a waste. Besides, she had a fiance already. Actually, they'll probably be getting married any day now.” Addisson waited at the foot of the hill for Ellery to catch up, and then set off again at her practiced pace. “Okay, but why put you in the tower?” she called over her shoulder. “Why not just... sell it or something?” “It's customary for a monarchy to put one of their heirs up for rescue, isn't it? I think it's-- ahh, damn.” He stopped for a minute as his shoe came loose. Addisson waited for him some feet away, though she looked a little impatient. As soon as he got the flat jammed back on his foot, he hopped along after her and picked up his explanation. “I think it's written down in one of our treatise or something, that all participating countries had to do it. It's supposed to foster cooperation and partnership between families, or something like that.” “Really,” Addisson said, as if she wasn't actually all that interested or sure Ellery knew what he was talking about. “I'm pretty sure there are ruling families around here who don't bother, so you guys probably could have gotten away without doing it.” “Oh,” Ellery said, which effectively ended their conversation for the next hour or so. It was getting to be dark by the time Addisson decided Ellery couldn't go much farther, so they decided to settle for the night. “What? No, I can keep going,” Ellery insisted, at which Addisson scoffed. “Can you, now? Because it's been daylight out so far, and you've already lost your shoes more times than I've bothered to count. If you did that in the dark, we'd never find them.” She pointed at the knees of his calf-length pants, which had been torn up from the number of times he'd stumbled. “And you're beginning to look like a beggar. I think we ought to stop for the night.” Reluctantly, Ellery agreed. (Not that he had much of a choice in the matter. She was his guide, and he'd probably get himself eaten by wolves if he tried to wander off without her. ...Which necessarily made him feel very trusting of her, all of a sudden.) So they found a dry dirt clearing between a cluster of trees, and Addisson set about making a campfire, while Ellery mostly watched. She dug around in her pack and produced a little bag of food-strips of some sort, along with a thin, rolled-up blanket, which she handed to Ellery. “Sorry, all I've got for dinner is this turkey jerky,” she said, handing him a few pieces as they sat down around the fire. “It's pretty fresh though. My mom made it right before I left home, which was... I guess about a week or two ago.” “A week or two is fresh?” Ellery asked, looking dubiously at the dried bark-like food he was holding. “Well yeah,” Addisson said. “For jerky. This stuff can last for months.” Ellery considered the stuff, then took a bite out of it-- or tried to. It was really quite tough, though it had a savory flavor, once he got to chewing it. “Huh. It's not so bad,” he mentioned. It wasn't a familiar flavor, though, and it left him wondering what kind of strange Northern plant this 'turkey' could possibly be. He guessed it might be a type of mushroom, but he didn't bother to ask. After eating, Ellery laid down by the fire, trying to get a good amount of blanket both beneath him and covering him. It wasn't easy, and he didn't sleep especially well. He did fall asleep eventually, though, as he was shaken awake by Addisson once the sun had begun to peek through the trees. He shivered and tried to pull the blanket closer around him. “Cold...” he complained, watching his breath turn a little white in the chilly morning air. “What, like it was much warmer in your tower?” Addisson asked, looking down at him with her arms crossed. “I don't recall any central heating pipes.” “Dragon's breath kept it warm,” Ellery explained shortly, huddling further under the thin blanket, trying to adjust to the cool air before subjecting himself to it fully. Addisson responded with a 'meh' and left him for a few minutes while she cleaned up the campsite. “Alright, prince,” she said, nudging him with the toe of her boot after she felt he'd had long enough. “Let's get going. The town's just a few hours from here, and if we get there before midday we might be able to get some warm food before handling our business. What say you?” Ellery peeked out from under the blanket, looking vaguely miserable but also a little excited by the prospect of warm anything. “I say 'will you let me carry the blanket'?” With a short huff of amusement and a wry smile, Addisson nodded. “It's all yours,” she said, before she reached down and hauled him up by the forearm. “Now, onward. I'm tired of sleeping in trees.” “You slept in a tree?” Ellery asked, cocking his head to the side in a birdlike way as he trotted up beside her. They spent the next few hours discussing basic survival strategies, and by the time they arrived at the town, Ellery felt like he'd learned more in the past day than in the past year about living in the North. It was a strange and cold place, but the more he saw and heard of it, the more it grew on him. Now the town they came upon was hardly more than a dirty trading post, situated at a crossroads of two popular routes. Seven or eight wooden buildings lined the churned-mud path that served as the town center, and a handful more were stacked behind them. “Well, this place is... rustic,” Ellery commented, following Addisson to the largest of the buildings. “It's damn near heaven, is what it is,” she responded, laughing. “You haven't been traveling long enough until a place like this nearly sets your heart on fire.” Ellery choked on a laugh. “You take this knight thing pretty seriously, don't you.” She didn't respond, but Ellery got the feeling she wasn't offended. She held the door for him when they entered her chosen building. TBC whenever I get around to it. (Although I could dredge up the old version for you, if you wanted; that’s like 20k and is only, oh, 8 years old.)