#fourteen angst mmmm

[batsyvie]

she reminds him of his rose

[queen-scribbles]

Fic Writer Meme

tagged by @swtorpadawan

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 

247 from fourteen different fandoms. I could bump the number a little if I remembered to crosspost my 7kpp fics xD

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 

860,613 holy f*CK man

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 

I’m gonna do by hits, bc I know two of the top five by kudos got hit with the stupid kudos bot and aren’t accurate :|

Third Time’s the Charm(PoE), Of Wardens and Pariahs(Dragon Age), Everything(SWtOR), Redux(SWtOR), The Basics(PoE) (you have no idea how much it pleases me that both the SWtOR ones are Tragen/Jaesa :3 my babies deserve it)

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

Oh, yes! I appreciate people taking time to let me know what they think and want to thank them for that. Sometimes it takes me a while to get around to replying, but I try to reply to everything.

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

Ooof. Few contenders... There’s the Tragen/Jaesa one when she thinks he died on the Wild Space Expedition. Or one of the SebHawke ones for Dragon Age focused on when Astrid actually dies bc I left her in the Fade for HLtA :))) OR Following After, which is Greedfall fic, De Sardet & Constantin, so the angst is baked right there.

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

Even more contenders here, since fluff is my jam. xD I’m gonna go with a tie between The Honest Truth and Certain as the Sun, both Edér/Charity(OC) fics for Pillars of Eternity, bc one ends with a proposal and cuddling after a long run of Fake Dating/Mutual Pining(YES that was torture for me to write JUST KISS), and the other ends with their wedding, so. :D

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest one you’ve written? 

Not really. I’ve done a couple with fictional characters coming to the real world or modern AUs, but the closest I usually come is two protags from the same game sharing a universe (AJ and Kira being Wayhaven flatmates and bffs, Harvey and Trinne both getting recruited in OWaP)

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic? 

Not for my writing. I get a few of the backhand “I usually hate Sebastian but he’s cute when you write him :D’ comments on my Sebhawke fics, and and someone once spent half their comment on an OWaP chapter mentioning how they hate Carver bc I gave him a cameo. xD

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

Noooo. I’ll do the lead up(Keme/Jorgan are especially fond of that), but I always ftb for the sex and then cut back.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen? 

Not as far as I know

11. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

Nope. (Anyone ever wants to, they’re welcome to, and I’m honored)

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

Of Wardens and Pariahs 

13. What’s your all time favourite ship? 

Harvey/Trinne, no contest (I love my other ships an awful lot, but those two are just /clenches fist AAAAAHHHHHHHHH)

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

The Brykar longfic, lmao. I keep saying THIS YEAR I’LL DO IT and then other things come up and I don’t. I still want to write it bc it’s a COOL IDEA but idk if it’ll ever happen

15. What are your writing strengths?

Banter and combat scenes, my beloveds.

16. What are your writing weaknesses? 

Arguments and anything that would give me secondhand embarrassment to write xD

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

I used to do it a lot in my Dragon Age stuff, but now I tend more on the side of just doing a word or two that can easily be picked up from context.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Knights of the Old Republic

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

mmmm, I think I’ve written for all fandoms ones I want to. Ships... I’m always adding new ones, lmao 

20. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

All of them. xD I kid, but I really can’t pick a favorite bc I just love so many of them. I will say Unmerited and Taking Initiative were the first things to pop in my head when I saw the question, and The Honest Truth wasn’t far behind. (I’m also really, really proud of With Undue Malice, since it’s a character study of an OC who is not 100% a Nice Person. Which is what you get with a Ruthless/Colonist Shepard in Mass Effect, I guess)

[fortescvez]

[ KIT HARINGTON ] —— [ SEBASTIAN FORTESCUE ] is a [ THIRTY-TWO ] year old [ SON OF THE EARL OF SCARBOROUGH / GHOSTWRITER ]. They identify as a [ BISEXUAL CISMALE ] and I’ve heard that they’re [ EMPATHIC & CAREFREE ] but can also be [ BROODING & STUBBORN ]. [ HE ] has been living in London for [ FOURTEEN YEARS ] and has since been known as the [ VAGABOND ]

hi lovelies, i’m RAFFY, hailing from the possibly worst timezone in existence ( aka GMT+8 ) i love binge watching, playing pubg mobile, using em dashes, and thinking of angst. total segway, we should totally plot cause i’m literally down for anything !! here’s a lil about my baby bash :

— BACKGROUND !!

sebastian dean fortescue was born to lord arthur fortescue, earl of scarborough, and his lady beatrice  — second and middle to two siblings.

life had been pretty normal for bash  — well, as normal as it could be for someone born into a nobel family. piano lessons, horseback riding, fencing; among others. home-schooled meant he was in his own bubble. sheltered wasn't a word he knew at that point in his life.

at the age of seven, his parents decided to enroll him to a private school. baby bash was basically like fish out of water, having never really interacting with many kids his age, not counting kids of similar background as him. schooling would be his first taste of freedom, as his father and mother’s focus on him was gradually lessened, as they would be focusing on other things, such as their respective jobs, and more importantly, their eldest and youngest. 

his relationship with his brother is strained, due to the unspoken rivalry of the two growing up -- bash having much more freedom to do whatever his heart desires, and his brother not having the same option ; while he is closer to the youngest, who shares his carefree nature.

skip a few years and so, when it was time for his higher education, he decided to take english lit & creative writing in london, much to his parents chagrin, since they had wanted him to take something at least medical related. ( he would have, but bash didn’t want his parents hanging over his head if he had took anything medical related )

after finishing his education, a couple times a year, he travels for a month or two to a place he’s never been to, trying things he’s never done before. currently, he’s working as a ghost writer for biographical novels to fund his travels. it’s his life, and he agrees that among the fortescue children, he is the lucky one. 

— PERSONALITY !!

rebel at heart. someone’s telling him not to do something? fam bye, he’ll be out there figuring out how to do the thing anyway.

the type to stop and say hi to animals. yes, he’s that person. also side note, is totally a cat person, but loves dogs too.

that friend gives advice and is always there to listen but never really opens up himself? totally bash, because bottling up everything is totally healthy.

too much responsibility to a thing? bash be like: mmmm, sorry i cant read g2g

making friends? totally good at it. keeping them and making a solid connection? rocket science.

he’s not exactly the life of the party type, but dammit, he’s always down for good times. adventure comes in different shape and form, after all.

soft boy. probably the reason he always comes back to london even though he literally could just stay anywhere is that so he could check in occasionally with the children’s charity he frequents.

TLDR ; 

bash was a sheltered, home-schooled baby until his parents started to focus more on his siblings and jobs, leaving him free to basically do whatever he wants. 

WC ; ( these are very general ideas that we can expand on, if picked )

best / close friends

unlikely friends ( two opposite personalities getting along type )

neighbor

childhood friends whose family that run in the same circle as his

went to the same uni or private school 

literally any kind of ex connection

met during one of his travels and meets again

[ecotone99]

[MF] A misfit misanthrope's manifesto.

I'm not one for journaling. Mostly because it's hard to come by something to write on. I had to steal to write this.

It's been about fourteen centuries since our beloved nation became a country. It is said we threw off the shackles of the greatest empire the world had known. We were glorious, the envy of the world. The greatest cities, trade that spanned the world, the great champion of human dignity and peace... this is my heritage. Until about halfway between our first independence day and now, when enemies we had not expected arose and overthrew us. We proudly resisted of course, but made friends in the wrong places, and our misplaced faith in our own exceptionalism failed.

Since then the world seems to have forgotten the noble goal that defined us. The understanding of something better, a higher state of being than what we experienced in our lifetime. Our overlords see nothing more than the desire to exploit what they can, to take whatever they can stretch their hands over. All grasp, no reach.

Progress? As far as any of us can tell, that ceased a millennia ago. I'm not an educated man: education is reserved for the highly privileged in this post-apocalyptic hellscape. The majority of us seek to scratch a living from the dust, while our latest set of rulers observe and take. Take, take, take. The only business a patriot like me can seek to thrive in has become selling out to these tyrants, becoming footworkers in their exploitation. But it is a shameful business, and those who betray our people are despised.

Our dignity lies in our past. Pardon my verbosity, this angst came to define my life. I love my people, and hate our rulers. Not only do I love my friends and family, but the memory we keep alive. Most importantly, that which makes us distinctive from each and every people group which has subjugated us since our golden age: our morals. This is what we long for the most, that in the old years truth and justice flourished in our land. Funny that morals might make you a rebel. But that has what it has come to. Those who tread us underfoot are free to do so because they lack a code. They lack guilt or shame in every way.

As I grew older I refused to work, lest my earnings go to the powers that be. I became a vagabond. I became a very angry man. Eventually I decided that to release my people I should bite back at our oppressors! What better time than now, when our Independence Day was just a week away? I gathered my friends, stole weapons from the local barracks, became drunk and enraged and behold! There was fighting in the streets! Flame and steel ruled the night and by morning I found myself with a hearty roof over my head, deep in prison. Many had been killed. Including my own people, by my own people. By my own hand perhaps, or at least in my name. For it was I who led the insurrection. And by the laws of both the rulers and my own moral code, I deserved the strictest punishment, which would be administered in two days.

My guilt consumed me, for my actions had been futile and damaging. This would surely tighten the grip of the state on my people. Many of my kin and compatriots had surely died in my name. And of course, all in violation of what we prided ourselves in: our righteous code.

One day and one night I resided in my hole, in the depths of the prison. And on the second morning there was a tremendous commotion in the courtyard above! The crowds had come to the warden, and I could scarcely make out what was said, but it was urgent and angry. There was an exchange between the warden and the raving throngs. "Mmmmff mfff mm mff mmf mmmm!" is all i could hear the warden say. "Give us _____!" My name! My fears were realized. They wished to tear me apart! And then it became worse. "Mmmfff mmmmfmfm mff mmmn?" "Crucify him!" They screamed. So now I knew my fate. And I had no time to prepare myself, as the guards grabbed me and tore me from my cell. Clawing and crying, I fought with all my might. But they brought me out into the glaring sun, on the left of the warden. I stood there but a moment, to see the sweat-drenched, pale face of the warden, and on his opposite side a pitifully beaten and bloody man, done up like some macabre clown in an expensive, deeply stained robe. Immediately I was pushed off into the crowds. Words fall short at describing my confusion. Truly speechless, rather than being torn limb-from-limb I was pushed to the back into obscurity. I was hardly regarded at all! Dumbfounded, the crowd followed the bizarre spectacle out of the courtyard to... well I don't rightly know. My first thought was to run home, to my mother and father.

That night I enjoyed our traditional independence day barbeque, with all the usual fixings. That night was last night, and there's a lot to think about. Why on earth was I spared? Who was that man? Will I be tried again? I know I broke both my people's law and the law's law. I know what I deserve.

Nobody has come after me. In fact the whole city has been quiet all day. Perhaps that man became my scapegoat. I had no part in it, I know that. I'm thankful of course, but confused: I'm nobody special. Just the simple man bumbling through his thoughts. Perhaps I'll find the answer tomorrow.

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