#health is still up and down but i want to start writing original fiction again!

[aureliobooks]

also it’s been ages since i’ve checked my notifs here so if you run a writing/art blog and you’re a newer follower or we haven’t interacted yet, please feel free to reply here so i can start to meet people and re-familiarize myself with writeblr :’) honestly even if we’ve interacted before but it’s just been a while please reach out !! i miss all of you and it’s been far too long

[thickenmyblood]

With 15/20(?) chapters completed for hand in unlovable hand, I still can’t understand how any version of Laurent could have a sexual and romantic relationship with a person he barely knows and clearly doesn’t love. It seems so totally out of his nature. I respect you making this choice for the story you wanted to tell, I guess I’m just curious why you made it. Pacat said that Laurent is an “all or nothing” person, so the idea that he could dump Damen and shortly start hooking up with some random jerk like Maxime is really hard to fathom. The guy seems like a pretentious, performative douchebag that the canon Laurent would have ridiculed and excoriated, not someone he would have considered as any type of partner. Laurent choosing to have sex with someone like that is inconceivable and unrecognizable to me. I love how you write Nicaise and a lot of the other relationships, and again, it’s your story and so whatever characterization you choose is your right! But regardless of whatever in-story reasons your Laurent has for being like this, I hope at some point you as the author will also talk about why you wrote him in this way. Thanks for reading my opinion.

hello! my reply will be below the cut.

i don't think we're at a point in hiuh where you can fully understand why laurent started seeing maxime, so i don't exactly fault you or anyone else for asking this kind of question. this reply will sadly give you very few spoilers on laurent's motivations. what needs explaining will be explained in the fic, and whether you or other readers agree/disagree with it (as in, laurent's intentions and actions and thought process), from a moral or even psychological point of view, exceeds the limits of my writing.

however, what does concern my writing is the characterization aspect of your ask. i understand that fanfiction, by definition, does not exist in a bubble. it is a derivative work. it comes from somewhere else. obviously, when compared to canon (where laurent turned down every single romantic/sexual offer he had before and after damen), hiuh exhibits a lot of contradictions and apparent ooc-ness. it is impossible not to compare fanfiction to its original source. without the og material, there would be no fanfiction.

having said all of this, i think your ask and overall perspective overlooks the main point of the fic itself. in order to understand hiuh (boiled down to its bare tags: a breakup fic), you have to understand why laurent dumped damen. for the first half of the fic, damen himself doesn't understand this. he looks at the truth and denies it, time and time again, rewriting the narration of their break up to fit into a more comfortable lie: he didn't dump me, it was a mutual agreement. later on, once damen has had some character growth, he realizes that it was laurent that initiated the breakup and why.

laurent did not break up with damen because he was cheating on him, because he was bored, because he was suddenly straight. laurent broke up with damen because he felt that damen was hurting nicaise, emotionally and psychologically. in fact, we have seen in early chapters how nicaise absorbed damen's harmful messages on mental health/masculinity/self-expression. whether or not that was the right decision is not the point. whether or not laurent became the Perfect Single Parent after the breakup is not the point. laurent broke up with damen because they were vastly different and they were no longer good for/to each other. that was laurent's reasoning, flawed or not, morally correct or not, hypocritical or not. in real life, people make decisions and convince themselves of why they're right all the time. why should fiction be the exception?

now that we have established that the breakup was not simply a whim on laurent's end, we can perhaps approach laurent's dating life with a more balanced perspective. is laurent truly and irrevocably in love with maxime? so far into the story, damen doesn't know, which means we don't know. he sees them together, they seem happy, he concludes that they're in love. has damen always been right in hiuh and, dare i say, in canon? no. why did laurent start dating someone so radically different from damen and yet so much like him? have you thought about how much damen and maxime might have in common and where they differ? why is maxime more awful than damen? maxime made some bad, reproachable comments. but so did damen at the start of the fic. has damen not been pretentious throughout the fic? has he not thought himself above others, judged them, ridiculed them, and hurt them? has damen not hurt laurent? (yes, laurent also hurt damen, i will address this in a different ask). i know i have said this before, multiple times, and i stand by it: economic class is NOT examined well or thoroughly in hiuh. however, are maxime and damen not rich? do they come from different economic backgrounds? aren't they both slightly out of touch with reality? what is it about maxime that truly gets on your nerves?

it is more than okay to read this version of laurent and 1. not understand why he is the way that he is, given that it hasn't been explained in the story yet and 2. not like it. you and anyone reading the fic is completely, 100% allowed to dislike, hate, loathe, be irritated to the point of tears by this version of him. what i care about is that when the fic is done, you look at him, IN THE VERY SPECIFIC CONTEXT OF THIS STORY, and see a consistent, well-written characterization. this is not about readers rooting for lamen, for laurent, for damen, for true ever lasting love... this is about the story making sense. that is what i care most about: coherence and consistency.

to answer your final question: why did i choose to write laurent like this? i chose to write laurent the way i saw him to be in canon. snarky, smart, sometimes unjustifiably mean, and at his very core self-hating. that is my personal interpretation of laurent. from the moment we disagree on any of those pillars, it becomes quite difficult to think that we are talking about the same character. yes, he is frigid in canon, he is saving himself for the grave, he is not at all promiscuous. but to me, his self-hatred is perhaps his most defining feature. and, obviously, my favorite. which is not to say you can't read laurent as someone that doesn't hate himself in canon. you can. these are not my books, and even if they were i wouldn't dream of telling you what you can or can't think about them. yet this is my vision, this is how i see him.

as for the "all or nothing" quote, i believe you are talking about a snippet from the summer palace. if not, correct me. i have many, many, many issues with that short story. that is why i have decided to exclude further commentary on that from my reply. i hope you understand. either way, I don't see how that statement contradicts what's happened so far in hiuh.

i don't want you or anyone reading this to take my reply as a slap on the wrist or some sort of "angry writer yells at a cloud" exposition. i am not mad, and i like getting questions and comments that challenge my writing, that ask for clarification, that complain. this is part of being a writer and sharing your work with others and i am more than fine with it. i wish, if anything, that i had more time to explain and reply, to quote my own work and give you specific examples for things, but i do not have that luxury.

thank you for your time!

PS. this entire commentary is not to be taken as The Author's Interpretation Is The Holy Word.

[nihyunluvskookie]

and then I met you

[four]

Pairing: Jeonghan × fem reader × Seungcheol

Synopsis: Falling in love with bestfriend’s ex wasn’t something that Jeonghan planned.

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: mention of pregnancy.

Author’s Note: just wanted to tell you, I write for fun and it’s fictional so if anyone doesn’t like what I write, it’s totally fine <3 We can’t love everything we read or come across <3

Happy reading ~

taglist: @scarlet789   @jjeongddol

If you want to get tagged, you can reply me <3

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As week went by Aisha was trying to talk to Seungcheol, in that mean time Aisha informed her bestfriend Jia, she needed someone by her side but the worst timing was Jia had to leave after five days staying over with Aisha because of a business trip.

‘Aisha, you need to go for check-ups and take care of your health. I’ll be back soon probably in one-two weeks okay?’ that was the thing Jia told her and left.

Aisha did agree to that but only she knows what she was going through. She had to take care of her and the baby.

“Jeonghan… hi”

“Hi, how are you feeling?” Jeonghan’s soft voice made her feel better.

“umm, I am fine… I guess” she took a pause, “actually Jia left the day before yesterday… she stayed with me for like five days”

“Yes you told me. Are you feeling any better?” she nodded at his words as if he could see her and he was replying to her softly despite working on something important.

“She had to leave for a business trip, and I guess she will be back after few weeks, she is not sure yet, she’s going as the team leader. so” she trailed off, “I wanted to ask you something, and it’s totally fine if you can’t. I originally thought I would go with Jia but since she’s not here and I…”

“Where do you need to go?”

“I’ve doctor’s appointment tomorrow, in afternoon around 3pm” he looked at his iPad checking his schedule. “It’s totally fine if you-”

“Okay, I will pick you up around 2pm and send me the address”

“You will go with me?” Aisha was surprised, she didn’t expect Jeonghan to agree.

“Yes, let’s meet up tomorrow then.” Somewhere Aisha was thankful to Jeonghan and god.

“Thank you so much Jeonghan.”

“No worries and take care of yourself okay?”

“yes” Aisha tried to sound cheerful, “I’m hanging up then” and she hung up.

Aisha was looking at the clock, she had another dream about Seungcheol and she ended up crying throughout the day, wondering about him. She did trying calling him once again but there was still no response, it’s been more than a week but there was no sign of Seungcheol.

Aisha was trying to cope up with everything when Jia was beside her because she would keep her occupied but then once she left, she’s back to the empty space and her mind is all over Seungcheol, how much she wanted to talk to him and hear his voice.

She heard the doorbell ring, she got up from her sofa and went to open the door.

“Aisha” she looked at Jeonghan who was smiling, she was meeting Jeonghan after almost a week, he still texted her at times and Jeonghan was less worried about her when Jia was staying over.

“Jeonghan, hi”

“Ready to go?” she nodded at his words.

She locked her apartment and went down with Jeonghan. She looked tired in Jeonghan’s eyes, “how are you?” she was taken aback worried if she looked very tired or Jeonghan was just asking without any reasons.

“Me? I am good.” She tried to smile. He was lying to herself along with Jeonghan.

They got into his car, he played some soft music and started driving, “you had an off day today?” she asked suddenly, “no, I had work”

“Then how…” she trailed off

“I took half day” he replied to her looking at the road, “God, why would you do that Jeonghan? I told you it was okay, it was fine, I was okay with it.”

“I wasn’t fine, Aisha. It’s fine, I can do this much.” Aisha was feeling guilty somewhere, Jeonghan had to take half day because of her when it wasn’t even his work or responsibility. It should’ve been Seungcheol.

“By the way… Aisha” he paused, Jeonghan was searching for words to speak he wasn’t sure if she should be bringing this up or not because she haven’t asked Aisha about Seungcheol and how is she dealing with everything. He was trying his best to contact Seungcheol and explain everything but there was no response from his side, he was getting tired of Seungcheol’s stubborn behaviour.

“say it Jeonghan” he took a deep breath before saying the remaining words “are you sure, this is the address because it’s in Seungcheol’s locality.” He stopped the car at traffic and took a glance on her, she turned her head to look outside, trying not to tear up. “Yes. When I booked the appointment two weeks ago, I thought me and Seungcheol could go together then later spend the whole day in his house.” Her voice was very low but Jeonghan heard it and decided not to ask about it anymore. Jeonghan started driving again and Aisha wiped her tears, she thought Jeonghan wouldn’t notice but he did and he was feeling bad for her.

Soon he parked the car, outside the clinic. She was about to open the door but Jeonghan opened it for her. Aisha was feeling tired, but she tried her best to not show anything to Jeonghan and make him worried.

Soon, they went to the waiting area, after Aisha talked at the reception. She was getting anxious and was trying to shrug off all the thoughts. Jeonghan noticed she looked nervous, after all this was her first time. “When did Jia leave?” he randomly started talking about Jia so that he could distract her and it worked. Aisha looked happy while talking about Jia, she truly was happy to have Jia by her side.

She even told how Jia wanted to hangout with Jeonghan, and how she wanted to talk to Seungcheol directly, but at the mention of Seungcheol her voice died down, so Jeonghan switched to another topic. He was trying his best until her name was called.

Jeonghan accompanied her inside to the doctor’s chamber.

Everything was going smooth but the moment doctor wanted to just do a normal check up of Aisha, she looked worried. “Aisha tell me one thing, are you not taking care of yourself and taking meals timely?” Aisha’s silence gave them the reply, Jeonghan was worried about her.

“Aisha, look you need to take care of yourself.” The female doctor turned to look at him, “and you need to take care of her, pay attention to her meals timing, and give her fruit juices along with fruits.” Jeonghan nodded at her words, “you just can’t neglect her, she is already 7 weeks pregnant, okay?” Jeonghan nodded again, “I’ll take care of her”

They left after thanking the doctor, who wished Aisha luck. “You’ve been skipping meals, your pulse rate was also low today.” Jeonghan looked at her, Aisha was feeling guilty again, “I-I just”

“I am telling you again, you need to take care of yourself Aisha, please. You can’t do this to yourself.”

They were walking towards his car and Aisha felt dizzy, she was about to take one more step but she held Jeonghan’s arm with a very tight grip, “Aisha? Are you okay?”

“Jeonghan…” she trailed off, Jeonghan didn’t risk anything and picked her up in his arms, “Aisha, hold on”

He quickly opened the door for her and let her inside, carefully. He had water in his car, he opened the bottle for her, “drink this”. After Aisha drank the water, Jeonghan went to the driver’s seat. “Are you feeling any better?” she nodded, he turned on the AC, “why would you skip meals Aisha, why?” Jeonghan was trying his best to keep himself calm, he was getting worried about her each growing second, even doctor told her she’s weak and she needs to take care of herself. She need to eat and get fruit juices, she cannot skip meals at any cost.

“Even doctor told you Aisha, please”

“I cannot, Jeonghan understand. How can I eat peacefully and sleep peacefully thinking about this baby and Seungcheol.” He sighed at her words, she was broken and only Seungcheol could fix her. There was a reason Jeonghan texted Seungcheol saying he should come visit the doctor because Aisha is going to the doctor in his locality but he didn’t see Seungcheol.

The only thing went unnoticed by both of them was, the moment Jeonghan picked up Aisha in his arms, Seungcheol was there to witness everything. ‘I was right’ he said and left.

“Fine, let’s go home now.” The whole ride Aisha was absent minded and was silent. Jeonghan stopped parked his car and got down. Aisha was lost to even ask him why would he park the car.

Jeonghan came after buying few things, “take this” he gave the plastic bag to Aisha and she looked at her, “what is this?”

“open up” he said and started driving back to her apartment.

“drink the lichi juice for now, I’ll cook something once we go home.” He took a glance at her while driving, “You don’t have to do that”

“and let you starve?” she looked at him, in disbelief “end of conversation Aisha, finish that juice before we reach your apartment.” Jeonghan smiled looking at Aisha pouting.

That whole week, Jeonghan went back and forth while taking care of Aisha, he would randomly bring fruits for her after returning from his work. Sometimes, he would cook dinner for both or it would be Aisha, that week Jeonghan saw Aisha smiling. He knew she needed some care and that was supposed to be given by Seungcheol but he wasn’t here anymore, and Jia was out of city which made her lonely.

Jeonghan would leave once Aisha was ready for bed, and he would randomly come in evening, make her fruit juices for her, make her some snacks. This whole week Aisha saw Jeonghan cook more than her. He would take care of her. Aisha was feeling better but the lonely nights after Jeonghan would leave was the most painful, she would wake up middle of the night in tears at times because of Seungcheol.

It was finally weekend, Jeonghan informed her Friday night before leaving that he would come in afternoon and they can have lunch together and watch some movies or go hangout somewhere.

She wanted to make breakfast for herself but she wasn’t feeling well. She was feeling sick, probably because she cried a lot that early morning, unknowingly because of some nightmare, about Seungcheol never coming back. somewhere she knew that might get true but she was trying her best to prove it wrong. She didn’t stop trying to contact Seungcheol, at times she would just send him messages about how she misses him, how she misses his voice and want to see him once again. and with that, she had morning sickness today, which was more than enough to make her weak.

Aisha somehow made, toast and drank orange juice.

She heard a knock on the door, she looked at the time, it was 11 am; she didn’t realize how time passed by. She walked towards the door and saw Jeonghan standing from the peephole. She smiled a bit and opened the door. When she saw him, she wondered who would even take care of her to this extent and given that’s Jeonghan, he was doing more than anyone else. He was taking care of her, this is what friendship is.

“are you okay?” Jeonghan was concerned, she looked perfectly fine yesterday. She nodded, “I am fine, just feeling a little weak…” Jeonghan locked the door, they were walking toward the sofa, “did you eat this morning?” she nodded, he could see how tired she looked and her voice was barely audible, “enough sleep?” she nodded absentminded.

She was walking until she held her head and felt dizzy, Jeonghan was quick to hold her. “Aisha” he led her to sit on the sofa and brought her a glass of water.

“drink this” Jeonghan would lie if he said his heart didn’t stop beating for a second because he got so worried out. He always had a soft spot for Aisha till date, he saw her struggling alone, at times he’s just skeptical about leaving her alone at least now. The fact she was supposed to be in Seungcheol’s care but it’s been almost three weeks ever since that happened. She’s struggling alone, he closed his eyes and it felt like the whole thing flashed infront of him, how happy Aisha was when she told him about Seungcheol’s proposal and they were thinking to get married as soon as possible. She would've been so happy. he wanted to take care of her, his heart was hurting looking at her so helpless, he was the only close friend she had right now, and he had to take care of her or else no one knows what will happen next because there was still no sign of Seungcheol showing up.

“Aisha, I’m moving in with you” he held her shoulders, she was surprised.

“Jeonghan, you really don’t have to do this, I am fine. It was just I didn’t had enough sleep and had to deal with morning sickness. Or else I am fine.” Aisha didn’t want to burden him, he was already doing so much for her, trying his best to be with her when she needs care and comfort.

“Jeonghan… it’s okay.”

“I’m moving in, that’s it. You need care, you need someone who can take care of you, and if I stay here it would be easier atleast until Jia comes, once she comes I’ll leave if you want.”

“Wait here a bit, I’ll go bring my essentials and then I can cook lunch for us, I was wondering we could go out and eat but looking at you I don’t even think it’s the best idea to take you out.”

He didn’t give her a chance to speak, and left. Aisha sighed. She was tired with everything.

Her phone started ringing and saw Jia was trying to facetime her, “how are you doing Aisha?”

“I am okay, why is everyone asking me how am I doing” she almost broke down, infront of Jia,

“hey what’s wrong Aisha?” somewhere Aisha hated herself for still being stuck with Seungcheol, she wasn’t ready to let go of him, how could she even let go of him when his part was growing inside her

“I don’t know Jia, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just feel like sleeping and not wake up” Jia was feeling helpless, she told her she would come back and stay with her. “Aisha, wish I could give you a hug right now” there was a long silence, and she was just looking at Jia, atleast looking at her made her feel better, how much she wanted to be with Jia right now. “was everything a mistake? Was I not enough somewhere? Was I wrong?” she spoke in her low voice, Jia heard and shook her head, “girl you were the happiest when you were with Seungcheol, it wasn’t a mistake. I wish I could make him suffer right now for everything you went through for past three weeks and I am so glad Jeonghan is there by your side.”

“Aisha” she heard her name and then door close, she turned her head to see Jeonghan with his belongings, “were you for real saying that Yoon Jeonghan??” Aisha looked puzzled, “what did you think?” Jia saw everything, she was glad for everything Jeonghan did all these weeks, she was somehow hoping for something more somewhere but she knew this wasn’t possible somewhere because the question would be ‘why’ and another question would be their ‘happiness’.

“hey Jeonghan” both of them realized Jia was still on call, Aisha facepalmed herself in realization, “Jia’s on call”

“oh hey Jia, how’s work?”

“it’s killing me, wish I could apply for leave like Aisha right now” she joked “I need a break guys” she smiled, after talking a bit more, Jia hung up and it was just Jeonghan and Aisha. Aisha was still in disbelief because she didn’t even think Jeonghan would actually do that. ‘what are friends for’ that’s what he said to Aisha. Little did he knew he was getting more and more soft for Aisha each passing day.

“I’ve another bedroom, you can shift there” Aisha gave Jeonghan a look, “what?” he looked at her.

“Nothing Jeonghan, you’re impossible” she slightly hit his arm, after Jeonghan settled, Aisha insisted him to have delivery and they ended up having lunch delivered.

Aisha was happy whenever she was around Jeonghan, it felt like he was the only reason right now why she could smile a bit in this situation of her.

[dannifielding]

Hi are you still here? I just want to say that I've just got into the fan fiction side of the DW fandom (stumbled across you on the fanfiction.net app) but I've been a fan of the show since I was about 6 years old. My favourite Doctor will always be Eleven, and I was wondering if you were ever going to bring him back? You did a fantastic job and I cried (I know, sad right?) You would make my say if you brought him back and I particularly love your writing of long stories and chapters. I hope you get this. Please let me know, you will make my day!

Hi :) I feel like I should put a warning for entitlement on this reply :) I am still here, as in I am still alive.

I'm still very much trying to write Danni, but it's not what it used to be.

I still have plans up to and including the 60th specials and I want so badly to get it out.

And I really wanna continue Echoes and the rewrite of the original trilogy (which would include Eleven, who is also my Doctor XD).

The reason I dropped off is twofold. One, which I own, is my mental health. I started taking medication and my motivation tanked.

But a large part of it was feedback. Or, rather, lack thereof.

People's interactions tanked. I still got favourites, and follows, but actually reviews actually took a nosedive and it's just so hard to keep going when no one wants you to do so.

When you're speaking into a void and no one replies, why would you keep talking?

If you're speaking and people reply, then suddenly they don't, what else does that say but they don't like your words?

So, to be honest, Danni mainly lives in my head now. We spend so much time together, but none of it gets put down. It's taken me almost the last two years to get to the point where I can open Word and actually put my thoughts down again.

I can't promise updates anytime soon. But eventually I want to finish Danni's story. Or, at least, finish the stories I've got going.

[yukiwhitetm]

AO3 is back online! But don’t rush to reload all your tabs because you don’t want to overwhelm AO3’s shiny new Cloudflare set up. Ease back into using AO3 for now. I am sure everything will go back to normal soon.

However, this has made me think it is time to announce what is happening with You will always be Monarch Butterfly! Many of you have asked and waited patiently for an answer so here it is.

It is exciting news!

Let me start from the beginning.

I started writing You will always be Monarch Butterfly! in the latter half of lockdown for the sake of my mental health. I put everything in it that made me happy to write about – magic and heroes versus villain (and secret identities – the best kind), friendship and romance, performances and fictional Japan, redemption arcs and royalty. Just like all of you, I fell head over heels in love with the story.

But I saw early on that the Kokichi Ouma I had moulded from the clay that New Danganronpa V3 gave me was different from the source material. He was young and disabled and just muddling his way through life without the adult support he should have had. And I related to him, just like I know many of you related to him. His You will always be Monarch Butterfly! character and story became truly precious to me. I didn’t want to let him go, to let the story I was writing about him disappear into the abyss of fanfiction to be read and forgotten or, worse, lost entirely due to outside forces. This has been highlighted as a possibility to me again and again – it could be “learned from” by AI or AO3 could be taken down by hackers or any number of things could happen.

You will always be Monarch Butterfly! was a story I didn’t want to lose.

And yet, for the longest time, I felt that it was too tightly tied to its fanfiction roots. “I can’t make this into an original work,” I said every time my mum and friends suggested rewriting it into an original work, even though what I wanted to say was I can make this my own. “It’s a fanfiction, it’s tied too tightly to New Danganronpa V3 and Miraculous Ladybug to ever be its own original work. How could I ever separate this?”

Until a day came where I realised this simply wasn’t true. There are some fanfictions that are so tightly tied to their fanfiction roots that they can’t be separated, that is true, but You will always be Monarch Butterfly! was not one of them. I researched how to make fanfiction into an original work and then I knew I could do this. I pulled out a notebook and started planning, What needs to be changed completely? What needs to be just a little different (a little to the left, I would say)? What needs to be cut? How can I make this my own original work?

That was when my original work Truth, Lies and Butterflies came to be.

A lot of things are different now (characters, magic, lots of small details). The important things kept to core of their original idea and a couple things that were my original ideas anyway remained very similar. It follows the same overall plot.

However, I hadn’t planned on removing You will be Monarch Butterfly from AO3 before it was finished. I had intended to finish it as a full first draft for you all to read and then take it down and rewrite it into an original work after that. Companies setting their AI to sifting through fanfiction on AO3 so as to “learn” – or more likely steal – from them changed that.

Admittedly, I panicked, I panicked a lot.

I announced that I was going to lock all my fanfiction to AO3 members only and I did that. But then I worried and fretted over the possibility that the AI might still gain access to You will be Monarch Butterfly!, which I planned to rewrite into an original work, and steal from it so that I couldn’t rewrite it… Honestly, the thought of that terrified me. So, I did the only thing I felt I could. I archived it so that it still exists on AO3 (just in case) but no one can read it but me. No one, including AI.

I started writing my original work Truth, Lies and Butterflies that was inspired by You will always be Monarch Butterfly!

I didn’t announce this immediately because it wasn’t the right time yet. The right time is now.

I hope that you will love Truth, Lies and Butterflies just as much as I do. And that you are as excited by this new direction as I am.

If any of you would like to be beta readers for Truth, Lies and Butterflies then DM me! Beta readers are always greatly needed and much appreciated.

Thank you for all your patience, understanding and support until now. It really means the world to me.

Your friend,

Yuki_White

[saint-starflicker]

Nobody tagged me, I just thought this would be fun.

1. what was your writing-highlight this year? what made it special and how will you reflect on it next year?

I found out that I start whinging really loudly at 18,000 words that I hate doing this and I'm never going to write anything ever again—but I can push through that moment to a word count of 30,000.

2. what did not go so well this year? how do you feel about it and what is a positive thing you learnt from it?

Physical health. Got a new adjusted painkiller prescription.

3. did you achieve everything you wanted to this year? if not, how will you go about it?

No, but hope springs eternal.

4. what is your favourite line you wrote this year?

I'm more of a story arc person than a sentence person. Stephen King in On Writing said a complete sentence has a noun and a verb, and all my other more direct writing influences told me to choose as strong a verb as I can think up at the time of writing, so that became my autopilot mode and I don't really think about making showy, stylish, deft, clever yet unobtrusive sentences anymore (which is probably why I don't accomplish stylish, deft, clever yet unobtrusive sentences.) If a reader gets curious enough about the second sentence that they read it and then the next sentence, then I am grateful for my good fortune.

5. what is your favourite book/story/poem you read this year?

For all its problems, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. I think a lot of classics get a "summarized badly" stereotype around it until we think we don't have to read it because we got information against our will about what the story content is. "Moby Dick is about Captain Ahab going on an ordinary whale hunt for too many pages that describe the color white." "Everything Jane Austen wrote was about dresses and balls, rich people visiting other rich people's houses, and sassing a beau until he becomes a husband." I think for Jane Eyre it's "Mr. Rochester locked his wife up in an attic and then tried to marry Jane. She still married him because that's true love. These are disaster heteros, do not be these people." It really makes Jane sound like some wilting violet downtrodden by her employer's boot, but Jane has an almost decades-long extended family melodrama going on that Rochester doesn't have anything to do with—that I think is a more significant part of her characterization and those family dynamics are my favorite part of the book.

6. did you make any new writeblr friends? give a shout-out! if not, it's time to praise one of your old besties <3

I don't want to accidentally shade anybody by recommending that we maybe should actually be writing.

7. what are three songs you put on your WIP-playlist this year?

Fish in a Birdcage

Til I Hear It From You

I count the following two songs as one entry because they were on a playlist for the same story:

Nothing Without You

Between the Lines

8. what are three things you're looking forward to next year?

Writing original fiction.

9. create a meme or moodboard that captures your past writing-year!

naur

10. which character(s) turned out differently from what you had planned? how so?

I thought Claire Simmonds would be more evil in "Cross to Wear".

11. which scene was harder/easier to write than anticipated? why?

"Cross to Wear", I was clocking in the scene in which Peter tells his dad off, because Papa Simmonds was just...an empty husk of a person in my mind, and not even in an interesting way, as in if that cad and reckless child-abandoner was only just slightly more active in my mind then that would've gone more easily. As it stands, Papa Simmonds was a plot device, and nobody talks about how difficult those characters are to write because there's nothing in them to make any momentum happen. It's like kicking an empty soup tin can down the street in hopes that it will play fetch with you. There's no life in a plot device character.

Mikey versus the 1990's was strange because I got to the 18,000-word mark and I whined as usual that this was taking too long and was too much effort and I am so going to quit this hobby, and I didn't mean to retell the whole entire goddamn novel from the point of view of a background character who was very in the background like way, way in the background...and then I blinked and just under 26,000 words were written out to the end in what felt like less than 2 weeks. It took something like 2 months to get to 25,000 words in "Cross to Wear".

12. if your character(s) had their own new years resolutions, what would those be?

Get written. Bother their author.

13. how did you change as a writer? did you learn anything new? started to plan instead of pants? share your wisdom!

I got bitten by a Muse of writing nonfiction essays, actually, which was odd because I did not previously know that was a thing.

14. time for writing wrapped! what would be your top three used sentences?

(I hope I don't have that! Let alone 3 of that.)

15. time for shameless self-promotion! answer with a piece of writing you want others to see/read! (if you have nothing posted/published this year, any other year is fine too ^^)

I did finally get a short story (original fiction) accepted for publication by a new local magazine, so I'm happy. But this is my fandom blog for fanfictions.

[clearascountryair]

I hope all is well with you while so many of us eagerly await the next update of Figure It Out. 👀 No pressure, of course. I was just thinking about the story and realized how long it's been, and wanted to say I definitely still care about it. Take care! ❤💙❤💙

Hi there! This made my day, thank you so much! I am also eagerly awaiting the next update (jk but only kind of 🤣). This message made me all warm and fuzzy on the inside and super happy to know that, despite me falling off the face of the planet, there are still some people who are thinking about this story. When I saw the notification, it was the best I've felt in months and inspired me to start writing again!

The last few months have been rough. With some various work and personal stuff, my mental and physical health got really bad and, once it calmed down, I really needed some time to recover. I was typically out of the house and in constant interaction with others for about 12-14 hours a day. On the bright side, it took me to such a rough place that I realized I had to make some changes and set some boundaries so that I never end up that miserable again. Writing is my happy place (fandom all around is my happy place) and the extra work I was taking on was not emotionally or financially rewarding enough to make up for even a percentage of how draining it was. Definitely not worth giving up the time and energy to write. So I'm putting me first. I'm feeling like myself again and so ready to get back into writing!

The good news? I did write the next chapter! The bad news? It is the most awful questionable thing I have ever written. I sent it to @agentcalliope, who has edited both my fan fiction and original fiction for about six years now, so she is incredibly familiar with my writing style and can typically figure out the whole "I saw something clearly in my head, but forgot to actually describe it and, therefore, it won't make sense to anyone but me." She called me laughing so hard she was practically crying and, honestly, that was the appropriate reaction 🤣. So I'm rewriting it. Fortunately, there's enough in there to salvage for one, maybe two chapters. And the best news is that the school year is practically done.

I'm not making any promises because nothing makes me less inclined to write than feeling like I have to, but I am working on it, I'm not abandoning it, and, hopefully, the next chapter will be out soon.

I was also struggling with writing it for a bit because I had a whole new fic idea pop into my head with maybe the clearest outline all the way through for anything I've ever written and it's been hard to get my mind back in this universe but that is a whole other story (pun intended)

[emperorsvornskr]

PSA:

If you’re here looking for Bloodlines and Brandy:

I have taken it down, but for good reasons!

Bloodlines and Brandy started as original fiction. Its concept started in 2004-05, as a result of events I experienced in my hometown. The setting, based on my hometown, and characters, based on people I know and love (or hate) were nurtured and developed over the years, and in 2013, the plot began to take shape and take root.

I decided I wanted to get feedback on the story, because not many stories have trans protagonists, so I swapped the original names with Star Wars names, to make it into “fanfic,” and get feedback as I worked on editing.

The feedback was overwhelming. I cannot thank y’all enough for the comments, the kudos, the love that y’all showed my work. It made me feel like it had a shot, so I sent a query letter to a publisher.

They liked it- but said it was too long for a debut novel. They suggested breaking it into a series, because it will make the books a more realistic length, and make more money, as well as giving me more room to expand plot points.

So, the story is being broken up into 2-3 books, with a prequel, and a sequel, rebranded as a series: The Underwood Legacy.

I’m still polishing the final version for my prospective publisher, and to prevent any fuss with them legal wise, I took Bloodlines down. I am very sorry to anyone who hasn’t read it yet, but soon, you’ll be able to read it as a published novel!

Thank you all again, I cannot express how much y’all’s support means to me, because it has encouraged me, and gotten me this far!!

If you like my writing, or want to support me while I work on publishing my book, I have the following links:

Health/Living Needs wishlist

Comfort/Work Needs wishlist

Paypal

[treybriggsthewriter]

This makes me nervous, but I’m going to post it. I’m going to try my best to achieve my goals. I’ve put in a ton of work already, so I’m looking for additional help. 

From the campaign:

My name is Trey Briggs, and I'm a black woman who writes paranormal horror, speculative fiction, and other types of fiction. You can find my stories at MaybeTrey , Astrid the Devil , and on Instagram , Medium , and Wattpad .

My stories are aimed at black people who want to read dark stories that focus on original black characters that are complex and interesting. I genuinely believe Black audiences deserve a variety of genres to delve into, and I want to introduce them to paranormal horror, dark romance, and fantasy that they haven't gotten enough of in the past. I also believe that this can be done across multiple mediums, and I spend my money with black creative professionals to make these experiences extend beyond my words. For the last two years, I've run my stories on sites and Instagram to great reception. I like to craft complex experiences that offer looks at character backgrounds, side and backstories, full websites for each title, and more. I also provide encyclopedias, maps, audio journals, and other ways to get into each world. During these last few years, I've run into a lot of walls, jumped a lot of hurdles, and tried my best. I've worked with amazing black artists, voice actors, and actresses, musicians, designers, and more. I trust my ability to run a project, especially when it comes to planning and finding talent. My overall goal is to run a team of black creatives that crafts novels, graphic novels, audio experiences, and animated series for a dedicated audience.

Why I Need Help Long story short: I have the skill, I have the marketing/website building/business experience, and I have the drive. There's a lot I can do on my own, but there's also a lot that gets left behind because I don't have the money I need to proceed at a steady pace. I need help with funding so I can focus, hire the right people, and craft these stories the way they deserve to be crafted. I have thus far spent over $60,000 of my own money on my projects over the past two years - the writing and site-building are easy for me; the rest has to be hired out. I have art, site costs for hosting, domains, templates, specific plugins, and maintenance, audio (and vocal artists to pay), musical, and editing costs. I'm by no means rich or even particularly financially stable. I have taken on tons of extra clients for my digital marketing business, transcribed hundreds of hours of audio for dirt cheap, and taken out personal loans. I even worked a second full-time job along with my full-time business last year to afford to produce the content I love. It's starting to take a toll on my mental health. I plan on continuing to fund these projects out of pocket (and finding ways to do so), but having financial help, however big or small, would allow me to move a lot faster and with less stress. It would let me flesh out ideas and concepts that I have had to scrap because I can only physically handle so much extra work. I run a full-time marketing business from home, homeschool my autistic 10-year-old, and generally have a busy life. Some of the strain is taking a toll on me, and I don't want to give up. Having some financial backing could allow me to drop a client or two after a few months and focus on the work I love to do.

How You Can Help I mainly need a start—a sort of base. I want to emphasize that I plan to continue to provide the main bulk of funding for my projects. I know my goals are ambitious, and I know each step will take time and money. I welcome any help to make the process smoother and to get around the initial hurdles. I'd like to have ebooks and novels offered on my site by the end of the year (along with the free serials and stories). Funding means that I can broaden the projects, include more free aspects to my sites, and secure direct financing through sales of ebooks and audiobooks sooner. It also means that I can offer MORE stories, whether they are online only or fully fleshed out novels and sites. I am swamped with trying to work enough to cover all my bills and creative projects, so I lose a lot of time I could spend plotting and writing. If I have better funding, I can get my stories out quicker (and with fewer mistakes).

The Initial Stories Let's talk about my stories! If you're familiar with my work already, you can skip to the next section. My main story site is Maybe Trey . Currently, I have two big titles and a bunch of smaller ones that I am seeking help with funding: Astrid the Devil

Astrid the Devil is the complicated story of a girl who inherits not only her family's features and DNA, but their fears, struggles, and fights. It's the story of a condition called Devil Syndrome, the women who suffer it, and the monsters that devour them. It's the story of the fight to save the people you love at the expense of innocent lives. At its core, Astrid the Devil is the story of a woman who inherits the chaos of three generations before her. It's a look at what is truly passed down to our children, and how they're left to fight our battles in the aftermath of our failures. It's the tale of an indescribable monster and the women who struggle to defeat it. It's a journey into how their every decision could save or destroy an entire world. Astrid the Devil is the story of Astrid Snow, but her story can't be told without the story of the women before her.

Vicious: On MaybeTrey  and The Vicious site (in progress)

Somewhere, a war is brewing.  That's the only thing that's for sure to Junnie Gorton, a young horned girl suffering from a debilitating disease called Horn Rot. She typically dealt with her low survival rate and abnormally large horns by escaping the world with her best friend, Lewish. Now she's forced to figure out which side is which, save her entire species, and find out the truth behind the sudden uprising in her home. Horn Rot, a highly contagious and violent disease spreading through horned people, is causing mass amounts of madness and death. Normal horns grow in ways that will pierce, suffocate, and maim their owners, and the only one who can stop it is Junnie's mother, Lyria. As Lyria falls deeper and deeper into an anti-social revolt, the country reels. While Junnie broods, her entire species must prepare for mass extinction. Her brother plots with a group of people with less than good intentions and Lewish is quieter than usual. In a civilization brought up on extreme violence and competition, Junnie and Lewish try their best not to get swallowed by their culture, their lives, or their horns.

Bunni and Bosque :

Bunni lives. Bosque dies. We all know how this story starts. Bunni is obsessed with destruction and death. She comes from the healthiest Horned family in her country. She's from the oldest, purest bloodline in the world. And she's bored with it. Bunni spends most of her time trying to escape her duties as a pureblood. She wants things dirty, messy, foul, inconsistent. Having parents that are willing to kill to keep their bloodline pure is annoying. Knowing that she'll live a long, full life, produce more perfect children, and die unscathed is agonizing. Bunni wants something to mourn. We all know how this story ends. Bosque is destined to die an agonizing death, alone on his family's land. He's watched everyone he loved and grew up with perish. Sometimes it was because of their disease. Sometimes it was because of the malice and hatred of others. While he's absolutely withdrawn and satisfied with his life, Bosque has never had a chance to live it. He spends his days basking in the sun, bathing in wood baths, and contemplating the end. Bosque isn't interested in joining the rest of the world. He'd rather die out, alone, where his family belonged. Bosque wants to go peacefully. But neither expected to meet each other one day in a supermarket. Neither expected to fall in love, lust, and every vicious and dirty thing between. Neither expected to be so right for each other, all while being wrong for everyone else. You know the end of this story. Bunni lives, Bosque dies. But maybe something will change.

My smaller titles, Bunni and Bosque /Aite and Jude, can be found at Maybe Trey .

The Business Plan

The initial phase of my business plan is to get the sites populated with ebooks and audiobooks for sale. I also have prints that can be sold. Right now, I am in the audience-building phase while I save up for editing the full novels. 

In terms of an actual business with which to publish the stories, I already have a registered publication company in Illinois: Wolfless Studios LLC. I took this step earlier this year with plans to self-publish Astrid and Vicious. So that is paid for and done.

I have also gotten initial editing done on the first six chapters of Astrid, though it will need to be edited from the beginning again once everything is said and done. I've spent over $1000 on that so far, and it would go a lot faster if I didn't need to save up to edit each chapter.

Astrid the Devil is fully plotted, outlined, and only needs the last three chapters. Bunni and Bosque and Vicious are newer, but plotted and already deep into character development (all being shared across social and Wattpad for audience growth). Aite and Jude and other shorts are plotted, and three other unshared stories are plotted and at the editing phase.

Other costs and ways I would use the funding (I would still put in my own money and do as much on my own as possible):

Initial $30K

$6000 - $7000 Line and Copy edits for Astrid (currently at 250000+ words/expecting over 300000 at $0.02 rate)

$6000 - $7000 Line and Copy Edits for Vicious

$3000 - $4000 Line and Copy Edits for Bunni and Bosque

ISBN Purchases (Separate ISBN for each format for each book) - https://www.myidentifiers.com/identify-protect-your-book/barcode

Covers for Astrid/Vicious/B&B Print Versions

Site Hosting Costs and Maintenance for 2 Years

Site completion for all stories

Initial store and app development

40K - Marketing and Graphic Novels

Social, Print, and Web ads

Email Marketing Campaigns 

Booths at Decatur Book Festival (depending on COVID)

Social ads and promos

50 to 60 pages

First two chapters offered as free promo with email sign-ups

Audio journals for each character

Situational audio journals

Encyclopedia for Astrid (finishing up)/Vicious

65K - Hires and Next Phases

Ability to hire a Full-Time Editor 

Audio Series for each (professionally done)

Vicious Graphic Novel

Additional Title Added

Short animations for both Vicious and Astrid (with plans to fund more with book sales)

Fleshed out Story Sections (Novellas for each character of each series)

Short comic series with Astrid and Vicious side characters

Possible to plan out monthly subscription service with new stories and 'story package' deliveries

75K -

Astrid the Devil Graphic Novel

Vicious Graphic Novel

Astrid the Devil Animated Short

Ability to hire part-time Web Developer

Additional bigger title

Anything Over - I ascend into pure light. And also, I can add titles, cover more mediums, and eventually expand my publishing to other black creatives.

From there, I should be able to handle the funding via sales of books, comics, audio, and more. Again, I will always offer mostly free content across the sites.

I believe in proof of concept, and I have diehard fans on my social platforms. With no outside funding, I've been able to a lot on my own. I'd love to expand my business into one that does the same for other black authors, artists, voice actors, and animators somewhere down the line. 

Thank you so much for your consideration. I appreciate all my readers, present and future, and I appreciate any help!

See incentives and more on the actual campaign: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-trey-publish-black-paranormal-horror-stories

Thank you so much!

[sladewilsonisanantihero]

The Original Intent of Terra and how Deathstroke got the bad end of the stick for it

Okay, Deathstroke Children (Idk what to call you guys because fellow Deathstrokers would end this conversation immediately), I found the time to do this, so let's get to it!

(Note: My original laptop broke with my comics, so I have no images to spare, so it will be sourced. Another note: Many words will be in bold. Partly so that for those reading will not lose track.)

But if tl;dr:

Cold Hard Truth: Everyone from Terra fans to Deathstroke fans needs to stop seeing these characters as real people.

Original Terra wasn't human trafficked or whatever sob story people want to label her with. The CREATORS intended her to be written as Evil without the mental illness and to die for the shock value. They had Raven, The Literal Empath, spell this out in Judas Contract. As for Deathstroke's involvement, he was shoved into her creation story, and Marv Wolfman himself recognized his mistake in doing that.

And for those calling Deathstroke a nazi, Original Terra had nazi-like beliefs where common people should fear and serve them or be killed off just because they're 'special'. Again, BLUNTLY stated in the Judas Contract. So if you're going to call Deathstroke a Pedophile, we'll call OG Terra a Neo-Nazi. (But I highly advice for Deathstroke Fans to not start that kind of war, but I had to say what I had to say.)

Don't get me wrong. (Hopefully all) Deathstroke fans know that their relationship was wrong just like Marv Wolfman, and we do not support pedophiles! But Slade isn't a pedophile! He was never intended to be written as one! It was a mistake made on many levels and should be rewritten like OG Terra's Evil Neo-Nazi-like personality, instead of being thrown into cancel culture.

Also for Deathstroke fans, don't get upset over their content and begin any argument emotionally. Just enjoy whatever good content we can get and support it if you can. Hopefully we'll get our Deathstroke movies and so on!

So I've briefly chatted with one of you over the matter with Terra/Tara Markov and how upsetting it is about how people refer to Slade Wilson as a Pedophile. That is a serious accusation that would make it very uncomfortable to argue about since it can easily make it seem like we justify the actions of pedophiles, and that we are part of pedophile culture that does exist in social media space.

AND WE SHOULDN'T, AND FOR ANTIS READING THIS WE WON'T.

But there was a time when I used to have a blog called friendlyremindersofsladewilson, where I defended Slade and put the blame all on Terra. I was 14 at the time, and looking back at it, I am not proud of it because I realized now as an adult how I defended it for most of the wrong reasons, but still stand with the fact that SLADE IS NOT A PEDOPHILE.

And since this took place when I was so young, it compelled me to write this post because I fear some of you are really young, too, and may end up in this regretful position.

So to make it clear, what Slade had been written to do is a crime, and we should acknowledge it, but not in the way as if it was a crime acted out in real life.

What I mean by that is that there's a clear separation between fiction and reality where one isn't real (Duh!). In this case, it's about the mistakes made between fiction and reality. In reality, mistakes made by the person responsible is on the person. In fiction, mistakes made is dependent on the creator's intent, and sometimes the creators can make mistakes themselves.

Most notably Terra's:

Tara Markov/Terra was created by Marv Wolfman and George Perez.

In Marv Wolfman's literal website, he stated in his online "What the-?" column:

"Which leads to Terra. That was easy. George and I wanted a Titan who betrayed the others. we also wanted to play against every reader conception of who characters are. George and I knew her whole story before we began and we knew she would die. We set the story up with her trying to destroy the Statue of Liberty to show she was the bad girl, but we knew if George drew her as a cute kid everyone would simply assume she would be ‘turned’ from the dark side because that’s the way it was always done which is why that wouldn’t be the way we did it. Tara was insane an stayed that way right until the moment she died. By the way, she IS dead. I don’t know what other writers will do with her – if anything – but if they want to honor the original series they will leave her dead. The Terra from Team Titans was – as stated – some kid the villain kidnapped and physically and mentally altered her into looking and acting like the original. But she was NEVER the real Terra."

And it should also be noted that he stated before this statement that:

"...Only mistake I think I made with him is having him have a physical relationship with the 16 year old Tara Markov. That was wrong."

So Marv Wolfman himself recognizes that what he did was a mistake, but his intent on Terra was never to write a victim.

And quick note: Insanity isn't written as a mental illness here. It's written like how many villains are labeled as insane for having skewed beliefs that deviates from the common good.

Terra truly had some nazi-like beliefs where she BELIEVED that everyone who wasn't 'special' like her and the Teen Titans deserved to be treated like shit because they weren't 'special' like them. She bluntly said it herself in the Judas Contract.

As for George Perez's comment in an interview I found in this website:

"GEORGE: Tara was just a cute little girl, although I based a little bit of that on my wife Carol’s sister, Barbara. A little upturned nose… Barbara does not have the teeth that Tara had. I wanted Tara to be a girl who looked normal. Which also means her death caught everyone even more offguard.

Tara, she was made to be killed; she served her purpose. That was it.

ANDY: You didn ‘t get any attachment to Tara?

GEORGE: No, because I knew we were going to kill her. So I deliberately used all the things to make her as likeable and cute as possible, so people would never believe we were going to kill a sixteen-year-old. And she was a sixteen-year-old sociopath. She was one of our cleverest gimmicks; we deliberately created her in order to lead everyone astray. So we couldn’t build any fondness for her, ’cause we knew full well what her whole motive for existence was. Her existence was basically to keep the stories interesting; we were tossing a curve that no one would have expected.

ANDY: You didn ‘t even love to hate her, huh?

GEORGE: No. I loved handling her, because she was such a good idea. But she was an idea. Not as much a person. She was there to show exactly how much their humanity can be one thing they have to be careful about, the Teen Titans have to be careful about. . . they can be too trusting, or their own weaknesses can be used against them."

Terra was supposed to be a representation of An Evil Betrayal of Trust and That Not All Cute Girls Are Good.

But they took it too far by making her sleep with Deathstroke because they wanted to truly make her look evil by literally sleeping with the enemy. Y'know because this was the 80s, and women having sex was an evil act back then, and that point of view has somewhat or barely improved 40 years later.

Deathstroke was just shoved into this idea, and Marv tried and perhaps failed at trying to undo this mistake with his talk with Beastboy (Tales of the Teen Titans issue #55) and before his confrontation from Wintergreen (Deathstroke (1991); Chapter 35).

So just as I had stated at the top in the tl;dr, it was a mistake made on many levels and should have been rewritten out just as many had done with OG Terra's true personality, and be done with it.

Random person: "He still slept with a 16-year-old."

And it's not that hard to make other heroes and villains do this mistake. Because again, it's all fiction. Deathstroke's fictional. As in Not Real, so we could literally undo the damage by rewriting this mistake. Or make it worse by making Terra the rapist by her using her Earth powers to bind Slade down and force him, and you can't deny that it's plausible. Because she's fictional. Anything can happen. So why didn't Slade tell Beastboy whether he slept with her or not, maybe it was because he really didn't want to but he was forced into it. And that's just something you can't dump on a very emotional man who was trying to kill you a moment ago.

ALL THE POSSIBILITIES BECAUSE IT'S FICITIONAL!

But ANYWAY, I went way too dark there.

Ending on a brighter note: Personally to all Deathstroke fans, please value your mental health, please don't start any arguments that'll compromise it, and continue supporting Deathstroke in whatever way you can!

[yourfavouritetragedy]

I was adding onto the DSMP Actor AU post, but it turned into Wilbur musician AU, haha rip me, and I only know SBI anyways so here’s a separate post. (It goes back to actor AU at the end.) It’s hypothetically still in the same universe though, and obviously inspired by it. If anything’s phrased weirdly, it’s cuz this was originally an addition to that. 

tbh I kinda adhered to their IRL careers too much compared to the OP but whatever it’s fine. 

Also frick the “Dream SMP” for not having a better title lmaooo

Wilbur is an indie artist really on the come up

Your City Gave Me Asthma was pretty good for a first release, popular with both new fans and fans of his acting.

He had starred in a short mystery/thriller-ish series that started off disguised as a normal sitcom: Chilly in Lincolnshire {Editor Wilbur ARG}

It had a prominent release because of Jack Massey’s involvement and previous fame, but production was abruptly scrapped before it tied everything up with a bow on top, so to speak. It’s still unclear if this was actually planned in order to tell the story the way they way wanted. 

Even before that, critics had mixed reviews, either applauding the storytelling and acting or calling it “irrationally confusing, an amateurish attempt to box unconventional storytelling into a conventional medium.”

Also SootHouse was a sitcom that achieved a cult following during the two seasons it ran before cancellation. Either you’re a fan or you’re never heard of it, and people constantly forget Wilbur was in it. 

(He was a few other old shows on his resume too. Wilbur always focuses on the newest project, so everyone always forgets about what he was in before.) 

Maybe I Was Boring EP was initially just bonus tracks on his website, but his fans liked it so much he gave it a wider release

In between, he had a few comedy songs go viral on youtube. Everybody was so confused when they realized it was the same Wilbur as musician/actor Wilbur. He laughed about it in an interview, saying “How many Wilburs do you know?” 

That’s when it came out that “Wilbur Soot” was actually a stage name. (”Ha, fair, only one.” “Make that zero-- my name’s not really Wilbur.”)

He kinda disappeared after that?? Didn’t do anything, really inactive on social media. It was semi-confirmed that he was both working on his mental health and prepping some stuff (music, auditions).

But anyways he just released a series of singles, combined into Digital Love {E-girl trilogy}-- he’s transformed his image yet again, but this time he does take ownership of all his past ventures.

The release of Digital Love bridges the end of SMP Earth and the beginning Dream SMP. 

But before that there was MCC and the other stuff.

They are shows where celebrities team up do stuff-- you know the type 

but Minecraft Monday is still inexplicably Minecraft Monday. Some Youtuber just managed to get all these up and coming celebrities to play a Minecraft tournament. 

And that’s where the Sleepy Bois (minus Tommy) met IRL so that’s where they meet here. 

SMP Earth, like Minecraft Manhunts, is also a former show they were on. I’m going to call it World Domination. Don’t @ me; I know that’s trash lol. 

They and the Dream Team met up because of their shared fanbases and were even talking a crossover, but it didn’t really work that well for the stories so they scrapped it

They make a non-canon cross over episode anyways {no IRL equivalent, I think}

Everybody loves the cons. Everytime there’s a con, five friendships are made and eight ideas are created. 

Techno backstory time

He’s done a lot of long running, though not exactly popular, serials and sitcoms: Blitz, Survival Games, and Sky Wars. 

Winstreak: 1000 {Bed Wars 1000 winstreak} was so popular they made a second season, but it never got as big as the first. He worked nearly exclusively with Hypixel Studios. 

He was doing lots of random content for their new Sky World universe {Skyblock} -- the small studio was big on experimentation -- , when a fictional documentary, The Great Potato War, went proper viral. 

They made two sequels WHILE he was doing those celebrity team challenge shows and then World Domination, and they were actually good sequels.

Got a reputation for being shallow and a sell-out, but he makes a joke of it so much he gets away with it and constantly self-promos.

Also a kinda scary to work with for the first time because of how single-minded he can get, but once you realize how socially awkward he is it’s okay.  

Now that’s he’s in a lot of stuff with worldbuilding, he practically has the wikis memorized. 

Tommy mainly did limited series and movies before World Domination, where he met the SBI.

He’d had been a fan of Wilbur for a while, and was super star-struck at first, but got over it really quickly in his Tommy style

He still is a total fanboy at concerts and whenever a new music video drops. “I’m friends with the guy! I know him, Wilbur Soot!” “Tommy, you’re famous too.” “Yeah, cuz I’m practically in the video!” “No--” 

Wilbur takes Tommy to one of his concerts and he’s so hyped the entire time, especially to go behind the scenes and on the stage. 

Sometimes he gets stressed about the pressure of being a child star, but Techno, Philza, and Wilbur promise to stand by him and they make him feel protected 

One time Wilbur’s drunk and almost hands Tommy a drink before swearing and going, “You’re a bloody child! You can’t have that! God, what would Philza think?” Tommy’s not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. 

Philza laughs at the story and actually lets Tommy try a little in a more controlled, responsible situation. Tommy texts his mum first, and then hates the drink anyways. (”This is rubbish! I am a man, but I’m not drinking this!” Techno: “Alcohol is disappointing. I drink orphan’s tears instead.” “Techno WHAT--”)

Philza had been the star of a zombie apocalypse show: Golden Core 

He did canonically die to a child zombie in the movie version. Yes, they made a movie version of the TV show, because the Golden Core franchise actually has had many other shows {other hardcore series}. 

Everybody tries to get the child zombie props near him because of that (they’re puppets)

He’s done a lot of other things, like in the original actor AU post, but none of them came close in popularity. 

He gives the rest of the SBI the knowledge he’s gained from being in the biz for so long. 

There’s also a running joke about SBI meaning “Spy Boys Incorporated” and them starring in a comedy spy movie

The fans would very much actually like this to happen. There’s so many fanons for it (maybe I’ll write one....) 

Back to the DSMP. Maybe I’ll call it Dreamland or smth. 

Wilbur constantly asks Tommy if he’s okay after any difficult scenes

Especially when they were hanging out together a lot in the exile arc.

All the brother scenes were cut because Wilbur kept breaking down and crying in them.

Sometimes people actually ask Techno and Tommy if they’re actually brothers. Tommy tries to go along with it half the time on the basis of “it’s be funny,” so there’s a subset of casual fans that genuinely don’t know. 

After Alivebur was killed off, Wilbur was going to leave the show to concentrate on his music

But he missed the SMP and hanging so much that he just showed up on set one day saying “I’m a ghost now,” and everyone just rolled with it

Alivebur was so popular that, seeing that Wilbur was willing, they decided to bring him back for Season 3. He’s been avoiding doing heavy scenes, but he still seems really invested and like he wants to come back to the show.

Wilbur talks with Techno about writing and lore a lot

it’s one the few times Wilbur actually seems like the older one

Wilbur attempted to get a D&D group going in the cast, but the show was already close enough, with the amount of improvisation they can get by with

Tommy’s Pigstep cover happened, but the background was Philza clapping barely in time with just Wilbur on bass instead (and of course Techno’s “BAHP”s)

It was a charity stream. They had put on their costumes (clothes only) for a previous goal. 

This one was simply called “We rap.”

Some people were almost disappointed that Tommy was the only one actually rapping, but he was so funny it made up for it. 

Okay I spent the whole morning on this and it got way too long but I think I’m finally out of ideas. sorry haha hope you enjoyed! ^_^

[goodlucksnez]

a sky full of stars

Hello everyone so I wrote a er//aserm//ic fiction and it’s 5513 words I know right what the fuck I just kept writing and I didn’t want the story to end but it came to a lovely end

TW WARNING it deals with sui//cide depression,anxiety,panic attacks as well as medical surgery

TO NOTE In the story endeavor is not a hero and is a local tea maker and his wife is the surgeon which I just think it’s cute it comes together in the story it will make sense don’t worry

This is using my original AU with the Quirk flu

And lastly I hope you enjoy it I had a lot of fun riding and it has definitely improved since my last fic enjoy

you can read it on A03 or down below

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33360760

How Shouta got here was anyone's guess. Sitting on the edge of the roof of UA looking at the shifting colors as night began to fall around him. As the shades of reds mixed with the blues and yellows, how they washed over the buildings and trees with a gentle golden glow, Shouta closed his eyes and smiled. The tear-stained face of the Pro was hidden from view under foundation and tired eyes. With the still night air, he heard the roof entrance unlock and movement behind him.

“Hello, old friend,” Shouta said not even turning to look at him.

“What the hell are you thinking, step away from the edge now.” Mic's voice boomed over the concrete and echoed in the tranquil night air. “Please, people need you…. I need you.”

Shouta took a deep breath and stood to face his old friend. Mic’s face was panicked and he could see the crumpled note in his hand. Shouta was glad to see his friend one last time. He shook with adrenaline as he spoke in a quiet voice barely louder than a whisper. Years down the road Shouta in the confession of therapy would say he said it this way because whispers make people listen while shouting just falls upon deaf ears.

“All my life, I have been in love with the sky. Even when everything was falling apart around me, the sky was always there for me. I’m glad to see it hasn’t changed. Goodbye old friend.” And he stepped off the roof Mic’s voice echoed in the night sky as Shouta plummeted down and down until darkness.

---

That was five years ago. Shouta had been getting better about talking about his depression and the struggles but the one thing he could not do was hurt Mic again. Hizashi also died that day, his cheery disposition of the world changed, and he hasn’t been the same since. He had improved but Shouta still had guilt deep down but would never admit it. Hizashi's confidence was always so fragile, like a child’s, it took him years to return to radio and music. He once in a foggy drunken state told Shouta that music died the day he fell and all the sounds of the world that created such unique and beautiful different melodies, fused into one agonizing wave of sound that made Hizashi hate music and his Quirk. He had gotten better they both had recovered from that day but if they were both being honest, they were still those scared little Pros inside.

When winter came the vows of in sickness and in health were tested. Hizashi got sick first and Shouta played the role of nursemaid and helped him get better therefore it was no wonder Shouta got sick. When he was a child Shouta would hide under his bed to avoid being seen as sick, he had enough of name-calling at school he did not need it at home too. This continued into his adult life even after the accident 5 years ago.

The next time he had woken up he almost suffered acute heart failure from the number of stress hormones that were immediately pumped through his system as long-term best friend and husband Hizashi better known as Present Mic had busted through the bedroom door with a shout of “Shouta” with his remarkably deafening voice. “Wow were you sleeping?”

As if it would be a shock that he was. He has been up most of the night coughing and generally feeling ill. Shouta was having trouble getting out of bed today as a dull pain racked through his body pulsing through every limb. He merely grunted in response and the strawberry blonde-haired man sat down and rubbed his back.

“Shouta,” he asked his voice worried with concern and suddenly Shouta was back on that roof. He shut his eyes and winced at that memory and shook his head. The movement of his head caused the room to spin and he reached out to grab onto something stable the only thing near him being his husband.

The pressure in his cranium had built itself up to the point where he knew he had to get away to get checked out. Somehow, he had to take a trip to get medicine, the question was how would he succeed with such a mission when Hizashi worried about his every movement.

Mic continued to rub his husband's back. After receiving no answer, his usual jovial expression continued morphing into one of pure concern. “Hey, Shouta are you okay?”

The tired pro sighed but when he went to open his mouth the tickle which had been prominent in his sinuses flared to life and he quickly turned his head to the side gripping the side of the bed as the sneezes ripped through his body.

“Heh-R'SSHH! Hh-Hih-AET’SCHHH! ESCCH!”

Hizashi jumped in surprise. “Woah, many blesses,” he said. “I’m going to pick you up some meds, okay?”

Shouta grabbed his arm and said, “no you barely over being sick, I can get some.”

As he went to put on his shoes, he sniffed back the congestion that was threatening to flow. Hizashi watched him gathering his wallet and keys before hugging him tightly and whispered in his ear.

“I know how you get with these things; I call you in a few hours and you better pick up or you’re in trouble. I love you Sky.”

Shouta hugged him back and said, “I love you to songbird.” And he left the house with the sound of thunder in the sky boomed over him.

---

His feet hurt.

It was a stupid thing to focus on. Stupid because Shouta was still heavily limping his way through darkened alleyways and shuffling through crumpled up newspapers and puddles of...something. His breath came out in ragged gasps, the medicine still clutched close to the chest. Shouta had no idea where he was going. He just kept moving- one hand drifting along chipped brick walls and graffiti-stained cement, something to keep him steady. Focused. Home was the mission but it wasn’t the goal. The goal was-

Freedom from the pain.

His knees buckled and Shouta couldn’t stop himself from tumbling forward. He smacked into a dumpster; the weak thump of a body against rusted metal ringing in his ears. The stench of rotten food clawed its way into his nose; the pain now liquid fire in his veins. Get up Shouta told himself even as his eyes started to flutter close. You have to get up. His fingers twitched; they landed in a puddle of something gross. “Please,” Shouta whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please~” Thunder rolled off in the distance- a heavy, almost shuffling sound. Maybe- maybe he could get clean in the rain? Maybe-----

“Ah, your awake!”

Fuck! Shouta started, brain a sluggish mess. He- the last thing he remembered with solid clarity was collapsing against a dumpster. Rain pattered against the rooftop- a strange melody that did nothing to put the Pro at ease as he stared at the old man before him. He was heavyset, a long red beard neatly trimmed and a topknot giving him off an old school look. Shouta glanced around the room, just a little more awake now. He still felt like shit, wet from the clothes he had when-

“My shoes,” Shouta rasped, gaze falling to his feet. They were bare, his socks neatly placed on the floor with his shoes beside this...futon. A sad, threadbare thing on the floor. It took all he had not to run his hands over himself-no. No injuries. The only thing Shouta wasn’t wearing was his shoes. Shouta inhaled congestion thick and he wiped his nose on the back of his hand. An oven mitt was sitting on the floor between them, a teapot gently clutched in the old man’s hands. “You put band-aids on my heels?”

“I did,” came the quiet hum. “You’ve traveled quite a way. Those blisters are impressive.”

Shouta’s gaze flicked to the two clay cups- one by his feet, the other next to the old man’s knees. Steam started to curl out of the teapot; a fire Quirk perhaps? “...You’ve got a fire Quirk.”

The old man smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You’re very observant. Yes, I do. Would you like some tea? I have some delicious Herbal Spring at the moment it might help with that cold you got.”

Shouta eyed the teapot in question- the steam was barely more than a little trickle of a cloud. Could he have poisoned it while I was out? He shrugged, looking away.

“Ah good!” The old man leaned forward to pour tea- Shouta first, then himself. “Herbal Spring is a very fragile tea, you know. Raise the temperature too much and you’ll ruin it. Keep the water too cold, and it loses its flavor.”

Shouta didn’t reach for his cup. He heard the soft clink of China being set down on the oven mitt. He- he saw the near-empty room he was in. “Where am I?”

“My tea shop! Aaah well,” the old man smiled again as he reached for his cup. “Soon to be my tea shop. This is a storeroom of sorts.”

Shouta watched the old man drink first. A happy hum, a deep sip that made the Pro finally reach for his cup. He brought it to his lips, taking a tentative sniff. Even with his blocked nose, it smelled sweet. Shouta took the tiniest of sips; the warm liquid sliding down his parched throat with ease. It had a soft note to it; sweet and almost fruity, enough to make Shouta …breathe. “Who are you?”

“Just a simple tea maker.” Another calm sip, the old man closing his eyes for a moment. “Who are you?”

It...it lacked the same venom that Shouta’s question had. The same cautiousness, an almost feral edge to it. The old man’s question was simple. Calm and steady; Shouta bit the inside of his cheek before he took another tentative sip. “No one.”

“It is an honor to meet you, No One.” The teapot was held out like a porcelain olive branch. “More tea?”

Was this...a joke? Shouta bit the inside of his cheek before he held out his cup. There was still plenty of tea left in the small cup and it took all the Pro had not to wince at how hands were still shaking. Hot liquid sloshing about, threatening to go right over the dull rim. Yet...if the old man was going to say anything, he didn’t. He merely poured Shouta more tea, careful to keep the liquid from the rim.

Shouta brought it up to his lips, taking a bigger sip. “You’re,” this time he winced. His throat was still a raspy mess. “You’re not going to ask me why I was outside?”

“Mmm, you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Shouta watched the teapot be set gently on the oven mitt, the old teamaker once more quietly enjoying his cup. The two sipped their drinks in relative silence- only broken by the steady drumming of the rain overheard and Shouta sniffling. An odd sort of silence, almost peaceful; Shouta wasn’t bombarded with questions. The old tea maker was content to drink his tea; he’d already downed three cups by the time Shouta had managed to finish one. He sneezed 3 harsh sneezes and drank more tea hoping to soothe the throat. The teapot seemed to rise without being asked; a second cup poured, a second cup that Shouta found himself willingly drinking. “Aizawa,” he whispered, staring down at the amber liquid. The Pro’s voice was painfully loud in the quiet. “My name is Aizawa Shouta.”

The old man gently smiled; callused hands curled around his cup. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Aizawa Shouta.”

“What-” Shouta shifted on his futon; the tremors had finally left his hands. “Who are you?”

“Just an old man with wisdom and regrets,” came the happy reply. “You can call me Enji if you wish.”

Enji? It was a familiar way to address someone he’d just met. Right. “...I’m not calling you Enji.”

“Fair enough,” the old man chuckled and there was something warm in his voice that begged the Pro to relax. Maybe he has another Quirk? Can someone have two Quirks?

Shouta glanced down at his cup, his thumbs brushing the rim. “Why are you doing this?”

“Sharing tea with a fascinating stranger is one of life’s true delights~”

That...was not what Shouta was expecting. He frowned; was it too late to make a run for it? He was pretty sure he had strength in his legs now, even if he still felt awful. “That’s some bullshit,” the dark hair huffed, settling on something solid. Something he could trust. He attempted to rise to his feet and he wobbled for a moment. Pain that rolled through Shouta, begging for him to plop his ass back down. “You’re crazy, old man.”

The old man didn’t move from his spot on the floor. He merely hummed, a red eyebrow rising at the uptick of rain against the roof. “You will need a proper raincoat then. You’ll be soaked if you leave now.”

“...You’re not going to stop me?”

“I cannot stop you from your long journey, Shouta. Just as we cannot stop the fire from burning the log or ice freezing a pond.” Shouta watched the old man set his cup down; empty. “But please,” he groaned as he lumbered to his feet and Shouta was pretty sure he heard joints pop. “Let me get you an umbrella at least.”

His chest hurt. Shouta’s throat was stupidly tight. Painfully tight as he stood there, watching Enji dig around in the storeroom for an umbrella. “...You,” Shouta tried to clear his throat. To stop himself from crying like the idiot he was. “You don’t have-”

He shouldn’t have wasted his breath.

The umbrella was pressed into his hands with care. It was an old thing that had seen better days- a raggedy blue thing with a few frayed strands and a scuffed handle. It was old and worn and the most precious thing Shouta had ever held in his life. “Thank you,” the Pro whispered, clutching it close to his chest.

“Of course,” Enji hummed, bowing in return. “Please stay dry.”

---

Shouta descended the step of the tea shop, his body aching with every step. The medicine still clutched to his chest. The words still echoed in his mind. “You tell me when you’re ready.” He found himself walking the feeling of cool water running down his wet body was quite unpleasant. The wind blustered and the rain pattered on the antique umbrella and the way home seemed twice as long as usual. His mind raced, how could a stranger see so clearly into his mind was it that transparent to everyone that he was broken. As his feet hit the sidewalk a single thought crossed his mind. Hizashi. His songbird. His love. He was probably worried sick. As he pulled out his phone, he saw the screen was broken and as the light lit up his face, he could see 54 unread messages. Fuck. He ran, he didn’t even notice the tightening of his chest and the pain in his limbs, as he rounded the corner almost slipping on the wet pavement. He saw the lightly tan building of his home; the outside light was still on. As he unbolted the door and took a step inside, his heartbeat deafening in his ears, a pair of arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him inside.

As Shouta panted, Hizashi's grip gets getting tighter and tighter. No words were said but the silence spoke volumes. Shouta felt tears spring to his eyes and choked back a sob as Hizashi guided him to the living room sofa and sat him down. Wordlessly Hizashi began to take Shouta's shoes off, gently searching his dark eyes for some kind of answer of where he was. Shouta could not meet his gaze, and just shook from the wet clothes and clutched the sofa tighter. Hizashi nodded and went off down the hall. He returned a moment later with fluffy towels and the first words were spoken.

“Out of those clothes.” Shouta blushed but did as he was told and as each soaked article of clothing was removed from his body it was replaced with a warm fluffy towel. However, it didn’t stop his shivering and Hizashi started rubbing the frozen skin of his lover. After a few minutes, Hizashi suddenly stopped and stood up, turning his back from Shouta.

Suddenly the blond jolted forward. “heh… ehh…. heh'ISSShooo!" and went into the kitchen to grab a box of tissues.

As he sheepishly returned and met the gaze of his husband, he muttered an apology. “Sorry.”

Shouta was at a loss for words. Why was he sorry? It was not his fault Shouta got sick, not his fault he was broken. He had done everything right, Shouta was wrong. He blinked in rapid succession before finding his voice. The voice of Enji filled his head ‘When you’re ready. He spoke with a voice broken and small.

“The day that the rain smelled like ice cream, my cat went to heaven in front of my eyes. The day that the copper pipes in the old building smelled like burnt food, my best friend... went to heaven in front of my eyes. I couldn't save them. It's sad. Neither one had the chance to become an adult. They should have become adults. They should have had children of their own and loved those children. And I want to make that possible for other people. So don’t be sorry. You saved me. I love you.”

He had never expressed that amount of raw emotion in his whole life, not even to his therapist but it felt right. The nerves he felt flowed out of him as his tears decorated his face. As he sat covered in the towel he sobbed, all the emotions he had been holding released like the steam from that teapot that brought him warmth not a few hours before.

Hizashi cradled him, as his body racked with sobs, gently like how a mother would cradle a baby, pausing to kiss him and repeat gentle nothings. As Shouta began to wind down, all the strength he had been pretending he had disappeared and he slumped against Mic and closed his eyes and soon unconsciousness took him.

--

Shouta slept for hours it seemed like. Each dream he had was confusing and odd as if he had two brains competing for the dream. His tired muscles ached and the dull pain between his eyes had increased to a dull migraine. Truth be told he felt awful. But soon his body had had enough and he felt the being of a sneeze. He tried to hold back for a while longer but found it futile. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling as the tickle reached its climax.

“Eschht, Eschht eh ugh sniff heh hhh AET’SCHHH!”

The last sneeze ripped through him with such force all the blankets and towel that had kept him warm fell off of him and he was left sniffling chest exposed to the room and his husband who look just as surprised as himself.

“Goodness bless you Sho, you have caught my cold.”

The tired man just groaned and said with a voice still raspy and strained “Not a cold, it's probably the flu, I should have told you sooner, I just- ugh sniff again heh hhh Hit'choo!! Hih-tschh!! Hihh…hih-tsCHEW!”

With the last sneeze, he felt his Quirk go haywire and soon his hair was floating above him and his eyes had turned a red hue. Luckily for him, no one was in the radius but he still felt awful. A hero could only depend on two things in this world, their Quirk and the one they loved. If Shouta could take one of those away without realizing it, it could mean trouble.

Mic had knelt in front of the laying down Pro and gently cupped a tissue around his husband's nose. “Bless your hon, come on blow for me.”

Shouta did a wet gurgling blow and groaned as the Quirk deactivated his dry eyes yearning for water. Mic dabbed at Shouta slowly being red nose and stood. He made his way over to the linen closet and grabbed the warmest winter sweater and returned to his sick husband.

“Arms up you know the drill.” As Mic helped the Pro get dressed, he called out to Siri.

“Hey, Siri, text Doctor Green we are coming in an hour.” As Shouta's head came through the sweater hole he simply frowned. This Doctor had treated him after the accident but was a close friend of theirs. As Siri confirmed the appointment Mic sensed Shouta's discomfort and replied to him. “I know sweetie you don’t like the doctor but you know he can help better than over-the-counter drugs. He continued and I will be there the whole time.”

Shouta shook his head. “Together,” he said in a small voice

Mic helped the sickly Pro stand and guided him to the mirror next to the door and kissed him on his flushed skin. “Forever Together.”

--

The train ride for the first leg of the journey was uneventful. The hum of the fluorescent lights and the moving subway train was distracting enough to distract other passengers from Shouta's constant sniffling. Mic was stood holding on to the overhead bar while Shouta was sitting with his head in his hands. Mic was constantly asking if Shouta needed anything even though he would not be able to provide much relief besides encouraging words. As the overhead speakers announced their stop Mic helped Shouta stand as the train came to a hard stop be cursed in English as Shouta stumbled forward again him.

The misty afternoon after the rainstorm was heavy in the air but still, Shouta shivered a clear sign of a fever and the couple picked up the pace to the doctors. As they rounded a corner a few blocks away they were met with the flashing blue and red of a line of police cars. As heroes, they knew a situation was happening. Mic half dragging Shouta went to them who seemed to be in charge of the crowd of citizens and asked what was happening. The short man with light brown hair replied with the normal answer for any citizen. “Nothing to worry about Sir heroes will handle it.” Mic frowned and dug in his pocket and grabbed his Hero license and flashed it at the man. Taken aback the man quickly responded. “Oh, um sorry, a Jewelry store has been taken hostage, he paused before continuing “my chief might need an extra few hand…he paused and looked at the struggling man Mic was holding up “is he also able to help.” Mic didn’t have time for this and he ducked below the police tape and began walking to the line of cop cars. Shouta followed but sluggishly. As he neared the chief of the police, he quickly scanned the street. He could see the jewelry store in question had a broken window and was heavily surrounded by local heroes as well as other members of the police task force. As Shouta caught up his eyes were half-closed and looked like he was going to pass out any second. Before Mic could attend to Shouta a round of gunshots filled the air and out of instinct he grabbed both of them and they hit the pavement hard. After a few moments, he helped Shouta lean against a cop car tire and checked over his body. ‘No wounds’ Mic thought ‘I don’t have time for this we need to get through this street.’

Mic looked at the task force and saw the numbers had decreased whoever was in the store had an amble firearm. As a local hero approached the car Mic asked what the status was and what they know. The local hero stating that the man inside the store had a bullet-type quirk and could shoot many rounds of ammo and was demanding everyone to leave and no one would get hurt.

Mic thought ‘a bullet type quirk, like Pro hero Edgeshot’ Mic continued to question. Did they have any other people with them? The local hero shook his head no they are alone. Mic could work with this. He waved over the chief, a man he had worked with a few other times.

If they could stop the man quirk do, they have enough to help the hostages and defeat the villain. The chief simply nodded his head and Mic set to work.

He gently shook the arm of Shouta who barely raised his head. “Hey love I know you are exhausted but we need you Quirk right now can you aim your Quirk over to the storefront.

Shouta tried Mic had to give him credit for that, but as soon his hair started to rise it quickly fell. Shouta mumbled a response thick with congestion. “I. Can’t…tired”

Mic rubbed his arms in understanding and replied “What about if we use your illness as an advantage, you can’t control when it happens right, what if we use that.”

Shouta turned to look at Mic. “What are you suggesting?”

Before he could reply another round of gunshot shot at them and he quickly covered Shouta's body with his. He immediately felt the sharp pain as a bullet entered him under his ribs, and he could feel the blood start to spill. With an adrenaline-filled body, he quickly pulled Shouta into a somewhat kneeling position and aimed his head toward the storefront. “I’m sorry about this love this isn’t going to be big on dignity.”

He grabbed the end of his ponytail and brought the split ends to the underside of Shouta's nose. The already irritated organ began to twitch as the strands of hair slowly twisted around.  

Shouta tried to ignore the incessant prodding of the frizzy hair against his sensitive nose, but with each swipe, the tiny hairs that shook loose were soon sucked up into his twitching and quivering nostrils.  He shuddered and froze in place a tear slowly trailed down from his eye to his cheek as his nose began scrunching and wriggling from the irritation.

“Come on Shouta you can do it,” Mic said. Shouta’s chest heaved and he couldn't help but give in to the itchy and tickly urge to expel those irritants from his nostrils.

“H...hhih...” The beginnings of a sneeze showed as his eyes began to droop. His chest expanded further “Haaahhh! Aaahhhh!”  His eyes fully closed, head tilting back and signaling the oncoming release.  Mic aimed his face toward the storefront and sent a silent prayer that this would work.

“Hit'choo!! Hih-tschh!! Hihh…hih-tsCHEW!”

As Shouta sneezed his hair lifted with ease and soon the storefront was temperately Quick free. Mic activated his Quirk and told the task force to go. Shouta was still panting from sneezing but his eyes were open however Mic didn’t know how long he could keep them open. As the task force ran in the subject found his Quirk would not activate and soon found himself being put in handcuffs and a medical device being placed that would stop his Quirk without the help of Erasure.

As Mic received the thumbs up, he spoke to his shaking husband who was struggling to keep his eyes open. “Bless your hon you did it, you can relax now.” As Shouta did all the energy slipped from him and he lost consciousness and slumped over on the wet pavement. Mic grabbed the fragile man and began to walk to the nearest ambulance, as he stepped into the back of the ambulance the medic and himself helped Shouta into the gurney, and soon the siren wailed and they were finally off to their destination.

--

As they entered the hospital fast lane and the medic was ready to receive both of the ProS, Mic was insistent to be placed near Shouta as he wasn’t comfortable around hospitals. The medic nodded and escorted them to their joined room. Shouta was seen to first. They took blood and gave him fluids; they also provide pain medicine and sadly they had to wait until he woke up.

Mic surgery was quickly scheduled. He met with the surgeon while sitting next to Shouta and rubbing his arm. The female was fairly tall and had blue tint to her eyes and white hair. She explained the surgery before Mic consented.

“Upon examination, we identified 1 cm diameter entry wound at the left lower abdominal wall, Sir. The images we took showed the bullet in the peritoneal cavity but no injured intraperitoneal and retroperitoneal viscera. We decided to remove the bullet laparoscopically.” Mic nodded. She noticed the band around his finger and smiled. “How long have you two been together?”

Mic smiled and replied “4-year next month, but I have known since we were 14 that this is what we both needed.” He paused before swallowing hard “We've been through a lot but I can’t imagine life without him. He is my whole life, my Sky. He bent down and kissed the sleeping man's hand.  The surgeon smiled and spoke “I see, well that must be hard with both of you rushing into battle all the time,” she looked down at her clipboard before continue “I have treated a lot of patients in my day but never have I seen a love quite like your, it’s very special.”  A monitor beeped and the surgeon motioned him to follow. “Well, shall we take care of the bullet Mr. Hizashi. Mic kissed Shouta’s hand before leaving the room.

--

Shouta was hot. It was too bright wherever he was. His mind was foggy. He groaned as he sat up, he immediately recognized the smell of a hospital. What happened. The last thing he remembers is the sound of gunshots and Hizashi…Shit Hizashi he jerked into a sit-up position and looked around. The nurse that had been changing his fluid jumped back. “Calm down you’re okay! Just relax.”

“Where is he…what happened?” He asked rage filling his croaky voice. The nurse replied, “Sir he is in surgery he will be out soon don’t worry he is okay.” She laid him back against the pillows before continuing “We need to make sure you’re okay Sir make sure you don’t have a concussion. He pulled out a light and shown it in his eye without much warning. The tickle flared to life and he turned his head.

“Issh’iIEWW!....hhh..heh… “TSCHTIEW” Thankfully his Quirk did not activate he wiped his nose on the back of his arm as the nurse apologized.

“Sorry Sir, but the good news is you don’t have a concussion so you will be out of here as soon as we can get some medicine and your husband is awake.”

Shouta relaxed slightly and closed his eyes and tried to keep the panic from getting too much to handle. Within the next 2 hours, Shouta tried to not be a bother to any of the staff but his flu had proven a little too much for him to handle.

As a nurse with a gravity-type quirk was walking down the hall with floating plates of dinner, he groaned as another tickle forced him to sneeze and he felt his quirk activate and he heard the crash as the dinner plates fell and crashed on the floor. Many of the nurses were understanding but he still felt awful. When his husband was wheeled into his room Shouta's eyes began to water and he had to fight back tears. The surgeon explained the surgery was a success and he would be discharged later today. She told Aizawa in a voice soft and comforting. “He loves you so much, you are a very lucky man.” She sat on the edge of his bed and looked into his eyes. “I know you feel broken but he is trying so hard to make sure you are taken care of. The world is a cruel place and I know you have suffered more than most. But know this, he loves you and has sworn to protect you. You might be a Hero to the public but he is your Hero, let him save you. She wiped a tear from her eye and turned to leave. Before leaving the room, she said “Oh and you have a gift make sure to grab it before leaving.” And placed a small box on the counter next to the door before leaving him.

When Hizashi woke and passed all the discharge tests and Shouta had his medicine they left the hospital holding each other’s hand and holding a box of tea that they would use for the rest of their life.

The end.

[bettsfic]

how i got an agent, or: my writing timeline

when i started writing, i had no idea how publishing worked and i had a lot of misconceptions about it. but i just signed my first literary agent so i thought i’d share what my experience has been getting to this point, in case it helps anyone else with their own publication goals. i’m also including financial details, like submission fees and income, because “i could never afford to pursue writing as a career” is something that kept me from taking the idea seriously.

for context, i write mostly literary fiction and i’m on the academic/scholarly writing path. this process looks a lot different for other genres. 

i didn’t write this in my pretty nonfiction narrative voice; it’s really just the bare-bones facts of how it went down, how long it took, how many words i wrote (both fanfiction and original fiction), and how much it all cost. 

background

2002 - 2005: read a fuckton of books, wrote some fiction, wanted to be a writer but knew it would never happen, journaled every moment of my life in intimate detail

2006: started working full-time (at a chinese restaurant) while still in high school, also started taking courses for college credit; no time to write, and forgot i had ever wanted to be a writer

2007: graduated high school, started college (psych major), still worked at the restaurant, moved out of my parents’ house into an apartment with my boyfriend; my dad got diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer

2008: continued college full-time, quit the restaurant and started part-time as a bank teller, broke up with bf and moved in with a friend at an apartment where the rent was obscenely high; had to pick up a second job altering bridal gowns

2009: continued college full-time, started dating someone else, moved in with him, had to support him, took a third job as an admin assistant 

2010: continued college full-time, still had 3 jobs; my dad’s cancer became terminal

2011: my dad passed away; i graduated college with a 3.9 and $31k of debt; quit 2 of 3 jobs; got promoted at the bank; my bf cheated on me and we broke up; moved back in with my mom

2012: a very dark time; also, bought a house (because where i’m from, it’s cheaper to buy than rent)

2013: discovered fandom

2014, age 24

this is the year i started writing and posting fanfic. prior to that i was a compulsive journaler but had no drive or desire to become a writer, despite how much i had written when i was a teenager. it seemed like a very childish dream. at this point i assumed writing was just a phase like all my other hobbies i’d picked up and set down. 

but fandom proved to be really healthy for me, and i made some good friends who encouraged my writing and made me want to be better at it. i was really not very good at writing. i don’t think i had any natural creative talent whatsoever, or even a particularly vivid imagination. the only thing i had going for me was the ability to put thoughts into words after a decade of obsessive journaling.

i started writing in spring, and by the end of the year my total word count was 311k. i was making a decent income at the bank, insofar as my bills were covered and i had health insurance. i still had a significant amount of credit card debt from college that i was trying to pay down, and which was eating up all my extra income. 

2015, age 25

i continued writing through 2015 and went to visit @aeriallon, whom i’d met in fandom and who told me i should consider applying to MFAs. i was miserable at the bank and knew i wanted to go back to school, but i didn’t think there was a chance in hell a grad program would accept me, since my writing wasn’t very good and i hadn’t so much as taken a single english class in undergrad. she told me to just look around and do a few google searches to see what i found. 

when i started searching, i assumed i would probably be more compelled toward an MEd or MSW programs and go the therapy route, which is what the plan had been in undergrad before my dad died and my life got derailed. i never wanted to be a banker, but i’d got a promotion into commercial finance that paid decently, so i took it and told myself i’d work for a year before going back to school. but then i kept getting promoted and one year became many.

i ended up being more drawn to creative writing MFA programs because they seemed to want people with weird backgrounds like mine. also the classes sounded fun and the programs were funded. i didn’t know how i would be able to afford my mortgage payment or sell my house on a fraction of the income i was making at the bank, but i figured i’d apply and see what happened.

it took 6 months to get a writing sample ready to apply to MFAs. it was the only ofic story i’d written as an adult, and in retrospect i had no idea what i was doing because at that point i didn’t read literary short fiction. but i got the sample as good as i could get it and completed my applications. i applied to 6 schools and got accepted into 1. 

in 2015 i wrote 250k. i can’t find my application spreadsheet from that year, but i probably spent between $300 and $400 on application fees. early in the year, i had finally managed to pay off my credit card debt and save a little bit of money.

2016, age 26

the school i got into was within driving distance of my house, so i didn’t bother moving. i tried to quit the bank but my boss convinced me to stay on 2 days a week working from home. i agreed to it, because my grad stipend wasn’t enough to cover my bills, and i was counting on what little savings i had accrued to get me through the program. i still had no drive or interest to publish. i mostly just wanted to go back to school so i could learn how to be better at this thing i really enjoyed doing.

in the MFA, as you might imagine, i had to read a lot of stuff and write a lot of stuff, and was encouraged to begin submitting some of the short stories i wrote for workshop. i was not particularly into the idea, considering it seemed like a lot of work for little reward, and also i didn’t think my stories were very good.

i also started teaching english comp. i hated it and decided that after the MFA, i never wanted to do it again. haha. hahahahahaha

in 2016 i wrote 343k. i didn’t apply/submit in 2016 so i didn’t pay any fees, but my grad stipend was $14k for the academic year, plus the income i was making at the bank.

2017, age 27

i did a complete 180 and decided i loved teaching more than anything else in the entire world, and i was willing to do whatever it took to become a teacher. i realized that to become a teacher, i needed to publish. begrudgingly i started submitting to literary journals. i also applied to summer workshops and got into tin house, which i highly recommend if that’s something you’re interested in. at tin house i met my dream agent, who seemed really interested in my work and encouraged me to query her as soon as i had a book done. 

a lot of personal drama happened that year. i was still working at the bank in addition to teaching a 2/2 and taking a full course load. in summer i had a long overdue mental breakdown. 

2017 was a rough year. i wrote 149k. this is the year i started keeping a dedicated expenses spreadsheet. i spent $174 in submission fees. tin house tuition with room and board was a little over $1500 + travel. i thought it was worth it because i met the agent i thought i would later sign, but that didn’t pan out. (i made some great friends though!!) tin house was definitely an unwise financial decision; i paid for it out of what little i managed to save in 2015.

2018, age 28

early in 2018, i went from teaching comp/rhet to creative writing, which only cemented my desire to teach writing as a career. i realized i was far better at teaching writing than writing, but i knew i had to keep writing to keep teaching (shocked pikachu.jpg), so i kept submitting to journals. i got my first story accepted. i didn’t receive any payment for that publication. i quit the bank early in the year (finally! after 10 years!) and was terrified about money, in part because my student loan payments were coming out of deferment and i was still paying off my hospital bills from my breakdown. 

in spring semester, i won a few departmental awards (totaling $500ish) and got a second story accepted (again, no payment). i also got accepted to another workshop which i will not name because i hated it. i graduated in may and defended my thesis in july. the thesis would later become my short story collection, zucchini.

in fall, i stayed on at my school as an adjunct, and started writing training wheels which would later become an original novel called baby. 

i wrote 450k in 2018. i paid $373 in submission fees. i was also nominated for an award for one of my publications but didn’t win. the workshop i went to was like $4000 with room and board (it was a month-long workshop). i got 75% of it covered with scholarships and i paid for the rest of it out of my savings, and even though i’d intended to drive there, my mom ended up buying me a plane ticket. again, i met a lot of big-wig writers i thought for sure would help me get an agent. i told myself i was networking, and that publication was all about Who You Knew. but that turned out not to be true for me.

as an adjunct i made $3200 per course, and i taught 3 classes in fall. in winter, i got my shit together and started applying for creative writing PhDs, mostly to convince my family i was doing something with my life, with no expectation that i would get in. in winter i applied to 2 schools. with application fees and the GRE, i ended up paying well over $500.

2019, age 29

in spring semester, i taught 2 classes while i revised training wheels into baby. when i had a completed manuscript, i finally pulled the plug and used all my networking contacts to get my dream agent i’d met at tin house. i queried her, and a very popular and well-regarded author i’d met at the other workshop emailed her on my behalf to tell her good things about me. i thought for sure i had it in the bag. this author also touched base with a few other agents whom he thought would like my work.

i didn’t hear back from any of them. not even a “no thanks.” i set down querying for a while. 

i got a third story picked up and published around this time, and i was paid $25 for it. they also nominated me for an award, and i don’t think i won? but i can’t find out who did win so idk.

my grandpa passed away and i decided to sell my house and move in with my grandma so she wouldn’t be alone. i got rejected from both PhD programs i applied to and decided to get a “real job” instead, and began applying for random positions that offered health insurance, because i knew i was drastically undermedicated and it was becoming a Problem.

near the end of spring semester, i moved out of my house, put it on the market, and was interviewing for a community development manager position for a nonprofit. at the same time, i found out about another university that was taking late-season applications, and i applied. five days later, i got accepted. one day after that, i got a job offer for the nonprofit. since i had no idea how long it would take for my house to sell, and being unable to afford both rent in a new city and my mortgage payment, i deferred my PhD acceptance for a year and decided to work at the nonprofit for a while. the risk was that i could only defer my admission, not my funding, so there was a chance that the following year i wouldn’t get the same funding package.

i lasted one month at the “real job” before i had another breakdown and ended up quitting. 

my house sold for well under the asking price and i received only $4000 in equity once it was all said and done. that’s a lot of money to me, but considering that i’d been paying on the house for 7 years, i was expecting a lot more.

i had a year to kill until the PhD so i decided to take a break from teaching and apply to artist residencies instead. i applied to 8 residencies and got accepted into 4, but only ended up attending 3, because the 4th was outrageously priced and there was no indication of the cost when i had applied.

in winter i picked up querying agents again. i queried 10 agents every other week. i also got a ghostwriting gig writing children’s books that paid $800 a month.

in 2019 i wrote 417k. i spent $441 in submission fees (to residencies and contests, not agent queries. never pay money to query an agent!!). i ended up teaching 3 classes fall semester.

2020, age 30

i started out the year driving across the country going to residencies. the first cost $100 (no food), the second cost $250 (A LOT OF VERY GOOD FOOD), and the third paid me $500. i was at the third when the pandemic hit.

the query rejections started rolling in. i gave up in february after 60 queries. of those 60, i received 7 manuscript requests for baby, but the consensus was that it was too long and plotless (you got me there.jpg). at the second residency completed and revised zucchini and decided to begin querying with that instead. i could only find a few agents who accepted collections so i only queried 16. i got one request for the manuscript but then didn’t hear back. i gave up in april shortly after the pandemic hit. 

when i figured the collection, like the novel, just wasn’t publishable, i started submitting to contests which is the more standard route for the genre. i submitted to 12 in total and was a finalist in 1. i was rejected or withdrew from the rest.

the PhD program reached out to ask if i was still interested in starting in fall, and i said i was, so they put me in the running for funding again and i was accepted. the stipend was $17k per academic year.

like most of us, i got totally derailed in spring and stopped doing basically everything. the ghostwriting gig started paying $1500 a month and i also started my creative coaching business, which slowly but surely began to supplement my income. i also received the $1200 stimulus. 

when school started, i quit the ghostwriting gig. i had no intention to continue querying either book, but i saw a twitter pitch event called DVpit (diverse voices) and decided to participate. for those who don’t know, a twitter pitch event is where you tweet the pitch for your book and use the hashtag, and agents scroll through the tag and like tweets. if an agent likes your tweet, you query them. 

i got one like, so i followed up with the query. the agent asked for the full MS and a couple weeks later followed up with the offer for representation. we talked on the phone, she sent me the contract, i asked for a couple changes, and then signed! 

so far this year i’ve written 375k and paid $518 in submission fees. i’ll give more details when i do my end of year roundup next month. oh, and i finally paid off my student loans.

totals

word count: 2.3 million

agent queries: 77

agent MS requests: 9

agent rejections: 28

agent no responses: 44

short story submissions: 86

short story acceptances: 3

short story income: $25

total submission/application fees: $1472

my (final) query letter

honestly this query letter probably isn’t very good which is why i got such a minimal response, but it got the job done eventually.

Thank you for expressing interest in ZUCCHINI through this year's DVpit event.

ZUCCHINI is a collection that views sex through an asexual lens. It poses inquiries into constructs like gender, sexuality, and love to dissect the patriarchal/puritanical foundations from which our social perspectives often derive. Being a collection about asexuality, each story portrays a relationship that develops from forms of attraction other than physical.

In one story, a grieving widow purchases her first sex toy; in another, a woman uses sex to cope with the death of her abusive father, and later in the collection faces the long road to recovery; an administrative assistant seeks out a codependent relationship with her boss; a masochist hires a professional sadist to lead him toward self-actualization; a woman begins to recover from her sexual assault by staging a reenactment on her own terms; and lastly, two lifelong friends in a queerplatonic relationship decide to get married. Asexuality is an under-acknowledged identity within the LGBTQIA community and is often misunderstood. In seven stories, ZUCCHINI dissects the notion of attraction, explores the intersections of sexual identity and trauma recovery, and conveys the experience of intimacy without physical desire.

Three stories in the collection have been published in literary magazines. “Lien” appeared in volume 24 of Quarter After Eight and was nominated for the PEN/Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers. “An Informed Purchase” appeared in the summer 2018 issue of Midwestern Gothic and won the Jordan-Goodman Prize in Fiction. “The Ashtray” appeared in issue 16 of Rivet Journal and has been nominated for a 2020 Pushcart Prize.

Complete at 53,000 words, ZUCCHINI is a collection in conversation with Carmen Maria Machado’s HER BODY AND OTHER PARTIES, Lauren Groff’s FLORIDA, and Samantha Hunt’s THE DARK DARK.

If ZUCCHINI is of interest to you, I would be happy to send you the manuscript. Per your guidelines, I've appended the first twenty pages below, which is the entirety of the first story.

what comes next

i’m going to spend january revising the collection per my agent’s feedback. when i send it back to her, she’ll shoot it out to the first round of publishers. my understanding is that the goal is to get multiple offers on it so that it has to go to auction. if there are no offers, she’ll do another round of submissions, and so on, until we’ve exhausted our options. if that happens, we’ll reassess, but by then hopefully i’ll have another novel finished.

meanwhile, i’ll be continuing the PhD which entails teaching a 2/2, workshop, and 2 lit seminars per semester. i’m also still doing my creative coaching, writing fanfic, and working on my original projects. in summer, i’ll finally be moving to hopefully start going to school in person next fall. 

the PhD is a 3 year program with an optional fourth year. i don’t see myself finishing in 3 years so i do plan to take the extra year unless something comes up. after the PhD, i’m not sure what i’ll do. a lot will probably change by then so i’m trying not to commit to one idea. i might apply to post-doc fellowships and tenure track positions, or i might leave the country and teach overseas, or i might move to LA and try to get in a writer’s room somewhere. i’ve got a lot of options.

overall thoughts/stuff i learned

first of all, you don’t have to go through all of this to publish a book. you could feasibly just write a book and query agents. the only reason it took me this long is because my PTSD brain was sabotaging me every step of the way and i didn’t start taking anything seriously until i found something i was willing to fight for (teaching). i went the MFA/literary route but other, faster routes are just as good. maybe better. probably better. actually if there’s any chance you can go a different route, you should take it.

reflecting on all of this, very little of it has anything to do with talent or being a good writer. nor does it have to do with being at the right place at the right time. i’ve only made it this far because i took very small steps over and over again, and during that walk met people who could help me -- the authors who have mentored me, the editors who accepted my stories, the agent who signed me. and as i got further along my path, i started being able to help other writers in the way i was helped. 

i don’t believe i’ll ever be a great writer. the best thing i can say about my writing is that it’s competent and accessible. everything i write sets out to do something and most of the time it gets the job done. i don’t imagine i’ll ever be able to financially support myself with publishing, and i’ll certainly never be famous or well-known, but i’m good enough to keep making progress. i’ll probably continue to find opportunities that are adjacent to writing and that will keep me afloat, pending my health and provided the country doesn’t devolve into civil war. 

probably the most important thing i learned in all this is that having a wide appeal isn’t the goal. you don’t write to be lauded or liked. you have to stay as true to yourself and your interests as you possibly can, so that the people who come across your path can see you and help you. you’ll need those people; no one gets anywhere alone. if you pander, if you’re too concerned with praise and success or being adored, you won’t make it very far. the rejection will eventually kill you. 

with all that said, my advice to you is this: never stop writing. the ability to share our stories is the single most precious thing we have. you can’t let anything stop you from telling your stories the way you need them to be told.

[ohmygodtheywereparabatai]

This is me officially submitting my voucher of “whatever ask I want to ask”.

So! Give me all your thoughts on Zhaozai (and maybe what you think the reactions of certain people would be to hearing about it? Could be Iroh, or Zuko, or (more self indulgently) Jee, or June).

And if you’re in the mood for it, mayhaps you could throw in your thoughts on when Zhao finally gets to deck him 🥺? If not, that’s chill.

For the record I still say you wholly won.

Goddamn. Pretty sure I’ve had a month to think about this one. I won’t reveal everything, har har, nice try. That’s for you to find out when you’re grey and old and I finally publish the first chapter.

And I am OMITTING the spirit aspect because... just scroll down and look at this thing. That’s how long it is without going into Zhao’s messed-up origins. The theory comes later, and Crooked’s been waiting longer than you, so shh, shh...

Major trigger warnings listed as they appear: violence, war/conflict, emotional abuse, loss of a loved one (death, grief), physical abuse, sexual abuse (may be read as hinted at), poor mental health, trauma, suicide (hinted at), bad ending

WELP, let’s get started! They say all great ships are summarized in one quote:

“Everything in the world is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.” - Oscar Wilde

Part 1. Wow. Oscar Wilde Gets It.

Ahhh, Zhaozai. I don’t think any ATLA ship is as tied to sexuality as them. The promotion jokes? Infinite, timeless, golden.

Though it may be something to *clears throat, adjusts monocle* pontificate on.

Historically, sexuality has made breakthroughs for social change, so it isn’t as dismissible as we make it: from as early as Eve and Adam, the allure Bram Stoker’s Dracula ascribes to women, prostitution and Victorian-era reform, to the gay rights movement, present and ongoing. But you aren’t here for me to dissect the cultural redefinition of our capacity for (or inclination to) attraction, so let’s jump ahead. It’s understood that love is strange and powerful, no need to harp on that - recognized in our world as much as in fiction. If sexuality aligns with power, there’s no two firebrands that chase their symphony in history like Ozai and Zhao. And in spite of Sozin’s Law? A hot bonus!!

Now imagine the supernova when their goals collide, or worse, conflict... welcome to my OTP!

Something to clear up beforehand, because it’s been bothering me a shit-ton: I loathe Ozai. The combination of asshole parenting, an abusive marriage, and forced dues to an awful authority hits too close to home, and I only take the fucktard in small doses. The dynamic where Zhao falls headfirst into devout obsession leaves a sour, sour taste in my mouth. Deifying a (dick)tator that benefits off the sacrifice of men and women who routinely go through the hell of loss, exhaustion, indoctrination, rinse and repeat... No way is Zhao licking his boots here. In fact, I have it the other way around.

Writing a character as the focal half of a piece isn’t the same as adoring them. Maybe I want to see them skewered through the devil’s horns.

And HEY, what better way to unleash hell than have a ship embody the tug-of-war between an iron-fisted leader and a soldier grappling for his own voice?

I take Zhao, I fill him to the brim with the rebellion and wild nature of a trailblazer, an upstart, a knife to the heart of a sustainable regime. A regime built on undermining the individual and parading the whole, collateral be damned... Now here’s this guy, bent on leaving his mark, processing his grief, wrapped up in soul-searching as Ozai (representative of authority, ideology, fear, take your pick) attempts to crush that spark. An attempt that fails without as much grace as Zhao inversely retains in his last moments, when he chooses not to live, a choice so many soldiers don’t get to make. Dark shit, but I don’t mind my coffee black.

On the other hand, Ozai’s phoenix is put out, and never rises again. Sweet, sweet justice. From the start, he’s after power and validation, seeking completion with Azulon, Iroh, Ursa, Azula, and finally Zhao again. The mythically powerful surface burrows out the emptiness underneath - just like his daughter, he’s a force to be reckoned with, sharp as a tack and deadly to trifle with. Without an empathetic connection, they resort to hurtful means of binding others to them, and not everyone gets as lucky as to break away and find freedom:

I may want to vacuum suck out his organs and mail them to Hannibal Lector, but it doesn’t mean I won’t write a human Ozai, the son who resembles Ilah more than Azulon... which is definitely going to pinch the feels. Zhao isn’t spared either. A soldier aware of the lives he jeopardizes for a selfish goal gets his own bitter end. For the massive fight he puts up, he succumbs to disillusionment all the same, seeing as his prison is a cavernous fog for lost souls.

As for the single greatest reason Ozai hones in on Zhao... you’ll have to wait for the theory ;;

Part 2. How Does Their Story Pan Out?

Finally, we put it all together... Be mindful that most of the trigger warnings come into play here.

🚂 Time to board the questionable age gap train! To have both LuZhao and Zhaozai (🧚 / 🔪 ships that fuel me equally - I can have range!), juxtaposed intimacy with two very different royals, I had to plant Zhao halfway, and favoring the prince’s generation... Five years between himself and Lu Ten, and eleven years between himself and Ozai.

Already starting out messy? They get worse.

Their first interaction is when he’s sixteen. Ozai is young, ambitious, finishing his tertiary years at the royal academy in his twenties. Enter a scrawny recruit, pulled by his ear to the front court - caught eavesdropping on classes and taking fervent notes with a smuggled scroll and ink, writing on large leaves and his own arms when he ran out of room. He wanted to know. That was all - the sentence never had an end. Know what? Unclear. Just, to know.

The boy was out of the elites’ loop, more than impoverished, and he wanted in. Zhao was made of kindling, wanted to stamp his footprint at any cost. This was enough for Ozai, who took him under his wing.

The prince had sown the roots of the New Ozai Society long before incident. From the beginning, he always planned ahead; far, far ahead. Ukano was his second-best option when it came to reliable loyalty, pumped full of such idealism that it would have explained the roundness of his stomach if it weren’t for a love of sweets (his wife would go on to always keep them on hand, among them a box of soft, chewy mochi ;)) Ozai’s first option, however, the failsafe that he believed - knew - would serve him without fail? The excitable recruit who drank up every lesson, believing he was sold secrets at the low price of friendship. And at first, the two start out well enough.

(I always thought he looked like he knew exactly what wheels he was setting into motion...)

*ahem* Then happens Iroh. The brother’s shadow he couldn’t crawl out of, insignificance that drives Ozai onto a path of sharp edges and burgeoning malice. The fire in him rages, and so does the persistent absence of Ilah; thinking it was his duty as a friend, Zhao rages with him, too. It’s them against the world - always was, how couldn’t it be? When Ozai turns on him for no reason, for the few, cold moments that fear washes through him, it’s a world that feels much smaller, almost unsafe. But Zhao stays. Learns under the best instructor the prince can find him, Admiral Jeong Jeong - just as cold and brilliant, though there’s a hesitance about him. Ozai calls it cowardice...

Then happens Lu Ten. Serving with as much vigor as Zhao does, a burning glory within him that radiates more compassion than cruelty. It’s a difficult quality for a soldier to have - as the much younger prince struggles to find his place, so does Zhao doubt his, until a good stopping point seems to be with each other. Kissing, you know, arms around each other and held close... that sort of place.

They laugh, snuggle, trail off to pick tea leaves and berries - Zhao doesn’t worry if he said the wrong thing, took the wrong step. Then Lu Ten dies in battle, dearer to him than life, and they go their separate ways: Zhao retreats into himself, hunting for purpose, and Ozai plans ahead. When they inevitably meet again, he’s in his thirties, and Ozai forty-one, on the throne.

It’s all hell loose from here. Ozai’s, guess what, planned ahead - he always has. Azulon is dead and Zhao is the first to be told why. It’s more lie than truth, and it turns him against Zuko and Iroh for good - the reason for repeatedly associating the prince with treason and traitor instead of solely dishonor. It isn’t the first lie he believes. Dozens more. Lu Ten and his cowardly father, plotting insurrection, with ties to an old group Ozai’s intel only knew as the Lotus.

Secrets, at the low price of loyalty and indebted affection. The Firelord keeps his best, most compliant asset on hand (Ozai that’s not how you get a date, please touch grass), and Zhao slaves endlessly for the greatness he enlisted to achieve. When he finally strips the cover off the first lie, discovers it was soldiers that were sacrificed as pawns, among them his friends... well. That spark of rebellion returns, and it’s inflamed.

Zhao, commander, captain, soldier pawn all the same, now too far into the darkness behind the royal family to escape. The shining pillars of a palace that was first to catch the east-rising sun, its vaulted halls housing glory and great men. Once. Zhao sees the truth, sees all too quickly and disappears before he’s caught in the act - which could only mean he sees too much. Ozai resorts to uglier means of silence. Never death. In his mind, mercy is the closest act to love - he always failed to grasp that there were worse choices. Zhao is worn down, slowly, and despite drawing blood when he bit back, dealing black and blue bruises of his own, clutching the ocean scroll tighter and out of sight... war was simple in just one regard. Win more battles, defeat the enemy. He gives in, chooses not to take Zuko’s hand. To the victor goes the ability to wipe the other from existence.

... Exactly what Ozai does. With awful reluctance. It breaks the part of him left to do it - when the anger wears off into isolation, he’s in Ursa’s shoes for the first time. And when all power slips through his fingers, and Ukano turns on him for family, one ideal he never understood - an ideal Zhao had searched for in him, the admiration in his eyes fading in lieu for horror - he’s as alone as his unlover, surrounded by darkness while Zhao is shrouded in pale, cold light.

Even then, the royal wonders - if his arms were inked with the notes he took, ear craned forward to hear inside the classrooms. If he knew, for all his wisdom, where Ozai’s heart had been throughout the years. A cavity in his own chest, maybe... but cupped in the admiral’s hands, a bloody, beating thing, was the only gift the Firelord ever wanted to give.

Too late.

Part 3. WELL UH... Conclusion??

Whoops, didn’t mean for that to get so long. Or weird... half blab and half commentary?

You asked for reactions. Hmm... A large part of Zhaozai is how silent the killing is. A leader that injects their image into every facet of life in order to solidify control - an invisible invasion, a prison with no bars, and then slow, careful suffocation. You know. But if word were to surface somehow...

Iroh would be, appalled? A gut-instinct for a lot of people, I’d say. His tie to Lu Ten, to share the same cord where his son had been their greatest hope, would be quite the *Iroh 👌🏼 fingers* stirring content to explore. Zuko, I see as more upset than concerned at first - maybe propelled onto the path of looking for honor elsewhere than his father’s approval. When he becomes Firelord, he personally makes sure soldiers are given the opportunity to seek mental care, and secures outreach centers for those in trouble.

Jee, ahhh. Don’t know if the SS will make it into my writing in fully-fleshed form, but if I am kind enough to give Zhao friends that aren’t dead when he needs them... Probably the fic wouldn’t get its proper dark ending - probably Jee would stick Ozai in the damn ground or die trying. (Now that’s something I’d read... have I mentioned that I despise Ozai? I feel like I have.) There’s an opening scene trapped in my head now where Zhao’s perfectly hoity-toity until Jee claps him just a little too hard on the back...

June, biiiish. I could see her and Nyla hunting Ozai to the ends of the earth. Westley’s speech to Prince Humperdinck in The Princess Bride, but not one word of it is bluff. Same for Azula, should she end up bonding as quickly with Zhao as I think she would.

And does Zhao ever get to deck him? Yes, yes, they end things with a few loosened teeth in Ozai’s mouth, several heated Agni Kais, but as I said... win the battle, lose the war. That’s what Zhao seems to be to the fandom, isn’t it - the loser? My goal is to highlight every inch of struggle behind it. It’s what he and so many others would deserve - not just soldiers, but all victims of post-traumatic stress disorder and manipulative abuse. If I can do an angle as sensitive as this one proper justice, dig my fingers into the aftermath, the unhealthy patterns, it would mean a lot personally.

[ais-n]

hi!!! firstly i just want to say i LOVE ICOS with my whole being. i read it for the first time in high school abt 5 years ago and read it again over quarantine last summer and it drew me in and wrapped me up wholly, i couldn’t put it down. i love the story and characters so much.

i also love writing very much and have always written small stories, fan fiction etc., the past couple weeks i’ve felt inspired to write fiction of my own, a novel of sorts with my own original plot and characters, and i wanted to ask you for some advice/ words of wisdom.

how did you plan out the characters you wrote? or did you more just let them write themselves? and did you plan out chapter by chapter how the plot would unfold before writing, or again let it happen as you wrote it? i’ve found it easier for me personally to let things happen as i write, and that the characters do things and say things i never planned for, was wondering if you felt the same or if you were more organized lol.

also what platform did you use to write on?

sorry for the long post, i hope you’re doing well.

Aww thank you, that's so sweet! I'm glad you like it :)

Side note, before I forget to mention - I just made a subreddit for my writing/stuff which will include ICoS things... I'll be adding more info on there this weekend hopefully, and I'm sure I'll do another post over here too but the link if you want it is https://www.reddit.com/r/aisylum/ It may be a place to find some other stuff in the future if you think of anything. I was thinking of doing an AMA or Q&A type thing over there too. Obviously, always feel free to ask here too <3 I love either place. Just wanted to mention while I'm thinking of it :)

I'm so happy you've been inspired to write - good luck and great job! I think that sounds absolutely awesome and I bet your story will be fantastic :)

We kind of did a bit of a hybrid.... I really wish I had the original bulletpoint list for what the book was originally going to be, but "Sonny" and I had opposite ways of looking at things. "He" would delete things as we went, and I would squirrel it all away until later lol So "he" deleted a bunch of bulletpoints/early info as we went because neither of us actually expected anything to come of any of it, so I also wasn't super anal about keeping track of things way early on. I might still have some documents buried somewhere with info but offhand I don't know where.

Anyway so I kind of am more like you in the way you write, but I will sometimes make the effort to try to plan a bit, especially if there's a cowriter. For ICoS for example, we had a rough outline planned of what was going to be the story, we started writing, we let the characters/plot/etc go where it needed to go, that meant things we hadn't planned from the start came in. The original story was basically mostly Evenfall, then skip Afterimage and Interludes for the most part but not entirely, and then we didn't really have a hugely detailed end initially from what I recall but we knew generally what was going to happen, so some of the stuff from later Fade would probably have been in the bullets. But when we got to the end of Evenfall, whatever was our next bulletpoint just did not feel right; we knew all the other stuff that starts Afterimage would happen instead.

For my long ongoing LGBTQ+ fantasy series I'm working on, the first book is finished but I'm editing it to change/add some significant stuff. I have a whole bunch of info on that which I've compiled over the years, so to an extent I have a general idea of plot things that will go down in the rewrite and also in the future into the other books, but a lot of details and even bigger points are left untouched. I prefer to let the characters/story/world/plot go where it wants to go, and I just have general points that I know make sense or have to happen eventually, and I look for how to fit them in as organically as possible to the way the story is going. If that makes sense. I will occasionally try to really work out exact storyline bullets but I get so bored so quickly that I never finish.

Because I like world-building and character development, I actually find it more fun and more useful for my organizational skills (any that exist, anyway, lol) to be aimed more toward that. Rather than focusing on the story and what the plot will be and what character will say what in which chapter, I prefer to dig into the past of the characters, dig into the world, the magic system or whatever is relevant, and have that info all squirreled away somewhere if needed. That way, as I'm going forward with writing the characters/story more organically, if things are going around what I initially thought the plot would be, this gives me something to then pull from for inspiration on how to incorporate this new plot/etc into the world more seamlessly, and make it feel more at home. And if you have all that info on characters, it also makes it easier to throw in things that flesh the character out more, and that can all lead toward character development in the future.

Boyd, for example - when we first had the valentine thing come up, it was just going to be a thing that happened that showed their miscommunication and how fucked the Agency was. But then it didn't make sense to me for it to just be a thing mentioned once and never again. So then that added to Boyd's story; now he was a valentine, so if it made sense or it was relevant, that was a thing that could or should come up. As the story progressed and the world grew, and with that the Agency and other factors were more fleshed out, it became more and more relevant. Then, by the time Fade came around, it was fully integrated into Boyd's story because by that point it would be weirder if it weren't - and because it made total sense in the characters' perspectives and the different organizations' perspectives and the story as a whole for the things to happen the way they did. But all of that, of course, then informs Boyd's mental health, physical health, and overall stability. Which then affects how he interacts with the world and other characters, which then affects the plot to an extent because of the choices he would make that may be different now, in the context of these life experiences, compared to prior to those life experiences. If the valentine thing never happened in Evenfall, a lot of Fade would be different. When we had that coming up in Evenfall, we didn't know another book was coming at all, let alone 3, let alone that it would end up having such a significant impact on the story and character development. But that's just kind of an example of building on things as you go, which is what I tend to do, personally.

As for the program - in the beginning we just used Word I think, and talked on AIM or something. It's been so long I don't totally remember. But for most of it we used Google Docs because that made it easy to share and write/edit at the same time.

Also, haha never be sorry for long posts - as you can see, I will almost always go longer ^_~

Hope you're doing well too! Thanks for your interest :)