#now i DO write drafts and i love writing drafts (unwillingly)

[rinwellisathing]

You're Awful, I Love You: Part 24

Enver Gortash/Trans Male Tiefling Durge

Sentry didn't look up from the selection of fine axes he was perusing as Fel appeared by his side. He merely continued to check their sharpness, running a finger along the blade's edge curiously. He knew his butler was there, of course. As with anything to do with father, he could sense him before he even spoke. “Hullo, Fel. Here to chastise me about who I choose to fuck again?” He asked, eyes never leaving the gleaming gold filligree of this new halberd's handle. He didn't want to replace his dear old friend, but he had to admit this was exquisite. “Not presently, my lurid lord, your father has...” Fel paused a moment, as though searching for the best way to explain. “Your father has seen fit to suggest you ally with Bane's chosen, and, in fact, another...” “Oh? So it seems I was correct to join forces with him. Fancy that. I, father's chosen, doing something of value to our family without the input of underlings.” Sentry feigned shock and surprise, sarcasm oozing from his tone. “So who is this other chosen? Because personally, I think Enver and I do just fine on our own.”

“There is a necromancer, young master. An immortal warrior with a....rather distasteful...army. A true mockery of your father's vision, of your gifts. But, it seems his cooperation will be necessary for the plan at large.” Fel replied. Sentry wrinkled his nose. “Well, look on the bright side, Fel. When the dead get up, it's just a chance at a second draft. Kill, kill, and kill again.” He smirked.

“Oh, yes, and before I forget, I've come bearing a message from your....bedwarmer.” He handed the parchment to Sentry. Sentry felt a smile cross his face as he smelled the scent of an expensive perfume mixed with cheap liquor and engine oil emanating from the parchment. He discreetly raised it to his nose for just a moment, inhaling the intoxicating scent and letting a little shudder of desire run through his body.

Opening the parchment, he read through, his mind easily translating the code they had recently designed. He knew he should probably think on his response a bit more carefully but the plan that was laid out invigorated him. He was tempted to forego responding and simply rush to his companion's home. But instead, he took a graphite from his satchel and leaned against the wall, writing his response with a manic swiftness and then, for good measure, he grinned as he added his father's own skull emblem atop the hand of Bane, a cheeky little joke as well as his own signature.

“Alright, return this to him.” He re-rolled the parchment and handed it to Fel. “I have a few more errands to run before I can stop in and speak to him in person about this.

Gortash couldn't help but smile, ignoring the withering looks he was receiving from the butler, who looked like he would prefer to be doing anything else but delivering a correspondence to him. He noted with a sense of odd fondness the changes Sentry had made to the hand of Bane. It was rather charming, perhaps something to keep in the back of his mind for later use. “The black hand of bane shakes the bloody hand of Bhaal.” “Unwillingly, sir, I assure you. Only for the sake of things far greater than you and your...crude master.” Fel sniffed haughtily. “Forgive me, Mr. Fel, but I was under the impression that The Executioner spoke for Bhaal, not you. And everything he's given me so far has been quite willing...Enthusiastically so.” Gortash replied with a smug smirk on his face as he responded to Sentry's latest reply, using the same red ink as before. “Enthusiasm for a shiny new plaything, that is all. My murderous master is young and young men get these passing fancies. A paltry creature clinging to these trappings of hollow nobility as you do should know the high born amuse themselves with catamites and the like all the time.” Fel sneered, glaring impatiently up at Gortash. “Now if you're quite finished...”

“So...if I'm to understand correctly, from what Sentry explained, if you are killed, you reappear back at the temple?” Gortash's expression darkened. “Or at his side, where I belong.” Fel replied. “But I hardly see why one such as---hrrkkk!” Gortash's dark eyes stared icily down at the fiend as he stabbed the parchment into his chest with a letter opener that perhaps wasn't quite sharp enough to accomplish the task without considerable force. He shoved and twisted brutally, teeth clenched as the creature looked indignantly up at him as though he had simply thrown something unpleasant on him. “How....dare....you....unworthy....” Fel managed before he collapsed, seeming to melt into an oozing pool of foul red slime something like coagulating blood before draining into the floor boards. “The hired help should learn proper respect for their betters.” Gortash turned away from the dissipating mess and sank into a chair, head resting on his hand lost in thought. Fel was for the most part a mere annoyance, but the wording he had used had sparked a rage in Enver that he hadn't had to force down in quite some time. His mind returning to Raphael, to his upbringing in The House of Hope.

He instinctively gripped his upper arm as though the bruises were still there. He was acutely aware, gazing up at the portrait Sentry had painted of the scars, of the memory of a broken nose. All 'souvenirs' from a life spent under the yoke of that Cambion and his servants. Ever beating, every moment spent terrified of worse things, time spent in the boudoir. He would almost prefer the beatings Nubaldin doled out over punishment from Raphael personally, or worse, when Haarlep was tasked with providing punishment instead. A cold shudder ran down his spine as his mind turned in disgust to the fact that he could feel that punishment to this day, even once or twice when he was alone with Sentry, that yank of the chain, the convulsive shudder of pleasure through him against his will. The only small solace he had in those thoughts was Sentry understood. His dread executioner, his beautiful, broken Sentry. Everything about the tiefling read as someone who had not lived an easy life. He pictured the entrance of the sculpture garden, the mutilated tiefling couple. Their wounds told at least a bit of the story even if Sentry didn't speak it. The mutilation he'd visited on them was art in its purest form, symbolism that told a story. As Gortash thought of Sentry, his mind calmed, at least a little. With The Executioner by his side, he was closing in on a plan that would guarantee power and security for him, all he had dreamed of since he was a child, alone and uncared for in his parents' dismal little dwelling or hiding wherever he could in Raphael's depraved home. Respect, authority...love...although, difficult as it was to fathom, perhaps he had that already. Sentry was at least half mad, that was certain, but his devotion was unquestionable. Devotion, however, was not quite the same as love and Enver was wary of believing it was. All of this swirled around his mind like a fine wine at some dull upper city tasting as he drifted off to sleep, the fist of his god closing around his mind, intent to deliver his orders.

[healerqueen]

Writing Asks: 1, 2, 6, 16, 20

Thanks for the ask! 1. Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

My main project right now is Draft 2 of the original first book of my main fantasy series, the Avonholm series. I finished Draft 1 of Book 1 in 2018 and went on to plan sequels and prequels, and now I'm applying that experience to Book 1. I've been writing the book for ten years, and I'm hoping to make more progress on Draft 2 this year. The Avonholm series is kingdom adventure / non-magical fantasy that focuses on one family of cousins, who navigate the political situation in their kingdom in a fictional world. It has adventure, including travel, quests, and battles. It has political intrigue. And it also has a hefty portion of coziness, especially in the characters and relationships, with a major focus on family, friendship, and found family. I love that it starts with a strong blood family that becomes found family for lonely people. I also love that the parents are involved, active, and major characters and players in the story and plot. I love the relationships between the main characters, mostly platonic family and friend relationships, with parents as mentors. And I love the character arcs of the young adult members of the cast. I'm STILL working on the beginning of Draft 2 of Book 1 after all these years--though I should probably count thousands of words of detailed outlining as multiple drafts. I'm re-outlining it one more time before drafting the entire book again. I can't wait to finally have a readable copy for my close writing partners to read. 2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

I'm looking forward to writing some of the books in the middle of my main series. While the first books focus mostly on platonic relationships, there's a wonderful romance coming up. It doesn't start till later in the series, but it's beautiful--and I can't wait to write it. I'm also looking forward to writing historical fiction someday, and I have a couple of books on the back burner--beautiful books I love. They'll be difficult to write because of the research, but it's worth it to make them excellent and accurate. 6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

I'm going to have to say Jason, the antivillain character in my main series. It's always a hilarious time when I talk about him, think about him, or write about him. Jason is a charmer and drama king with a smolder like Flynn Rider. He has redemption potential, but it's gonna take a longgg time before he's dragged unwillingly into a redemption arc. Until then, he takes great pleasure in causing chaos, working for the bad guys, and tormenting one other character in particular (who is also fun to write, along with the fun interactions between them). He's very good-looking, but it took me years to notice, because I think arrogance and other red flags are so ugly. He thinks he's the greatest and he makes sure everyone else thinks so too--but he secretly struggles with self-loathing and other issues. He's a fascinating character all around, and he's always entertaining. 16. Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?)

It's been nice to have fresh things in the book I've been working on for so long--new scenes, characters, subplots, POVs, and plot points, and new elements in old scenes that transform everything for the second draft. I am a planner who doesn't get tired of the same story, but it's so nice to have new things to discover at every stage of the writing process. It also makes for a better book, since I'm a better writer now than I was when I wrote the first draft. 20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

I love seeing one pair of characters go from a very negative relationship to a positive one over the course of many years--a long journey of change and ups and downs. They start out with an explosive relationship that doesn't get much better even when they're trying to change, but it's eventually followed by forgiveness and a tentative friendship--and then they are rewarded with a wonderful and strong relationship, in time. It's too early to share most of the symbolism and foreshadowing in the series, even with my writing partners--though some people know spoilers. But I get to enjoy it myself whenever I run into a bit of foreshadowing or symbolism that surprises me. One thing that surprised me recently was that the new opening page I tested out had a callback to a book much later in the series. I was surprised and delighted by the parallel, a physical event and its meaning.

[beck-a-leck]

Was talking Rune Factory HCs and the mechanics of the Return spell with some folks on Discord.

Got an Idea.

Immediately made the Idea Angsty TM

Had to write the story

I was prompted to make the Angsty Idea for Randolph/Yuki, and hoo boy the ideas started flowing.

This really was supposed to be a short little snippet, just to highlight the mechanics and angst of the headcanon, but as per usual with me, it's getting a little out of hand.

it's turning into a full Randolph/Yuki romance backstory. it's gonna happen.

But for now, have a rough draft little peek at some of what I've written.

Most of it will be beneath a cut for length, but also because of depictions of physical trauma. Read with caution.

💜💜💜

Randolph regained consciousness when he hit the stone floor of his cell. He didn’t remember getting dragged out of the courtyard, down the prison steps.

He stirred weakly, in too much pain to do more than twitch a muscle. He rolled onto his back and had to stop and catch his breath. He couldn’t see well. He could feel the hot blood pouring from his face where the other prisoner’s blade had caught him. He tried to force that eyelid open but only saw darkness. The other eye was nearly swollen shut. He could see blurs, light and shadows, large shapes, anything beyond that… a Silver Wolf could be right next to him and he’d never know until the beast’s teeth were in him.

And even then. Randolph was in so much pain he was fairly certain getting mauled by a wolf would not register to his body. His nerves were maxed out.

Randolph drifted in and out of consciousness. He was bleeding too much. He could feel his splintered bones moving places they should not be.

Randolph was not going to survive the night.

Every time he closed his eyes, he expected that to be the last time.

His mind left his body. If these were his last hours alive, he’d rather spend them dwelling on better places and kinder people. He thought about Yuki and the others in Rigbarth who had welcomed him with open arms. He thought about those pleasant walks to nowhere, arm in arm with Yuki, splashing into the surf, dragging her along as she squealed about the seaweed touching her, long nights alone together at the observation point stargazing.

“HEY!”

Cold water splashed over Randolph’s face, bringing him unwillingly back to reality. He could barely make out the dark shape of a guard at his cell door. He’d just dumped the cup of water that was part of Randolph’s dinner over his face.

“If you’re going to die, have the decency to wait until the night shift comes in, you useless bastard!”

There was a thin splat and hollow clatter as he dropped Randolph’s food just past the bars. Then he was gone.

Randolph’s head felt like it weighed a ton as he turned it slowly to look. It didn’t take the rats long at all to run out and claim the food as their own. He didn’t care. He’d rather not have a last meal than eat that.

Randolph closed his eyes again. A last meal… he’d give anything to have one of Yuki’s jam rolls just one more time.

Randolph dreamed of the bakery. His imagination was so vivid he could almost smell the fresh-baked bread. But what he most wanted was standing behind the counter, with that sweet smile of hers as she helped a customer.

“Yuki.”

“Randolph!” Her eyes lit up. She vaulted over the counter and threw herself into his arms. “Honey, where have you been? It’s been so long! I thought something terrible had happened.”

Randolph hesitated just long enough to feel Yuki’s solid arms around him, and then he held her close, tight. He buried his head in her shoulder, her scent filled his nose, and he wanted to hold onto her and never ever let go.

He thought he would die before seeing her again.

He was dying. He knew this wasn’t real. But it felt real. And he wasn’t going to go without saying what he needed to.

“Yuki, I’m sorry, I’ve been a godsdamned idiot. I love you. I love you so much. I never, ever want to leave you again. Can you forgive me? I said such horrible things. I’m sorry.” He was sobbing now. Holding onto her like he was a drowning man and she was the only thing keeping his head above water.

“I want to come home, Yuki. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home.”

Randolph repeated that last line over and over. His dying wish. If he couldn’t be with Yuki, at least he could dream about it.

His body hurt. The pain was excruciating in places where he wasn’t going cold and numb. His vision started to darken, and then went white around the edges. He had the strangest sensation of floating, and then gravity returning all too suddenly, knocking the breath from his lungs and driving splintered bone deeper into places it should not be.

The pain shattered the illusion. The dream of Yuki disappeared from his arms. Curiously, the scent of the bakery lingered.

He could faintly hear a voice, someone down the cellblock screaming, but they almost sounded like Yuki. They called for a doctor – couldn’t be for him. He was too far gone.

Someone cradled his head in their lap, held his hand. Did they think he was already dead? Wasn’t he still breathing?

Honestly, he couldn’t tell.

He cracked his eye open one last time. He saw Yuki looking over him, haloed in warm light.

Randolph smiled and let go.

[edaworks]

Reynard the Fox's holding cell has me curious. I'd love to hear about it c:

Sure! Thanks @dovesofcedar for the ask/sorry for the textwall response :P

Throughout the first arc (feels weird to say that) of my WIP, I reference a specific collection of poems/New England literature as a plot device. Reynard the Fox, a wily character common to a bunch of European fables, comes up in the poem "tied" to this chapter.

This is also the only chapter sitting in a standalone document. Why? Well...the document in my WIP folder named "text" is my main draft file, and it used to be absurdly long. I've never done this before; legal writing is a constant for me but it requires other skills (persuasive/technical writing) and needs to hold attention in a very different way. One if by Land, on the other hand, started as a stress-delirium-induced near-accident spun off of a oneshot I wrote at the end of April. There was an element of "if I keep it casual I won't intimidate myself with what I'm working on and freeze up," so I just kept chucking everything into one disaster file. It eventually contained:

about 2/3 of the first arc (70Kish words)

planning for parts of Arc 2

cut material

some drafting for Arc 2 (a couple tens of thousands more words)

all my non-spreadsheet research and notes (we won't even go there)

Inevitably, it reached a length able to crash and stall out Google Docs. @twosides--samecoin and I were talking about this and she gently pointed out that I could choose to not keep it all in one place don't mind me I'm a dumb bird and offered some good advice on process/how to handle it, so now there is some Organization™ instead of one long file and scattered Excel spreadsheets (the spreadsheets have been consolidated into one sheet with different tabs, and mainly consist of "how do I make X thing work in the Falloutverse" research).

The portion of Act I that I'm actively picking at - this chapter, Reynard the Fox - has been pulled out of my draft file to its own document where the file size is manageable, and where I can more easily compare it to the extant draft. It's about 9.5K words at the moment. It's a "holding cell" because I'm full of bad jokes: a temporary home for something that needs to be processed before it can be bonded out and released into the wild on monitoring. hur hur criminal defense jokes

EDIT: whoop forgot this part of the game, here's a snip. This particular character's viewpoint is very stream-of-consciousness and is one of a couple that I write first-person-present with a lot of run-on sentences.

He releases the wall. Something comes away under his right fingers, like dust scales from moth wings. Chalk powder. He looks back at the wall and finds what he’s looking for, smudged, but visible: a small starburst of lines around a central point. Six lines, not eight. In the center, an X. Railsign. Danger.

A familiar, hated, forced calmness is spreading through his limbs like anesthesia. The world slows down. Every deafening noise, every sluggish trickle of air, every scent, every object; they get cataloged in his mind as it all-unwillingly constructs a three-dimensional map of the space around him, forcing him into an almost out-of-body sense of heightened perception. He turns through suspended animation, dipping to catch the bat’s handle in his right fingers and gracefully swinging it across his shoulders; stepping with purpose back towards his own house. His mind screams that he's slow as molasses, but he's quick, quite quick for a world which has all but ground, shuddering, to a halt.

Fuck.

[ichigoromi]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 | 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 | 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

It's finally here! After weeks of planning, rewriting, drafts after drafts. I have finished writing! I am so excited for you guys to read the second part!

But before that, have you finished part 1? If not, here it is!

Part 1— When he falls for his child's teacher | Part 2

Pairing(s): Sakusa Kiyoomi (timeskip) x fem reader! (she/her) x our precious Roku!

Genre(s): Romance, fluff, singledad!Sakusa

Warning(s): agegap! (7 years)

a/n - I'M SORRY! The age gap that I forgot to mention in part 1, sorry if it's a little too much or uncomfortable for you!

Want to join my taglist to keep up? join here!

Enjoy!

Sakusa Kiyoomi

For weeks, you could not look at Sakusa right in the eye without thinking about Roku’s little secret that he let you into. 

Sakusa, he was confused as to why you were avoiding him. 

He thought you two were getting closer when you distanced yourself from him.

Did he accidentally offend you that made you distant from him? 

Roku loves to share his day at the academy with his father, and Sakusa unknowingly smiles at your name whenever he mentions you. 

There’s no doubt that his father has fallen for his teacher. 

But what about y/n sensei? Does she shares the same feelings as his father, or is he just another student’s father? 

So, Roku is on a mission to find out y/n sensei’s true feelings about his father and bring them together! 

That way, his papa can be happy again, and Roku gets his favourite person:) 

Our little helper, Roku, mission starts now!

After that incident at the playground, Roku made more friends and became more open, but his favourite time during playtime was still lazing on your lap and acting cute to you. Today was just another day of you cuddling Roku in your arms and him snuggling closer to you. The other kids were jealous of how close he was with you. 

“Sensei, do ya have a boyfriend?” Roku innocently asked you, and you almost gasped out loud. 

What in the world did this child just ask? 

“Eh…Sensei does not have a boyfriend. Roku, why do you ask sensei that?” He shyly buried his face in your chest and shook his head unwillingly to answer your question. 

Little did you know, your cute student is playing cupid for you and his father. 

“I’m gonna go play!” He suddenly got up from your lap and ran to the play area to join his new friends. 

Kids… are just so hard to read. 

---

During the kids’ nap time, the teachers gathered in the staff room for a short break. While breaking, your colleagues love to gossip. 

Today — it’s about your love life. 

How can they ignore how Sakusa Kiyoomi, the professional volleyball player also part of the national team, is very interested in their young colleague? 

“So…how’s it going with Roku’s father?” 

You choked on the iced latte when the principal asked you that question. 

“Huh? Sir, nothing is going on with Sakusa-san and me. I am his son’s teacher, and he is just my student’s parent.” You cleared it out, but your heart says otherwise. 

It has been a while since you dated after coming out of a long relationship that lasted five years. 

Now, you’re twenty-five and going to return to your post-graduate studies soon. 

You are still Roku’s teacher, and it is weird to date your student’s parent against your work ethic. 

“Oh, you are going back to your studies again. Do you still want to do part-time here? We can work out our schedules and further discuss the details.” Your supervisor suggests, but you politely turn it down. 

Your feelings for Sakusa are developing into something romantic, so working part-time here is a big no.

---

Today, Sakusa was running extra late, and you offered to stay behind with Roku and lock up for your older colleagues. You were the only one not married, so you were the best option. Besides, Roku is the most comfortable for you. 

He sits in between your legs and leans his back against you. 

“Sensei~, can’t you live with me? I like chu~!” Roku pouts cutely and stares at you with those big round eyes. 

Even though he is so cute, you must resist. (a/n- how could you?! Roku is so cuteeee!)

“Roku, I can’t do that…I am only your teacher. You see, only families live together. Sensei lives together with her mama and papa. So, I can’t….”You stop amid your sentence as you feel the small arms of Roku wrapped around you. 

“But you are family! I want sensei to be my family!” 

His words were so innocent, yet it carries a deep yearning for a mother figure in his life. His mother was never in his life, and only his father was there. 

It was only you two and, Kiyoomi who stood there in shock at his son’s words. 

“Papa! Why can’t sensei be part of our family?” Roku was getting a little anxious, and you could sense it. 

You were about to comfort him, but his father picked him up and whispered a few words, and Roku quietly sat down on the stairs. 

Kiyoomi gently took your hands into his, and you let out a sigh but never showed any signs of rejection. 

“I know I may not be the ideal man you can date. I’m a single father, bad at maintaining my relationship and sometimes lack as a father. But, you truly made my heart feel something, and how you make Roku so happy and how you pay attention to him made me feel deeper for you. 

I like you, and I want to give us a chance. Those weeks that you distanced yourself from me made me feel lost and confused, and I thought I might not stand a chance. I’m not rushing for an answer, but I want to clarify my feelings. 

I, Sakusa Kiyoomi, have feelings for you. I want you to be part of mine and Roku’s new beginnings. Give me your answer when you’re ready.” 

Before he lets you go, he pulls you into his arms and gives you a warm hug. 

“Come on, let’s close up, and I’ll send you home. It’s too late for you to walk home alone.” 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. 

What is this man doing to your heart? Your heart is getting a little restless after his confession. 

Bless your poor heart. 

---

For the last three months that you will be working at the kindergarten, you have worked extra hard to hand over your workload and prepare to give your answer to Sakusa. 

Whenever he comes and picks Roku up, he would send you home and even bring an extra blanket to cover your legs when you wear skirts or dresses. He was just being patient, and you feel bad for making him wait so long when you already wanted to give him an answer after that confession. 

So when the last day of your work came by, you knew that you had to do it. 

Roku was standing next to you, getting fidgety while waiting for his father to come and fetch him. 

But the truth is, he wants to know whether will his favourite person be part of his family? 

Although he did not understand his father’s words, he understood his father’s feelings for you.

The same familiar black Range rover pulls up to the entrance, and your breath hitched at the sight of it because today is the day you give him your answer. 

“Sakusa-san! I have an answer to your confession!” 

Sakusa waited with bated breath for you to continue. 

“Yes! I want to be part of-” He cuts you off by pulling you close to him and leans down to captures your lips with his. 

Roku shyly covers his eyes as his precious teacher and father kiss. 

“Mama! What about Roku? Roku wants a kiss on his lips too!” 

Well, your future is looking a little brighter now with the Sakusa’s in your life. 

---

[*bonus timeskip scene — Five years later*]

You sneakily took a picture of the four napping on the king-size bed. All four spotting your husband’s dark luscious curls and a mix of yours and his features. 

Kiyoomi was cuddling your daughter in his arms while Roku cradled his baby brother, Ren, in his arms. Your heart melts at the sight, and you lean over to greet your husband with a kiss on the lips first, then your daughter, Rina. 

Roku woke up shortly after hearing your kisses to his father and baby sister. 

“Mama, I want kisses too.” He crawls into your lap, and you kiss him all over his face. 

Even though he is already ten years old, Roku is still the same as last time, clingy towards you and loves to act cute towards you. He even takes care of his younger siblings very well. 

But towards his father…he’s still jealous that his father gets to hug you to sleep. 

“When did you reach home? I haven’t cooked dinner yet.” Kiyoomi finally woke up and leaned over to plant a kiss on your lips and wraps his arm around your waist. 

“Just now. How was your nap? It seems like you were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t dare to wake up all of you.” Seeing his father hugging you, he snuggles himself closer to you. 

Rina and Ren have awoken, like their older brother and father; they are both very attached to you. 

“Mama!” They both crawled toward you, and you reached out to pull them but overestimated how much they had grown. 

The kids were all over you while Kiyoomi was behind you, holding you securely. 

“Thank you for being my family. I love you so much.” He buries his face into the crook of your neck. 

“We love you too, Mama!” 

Accepting Sakusa Kiyoomi and loving him was the best decision that you made in life, and this beautiful family is now your life purpose.

🍓's taglist - @wolffmaiden @mysterypotatoink @notamazinglizzy @daydreaming-bao @freaknerdanfie @coconut-dreamz @slurp-slurp-slurp

wanna join my taglist? click here!

Thank you for those joining the taglist and thank you to all who have been waiting for this! Truly, I have never felt so attached and happy while writing! This was a short journey and I hope that the wait was worth it for you guys!

Stay safe and healthy!

I will see you guys in my future works!

With love,

Rosalie🍓

[scribblingfangirl]

OPPOSITES ATTRACT | THE WITCHER - JASKIER

not my gif!

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Author’s Note: I'm back, just like The Witcher with its second season! Which was amazing in my opinion, but I also never read the books or played the games, so I went into it without any expectations or wishes. This one-shot has been in my drafts since season 1 came out, so I apologize if some of this might be off. I have to get into the swing of writing and The Witcher again.

word count: ~ 1.6k

prompt: modern!AU, university!AU

warnings:  none really

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You weren't exactly sure how it had started. Apparently, it was someone from a room at the end of the hall that thought your year needed to celebrate its last night at the Oxenfurt Academy.

At first, it was just someone strumming on a guitar, accompanied by some laughter and loud talking. Then, however, the need to celebrate had spread. Now nearly all of the dorm doors were wide open, allowing the students and some teachers to mingle around.

Whoever was playing the guitar at the beginning had soon been replaced by none other than Jaskier himself and some scattered loudspeakers. His clear and strong voice floated above the crowd, reaching every ear on the floor and, possibly, some above and below as well. He danced more or less elegantly through the crowd, avoiding any possible collision and graciously held onto his instrument, while his nimble finger never played the same song twice.

Even though your room was one of the only ones still cut off from the outside world, Jaskier's voice was strong enough to reach you through the closed door. You didn't want to join the festivities just yet, not ready to say goodbye to a big part of your life. You smiled at all the memories you had made and all the experiences you'd gone through while you packed your last belongings into your suitcase. Tomorrow the only thing to do was to say goodbye, to the place, to him.

People didn't really know you. You were the quiet one, famous for arriving late and being Jaskiers best friend. "Opposites attract," people had said and left it at that, not trying to get to know you better. Still, you wouldn't trade your years at the academy for anything.

As you were halfway done getting ready, struggling to put on your dress as your arms were too short to reach the zipper, the door opened, and your roommate walked in.

"Hey!" she mustered you giggling, "Need some help?". Holding a beer bottle in her hand, she swayed a little and had to stabilise herself by leaning against the closet.

You just nodded and turned your back to her. Another opposites attract. You were the party pooper while she was the first one swinging her legs and arms to the tune of whatever music was playing, no matter how bad it sounded. After putting down the bottle, she approached you slowly, taking in the dress.

"So," she said as she pulled up the zipper, winking at you, "trying to impress somebody special?" Turning you around to face her, she patted down some wrinkles and pulled the dress straight in some places. "You know, he'll love looking at you. I mean, he already does. But until now, he only ever saw you in… less showing and elegant clothes." She looked at you closely. "Actually… I think you might need me as a bodyguard. There are some boys out there that won't know when to stop, not with you looking like this."

"Is it too much? I can change!"

"Oh no, honey, you won't. We've come too far to turn back now. Grab the opportunity! It's your last night together! You'll go back home to Cidaris, and he'll stay here as a professor. Though, only Melitele knows for how long. That boy's not made to teach other people, and he still got a lot to learn himself."

Unwillingly you rolled your eyes at her words but laughed and followed her out of your room into the sweaty mess of people in the corridor. "I’m sure you’ll be too preoccupied looking for your own victim of the night.”

The music wasn’t precisely louder now that you stepped out of your room, but you could almost feel the vibrations in your bones. You were surprised that none of the other blocks had come to complain yet, but you guessed they had their own parties going on.

You squeezed yourself through the mass of people into Jaskiers room. Few were here, and it was almost as empty as yours, but you could see his roommate sitting on his bed with a girl that was in some of your classes. Giving him a slight wave, you turned to face their cupboard. You weren’t a fan of any alcohol, and your stomach was begging for food.

You knew that it wasn’t nice to go through the stuff of others without their permission, but some time ago, Jaskiers roommate had realised that you were spending a lot of time in their room listening to Jaskier playing the songs he had to prepare for class. This had brought up the whole conversation about opposites attract, by the way, as he thought you were dating but was quickly shut up by Jaskier. Remembering that still hurt, as a tiny speckle of hope had shattered that day.

Anyway, as his roommate, and anybody else for that matter, knew that Jaskier didn’t really care about human needs like food and water (“the only thing one needs is excellent music”), he made the rule that there would always be food for you in the cupboard. Of course, he organised it since Jaskier couldn’t even walk a few steps without tripping over thin air. You had already opened the cupboard door as a hand touched your shoulder and began to close it in front of you.

“As much as I enjoy looking at this beautiful back view, I can’t let a stranger go through our stuff.”

Before the cupboard door closed entirely, you managed to grab something tightly wrapped, labelled ‘Y/N’.

“Oh no! Gods, that’s for…”

“Me.” You turned around and faced a shocked looking Jaskier.

“Y… Y/N?”

“Really, Julian? After walking in on me naked on countless occasions, you can’t even recognise me by looking at my back?”

His already flushed cheeks turned even redder. “W… well, almost naked. I never actually got a peek of anything, I swear! Tonight, however…” You hadn’t realised how near you were to each other, him almost trapping you within his arms, pinning you between his chest and the cupboard. “Y/N, you look beautiful tonight.” He stopped, his expression changing from serious to a more admiring look and the tenseness in his arms weakening a bit. “You always do if I’m being honest.”

At those words, a surge of energy, raw and from deep within, filled your body, and you panicked. Wiggling yourself, almost elegantly, out of his arms, you threw him a last look and walked out the door. The package from the cupboard is still clutched tightly in your hands. Then you fled into another room as fast as the mass of students standing in the corridor allowed you to do so. What were you thinking?! He had just told you that you looked beautiful, and you went and destroyed the moment like that?

Not watching your surroundings, you ran straight into someone. Looking up, you saw Valdo Marx, and your jaw clenched for all the mean things and horrible rumours he had spread about Jaskier. What the hell is he doing here.

“Hey! Can’t you… oh. Fancy seeing you here, beautiful. Where’s your shabby appendage?”

"Sorry, I didn’t see you,” you mumbled, not wanting to further interact with him. “I’m already gone."

"Wait! Wait!” He grabbed your free hand. “Slow down, beautiful. Since we already met and are, as I’ve heard, going back to the same place tomorrow, why don’t we dance together? Get to know each other better."

"No, thank you."

"Come on! It will be fun! Don’t you like to slow dance?"

"No, not with you."

"What?!” His grip around your hand got stronger, pulling you even closer to him. “What did you just say?"

"She said she doesn’t want to dance with you!” A strong force pushed you and Valdo apart. Then you felt yourself being pulled into a warm embrace, and someone led you along the corridor to the stairs down to a floor with fewer people and more quietness.

Jaskier then sat in front of you on the floor. “I’m sorry. That mother- He probably came with the wave of uninvited people that suddenly appeared. I still thank Melitele every day that he didn’t go here as well.”

You just shrugged your shoulders, feeling suddenly very sheepish and stupid. And then, when you looked at your hand which was still holding on tightly to the package, you realised that it couldn’t contain food. Great, now you had accidentally stolen something from Jaskier or his roommate.

You sighed and looked up, ready to apologise for your strange behaviour, but you found Jaskier staring at you. “Is there something wrong with my face Jask?"

"What? Oh… no. Of course not. Why would you think that? Because when I said you looked beautiful, it wasn’t just because of your dress. I just can’t stop thinking about how you really need to stop calling me Jask. It’s tearing my heart apart hearing you say it… like that."

Your heart fell. "Like what? What should I call you then?"

He softly took the package out of your hand and began to unfold the paper. "I was planning on doing this differently tomorrow, but our whole friendship’s been a mess from the beginning. Why not embrace it?” He pulled out a key. “How about you call me your roommate, to begin with? After that, I’ve got some more… special names in mind. Stay with me here in Oxenfurt, don’t go back to Cidaris. Please.”

“Why?” It was the only thing you managed to choke out.

“Out of entirely selfish reasons if I am to keep up the ‘being honest’ act tonight. But most importantly, because opposites do attract. At least, I hope the feeling is mutual.”

Thankfully you didn’t need to say that they were, as your voice had completely abandoned you after his confession. You could also simply show him.

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[jerzwriter]

Is there any fic idea you had in the past, that you never got to even start to write but sometimes you think about it? And on the contrary, is there any idea that you wanted to write but then forgot and now you don’t want to write anymore?

YES and YES.

My fellow writer friends know about quite a few of these because I'll send them all the gory details. Then sometimes I write it, sometimes I don't. lol

For example, earlier this year, I was on the beach (in the dead of winter), and this story just came to me. It was filled with the sadness of a love that was dying with only one person trying to fight. There was misunderstandings and confusion that led to horrible choices and heartbreak. Then their loss, longing, growth, and... a second chance, or not. I wrote the complete rough draft that day. I have not written it, and now, I don't think I will. It's just too sad. I'm not sure I want to go there.

I have another one that deals with relationships losing that spark, one person realizing they've (completely unwillingly) fallen in love with someone else, learning that person loves them too. They still love their spouse, and they don't want to act on it, but it is becoming harder and harder. They decide to tell their spouse they've fallen for someone else, but they want to make the marriage work. The spouse doesn't take kindly and isn't sure they want to do the same. It's a very angsty piece that examines all sorts of issues - what is love? What should one expect of a "forever" relationship? Is telling the whole truth always the best approach? How do you live with regret? Can the marriage be saved? But again, I don't think I'm going to do it (sorry @icecoffee90 ). But who knows, I can change my mind. lol

I also had a thought of a series where Ethan was not so altruistic, where he was much more of a lothario who frequently had liaisons with interns/residents. He was with MC, and she believed she was the one, even when others told her he was a player... then one day, one of his past conquests comes to visit Edenbrook, and the realization comes crashing down. (BUT did he really love her? Or was she just another notch on the belt?) I decided not to write it, much to @liaromancewriter and @genevievemd's relief. lol

Some that I think of but just don't think I'll have the time to write... an AU where Kaycee is secretly a single mom and how that impacts her career and relationship with Ethan.

I had an ask for a Kaycee finds out she's pregnant while Ethan is in the Amazon. It's been done, but I'd love to take a spin at it myself.

There was another where T/C is happily married, and he dies unexpectedly. She finds out she's expecting, and an unhappily married Ethan promises his late friend to always be there for her.

I was going to say the last 3 live rent free in my head, but honestly, so do the first and third above. Some days I want to do them, some days I'm like no freaking way.

Damn, that was a long answer lol

[stressy-enby]

Love Letters

Tenya Iida X Writer!Reader

(This is absolutely a self insert leave me alone)

Requests are open!!

Tenya's morning routine was always the same. He was awoken by his alarm at 6:20 A.M. He went to the bathroom and washed his face. Then he'd get dresses, comb his hair, and go downstairs for breakfast. After he'd eaten, he would brush his teeth, and head to class with his peers.

This system was so ordinary, so methodical, that he almost missed the folded sheet of printer paper on the floor in front of the door.

Probably Mr. Aizawa, he'd thought, stooping to collect the note. His teacher occasionally left notes taped to the class rep's door, asking him to take attendance or start class if Aizawa knew he was going to be late. Still nothing out of the ordinary for Tenya.

When he unfolded the paper, though, he was surprised to see not a message from his teacher, but rather a very sweet note; something that Tenya was not accustomed to getting at all.

I hope it does not alarm you to hear that I adore you. Your unbridled passion for heroics, your eyes; which are oceans of kindness, and your aptitude for helping others. Every little bit of you never once ceases to amaze and enamor me. Though you are a vessel for speed, you choose to walk alongside your friends, instead of tearing off into the future. You build me up and make me feel strong, whether you realize it or not. You make me feel like I'm actually worth something. You keep my head up when I feel as though I'm drowning in a sea of my insecurities.

Perhaps one day I'll have the courage to tell you this in person. For now though, this will suffice.

The letter was not signed off, but rather ended with a red pen sketch of a heart. Tenya's eyes nearly doubled in size. He re read the note several more times to make sure he hadn't imagined the loving words. Who could've possibly written it? He wasn't aware of anyone in his class who harbored these kinds of feelings, much less for him, but he had never been particularly good at reading emotions.

Realizing he was going to be late for breakfast if he dwelled any longer on it, Tenya pocketed the love letter and headed downstairs. The mystery would have to wait until after school. His responsibilities always came first, no matter how often his mind still wandered back to the letter in his pocked, yearning to pull it out and read it yet again, just to make sure he still wasn't dreaming.

. . . 

Whoever had written the note was smart, Tenya realized. They had typed it, leaving no room for the possibility that he could recognize the handwriting. The only part that had been done by hand was that little red heart, but a doodle wasn't nearly enough to tell him who the author was.

He turned instead to analyzing the words themselves.They were well chosen, poetic even. The fifty cent words like "unbridled" and "enamored" led him to believe that the author was an experienced writer, or perhaps simply read a lot.

Yaoyorozu was a good contender, she was an eloquent speaker. Kaminari also read a lot, he was good with literature. And there was Tokoyami, who seemed to speak exclusively in poetry. Tenya jotted down his ideas, crafting a short list of his classmates.

"Oh, (L/N) writes a lot," he mused, adding their name to the list. (L/N) actually made a lot of sense.

Oh, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. Perhaps he only read the love letter in (L/N)'s voice being he wanted it to be them.

...or maybe it actually wasn't a bad idea.

(L/N) was always writing. They viewed it as a privilege, a challenge. They leapt at every creative writing assignment they got in English class, and the few stories they had shared were spectacularly inventive and elegantly crafted.

Tenya halted, scanning the message again. It suddenly seemed more and more likely that (L/N) was in fact the author.

He chewed his lip. It was too easy. Too convenient. Too perfect. How could someone he already cared for so deeply send him something like this? It was too good to be true. Besides, it was only one note. How could be possibly-

"What if they write more?" Tenya suddenly said out loud, his train of thought coming to a screeching halt. "I'd have a better line up to analyze. I could also ask Present Mic for the short stories assignments he's grading so I can pass them back. I could probably be able to look over at least a few of them and see if I recognize the writing."

A man on a mission, Tenya resigned himself to waiting until the next day to see if another note appeared, and to ask Present Mic about the stories.

Too anxious and oddly excited, he hardly got any sleep.

. . . 

Sure enough the next morning, there was a new note. Tenya all but flew out of bed and scrambled to unfold it.

I find myself caught in a storm of uncertainty all too often. I'm tossed from wave to wave in an ocean of fear. You are my rock. You hold me fast and secure in this ever-changing and frightening world. You are safe. You are my home.

You are my everything.

Tenya unconsciously read the letter in (L/N)'s voice again. He felt his heart beat harder at the thought of them penning these beautiful words.

"You don't know that it's them," he scolded himself, unwillingly placing the new note on his desk next to the old one. He tore himself away from them to retreat into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

The new message did offer one new clue already, though. It used the same ocean metaphor as the first one. It was a comparison the author seemed to favor. Maybe he could find it in their other works.

He had to get his hands on those short story assignments before he lost his damn mind.

. . . 

Tenya felt slightly uneasy about telling Present Mic he wanted the stories to pass back, even though he was technically telling the truth. He was eventually going to pass them back. When he was done looking through them.

A lie of omission is still a lie, that annoying voice in his head insisted, but he pretended he couldn't hear it, pushing it down. It wouldn't do any harm, he rationalized. And he had to know.

Tenya flipped through the papers, looking for (L/N)'s first. It was a desperate wish that they were the author of the anonymous notes, but it also seemed to make just enough sense to justify thumbing through their assignment.

There. (L/N) always went above the beyond with creative writing, and the five pages of neatly typed text was a testament to that. It was the longest assignment in the stack by two pages.

Wait.... typed?

It was probably a coincidence. After all, (L/N) hadn't been the only student who'd opted to type their story. Tenya was too convinced already that they had sent him those letters for him to entertain the idea that it was simply just a coincidence.

He skimmed the story quickly before class started. He found himself impressed, not for the first time with (L/N)'s abilities as a writer. Each word was carefully selected to craft perfect sentences and immaculate paragraphs full of feeling and vibrant imagery.

He stopped suddenly a page in as the protagonist compared their anguish to a stormy sea, heavy waves tossing them to and fro.

There it is again.

The sentiments from the letters, which Tenya had all but seared into his brain, echoed that of what he was reading now. The vocabulary, the imagery, the deep feelings evoked by each sentence, and even the fact that it was typed.

It had to be them. It had to be (Y/N). It was just too perfect.

. . . 

(Y/N) sat a few seats ahead and to the right of Tenya, so he spent quite a bit of class time staring unabashedly at the back of their head. They were scribbling madly on a sheet of lined paper. Lecture notes? Short story?.... Love letter?

People often say that opposites attract. Tenya was just realizing how true that was as he sat in class, half listening to the lesson, half watching (Y/N). He was all angles and sternness, whereas they were flexible and soft. Perhaps it didn't always show physically on their features, but in their mannerisms, and even in their writing, they were stunning curves, twists and turns. With them, you didn't always know where you were going, but it was an adventure all the same. They were a warm, comforting feeling. They felt like home.

An idea bloomed in Tenya's mind, a delectably wonderful way for him to show (Y/N) that he reciprocated their feelings. Having a difficult time smothering his smile, Tenya fished through his school bag for a sheet of lined paper.

. . .

You frowned thoughtfully at your paper, lips pursed. You tapped your pencil against your dorm room desk as you considered your next words.

This was the hardest, part, but still the most fun. The first draft. You could change whatever wording or dialogue you wanted while you were typing it up, nut you still needed a good base. You still had to carefully choose every word that you wanted to use to move your audience.

Tenya Iida

You grinned giddily just thinking of him. He had given almost no indication these past two days that he'd gotten your letters, but you could tell. His eyes had darted around, scrutinizing everyone they landed on. It had felt a bit like being dissected when his gaze had fallen upon you.

There's no way he knows, you had reasoned, giving him a tight smile in return. He's just trying to sus me out. For all he knows, it could be literally anyone.

You had ridden that wave of shaky confidence in your anonymity, all the way to that moment, where you turned around in your desk chair, intending to grab your phone, only for your eyes to fall upon a folded up piece of paper next to your door.

You felt an anxious lurch in your gut as you shakily picked it up. "If this is Iida telling me to never speak to him again I'm going to cry."

You unfolded the message, fully expected the worst, and praying to whatever god was or wasn't out there that you were wrong and that Iida wasn't completely creeped out and now hated you.

You remind me of the ocean waves you write about so often. You're a crescendo of carefully chosen words, actions, and kind thoughts. You're soft yet strong, never backing down from a fight or a friend in need. Your determination and drive impress me to no ends, and make me want to impress you as well.

You've cast a spell on me for quite some time now, but your hold over me was only strengthened by the heartfelt messages you sent me. I'm beyond happy that you share my feelings.

The letter wasn't signed, but it was written in what was distinctly Iida's penmanship. He had ended his message the same way you had ended yours; with a hand-drawn heart.

"Oh my god," you whispered, paper crinkling as your grip tightened around it. You read it again. Then again. And then again. "Damnit, he's right. I do use the stormy sea metaphor a lot."

Note still clenched in your hand, you sped-walked to Iida's dorm room, heart thundering in your chest. The thought that Iida; sensible, respectful Iida would have feelings for a disaster like you was a little discombobulating to say the least, so you were determined to hear it straight from the horses mouth.

You rapped on his door, foot tapping impatiently. The few seconds it took for Iida to answer dragged on for what felt like an eternity. When he finally did open the door, a pleasantly surprised look crossed his face upon seeing you.

You held up his note. "Hi. Um, so."

Iida chuckled, cheeks reddening. He gestured you in as he stepped back to his desk, where he produced the letters you had sent. "So."

"Y-you're not messing with me, right?" you asked nervously. "'Cause if you are I'm going to kick you."

"Trust me, everything I wrote is 100% true." He smiled earnestly. "And you...?

"I think those letters are the most honest I've ever been about my feelings ever." you admitted, shifting your weight from foot to foot. A wry smile played on the edges of your lips. "I was drafting you another one, but you just had to go and find me out and ruin it."

"You can still give it to me," Iida said hopefully, palming the back of his neck with his hand, flustered.

You laughed a little, your own cheeks warming up. You twisted the hem of your shirt. "Uh, can I hug you?"

"O-of course!"

You wrapped your arms around Iida's torso, resting your head on his chest, listening to the drumming of his heart. He slowly followed suit, snaking his arms around your shoulders. He let out a contented sigh, relaxing into your touch. He was so warm. He was a cozy fire in the dark of winter, a blissful reprise from a cold and harsh world.

You pursed your lips, stifling a snicker. I've gotta write that down.

[clichejoe]

3, 15, 20, 22, and 23 for the writing ask :)

Sweeeeeeet! More questions! I've just answered q3 in another post, but I'll give the others a shot! Thank you for sending these in!! (omfg this one turned out super long Im sorry lol)

15. What do drafting and revision look like for you?

Ooooh good question. Asked at a good time as well, because I feel like my methods have changed a lot recently because of what I've learned writing Candlelight. But let me give it a shot:

So drafting is pretty easy, I have a basic plotting document I saved back in 2017 that kind of helps me outline the beginning, middle and end of a story. I always used to use that religiously - I've planned a lot of stories and fics before using this method, but I've never finished them. Revisions always used to happen as I was writing - I'm a huge perfectionist and I edited as I wrote, which made me lose a lot of enjoyment of the process. I wasn't rereading what I'd done because I liked it, I was tearing through it with a fine-tooth comb, picking it apart until I hated it.

Recently, my plotting has become a lot looser. As I said, Candlelight had a beginning and an end. A general idea. That was it. Everything else kind of just . . . happened as I was writing it, and it's been a lot more fun that way! Revisions have changed too - I barely reread my stuff now (as you can probably tell by all the spelling mistakes in the text lol). I sit down on Monday to start a chapter and try and finish it by Saturday. I have an idea of what I want it to say, but everything else is a bonus and revisions are where I add a few extra words to make it look like what happened was on purpose lol.

20. Where do you begin a WIP? ex: a mood, a scene, a certain character dynamic, etc. Does this differ per project?

Usually with a WIP I have one specific scene in my head. And the mood of this scene for almost every WIP is the same.

It's the lowest point of the story.

Kind of grim, I know, but I love the scene where the protagonist fails, so spectacularly it looks like everything is lost. Usually for me a character dies in this scene as well. It's weird, I know, but I find that this scene works as like a base - from this I can build the character relationships, the high points, the joy of the story. Emotional contrast in stories are my favourite thing (can't have happiness without sadness etc) and it helps me establish where the bottom of that is. I can build it from there. The higher I take it at other parts of the story, the more painful I know this first scene is going to be.

It's also the scene I know (hope, really) hits the reader the hardest - the one they're going to remember. And that emotional response is also an excellent motivator.

22. How much of your own self/experiences do you believe pours into your projects? If this differs per projects, which projects have the most and least of you?

Accidentally? A LOT. I feel like I start every story with a basic idea, a setting, genre. A few characters. But then as I'm writing it and developing it, part of me just sort of leaks in unwillingly. For example, the A Game Called Werewolf horror story I'm working on with a friend has become a reflection on struggling with anxiety and existential dread - a feeling of a lack of control of your own life. Candlelight was meant to be a fun fanfic, but the previous isolation and loneliness of the main character became a key plot point because I, myself, was pretty lonely when I started it (having just left uni and friends etc. Dw I'm chill now).

23. What do you do to engage with your projects which isn't usually writing? ex: playlists, pinterest boards, etc. How much do they play a role in the development of your work?

I usually always make a spotify playlist for anything I'm working on. Pinterest boards as well. They don't really help me develop the work as they more help me get in the right head space before I sit down to write it. Or, if I've not worked on a certain project in a while, they remind me of what I was working towards. The key emotional impacts that I wanted the story to have and why these motivated me to start it in the first place.

[weaselandfriends]

Just finished all of CxC and great fucking work, I just have a couple questions.

I understand that Car is calling Sister an egg in the last bit, but I don't fully understand what Sister's response means. Are they saying that they're not because the point is that their avatar is supposed to be everything they are not?

Really love Papimon, would you ever do more stuff with her? Also if you just want to ramble about her at all please do, she felt too human in her own way to ever survive cxc but i was sad to see her go so soon.

Finally, I know you said you had initial ideas for this wayyy before any of the current events depicted. Is there a version of cxc somewhere where Graham has to explain that Trump is running for office? Or that has similar kinds of stuff

You should be proud of your writing, genuinely. Thank you for doing it.

Thank you so much for the kinds words. Let me try and answer these questions best I can (Spoilers for CxC if anyone else is reading):

1. Sister is refuting group identity in favor of personal identity, similar to Fletch and Mimmy, and also similar to characters like Clownmuffle if you've read Chicago. In particular, Sister is stating that by being so unpleasant, being so prone to distasteful behavior from her slurs to her sockpuppetry to her general thirst for brutality, no group will ever try to co-opt her. Mimmy, for instance, desired to be an "idol" who stood above everyone else, but was constantly being rolled into a broader discussion about LGBTQ+ representation in media, and after her death was, as Gramme notes, no longer Mimmy Wowzers but merely "trans creator" in news articles about her. Fletch, meanwhile, strove to study hard, stay out of trouble, and get a banal but cushy office job (similar to the one Harper has), but because of his skin color was the target of violence no amount of personal autonomy could evade. Sister is retreating from the world altogether to escape being assimilated into any kind of group, while rejecting any kind of concrete label about her gender/sexuality. This struggle between the individual and the group was a big focus of Chicago, and I've returned to it here in the context of CxC's greater interest in how people make meaning for themselves--or have meaning foisted upon them unwillingly.

2. That segues into Papimon, who also ties quite strongly into the theme of individual vs. group I just described. Like many of the supporting characters in CxC, Papimon is displaced from her home country and unable to return, and her story is a prelude or foreshadowing of the political nature the story will develop in the third act.

Papimon was one of the first characters I came up with for CxC, although to give context I'll explain that the initial idea for CxC was a lot different than what it became. Initially, CxC was conceived as a fairly minimalistic romance story, and the only characters were Harper, Gramme, Papimon, and Royce Ru, the last of which being positioned as Gramme's competitor in the will-they-or-won't-they style love plot. Royce would represent the company and an ordinary life, and Gramme would represent art and imagination, and so the romance element would have a corresponding thematic element. This is all pretty basic stuff for romance. Papimon was to be the wrench in the otherwise saccharine equation, and her death would be the turning point in Harper's considerations between Royce and Gramme. For most of CxC's long development, I planned for Papimon's death to occur in the exact midpoint of the story, the location of the climax in classical storytelling (now this position is filled by the Allison Apple roleplay). In fact, in the first draft of CxC, I still had her death in this location, even though the story had begun to trend away from being a traditional romance. As such, I had a lot more time for Papimon to simply exist in the story, and while I think the finalized three-part structure is far superior to my original structural designs, it particularly places a challenge on Papimon's character, as her entire presence is constrained to the first 12 chapters, many of which she is not even in.

Oddly enough, even though Papimon was one of the earliest characters conceived, a lot of what is distinct about her in the final draft was added very spontaneously while I was writing the final draft due to that late-in-the-game structural change necessitating major adjustments to her character. When Papimon tells Harper she made up the California surfer accent moments before she met Harper, that's true for me writing her as well; the earlier draft had no such affectation. Likewise, the first draft of CxC did not have the sex scene between Harper and Papimon, and there was no sexual or gender component to her character at all really; her frustrations were entirely isolated to her need to escape the dreary humdrum lifestyle of Los Alamos. In the earlier draft, she constantly talks about "going to Albuquerque," where there will surely be something to do; in the final Friday, Harper and Papimon attempt to make it to Albuquerque but Papimon's car breaks down and they spend the night instead in a generic side-of-the-road village that implies that Papimon will never be able to escape, setting the stage for her death.

Papimon so far has actually been the character who I've gotten the most feedback that readers don't understand what her deal is, so I'm glad that you really liked her. I think that if you want to understand Papimon, it's good to reread her scenes after having the context of the later two parts of the story; a lot of her character struggle presages those parts and makes more sense when seen through that lens.

3. As one might expect, CxC--a story I first got the idea for in 2014 or 2015--was not always set in 2020. My initial conception for Gramme's ending, even after I moved on from the traditional romance element and gave Gramme more of a story in his own right, was much different. In the earlier drafts, Sister was not in Gramme's mansion (she was a solely online character, like Cariscresco), and instead there was a third roommate. Near the end of the story, this third roommate would be stabbed to death by a homeless person and Gramme would leave the mansion with Fletch and Dogshit to track them down and get revenge, which would ultimately lead to a run-in with the police that ends poorly for everyone involved. As such the story was a lot less temporally focused and there weren't specific references to current events.

In 2013 I wrote a novel about the 1992 Rodney King riots and to write it I did assiduous research, watching hours upon hours of footage from the riots themselves, of the police brutality that sparked the riots, of the cultural context that led to the situation in Koreatown, and so on. Since then the topic has always been of significant interest to me. I realized that setting the story in 2020 and adjusting the ending would not only create a stronger finale but also help emphasize Harper's character via her temporal isolation and create the impression of the real world violently intruding into the world of the story.

[andthebubbles]

fellas im tired and bored, i need coffee... HAHAA

i kinda hate it when f1 testing is on cause all they talk about in the live feed is merc and red bull and ferrari when all i wanna hear about is aston martin... 

(the only driver i kinda like from those 3 aforementioned teams is perez just because we share the exact same birthday so whenever he stands next to seb i feel like i’m standing next to seb 😂😂😂 but yeah kjfdngfkgj no i don’t care about merc or their sidepods or ferrari and whoever lol (sainz??? why kfjgkfg i mean i don’t mind him but dkjfgnkg???) and okay i kinda retain a soft spot for rbr except for christian horner and helmut marko... adrian newey is still cool though... and i miss having no/‘no’ team orders... now they’re fucking everywhere and perez is so nice, i miss mark’s arseholeness (who would’ve ever thought i’d say that lol))

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since i’m sleepyyyyy... am gonna say i’ve kinda hit the pause button on superpowers fic... unwillingly though. i’ve noticed that with those moments in a fic which you thought of months ago, which have been in your head ever since and you were looking forward to writing it... when you actually get there you actually fucking stall? i think it’s because i had preconceived notions of how it’d go, but when you actually get there, so much other stuff has happened that maybe your original idea doesn’t work anymore.

like, in superpowers fic i threw in something new cause i thought it’d be cool (and they were heading in that direction anyway); then... well the scene that’s been in my head for months, it had no beginning lol it was just rami asking something about seb. now the lead up to it will be different anyway, more angsty, less fluffy... but maybe the issue is more that i have this black box before it, before that Moment

a similar thing happened with sebis fic... the ending took me like 5? months to figure out. cause i originally imagined seb would regret doing the Thing, so my first drafts were written like that and then the ending got longer and longer and longer and there was no ending, seb and lewis don’t get together, if they did it’d actually be so fucked up. (it’s a simi fic in disguise lol i just can’t get away from my otp :3) anyway fkjgnfkgn it took me 5 fucking months to realise that seb wouldn’t regret doing what he did, and it’s a so much better ending because he was an arsehole for most of the story (a sympathetic one though!! or maybe i’m just whipped) but you don’t clearly see it till the end and i know it sounds weird to say this but i still fucking love the suckerpunch you get cause imo that’s the first time you realise that he’s really fucked up.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :3 i still have a lot of feels about sebis!seb okay

[mcbex]

go along to get along

Let me be honest...not that I don't always strive for utter candor but there is a face I show to the world. You know the one... I'm sure you have one too. So let me put that away for a moment. I have been down. I haven't wanted to write. Or should I say I've saved about a half dozen drafts of things I want to say but in my state of being I am unable to process it all properly. Angst... I've lost my focus, I can't sleep as the darkness grabs me and sucks me in unwillingly, Or maybe willingly... who can tell.

My timing is slow and calculated this morning as I consider the gravity of the situation. As I think of the flaws in humanity. And consider how confusing the selfishness and terror is that steals at my heart. My instinct is to gather my family, gather all I love and go. Go away from this madness and all the insanity and find the safest place. But then who? Who is left? Who stands up to evil? Who is the one or 1000 or 1 million that will fight for the freedom of all of our lives? Am I carrying myself like a believer as I fight my feelings to flee?

This morning I prayed. Not unlike every morning, noon or evening. Never ceasing in my prayers really as they've become a rolling dialogue at this point. Sometimes they are sighs, others I can barely speak a word, just groans where I am unable to put into words these emotions. But today... today was different. Today I drove alone with the radio off and the windows up and my prayers shouting from my lungs like oxygen. For an hour I drove like this, praying and singing and hoping I was heard. Asking for grace. Hoping for signs. But the craziness of the whole matter is that I know I was heard.

Entering church I'm greeted with happy faces and hugs. Sitting I find joy in the man next to me shouting AMEN, AMEN! People with their hands raised high in pure faith and most importantly, most directly the word spoke to my soul.

I hope at least once if your life you know the feeling of having God work up a service that feels so specially made for you. Crazy that the Pastor would use whole word phrases and descriptions as if he had listened in on my private words... Impossible? Maybe. Or maybe it is an answer to a prayer that I haven't found the courage to say yet.

I simply ask for the answers, how Jesus would handle this. I want to take my emotions out and just do what is right. But how can I? The news shouts at us an ever changing story...and what is to be believed? Few know and even less can make heads or tails of the unbelievable. The jaw dropping news that lands again and again like heavy weight fighter destroying his opponent. As wave after wave comes in over the monitor. I can scarce to look away from the twilight. However today... today I know the reply. It is not to flee. It is not to fight. It is to stay and hold accountable those who are to be held in such a manner. I will not go along to get alone. I will reach for what is right. Never ceasing because I cannot live with any less. Although the question still remains... do I really have the courage?

1Corinthinans 4 2-5 Now it is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful. I care very little if I am judged by you or by any human court; indeed, I do not even judge myself. My conscience is clear, but that does not make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me. Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of the heart. At that time each will receive their praise from God.

[phantomchick]

List of wips - aka struggles

Call Me A Jason Todd fic I started two years ago and still go back to poke at longingly, will the second and final chapter ever be posted? Who can know for sure.

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I tell myself that I don't need Anyone (But the truth is no one needs Me) Another Jason Todd fic I haven't completed, posted two years ago for whumptober, it was the only day of whumptober I participated in, intended to be full of Captain Atom and Jason Todd interacting during the fall out of Bludhaven getting chemo'd but he doesn't show up in the first chapter and have you ever tried to read Infinite Crisis? It's a fucking mess. With this wip I have a close to justifiable excuse in that I refuse to write without knowing the canon, and reading through all the canon that's relevant is A Task.

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The Monster in The Man A Merlin fic floating around my drafts, currently at a good bit over 5k wherein Merlin gets POSSESSED by an old enchantment gone mad. Written because a Merlin fic I read ended on a horror style cliffhanger and I couldn't handle it so I charged my way through the first 2k of a sequel and I've been adding to it ever since. Angst with a hopefully happy ending, if I ever frikking finish it.

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The Dragon Lord In the aftermath of his father's death after Merlin inherits his father's dragon lord abilities he notices some minor changes to his interactions with his friends, the thing is that Merlin is a dragon lord and unusually what he hoards is people, things might just turn out the better for it.

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Maelstrom A Naruto time travel fix it fic that wouldn't leave me alone until I got the first chapter out, ironically it has left me entirely alone since I finished the first chapter and I have no idea if inspiration for it will ever return or when that will be.

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You Don't Know Anything Long long ago in a land of asks and a time of legend @paradise-runway sent me a fic request for "one where the other Bat boys find out the circumstances of Jason's death and resurrection and their reaction?" it has been lingering in my drafts haunting me ever since, someday, someday I shall fulfill what has been promised.

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Of Curses and Covenants A longfic exploring the magical underbelly of Gotham's history, focuses on the intertwined relationship of the Wayne Family and the Zatara Family brought about by how often Waynes through the generations have ended up being cursed. I have an index of all the curses ready, the problem with this one is the plot and the story.

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Vicki Finds a Bat (temporary title) Vicki Vale stumbles upon a still alive young adult Jason Todd at a wafflehouse on the way back from snooping into Cobblepot's latest criminal schemes. Convincing the young man to go back home to his loving father might prove more of a challenge than she thinks however. (will have a happy ending if I ever fucking finish it, for now it looms in my drafts like an unhappy gargoyle)

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Hug Deficit A fic about Jason being touch starved and his family fixing it, hurt/comfort all the way, post resurrection.

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Stephanie Brown and The Mansion of Man Pain Robin Era Steph, she and Alfred have pumpkin spice lattes together, it's their thing because I say it is. Includes, Alfred raised 5 boys counting Bruce, he's not sure how to handle a little girl and Bruce trying to dad plus Steph trying her best. Would be a lot easier to write if I was any good at comedy.

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Another Time, Another Place Some twenty years or so after their death, Martha and Thomas Wayne appear in the middle of Wayne Manor's ground floor parlour room, the major problem with this? Not only are Bruce and Dick away, Alfred's on holiday in England! Which is why Jason as the eldest has been unwillingly nominated by his younger siblings to deal with the situation at hand. Martha and Thomas in this are heavily inspired by @unpretty's amazing portrayals in her fics with them.

- Queen Blackfire and the Lazarus Lord An au with Soulmate identifying marks: Jason Todd was having an okay time as de-facto leader of The Outlaws, a band of misfits and rebels with hearts of gold (or at least silver) saving the world the best they could and filling in the gaps the more straightforward heroes tended to miss while they were at it. Then he found out he was soulmates with the Alien Warrior Queen bent on declaring war on planet Earth if the Justice League didn't find her soulmate for her. Things with his friend, team mate and potential future sister in law Kori just got super awkward and the only good thing he can find about this situation is how angry (and protective? But maybe he's just imagining that) Bruce seems over the whole thing.

Side note: Kommand'r freaked out during the years Jason was 'dead' and accidentally brought peace to a huge chunk of space and intergalactic society via building up her empire after throwing herself into work to escape the grief.

- To Grasp The Hand of a Fox Naruto and Kurama travel back in time to save the world but unfortunately they land in the same moment that Kurama's just been put under a genjutsu by Madara Uchiha, Naruto has to make his way to Konoha and wake Kurama up before the villagers seal him away inside Mito. Can he save his friend in time to save them all?

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Those Winter Sundays Mcu fic. Snapshots of Tony working hard for the avengers and no one noticing. Civil War Team Iron Man.

- Salvation Rides a Solar Wind Iron Man fic in a Science fiction / Western style fic where Tony's presence is described through the eyes of the aliens he helps. Au where the war with Thanos goes very differently. The type of fic that needs like 5 multi chapter fics in a single series to truly shine, hence why I will likely never finish it.

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And We Break Away Again Jason goes back to Talia after Damian is brought back from the dead by Bruce. It's not that he begrudges his little brother his resurrection, the opposite, but he can't ignore what Bruce did to him by taking him to the magdala valley and he can't ignore what Bruce doing for Damian what he didn't do for him, (do for Dick, do for any of them besides the blood related one) means. So he decides to go back to the only person who ever seemed to understand why he wanted to avenge himself in the first place, the only person who seemed to agree that he had a right to be angry that he'd died at all, the only person he can trust to hold him together while he feels like he's falling apart that won't judge him against the heroic mold while they're at it. Not sure if this will be a oneshot or a series but we're going good Talia with this one regardless, DC's been ruining her lately but through fanfic all things are possible so fuck them.

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Fan The Flames In the aftermath of a magical fire taking hold of the Daily Planet in Metropolis, Superman is missing, can Batman and the rest of the Justice League find their friend as well as the identity of the evil arsonist before Lex Luther does it first?

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In a Whisper (In a Wish) Ichigo Kurosaki protects people, it's not just who he is, it's what he is, down to the core of his very soul. The only problem is, that a few weeks ago he sacrificed half his soul to protect the world. It aches inside where he knows something important used to be. When everyone he cares for is avoiding him and he's starting to feel more like a shadow than a person, that aches at him too and he can't help but wish, quietly, privately, painfully, to himself if no one else that things were different, that he wasn't so broken or so alone. But if wishes were fishes they'd fill a whole sea (just be careful not to whisper them within the hearing range of the Hōgyoku).

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An Honest Conversation (Is A Bitter Thing To Crave) Jason kidnaps Bruce but things don't go as Bruce expects. First of all the reason Jason was able to kidnap him was because Stephanie of all people was his insider, why would she support someone Batman knows she's only met once. And second of all the reason he's been abducted - So that Jason can drug them both with the same substance. And when Bruce asks what he's doing this for Jason only responds, "We don't trust each other enough to have a truthful conversation otherwise" and refuses to say anything more while they wait for it to kick in. What will be revealed by this forced honest encounter on both sides? -

carrying the world on thin shoulders Midoriya Izuku deserves better from literally all the adults in his life so this is part whump part hurt comfort part fix it fic that sprawls out from time to time but it's pretty bad tbh, at some point I'll probably make it neater and give it something resembling a coherent plot. Hopefully. -

Trust Issues HP fic. Harry gets dosed with a potion that's supposed to reinforce your strongest survival instinct, the person who drugged him might've intended to be helpful but said potion happened to be at extra strength and he was given what would be a normal fix for the regular version but for this one is twice the recommended amount. Great.. The biggest problem about all this - beyond his internationally wanted godfather Sirius endangering himself by hiding out in a cave near Hogsmeade against all rational advice, his best friend Ron hating him, everyone in school besides his other best friend Hermione also hating him or avoiding him and the entire Goblet of Fire problem - is that he can't bring himself to trust anyone enough to tell them what's wrong.

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Truth is Treason in the Empire of Lies A post marvel avengers story, thor pov probably, made because I like to dive into a pool of thor & loki sibling feels sometimes: Starts off as Thor regales his new human shield brothers with the story of his banishment and return to Asgard ending with Loki falling into the Void and the Avengers have some questions, questions Thor had not thought of, remarks on things that Thor doesn’t know how to explain away.  After he goes to Loki’s cell and asks him some things he becomes more and more angry despite having no one he can punch > Gets drunk and criticises Sif and The Warriors Three after they try to calm him down > mention of Loki still being underage by Aesir standards during Thor 1 seeing as Thor was being crowned due to being of age in the movie > heavy inspiration drawn from queen regnant by peaceheather. “For while the Treason I detest, the Traitor I love still.” Currently just an outline.

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Separation Split personality disorder Red Hood and Jason Todd, alternatively, Red Hood is a demon/parasite latched on to Jay. A lot of work necessary considering right now it’s currently just an idea inspired by a cool tumblr fanart.

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A Trinity of Head Wounds The dcu trinity in the aftermath of a fight against some alien invaders (or something along those lines), whump, hurt/comfort, starts with them arguing, ends with them bleeding on each other in a friendship way, whole thing should take place in a single room on the watchtower and be a oneshot so it's gotta be a short and sweet one-two gut punch with the feelings which is difficuuult.

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A Stark in The Stars an mcu fic, a really over complicated mcu fic, mostly because of Steve Roger's timeline fuckery, Tony's alive but he's not supposed to be, but so are a lot of people who were dead but aren't now you might say what with the snap and the blip. The thing is that Steve's timeline fuckery is making it so that everyone keeps getting confused between the two different timelines of events, obviously more confused the more that their characters were connected to the films/the events that were altered, the punchline of this particular fic though is that Tony's still alive and he's unaware of the timeline of events where he died. And as he's currently in space he's also unaware that everyone on Earth thinks he's dead (because why wouldn't they? he died in endgame after all). That makes this fic super tough to write because like ultimate unreliable narrator right here and not sure how to tie in the whole 'oh wait actually everyone on Earth thinks I'm dead because of the canon timelines' thing in or at what point of the story to do that at. The fuckery of it all gives me a headache. Plot is hard. Also all of that's basically background to the actual focus of most of the fic thus far which is Tony travelling around space in an Iron Man suit up until the point where it won't be background.

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Magic Chained Merlin au. When you put magic restraining cuffs on Magic himself you don't just bind him you bind all magic the world over. It is therefore, infinitely lucky that Uther Pendragon never became aware of this fact.

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A Child in The Cold bnha Midoriya deserves better also Recovery Girl and Aizawa have shit to answer for as far as I'm concerned.

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[concealeddarkness13]

Happy STS from your moral support dragon. Give me the ramble about your story. Make it as memorable as possible. I have a really hard time remembering things so I’m trying to get wips straight. Have a wonderful day.

Thank you so much! This is a wonderful question! I love it! And I might do this for more than one story. :)

Concealed Darkness: Okay. So, this is my baby. This was the first story that I actually completed, and I have stuck with this story for about seven years. It’s on its third draft, where I changed the story and characters to actually be better and not so cliched. It’s still a pretty cliched story, but I love it. It centers around these three friends: Cassian, Tamra, and Luneth. This mysterious empire attacks their city, and in the chaos, they learn that Luneth is a Tenebrus, which is a species that has darkness magic that humans fear and hate. But Cassian and Tamra care about their friend so much, that they don’t really care. After the attack is over, Cassian, Tamra, and Luneth are sent to investigate the empire, but, of course, things don’t go according to plan. The empire decides to label all three of them as special, and Cassian proves it by having light magic, Tamra proves it by having a Hikari (a glorified elf pretty much) as a mother, and Luneth proves it by having light magic and darkness magic. And Luneth has to deal with a ghost from his past who has returned: Cress, a very sarcastic, calculating, lying dude who is also a Tenebrus. He’s part of Imperium, which is fighting against the empire, but their leader is sketchy, and that also extends to other members Cassian, Tamra, and Luneth meet. They seem to have their own motives that extend beyond defeating the empire. In the end, is the empire really the biggest threat?

Now for the two stories I’m writing for Nanowrimo:

Isolation Story: Starts innocent enough, with a group of isolationist humans who have no contact with the outside universe. The planet they live on is actively trying to kill anyone who wanders too far away from the settlement, but that doesn’t stop Nyr. She dreams of exploring the whole planet, and that makes her the odd one in her class. Yeah, she’s learning to fight so she can be chosen to pilot one of the huge humanoid mechs right from an anime. Because being an isolationist group doesn’t stop other groups from trying to conquer you. These mechs are special because two people are required to pilot them, those people have to share a mental link, and only people from the original isolationist humans can use them. Nyr gets chosen, but she’s paired with the most popular guy in the class: Liam. He’s all smiles and cheerfulness, and she believes it’s all an act. But that’s not the case. He actually used to have a dream. He wanted to explore space! Another big no-no for isolationist humans. He was discouraged from following his dream, so he doesn’t actually have any dreams. Because of that, he makes sure to actively encourage everyone else in their dreams, and that will extend to Nyr once she opens up to him. And...they might even fall in love?! After they finally get over their differences, another group attacks the isolationist humans, and when they fight them into a stalemate, the isolationist humans notice who they are fighting against. Other humans! These people call themselves the Gallants, and they want to conquer the universe as vengeance against their own planet getting destroyed with millions of humans still on it. They offer the isolationist humans a choice: join them peacefully, or they will force them to join the Gallants. Such a great choice! In order to stall for time, the isolationist humans send Nyr and Liam up as ambassadors and spies. Nyr and LIam will learn secrets about the Gallants, and figure out that the Gallants aren’t really the ones they should be fearing.

Metalblood: Kai is an ordinary thief who wants to see the world. Because she wants to find her family. She lost her memory from before she was sixteen, and she doesn’t remember her family at all. Which sucks in a world where humans value their families above everything else. Oh, and she also has a machine in her brain that points out machines to her and helps her figure out what they do and what she can use to make any machine she wants to make. Which is weird because no human has ever figured out how to make a machine work with the human body. And she has no idea how she got her machine. All she really cares about is finding her family. She doesn’t want to learn the answers about her past and the machine, but she’s going to get them anyway. For some reason, she thinks finding her family is somehow linked to learning more about the supposed apocalypse that happened hundreds of years ago. But of course, no one knows what happened, and anything that has information about it is in a language no one understands. With the help of her friend, Taeo; Lia, a noble who hires Kai to steal something for her; Xanth, a mysterious noble that Kai feels a connection to; and some others who I don’t know yet, Kai will unwillingly learn more about her past, and she will get a found family who will help her find her real family. Oh, and there’s a group of weird jellyfish aliens who are after Kai, and a group of four soldiers (Zathias, Rea, Charli, and Crius) and their shadowy alien friend (Cirrus) are investigating the jellyfish aliens and the humans on this planet. They’ll cross paths with Kai pretty often. And these soldiers help connect Metalblood to the Isolation Story.

Thank you so much again! Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @nightskywriter, and @merigreenleaf!

What about your stories? 

[aurorawest]

#1, 3 and 12? 😊

Whoops this has been sitting in my drafts for several days now!

1. favorite fic you wrote this year

I’m going to say Will you be my festar-man? Love and courtship in the New Asgardian court (or, How Loki Stopped Worrying and Proposed to Stephen Strange), partly because I just posted the final chapter today (SOB) and it’s just a fun, happy, (mostly) light-hearted romance fic.

On the other end of the spectrum is A Full and Factual Account of Asgard, which I just finished and am editing. It will be awhile before I post any of it on AO3 though.

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

Hmmm. Man. I’ve written so much this year. There are a bunch of scenes I really like in A Full and Factual Account of Asgard—one of my favorites is a scene where Loki takes his Jotun form (accidentally) in front of Strange. I feel like I often see this trope in romantic contexts, so I wanted to do something a bit different with it and have occur before Loki and Stephen are romantically involved.

But Strange was neither his father nor his brother. Strange was something else, someone whom Loki had never understood how to define his relationship to. But whatever it was, he didn’t seem the sort of person who should be privy to this most private of Loki’s secrets. That said, I still made Stephen flirt with Loki a little, ha.

Unwillingly, he flicked his gaze back up to meet Strange’s, whose silence had stretched to something beyond polite, to a length of time that Loki was sure meant he was trying to think of how to extricate himself from this conversation. “Are they?” Loki repeated, a nascent sneer in his voice.

Strange hesitated. But then he nodded and said, “They’re going back now, though. I don’t know, Odinson.” With a flicker of a smile, he said, “Just as pretty as those baby blues of yours, if you ask me.”

Heat rose to Loki’s face once again. That was too many times in the past fifteen minutes. Whatever he’d expected the man to say, it certainly wasn’t this. His mouth opened soundlessly a few times as he struggled for the appropriate words. Finally, he settled on, “Shut up, Strange.”

12. favorite character to write about this year

Is it too obvious if I say Loki? Loki is like my comfort character at this point, haha. I think I probably, in some ways, have more fun writing Strange? I love writing his snarkiness and assholery. But 95% of what I write is from Loki’s POV, so I guess he really is kind of the answer by default.

Thank you!!

From fanfic end of the year asks

[satan-chillin]

“Why?”

The word escaped Sam before he could hold himself back.

“Why what, Sam? You’ll have to be more specific,” Chuck said, a picture of full composure with his leaned back as if Sam wasn’t pointing the Equalizer right at his face.

Presently weakened or not, he looked amused more than anything. It wasn’t often that a human would raise arms against the God, after all, and Sam wondered whether Chuck had written this part too, where it was just the two of them and who would move first would be the victor.

It was a ridiculous setup that Sam found himself in and something he should have ended right there and then. He caught Chuck unaware at his weakest state that God could barely stand still.

And yet Sam wanted to know. He has to know, at least before he could finally put a bullet in Chuck and end this once and for all.

Including himself.

“I want to know why me and Dean. I want to know why it’s our lives that you subjected to your will. Explain to me, Chuck. What exactly did we do to you that you picked us out among the rest and decided that you’d play with our fate?”

“Why, you think there’s something about you two brothers that I particularly hate?” Chuck shrugged. “I mean, it was like a raffle draw, and I just happened to get your names. And so what? I made you and your brother just as I made the rest of everything else, Sam. As your creator, I have every right to interfere with your lives.”

“No. That doesn’t give you the right to make us your playthings, Chuck. You created us, but your control should have ended the moment you breathe us life.”

God gave a derisive laugh at Sam’s seething statement, and Sam had never hated another being like this.

“My poor child. You don’t understand what I told you. When I said that I made all of you, I meant every fiber from the smallest cell to the very last thought you’ll form. You can claim free will and Darwinism, but the fact remains that I made every part of your being.” Chuck gave Sam a look that was an ugly mix of faux pity and mirth. “Do you seriously think I’ll let you stand there, asking a ridiculous question, if I don’t want you to?

“Look at yourself, Sam. Do you think you’ll be the person you are now if I didn’t write you that way? I’m the one who set your defaults. I created you as a naturally curious boy; someone with an immense passion for learning; someone who believed the good in people no matter what; someone who believed in second chances. Sure, your trials and experiences shape you to a man that you are, but who do you think created those too? I made situations for everyone where they can grow to their better selves, and neither you nor your brother is an exception to that. Maybe I simply liked the outcome of yours and your brother’s compared to others.

“And you know what? This isn’t even the storyline I planned for you. You’re supposed to be basking in the victory high at this very moment after clearing a vampire nest—I sort of forgot; what I mean is the usual for the Winchester brothers—and I guess you would have been in time for a lovely dinner with your family and your supposed girlfriend, maybe.”

Sam exhaled sharply. “Shut up.”

“Not curious about what I had in store for you? People usually are when it comes to what-ifs,” Chuck said. “Let’s see—right, girlfriend! Boy, you’ve been unlucky with that, aren’t you? Now don’t look at me like that. It did make you an interesting character, Sam. The tall and handsome brooding man who rarely gets attached, and whenever he does, he ends up cursing them to their deaths one way or another.”

“I said shut up, Chuck.”

Chuck ignored him, smiling. “But the last one, that hit you the most. Not because she asked you to and you did it unwillingly. It was because of what was there between the two of you. I was a fan of your developing relationship with her, I admit. You knew she was one of my guilty pleasures too, so imagine my pride to see her grew into someone redeemable yet remain strong and steadfast. She grew softer and had a new perspective in her long life because of you, but it didn’t make her any less clever nor dulled her sharp tongue.

“What you had with her, it wasn’t romance. Not yet, anyway, but the two of you were on the right track. After all the once bad blood, reluctant alliance, the shared trauma, the mutual understanding, the tentative friendship, the developed admiration for each other, the reliance for each other that you formed… And she was what you’ve been looking for, haven’t you, Sam? ‘Someone who understands the life and accepts it as it is’ if I remember your words correctly. She was never like those women you’ve been with—and, well, I’ll honestly say I wrote all your former girlfriends pretty but lacking in substantial characterizations—and you weren’t like those men she met before in the back story I had for her. With the right build-up and all that time and effort spent on the character, Rowena became the most suitable life partner for Sam Winchester.”

“No.” Sam shook his head defiantly. “You don’t get to say her name, Chuck, because you might as well be the one who killed her by putting us—her—in that situation!”

“True,” Chuck agreed nonchalantly. “But, hey, I’m not the one who stabbed her in the end, am I?”

“You think I don’t know that? I do, and every night my mind won’t let me forget that. It won’t let me forget that I killed her, that her blood stained my hands and she was proud of me for it!”

Sam’s unfaltering aim wavered, and for a moment he thought his finger would click the gun on its own; it didn’t despite his blurring vision and the shuddering breath that he took.

“No, you don’t know anything, Sam,” Chuck replied testily, the smile wiped from his face in an instant. “You didn’t know how it was supposed to end with you and your brother or with you and Rowena. She held you in her heart dearly, and she would have loved you, maybe not the same way those sweet ladies you’ve had did, but fiercer and not any less. It would have been far from an easy and flawless relationship, but it would have been perfect for you, Sam.”

Sam’s vision blurred, and he felt the steady trickle running down his cheeks. He hated Chuck, but more than anything he hated that the words coming out of Chuck’s mouth were right.

“You would have got it, Sam, the life you like, with your brother, with Rowena—heck, with your very own children even. The whole nine yards of the picturesque life Sam Winchester has envisioned for his own, and you would have all of that until you decided to get smart with me, go off-script, and shot me! You dare? You dare hurt your God?! Me? I created you, Sam! I created you, and I can destroy you too!”

Sam hastily rubbed his eyes and breathed in and out. And he waited, as stupid as it might be. He waited for it to come, Chuck’s promise.

Except it didn’t, and Sam knew right there and then who won.

“You’re wrong, Chuck,” Sam said softly. “You don’t want to be bored, and you’ll surely be once you cut the strings you’re using to control us. It’ll never end with you, and there will never be peace for us. Certainly not the way I envisioned it, not even the one you drafted for us.”

Sam felt the shot before he could hear it, falling on his back opposite of Chuck’s prone form that met the ground with a meaty thud. Sam was lying there, unmoving and bleeding profusely from his chest.

Ironically, as much as there was immense pain, there was a sense of clarity.

A sort of tranquility.

It was done, and finally, finally, Sam knew he could rest.

fin