I was tagged by @dracothelizard for my favorite fics I've written!
Tagging @dragonmuse, @thetardigrape, @jupitermelichios, @gement and anyone else who would like to play.
My absolute favorite fic I've ever written, gives me an extra big squee every time someone kudos or comments on it, is Soaked to the Skin, the novel-length fic I wrote on what might happen after Season 1 of Our Flag Means Death (if it were a slightly less muppety show).
My decision to wait until I'd finished that fic to post instead of doing it as I went along is in my top ten life regrets, because it would likely have gotten a lot more attention if I'd started posting it three months earlier than I did! But such is life.
Two honorable mentions go to my favorite short fics (SttS, along with being my favorite, is the longest thing I've ever written by an order of magnitude). Gently in the Night is an exploration of grief, as well as my closest attempt in fic to write a character with my exact sexual identity (aegosexual), while Light as the Breeze is one of the most lyrical pieces I've ever written, being a love letter to one of my favorite movie couples as well as one of my favorite movies (The Matrix: Resurrections). Both are under 4K (very rare for me) and I wrote both in less than one full day. They were both ones were I felt like the fic was just pouring out of me; like I was serving as a channel for the words more than I actually writing it. It's a really cool feeling, and I still love going back and rereading those fics.
And then, last shout-out, I have a special love for If You Want to Take Me for a Ride, which is the only time I've every originated a new ship on AO3 (Jim Jimenez/Elizabeth Swann).
Thank you for tagging me!
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And one more self-plug.
I KILLED SAURON
Summary: Halbrand makes a difficult decision.
Excerpt:
Her words are a salve for his aching heart.
“Whatever it was he did to you, and whatever it was you did... Be free of it.”
“I never believed I could be…,” he breathes out, almost afraid to say it aloud. “Until today. Fighting at your side, I... I felt... If I could just hold on to that feeling, keep it with me always, bind it to my very being, then I...“
“I felt it, too.”
He gasps, and finally dares to look into her eyes, blue as the sea and just as beautiful; a mirror showing a reflection of who she wants him to be. Who he wants to be, too.
He feels a desperate need to hold this fragile moment in a trembling hand and make it last forever, but the spell is ruthlessly crushed by one of Númenor’s soldiers.
“Lord Halbrand. The Queen Regent wishes to see you.”
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Mentioned briefly in my last post, but I do in fact have holographic worm stickers for sale now.
There’s far more to the world of Annelida than the humble nightcrawlers you find in your yard; many species are found in marine environments, where they take such varied forms as the fearsome bobbit worm or the ethereal tomopteris. Here I’ve rendered a ragworm (family Nerididae); a sort of polychaete (bristle worm) found in benthic marine (and occasionally freshwater) environments the world over.
Some cool facts to win you over:
1. The largest ragworm in the world is the king ragworm (Alitta virens), which ready achieves lengths of 4 ft/120 cm.
2. Ragworms are an important part of the live sea-bait industry. Unfortunately that also means they have been harvested so extensively in some areas that their populations are threatened.
3. Ragworms reproduce through a bizarre process called epitoky, in which the benthic worm either transforms into a free-swimming reproductive morph, or buds off several free swimming sex-clones to party in the world above. Either way, it will be the final act of the animal’s life.
4. Ragworms, like bobbit worms, have large, eversible mandibles in their pharynx that they extrude to give a nasty bite.
5. On the topic of ragworm jaws, the material they are made of is very strong and lightweight, despite lacking the calcium mineralization of most other animals with hard body structures. There is some research investigating its structure for aerospace engineering applications!
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Excerpt from Beyond God and Evil (Aizen Sōsuke/Female Reader)
Continuation of An Eternity of Mind Games with You
Canon-divergence set months after TBYW. Reader is the new Soul King, so is Aizen if you squint hard enough. Your name is "Hana" for plot-purposes.
Tags: Romantic comedy, fluff and angst, enemies to old married couple, banter as love language, mutual pining, immortality, so good luck with the slow burn, Aizen is a menace but your menace <3
THAT NIGHT, in the Greater Soul King Palace, Aizen can be seen looking for you as you were not in your shared office nor in your personal quarters. He eventually finds you in the tearoom, reading a scroll while leisurely sitting on the tatami mat, near the window.
He stops himself from speaking, simply staring at you from a short distance away. You are already dressed in your usual nightwear — a white yukata so plain that it does not seem to befit a woman of your status. Nonetheless, with the gentle moonlight shining down upon your form and accentuating your regal yet serene features, the soothing breeze swaying your long, ivory strands in languid waves, the sight is incontestably ethereal — the image akin to a goddess in a painting.
Except that you are actually one. In every sense of the word.
After minutes of engrossed reading, you rise to return to the table when you finally notice Aizen standing in the doorway. He saunters towards you and stops in front of the low table, his eyes — that were previously appreciative — instantly narrowing in disdain upon sighting the poorly-written characters on the scattered papers.
“Can you, for the hundredth time, get off my case?” you groan while taking a seat.
He makes no retort and merely picks up your calligraphy brush and a blank paper, demonstrating how to write characters properly before handing the brush back to you.
“Like this. Do it again,” he commands, sounding like a stern teacher dealing with a wayward student. You repeat his strokes but the result is nowhere near satisfactory. You glance at him gingerly.
Although the displeased frown is ever-present on his face, he surprisingly does not insult you and simply sits beside you.
“Again.”
This time, he carefully guides your hand, pressing against your knuckles and fingers as he adjusts your grip. It is arguably an intimate gesture yet both of you pay it no mind, your entire focus on your calligraphy.
Strange enough, when he moves your hand along with his, you are able to write beautiful characters. But when left alone, your penmanship is almost comparable to that of a toddler. Hence, it is probably no exaggeration to claim that your innate inability to write legibly remains to be one of the greatest mysteries in the Three Realms.
Aizen observes your crestfallen expression. A mischievous idea suddenly crosses his mind, causing a smirk to spread across his face.
“Shall we make this more interesting? Every time you fail to write correctly, you will have to do one thing I want.”
You regard him with an look that screams you find his suggestion idiotic. “You must be out of your mind if you think I will ever agree to that.”
He leans closer to you, his grin widening in taunt. “Why? Do you have zero confidence in your own writing skills?”
“Your obvious provocation won't work on me.”
Aizen simply stares at you for a moment before leaning back with feigned nonchalance. “Shame. And here I was thinking of treating you to your favorite restaurant for the next decade should you win.”
Your ears instantly perk up at his offer. “Really?”
He barely stops himself from laughing derisively at your piqued interest. The way you fell for such an obvious bait, like a child who has been promised a treat, was downright pitiful.
“Do you accept the challe—?”
“Wait a minute,” you interject with a hand raised. “But your money technically comes from the Soul King Palace.”
“Which is my palace,” he argues with arms crossed over his chest. “Your point is?”
“It actually belongs to me but since I’m feeling particularly generous right now, I will share it with you,” you start rambling to buy yourself more time to consider his offer. “Anyway, your money is my money. Even if you say that you’ll treat me—”
“Hana. Do you want the unagi or not?”
Your mouth instantly shuts at his question and the way he called your name, sternly but also in a familiar manner. After a long moment of silent contemplation, you surrender with a sigh.
“Fine, but make it a millennium.”
He raises an eyebrow at your bold haggling. “Five decades.”
“Millennium.”
“A century.”
“A millennium, Aizen,” you declare with finality. “I refuse to play your game unless you agree.”
“Alright,” he relents. “I’ll treat you for the next one thousand years if you win.”
However, unbeknownst to you, the game is but a scheme, as per usual, to make you spend more time with him in the next decade — which you unknowingly extended to a millennium. Aizen smiles to himself, beyond pleased to witness you digging your own grave.
“Then, let the challenge begin.”
After handing you the brush and paper, he gives you the first character to write. You have never been so focused in your life as you are determined to win at all costs. However—
“Huh?” you mutter in disbelief as you stare at your own disastrous handwriting.
Aizen smirks, having seen your failure coming from a mile away. He already has an order in mind but feigns uncertainty to prolong your agony. His index finger drums the table, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm, shame. What should I make you do now?”
You watch him with narrowed eyes, already well-acquainted with his antics. “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”
“How about this?” he deliberately pauses for dramatic effect. “I want you to say ‘All hail Lord Aizen, the new Soul King of the Three Realms’ ten times.”
A deafening silence falls upon the room as you meet his taunting gaze with a bemused expression. When he shows no indication of changing his command, you unwillingly surrender but not without a catch.
“All hail Lord Aizen, the self-proclaimed new Soul King of the Three Realms,” you deadpan.
Obviously, Aizen is far from impressed. “If you refuse to adhere to the terms, you will not get that unagi even if you win.”
With your beloved meal held hostage, you grit your teeth in annoyance and reluctantly heed his order. The grimace on your face worsens as you watch his shit-eating grin widen with every repetition you make, his head nodding with purposeful slowness to further grate your nerves.
Once you’re finished, he praises you with a sarcastic applause. “Well done, Hana. I never knew you appreciated me that much.”
You hiss under your breath and impatiently pick up the brush, glaring down at the empty paper, determined to win the next challenge. However—
As Aizen has predicted, you still fail at your second attempt. And miserably at that.
Slamming your hands down onto the table, you stare at the paper with profound disbelief, eyeing the barely decipherable scribbles as if wanting to wipe them from existence. How is it even possible to be that bad at something that was supposedly easy to do?
At the realization that you lost to him again, you look down, refusing to meet his gaze due to humiliation.
Aizen only sighs before shaking his head in mock disappointment. “I’m starting to think that you’re losing on purpose so I can get to order you around.”
“Please shut your mouth and just get on with it,” you beseech almost pathetically.
Thus, without further ado, he declares:
“You have to sit in my lap for the rest of your calligraphy practice.”
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