The Lark Ascending (A Chaconne Story): Chapter 2 (Agatha Harkness x Reader)
Summary: Ahead of your first rehearsal with the Los Angeles Symphony, you become reacquainted with Maestra Agatha Harkness.
Word Count: 4.6K
A/N: Helllooo, welcome to chapter 2 of The Lark Ascending! This chapter features a very, very special piece that I strongly recommend giving a listen, I'll link an earlier post with the video. I'm going to try to do updates around every 2-3 weeks but it will sadly depend on my schedule. I'd also like to give a special shoutout to 🫂 anon, who told me of an idea they had of Agatha using her baton to secure her hair back. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the inspiration, I hope I did your idea justice. As always I hope you enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think :) (Also, if anyone would be interested in joining my tag list feel free to let me know, xoxo) (p.s. there wasn’t any explicit smut in Chaconne, but just forewarning I do have a handful of scenes planned in later chapters that I kind of tease briefly in this one :) )
Danzón No. 2
Previous Chapter
The head of marketing for the orchestra, Pepper Potts, motioned to the promotional materials laid out in front of you. “So what do you think?”
Squinting, you tilted your head to look at it from a different angle, taking it all in. They were certainly…interesting. Your face had been blown up on all of them, some featured you holding or playing your violin.
“Um….” You trailed off, trying to keep your tone cheerful. “Well, they’re a little different from what I was expecting, but they look nice.”
The last time you spoke with Pepper, you had explained how you were more interested in focusing on the music than yourself, you had even brainstormed on a few different campaign ideas. At the time you thought it had been a productive conversation.
“I know they’re not what we originally discussed, but we’ve found that interest groups respond better to a face, or rather, the face of what we’re trying to promote,” Pepper explained, laying out a few different options in front of you. “As our newest artist in residence, you are the face, the center focus. We’ve been trying to appeal to a wider audience, as well as a younger audience. This is the perfect way to accomplish it.”
“What she means to say is, your original idea was boring. But she’s too professional to say that, isn’t that right, Pepper?” Tony chimed in from where he was sitting on the opposite side of the room, scrolling through his phone.
Pepper let out an exasperated sigh, shooting Tony a glare. “That is not right, Tony.” She gave you an apologetic smile, something she appeared to be used to doing. “Just ignore him. Everyone else does.”
Tony checked the time on his watch, before turning his attention back to you. “If we could wrap this up in a few, is there anything else we need to cover?”
Pepper glanced at her tablet, shaking her head. “We’ve gone over everything as far as marketing is concerned.”
“Fantastic,” Tony said, standing up, stretching his legs out. “Let’s get those materials finalized before next week’s Donor Gala.” As he began walking to his desk, he paused, snapping his fingers. “See if we can get Harkness to conduct something? Something more modern, maybe, but not funky Glass modern. The donors will love that. She’s so much more entertaining to watch than Strange.”
“Well that’s not too difficult to accomplish when the man conducts like he’s performing surgery,” Agatha drawled out, and you jumped at the sound of her voice.
The door to Tony’s office was now wide open as Agatha came strolling in, followed closely by Tony’s assistant.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. I told her you were still in a meeting,” the woman profusely apologized, giving Agatha a terrified glance before adding, “but she wouldn’t listen.”
Tony waved off the apology, clearly unphased by Agatha’s behavior. “It’s fine, Sharon. Maestra! Please, come in. I hope you’ve found everything to your liking?”
“You know me, Tony, I’m not particularly picky,” Agatha replied, enunciating every last syllable as she gave you a simmering glance that resulted in you blushing and looking down at your feet. “But I must say, I’m rather enjoying my time so far.”
“Have you met our artist in residence?” Tony prompted, and you suddenly realized he had no idea of your history with the conductor. “Peps, why don’t we get a photo of the three of us for socials? Ask that one intern for a caption, she’s pretty clever. Kamala, I think?”
Pepper sighed in defeat, fishing around for her camera. “Don’t call it socials, Tony.”
Tony then turned his attention to you, as you finally broke the rather intense staring match with Agatha. “Y/N? Have you had the pleasure of meeting the Maestra?”
Oh have you ever, you thought to yourself. Agatha merely smirked, arching an eyebrow as you stammered for a moment. “I, um, you know it’s funny you mention that, actually. I used to work for her.”
Both Tony and Pepper appeared to be equally surprised with that revelation, and the CFO’s face lit up. “You’re kidding. What a small world!”
“Y/N was my assistant a few years ago, right before she moved to Vienna,” Agatha interjected, still gazing at you with a look you couldn’t decipher. “I’ve been…quite proud of her accomplishments since.”
She was proud of your accomplishments? You knew she apparently watched a video of one of your last performances; you were curious if she had seen anything else (while also wondering why she never bothered to reach out).
“Rather high praise coming from you, Maestra,” Tony said, folding his hands across his chest as he leaned against his desk.
“Well I wouldn’t have been able to have done any of it without Agatha,” you insisted, various memories of late night practice sessions with the conductor rushing back in nostalgic flashes. “She mentored me while I was still her assistant. She always believed in me, sometimes even more than I believed in myself.”
Tony nodded, and you watched him silently brainstorm as an idea hit him. “That’s it. The Maestra and her protegee. Who wouldn’t want to see a series of concerts with one of the most beloved conductors and her former mentee turned rising soloist? Pepper?”
Pepper was already typing on her tablet, nodding along to Tony’s words. “Already on it. I’ll book a shoot for promotional materials, and we’ll have the press release ready by the end of the week.”
Tony folded his hands together, grinning as he looked back and forth between you and Agatha. “Outstanding. What a lucky coincidence you happened to be in LA, Maestra.”
What a lucky coincidence indeed, you agreed, giving Agatha a curious look. The conductor shrugged her shoulders, her usual poker face hiding whatever emotion she was feeling. “What can I say, it must have been fate.”
Tony started rambling on to Pepper about various ideas for both the Donors Gala and marketing, all whilst you found yourself getting lost once more in the enigma that was Agatha Harkness.
Eventually, you found yourself back in the concert hall right before the start of that evening’s rehearsal. The meeting with Tony had been rather successful, even if your obligations now included doing a handful of press and events with Agatha. How the conductor felt on that subject matter was a mystery to you, as she remained uncharacteristically quiet the entire time, offering only the occasional sarcastic, witty comment whenever Tony suggested something particularly outlandish.
Now, as you walked with your violin case in hand, you once again thought about being reunited with Agatha after all this time, as it forced you to think about your feelings for the conductor. Even after all this time, it felt as though a large part of your heart was reserved solely for her, and you weren’t entirely sure what to do with that information. Agatha wasn’t exactly the most open individual, and last time you nearly had to wrestle her feelings out of her. Plus, who’s to say she even feels the same way- you knew a lot could change in five years.
As usual, you were getting ahead of yourself. Right now, you just need to focus on getting through your first rehearsal, and worry about your relationship with Agatha later.
You greeted a few musicians you passed, and you nearly froze as you saw someone very familiar waving at you. Standing in the front row with her violin case was your friend and formed stand partner, Monica Rambeau. You stayed in touch with the violinist after you moved to Vienna, but she never mentioned coming to LA. Running up to her, you set your violin down before embracing her in a hug, fully in disbelief she was here.
“Monica, what are you doing here?” You breathed out, grinning at your friend who smiled back at you.
“The MSO is off for the summer while they remodel the symphony building, so a few of us are filling in out here for the season,” Monica explained, and it was then that you noticed one of the MSO flutists, Dottie and the principal cellist, Hope, up on stage.
“Dottie certainly looks happy,” you noted, watching the flutist enthusiastically chat with a few members of the orchestra on the stage.
“I think she’s looking forward to having a break from Harkness,” Monica admitted, taking a quick glance around to make sure no one else was listening before adding, “not that Maestra was even around for the majority of the season to terrorize her.”
You felt a twinge of pity at the mention of that. Poor Dottie. Agatha did seem to get some sadistic form of pleasure from tormenting her. But it was the latter part of Monica’s sentence that caught your attention, and you gave her a curious glance. “What do you mean she wasn’t around for the majority of the season?”
Although you and Monica had stayed in touch over the past few years, you made a point to never ask about Agatha. While Monica never knew about your relationship with the conductor, she at least knew not to bring her up whenever you talked.
Monica shrugged, grabbing her sheet music from her bag. “She was traveling a lot this year, and missed a lot of rehearsals. You know how she gets. Anytime someone would ask where she was, she would change the subject and find someone new to pick on.”
It didn’t take much effort for you to picture that particular scenario. “That certainly sounds like Agatha.”
“A few people think she’s looking for a job with a different orchestra,” Monica quietly told you. “But between you and me, I think she’s seeing someone.”
You froze in place, choosing your next words carefully. “Seeing someone? Why would you think that?”
“She seemed different whenever she’d come back,” Monica explained as she gently grabbed her violin from its case. “Happier, or as happy as she can be, I guess.”
You fell silent at that, trying to keep your facial expression neutral. Was Agatha dating someone? Was it serious? Is that why she came to LA? The questions began to pile on in your brain, the biggest of all being why did you even care?
As if Monica sensed your discomfort, she changed the subject. “So, have you met Strange yet? I’ve heard he’s pretty straight-laced during rehearsals.”
Strange? Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the question, until you remembered you never told Monica the news of the change in music directors.
Clearing your throat, you nervously bit your lip. “Actually, Monica, I should have mentioned this earlier, but Stephen isn’t conducting-”
The all too familiar sound of clapping rang out from the entrance of the hall, cutting you off as everyone turned their attention to the noise, and you were unsurprised to hear frantic whispering at the sight of Tony Stark eagerly conversing with a brooding Agatha Harkness.
The conductor had changed from the outfit you last saw her in earlier that day, opting for a pair of black dress slacks and a violet button down. Her dark brown hair messily fell over her shoulders. In one hand she lightly grasped her baton, while a few music scores were held by the other.
“Orchestra!” Tony called out, motioning for everyone to gather around him as he walked to the center of the stage. “Unfortunately, Maestro Strange will be taking a personal leave of absence for the duration of our summer season. But I’m very pleased to announce our interim conductor will be none other than Agatha Harkness. She’ll be taking over for the time being, so any questions or concerns are to be directed to her.”
From where you were standing, you watched Dottie’s face turn a sickeningly pale shade of white as Tony went on about what a fantastic marketing opportunity this was for the orchestra.
“I’m going to turn it over to you now, Maestra. I think you’ll be pleased to see a few members from your orchestra are filling in for the summer,” Tony informed Agatha with a grin, giving her a final handshake before exiting through the side stage doors.
Agatha leisurely strolled to stand on the podium, her music dropping down with a loud thud as she twirled the baton between her fingers. “Good evening, orchestra. I understand all of you on the West Coast tend to enjoy your relaxed, Erewhon smoothie drinking, sandal wearing, kumbaya lifestyles, but I have a lot to get through tonight. So, I would like to formally invite those of you not on stage to please grace the rest of us with your presence.”
“Sorry, I should have told you sooner,” you whispered apologetically as Monica stared in disbelief at the sight of the conductor. “She ambushed me earlier when I was practicing.”
“It’s fine,” Monica insisted, carefully managing to hold her violin and bow with one hand, while grasping her music with the other. “I’ll see you after rehearsal, good luck!”
While the rest of the orchestra filed on stage, quickly taking their seats, Agatha's eyes scanned the rows of musicians until she stopped, fixating on the empty chair directly to her left. “I see we’re missing our concertmaster? What a pity.”
As you settled in a seat towards the front of the hall, you noticed Dottie squirming uncomfortably in her seat. Unfortunately, Agatha also took notice, and you watched her shark tooth grin widen. “Dottie, I must say I’m rather surprised to see you. I don’t know if I should be more flattered or alarmed, are you stalking me now?”
A strikingly tall woman with jet black hair suddenly appeared out of nowhere, taking a seat next to you, as she gently opened a violin case on her lap. “She’s certainly something, isn’t she?”
Cocking your head to the side, you frowned. “Who?”
The woman nodded to the stage, where Agatha was still berating an increasingly embarrassed Dottie. “Harkness, she’s a bit of a wild one. Quite different from our usual Maestro.”
You nodded, watching as the mysterious woman applied a generous amount of rosin to her bow, before carefully placing her now empty case under the seat. “She’s definitely one of a kind. I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m Y/N.”
“Oh, I know who you are,” the woman quipped, a knowing smirk on her lips as she stood up. “Our esteemed artist in residence. I caught your performance with the Boston Philharmonic last winter. Your interpretation of Mendelssohn was…surprisingly tasteful.”
You weren’t sure if she was insulting or praising you, but you chose to believe the latter, offering her a polite smile. “Thanks, and you are?”
“Hela Odinson,” the woman introduced herself as she towered over you, giving your shoulder a brief squeeze before she turned away, adding, “now if you’ll excuse me, I have an orchestra to tune.”
Sauntering on stage, Hela cordially nodded to a few of the violinists who said hello to her, making her way to her seat at the front of the section.
It appeared Agatha also noticed the late arrival, as had she paused her verbal rant, curiously eyeing the violinist. “Nice of you to join us, Odinson. I see time management still isn’t one of your strong suits.”
“Well we can’t all be deranged tyrants, Maestra,” Hela playfully fired back, settling in her seat as she placed her bow on the stand, using her free hand to adjust her shoulder rest. “Some of us don’t feel the need to adhere to strict schedules.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Dottie nearly fall out of her chair at Hela’s comment.
Rolling her eyes, Agatha’s grip on her baton tightened, eyes narrowing. “It’s always such a treat to speak with you, Hela.” Tapping her baton on the stand, she waited for the side chatter to stop. “Orchestra, your revered Mr. Stark has requested our presence at next week’s Donor Gala. So, we’ll be switching up our rehearsal schedule. We’re starting with Márquez.”
Dropping her baton on the stand, she stalked off the stage as the orchestra began to tune, the sound of winds, brass, and strings filling the hall, making her way to where you were sitting.
“I thought you said Stephen was sick,” you reminded the conductor as she approached you.
“A personal leave of absence is just that, dear, personal,” Agatha waved off your concern, “I promise it’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over.”
She looked at you and for just a moment it felt like nothing had changed, as if you were still her assistant and you hadn’t spent the past five years apart. You used to love sitting in on rehearsals, always eager for any excuse you could to watch Agatha conduct. Although you’d never willingly admit it, heaven knows her ego didn’t need it, you failed to find a conductor you enjoyed working with as much as Agatha. While most conductors shared the same stubborn, prideful qualities, there was no one quite like Maestra Agatha Harkness.
But, as quickly as the bittersweet feeling came over you, it was gone again, and you were left with the reminder of how much changed, how much you’ve changed. Leaving you to wonder if Agatha has changed much too?
Taking a step closer to you, the conductor pursed her lips, humming to get your attention. “Did you hear a single word I just said?” The guilty expression on your face gave you away, and Agatha sighed. “I hate to do this, but I need to cut Vaughn-Williams today. You know classically trained musicians have difficulty with more…wild rhythms. I’ll need the rehearsal time to run the Márquez to beat every single last syncopated rhythm into their thick skulls.”
“It’s fine,” you insisted, and you should use the extra time to rehearse other music for the Gala, but you felt something urging you to do something else entirely. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay and listen? It’s been a few years since I last played Danzón, I’d love to hear it.”
As if she was somehow expecting you to say that, she smirked. “It’s funny you mention that, because I’m short a violinist today. I know you’re a hot shot soloist now, and I’m sure this is beneath you, but why don’t you sit in with them.”
It wasn’t a question as much as a demand, but you didn’t mind. You never did when it was coming from Agatha.
“I wouldn’t say it’s beneath me, but of course, Maestra. I’d be honored,” you accepted, turning to grab your violin from its case, and your expression fell as you saw a distraught Dottie slouching in her seat. “Hey, maybe you could try to take it easy on Dottie? She really isn’t that bad, you know.”
The once familiar scent of the conductor’s perfume, subtle hints of violet, jasmine, and sandalwood, overtook your senses as she took yet another step closer to you. “I know my memory isn’t what it used to be, but I seem to recall you used to enjoy being beneath me, hm?”
Of course she brought up the memory comment you made earlier, knowing the conductor she would torture you with it for all of eternity. You felt your face grow hot as you blushed, before remembering where you were. “Agatha…”
“Besides, I thought you liked how mean I was,” the conductor murmured, in reference to your comment on Dottie, as she stood far too close to you for far too long. “This is my orchestra after all, at least for the next few months.”
Agatha gave you an absolutely filthy wink, heading back to the podium. Raising her baton, she tapped the stand to signal for the orchestra to pay attention. “We’ll be joined by our summer artist in residence, Y/N, for the rest of rehearsal.”
She paused as the orchestra broke out into a brief round of applause, and you dared to think she looked pleased at that reaction. After a few seconds she waved her hands to cut them off. “From the top, please.”
You were thrilled to find the open chair was next to Monica, and you grinned wildly. “It’s like I’m having deja vu.”
“I know, right. I’ve gotta say, Maestra seems happier than I’ve seen in a while,” Monica said coyly, giving you an inquisitive look.
“What?” You whispered, wondering what she was implying. Surely Agatha’s good mood had nothing to do with you, there were a few things that occasionally made her happy. She always appeared happier after picking on Dottie, for example, or when one of the interns got fired.
“Oh, nothing,” Monica innocently replied, getting the music ready.
Agatha raised her baton, and the room fell silent in anticipation of her downbeat. Then it began, as her hands masterfully began to conduct, cueing in the solo clarinet, piano, and then oboe with a swish of her baton. You loved almost every piece of music you ever performed, but your heart always held a special spot for Danzón No. 2. Filled with sultry and exquisite melodies, it had several different tempo changes that required you to keep your eyes locked on the conductor. In this case, you had no difficulty doing that, as Agatha Harkness was the most engaging conductor you had ever met.
You were always surprised at how well she was able to connect with any piece and make it her own, with every flourish of her baton and wave of her hands, it was as if she was the one composing the musical masterpiece herself. Danzón No. 2 was no exception, you realized, mesmerized at the sight of Agatha in her element after so long. There was a tempo change shortly after the start of the piece, and the conductor increased the speed of her baton, urging the orchestra to follow her with little difficulty. This was a particularly fun run to play as a violinist, and you allowed your muscle memory to guide you through the familiar rhythms and notes, as it had been a few years since you had last played it, bow moving in unison with the rest of the first violin section.
As much as you loved being a soloist, there were few things that could compare to the feeling of playing in the violin section. Mastering difficult passages while your fingers moved completely in sync, counting every rest until you were cued back in, it was a special, tingly, heartwarming feeling that you hadn’t realized you had missed until now.
One of your favorite sections of this piece was the violin solo, and you watched Agatha cue Hela in. The concertmaster was, unsurprisingly, extremely talented, as she used an impressive amount of vibrato on all of her notes, ringing out through the hall. It was a slow, seductive melody, and every shift of her fingers was exaggerated to draw out the intended luscious sound. As you counted the rests until the rest of the section came back in, you couldn’t help but notice the prolonged eye contact between the conductor and the concertmaster. You then thought back to their brief exchange at the start of rehearsal. Did they know each other? Is Hela the reason why Agatha seemed so happy?
The solo came to an end as Hela played her final note, and as Agatha cued the rest of the section back in, she did something you had never seen before. Using the hand not holding her baton, she pulled her hair back, twisting it into a bun before securing it with her baton. Both hands now free, the conductor took more freedom with the slower tempo, leading the orchestra through the gorgeous melody. As the strings took over, Agatha exaggerated her conducting pattern to encourage the orchestra to grow in sound. Closing her eyes to truly feel the beat, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, completely content with watching her in all her beauty.
Her eyes opened, suddenly, and they landed on you, her lips twisted upwards to form a rare, but genuine, smile. You couldn’t help but smile back, you had missed this; had missed her. You never stopped missing her. The moment was broken all too soon, as the next tempo change was approaching, and the strings went back to the background syncopated rhythm, Agatha beat out the faster tempo with her hands, baton remaining in her hair. It continued on, with the brass leading the rest of the ensemble to the home stretch, as the violinists did another run up the fingerboard.
Embracing her dramatic flair, the conductor whipped the baton back out, her hair flying every which way as she furiously laid out the last tempo change, and the orchestra followed suit. A final piccolo and piano duet played out as the brass accompanied, and you were pleased that Agatha wasn’t glaring at Dotite at all. The rest of the piece was a colorful, loud blend of syncopated rhythms and passages filled with scales that were embellished, pushing the orchestra forward with every measure, unrelenting until they reached the ending. Agatha conducted the last beat with a final twirl of her hands, effectively cutting the orchestra off.
“That wasn’t half bad,” Agatha offered, flipping back through her score and making half scribbled notes with her pencil. “If we could go back to the beginning, I need to hear more of the oboe when they come in, so strings make sure you stay below that.” She turned another page back, making a huge circle, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, and Dottie I need you not to fall over, but that wasn’t terrible. I need more piccolo, so play out more…please.”
From where you were sitting, you noticed the MSO cellist, Hope, raise her eyebrows almost comically high from shock, and Monica stifled a gasp. Craning your neck, you watched Dottie nearly fall out of her chair once more, and you were happy for her. You knew Agatha meant well, in most cases, but sometimes she could take things a bit too far.
In the back of your mind you were still wondering if she had something to do with Stephen’s sudden personal leave of absence, but when you looked back to the podium, those thoughts were swept aside as the woman who occupied nearly all your thoughts was looking at you expectantly, her baton lowered. She didn’t give Dottie a half-compliment because of you, did she?
Her hair was still flying all over, as it was even more uncontrollable than normal, and you could make out the beads of sweat on her forehead from the effort of conducting such a fast-paced, intense piece. A rather intrusive thought popped in your head as you stared, reminding you the last time you had seen the conductor that out of breath and glistening with sweat was when you were naked in her bed with her fingers curling inside you as she counted how many times she could make you come.
No, you could not reminisce on those particular memories now, you thought as you tried to keep the blush from spreading on your cheeks.
It hit you full force, for what felt like the millionth time, how much you had missed Agatha Harkness. But here she was, in all her glory, looking at you for some sort of response and all you could do was stare dumbly at her, trying to wordlessly convey every thought, every feeling you had bottled up for the past five years.
“Thank you,” you mouthed to Agatha, grateful if she had indeed listened to you.
Finally raising her baton, Agatha gave you a wink, another one of those special, rare smiles on her face. “Let’s take it from the top!”
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Twenty Fanfic Writer Questions
Tagged by @storyspinner91 a while back but I was in Australia!
Who'd like to play? I've tagged a few people in the questions themselves, but maybe also... @onlyshestandsthere, @expensivefate, @jayenator565, @commanderbuffy @geek-and-nina if you like?
1. How many works do you have on Ao3?
19, which feels *wild*! 19!!
2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?
221,606
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Willow! Just Willow, these days. Tanthamore have my heart.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
one night at the start of the end of the world - my Shattered Sea one shot, tender tender Tanthamore, and there's only one bed, and it's the birthplace of pillbug Kit, and the fic where I worked out how much I liked writing them looking after each other. I'm glad this one is other people's favourite, too.
more than just survival - my multichapter canon story about Jade as she grows up, from when she was a kid in Tir Asleen to what happens after they return from the quest. Also a 5+1 (five times Kit made Jade blush and the one time Jade got her back).
The Pieces - kinkverse modern au short stories, a collaboration with @acre-of-wheat and @swashbucklery. I've written The Spider, The Mile High Club, The Maintenance and The Holes.
kiss me, kill me - my Bone Reaver Jade au, Jade busts into Tir Asleen to kidnap the princess and ends up getting got herself, in so many ways.
I scream at your chest for as long as I must - a post canon one shot, just after they return from the quest. Jade grieves for Ballantyne and Kit learns how to walk with her though her grief.
5. Do you respond to comments?
I like to!
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I don't know - I can tell you my darkest premises (probably the very canon divergent the cellar door is an open throat aka the barbed wire, Kit Jade and Elora in a dungeon au) but even the ending of that one finishes with a glimmer of hope.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Huh, I think with most of my fics I tend to go for hopeful endings over happy ones. I think my most *satisfying*, hopeful ending I wrote was Samaras (an Architect of Catastrophe story) that I wrote as a present for @wigster07. I'm really, really pleased with that one. It's about rebuilding after tragedy.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
I haven't, and am very grateful for that.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Do I ever?! What kind? What *kind*?! The gay kind. Aside from the aforementioned kinkverse, I've also got a canon based smut series (my kissing fics!) called There's not a step we can take that does not bring us closer where Kit and Jade are inventing all the different ways they love being together.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? and 11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Nope and nope!
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Also nope - although Juliette made [Podfic of] one night at the start of the end of the world where she read this fic GORGEOUSLY! It's there for download if you want to listen.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I've collaborated! I haven't done a true co-writing thing for this fandom but, there's the kinkverse series in which I'm in deep cohorts with Acre and J, the singing cowboy fic I wrote into J's (cowboy) take me away (tanthamore rdr2 au). I love them both - they push me in new directions, and the feedback loop of inspiration is an utter joy.
14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?
Tanthamore, hands down
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I plan on finishing them all. Yes even Wyrm Jade/I'll be the sweetest thing to ever scare you, yes I know it's been a hot minute. I do have genuine plans to finish.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Coming up with phrases/images that people remember, that's probably the part I get a kick out of the most. I think my pacing and character and words in general are all pretty good, but writing callbacks to earlier in the story, or getting the foreshadowing right, are two of my favourite things to play with.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I get repetitive - mostly I manage to catch this in edits, but ho boy do I know how to say the same thing over and over.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I'm not fluent in anything other than English so I haven't used dialogue in other languages in any of my fics - unless you count the Ancient Angoran in 'kiss me kill me'.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Dragonball Z, an epic written by hand in double spaced lines over several exercise books ;)
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
I'm really proud of 'one night' and 'more than just survival' but there is a special place in my heart for Let's take a knife and cut the world in two and its follow up there is light somewhere (it may not be much light but it beats the darkness) - my Exorcist Jade/possessed Kit au. The strange not-canon, not-modern, some-mix-of-the-two world that I made for that one is my *favourite*.
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