kellanswritingblog

[kellanswritingblog]

i can finally show my piece for @malevolentbigbang, i'm so excited!!!

i worked with an absolutely amazing author @kellanswritingblog whose fic that you can read right here was so inspiring i went above and beyond in my fanart, and a wonderful artist @threearmsally who also made a stunning piece for this fic you should check out!

anyways, here's mine!

it is an amazing event with amazing people and i had so much fun working with them and drawing this, i'm glad i had the honour TwT

some closeups under the cut!

yes i got obsessed with the fic

[kellanswritingblog]

Omg omg @malevolentbigbang is live and we can finally post our pieces!

I had the ABSOLUTE PLEASURE to work with @kellanswritingblog and @alansheas on Kellan’s wonderful scifi AU you can check out here:

Observer Pattern

(Image ID in the alt text)

Make sure you check out the fic as well as Alan’s amazing piece here!

[kellanswritingblog]

In the distance future, the populace has Receptors implanted in their temple. These are small devices that feature a program to help the user get through their day and handle various clerical tasks. When private investigator Arthur Lester starts looking into the death of a programmer, a new, more vicious program moves into his Receptor and begins taking control of his body. He is forced to rely on this program as they work together to find its source, learning how to both navigate the world and trust their new partner.

This was written for the 2023 Malevolent Big Bang (@malevolentbigbang)! I was so fortunate to work with two incredibly talented artists, Alan and KM! They made artwork for chapters 3 and 5! Please check out their blogs and gush over their art because I Cannot stop staring at it.

Alan: @alansheas KM: @threearmsally

[kellanswritingblog]

Hello fine beautiful folks! Here's a friendly reminder that our preorders are up right now, and a fun announcement! Any profits made from selling the zines will be split between two charities in accordance with the poll results: Water First, and the National Center for Transgender Equality. Thank you so much for your support on this project. :-)

[kellanswritingblog]

And Preorders are open! Please feel free to contact the shop with any questions!

- K.M. 💚

[kellanswritingblog]

Spotlight on Kellan next! Kellan is writing for our zine, @kellanswritingblog !

Kellan has written a soft and sweet piece, and I can’t wait to see it in the zine!

- K.M. 💚

[kellanswritingblog]

drastic (for whomstever your little heart desires lol)

Drastic from this post Featuring Hawke being a little shit

“Are we really going to do this?”

“Of course.”

“That’s a High Dragon down there.  We don’t have to be drastic, we can think about this…”  Anders complained, brow furrowed.

Hawke shrugged, then teased, “I didn’t realize the reason you had all those feathers on your coat was because you’re actually a chicken.”

Off to the side, Fenris stifled a chuckle, hiding a smile behind his hand.

“C’mon, Anders, it’ll be fun!”  Hawke clapped him on the shoulder and began to race toward the dragon guarding the Bone Pit.  “What’s the worst that can happen?”

[kellanswritingblog]

Prompt #1 for the micro stories!! Either RQG or Malevolent, whatever you're vibing with more!

Don’t Leave Prompt from this post

I had an idea a while ago about Arthur in the Dark World and I plan to write it all at some point (I say as if I don't have like 8 fics in the "at some point" category lol) but this is related to that. Thank you for the prompt!

“John, are you there?” 

Arthur opened his eyes, but he still couldn’t see.  And John didn’t respond to his cries.

“John, please, this isn’t funny.  What’s going on?  Where are we?”

Still, he was met with silence, and he realized that he was alone.

“Don’t leave me like this, please,” Arthur pleaded to the empty space around him.  “Please, John, come back, I can’t… I need you. I need you."

[kellanswritingblog]

"harsh whisper" for the short story askmeme

Harsh Whisper Prompt from this post Thank you for the prompt!!

Kaidan was practically wearing a hole in the floor of the hospital as he continued to pace back and forth, back and forth, waiting for news, any news.

If anyone could survive being buried beneath rubble and the wreckage of Reapers and the Citadel, it was Shepard.  They had survived worse, and been brought back from death.

No matter how Kaidan tried to reassure himself, a harsh whisper continued to echo at the edge of his mind, reminding him that, despite everything, Shepard was still only mortal.  He had lost them once before, and that aching pain threatened to crawl back into his heart with every step he took.

But he would continue to wait, to pace, to hope.  They were Commander Shepard.  Nothing could kill them.

...

Right?

[kellanswritingblog]

A very short thing for Valentine’s Day where John and Arthur get a movie date

“So, how did you enjoy your first film?”

“I enjoyed it quite a bit, actually,” John replied haughtily.  “I suppose I should say thank you for finally taking me to see one.”

“We have been a little preoccupied with other concerns, you know,” Arthur remarked, then softened.  “All the same, I’m glad you enjoyed it.  Happy Valentine’s Day, John.”

“Valentine’s Day?”

Arthur explained, “It’s a little holiday we have here, where people celebrate the bonds that they have with the people closest to them.”

“I see.  Safe to say we do have a pretty… inseparable bond.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” Arthur chuckled.  “And I care about you a great deal, so taking you out to a film, something I know you’ve wanted to do for a while, seems the least I can do, particularly today.”

“Well, thank you, really.  Maybe, if we have another free day… we could see another one?”

“If we have time,” Arthur acquiesced with a smile.

After a quiet moment, John said, “I care about you too, Arthur.”

“I know.  But it is good to hear you say it.”

“And a Happy Valentine’s Day to you as well.”

[kellanswritingblog]

“Arthur, no!  No…”

Arthur makes no response.  Before despair can fully consume John, he shakes the fear away.  Maybe he can still stop the bleeding?

With his hand – or, Arthur’s hand, the one that John just happens to control – he presses down on the wound in Arthur’s abdomen, ignoring the quantity of blood that coats their skin.

Why didn’t he listen?  Just this once?  If they had let that other person, the one who had escaped the beast’s grasp before, serve as a distraction, maybe Arthur wouldn’t be bleeding out on the floor!  But he never listened, did he?  Maybe… maybe…

John stops these thoughts.  He and Arthur argued enough when he was alive.  No, he corrects himself, he’s still alive, he is just unconscious from the blood loss, he’s still here, he has to be.  They can bicker again if he wakes up.  When he wakes up.

Because he has to wake up. John only now barely considers what may happen to him if Arthur passes away, but that is still so far from his main concern.  He would willingly and eagerly return to the Dark World, to the Dreamlands, to the King himself if it meant that Arthur would wake up, that he would breathe, that he would open his eyes, that he would call out for John just one more time.

But as John continues to press down on their abdomen, knowing how futile his attempts to staunch the bleeding are now that Arthur’s heart has stopped, numbness begins to spread through his arm.  When he goes to make a fist to ward off the feeling, his fingers won’t move.

As John begins to fade away, he whispers one last time, “I’m sorry, Arthur.  I’m sorry.”

[kellanswritingblog]

🏴‍☠️  PREORDERS OPEN  🏴‍☠️

Preorders for Spring Tides, an open-call, for-charity Our Flag Means Death Zine are now OPEN until November 22nd! The spoils of the Revenge are just within reach!  

🛒 https://ofmdzine.bigcartel.com/

All proceeds will go to F’INE Pasifika, which is an Aotearoa (New Zealand) based “Pacific LGBTQI+ / MVPFAFF+ focused Charitable Trust that provides Whānau Ora navigational services”. You can find out more about their work here.

🔒 STRETCH GOAL ���

Each purchase of a physical bundle brings us one step closer to unlocking our stretch goal, an amazingly cute acrylic charm by @littledozerdraws​ !

Interested? Please consider supporting us with an order!

📕 ZINE ONLY - Books for Sale! - from $25 📕

Grab a physical copy of the zines, which total over 350+ pages of OFMD content by over 170 contributors!

Each purchase also comes with a digital copy of the zines, and exclusive digital merch!

⛵ ZINE + MERCH - Spoils of the Revenge! - from $45 ⛵

The whole shebang! This bundle includes a physical copy of vol. 1 and/or vol. 2, physical merch (prints and stickers), and digital goods!

Unable to grab a physical copy? You can get the zine for FREE on our itch.io store!

If you’d like to support our charity, a minimum $5 donation will also get you exclusive digital merch (including wallpapers and sheet music for the song!)

https://ofmdzine.itch.io/  Please note that our itch.io store will not open until the 7th of October! We will make an announcement once we’re open for digital-only orders.

We appreciate your patience!  Vol. 1 art by @littledozerdraws​

Vol. 2 art by @fishfingersandscarves​

Piece previews will be featured over the preorder period! Please come have a look at our contributors’ amazing work.

[kellanswritingblog]

My very first Malevolent fic!  Spoilers for ep 26 and warnings for suicidal ideation and thoughts

Arthur winced in pain as John wrapped a bandage around the still bleeding gash that ran along his right forearm.  They were lucky – it could have been much, much worse, but that didn’t stop it from hurting or from John letting his thoughts be heard.

“This was reckless, Arthur. You need to pay more attention.”

“It was a mistake.”

“A mistake that nearly cost you the only arm you have left!”  John cried.  He pulled the bandage a little too tight with his outburst and took the time to readjust it before continuing.  “I don’t want you getting hurt like this.”

“I know, I know.  Can’t have your host dying on you.”

“You think that’s what this is about?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Obviously our lives are intrinsically bound together for the time being.  But that is not what this is about.  I need you, Arthur, and not because my existence depends on your continued survival.  Even if it didn’t… I still need you.”  John ran a finger along the edge of the bandage, gently brushing against Arthur’s skin as he did so.  “And watching you make these choices, carelessly and thoughtlessly barging into danger… I can’t help but wonder if you’re…”

“If I’m what?”

“Never mind.”

“Say it,” Arthur spat.

“If you’re feeling the same way you did at the Larson Estate.  If you’re trying to die.”

“I’m not,” he stated firmly. “This was a mistake, an accident – that’s all it was, I promise.  I can’t make you believe me, but I”-

“I do believe you,” John confessed.  He could hear the sincerity in Arthur’s tone.  “I’m sorry, that was unfair of me.”

“No, it’s not unfair, not really.  I would be lying if I said I didn’t have moments when I still felt that I would be better off dead, as if that would be some small justice.”

“Arthur…”

“I’m not going to try and get myself killed, don’t worry,” Arthur said.  “I wouldn’t force that on you; it would be wrong of me to take your life because I feel that mine should end.  And you were right, before, when you said that Faroe wouldn’t want me to give up.”

“You should want to live for yourself, though.”

“Yeah, probably.  But I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Maybe not yet.”  John finished bandaging Arthur’s arm and now rested his hand atop Arthur’s.  “When you have those moments, those thoughts… please tell me.  I want to help.  You shouldn’t suffer that alone.”

Arthur let out a heavy breath.  “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask.  And I’m sorry for being so hard on you earlier,” John confessed after a pause.  “If you were actively trying to get yourself killed, screaming at you likely wouldn’t help matters.”

With a chuckle, Arthur teased, “To be fair, your screaming has kept me going in quite a few scenarios.  But, you’re right, maybe not so helpful in this one.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed.  You’re doing good, Arthur.  We’re alive because of you.”

“I think it’s a joint effort.”

“So let me help you survive.  And choose to live.”

“You do.”  Arthur flipped his hand around just enough to give John’s a reassuring squeeze while also not overly aggravating the recently bandaged wound. “You already help.  I… thank you, John.”

Assuming that Arthur had steered subjects back toward his injury, John said, “We’ll need to change the bandages in a day, if whatever we find next doesn’t disrupt that timeline.”

“That’s not what I meant.  I mean, yes, thank you for patching me up, but I meant to thank you for everything else.”

“Oh.  You’re welcome, Arthur.  I know that I haven’t always been worthy of your trust, but I won’t betray it again.”

“I know.”

The pair continued to sit like that, hands clasped as one.  Whatever darkness came their way, either through the mistakes of their pasts or the terrors of their future, they would share this moment of light and step forward together.

[kellanswritingblog]

Here's my collaboration artwork for the Rusty Quill Big Bang!!! The fic is SO soft y'all, @kellanswritingblog slam dunked it. Here's the link:

[kellanswritingblog]

Set after the first epilogue, Zolf comes to visit Hamid in Cairo.  They find themselves relying on each other to cope with the Change and everything they lost, and become closer than they ever were while trying to save the world. They work to fit their new relationship in with the one that Zolf and Wilde already share, while forming something new amongst the three of them and finding solace in each other.

My piece for the 2022 Rusty Quill Big Bang, organized by @pilesofnonsense.

I was paired with the amazing @stuffandsuchrqg who made some incredible art for Chapter 6: Party Time!  You were a great partner and I hope we can work together again some time!!

[kellanswritingblog]

Zolf is the first to say ‘I love you.’

It happens in passing, while they’re all getting ready in their presidential suite at Le Triomphe.  Hamid stands before a mirror, his face contorted, tongue out, as he carefully applies a thick coat of eyeliner.  

Zolf waits until he’s done; makeup isn’t his forte, but he doesn’t want to startle Hamid mid-line either. Once Hamid sets aside the eyeliner and examines his pristine appearance, Zolf remarks,

“Can’t you just use your prestidigitation to do that too?”

Hamid jumps slightly and turns to face Zolf.

“Of course, I could. But prestidigitation is just magic. This-” He gestures to the perfect decorations on his eyelids “-is art.”

Zolf can’t help but let out a loud laugh.  It has no mocking intent, but Hamid’s statement was so matter-of-fact and so unexpected that Zolf can’t keep it in.  

As he continues to chuckle and head out of the room, he mutters, “I love you, Hamid. That’s…”  He lets out a happy sigh and leaves before either of them can examine what he said further.  

Truthfully, Zolf doesn’t mean to say such words, not then.  They escape his lips before he knows what he’s doing, before he knows inside him that it is the truth.  And Hamid doesn’t know how to accept that truth, so he lets the moment pass, ignoring the words and keeping them locked at the back of his brain.  

It isn’t until after Zolf leaves in Prague that Hamid really remembers those words, knows that they fit how he feels about Zolf as he writes letter after letter to him, so many miles apart.  The distance changes nothing but perspective.  

But when they meet again, years have passed.  Neither is the same man they were when they parted.  And they don’t know how those feelings may reconcile with the new individual standing before them, separated by thick, adamantine bars.  

Later, in the midst of battle, Hamid is thrown to the floor as the ceiling starts to cave in, but Zolf is above him in an instant, shielding him with his own body.  It protects him from most of the damage, and they both think that, if they get trapped under the rubble again, like they did in the Paris Catacombs, at least this time they’ll be together.  

The last chunk of ceiling falls, and Hamid looks up at Zolf, fear in his eyes.  

“Zolf, Zolf!  Are you okay?  Please be okay, I love you, please…”

Zolf grimaces from the pain, but then meets Hamid’s gaze and smiles as the words play over in his head.

“I’m fine.  You?”

Hamid breathes heavily. “Thank you.”

“I’m a dwarf,” Zolf laughs. “Rocks can’t hurt me.”  

“Well, allow me to repay the favor next time we find a fireball, alright?”  He beams up at Zolf, the pair still pressed together while combat rages around them.  

“Fair enough, but let’s not go looking for that, yeah?”

Hamid nods, but there’s still a battle to be won, a world to be saved.  Zolf helps him to his feet, his glaive glowing with a fire that matches the flaming beams flying from Hamid’s hands as they take on all comers.

It isn’t until later, during a quiet reprieve, when they’re safe and alone and things might be okay for just another moment more, that they say those words again, that they say them with full meaning behind them.  They’re not uttered in an dangerous instant, they’re not a casual revelation – they are promises and assurances against all the world, through the good times and the bad, across thousands of miles, and even from behind bars, that no matter how much might change, they can face it together.  

[kellanswritingblog]

And my second fic for @jonsimsandcats day!  Set during Season 1 ish, where Jon finds a cat behind the Institute and decides it should live with them in the Archives.

“Tim, did you steal my snacks again?”

“I have never, nor would I ever steal your snacks,” he replied as he lounged at his desk, pointedly eating a crisp from a package that Sasha had brought in earlier that week.

Sasha frowned.  

“Something good?”

“Some slices of salami and cheese.  Not the end of the world, but why would they only take that? And not this whole salad?”

“I mean, I’d pick cheese over a salad any day,” Tim teased. Then he added, more seriously this time, “That is weird though.  Elias will have a field day if he finds out someone is nicking people’s lunches.”

They didn’t have long to wonder at the identity of the thief, however.  Tim and Sasha delivered their reports to Jon later that day, but he wasn’t in his office and the door to the exterior of the Institute at the end of the hall was slightly ajar.

“I mean, we’re going to go look, right?”  Sasha said, placing her reports on Jon’s desk before heading off to investigate the open door without waiting for Tim’s response.

He dutifully followed suit, and they pushed open the door to find Jon squatting a short distance away.

“Shh!”  He cried in a whisper.  “Quiet! And move slow.”

Despite their curiosity, Tim and Sasha did as instructed and carefully moved to Jon’s side.

“What’s going on?”  Tim asked.

“There’s a cat.”

Sasha rolled her eyes affectionately.  “Of course, there’s a cat.”

“I’m trying to lure her out so I can get her to the vet. Looks like there’s a bad scratch on her face.”

Jon gestured to a familiar looking container as he mentioned luring the cat into reach, and Sasha gasped.

“You!  You’re the one that took my salami!”

“Shhh!”  Jon insisted.

In an accusing whisper, Sasha replied, “You took my snack!”

“I just needed something that might entice the cat,” he admitted.  “And I didn’t bring a lunch today, so I thought… I’m sorry.  I meant to tell you, and I’ll absolutely pay you back.”

Despite her initial outburst, Sasha couldn’t fault his reasoning.  “Listen, if it helps the cat, then it’s alright.  Though, it was good salami…”

As her voice died down, shimmering eyes appeared in the shadow before them.  Jon placed a small piece of salami at the edge of the darkness, and then moved away, urging Sasha and Tim to do the same.

A few moments later, a scraggly grey cat stepped carefully toward the salami, sniffing it intently before gobbling it up.  There was indeed a large scratch across her forehead, and she shook her head occasionally as if that would eliminate the pain.

“It’s alright,” Jon cooed as he tossed out a few more pieces of salami.  Then, he whispered to Tim and Sasha.  “The carrier is just over there.  Bring it over.”

Tim quietly gathered the carrier and did his best to keep it out of the cat’s sight as Jon placed the food closer to him.  Once Tim was in place, Jon grabbed the cat and shoved it ungracefully into the carrier, though he tried his best to be gentle. Sasha slammed the door shut and latched it closed.

“Hey, good teamwork everyone,” Tim said once the cat was secure.

“Thank you for your help,” Jon added.  “And thank you for your salami.”  He handed the Tupperware back to Sasha with an apologetic grimace.

“Are we taking her to the vet then, or what?”  She asked.  “There’s one not far from here.”

Jon smiled and took the carrier from Tim.  “Lead on.  What do you think we should name her?”

“We?  What, are you planning to keep the cat in the Archives?”

“Why not?  Surely it’ll be good for morale.”

“Elias is not going to let you get away with that,” Tim laughed.

Jon rebuked, “Martin got to have a dog in the Archives!”

“He didn’t get to keep it in the Archives; he had to catch the thing and take it to a shelter.”

“Technicalities.”

“You do know that you might not get to keep her?” Sasha interjected.  “She might have a family and we’ll have to return her.”

“Of course I know that,” Jon said in that hasty sort of backpedaling which indicated he hadn’t even considered that possibility. “But if she doesn’t have a family, I think that the Archives would make a good home for her.”

“Elias still isn’t going to let that happen, mate,” Tim replied, shaking his head while smiling.

“I can handle Elias.  None of this is answering the question of what we should name her, assuming we do get to keep her.  I’m partial to titles as names for pets.  I knew a cat named The Admiral once, and he deserved that rank and status.”

“Why not just call her the Archivist, then?”  Sasha suggested.  “Since she might be joining us in the Archives.”

“Name her Gertrude – she’s already got grey hair,” Tim offered, and Sasha scoffed.

“Don’t insult the poor kitty like that!”

They continued to debate the merit of different names and titles for the cat as they continued on their way to the vet.  Jon was most concerned that the cat be returned to full health and reunited with her family, if she had one.  If she didn’t… well, then the Archives was as good a place as any, right?