#I have been avoiding mentioning this particular major plot for the AU

[thelastspeecher]

Part 2

Should I try to come up with a title for this, since it's actually the first part of a two-parter (and the second part will be posted tomorrow)? Perhaps. But I'm sick so I'm not gonna expend the effort to think of a title. And also, no summary. See: I am sick. So here. Shining Armor AU thing. Enjoy.

Oh, and Happy New Year's.

——————————————————————————————

              There was a knock on Stan’s bedroom door.

              “Your Highness?” a familiar voice called.  Stan grinned.

              “Come in!” he called back.  The door opened.  Stan’s personal knight and secret wife, Angie, slipped inside and closed the door behind her.  Stan got up from where he’d been sitting at his desk, going over maps of potential new trade routes.  He walked over to Angie and embraced her tightly.  “What brings my knight here on a day she’s supposed to be training the new squires?” he whispered in her ear.

              “Grave news,” Angie said in a shaking voice.  Stan stepped back, suddenly worried.

              “What is it?” he asked.  His eyes widened.  “Your family?  My family?”

              “Um…”  Angie anxiously played with the wedding ring Stan had collected from a magical creature for her.  As her marriage to Stan was not to be known to other than a select few, she kept it on a chain around her neck, tucked under her tunic.  “Both, I s’ppose.”

              “Huh?”

              “Stan, I…”  Angie took a deep breath.  “I’m with child.”  She met Stan’s eyes.  “Your child.”

              “I- I would assume,” Stan sputtered, trying to overcome the dread that had promptly filled his every inch.  He dragged his hands down his face.  “Son of a- we only did it one time!  How did this happen?”

              “I apologize,” Angie mumbled.  “I followed the instructions I knew of to prevent pregnancy.  But even those failed in the face of my fam’ly’s fertility.  I should have known better.  Pa says we were blessed by a fae to have many children see adulthood.”

              “We’re gonna talk about that fae thing later,” Stan said.  “Right now, we- we’ve got to figure out what to do.”

              “Agreed.”  Angie shuddered.  “My Ma, she’s told me of methods that can be used to halt a pregnancy.  I can go to the apothecary to get what I need.  Of course, Sir Banjo purchasin’ those herbs would raise questions and perhaps rumors.”

              “You want to get rid of the baby?” Stan asked in an undertone.

              “I don’t know what other options we have, Stanley!  I can’t exactly bear a child without bein’ found out!”

              “What if you go back home?”

              “And return to my post once I give birth?”

              “…Yes?”

              “That causes more problems than it solves.  Fer one thing, you’d never be able to see yer child!  Is that what you want?” Angie demanded.  Stan shook his head.  “I- I don’t want to lose this child.  But I don’t see other options.”

              “I mean, I could always fake my own death,” Stan said with a shrug.  Angie’s eyes boggled.  “Ford’s the heir anyways.  You’ll say you want to stop being a knight ‘cause you’re so broken-hearted by my death.  We leave and settle down somewhere no one will know who I am.”

              “The whole reason I dressed as a man to become a knight was to avoid that sort of life,” Angie said.  “I didn’t want to be stuck in a tiny village, keepin’ house and makin’ children.”  She covered her face with her hands.  “I still don’t want that.”

              “Fine, then what are we gonna do?”

              “I- I don’t know!”  Angie rubbed her eyes.  “I wish there were more options than just those few.  But those are the only ones we can think of.”  She paused.  “Though perhaps someone else could help us think of more.”

              “Whom?  Our brothers?” Stan asked.  “They wouldn’t have a clue.”

              “No.”

              “Well, we definitely can’t tell my parents.  You’d be allowed to live long enough to give birth, but beheaded right after.  And I’d be banished from the kingdom.”

              “I was thinkin’ we could talk to my parents, but thanks fer that lovely prediction,” Angie said.  Stan shrugged again.

              “I’m just being realistic.”

              “Hopefully it ain’t our reality,” Angie said quietly.  “My parents, they’re much smarter than you’d expect from commonfolk.  My ma, she was actually the one who taught us all how to read.  She even taught my pa.”

              “Huh.  Weird.”

              “We’ll need to come up with an excuse to visit my fam’ly.”

              “No problem.”  Stan went back to his desk and picked up one of the maps, which showed the kingdom’s southern border.  The town Angie grew up in was so close to the border, it was practically in the neighboring kingdom of Lirone.  “Father’s been wanting to establish trade routes with Lirone for ages.  I’ll say we wanna do a scouting expedition, just the two of us, to check out the border.”  He looked back at Angie.  “Is there a time limit on the herbs?”

              “They can be used before the quickening.”

              “And how long does that take?”

              “About five months.”

              “Good.  That’s plenty of time.”  Stan set the map down and went back to his knight.  “I’ll start working on the trip plans right away.”  He wrapped his arms around Angie.  As he squeezed her, he imagined hugging not just his wife, but his unborn child, too.  He kissed the top of Angie’s head.  “We’ll figure it out.”

              “If you say so.”

              “I’m a prince, remember?  What I say goes.”

-----

              Stan looked at Angie, who was riding her horse Daisy sidesaddle as they entered the small hamlet Angie had grown up in, Gumption.  She didn’t often ride sidesaddle, given that she wasn’t often dressed like a woman.  But once they had put some distance between themselves and the castle, she and Stan had changed their clothes to ride without attracting attention.  For Angie, that meant wearing one of the dresses she kept at the castle in case she needed to drop her disguise of Sir Banjo.  For Stan, that meant wearing clothes from one of Angie’s brothers.  Stan asked if he should wear a hooded cloak to cover his face; after all, it was almost identical to Ford’s face, which was on currency.  Angie, however, said that it would just attract more attention.

              She didn’t seem worried about someone realizing I’m related to the royal family.  Kinda weird, since she worries about literally everything else.  But at least it means she’s wearing the cloak.  It was a cold, early morning, and they had already been traveling in poor weather for two days.

              “Angie?” said a young woman sweeping the front step of a bakery.  Angie forced a weak smile.

              “Hello, Leighanne.”

              “What brings ya back to Gumption?” asked Leighanne.  Her eyes landed on Stan.  “Is he yer betrothed?”

              “No,” Stan interjected.  “I’m her husband.”  Leighanne’s jaw dropped.  Angie groaned softly.  Stan bowed his head.  “Sir Stan.”

              “Angie!” Leighanne gasped.  “I overheard your ma and mine discussin’ that a knight had begun to court you, but I didn’t realize you were already wed!”

              “Yes, well, that’s why we’re visitin’,” Angie said in a tremulous voice.

              “Please stop by once you’ve talked to yer parents.  I’d love to catch up.  Maybe hear some stories ‘bout castle life.”  Leighanne smiled at Stan.  “And meet yer husband, too.”

              “Of course, Leighanne,” Angie mumbled.  Leighanne went back inside the bakery.  Once the door closed, Angie glared at Stan.

              “What?” Stan asked.  “You said you’ve been sending letters about a knight courting you, so that your parents would stop trying to set you up.  I just went with that.”

              “No, you didn’t!  You didn’t say we were courtin’ or even betrothed!  You said we were wed!”  Angie groaned again, louder this time.  “Word moves fast in small towns.  We need to pick up the pace if we want to avoid any confrontations.”

-----

              They managed to get to their destination without any further interruptions from curious townsfolk.  Stan hurriedly dismounted his horse, Shanklin, then went to help Angie down from Daisy.

              “I’m more experienced at horseback than you,” Angie snapped.

              “You’ve also been dizzy the entire time we’ve been traveling,” Stan retorted.  “Last night, you almost fell on your face dismounting.”  Angie glared at him.  “I’m not gonna let my pregnant wife get hurt.”

              “Ugh.  Fine.”  Angie took the offered hand.  Stan noted silently that she did seem to be a bit off-balance as she set foot on the ground.

              But since she’s already pissed at me, it’s probably not a good idea to say “I told you so.”  Stan mentally thanked the hard work his tutors had put into teaching him how to keep his mouth shut instead of putting his foot in it.

              “Have you quickened yet?” Stan asked softly.  He placed a hand on Angie’s stomach, which had a slight swell to it.  Thankfully, her armor covered any hint of the pregnancy so far.  According to Angie’s estimations, she was a little over four months along; it had taken Stan longer than he wanted to set up the trip and get approval for it.  He’d been tempted to just take the trip without getting permission or even letting anyone know.  But the whole point of the trip was to avoid being noticed.  A prince and his knight disappearing would cause chaos throughout the entire kingdom.

              “No,” Angie replied, just as quietly.  “But any day now, it should happen.”  They had stopped at an apothecary a few towns over, so that Angie could get the herbs in case they decided to end the pregnancy.  Stan swallowed nervously. 

              “Then we better get this over with.”  They walked up to the door.  Angie knocked.  While they waited, Stan took ahold of Angie’s hand.  He squeezed comfortingly.  Angie squeezed back.  The door opened, revealing a middle-aged man with Angie’s nose and warm smile.

              “Banjey!” the man exclaimed.  “It’s such a delight to see my lil girl!”  Stan let go of Angie’s hand so she could embrace her father.  “Oh, have ya put on some weight?”

              “Pa!” Angie protested.

              “I ain’t opposed to that.  You’ve always been so thin!  Ya get it from yer ma’s side, y’know.”

              “Yes, you’ve told me ‘fore,” Angie said, rolling her eyes.  Mr. McGucket turned his attention to Stan.

              “This must be the young man you’ve wed without my blessin’,” he said, his voice still cheerful, but his eyes threatening.

              “Wh- how’d you know?” Stan asked.

              “I warned you,” Angie said.  “Word travels fast in a small town.”

              “We told one person.”

              “And she was the worst possible person to tell, if’n ya wanted to keep it a secret fer a bit longer,” Mr. McGucket said.  “Leighanne’s a nice young lady, but she tells her ma everything, and her ma can’t keep a single word to herself.”

              “Great,” Stan muttered.

              “Please, come in from the cold,” Mr. McGucket said, gesturing for the two to enter.  “Banjey, yer ma is in the kitchen.  We can discuss whatever ya wanted to discuss there.”  Stan followed Angie into the cozy but cramped house.  She led him into a kitchen, where a middle-aged woman was putting a kettle on the stove.  The woman turned to see who had entered.  It was immediately obvious that she was Angie’s mother.

              Angie might have gotten her nose from her father, but she got everything else from her mother, holy shit.  They look almost identical.

              “Sweetie, what a delightful surprise!” Mrs. McGucket cooed, wrapping her daughter in a warm hug.

              “It was a surprise until Leighanne’s ma told ya, at least,” Angie muttered.

              “Yes, I think we need to teach yer husband how these things work in small towns.”  Mrs. McGucket frowned.  “Banjolina, yer not with child, are ya?” she asked pointedly.  Stan broke into a cold sweat.  Angie, however, didn’t bat an eye.

              “Ma!” she exclaimed, sounding scandalized.

              “Sorry, my intuition’s just soundin’ off, sweetheart.  And I can count the number of times my intuition’s been wrong on one hand.”  Mrs. McGucket looked at Stan.  “…My intuition’s tellin’ me somethin’ else, too.”

              “Can we at least sit down?” Angie asked.

              “Oh, of course!”  Mrs. McGucket kissed Angie on the cheek.  The kettle began to whistle.  “I’ll pour some tea.”

              “Thank you,” Angie said.  She and Stan sat down at the kitchen table.  It was sturdy, if visibly old and used.  Stan ran his fingers along a name scratched into the wood.  “My brother Harper did that.”

              “I wish I was allowed to write my name on the table,” Stan muttered.  Mrs. McGucket placed a cup of tea in front of him and another in front of Angie.

              “Oh, he weren’t allowed.  He got in big trouble when we caught him,” she said firmly.  She placed two more cups of tea down across from Stan and Angie.  She sat down.  A few moments later, Mr. McGucket came into the kitchen and sat down next to his wife.  “If’n ya don’t mind, darlin’, I’d like to start.”  Angie and Mr. McGucket nodded.  Mrs. McGucket’s eyes met Stan’s squarely.  “Are ya a legitimized child?”

              “Oh, great,” Angie muttered, rubbing her forehead.

              “It’s an important question!  I understand yer husband is a knight already, but if he’s legitimized, then there are a lot of things we need to discuss.”

              “Ma, it’s not-”

              “What do you mean?” Stan asked.  Angie looked at him wearily.

              “My ma thinks what everyone we’ve come across has thought.”

              “Which is…?”

              “That yer a child of the king through an affair,” Angie said.  Stan’s jaw dropped.  “If yer an affair child, normally ya ain’t allowed to be in line fer the throne, but if the king decided to legitimize ya-”

              “I’d be a potential heir, yeah, I know,” Stan said.  He looked at the McGucket parents.  “I wasn’t legitimized.  ‘Cause I didn’t need to be.”

              “Elaborate, please, son,” Mr. McGucket said.

              “I’m not Sir Stan.  I’m Prince Stanley.”  Mrs. McGucket gasped, her hand covering her mouth.  Mr. McGucket turned pale.

              “A prince married a scullery maid?” Mrs. McGucket squeaked.

              “No.  A prince married a knight,” Angie said.  It was Mrs. McGucket’s turn to go pale.

              “Banjolina Quinn McGucket, you didn’t,” she scolded.

              “I did.”

              “You-”  Mrs. McGucket stood, her hands resting on the table, fury in her eyes.  “I explicitly told ya not to pursue knighthood!  A young lady don’t belong anywhere near that nonsense!”

              “Like I’ve ever cared where a young lady do or don’t belong!” Angie snapped, standing as well.  “It’s over and done with, anyways!”

              “Sally, Angie, sit down, please,” Mr. McGucket said.  His wife and daughter slowly sat.  “We won’t resolve anything like this.  And I don’t think we’ll make much headway askin’ more questions, neither.  We need to let Angie and her husband tell us the whole story.”

              “That’s gonna be the way to go, yeah,” Stan agreed.  He looked at Angie.  “Should you or I start?”

              “Yer the prince,” Angie said cheekily.  Stan rolled his eyes.

              “Fine.”  He turned back to the McGucket parents.  “It all started a few years ago, when I jumped out of my bedroom window to sneak out…”

[boyfridged]

hello! can i request some Jason centric fic recs?

this is actually such a difficult question. in spite of years spent reading jason-centric fanfics, it is very rare that i find something that i genuinely enjoy. still, i do have some favourites that i go back to.

beneficiary by @sirsparklepants (1/1, 2k)

my favourite post-death jay fanfic. it's such a beautiful, bitter-sweet conclusion to his legacy.

untitled by @pendulum-north (1/1)

this is a very short ficlet. absolutely riveting language, as expected of a poet. my favourite take on the canon divergence that is bruce dying instead of jason. would sell my soul for north to actually write more on it.

what the living do by Anonymous (1/1, 6,5k)

stunning. perhaps my all-time favourite. jason believes he's dead. dick takes him on a road trip.

complications by JHSC (1/1, 6k)

i want to tell you so badly why i adore this fanfic but that would spoil the conclusion. so instead i can just tell you that it contains my unpopular agenda for jason's character development.

the (family) doctor's appointment by smleeish (1/1, 4k)

i have some qualms with the minuatiae of this work but this sickfick surprised me with the depth of the character study. the conclusion is so beautiful in the way it gets to the core of jason's values.

jet black crow by starknjarvis (series, 2/2, 19k)

i normally avoid sex-worker aus so please do know that this had to really impress me to be found on this list. the main reason for which it winded up here is a conversation jason has with bruce in the second installment.

the clay steals the clay by zipadeea (1/1, 2,5k)

just give it a read. a haunting... fix-it. i think about the usage of catholic themes in this fanfic often.

PLUTO. by orpheusaki (@damianbugs) (1/1, 22k)

a huge reason for which i love this one so much is the thematic similarity to the earth-51 arc in countdown. there's such good understanding of what made jason who he is as the red hood & his relationship with batman as the symbol and with bruce as his father.

things that make it warm by one_step_closer_to_death (@hopeworth) (1/1, 4k)

my favourite jay & dick fanfic! if you've been following this blog for a while, you know i am very particular about their relationship. you also know that i believe in jason's need to reconnect with his childhood and that dick should be a part of it, and this piece delivers that in the sweetest way.

of broken, blazing wings by FrEShAVocaNoob (44/44, 190k)

before i get to the praise, i have to say that this fanfic does talia very dirty and that i am not a fan of how it deals with mentions of jason's childhood & his robin days. however, it is also 190k of jason having a perpetual mental breakdown and it follows canon event starting from the lost days and finishing with countdown. it has great pacing and an admirable balance of being plot-driven and the focus on character development. jay is so painfully young and lost. i also really enjoyed dick's attitude. it's a riot and an emotional rollercoaster. i will never recover from it.

compulsory (shameless) self-promotion:

leave no trace, a ficlet on ouroboros.

black out days, a lost days au which is not a story at all. about talia, jason, the need to mythologise and staying away.

and my wip robin (vol 2): future nostalgia, a jay lives au that is to contain follow major batman plotpoints such no man's land and murderer/fugitive.

[otwdfanfic]

Okay okay so i went to see the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes yesterday (and i loved it) and after your post about the Nuff lookalike, I got to thinking about the games themselves

How do you think would the otwd gang respond in the event of being thrown into the hungergames? Like how would they act, would they group up, who would take care of others, who would eventually win (and maybe how would that affect their psyche and mental state afterwards oop)

This is just a very interesting question to me and id love to hear your thoughts about it!! For me this has always been a way to build certain parts of characters that aren't necessarily shown in stories, but are still important to know as the hungergames often drive people to either their lowest lows or their highest compassion

Anyways

Yeah this franchise is just smt that always me thinking LMAO

Omgg this is a difficult question! Prev gen is quick and easy: Gustav is obviously a district 4 boy and very clever but easily gets in over his head so he'd probably befriend a Career pack or somehow form an alliance with Cato. Unlike our fav Career of the same name, Cato is extremely district 12 coded (all lucy gray's songs!!!!) and very unfriendly and independent haha so despite his hunting skill I think he'd be underestimated and unwilling to join a pack. If he was in the same game as Gustav, he might join him but then (when he begins to suspect that he's next on Gustav's list) stab him in the back (or the eye). Cato is likely winning any game they throw him in, but in an actual hunger games au his rage against the Capitol would make him a risky victor. He wouldn't be cooperative afterwards and that could get him killed.

I don't wanna get into the Hiccup gang bc that's too difficult haha but my bets are on Astrid. As for the kids, it's hard to think about district splits bc it messes up their family dynamics so I won't try to sort that out.

Baldur and Rilla are textbook Careers, well trained with most weapons. Baldur in particular can win over a crowd and he's less honorable than Rilla so I think he'd get far and probably stab her in the back. He usually overestimates himself though, and that's one of his major flaws.

Nuffink is a loner, he wouldn't trust anybody in the games. He's mostly avoiding others and hiding, I can also see him luring others into striking range and he's pretty feral when forced to fight. I'm thinking of Thresh from Katniss's games. He gets a favorite weapon in itpn but not one that's usually in the Games afaik. I think a Career pack would have the best chance of taking him down.

Zephyr would have a Katniss-like technique, a mix of hiding/surviving in the wild with traps and occasionally ambushing others. I can see her and Bjorn teaming up regardless of if they know each other. I don't see Zephyr winning, though, even if Bjorn was trying to protect her. Like Peeta, he's charming the Capitol, winning lots of sponsors and working well with other tributes. It's been mentioned only once or twice, but Bjorn has well rounded talent with most weapons. Particularly spears. And he'd be an ideal victor, "a real hero" like his playlist says. Someone who can manage to win the Games in an honorable way despite the odds. The part of itpn I'm most excited for involves Bjorn being challenged and pushed to his limits in a way that's spiritually similar, I cannot wait to write his plot!

Eret's odds aren't great I fear. She's better trained in plants and climbing than fighting, similar to Rue or Foxface. She'd definitely try to sneak around poisoning people. She'd also be good at charming the Capitol in a real au scenario. But I don't see her winning either, somebody ruthless like Baldur or Tryggir would get her :(

Tryggir is a Career pack type who relies on others to back him up (like how Coral led the others), but I don't think he'd work well with Baldur or Rilla, so if he joins them he's going down early (or managing to take Baldur out). Either that or stays a loner until they take him out anyway.

If Sikka was in their Games (despite her age) she'd have a good chance too. Super sneaky and clever, super good tracker, good at fighting, very Katniss like in skill and temperament. She'd have a good chance at taking Bjorn down too.

So I think it's a coin toss between Bjorn and Sikka, with Sikka maybe having better odds. Probably not what you were expecting since they've barely been involved in the plot so far! But they will be :) They'd both be able to cope with life post games in a mostly normal way, I think, and they'd be good mentors. Both would understand that doing what it takes to survive isn't their fault, it's the system they live in. And I think they're both ideal recruits for a rebellion :) Characters like Baldur and Tryggir would be shameless victors, gloating and reveling in the attention. Nuffink would be a wreck as usual and I think Zephyr would be drowning in guilt. Eret and Rilla would be more like Sikka and Bjorn if they won, though I think Eret and Sikka would be very private and try to disappear from public eye.

I would ask the same about your ocs but I don't wanna put poor Siri through that 😭 the kids though mayhaps?

[cno-inbminor]

iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

a/n: wow, it’s been fucking forever. first genshin fic featuring childe/tartaglia!!! a very huge thank you to @suspensin​ for reading this over and being my rock and support, and i love her so fucking much. I couldn’t have finished this without her!

plot: reincarnation and modern/uni!au ft. afab reader!traveler with she/they pronouns x childe/tartaglia 

-- in which meeting childe is a bit of a dangerous game of push and pull

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

warnings:  DOES CONTAIN IN-GAME SPOILERS (1.5? 1.6? + story quest and idek) and NSFW MENTIONS (mdni to be safe). there’s no explicit smut but thoughts do run a bit wild here and there

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

The shine in your eyes does nothing to hide your curiosity, head even tilting a little in observation. He watches them scan his face for any recognizable features, but attempts to focus on the strange, taut string of déjà vu that pulls him toward you. In a moment of absentmindedness, he had heard a faint voice call out his name from your direction. Confusion overtook him as you weren’t looking at him, but something inside his brain said that it had to be from you. And so his feet redirected his path towards your figure in the student union building, as if on a mission.

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

“I don’t think so…?” You trail off, curiosity now replaced by perplexed feelings. “Do we have a class together?”

I think I would’ve noticed you by now if you were.

“Ah, what’s your major?” Childe asks quickly to avoid listening to the little voice in his head.

“History and anthropology, you?”

“Economics, but I’ve taken a history course for core credits. Maybe it was then?”

“With Dr. Zhong?”

“Yes!” He snaps his fingers. Part of his brain decides to usefully function and scan his memories to see if he remembers your face or head of hair in the lecture hall then. “Last year? Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 to 11:20?”

“Actually, yeah,” you affirm in surprise. You think you would remember the relatively attractive ginger in your class, but honestly, it had all been such a blur and you were often pretty sleepy during class. Dr. Zhong didn’t quite appreciate it, but you made up for it with your exam and essay grades, as well as paying better attention in some of his other courses.

“Did you need me for anything?”

“I’d like for you to come visit and meet my family.”

He’s really not appreciating this extra voice speaking for him.

“Well…uh…” Childe stammers and looks away sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He honestly had no reason for approaching you, and now, he just looks like a desperate idiot. Think quick, he tells himself, floundering for some shitty excuse.

“I wanted to, uh, take another history course as an elective and um, wanted to know if you had any recommendations?”

“Oh,” you blink. That’s a first. When he meets your gaze, the swirling shades of sapphire strike something deep within you. Flashes of events you can’t make out go by in the blink of an eye, but then you realize you’ve been staring for too long. Blood rushes to your cheeks because you don’t exactly want this guy to get the wrong idea from you, because how are you supposed to explain, “I’m sorry, but I think we have met before, but just a really, really long time ago, and we might’ve been more than just acquaintances because that’s what it feels like?”

“I think you’d like Teyvat Mythology,” your voice wavers on the verge of cracking. “Dr. Zhong might have a TA this time around, but Xiao’s a great teacher. Doesn’t have long, rambling anecdotes, but explains things well and gets straight to the point.”

“C-cool, I’ll look into it,” Childe replies and smiles brightly. “I’ll head out then,” jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, where he just realized he left a grouchy Scaramouche waiting by a vending machine, newly purchased Starbucks Tripleshot drink in hand. “Nice seeing you, (y/n).”

He scurries off before you both realize that you never told him your name.

“Who’s that?” Scaramouche asks, jutting his chin in your vague direction.

“Someone from my Intro to Liyuean History course last year,” Childe waves off. “Come on, let’s go before the line at the pasta bar gets too long.”

-

The next time you see Childe is by accident, traversing across an open field of grass that many students like to sit out on to relax with friends, sunbathe, hold events, or play casual team sports if room permits.

You had your earbuds in and were scrolling through social media when laughter rang above all other sound, causing your head to snap up and swivel around to find the source. And while it might’ve been strange to an outsider, your steps immediately slowed as you watched the man of your tiring, vivid dreams sprint in your direction, eyes pinned on a frisbee heading towards him.

He’s wearing a grey sports tank and basketball shorts, headband holding back his bangs as he makes a slight jump in the air to catch the plastic disc between his palms. His feet plant into the grass as he looks for someone to pass it to, and you watch (with embarrassment) the muscles in his throwing arm relax and tighten with practice, frisbee steadily soaring through the air in a beautiful arc towards a teammate. He then lightly jogs to get closer to his group, but then his back stiffens.

Before your instincts kick in for you to turn and bail, he looks over his shoulder and stares straight at your now stunned self.

The sole ruby earring that glints in the sunlight catches your attention, and you recall your dreams of terrifyingly dark, violet electric power, blades of water rushing toward you, and then the stomach-churning sensation of falling from great heights pours concrete into your veins—

Childe looks a little amused for having your sole focus, hand lifting up for a quick wave. And as you numbly return the greeting, your heart beats out, “Run from him.”

And so with the flight response pulsing and firing from your synapses, you abruptly speed walk away, almost breaking out into a sprint towards your dorm. You ignore his pointed, confused look, and pretend you don’t feel the two holes of imaginary fire searing into your back. It isn’t until you’re laying back in bed that you release a huge sigh of relief and pray to a deity you don’t believe in that those eyes of mirth will not haunt you tonight.

But of course, with a deity that doesn’t exist, the prayers go unanswered.

-

“Do you believe in any of the mythology you teach?” You ask Xiao about a few days later when you stop by his cubicle. Luckily, no one else is around for this conversation, and Xiao has always been kind enough to humor your thoughts. Granted, he might feel obligated because you had asked Dr. Zhong to be your advisor for your undergraduate Honors thesis, and Xiao was directed to be your receiver of some general questions and source of information if he wasn’t around.

A quick scan of your complexion tells Xiao everything he needs to know. Your eyes are overtaken with rumination and exhaustion, haziness clouding them as you seem to ponder over your own question. It’s not often that you ask him anything not related to your thesis or coursework.

“Perhaps there’s some sense and truth to the tales passed down,” he softly muses. “What makes you ask?”

You lift yourself to sit on the clean area next to his computer, legs slowly swaying back and forth. “It might sound crazy but...I’ve been having dreams lately. They feel too real, too natural to be anything that my mind would make up. I’ve never had the most creative imagination by any means, which is why there’s some comfort to me being a history major, but I can’t shake these.”

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

“...the Archons are there. I even dreamt that I met the Geo and Anemo Archons. And they controlled various elements, just like we were taught.”

You don’t notice that Xiao has ceased his rapid typing, fingers hovering over the keyboard before one hand removes his glasses from his face. He uses the other to rub his eyes and softly pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding the frames back on. Dark, golden amber eyes survey you as you grapple with the unfathomable possibilities of your nightly visions, at least until you shake your head in disbelief at yourself and lightly scoff.

“Who am I kidding?” You ask no one in particular. “Maybe I’ve been doing too much research and everything’s mixing together.”

“You’re ahead of schedule, if that provides any consolation.”

“Some.”

-

It takes Childe a grand total of one minutes and 53 seconds to sign up for Teyvat Mythology for the spring semester.

-

WInter in Liyue is only slightly miserable, being so close to the ocean. It’s chillier than usual on this dreary day, yet something compelled you to exit your dorm and shakily make your way to the campus coffee shop for a warm drink. Coffee, hot chocolate, you haven’t quite decided yet, but just as you let yourself bask in the warm building, familiar ginger hair and blue eyes wash away the comfort.

Or do they douse you in security?

They remind you of your recent dreams that now have shifted away from stress and violence to easygoing summer days by the oceanside, running barefoot in the sand while collecting beautifully patterned azure starconches. Sometimes, you thrust a hand towards an oversized four-leaf clover on a wooden stake with the power of wind and catch yourself in the air, soaring and looking around to find more of the little shells. Other nights, they consist of climbing steep cliffs, only to sit at the edge in the clouds with fatigue wracking through your system and marvel at the view before you.

Someone’s always with you though, ruby earring and maroon mask and cobalt blue gem hanging from the waist, sprinting with you, playfully tackling you down, pulling you up towards mountain peaks, laying their head on your shoulders, brushing their lips against your cheek--

You welcome the change of peace in those dreams, but only because they don’t leave you quite as tired the next day, as if you’d been avoiding an inescapable dark force.

Part of you wants the burning question of why this person, this man, in all his glory and brightness, affects you so fucking much when you barely even know the guy -- why looking at him sends your heart to lodge itself in your esophagus, why your lungs feel like they’re so close to being completely collapsed under the weight of his stare, why feeling like you’re trapped and  caught between wanting to run towards yet away from him.  It makes no sense, and you’re tired of trying to make sense of anything you don’t exactly want to remember from your dreams for some, once again, inexplicable reason.

But there’s no time to think as he quickly ambles towards you, your own feet shuffling forward to meet him in a warped reference of a distance that constitutes to “the middle” before you can stop yourself. Your shivering hasn’t quite stopped yet, and Childe seems to take notice of it.

“Pretty cold out there,”  he softly states. It’s cute, the way you’re curling in on yourself to retain some warmth.

“Y-yeah, not sure why I decided I really needed something warm to drink right now,” you reply and avoid his gaze. He watches you peer over his shoulder to squint at the menu display hanging from the ceiling, seemingly contemplating on what you should get.

“How about I get yours today? My treat for your class recommendation last time.” Anything to keep you here longer. Childe doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you, which confuses him, and chooses to ignore the fact that he’d been camping himself at the study tables in the building where the history department is located in hopes of even just catching a quick glimpse of you.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you immediately attempt to subvert his generous offer, hands shooting out from your jacket pockets and waving in rejection. “It was nothing.”

“Please?” Childe puts on his best puppy eyes before reaching for one of your wrists, gently tugging you to the register. “Just this once?”

You want so badly to squash the tiny flare of disappointment that erupts in your chest from the newly acquired knowledge that this was just a one time thing. Do econ majors hate to feel in debt? That they must be even with everyone, or would rather have people indebted to them than the other way around?

There’s no time to think when Childe gives the cashier his order before turning to you, and without wanting to waste anyone’s time, you rattle off your usual beverage. He’s quick in fishing out his student ID to spend some of his campus currency, shooting you a boyish grin when you pout at your half-opened wallet.

“Go take that table over there,” he says, pointing to one in the corner by some windows. “I’m gonna tell my friends to go on without me.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude or pull you away from them,” you slightly panic. The sooner you can leave, the better. Right? “You don’t need to sit with me, I was just gonna head back to my dorm.”

“I insist. Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Why your brain takes his orders over your own is a mystery in and of itself, because before you know it, you’re plopped down in one of the lounge seats and staring off into space, mind reeling over the last two minutes. You pretend you can’t hear the way Childe’s friends nudge his arm playfully with their shoulders, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively as Childe tries to get them to stop being nonsensical.

“You’re gonna scare them off,” he hisses at them, hands pushing at their backs so they could finally leave him to his devices.

“Not before you do!” One of them laughs and Childe groans at their antics. “All right, all right, we’ll go. They’re cute though, might steal them if you don’t make a move.”

The darkening of the aura surrounding Childe is too quick for them to fully process, not before he dampens any of their fleeting hopes with a, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

But it disappears just as fast when his and your drinks are called out, and he gives them one last shove before retrieving your to-go cups. Childe directs all his focus towards the seat diagonally from yours as opposed to the one that’s straight across, and you’re sharply ripped away from whatever reverie you let yourself slip into.

“Thank you,” you murmur, hands cupping the drink and feeling the heat seep into your fingertips. “You really didn’t have to, it was nothing big.”

“Can you blame me for just trying to find an excuse to finally talk to you?” He asks without a skip and you can’t tell if the quickening of your heartbeat is from a looming sense of doom or excitement. Those eyes, the tiny swirls of the ocean, blue like those shells buried in the sand--

It takes three seconds too long for you to understand where he was going with in his words, and part of you feels unamused at his smooth talking. You’ve always guarded yourself against guys like Childe, devilishly handsome who know their way around language semantics, ready to pull you in and just as ready to push you away. That (possibly unfair) bias, coupled with everything else you’ve been feeling for him, sounded the alarms and set the walls up around your heart. Perhaps you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, because Childe immediately retracts his forwardness.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise I’m not looking for anything in return and you don’t owe me anything, but I really did just...want to sit and talk and...get to know you?” Childe trails off a little towards the end. Your body loosens up and relaxes just a tiny bit, feeling bad for your snap judgment. Let the guy do something nice, don’t look into it too much, you tell yourself. It’s a coffee, not a five-course dinner.

You reach out a hand towards him, small smile across your lips, ready for his to join yours in a quick handshake. “I’m (y/n), senior history and anthropology double major. It’s nice to meet you.”

The pounding of your heart against your ribcage has nothing to do with the shimmering of his eyes, nothing to do with the fact that his hand fits with yours just right, and nothing to do with the fact that an eerily similar voice from your dreams whispers, “I love you.”

You learn a number of things about Tartaglia in the four hours, like his family members and their respective interests, which classes he did and didn’t enjoy taking, certain takes on Schnezhnayan politics, his own various hobbies, crazy accidents from the occasional college parties, and more. He’s a bit of an open book, probably telling you way more than any regular person would, and definitely more than anything you revealed during all this time. Everything you tell him seems surface level, nothing too deep. The walls are still there to protect you from the unexplainable, profound feelings his presence seems to elicit, and luckily, he doesn’t prod any further. Childe feels the resistance and respects it, which just adds more brownie points in your book, and you almost feel bad for having given so little in return.

“I wish we were taking Teyvat Myth together,” he sighs when walking you back to your dorm, hands stuffed in his pockets. His ruby earring catches the light from the sunset, the shade almost complimentary to the golden amber rays that streak across the sky. “Would’ve helped having a history major in there.”

“Is that all I am to you, an answer bank?” You jokingly ask, but he watches concerningly as you shoot your gaze to the ground, mindfully stepping over the cracks between concrete slabs.

“Of course not,” a gentle sincerity reaches you, giving you the confidence to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for making it sound like that, it wasn’t my intention. I really just meant it as a way of saying if the professor or TA ended up being a total bore, then well, having you would make it more fun.”

“I’m sure I’d bore you even more,” chuckling, speeding up to get away. You’re growing too comfortable in whatever atmosphere Childe has created, like an enclosed air bubble bobbing gently in the depths of the sea and letting the waves carry you both to whichever ends of the earth.

“Hey,” he interjects, hand reaching out to stop you with a soft yank of your wrist. There is no resisting force from you, feet stepping backward until he meets you eye to eye. It’s unfair in the way that he can render you motionless by standing just an inch from you, arms brushing with his head tilted closer to your own. “Seriously, I’m glad we did this today. Are you?”

No, because now I don’t know what to think, I don’t know who you are, I’m not any closer to figuring out why you terrify yet leave me so enamoured with you, I’m torn between punching and kissing you and--

“Yes,” you subconsciously answer, brain immediately short-circuiting to scold yourself. “I had fun.”

His grin, charming, devilish, is so so bright, bright enough to rival the Liyue sun that sits on the pier, on the edge of the ocean, bright enough to rival the love that your fraternal twin showers you with on a daily basis. You want time to stop right here because you’re almost sick of the voice settled deep within your heart that screams, “Don’t get comfortable, you must run from him!”

“Good. Let’s do this again?” And you nod, of course you do. Foolish you. “Don’t be a stranger!” He calls out as he turns on his heel and waves over his shoulder, hand raised in the air, and you’re suddenly transported to another scene, a less refined version of the Liyue Harbor, watching as the head of ginger hair with a red mask in a flashier attire of grey and maroon walks away from you and onto a roaring, magnificent ship; big, ivory sails only seen in books and museums. It’s the same gesture of “see you later”, and just before he turns, you blink, and you’re back to seeing your campus again.

But Childe does look back once, warm and content that you’re still standing there, watching over him, and he can’t help but think about when he can spend time with you again, because suddenly, it truly feels like there’s not enough of it anymore.

-

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

The last thing, or person rather, you expect to see on the last day of finals for the fall semester, is a small boy who looks way too young to be here, tugging on the sleeve of your windbreaker. He’s at most eleven, ten maybe, but he has eerily similar characteristics, as well as an accent that doesn’t quite belong to most Liyue natives. Still gathering your bearings from your own perusing of the fridges that hold all the possible beverages a college student could consume, you kneel down until you’re at eye level with the child.

“Repeat that for me? Are you looking for a Red Bull, you say?”

“Yes!” He beams and holds out a student ID that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. “My brother asked me to grab him one because he was busy with something.”

Your eyes flit over to the top shelves where the aforementioned cans of caffeine are located, and definitely too high for someone of his height to reach. “I’ll grab one for you. Did he ask for a specific flavor?”

“Nope, he said regular. Thanks, you’re really nice! Do you know my brother?” He asks, waving the ID at you so you can get a better look at the name. That’s definitely a face you recognize, but the name leaves you confused.

“Yeah, um,” glance over again, “I know...Ajax…”

“He’s the best toy seller in the whole world!”

Somehow, it suits him much better than Childe or Tartaglia, and you’re not quite sure what toys have anything to do with the matter at hand. Speaking of hands, the little boy grabs yours in sheer delight. “Can you take me back to his room? I kinda forgot the directions he told me, and everything’s so big around here.”

“Sure, just let me buy something, too, and I’ll take you.”

“Okay!”

The cashier isn’t the least bit fazed by the little brunette at your side -- it’s always common for family members to come in around the end of semesters to pick up kids or visit, and being an open building with snacks and drinks and a stopping point of most tours, they’ve seen it all. You even let him pick out a bag of chips and a candy bar for himself for being so polite and not a complete menace, paying with your own campus currency.

Teucer, as you’ve learned in the last two minutes, likes to point out things and ask you questions. Luckily, you have answers to most of them and do your best to pad the time, enjoying the feeling of a tiny hand wrapped around three of your fingers. It’s sweet to any normal passerby, believing they’re witnessing an older sister doting on their little brother around the holidays, but to Childe, seeing the tender sweetness on your face as you nod along to whatever Teucer is rambling about to you, sets his heart aflame. He’s already constantly on the verge of wanting to hug and kiss you and never let go, but you haven’t made any indication that you could potentially like him back, and this is just torture.

“Look what they bought me!” Teucer shoves his rewards in Childe’s face as if he had extremely poor eyesight, and you can’t help but laugh a little as you set his Red Bull down on his desk, clutching your own preferred beverage while looking around his room. Finals must have gotten to him with the unusual lack of tidiness in the small space, some laundry strewn here and there, a couple boxes of eaten microwave dinners in the metal wire trash can, some textbooks left open and marked with more sticky notes than you’ve ever seen. You’d only been here once before to drop off some food that he desperately messaged you about, stuck doing a project that he just couldn’t step away from.

“Pretend you don’t see the mess,” Childe pleads, handing a kid tablet to his brother but holding on before Teucer can take it. “What do you say to our nice friend here for buying you these snacks?”

“Thank you!”

“It was nothing,” you shyly smile, ruffling his hair. “I enjoyed meeting you.”

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

Teucer trails off and gives a look to his brother, one that spells curiosity and trouble, before he grabs your hand and pulls you into a corner. Any movement Childe makes to leave his desk chair is immediately squashed by Teucer’s disapproval, and the older man is left to helplessly worry when you’re told to squat down so secrets can be whispered into your ear.

“He talks about you a lot whenever he calls home,” and you want to laugh at Tecuer’s attempt to sound as scandalous as possible. “All the time! I think he likes you, like, like like.”

Oh. Oh dear.

“What makes you say that?” You whisper back, indulging both yourself and him, yet also internally snickering at how troubled Childe looks.

“Sometimes, he video calls mama, but we’ll all sit around and talk, and whenever he’s talking about how he saw you or something, he just looks...happy. Really happy.”

The surprise on your face does nothing to settle Childe’s nerves and he’s about to start wringing his hands together. Whatever Teucer was telling you couldn’t be good, probably embarrassing, like the one time he unceremoniously fell on his ass while ice skating over a frozen lake, or when he tried fitting fifteen marshmallows in his mouth and nearly choked on them when their mother caught them in the act, or--

“I think he just thinks of me as a good friend,” you try to inform Teucer, not letting yourself get any semblance of hope. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“If you say so,” Teucer pouts. But then he stops whispering and bounds over back to his brother, grabbing the tablet before plopping down on the half-made bed.

“Look, I was overconfident and thought I could execute a perfect single loop on the ice, but there was a rock and I lost balance and--”

“I wasn’t being told any stories about you falling on ice, but do tell me more,” you chuckle and take some joy in watching the blush spread across his cheeks. It’s easy to tell that he’s mentally berating himself for jumping to conclusions.

“Well, first off, thanks for buying him all that, and my drink, too,” he sighs. “I spoil him enough as it is.”

“I can see why it’s hard not to,” you smile knowingly. “So is it just him here? Where’s the rest of your family?”

“Funny story, he somehow managed to convince my parents to let him come here on his own as his first ever plane flight, so I had to pick him up yesterday from the airport. He’s flying back with me tomorrow.”

“And the RA?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Ah...well...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him? Speaking of, what was Teucer whispering to you about?”

There’s a pensiveness that overtakes you when you look at Teucer again, who’s happily playing some sort of game and completely oblivious to the rest of his surroundings. You won’t, can’t, take his words to heart, and will take them with a grain of salt at most.

“Nothing important. Although I did learn something new...Ajax?”

“Say my name -- fuck, say it, please--”

“I guess cat’s out of the bag,” he chuckles and looks away, absolutely unaware of the flare of heat that swirls in your stomach from the fleeting vision just now. “I came up with other nicknames as a kid to seem cooler, and they just stuck with me. Plus, the business world is full of people who just want something from you, or just a transactional relationship. I’d rather not give my real name to them, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s fair,” you nod and lean to sit on the edge of his desk. A thought pops into your head and you turn the words over in your head like a washing machine on the spin setting, teeth gnawing on the flesh of your bottom lip. If Teucer hadn’t been in the room, he would’ve been this close to kissing you.

“But if it’s worth anything,” your voice slowly, softly starts, cautious and wary of your thoughts. “I think...Ajax suits you best.”

Curse fate. Curse the legendary Archons. Curse karma and deities and spirits because all he wants to do right now is stand and tower over you, trap you between himself and his desk so you can’t escape, take those pretty lips between his until they’re bruised and swollen because of him, hear you call out his name in the throes of pleasure so he can finally replace his fantasies with tangible memories. The unnatural, magnetic pull that draws him to you is unbearable now -- he feels like he’ll lose the last tendrils of his sanity if he doesn’t do something.

You can’t stop him from slowly reaching out to grab one of your hands, lifting it towards him until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your knuckles. It sends a shiver down your spine and blood is pounding in your ears because you can’t begin to fathom what he’s thinking about while doing this, even more so when his lips make contact with your skin and your breath hitches, stuck in your throat as he languidly peeks at you beneath his eyelashes with a heated gaze, then lowly confessing, “My name sounds best when you say it.”

Good heavens.

It’s difficult to swallow and keep your composure, especially when Teucer yells out in glee over, what you can assume, beating something in his game, and Childe drops your hand. But his dilated pupils don’t retract in the slightest, refusing to let you look away so that maybe, you can understand what he’s trying to convey to you. He’s taking the first step because he’s terrible and can’t contain his self-control anymore, pushing the ball into your court, ready for you to either play or exit into the sidelines.

When you do blink, there’s a vision of your naked body wrapped around another, limbs clinging desperately to a sturdy and panting frame. Lips, much like the ones that have seared themselves onto your knuckles, are at your neck and sucking, biting, before moving to your ear and laying filthy words into them that drive you closer to the edge. It all happens so fast that you feel you’ve just experienced whiplash, yet also feeling secondhand embarrassment at how lewd some of these thoughts have been.

You can’t stay here any longer.

“I-I have to go,” spills off your tongue before you can really think about it. The way the haze shatters in his eyes is heartbreaking in its own way, but there’s no time for you to explain. Your brain is in overdrive and eager to run, run, run. It detects danger on all fronts, but you muster out a, “H-have a good break, come find me next semester, mmk?”

And you’re out the door with inhuman speed. When the door clicks shut, only then does Teucer look up from his screen and frown at the lack of your presence. “Where’d they go?”

Chlide doesn’t seem to hear him, and Teucer has never seen his big brother look so sad and confused before.

-

He holds on to that last tendril of hope, because mark his words, he will find you come January.

-

After about a week at home, enjoying the festive time with his family and mildly unconcerned about next year’s courses because that was a problem for another day, Childe has his first, crazy, nonsensical dream.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when he snaps awake and his body aches with exhaustion. Not only are his joints in agony, he also feels like he’s sporting unforeseen bruises, which makes absolutely no sense because he hasn’t done anything that would warrant them, no matter how much he and his brothers do some rough-housing. His night of sleep was all consumed by flashes and scenes of weapon fighting, lucid enough to remember feeling his arms flex and wield bows and double-headed polearms and being cognizant of all the enemies??? surrounding him. They ranged from deranged looking monsters, floating beings with soulless masks, and large humans in electricity-padded armor, to behemoth machines in the sky that could leave you within an inch of your life thanks to a drill for a hand?!

But what’s even worse is that you seem to have managed a deal with Morpheus himself and infiltrated his dreams. You were there, too, sometimes fighting with him, sometimes against him, much to his dismay, and while it was nice, he just didn’t get it. Why the friendliness and hostility? Why was there an anger that overtook him when looking directly at you, parrying your blade and sending harmful arcs of water toward your figure?

Why did he relish the fear in your eyes when he darted towards you with electricity cracking through the air?

There’s an overwhelming sensation now to grab his phone to text you and apologize -- for what, he can’t fathom and there are no words to accurately convey what he’s thinking. “Hey, sorry for wanting to kill you in my dream :( “? Or “Sorry for being a friend but then stabbing you in the back, but then being nice to you again”?

And the only thing that really made sense was the serenity and contentment that would course through his veins as the two of you danced around on ivory sandy beaches, picking up shiny blue starconches and taking down more weird creatures; the breathlessness when you would fall back into the water and re-emerge to reconfirm his beliefs that you were one of the most beautiful humans he’d ever laid his eyes on; the love--

Hold the fuck up.

He doesn’t love you. He likes you a whole lot and he’s severely and deathly attracted to you, but he doesn’t love you. Your existence has only been made known to him for about two months, and he didn’t really start talking to you until three weeks in. So no matter how comfortable he feels with you, no matter how much he wishes that you were sleeping peacefully next to him so his nights wouldn’t feel so lonely, it was too early, too hasty, to say that he loves you.

“I’ve been wondering, why didn’t you bring them home?” His mother asks him out of nowhere during breakfast, all to add to this extremely tumultuous roller-coaster morning he’s been having. All he wants to do is eat his bowl of milk and cereal, then potentially go back to sleep before fulfilling his promise to go with his siblings to the nearby skating rink. It takes everything in him to not choke on his spoon of grains.

“Agreed, didn’t you mention they didn’t really have any family to go back to and that the move to Liyue was semi-permanent?” His father chimes in, laying a quick peck on his wife’s temple. “It’s never fun to spend the holidays alone.”

“They would’ve felt like they were intruding,” Childe replies quietly, stabbing his bowl a few times before scooping up another spoonful of cereal to his mouth. “I know we’re friends, but we haven’t known each other for that long, and maybe they’d be uncomfortable because that’s a lot honestly…”

“You don’t know until you try,” his mother sings and pats him on the shoulder. “We do have a guest room after all.”

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

Childe smiles fondly at his parents’ kindness. He can only imagine what this winter break would’ve been like now -- you and your twin floating around, trying to help out with certain chores, sitting by the fireplace and watching TV, huddled up with mugs of hot chocolate, playing board games with everyone and engaging in all the shenanigans…

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

Handing over one of his hoodies to you as a sick way of torturing yet blessing himself for seeing how lovely you look in his clothes, standing silently in the doorway as you attempt to help out with mealtimes next to his mother, watching you run around in the backyard and dodging his siblings’ snowballs while lodging a few of your own -- how wonderful it all would be.

But he squashes it down as quickly as possible, because you escaped his grasp. You ran away from his advances temporarily and even though you gave him permission to seek you out come the spring semester, he worries that you might take it back. Something will wake up inside of you to keep him out of your heart and your life, and he’s not confident enough at this point to believe there’s a good chance you will come spend the holidays with him and his family next year.

“Maybe next year, ma,” he sends her a hesitant, yet somewhat broken purse of his lips that’s just the least bit curved. It tells her everything he’s thinking, and the quick patting of his cheek lets him know she understands.

Half an hour later, Childe finds himself curled up on his side under the sheets, phone in hand as he stares at a blinking cursor. It shouldn’t be so hard to send a text to convey his holiday greetings, because that’s all it is -- part of him is becoming desperate and aching for some interaction with you, even if it’s just a text sent back for conventional social pleasantries. He’ll take it for now, right?

Before he can totally chicken out, his thumbs quickly type a, “Happy Holidays, (y/n) :)”, and it’s a little embarrassing how quickly after he hits the ‘send’ button that he tosses it over his shoulder so he’s not directly looking at it anymore. His heartbeat is too quick and he prays for no phantom vibrations or phantom sound notifications to avoid any disappointment of thinking he got a reply. It was a harmless text, yet he’s treating it like he just got assigned on a mission to go and murder someone for the first time. What will he do if you never text him back? Does that mean you really don’t want to talk to him? Are you dead in a ditch somewhere? Did you change numbers and not tell him? Did your twin get all the details and make the executive decision to block his number? Will he never get a chance to talk to you again, even if it’s about something in the Teyvat Mythology class next semester? Will you--

His shoulder screams in protest when he quickly flips himself over at the text notification sound, hands shakily unlocking his phone and opening up your conversation again. His heart rate significantly decreases, reaching back to its normal pace, especially as he reads the little words on his screen.

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

-

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

You’re huddled under the comforter of your twin’s bed, phone just peeking above the edge as you stare at it with a brightness in your eyes. For the most part, you had been sulking there, apart from meals and going back to your own room to sleep, and mentally berating yourself for the way you reacted to Childe the week before.

“He just texted me to say happy holidays,” shrugging to put on a facade of indifference. It’s stupid that you’re trying to hide your feelings from your twin of all people, who could pick apart and identify your emotions in a heartbeat. A roll of his eyes lets you know that you haven’t fooled him at all.

“So you think that whatever comment he made, which was very suggestive and indicative of clearly non-platonic feelings, was just something...friendly? Remind me again how you came to that conclusion?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking!” You whine, looking around to see if there was anything you could toss at him. “It’s just, with everything, all the dreams and stupid gut feelings, I just -- I don’t know, okay?? I can’t tell you enough how much I wish I had just kissed his stupid face and see where it goes from there.”

“Okay, gross, but don’t beat yourself up. Though...I do have a good idea on how to maybe get a good reaction out of him. You wanna go to the New Years’ celebration at Xiangling’s?”

“I think she’d threaten me with a knife if I didn’t. She wanted to go shopping at some point, too.”

“I’ll drop the overprotective brother act for one night, okay? One night, just to let this happen, and for your peace of mind.”

He does a fair amount of conspiring with Xiangling, a friend they met one time at a restaurant a couple years ago, even tagging along on the shopping trip. Together, the three of you find yourself a dress that Xiangling swears would make any person drool over you, including Childe, because at the end of the day, he was a person with the possibility of being attracted to you.

You think it’s a bit silly, but honestly, what do you have to lose at this point?

-

At 11:57PM on New Years’ Eve, Childe is standing outside in the freezing cold with his family, arms lifting up bags of sparklers and fireworks. They’ve driven out closer to the wild like they do every year, and everybody excitedly gets lighters ready, making sure someone’s got a clock out there that tells the seconds. As the younger kids open up the packaging and argue over which one to set off first, Childe’s phone vibrates in his coat pocket.

It’s 11:58PM when he manages to fish the device out and thank himself for buying gloves that are touch-screen friendly, excited to see that there are two texts from you, the latter reading, “Happy New Year!”. It doesn’t matter that you’re a little early, but he’s mainly intrigued by the fact a photo came before it. In his mind, you’re probably curled up with your twin brother, hopefully a selfie because wow, he misses your face.

He gets something else instead, and he is so glad that it’s dark outside and the electric lamp they have is too far away from him to draw any attention.

You have your arm around your brother’s waist and another girl’s that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s a full frontal view of your outfit, one that hugs your curves beautifully and shows more cleavage than he’s ever seen from you, sophisticated and elegant, yet fun and leaving enough to the imagination. There’s a bright smile coming from all of you, and you look like you’re at someone’s house or apartment with plenty of other people milling around in the back, but they don’t matter, not when all he can focus on is you.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, arousing, mind blowing, and gods, he wishes he could teleport to Liyue at this moment, find you, and kiss you right at midnight. Fuck the fact that he doesn’t exactly believe in superstitions like, “Kissing your significant other at midnight means you’ll last forever!” but he’s willing to take the chance with it on this night and the ones after, if he’s allowed. He tries not to think too much about pinning you against the wall and letting the world dissolve -- wants to be the one with the privilege to drag down that zipper and feel his bare skin on yours, and --

As Teucer starts yelling there’s only a minute left, he instinctively locks his phone and shoves it away out of anyone’s view. The last thing he needs is his family teasing him about ogling at your photo for a straight 50 seconds, wide-eyed and pupils on the verge of dilating, the visible breath leaving his mouth just a smudge more dense and prominent than usual.

The only thing he can do to distract himself from popping a boner in front of his parents is to join in on the countdown, making sure all the fireworks are set up correctly and grabbing a sparkler for himself. He waves it around with Tonia and promises to fulfill her wishes of taking one of those pictures right as she draws a pattern in the air. Their excitement is palpable and addicting, and even though the larger fireworks set off a few seconds after midnight hits, the nostalgia fills his lungs with fond memories and future wishes that they only continue this tradition for as long as possible, and hopefully, with you at his side.

-

When it’s 12:04AM, you get a picture message back of Childe bundled up in a black paletot coat, matching beanie and all, a gloved hand holding a sparkler and lips curved upwards, with a caption that says, “Happy New Year’s! See you soon :)”. You show it to Xiangling and your brother, both taking it as a win in their books, although the former does tipsily protest that there should be a better indicator of Childe’s brain breaking at how amazing you look right now. Maybe she’s prophetic, because another text chimes in and the words set you aflame, as well as suggestive whoops into your ears.

It’s a simple, “You look incredible btw”.

If you didn’t want to properly savor this moment, you would’ve found the nearest shot of the strongest liquor and tossed it back with abandon. But you want to remember the warmth in your veins that wasn’t from the alcohol or the heating, the fluttering of your heartbeat, the teeth-baring grin that you couldn’t fight off, the constant re-reading of those four words -- because they’re so different from everything you had been feeling before with him, the need for protection, the need to escape. Instead, you’d like to be in his arms right now and see for yourself how he’d look at you in this moment, and if he would take any action.

You want him to. So, so bad.

-

Childe spends his last week at home hating the fact that you’re just sitting around somewhere in Liyue, doing whatever you’re doing, probably doing some light preparation for your last semester of classes, and he’s not there to take advantage of all this free time and hang out with you. When classes start, it’ll be busy and hectic. You still have your thesis to finish and revise, and while that won’t eat up all your time, it’s still some that he’d want to fill in with his presence if he could. He debates whether or not he should ask for your schedule and compare it with his, maybe set up meetings every other day or propose that they all eat one meal together every day. Childe’s not quite sure of what you plan to do after graduation, as it hasn’t come up in conversation yet, but either way, he’s determined to stay in contact and make things work out. Long distance isn’t ideal, but with technology now, he’ll take it.

He feels a little bad for how excited he probably looked to be leaving home, uncharacteristic for the most part. His older siblings have already gone back to their respective homes, and it’s mainly Teucer and Tonia that worry and tear up when he starts packing his belongings. Tonia finds it unfair that Teucer got to meet you first and the latter makes sure to rub it into everyone’s faces. It’s hard for Childe to sleep on the plane because he’s thrumming with excitement, yet somehow even more nervous than usual when the plane hits small bouts of turbulence, and he doesn’t seem to relax until he sets foot back on campus.

He’s here. It’s January, and you’re physically closer to him than ever in the last two weeks.

-

“Found you.”

On the first day of classes, you’re sitting alone with some salad greens in a bowl, poking your fork at some scraps while you watch something on your phone, earbuds in and back towards the entrance of the canteen. It would explain the unannounced entrance of the very person who’s been at the forefront of nearly every thought in the last 96 hours, his fingers gingerly removing an earbud to surprise you as best as possible, and you startle in your seat.

Your heart kicks into overdrive when he hands you back your earbud and pulls out the seat next to you, setting his own plate of food down as he plops down in his chair. But then he says nothing afterwards, instead choosing to send you a cheeky grin before digging in. You’re left to slowly phase out of your state of shock, stuck between either running away or frantically texting your twin to come and save you even though he was off on a date with Keqing.

It’s not that you weren’t elated at the fact that Childe had done exactly as you told him last month, you just weren’t...prepared? It’s a shitty excuse and a cop out -- you’re mainly just having trouble with racking your brain to find the right words. What are you supposed to say? What should you do? Is it socially acceptable to lean over and kiss him on the cheek because that’s what you’d like to impulsively do at this very second??

“So you did,” you settle and steal a roasted potato wedge from his plate. It’s his turn to be taken by surprise, but he gets over it much quicker than you do. In fact, he spears two wedges and drops them in your bowl, smiling at you as best as he can with a mouth full of food. You give them your thanks before the silence settles in again.

“Did you have a good break?” He asks before his next bite.

“I did. You?”

“It was nice. My parents said I should’ve brought you and your twin home to spend the holidays with us. Can’t say it didn’t cross my mind before finals.”

Holy shit, what? “We couldn’t intrude like that, but that’s really nice of you guys.”

“That’s okay, there’s plenty of chances to visit later.”

You tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “But we graduate this semester?”

Childe challenges you with one of his own eyebrows raised. “And? Are we never gonna see each other again?”

Honestly, the possibility had occurred to you. You aren’t entirely sure of Childe’s plans after graduation, and if that meant he was staying in Liyue or going back to Snezhnaya or even moving to Inazuma or Mondstat. While people preach on and on about how lasting friendships and relationships are often formed during college, you believe it’s more common to slowly drift apart as life gets busier. And if Childe moved away, or if you did, it’d be hard to consistently keep in touch with 10 hour workdays.

The thought saddens you, regardless. You like him so much and you’re glad that he was even in your life to begin with, because as unbelievable as it sounds, seeing him was almost akin to the feeling of coming home. Amidst all your nerves, your confusion, your spiraling thoughts, something deeply sated in your heart was a comfort that you found with very few people in your life whenever in his presence.

The thought of leaving and never looking back somehow doesn’t feel new -- it’s bittersweet, but the air in your lungs feels like it’s surrendered to something, like it was to be expected.

“You can’t just leave without telling me--”

“It was last minute! I had no choice!”

“You could’ve written up a message, anything--”

“Can you imagine the position you’d be in if the message got intercepted? I wouldn’t have been safe, she’d make you come after me--”

“As if you’d be any safer in Inazuma of all places! That’s the one place I can’t easily get to!”

“I can take care of myself, Childe, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“This isn’t about me protecting you, (y/n) and -- stop walking, will you?!”

“Then what is this about?” You spin on your wheel with eyes aflame. “Why are you so angry with me? It’s normal for me to disappear for weeks at a time, why was this any different?”

“Because you could’ve died!” He yells back in despair, chest heaving. Your silence is his cue to continue. “You could’ve died and I wouldn’t have known until much later. You could’ve died and all I’d ever think about were the things I never got to say to you, and how I wish I had treated every day with you like it was our last.”

It isn’t hard to tell that you’re stunned and at a complete loss for words. Childe often hides behind facades of charm and wit, and only when he is truly weak does he choose to be this vulnerable, baring his heart for you to see.

“I only have two nightmares in this world. One, my family being harmed in any way. Two, reading in a report or hearing from an agent that you’ve been captured and killed.”

“I like to think that we will.”

His hand reaches out to lay on top of yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “Well, let’s make the most of it this semester.”

Conversation afterwards is easy, filling each other in on holiday activities. Childe speaks extensively about several family traditions and you listen with rapt attention, basking in how fond he is of all of them. Even as you both bring your dishes to the return belt and leave, he immediately offers to drive you both somewhere to get boba, noticing your reluctance to part ways. But boba shops have to close, and you both have class tomorrow morning, and you’re both finding any excuse to keep talking, even if that means sitting outside your dorm building on a nearby bench.

You eventually bid each other good night’s and see you later’s, him refusing to walk away until the heavy door locks shut behind you after you swipe your student ID, and you looking over your shoulder to watch his figure disappear into the night.

-

True to his intentions, Childe makes great efforts to meet you at least once a day, and he can’t get enough. Each parting from you tugs and tugs at his heart, as if there’s a high possibility you’ll never want to see him again the next day, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Your twin and Childe get along well for the most part, and he even meets Xiangling on one of her shifts at her regular restaurant, who sends you a salacious wink and an eyebrow wiggle over his shoulder that nearly causes you to burst from embarrassment.

February rolls over without a hitch, even if you’re a little disappointed that Childe didn’t make a move for Valentine’s Day. Granted, you two still spent time with each other and he’s so darn physically affectionate and he bought you a carnation from the event his dorm held, but you wish you had the guts to fess up and just kiss the man.

It’ll happen some day, you tell yourself. You have time before graduation.

Two days before the end of the Friday that would signal the start of Spring Break, you wake up in a cold sweat, mind reeling and head splitting, heart so so heavy, as a connection is made between your present and your dreams. Not long after, there are tears streaming silently down your face and into your open palms placed in your lap, and you sit in shock as everything comes back to you. Memories are such treasured burdens, you realize.

For the most part, you had gotten used to the dreams, choosing to take charge of what you know and feel now with Childe over succumbing to some strange neurological premonitions. Especially in your dreams when many people’s faces were blurred over and hazy, and the only things you could rely on were voices, touch, and other physical features. You thought that maybe your mind was just playing tricks by transposing Childe’s hair onto a body that was also strikingly similar to his, but for the first time last night, you could see each defining feature on his face as clear as day.

The sight of his figure arching gracefully over yours, the water arrows that appeared out of thin air, the back that protected you from some military men, the voice that said, “Hey girlie, hold still.”

And that was when you had snapped awake to your current state.

Past the initial shock and uncontrollable tears, you soon bent over as sobs wracked your chest, overwhelmed by all the emotions and the pain the memories brought you; losing your twin, finding him to only be left with even more questions after roaming for decades and decades, meeting all your loved ones throughout Mondstat and Liyue, fighting yet falling so hard for Childe, feeling the fear when facing his Foul Legacy form, hating him for Osial, loving him, breathing heavily as the tip of your blade was pointed at his neck and his own just centimeters from yours, tendrils of water inching closer and closer--

Everything makes sense now.

When you meet your twin for lunch at the cafeteria, you pay no mind to the fact that you’re in public and hug him harder than you ever have in years. He’s already a little alarmed that your eyes seem swollen and you look like finals came two months early, but when he asks what’s wrong, all he gets is a shake of your head and nothing more than, “Just a bad nightmare. I love you, y’know that?”

“I love you too?”

“Don’t sound so unsure, now let’s go and get in line before they run out of Jueyun Chili Chicken.”

Even when you meet Xiao later in the early evening to talk about your thesis, you find yourself holding back more tears just two minutes in, reminded of his past and his own life, and he’s moderately concerned, hesitantly handing you a tissue from the corner of his desk when a stray tear escapes. “Is everything okay?” He hesitantly asks, really hoping that he didn’t do anything to make you cry.

“No,” you almost wail and sniffle while dabbing at your eyes. “Sorry, it’s just been a really long day.”

Xiao’s inquisitive gaze softens, remembering how hard undergraduate life could be sometimes. Graduate school was a whole other level, but that shouldn’t discount your own personal difficulties. Plus, in all of the year and a half that he’s known you, you’ve never broken down like this before in front of him.

“You work really hard, Xiao,” you continue, and he’s not sure where this is coming from. “You’re always so helpful and willing to work with me and answer my stupid questions and like-- you practice self-care, right?”

Xiao nods as a white lie, but it seems to comfort you. Maybe too much because you pull him in for a quick and unexpected hug, and you both decide to reschedule this meeting for tomorrow.

As per usual, you wait for Childe to join you for dinner since you finished up earlier than expected. It gives you more time to think about everyone from Mondstat -- Kaeya, Diluc, Lisa, Jean, Amber...funny to think that some things never changed as you compared their past version to the ones you know now.

“Mora for your thoughts?”

There’s a peace that warms your heart when you hear Childe’s voice, one that forces you to smile at him as he sits down next to you. “Just thinking about old friends.”

“I have to admit, I’ll be a little jealous if it’s another guy taking up more space than me in that pretty brain of yours.”

What a flirt. This man isn’t good for your heart. “Who said you had any to begin with?”

He dramatically places a hand over his heart. “You wound me, (y/n). How will I ever recover?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you snicker. Childe reaches over to pinch your cheek and you bat at him in protest. Easily, he grabs one of your hands and simply pulls you towards the food lines, knowing that you’ll stop fighting back soon.

Part of it feels strange now to feel and see his hands with no leather gloves on.

“Childe,” you start halfway through your meal, continuing after he hums back in reply. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

He freezes briefly, but recovers so quickly that if you hadn’t been watching so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed. “I think it’s neat, the idea of having past lives. Why do you ask?”

What he really wants to ask is if you’ve been having those dreams, too; if he’s starring in your nights like you have been in his.

“Just a thought, especially since you’re taking Teyvat Myth now, too.”

“Do you...do you think if there was a past life, that we knew each other?”

There’s something about the look of content on your face before you meet his gaze -- he thinks that you know more than you’re letting on but you’re holding back for some reason. He wants to know what’s going through your brain right now, why the fondness in your eyes sends a jolt through him like he’s been searching for it all his life, if you know anything about this magnetic pull between you two.

“I like to think that we knew each other well.”

-

Even though the first day of your returned memories was somewhat eventful, you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to pull back from Childe -- at least, until you can successfully compartmentalize which emotions belonged to you past self and which ones belonged to your current mindset. You didn’t quite agree with his duties and his affiliation with the Fatui back then, even if he had his reasons that did make sense, to some degree.

The killing, the threatening, so intent on stealing Rex Lapis’s Gnosis in the name of the Tsaritsa, summoning Osial as a mean to an end -- and you definitely can’t forget how stubborn he was in not listening to your protests, so caught up in his brain that you had betrayed him and sent you plummeting to a near-death experience despite his earlier promise of no intention of killing you specifically.

Everything had been toeing a faint, thin line with Childe then. Undeniable chemistry and tension, guarding yourself for yours and Paimon’s safety, slashing at Fatui agents, whispering out pleas and affirmations of “I’m yours” while riding him, sometimes having to sneak out in the mornings…

The only thing you don’t remember is how everything ends -- maybe it’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, you think you’re okay not knowing.

If Childe still doesn’t remember anything from back then, you think it’d be unfair to spend time with him in all your conflicting emotions, even when it’s spring break, where you have so much more hours in the day to be with each other than normal. Fun plans around Liyue had been made, like a two-day one-night trip to Yaoguang Shoal, and you’re this close to cancelling on him.

But he had been looking forward to it so much, even made most of the preparations for it. Who are you to rob that joy from him when it was you who couldn’t figure out your own shit? Are you self-destructing?

Perhaps.

Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the scenery. Somehow, it pleased you to see that the nature of Liyue had been carefully preserved over the many centuries despite its development into the modern age. You get lost in picking apart the differences between then and now that you don’t notice how quiet you’ve fallen and Childe looks over worriedly when you show no reaction to your favorite songs playing on the stereo.

Even when he calls your name once, twice, nothing gives as you clearly have tuned everything out. So he leaves you be until there’s about half an hour left on the drive, unable to hold back and succumbing to reach over for your hand. You startle so strongly that he almost feels bad for having done it unannounced. But what’s even more disturbing is that this isn’t really the first time.

You’ve been talking to him less, often sitting quietly and staring off into another world that he can’t seem to reach. His texts are answered less frequently and with less wit and enthusiasm, so much so that he just appreciates you still show up to see him. Each time he asks if you’re okay, you always affirm that you are. He’s had a hard time believing you, but Childe believes you’ll tell him when you’re ready, surely.

It’s a little ironic yet fateful that Childe planned to bring you here, of all places. In the past, you had spent many days and nights running around in the sand with him, fighting slimes and hilichurls and collecting starconches for him. You remember laying on a large towel next to him as you both looked up into the sky, pointing out stars and constellations while sharing endless kisses away from prying, spying eyes.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve zoned out,” you sincerely apologize.

“It’s okay, I just wanna make sure you relax while we’re here. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“You’re right,” you agree and squeeze his hand. “Let’s make the most of it before we become adults who are too busy to have fun like this again.”

And you do. Childe rented a small beach cabin (rich boys) closer to one end of the shoreline, just big enough with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen with a dining table. You help him bring in your bags and some groceries bought the night before, setting them down quickly so you can peer out the window again to take in the view. Childe picked a good time, too. Although it’d be a little chilly at night, the day was still warm and mainly overcast with clouds.

“What do you say we change into our swimsuits and head down to the water?”

“Sure.”

Childe hadn’t really been expecting for you to step out in a large, casual tee and gym shorts, one shoulder exposed. He might have been hoping to see a little more skin, but his mother didn’t raise a chauvinistic pervert for a son.

The light in your eyes as you both approach the water is everything he had been missing the last few days, your excitement and joy contagious. As soon as you place everything down on the sand, you kick off your flip flops and leave him behind to step into the water, giggling at feeling the waves crash over your ankles and bring sand between your toes. Childe approaches you from behind and starts smearing sunblock on the back of your neck, to which you just grin beautifully at him in thanks and he has to fight off the desire to kiss you right then and there.

You’re too caught up in embracing the ocean afterwards to feel the shrinking distance between you two, mistaking his warmth for the general spring air. It isn’t until he’s done with your shoulders that he hands you the bottle to leave you to do the rest of your body, and when you turn to thank him, he’s much closer than you remember. His eyes are gentle, holding your gaze and almost daring you to look away first.

But if there’s one thing you can place without a shred of doubt, it is the unmistakable look of love, because you had seen it many, many times before without knowing until later what it meant.

How so incredibly lucky you were to have Childe back in your life now, loving you all the same, and with no life-threatening barriers. Fate or the Archons have given you a second chance, and you’d be damned to take it for granted.

Childe welcomes your lips against his, wasting no time to bring you into his arms so you’re pressed against him as much as possible. He can’t care for the overt public display of affection because this is everything he’s wanted for months now, waiting patiently for you to give him permission to make you his. Your lips are incredibly soft and pliant against his as you first kiss him patiently, then applying more force and desperation to taste more of him. He mirrors you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other on your neck with a thumb extended to your jawline, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip. It’s dangerous, the way you smile against his lips, and when he sinks his teeth in deeper before pulling back, your quiet mewl nearly drives him over the edge.

But you’re in public, and this was an amazing first kiss. You two have a beach to enjoy and a fun night planned, and now that he doesn’t have to hold back on his affections, it’ll be even better.

His lips part from yours regretfully, his eyes languidly opening to meet yours. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a blue starconch in the sand and freezes.

It’s not that he’s never seen one before, but something clicks. You. The shore. Starconches. Starry nights. His dreams. Monsters. Gods. Fighting. So much fighting. Training. His family. Dragons. You. Falling. You falling. You fighting him. Yelling. Kissing. Loving. Chasing. Him chasing you before you disappear at a teleport waypoint that somehow you only can operate. The abyss. Your twin.

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

He snaps to look at you again. How does he go about this? How does he ask?

“(Y/n)...have you ever heard of the Fatui Harbingers?”

He has to admit that it’s a bit amazing to be able to identify all the emotions that cross your complexion, from curiosity to realization to conflicted. You’re actively trying to piece everything together without revealing too much on the off-chance that you’re wrong, that Childe hasn’t regained his memories and is just asking about something from class randomly and completely out of the blue.

Wait.

“You haven’t reached that material yet in class,” you whisper, heart in your throat at the realization. Could it really be…

“I was once Tartaglia, eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, who possessed a Delusion and used my Foul Legacy Transformation with you several times,” he murmurs back, tucking a stray tendril behind your ear. “Is it too late to apologize again for summoning an ancient god and letting you fall about five floors with no warning?”

He should’ve been prepared for you wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “No, never, but I spent weeks after kicking your ass so you’ve been long forgiven.”

Childe burrows his face into your neck, breathing in your scent and basking in this moment. There was so much to talk about, but you two arguably had more time in the world than ever with nothing holding you back. There was no impending war looming over, no one on the run, no opposing forces. His silent wish for a different life with you seems to have been answered finally. If running into you had been the event to set everything in motion, he only wishes he’d done so earlier.

All that matters now is you’re here together in this plane of existence, given a chance to love again, and experience everything you couldn't before.

As written in the stars, take my soul for it is forever yours.

fin

[opalescient]

haikyuu fic recs — the most beautiful, lovely, breathtaking masterlist (vol. I)

so i’ve been binging fics to cure my sadness, and i thought that these select masterpieces were too magnificent to not be plastered on every billboard ever. some tore my soul into shreds, while others melted said shreds back whole, but all of them made me feel some form of sheer, unadulterated love, so. please enjoy! 🥰⛅️✨

note: all of these fics are exquisite and you should read all of them, but if you’re short of time, those with ☆ are my all-time favourites!

daisuga

butterfly in the subway by bigspoonnoya ☆ | T

Sugawara Koushi has no idea he's already in love with the man he's supposed to hate.

i lovelovelove how all the concepts tied in together like a perfectly wrapped gift

also very wholesome, made me feel so inexplicably warm. like, love can exist everywhere!!! despite everything!!! that’s just so inspiring

i revisited this many times, i think it was (one of) my first haikyuu fics and honestly. it set the bar so high and i have no regrets

you’d fit my lonely arms so perfectly by boxofwonder ☆ | G

“Oh. You're. Not Asahi.”

Calmed down enough that he can speak again, Daichi takes a deep breath, his smile settling on his face easily and wide.

“Not as far as I know, no.”

-

Suga accidentally calls a stranger instead of his best friend, tells him all about his burned batch of cookies before realising, and that particular mistake might turn out the best one he ever made.

major, major fluff

the buildup!!!

god this made my yearning for love so much worse

the perfect stranger by downmoon | T

There’s a man standing outside Suga's door.

Scratch that. Start over.

There’s a man he doesn’t know standing outside his door, holding his sleeping nephew in one arm, with another kid clinging tightly to his free hand.

so domestic please read the entire series from start to finish it has my whole heart

shoyou and tobio as their actual kids 🥺

these two parents are so in love it makes me wanna cry

asanoya

silica sand by lilien passe ☆ | G

Overworked, over-stressed programmer Azumane Asahi works on the top floor of a Shinjuku skyscraper. Nervous around his coworkers and terrified of the long drop on the other side of the window, Asahi falls into a miserable routine, only to have it broken one day by a simple message on the outside of the glass.

PLEASE. so well-written it makes my heart glow and ache simultaneously

made me ascend into asanoya heaven

such a brilliantly unique concept i love it A+

qué syrah syrah by loudlucy | M

Asahi wants to be a Master Sommelier. It's the highest honor in wine service, and the certification would allow him to live the life he's always envisioned for himself. Too bad the certification test is notorious for being the world's most difficult.

Most people fail their first time taking the exam, and Asahi is no exception, but he has more difficulty than most dusting himself off and getting back on his feet. Enter Nishinoya, a young man who shares his same dream, and who believes in their goals so fiercely it forces Asahi to embark on a delicious and sensuous journey of viticulture and validation.

AKA The Wine Tasting AU that literally no one even knew to ask for.

NOTE: You Do Not Need to Know About Wine to Understand This Fic!

another super unique concept!!! (´∀｀=)

my god their chemistry is amazing

the writing made me feel things ngl

stop my bones from wondering by cerasi ☆ | T

After graduation, Asahi hides from the world and needs help from a few sources to find his way back.

i want to write sonnets and sing ballads for this fic, it’s that beautiful

as always, Top Notch Writing *chef’s kiss*

no but i seriously... can i kiss the author? asking for a friend 😳👉🏼👈🏼

iwaoi

star-crossed by starlitcities | T

“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d envy a human,” Oikawa admits, showering himself in tiny suns, because he can actually feels those, like a fusillade of warm kisses on luminous skin that leave marks. To humans, they’d be freckles. Skin stars, Oikawa calls them. He didn’t make that up, a human did.

“Who created the rule that we can’t touch, I wonder,” Iwaizumi ponders, floating heedlessly through space.

“Maybe it’s because we can fly. Humans dream of flying, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

gsjsgsjshsjshsjsj star!iwaoi

they’re LITERALLY STARS

beautifulbeautifulbeautiful i love how the author conveyed the beauty of touch and humanity 🥺🥺

please bless yourself further with the sequel sun-kissed

conquering the great king by suggestivescribe ☆| E

Iwaizumi blinked his gaze over to Oikawa, "Last time was supposed to be a one time thing," he said, voice low, lacking some conviction.

Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

yes.

in fact, this entire series (breaking the rules) features daisuga, kuroken, asanoya and it’s SO GOOD. every single one.

but anyway, character development!!!!! plot!!!!!!!!! writing!!!!!!!! i’m here for it all

tsukkiyama

campfire in your chest by deanpendragon ☆ | M

Kei realizes in their second year of high school that he’s probably been in love with Yamaguchi since they were ten. However hopeless he might be in handling that situation, Kei prays he’s at least not as hopeless as Hinata and Kageyama. But he just might be.

SO BEAUTIFUL

i am also a sucker for anything with stars, moons and all the love in between

no words to describe this work of art please just go read it and be blessed

under the lilac tree by raewrites | G

there’s a lilac tree in Kei’s backyard.

gorgeous in its simplicity

softtsukkisofttsukkisofttsukki

not as grandiose as the rest but the love written into every word, action and character is absolutely show-stopping

kagehina

saffron and cayenne pepper by dontsaycrazy ☆ | T

Cooking is hard. Even if you have your very attractive, very grumpy neighbor there to help you.

-

In which Hinata's lack of cooking skills are a danger to him and others. Luckily (or not), Kageyama is willing to teach him, if only for the sake of avoiding any burned down apartments.

the essence of their characters were captured so well and yet it’s like they’re completely new characters too? author, whoever you are, you totally owned this

this made me ship kagehina so hard

fluff! cuteness! lots and lots of cooing!

kuroken

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony ☆ | T

soulmate

/ˈsəʊlmeɪt/ • noun

A person who was made from the same star as you.

-

// Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives.

ahhh here it is. beautiful, heartbreaking, soul-emptying agony. you want angst? choke on this, and your tears later on.

no but seriously please read this if you haven’t you won’t regret it at all i promise

written from kenma’s perspective so you experience every depth and multitude of emotion he does and it’s so raw and- brb imma go cry for a sec

knot in my heart by hearthope | T

There’s a picture. Kenma blinks, looking at the little calico cat, being held up next to the face of a guy with stupidly messy hair and a crooked grin.

Cute.

The— the cat. The cat is cute.

Just the cat.

-

Kuroo starts spending a lot of time at the flower shop Kenma works at. Kenma definitely isn't into him.

okay so i like it when authors unravel a normally stoic character’s full scope of emotion and give them depth, sue me.

anyway, back on the fluff train!

i absolutely f*ck with flower symbolisms, cats and bitchy best friends who have dirt on each other. the layers of romance, friendship and everything in between is so prettily developed 10/10

bokuaka

the jacket you never returned by daisuga ☆☆ | G

He leaned over, kissed Bokuto on the cheek, and smiled bitterly, eyes watery.

He will never remember. Not now, not ever.

What they were will now forever be forgotten.

-

"You used to call me Keiji, Koutarou."

YOU USED TO CALL ME KEIJI, KOUTAROU!!!!!!!!!!

i beg you to listen to Spiegel im Spiegel when it’s first mentioned in the story please

i read this and screamed through my tears for a solid 1.5 hours. i rarely cry.

no f*ckin regrets though i read this thrice already and it hurts so good every time

rules by conesofdunshire ☆☆ | E

In which Akaashi Keiji is an overworked accountant who stumbles upon Bokuto one night playing the piano in the lobby of his work. Bokuto is different, that much is obvious. But with such supreme musical talent and a smile so dazzling it rivals the sun, there's just something about him that brings Akaashi back every night.

this fic. this fic has my whole, broken, sobbing heart and laughing soul

gorgeous. breathtaking. magnificent.

bokuto is so WARM and akaashi is so STRONG and they both find the solace they need in each other and it’s all i want for me 😭😭😭

in another life by littleluxray | T

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

this is a famous fic that i doubt any seasoned haikyuu reader wouldn’t know, and RIGHTLY SO BECAUSE, the PAIN. the pain. the pain.

i could feel my lungs shrivel up and my chest cave in on itself. fatigue and rest are things i struggle with too so this whole story resonated with me from start to finish, and it broke me. in like, the best, most revitalising way

i would read this again but it still haunts me at night. i need to heal from the first time before i have the guts to try one more time HAHAHA 😆💔😭

tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau | G

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

mmmmmmm pretty photographer + personalised coffee cups + cute baristas = diabetic fluff fic

i smiled so much throughout this you have no idea. cheeks achey but so good

i may have squealed a little at the ending

kurotsukki

moonfall by batman | T

There is no unlearning Tetsurou, after all. There is only leaving him.

-

(Five things of Tetsurou's that ended up in Kei's home, and one that never left.)

the writing!!!!!! is pure beauty!!!! sheer grace!!!!!!! the construction of the AU and the romanticism and hsjsgsjshsj

didn’t cry but. heart ache and bittersweet smiles are another level of misery that is just as fulfilling

yea just pleasepleasepleaseplease go read it thank you and have a good day

hidden gem by realmSpinner | E

Things get complicated when everything you thought you knew about a guy changes, and they get even more complicated when you actually start liking those changes.

That guy working with you AND becoming your neighbor? That's just a cherry on top of the cake of confusion.

this AU was refreshingly different, and amazingly so

top!tsukki??? sign me the f*ck up

the whole plot, man. perfection.

pings by barfs ☆☆ | T

[5/02/16, 3:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:50:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hate begging. You know I hate it.

[5/02/16, 3:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you’re snickering at that, wherever you are.

[5/02/16, 3:50:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But, it keeps hurting and I don’t know why and it feels like shit and I know you could tell me why, but you’re not here and I would really appreciate it if you’d just wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:51:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re laughing at that too, aren’t you.

[5/02/16, 3:51:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Dying is probably up there in the list of top ten shitty things you’ve ever done, and you’ve done a lot of shitty things.

god.

you already know what’s coming, and yet. when it comes.

how the f*ck did the author make grief beautiful????????? (at the expense of me dying along with kei and everyone else i guess)

this fic will ruin you and bury you under all your pain (i hope you’re ready)

but also put you back together with the “sequel”

kyouhaba

close to the chest by darkmagicalgirl | T

It takes Yahaba thirteen years to realize he's different from the other kids, one to figure out how to hide it, and two more to learn to be happy just the way he is. Yahaba's journey ft. an extremely annoyed Kyoutani, best friend in the world Watari, and loads and loads of good senpai Oikawa.

cause i’m (not) alright with the slow, burn~

no fr, take slow and burn very seriously

overthinking yahaba? i understand. i do.

again, such an amazing fic; 10/10 recommend

safe here by crossbelladonna ☆ | M

“Raids are routine work,” Kyoutani tells to Yahaba before he can air the question. “Sometimes there is no sleep done until we accomplish something, say kill a certain ghoul. I guess they’re still going through the possibility that people in the accident are still alive huh?”

Yahaba quirks a smile, pushing his mask up his head.

“You’re alive.”

Kyoutani looks at him intently and all of the things that they’ve gone through for the past month seems to flash in his mind.

“Yes I am.”

i haven’t watched tokyo ghoul but i understood everything perfectly. such is the power of f*cking kickass writing

*cue ugly crying and a lot of unresolved angst*

like the grief??????? ruin me please thank you 🙏 (i think i’m a little masochistic)

rare pairs

mannequin men by surveycorpsjean ☆ | M

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tuskishima]

The modelling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

i did not expect this to be good, and it wasn’t. it was SPLENDID.

akaashi is so enamoured with them from the get go i love it

a tiny bit of angst that stabbed me in the heart, but the happy ending soothed it (thankfully, because if there wasn’t one i will sue)

characterisation, writing, plot development; everything is great. can you tell i’m running out of synonyms for ‘beautiful’

feel like gold by heronfem ☆☆ | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/kenma]

In which Kenma is unapologetic and comfortable with who he is, Akaashi learns a lot about himself in a short period of time, Kuroo is wildly in love and an eternal survivor, and Bokuto remembers that love doesn't cure mental illness, but having a support system sure helps a lot.

Or, the one where 4 young men get together, and are helplessly, hopelessly, utterly in love despite everything.

e.e. cummings?? poetry??? f*ck yes

so beautiful. i’m so star-struck by this fic it’s simply stunning

there are no words to fully capture how worth your time and heart and mind reading this fic is so please. do yourself a favour, and fall in love with this fic with me

the sky and guilt are the only feelings i have left by oopsthisisqueertoo ☆☆ | not rated

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo]

Akaashi is at his wits end. He feels nothing. He's quickly crumbling as a human being. He wants nothing but sweet release of death. In his fourth year of college he drafts a plan for his suicide. He is to graduate, publish writing for others to be inspired by, and slip quietly away. Shortly after, he meets a dog walker named Bokuto who asks him out and Akaashi reluctantly agrees. Nothing matters anymore and he treats Bokuto like an obligation. Until he's not anymore.

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPTS & DEPRESSION

this was... this gutted me entirely and filled my body with too many shades of agony

arguably one of the best haikyuu fics i’ve ever read

so beautiful in the most painful way fathomable; strongly recommend

april to may by surveycorpsjean | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tsukishima]

They're an odd family.

The four of them? Parents?

But still, they're a family.

So they'll support each other until the end.

aaahhhhh third gym as parents 🥺

so much fluff. i also love april and may

they’re still so in love there’s love in every millimetre of this fic :”)

that’s it for now! i’ll add more if i come across anymore good fics. i hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any requests/fic recs, or if u just wanna chat, feel free to just ask! hehe 🥰 k aight bye~

[seokmingiggles]

be your enemy.

Anon requested on 210315: "hii queen!! i just saw that your requests were open for the 65 song lyrics prompt thing! if it's okay with you, i'd like to request an angst drabble with mingyu + 39 on the prompt list pls!! thank you soo much!!"

Song lyric prompt 39: “Close your eyes; if you’re tired, lean on me for a second.” TAEMIN, WENDY; Be Your Enemy.

Find the rest of the prompts here!

I’m also using @ficscafe​’s scenario event prompts:

2. when they have to fight off a villain. 10. when they fall in love with someone they’re not supposed to. 46. when they apologize.

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x gender neutral reader

Genre: angst, minimal fluff, special agent!au/assassin!au, dystopian!au.

3.05k words

Warnings: major character death (I would not consider the scene to be detailed, but please be wary of this major warning), the use of a gun as a weapon, mentions of blood, overall themes of deceit, two curse words, a fairly awkward kiss.

With the downfall of the world, rates of crime have increased drastically, particularly where you live. You’ve become something akin to a weapon, readily available to eliminate each target you find yourself assigned by your strict boss.

Alternatively, working as a special agent of a corrupt organization initially seemed to have its perks—maybe the work was more laborious than you and Mingyu once thought.

A/N: I’ve been trying to avoid using the song titles directly as my own, but this one in particular greatly helped inspire the direction I took with this fic. I tried a new method of writing here, which also aided in the plot progression; the story eventually became something I’m genuinely fond of. This is the longest piece I’ve written (especially for a request) since January, but I also feel like my writing skill has drastically improved within these past few months I’ve been posting on Tumblr. I’m quite proud of this one (despite being intimidated by a genre I don’t typically write for); I hope you enjoy it too.

A special thank you to @wonwooslibrary​ for beta reading this in its first version and letting me ramble about the ideas I couldn’t think of how to include at the time.

Here is the song that I used to inspire this fic, along with its lyrics.

As I’ve mentioned in the warnings of this fic, there are some heavy themes below the cut which some may find uncomfortable. Nothing is explicitly detailed, but please be wary if you find any of the above topics to be triggering.

•• You can close your eyes," you mumbled, not to startle the silence surrounding your exhausted bodies. "Lean on me, here."

You patted your shoulder, shuffling as close as you could get while confined by your seatbelt in the backseat of the car.

A day's end meant aching muscles and heavy eyelids. Luckily, you didn't work alone; you had another agent with you: Agent Kim, who, along the way, had proved himself more than worthy to work alongside you.

You were somewhat skeptical of the agent's abilities initially—him being your subordinate and you being top-of-the-line; it was an awkward match at first. His height alone was both a strength and weakness: it allowed him to take longer strides, moving faster, stronger; however, he certainly wasn't the stealthiest of the bunch. The latter reason ticked you off more easily than you'd like to admit.

And yet, when he'd so sweetly apologize profusely to you—wide eyes and lips in the ghost of a pout—you believed him when he said he was sorry.

"I believe this is your stop," your driver for the night—another agent in your field, Lee Seokmin—spun around in his seat. "Try to have fun, but not too much fun, okay?"

Another liaison whose mouth got on your nerves.

The driver's face contorted in what you could only guess was a grin from his teasing words; the chain around his neck caught your eye as it shone beneath the streetlamps before it plunged into the depths beyond his shirt's collar.

You mumbled out a quiet "Thanks" while your work partner expressed the sentiment much more graciously.

•

The movement from getting out of the car to the hotel's elevator provided another quiet moment between you and Mingyu. The doors shut behind you as you shuffled inside; the agent pressed the button to head upwards to your floor, and you were off. Your stomach lurched with the pull of the elevator—you were already feeling uneasy since this morning, but the sensation intensified now. The walls seemed to creak, shuttering and mirroring the stirring of your stomach flip-flopping beneath the surface. Palms clammy, you shoved them into your pockets to remove them from your sight, yet you continued to stand up tall, face as neutral as could be.

The metal doors of the elevator opened with a chiming ding, freeing you from your temporary prison. Mingyu stepped out of the elevator first and turned left in the direction of your room; you trailed behind him with much lighter footsteps.

He's still rather clunky despite all those years of training; if you let yourself relax, you might have rolled your eyes at the thought.

It wasn't unusual for agents to share hotel rooms. It saved on money; it was convenient if either of you were called to action in the middle of the night.

Tonight was no exception; Mingyu was just another one of your coworkers with which you've had to bunk.

"I'm going to use the bathroom quickly."

You knew you didn't need to say anything, really, but the unease in the pit of your stomach said otherwise, forcing the words to expel out of your mouth before you could realize it.

Mingyu hummed an "Okay" as he fiddled with the room's curtains, sliding the drapes to take in the night view over the city. It was one of the few times in which he felt small, insignificant; a moment where he could get lost in observing the endless specks of the amber in the streetlights and red of the moving traffic disappearing on the grid-like roads.

You turned the corner to reveal the small bathroom. The light above the sink buzzed at the flick of the switch by the door frame. Shutting the door behind you, you padded softly towards the sink: a ceramic dish with limited counter space neighbouring it, small trails of rust were beginning to form at the base of the faucet.

You turned the—what you would imagine once to be a blinding platinum tone—handles, a short squeak releasing before the flush of cold water engulfed the sink. You cupped your hands, water pooling and slipping between your fingers. A quick splash of cold water over your face was enough to bring you back to your senses. You grabbed a pristine white towel from the adjacent shelf, patting your face and hands dry.

You didn't bother checking your reflection before nearing the door and leaving the room, another click of the light switch silencing the static buzzing.

You momentarily stopped, squeezing the towel in your hands, "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

Your pace quickened as you approached Mingyu with his hands fiddling through your belongings, "Why are you going through my stuff?" You tossed the towel to the bench on the side.

The lump in your throat that you had just managed to push down gradually bubbled up to the surface once more, agitated, fists suddenly clenching—

"Care to explain this?"

Your medallion, silver and shining in the dim hotel room lighting suddenly became the most blinding piece of jewellery you'd ever laid your eyes on.

Mingyu swallowed hard; he knew he was pushing his luck—this particular medallion, the swirling insignia inscribed on it—could mean nothing good. Maybe someone else planted it there. Maybe it was just a mistake.

He was hoping it was just a mistake.

Instead of his wish, he was surprised when a scoff left your mouth. An unusually sly smirk decorated your features when you spoke, "What is there to explain?" Maybe playing coy would pay off.

But Mingyu saw right through you immediately.

The boy's eyebrows furrowed in an instant, hand still clutching the silver chain of the pendant and slowly lowering it to his side.

"You're not stupid. You know what that is, what it signifies," Mingyu looked at the necklace once more. "Have you not been"—he wasn't sure what to say to make the situation better, to ease his accelerating heart rate—"truthful all this time?"

Your arms only crossed over your chest at his question, enclosing yourself into internal apprehension and threatening to shut him out for good.

"Truthful," Mingyu tried again, "to me?"

"You would've found out at some point, Gyu–"

"Please don't call me that."

One step backwards and then another—dropping the necklace in the process, Mingyu no longer cared as a hand found purchase on his gun still held securely in the holster latched tightly around his waist.

The boy's Adam's apple bobbed when he cleared his throat, "Did Seokmin know?"

All you could do for a moment was continue to gaze downwards at the mention of that name, staring at the ugly pattern on the hotel carpet—a sub-genre of spirals that looped around and around and were good for nothing other than making your stomach churn even more. Your nails dug into your palms at the pressure enclosed within your fists.

The agent across from you repeated his question, evidently becoming more exasperated, breath hitching and tears prickling in his eyes.

"Yes," you kept your tone low, suddenly ashamed, and voice quieting as your words continued, "yes, Seokmin knew."

Mingyu didn't so much as flinch. A stern and solemn gaze still plastered on his face despite his watering eyes, his voice tasted bitter when he asked, "So, what are you going to do now, huh? Are you going to shoot me? Are you going to forget that we've been working together for the past year? Push past all of the—all of our good memories? Push past that you know me? That you're my friend–"

"You've never called me your friend."

"Not outright, but fuck, let's not have this conversation now!" Mingyu's tone began to rise as he shifted on the edge of the bed. "We both know that there can't be a bright outcome from this," he paused to catch his breath. "Don't we?"

You both also knew it was a rhetorical question.

The medallion—so shiny and pretty, so dainty and silver—also came with a cost. A promise with blood, your life was nothing short of sold to the band of hired assassins who were linked with that very symbol. Their hospitality was good; the money was better.

Yet, it came with the price that you couldn't have predicted: that you would one day have to eliminate your very partner in your field—he who didn't wear the same medallion.

"Just get it over with, (Y/N)," shifting again, his weight sunk the mattress down; the crisp duvet now crinkled, no longer unscathed. "If you fail your mission, who knows what kind of trouble you'll get into."

"But you can't just give up on everything–"

"What other choice do I have?"

Your mouth opened but only to close once more, suffocating like a fish out of water. Floundering, you couldn't find the words to answer Mingyu.

"What other choice do you have?"

He was right. What other choice was there?

Slowly, you unclenched your fists, breath steadying—in through your nose, out through your mouth. There you go, just like that. It'll be okay—like the boy in front of you had taught you when you had come back from a particularly exhausting mission last summer.

You had been stepping through the corridors without the intention of being stopped. You had wanted nothing more than to wash up and be alone for the rest of the evening—that was until the rookie had seen your dishevelled appearance and had asked you what was wrong.

You didn't even realize you had begun crying that night until his hand raised in-level with your face and wiped away a falling tear.

You didn't expect to let your guard down to him then (and that certainly wasn't the last time that Mingyu would check in on you from time to time).

You had been taught to kill. You had been taught not to get attached to the enemy.

Never would you have thought that your supposed enemy would be sat in front of you with familiar brown eyes.

Those same fawn eyes which you found yourself becoming more and more comfortable around as the days passed. You found yourself inexplicably drawn to him.

Sure, the world had gone to shit with the government being overthrown and the significant spike of violence, but at least you had Mingyu in your life: a beacon of optimism that drowned out the screams of the city and cries of terror that quickly smothered out any and all remains of joy this world had to offer.

He gave you hope. He ignited the fire in your heart that pushed you forth to keep going day after day. He made you laugh when you felt as if there was nothing left in the world that could bring you delight; he allowed you to cry when you were convinced the act was nothing more than a sign of weakness.

You felt like you owed the boy your entire life and then some.

You cleared your throat, "Could I try something?"

You're not sure where the newfound idea came from, but staring at the gentle slope of Mingyu's nose, trailing down to the slight peak at the bottom of his cupid's bow above his pink lips, maybe this was the least you could do.

The least you could do—it would be a lie if you said you didn't want to either.

You strode over to the agent with a blooming surge of confidence. Gun in tow still strapped to your side, you took a seat next to him on the bed. Mingyu typically towered over you when you stood next to each other—sitting here was no exception.

You slid your palm over your clothed thigh before carefully cupping the side of his face. Waiting for one, two seconds before you gradually leant in only to feel Mingyu's lips unexpectedly meeting you halfway. You wished the gesture was romantic, but your hand was still clammy as you held your buzzing nerves in your palm along with Mingyu's cheek. Your mind became even more confused and unsettled and swirling with the pit of your stomach as the seconds passed. You felt a tear slip down the boy's face as it met your thumb despite him bringing his hand up to support the back of your head, deepening the kiss, pulling you closer to him.

He momentarily froze when he felt the cold end of your weapon meet the bottom of his chin. The two of you parted from the kiss but remained to hold one another, still close enough to feel the hot breath of his exhale fan across the bottom of your lip.

"I don't have to do this, you know," you whispered, nearly recoiling at the stale taste of your mouth, suddenly hyper-aware that you had kissed Mingyu with that same mouth.

Your grip on your gun's handle was weak but tightened when Mingyu enveloped your hand with his.

"Then allow me to help."

He cocked the safety release, not once removing his eyes from your gaze.

Another tear fell, this time from your eye, yet only to be swept away by Mingyu's thumb before it even reached your chin.

"I think–" you weren't sure where your words were going. Your eyes pressed shut, face slightly lowering, "I think that I–"

"Don't say it."

Looking up once more, you couldn't bear to see the delicate grin dancing on Mingyu's face.

He briefly glanced out of the window adjacent to the bed, admiring the pretty lights one last time before turning to you again. "I know," he mumbled with a smile. "Me too."

It was that same smile that welcomed you last summer. That same smile that wormed its way into your heart shortly after. That same smile that belonged to the boy—arguably the only boy—to which you felt yourself growing attached.

Mingyu squeezed your hand—your finger—before you realized what was happening, followed by a deafening bang of the gun, still ringing and pounding in your eardrums despite its silencer.

Eyes shut tightly from the sudden noise, you didn't want to open them to reveal the mess that you knew was waiting for you on the other side of your eyelids, decorating the mattress ahead of you like some kind of cruel masterpiece made by an artist you hated.

Now that you think of it, you never enjoyed painting.

Instead, you placed your hand on the boy's leg that was still lightly touching yours from where he continued to sit. He was still warm.

He still felt alive.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry, I'm–" the words repeated until you ran out of breath. "I didn't want to. I didn't mean to–"

You abruptly stood, head spinning for a moment before you turned in the opposite direction. Then, finally, trusting your vision, the rest of the room came into your sight as you stepped with shaky legs to the bathroom.

You moved one foot in front of the other until you made it to the sink, hunching over the short countertop. Deep inhales and swallowing the air, your hands shook as you gripped the edge of the sink. You raised your head to peer in the mirror, only to see speckles of scarlet painted on your face, gradually drying and progressively becoming darker as time passed—a timer ticking upwards from the moment the gun was fired.

You couldn't recognize yourself.

The same squeak emitted from the faucet as your weak grip turned the handle. You began with your hands, washing the red from them, then splashing the water on your face to rid yourself of all evidence of the last ten minutes—especially when Mingyu's lips were on yours: that was what you wanted to forget the most.

A sudden ring from the hotel's phone made your heart lurch; your last meal, too, nearly came up in the mix.

Tracing your hand on the wall for stability, you remained in the bathroom, slowly striding to the phone next to the toilet.

A clear of your throat before a wavering, "Hello?"

You wiped the droplets of water beading down your face with your sleeve—it was a mistake when you examined the fabric, stained with splatters of death.

"You did well."

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up at the voice laced with the grin you loathed. You didn't respond.

Instead, the voice continued, "I'll send someone to dispose of the body. You've done enough, Agent."

"Thank you, Sir."

The line went silent. You slowly removed the phone from your ear and put it back in its holder on the wall.

All you could do was slink down until you made contact with the tiled floor; coldness seeped through your soiled clothes—you wished for it to numb you.

You let yourself sob into your arms, finally breaking down. You knew Mingyu would allow you to cry.

Although now, you knew that it no longer mattered what Mingyu thought.

•

Parked in his car a few blocks down the street, Seokmin peered through the hotel window once more as he fiddled with his phone. A similar grin from that he wore earlier decorated his features when he dialled another number.

"(Y/N) managed to do it," he leaned back in his seat, gaze still trained through the window despite the action beyond the glass having ceased long ago. "Mingyu was the last one. We're good now. Safer."

The mobile conversation ended with a beep beneath Seokmin's thumb.

His plan had worked: his group of assassins wiped out the rest of the agents under an opposing leader—the weak links who weren't part of his newly established medallion clan. It was a long shot—which Seokmin knew—but he also knew that with the reduction of agents in the field, he'd gain more power.

There was now no one else in his way; he'd become the top of the line in this city. He'd no longer be a laughing-stock. He'd be feared.

Seokmin fiddled with the chain around his neck, thumb finding the medallion's smooth surface as it gleamed beneath the moonlight.

The ghost of a smile curled upon his chapped lips.

He turned the key in his car's ignition, driving away and quickly consumed by the darkness of the city.

After all, the lights weren't so pretty up close.

••

[ceridwyn2]

This may seem like a stupid (and unpopular with some) question, with AO3, is there a way to filter out some writers in search results? I’m doing a search through a particular fandom (no, not stating which one, as I’ve seen it across more than just one fandom) at the moment, and there is a lot of crap there amongst the good gems. I’m picky when I read fanfic 😅 , and a lot of times I don’t have time to wade through hundreds/thousands of stories to look for the good ones.

By the way, this ended up being a lot longer than I originally intended 😂 as I was thinking it through. What I like in the stories I read as follows:

A) Be grammatically correct

B) Spelling correct

C) Sentence & paragraph structure correct. Dialogue for each character in separate paragraphs.

D) Point of View: maintain one person’s point of view either for the whole scene or whole story. Especially important if stories are written in first person (I/My/Me) or second person (You/Them/They). These stories are often harder to write and maintain throughout well. If it’s first person, you’re only writing from one character’s point of view: on how *I* see/hear/experience the things around *me*. *I* don’t/can’t know what the other characters are thinking/feeling other than what *I* see/observe in their behaviour, unless they tell *me* what they think/feel. Writing in second person is equally difficult to maintain unless you’re very skilled at it. You’re writing as though your addressing the reader/person directly, as if you know them personally, intimately (does not need to be sexually) by using *you*. / Example: You love to write; you should do it more often. / If you’re of a certain age and remember the ‘choose your own adventure’ child/young adult books of the 70s-90s, they were in a person point of view.

Majority of fanfiction, and fiction in general is written in third person. Third person is like you’re the audience watching a tv show/film/play/book. You’re a non-active participant of what is happening and cannot affect the direction or outcome of the story. The primary subject of the scene is referred to by their name or rank and their pronoun(s), and is often the first character mentioned at/near beginning of the scene / Example: DCI Cassie Stewart walked into the incident room of her Historic Cases Unit, with a quick glance at her officers before heading into her office. It wasn’t long before her second in command, DS Sunil Khan, or Sunny, as he preferred, wrapped on the glass window pane of her office door. / That scene is dictated from her point of view, how she directs those around her and how those around her interact with her. Had it been slightly different, but same scenario: /DS Sunil Khan looked up as the door to the Historic Cases Unit opened and saw his boss, DCI Stewart, make her way to her office, glancing at the team as she did. Having got some new leads on their current case overnight, Sunny headed towards her office to notify her ahead of the day’s briefing. / This obviously changes whose point of view is the primary for that scene to Sunil.

Third person It allows the writer to explore different perspectives and viewpoints of different characters to move the story forward. However, that being said, to avoid reader confusion, pick one character - a main character, supporting character, or a villain - as the primary character of that scene and stick with their focus/perspective for the duration of a scene/chapter. If you want to express multiple character’s reactions or points of view to a specific same scene (like say a team of detectives coming onto a murder scene) and if it makes sense to do so, you can write the scenes same but different as each character will have their own take on what they saw/perceived/when they entered/exited the scene - but each character that you’re writing about will have a separate section, separated by punctuation marks, above and below the change of perspective. However, that can easily come across as too repetitive for the reader. Might be best to put that in a notes page each scene of how each sees the same scene - because you as the audience can visualise the characters as being there, when they arrived and what they observed. When you write the scene, write it from one character’s point of view, but as you have the other characters interacting with them, they can comment on what they saw observed, contributing to the overall pieces of information, without repetition, unless it contradicts or adds to a specific point being made.

E) Age correlateable. By which I mean, if someone’s going to write about established characters that are in their 40s, 50s, etc., their life experiences, maturity, have them act/respond to each other as such. I have read stories - or rather attempted to - but the mental maturity of the author was showing through characters in their 40s, 50s, and it was obvious the writer hasn’t grasped that maturity of the characters. Listen to the character’s voices (what they’re saying, how they’re saying, even what they’re not saying but expressing visually) you’re writing about. This really comes out when writing arguments and sex scenes, btw.

F) Physical/mental characteristics: If a character has an illness or physical disability, or like affecting joints or paralysed limbs, amputations, or anything that affects movement, be aware of that, esp if writing a sex scene (a whole other rabbit hole of bad writing exists there, see next item). If in an argument, you’re trying to express the character throwing something in anger, like a mug/glass, etc., for example, and the character has an injured/disabled arm, their strength to throw is going to be limited. Show the character’s frustration that the action they wanted had less effect at releasing that anger/frustration. If the character has a visual (partial or full blindness) or auditory disability (eg. hard of hearing, deafness in one or both ears, over-sensitive to sound/volume), take that into account. Esp in arguments, if one of the people in the scene has a tendency to mumble, they may not be understood as words run together are not easily decipherable either by sound or lip reading. Mental health /illness (eg PTSD /complex PTSD [cPTSD], depression, anxiety affects physical health responses. If the characters have mental health disorders, be aware and maintain that continuity through the story. Don’t need to mention it all the time but be aware it can affect movement/physical responses, behaviour. And unless you’re House, you don’t need to include every odd, weird, very rare symptom he seems to need to diagnose something for the character 😂 .

G) Sex scenes: some are done so well that it’s seamless and flows well with the other parts of the story, where the intimacy blends well. Others, very much no so. Unless it’s a specifically written PWP (plot, what plot) story, and those can work when written well. Trust me, I’ve read otherwise well-written stories ruined by a sex scene that reads like a bad porn with characters that otherwise had physical limitation(s) in the rest of the story but were suddenly able to pull off manoeuvres of someone 20 years younger and fully able-bodied. Like someone just tacked on an explicit sex scene on that didn’t mesh with the story as if they were two completely different people that happened to have the same names as the ones in the rest of the story.

H) Continuity. Whether your story is short or long, be aware of where your characters are/what they’re doing. Having a sense of timing. Helpful to have a notepad (digital or paper) sometimes to keep track of movement. They can’t be in two concurrent scenes at the same time. Passing off information between the characters; don’t assume one character (or group of characters) knows what the other(s) are doing, unless they are in contact with each other (visual/audio/both/text). Cause/effect. Action/reaction. There may be delayed effects or reactions (over scenes/chapters), but reference them back to the original cause or action and why there was a delay. For example, somebody witnesses or experiences a tragedy, war, fire, sexual assault, accident, or other traumatic experience, and it triggers a delayed emotional or physical response hours, days, months, years later. The character may or may not be able to explain to their partner, colleague, friend what it was that caused effect/reaction. Similarly, following onto earlier example of a thrown glass/mug/vase, if it smashes there could be subsequent injury from ceramic/glass/etc. like a cut finger/palm of hand if picking up the pieces/cleaning the mess. So maybe it requires a bandage or wrap. Continuity would include making further grasping of things discomforting or painful, maybe a comment from another person inquiring what happened later on if they’re noticing a bandage that wasn’t there the last time they saw them.

I) Alternate Universe stories. I don’t mind AUs when done right - so that even if the characters are placed in a different setting, their general personality traits are very recognizable. I’ve read quite a few that nail this perfectly. Others, not so much. When it works, it works. Otherwise it’s just slapping familiar names onto original fic just to get more eyes on a story.

[lycorogue]

For your ask game... 7, 13,15 and 16!

Livrever! You're just as bad as @cyhyr! You should also be well aware of my wordiness! Welp. Looks like I'm dusting off that good old Long Post hashtag again today. 😂

[Fanfic Writer Ask Game Questions]

7. What story/headcanons do you feel the proudest of?

By far the headcanon (which became a story) that I'm proudest of is the origin story of the lucky charm bracelet Marinette gave Adrien in "Gamer."

She already had it on-hand, and she didn't seem to have made it specifically to gift to Adrien. She even said he could "borrow" it, but never got it back. I think the charm bracelet was a spur of the moment decision to try to cheer him up and build up his confidence. When I was a kid, my mom gifted me various inspirational cards and worry stones to help me through finals and remind me that I could achieve anything I put my mind to. It felt fitting that Marinette's parents would do something similar, and THAT is where the bracelet originally came from.

If you want to read the full headcanon-inspired story, you can find it here: Build Your Own Luck

I love this headcanon so much I'm making sure to work it into my "I promise, I'm still working on it" WIP One and the Same.

Honorable Mention for favorite headcanon would be the headcanons I came up with for my Plagg-centric/Plagg-Appreciation story Forever in Darkness. In particular, my headcanon that Plagg was Aladdin's "lesser genie of the ring" from the 1001 Arabian Nights tale. I basically had that headcanon since I first saw Origins and Plagg mentioned meeting a genie before.

(Also, ya know, I still consider my first completed multi-chapter story Peeping Tomcat my magnum opus... so... yeah... proud of that one too)

13. When did you start writing fanfic?

I've been dabbling in fanfic pretty much ever since I understood what fandom was. When I was in elementary school I would create a whole series of X-Men OCs (only to discover a decade or so later that nearly every OC I thought of is already a canon X-Men character, they just never made the cut for the 90s cartoon).

In middle school and early high school (so roughly ages 12 through 15), I created a self-insert Batman OC (and love interest for Dick Grayson's Robin). She was Selena Kyle's niece that moved in with her. She struggled between excitedly being her Aunt Selena's apprentice as a cat burglar, and using those skills to be a hero with Batman and Robin. I can't recall the character's name anymore, but she went by the alias Black Panther (because that was my school's mascot and I'm a nerd like that).

About the age of 16 or 17 I joined my first play-by-post role-play game where I played Harley Quinn. It didn't last long before the game master went to college and the whole thing fell apart.

Then there was a fanfic dry spell. I did work on original works almost constantly from the age of 10 straight through to college. Then I had a college professor that more-or-less broke my creative writing spirit, sadly. I still wrote for video production classes and scriptwriting classes, but I didn't write anything recreationally for over 5 years.

Then, in 2009 I got back into the "Hey, Arnold!" fandom. August 2010 I wrote my first fanfic for the fandom. It would be the first fanfic I would ever publish online. I've been working on fanfics again ever since. 😁 (if you don't want to read the story on FFN, you can find the import over to AO3 here)

15. What is the fanfic you’ve written that you’re most proud of?

As I said before, I still think of Peeping Tomcat as my magnum opus. It is the longest story I've written. It is the first multi-chapter story I was able to actually complete. There are a lot of moments in that story that I just love to reread myself. It's the first story I've written that I felt compelled to write a sequel to (sadly, said sequel, One and the Same, has been stubborn the past 4 years and won't properly form, so that's still a WIP). It's the only ML fanfic I've published that has inspired fanart (but it's not my first fanfic ever to inspire art. That honor goes to my sadly abandoned HA! fanfic What is Truly Meant to Be). Plus, I got to emotionally torture poor Adrien, but also give him a happy ending.

Runner Up, I think, would have to be Prescription for Love, which is my interpretation of what Adrien did off-screen during the season 3 episode "Backwarder." A lot of my reviews have stated how much people loved Kagami in that story despite not particularly enjoying her canon characterization at that point in the series. Plus, Adrien is an oblivious little mush.

Honorable Mentions to the aforementioned Build Your Own Luck as well as my first Christmas-themed story Woven Heartstrings. I am still amazed at how perfect the gifts are for all of the characters, and I was the one who thought of them!!!! Plus, I've had a surprisingly large number of kudos/comments on that story outside of the holiday season, so it must really resonate with people even outside of December. Final Honorable Mention goes to the aforementioned Plagg-Appreciation story Forever in Darkness.

16. What fanfic tropes do you avoid writing for?

Goodness. I actually don't write for tropes. Not really. I aim more for "how close to a legit episode can I make this story?" or just general "This plot bunny showed up and I guess I'm nurturing it now???"

I don't know if I even KNOW all of the basic fanfic tropes....

If I used the This or That (Fanfic Edition) game as a guide, I think the tropes off of that list I'd avoid would be:

Flower Shop AU - I don't know much about flowers for that to be worth trying

Historical AU - I am TRASH at historical anything... although I'm a HUGE steampunkest... go figure

Major AU reworks in general - I am perfectly content snuggled into the canon. I like this show for a reason. And I like fanfic because the world building has already been done for me.

Crack??? - I don't have anything against crack. I quite enjoy it. I just... I'm not creative enough to come up with something so bonkers????

Whump - Not intentionally, at least. I almost never go into a story with the goal to torture the characters. That just... kinda... sorta... happens??? Sometimes???

Enemies to Lovers - I ADORE this trope, but I don't know if I could ever manage to write Adrien/Chat Noir as Marinette's/Ladybug's enemy nearly as masterfully as the other works already out there. Especially when some of my "competition" includes Discordant Sonata by @edendaphne and Curiosity and Satisfaction by @imthepunchlord.

Whew! This was even longer than the 4-question ask from Cyhyr! You ladies sure do know how to get me to talk. 😁

Thanks so much for the ask! Anyone else interested in getting to know more about me and my writing style? Feel free to drop me those asks. 😁

[asokatanos]

do you have any fic recs for the mentalist?

I told you I’d post some for you tonight and here they are!! Unfortunately I did a lot of reading while I was still obstinately REFUSING to make another ffnet account, so I didn’t save like a good 90% of what I read, some of which was excellent. But here are some of the ones I did +fav or whatever they call it there. No particular genre since your ask was open ended, but, well-

(sorry in advance - these are mostly ffnet links but they’re worth braving that site I swear)

((also this is definitely a non-exhaustive list. there’s some real talent in this fandom))

Consummate Connection Confrontation - these are three separate fics in that order by the absolutely inimitable @hardlyloquatious. Literally everything they’ve written is amazing. I’ve completely exposed myself because my first rec is sort of. uh, lightly 18+. But I had to put this author at the top of my list because I love them so much. The way Jane talks in Consummate has literally kept me awake more than once. It’s honestly more sweet and touching than anything but it’s definitely uh. not something your boss should catch you with I guess.

Long Lost, Long Last - same author. This was written and posted before My Blue Heaven aired, but it has the same vibe as that episode, except deliciously drawn out. It starts off with Jane being his kinda silly self and deciding he wants to try his hand at letter writing, so he writes little notes for the whole team. Lisbon is the only one who gives him a note back, and they take to leaving each other lil notes - until RJ is killed and Jane disappears to do some soul searching. This fic is so... beautiful and I think about it with some frequency. “Consummate” is hot but Long Lost Long Last is why HL is my fave TM author.

Practice - okay one last one from this author. This one isn’t like, groundbreaking, but it’s just the SWEETEST look at how much Jane tries after they get together. I’m a sucker for Jane being sweet. Clearly, since that’s why Consummate is at the top of this list.

Blood Red Moon - the author is 221b Baker Street. Their fics are a LOT more heavy. But they’re so, so good. Their mastery of language is incredible and their fics read like professionally written books - and they do Jane/Lisbon banter incredibly well. Some of the imagery they use has genuinely stuck with me. Also see Sacraments in Scarlet (Jane pretends to be a priest), Arsenic and Red Lace (murder at an assisted care facility and Jane being the cheery and extremely sad bastard that he is), Jonathon Redding (a take on Red John that is deeply clever), a Road lEss traveleD (this is. unsettling. it’s extremely good but save it for the last from this author, wait until you love them first. The payoff for not-as-it-seems comes towards the end but it really is worth waiting for).

Blood Wind - by Gone2Far speaking of unsettling. THIS ONE. God this fic is so good. Spooky as fuck in a way that’s a little X-Filesy and incredibly well written. I want to live very far from this fic while at the same time wrapping myself in its words so I can borrow a crumb of talent.

In Case series - @halfagonyandhope (yay, they’re on tumblr). This rec list isn’t necessarily in any sort of order because after HL, halfagonyandhope is second fave author. This particular series is SO ROMANTIC and LOVELY and I kinda wanna cry kinda wanna read it again and again. My favorite one in the series is Ya’aburnee but you have to read the ones preceding it to make any sort of sense. Also now that I’m looking at all of these again I’m realizing that apparently the second installment stuck with me more than I expected because I wrote more than 10k words of something that has a vaguely similar theme (which I will post later). 

Qumran and Reset - by J. Roddam. This author only ever seems to have written these two but they’re fucking EXQUISITE. I generally avoid AUs in this fandom because the concept of erasing Jane’s past does NOT sit right with me but Reset is one of the only exceptions I’ve made. It has soulmate vibes without being like, a tumblr soulmate story. Both of them are living SUCH different lives than their canon counterparts but somehow it actually works and it’s beautiful. Qumran is similarly without peer.

Pretending, I: Witness - @inkstainedfingers97. I wouldn’t even know where to start but I love every single thing about this fic - and it’s recently been completed! I was lucky enough to get to binge read a majority of it but waiting for updates was also genuinely thrilling too. Fake/Real Married for WITSEC reasons, real love for obvious reasons. Also the Lorelei dynamic is way more intense than on the show in a way that’s at once very uncomfortable and very believable.

27 Minutes - by Idan. Okay. Okay so this author commented on one of my fics and I almost lost it because I really love theirs. I was smiling for like an hour when I saw the notification from them!! 27 Min is my favorite one but In The Cards is widely rec’d by others for very good reason, it’s so good. The Pretender is also excellent, written based on promos of Orange Blossom Ice Cream and so a bit AU from there.

Eighteen Hours - I would definitely be remiss if I didn’t mention @leafenclaw (and actually, I was remiss because I realized while making this post that theirs were some of those early fics I read that I never +fave etc, so ty for the ask so I can do it now, anon). Leafenclaw writes SO well and I have an extra soft spot for them because they pointed me in the direction of a lot of fics and were one of the first ppl I ever spoke with in this fandom since luckily they’re on tumblr too. Also Kindred (note - both of these are still WIP but being updated/worked on!) Chasing Storms is complete, incredible, angsty, beautiful. Also I kind of want to borrow the idea of writing one story around a set of many prompts like this. I don’t actually think I’ve ever seen anyone else do that?

The Long Way Back - by LouiseKurylo I consider them sort of a friend because they’ve been SO supportive while I was writing  Saving Grace but even before that with a new suit, another pair of socks, and a terrible couch. And I’ve seen them supporting everybody else too - they’re just SO NICE. Their fics are also very interesting, and they sort of bring Jane and Lisbon much more into the real world. There’s more real life problems to go hand in hand with mentalist plot type problems, which makes for very interesting reading. Fischer in this particular fic is FASCINATING. Also, a hot tip @leafenclaw shared with me: Louise’s faves list has 500 stories in it and pretty much everything in there is worth reading.

Last but OBVIOUSLY not least I wanna mention some of the very cute and talented and actively posting people here on tumblr in our little mentalist squad of approximately 12 people lmao. You probably already know @gracevanpelt aka LilyThistle’s Big Blue, Red Road, Breathe, and Collusion. I have an especially soft spot for Breathe actually even though it’s the least plotty of the lot. I just think it works so perfectly on its own, as is, like a quiet little interlude. No muss no fuss as Jane would say - and I love it a lot. @asambergs aka cmbing’s how glad i am that you exist is actually the FIRST piece of Mentalist fic I ever read, and then I was pulled down this slippery slope to end up posting this at 11:52 pm on a Thursday night. And I’m not about to forget @pjane aka epaynter whose words are so beautifully atmospheric and who writes the softest Jane (I love Soft Jane and will fight anyone who disagrees about it!!)

Aaaand a nice and shameless self plug in the form of ao3 links: Come Fly With Me (this is the softest thing I’ve ever written), Saving Grace (an actual, complete, fully plotted fic. 14 year old me is SHAKING), a new suit, a terrible couch, another pair of socks (this last was inspired by @asambergs fics actually, and was the first thing I wrote in this fandom!)

[fandomandflowers]

Beta Reading Guide

A Beta Reader is someone who reads an Author’s, usually unpublished, fan-fiction, or work of writing. Not every Writer is a Beta Reader and not every Beta Reader is a Writer. There are many different ways to Beta Read and it is about finding what works for you and your Author.

To me, Beta Reading is about working with your Author to help them feel as though their work is the best it can be.

You’re offering an outside, Average Reader’s perspective which is incredibly useful in picking up plot holes, spelling and grammar mistakes, changes in tone or theme, and where a sentence structure may not be so good.

Just as there are different types of writers, there are different types of Beta Readers.

I, myself, have very little clue when it comes to Spelling, Punctuation and Grammar (or SPaG) so the Beta Readers I use are usually pretty good at that sort of stuff. At the same time though, I can manipulate dialogue and actions to express what the author wants to happen while also being in character. Everyone has a different skillset, and that is part of what makes fan-fiction writing so wonderful. Everything is different.

If you’re interested in becoming a Beta Reader then here are some things that may help you along the way:

Don’t Beta read ‘just for fun.’

While Beta reading is fun, please don’t be one of those people who offer to beta read just because of that. The first thing to know about Beta Reading is that it isn’t about you. That seems harsh, but at the end of the day, it is about helping the Author. While helping them is really fun, and a great way to build relationships with people, your main focus shouldn’t be on what you’re getting out of it, it should be about helping the Author put out the best work they can.

You’re allowed to say no.

This has its importance in every aspect of life, but here we’re talking about if someone asks you to Beta Read a fic for them. A simple ‘No, thank you,’ can save a world of trouble. You don’t have to have a reason, and you are under no obligation to share your reason if you have one. It is better to say no before you start than in the middle of looking into someone’s fic. While you can leave at any point you should never ghost an Author by just dropping out. It is always better to tell them you can’t do it anymore, Authors are lovely and understanding people (Or at least all the ones I have encountered).

Communication is so important!

I am a big fan of Google Docs! Even if you don’t usually use it for writing it is incredibly helpful for sharing, editing, suggesting, and communicating. There is a chat function on Docs, once there are two people (on desktop) in a Document, the chat function will be there in the top right of the screen. But if you and your writer don’t use Google Docs, you must have some other way of communicating. Discord is great; Whatsapp and Messenger work too if you are more familiar with your partner.

Be Open and Honest.

If you get squicked or triggered by certain things, or even if you just don’t like reading them, then let the Author know, because they know what is in their fic! While I know many people who have or do on a regular basis, it isn’t necessary to get squicked or triggered just to beta a fic for someone. If you tell your partner, it might only be one line, and they can block it out for you. If not, then you can move on to other projects.

Be honest about what you are and aren’t good at in terms of writing and editing. I always tell anyone who asks me to Beta for them that I am rubbish at picking up on SPaG errors. And it is okay that you aren’t good at everything, no one expects you to be, but it is expected that you know your own limits. Often Authors aren’t looking for a whole editing progress, just someone to go through it and tell them if it sounds alright.

Ask what the Author is looking for before you start reading.

Is the Author asking you for knowledge on Canon? For SPaG? Tone? Brit Picking? Plot holes? Dialogue? Is the Author asking you if you think everything is in character? It is important to know what sort of advice/help/information they are after so you know what to look at more closely.

If they explicitly tell you they aren’t after help with SPaG (or any other point) then don’t give it to them. Offering something like: ‘I noticed some spelling errors, would you like me to tell you about them?’ is perfectly fine, but if they ask you not to do something, then don’t.

It is also important to establish if this project has a time restraint. Many fests require Beta Readers and so an Author might have a due date enforced. Or they may simply prefer to get it posted as soon as possible. So ask how in-depth they want you to go; are they after accuracy or speed?

There are many different types of fics, and each is written differently so it is important to know what sort of fic theirs is. Crack? AU? Canon? You don’t want to be telling your Author all the Canon mistakes in an AU fic, and you don’t want to miss out telling them about Canon mistakes if you think the fic is supposed to be AU.

Some authors aren’t after a lot of robust and constructive criticism and instead are more looking for support and cheerleading. Also, I like to ask, if they haven’t finished the fic, whether they are looking for ideas on where to go next.

Suggest. Don’t Edit.

Never edit someone’s writing. That seems counter-intuitive, but what I mean is don’t write over what they have written. It is rude and a sure-fire way to make enemies.

I will say it again and again. I love Google Docs! You can change the setting to only make suggestions, so if you cut a word it only shows a strikethrough. Then that suggestion can be accepted or declined. This is great for editing and apart from that, it is also great as the author can pick up on mistakes they have made multiple times which helps them grow.

Commenting is excellent for giving ideas about specific sections, asking questions, and pointing out things you like and think work really well. If you don’t use Google Docs but are still editing on a word document then you have other options, but always ask the Author what they’d prefer. You can use [these handy brackets.] <These too.> You can change colors, or bolden your edits if there is no bold text in the rest of the document. Another alternative is to simply make a list, quote the unedited passage then list the changes that you think should be made, underneath.

If you think something major should be changed, explain why.

I like to do this with almost all my edits, to be honest. If I want to change the structure of a sentence, I explain: ‘I think this makes it more readable’, or 'I think this lends itself to the flow’, or 'I think this allows for more descriptive language’.

From the Author’s perspective, it can be hard to see why you’re suggesting changes. If there is a plot hole then explaining where or why it doesn’t work is incredibly helpful!

The authors are under no obligation to accept any of your suggestions.

Please don’t get offended if the author doesn’t accept a suggestion you made. At the end of the day, it is their creation and they are the ones to decide what happens. I love my Beta readers so much because they’re always seeing things I don’t. Sometimes they give suggestions and I love them, but they also don’t always work with the tone, or they might have changed a bit of foreshadowing… or as is more usual in my writing, they may have wanted to change a very stupid line that I love because I think it is funny, despite literally no-one else ever thinking so.

Try not to change the tone of a piece of writing.

Similar to the last point, this is the Author’s work, they decide the tone of what they’ve written. I tend to write more light-hearted, funny fics than sad and angsty ones so when I beta I try to avoid Beta reading those sorts of fics as my edits just tend to lean more toward making the fic light-hearted. Seeing as I don’t really do Brit-picking or SPaG edits then the type of fic is one of the first things I ask the creator if they want me to Beta.

If an author asks you to leave, then do not argue. Just leave.

You wouldn’t like an argument if you said no to Beta Reading, and likewise, the author doesn’t want an argument for asking you to leave. There are many reasons you might be asked to leave. Life could have gotten in the way, they might feel self-conscious about writing when others can see, they may not like your suggestions, they might feel like they don’t need any more advice or they simply don’t feel like having a beta reader anymore. While it isn’t common for an Author to ask someone to leave, it is perfectly valid and should never garner argument.

Talk to the Author about crediting you.

I only use AO3, so I am not sure about how things are on other sites. But often I will see in the ‘Author’s Notes’ a thank you to their Beta. This is lovely, I think. It lets the readers know that the writing has been Beta’d, it can make the Beta feel special, and it can work as advertising if the Beta is interested in other projects and wants to make a name for themself. There are also reasons why you may not like to be mentioned at all, if you prefer to stay anon, don’t want to be linked to the work or creator, or for no particular reason at all. So talking to the author about whether you want your name there if they decide to credit you is, I think, a good idea.

%%%

I hope this was helpful to at least someone out there. While things change in every situation, the most important thing is being able to communicate, whether you’re a Beta or Author (or both).

Beta Readers are honestly some of the most appreciated people. Ever since I learned what a Beta Reader is, I have learned so much and am so thankful to have friends who are always willing to check out my writing for me.

Special thanks to Streitkertoffel for helping me out Beta’ing my Beta Guide :P

[basilflowers]

Basil’s Guide to being a good Beta Reader.

A Beta Reader is someone who reads an Author’s, usually unpublished, fan-fiction, or work of writing.

In the Harry Potter fandom community, these are usually unpaid fans. Not every Writer is a Beta Reader and not every Beta Reader is a Writer. There are many different ways to Beta Read and it is about finding what works for you and your Author.

To me, Beta Reading is about working with your Author to help them feel as though their work is the best it can be.

You’re offering an outside, Average Reader’s perspective which is incredibly useful in picking up plot holes, spelling and grammar mistakes, changes in tone or theme, and where a sentence structure may not be good.

Just as there are different types of writers, there are different types of Beta Readers.

I, myself, have very little clue when it comes to Spelling, Punctuation and Grammar (or SPaG) so the Beta Readers I use are usually pretty good at that sort of stuff. At the same time though, I can manipulate dialogue and actions to express what the author wants to happen while also being in character. Everyone has a different skillset, and that is part of what makes fan-fiction writing so wonderful. Everything is different.

If you’re interested in becoming a Beta Reader then here are some things that may help you along the way:

Don’t Beta read ‘just for fun.’

While Beta reading is fun, please don’t be one of those people who offer to beta read just because of that. The first thing to know about Beta Reading is that it isn’t about you. That seems harsh, but at the end of the day, it is about helping the Author. While helping them is really fun, and a great way to build relationships with people, your main focus shouldn’t be on what you’re getting out of it, it should be about helping the Author put out the best work they can.

You’re allowed to say no.

This has its importance in every aspect of life, but here we’re talking about if someone asks you to Beta Read a fic for them. A simple ‘No, thank you,’ can save a world of trouble. You don’t have to have a reason, and you are under no obligation to share your reason if you have one. It is better to say no before you start than in the middle of looking into someone’s fic. While you can leave at any point you should never ghost an Author by just dropping out. It is always better to tell them you can’t do it anymore, Authors are lovely and understanding people (Or at least all the ones I have encountered).

Communication is so important!

I am a big fan of Google Docs! Even if you don’t usually use it for writing it is incredibly helpful for sharing, editing, suggesting, and communicating. There is a chat function on Docs, once there are two people (on desktop) in a Document, the chat function will be there in the top right of the screen. But if you and your writer don’t use Google Docs, you must have some other way of communicating. Discord is great; Whatsapp and Messenger work too if you are more familiar with your partner.

Be Open and Honest.

If you get squicked or triggered by certain things, or even if you just don’t like reading them, then let the Author know, because they know what is in their fic! While I know many people who have or do on a regular basis, it isn’t necessary to get squicked or triggered just to beta a fic for someone. If you tell your partner, it might only be one line, and they can block it out for you. If not, then you can move on to other projects.

Be honest about what you are and aren’t good at in terms of writing and editing. I always tell anyone who asks me to Beta for them that I am rubbish at picking up on SPaG errors. And it is okay that you aren’t good at everything, no one expects you to be, but it is expected that you know your own limits. Often Authors aren’t looking for a whole editing progress, just someone to go through it and tell them if it sounds alright.

Ask what the Author is looking for before you start reading. 

Is the Author asking you for knowledge on Canon? For SPaG? Tone? Brit Picking? Plot holes? Dialogue? Is the Author asking you if you think everything is in character? It is important to know what sort of advice/help/information they are after so you know what to look at more closely. 

If they explicitly tell you they aren’t after help with SPaG (or any other point) then don’t give it to them. Offering something like: ‘I noticed some spelling errors, would you like me to tell you about them?’ is perfectly fine, but if they ask you not to do something, then don’t.

It is also important to establish if this project has a time restraint. Many fests require Beta Readers and so an Author might have a due date enforced. Or they may simply prefer to get it posted as soon as possible. So ask how in-depth they want you to go; are they after accuracy or speed?

There are many different types of fics, and each is written differently so it is important to know what sort of fic theirs is. Crack? AU? Canon? You don’t want to be telling your Author all the Canon mistakes in an AU fic, and you don’t want to miss out telling them about Canon mistakes if you think the fic is supposed to be AU.

Some authors aren’t after a lot of robust and constructive criticism and instead are more looking for support and cheerleading. Also, I like to ask, if they haven’t finished the fic, whether they are looking for ideas on where to go next.

Suggest. Don’t Edit.

Never edit someone’s writing. That seems counter-intuitive, but what I mean is don’t write over what they have written. It is rude and a sure-fire way to make enemies.

I will say it again and again. I love Google Docs! You can change the setting to only make suggestions, so if you cut a word it only shows a strikethrough. Then that suggestion can be accepted or declined. This is great for editing and apart from that, it is also great as the author can pick up on mistakes they have made multiple times which helps them grow.

Commenting is excellent for giving ideas about specific sections, asking questions, and pointing out things you like and think work really well. If you don’t use Google Docs but are still editing on a word document then you have other options, but always ask the Author what they’d prefer. You can use [these handy brackets.] <These too.> You can change colors, or bolden your edits if there is no bold text in the rest of the document. Another alternative is to simply make a list, quote the unedited passage then list the changes that you think should be made, underneath.

If you think something major should be changed, explain why.

I like to do this with almost all my edits, to be honest. If I want to change the structure of a sentence, I explain: 'I think this makes it more readable', or 'I think this lends itself to the flow', or 'I think this allows for more descriptive language'.

From the Author’s perspective, it can be hard to see why you’re suggesting changes. If there is a plot hole then explaining where or why it doesn’t work is incredibly helpful!

The authors are under no obligation to accept any of your suggestions.

Please don’t get offended if the author doesn’t accept a suggestion you made. At the end of the day, it is their creation and they are the ones to decide what happens. I love my Beta readers so much because they’re always seeing things I don’t. Sometimes they give suggestions and I love them, but they also don’t always work with the tone, or they might have changed a bit of foreshadowing… or as is more usual in my writing, they may have wanted to change a very stupid line that I love because I think it is funny, despite literally no-one else ever thinking so.

Try not to change the tone of a piece of writing.

Similar to the last point, this is the Author’s work, they decide the tone of what they’ve written. I tend to write more light-hearted, funny fics than sad and angsty ones so when I beta I try to avoid Beta reading those sorts of fics as my edits just tend to lean more toward making the fic light-hearted. Seeing as I don’t really do Brit-picking or SPaG edits then the type of fic is one of the first things I ask the creator if they want me to Beta.

If an author asks you to leave, then do not argue. Just leave.

You wouldn’t like an argument if you said no to Beta Reading, and likewise, the author doesn’t want an argument for asking you to leave. There are many reasons you might be asked to leave. Life could have gotten in the way, they might feel self-conscious about writing when others can see, they may not like your suggestions, they might feel like they don’t need any more advice or they simply don’t feel like having a beta reader anymore. While it isn’t common for an Author to ask someone to leave, it is perfectly valid and should never garner argument. 

Talk to the Author about crediting you.

I only use AO3, so I am not sure about how things are on other sites. But often I will see in the ‘Author’s Notes’ a thank you to their Beta. This is lovely, I think. It lets the readers know that the writing has been Beta’d, it can make the Beta feel special, and it can work as advertising if the Beta is interested in other projects and wants to make a name for themself. There are also reasons why you may not like to be mentioned at all, if you prefer to stay anon, don’t want to be linked to the work or creator, or for no particular reason at all. So talking to the author about whether you want your name there if they decide to credit you is, I think, a good idea. 

%%%

I hope this was helpful to at least someone out there. While things change in every situation, the most important thing is being able to communicate, whether you’re a Beta or Author (or both).

Beta Readers are honestly some of the most appreciated people. Ever since I learned what a Beta Reader is, I have learned so much and am so thankful to have friends who are always willing to check out my writing. 

Special thanks to Streitkertoffel for helping me out Beta’ing my Beta Guide :P % Basil Flowers %

[sagemoderocklee]

Hello! For the meta asks, would you do 1, 5, 8, and 17?

you did not come to play, lilac! thanks for all these questions! <3

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

oh lord. that’s a... question. i have. so many current projects, i don’t even know where to start. this is gonna be long so please bear with me lol i’ll probably give more detail for some fics over others, and i’ll only go over fics I’ve got documents for because otherwise we’d be here forever.

The Art of Love: so this one is obvious because it’s been in progress for the last 2ish years? no i think it’s three now. I won’t go into detail with this because the fic is roughly halfway through, so there’s plenty of content for that up! I’d say the progress with that fic is actually going really well, though. Unlike Alliance, which took 8 years--five years of writing, three of editing--TAoL has been up for way less time, and is already about to hit the halfway mark! I really need to get back to it, tbh because it’s been way too long since my last update.

Honor Bound (sequel to Alliance): so this is.... kind of on pause. I’ve got the first three chapters written, but my focus has been more on TAoL when it comes to my more complicated, long running stories, so HB has taken a backseat. I think I won’t get back to working on the Allied Nations Saga until after TAoL is done, in all honesty.

Find Me: this is my HS AU, which has been on the back burner forever and I feel terrible because I think it may honestly be my most popular fic. Unfortunately, AUs/slice of life stuff is difficult for me because I’m more interested in politics, so I lost momentum on this fic. It is about halfway done. I have a good chunk of chapter six written, but not enough that I could say I’m close to finishing it.

It Eats Your Heart: obviously I just started this one, and it’s a horror fic. I’ve really gotta sit down and do some major plotting on it because I only have some very vague ideas currently.

Pearl-Filled Lungs: this is one of like three ningyo AUs I have--the other are pirate/ningyo AUs (and ones actually a selkie not a ningyo). I started it last year for the GaaLee fest, and it’s been sitting unfinished for far too long. I finally sat down recently and plotted the whole thing out, so I’m hoping to get back to working on it soon! It’s only 5 chapters in total, so I don’t think it’ll take me super long to get through once I sit down and do it.

Who Dares to Love Forever: This is a working title, and I may change it. This is a fic idea I’ve had for a couple years, inspired by the song Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen. This particular fic is a vehicle for my sage mode!rock lee headcanon, and explores just how effective Chiyo giving Gaara her life would have been given she was an old biddy. So the idea for this fic is that Gaara’s running out of time because Chiyo only had so much to offer.

Absolution: this is another fic that I’ve had on the back burner for years. it was initially inspired by art by @brianadoesotherjunk but quickly spiraled into something much bigger because of course it did. This particular fic is one I’m extremely excited about. I need to go back over the first part, because I feel like it’s not quite right, but I do technically have the first part done. This fic follows Gaara struggling with bouts of narcolepsy that trigger nightmares induced by trauma and guilt from his childhood. These nightmares are incredibly dangerous for obvious reasons, but even more so because Temari’s baby is on the way. Temari and Shikamaru are married, living in the Kazekage estate, and with their baby coming and both needing/wanting to get back to work, they also need a nanny. Unbeknownst to Gaara, the year prior to the events of the fic, Maito Gai died, succumbing to the 8th Gate finally, and Lee has since been spiraling. His depression has become so self-destructive that he’s been taken off active duty. Shikamaru, along with the rest of the Konoha 12 (minus Neji and Sasuke), get together and discuss what to do. Tenten believes that Lee being a nanny would be the perfect thing. And so Rock Lee is sent to Suna, hired by Shikamaru and Temari as their live-in nanny...

We Need Not Be Yellow Tulips in a Garden of Gardenia’s, Yet We Go the Way of the Red Camellia: true to form, I decided that a hanahaki fic was something I had to do, and I was not going to pass up the chance at being as Extra As Possible with the flowery language, ergo the ridiculous title. I’ve gotten part way through the first chapter of this fic, but the whole thing is roughly plotted out and each chapter title is just as extra as the whole fic’s title.

Thirteen Strokes: so this is a fic I have--once again--had on my mind for ages, and--once again, because I am nothing if not a caricature of myself--inspired by a Florence+the Machine song, All This and Heaven Too. I started writing this the other night, as I wanna use it for GaaLee bingo. It’ll be 13 chapters, as per the 13 strokes that it takes to make the character for love, ai, in Japanese. The fic is from Gaara’s PoV, and follows his journey with and his relationship to love, with lots of worldbuilding and politics because it wouldn’t be an Eeri Original without those things.

Scarification: this is another idea for bingo based around the prompt shinshoubyou, which is a fictional disease where your emotions cause physical marks on you

Fill in the [  ]: another bingo idea, based around the prompt bouaishoukoigun, the fictional disease where you forget the person you love if it’s unrequited.

The Eagle’s Augury: an idea that allows me to play around with more worldbuilding and focus on Karura. In this fic, the curse (mentioned briefly on the Naruto wikia) that has led to every single Kazekage being assassinated, is coming for Gaara, and Karura is trying to warn him from beyond the grave. At the same time, Temari and Shikamaru’s marriage is approaching, and their ceremony is being held in Suna, with all the fan fair a marriage for someone from the Kazekage line should see. Again, another fic inspired by Miss Florence+the Machine, the song is Mother

Pomegranate Sun: this is a fic that I am... so excited about. Another fic that was originally inspired by a Queen song, Under Pressure, and has of course taken on a life of its own. This fic, I am actually going to be writing with @ghoste-catte! It’s an arranged marriage trope, and I’m super pumped for it! We’ve only got a little bit started, and it has obviously not taken priority for either of us since we both have a lot of fics on our plates.

The Ballad of the Dragon and the Phoenix: this is a fic I’m really excited but is going to take a LOT of research to get off the ground. I had this idea sometime last year, I wanna say? This fic is another self-indulgent headcanon about Lee’s origins, his family, etc. This fic starts when Gaara shows up on Lee’s doorstep, asking him to accompany him to another country for reasons Lee cannot understand. Gaara has been in talks with Phoenix Kingdom, hoping to forge a new relationship only to find that the Emperor wants to use shinobi for militaristic purposes. Lee doesn’t understand what help he could possibly offer the Kazekage, but he can’t very well turn him down.

okay, i’m gonna stop there. these are the ones I have titles and documents for, and honestly that’s probably way more than you wanted to know about lol

5. What character that you’re writing do you most identify with? 

Despite the fact that most of my fics end up from Gaara’s PoV, I actually identify with Lee the most!

8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?

Yes! Which is hard to find, tbh, because I am a sucker for political dramas with slow burn romances, but I don’t see a lot of that in the GaaLee fandom. I’m not as into like slice of life or short stories where the characters get together quick, I’m really not into established relationship fics unless it’s a sequel, so I tend to avoid those. I like AUs but it really depends on the AU, because I ultimately prefer the canon and I love seeing the way people write the shinobi world and all its rules and cultures and things. I’m just a big fan of worldbuilding, politics, and slow slow burns. Not this 25k SLOW BURN! crap because that is NOT a slow burn. I wanna see a fic that’s 200k words in and they still haven’t even figured out they’re in love! I like stories I can really sink my teeth into, ya know?

17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?

Oh gosh. I generally don’t think too much about it except like hoping people don’t think I’m like a stuck up asshole because of how I talk about my writing, writing in general, my hcs, etc. I mean, obviously I don’t expect everyone in this fandom to like me--and there are ppl I’ve gone out of my way to be vocally against because they do nasty shit--but largely I feel like I come across as too intense, so even the general population of GaaLee fans that I do want to interact with I’m always a lil nervous that people secretly don’t like me and basically are like “oh god this bitch again” when they see me in the tags. But I just get really excited and invested in my ideas, and honestly for the longest time this fandom was SO small and there weren’t a lot of people putting out content regularly so it was like a handful of us so I think it made me more emphatic about GaaLee lol I think I always like assume people aren’t as excited about my writing as I am or that people are like “too much politic, i need more romance”.

I’m always surprised when people really love my AUs, like Kado or Find Me have had such fantastic reception, and it’s like people just eat that shit up so much. And then I look at like Alliance or Art of Love and get kind of confused because I think by comparison those are more interesting and more developed than my AUs. I put a shit ton of work into everything I write, especially anything that requires research, so it’s not to say that I do less work per say, just that I feel like TAoL and things like it are more interesting and more developed, and the relationship feels.... somehow more to me there than in an AU.

a lot of my motivation really just comes from the lack of content this fandom had for so many years, and the fact that Naruto could have been a much more interesting series and I love worldbuilding so much. I think my motivation for each fic is different though. Like Alliance was started because I wanted to write something different from what was mainly in the fandom at the time because mind you I started that in 2010. But my motivation for TAoL is more wanting to tell a beautiful story with a complex narrative that looks at the failings of the shinobi world. Whereas like any slice of life fic is really just meant to be a fun break. And sometimes I write something literally just because I wanted to fulfill that trope for the GaaLee fandom--again, a lot of my ideas have been sitting for years and years and years (TAoL was an idea I had literally right after starting Alliance, but I didn’t get to it until 2017), so a lot of ideas that are old are because at the time that trope hadn’t been fulfilled yet in the fandom though that’s changing a lot with the recent GaaLee Renaissance of the last couple years.

[vagrantblvrd]

Oh my gosh I love the pairings for the concubine post. What about jeremwood or jerevin or jerevinwood, or jeremavinwood or jeremichael? To be honest I can see most of those working really well as well. I know you mentioned jeremwood so I’m really curious on your take? Sorry for any misspellings

Well, if you insist on twisting my arm like this, Anon! ;P (jk, I was thinking about these on the way home and your ask came at the perfect time, so yes??? Also I kind of stray from the original premise a few times, so sorry about that???)

Jeremwood:

So, okay. Let’s have baby Ryan whose parents died when he was a kid, so there’s been a regent (Geoff and Jack or someone along those lines in charge until Ryan comes of age, which is kind of ironic to Geoff because he’s not that much older than Ryan himself, always a bit of an older brother figure to him and such, but Plot Reasons.)

Conveniently for Plot Reasons, Ryan’s going to be of age in this particular AU.

Ryan’s parents may have been a bit on tyrannical side of things and due to civil unrest and the whatnot while Geoff and Jack set to putting things to right after their deaths they decide it would be wise to keep him out of the public view.

They make sure he has the best of everything they can give him – education, care, and they do love him – but there are major security reasons to limit the access others have to him and so on.

He grows up sheltered in that way. Not spoiled, or at least to a ridiculous degree, because Geoff and Jack both feel guilty about how they help raise him and overcompensate at times.

Ryan grows up knowing about the things his parents did – great and terrible and all that – and how it affected their people. The impact they have even now, a decade and change after their deaths. (Still those out there who think their madness was passed on to their son and have tried and tried to get to him to end the bloodline while they can because Drama.)

And Ryan, okay. He grows up knowing all about this, seeing Geoff and Jack injured in assassination attempts and all that – and after one that comes too close for anyone’s peace of mind, Geoff and Jack decide he should pursue additional schooling/education out of the kingdom.

Frame it as totally not being related to the time someone almost killed Ryan in his own home (again), but widening his life experiences before he takes the throne and everything.

They all know it’s a flimsy excuse, but Ryan feels too guilty to protest as strongly as he might have if their explanation was the truth.

Geoff and Jack send him off with the Twins and Michael at the head of his little entourage (just the four of them to avoid drawing too much attention because surely someone of Ryan’s import would have a grand entourage and such).

Neither Geoff and or Jack like it, but Michael’s proven himself trustworthy time and again, lifted from the ranks of city guard to castle guard to one of Ryan’s personal guards. Trevor and Alfredo are two of their most promising spies/assassins and equally loyal and most importantly, Ryan likes them. (Closest thing to friends he has, even if he thinks they see him more as a Duty than a friend, but you know. He’s kind of dumb like that.)

Anyway, anyway, all this going on and Ryan’s finished his schooling and is headed home where the coronation and all is supposed to take place before summer’s end. (Because reasons?)

They have a mostly uneventful journey home, Ryan getting a little anxious the closer they get because he, too, is concerned he may have inherited his parents’ madness.

Michael insists he’d knock any nonsense like theirs out of his head if he shows signs of madness, and while it’s worth a good laugh, he also knows Michael is serious. (As serious as the Twins and the promise he insisted on they do their duty to the kingdom if he became the same sort of monsters his parents were.)

He still worries. (Remembers overhearing Geoff and Jack when they got a little too into their drink late on winter nights and the way their own parents were executed by Ryan’s for committing treason and just. Wow, a lot to unpack there especially because the two of them never held his parents’ acts against him and just yes. He’s worried he’ll go mad and since they’re among the closest, most dangerous threats to anything he might do of course they’d have to be dealt with first.)

So, you know.

Ryan’s all fucked up about going mad and everything and also just learning to be a good ruler even though Geoff and Jack will serve as close advisors and so on.

And then!

There’s a storm or bandit attack that scatters their little group, has Ryan ending up in this tiny podunk village where they don’t ask questions. (Too many, at any rate.)

He has to wait the storm out there, worried for the others but they’re skilled fighters and he’s not with them so they should be safer?

And anyway, he notices this village is barely hanging on. Not like the other villages he’d seen on his journey to and from the neighboring country he went to school. The brief tours Geoff and Jack would allow him when he was younger.

Finds out they’re not receiving the aid they should, that the bandits are rampant and overall it’s gone unnoticed too long. (Greedy nobles squeezing what they can from them because they’re sitting on valuable land or there are mines rich with ore the people won’t relinquish and so on and so forth.)

And!

There’s a guard from a nearby city on leave, visiting the family who took him in when his parents were killed in a bandit raid years and years ago.

Bright smile and infectious laughter and – totally against some outdated order of the kingdom – teaching the men and kids of the village how to fight. (Something, something, incite rebellion against the crown if the people were properly taught to fight and all that.)

The guard knows if he’s caught out he’ll face jail, or execution, but what else can he do when his village is suffering and they’ve been denied help? So he made himself someone who could protect them by learning to fight and passing his knowledge on.

And Ryan, okay.

At first he’s all :O at the guard’s brazenness – he teaches them in broad daylight where just anyone can see!

But then Jeremy notices the stranded stranger watching and calls him over – doesn’t know what he thinks he’s doing because this is bound to land him in hot water, but hey, you know.

Poor guy was separated from his traveling party by bandits and he was injured in the fray and maybe he should learn how to defend himself?

So Ryan ends up as his training partner and Ryan is totally handling it just fine, you know? Especially when Jeremy corrects his technique (wouldn’t do to give away the fact Ryan’s a decent fighter in his own right because his cover story!!1!) by stepping in close and repositioning his grip on his weapon and so on and so forth.

The bright smile and genuine delight when he praises Ryan when he gets a move right. (Ryan being thrown and pinned and all that Good Shit when Jeremy disarms him and shows him – and their audience – how to stay alive until they can get a weapon in their hands.

Jeremy breaking off every so often to help the others, encourage the kids to keep at it because practice is how you improve! Mistakes are part of learning! And other uplifting things.

And then it rains again, everyone running to shelter and Ryan ends up eating in the humble little home of Jeremy’s adopted family and just.

A lot of Things I Love all tossed together.

And then!

A few days later Michael and the others find Ryan again and they have to finish their trek back to the castle.

Michael and the others giving Ryan and Jeremy Privacy while they make their goodbyes and totally not giving Ryan grief about it on the way back to the castle. (They would never!!11)

Ryan gets home and there’s a Touching Reunion between him and Geoff and Jack and once he’s settled back in they get on with the coronation business.

Shortly after Ryan’s coronation Trevor sidles over to let him know there’s Serious Business to see to at court, a matter of Treason ans such?

Ryan is like, well shit, because it’s like the billionth time since he took the throne. (Assassination attempts and Plotting To Overthrow the Mad King and so on.)

When the offender if brought before him it’s Jeremy.

Bound in chains and looking ragged like he’s been ill-treated before being brought to court for his crimes.

Which, as it turns out, is the whole teaching the people in his village how to fight? (Ryan’s enemies digging deep, or a sycophant chancing upon Jeremy hoping to curry favor with Ryan for exposing this nobody who is clearly out to incite rebellion.)

Trevor and Alfredo have obviously been keeping close watch on Jeremy – Ryan clearly liked him *wink wink* and also Jeremy’s own Potential and such – so they intervened when he was arrested and insisted he be brought before Ryan.

And then!

Someone rips the hood off Jeremy’s head and he’s like. He figures he’s going to be executed so he comes out firing, lays out this list of injustices against his village and others like it out there and just goes on and on and on until he runs out of breath.

The whole court is silent because such insolence?

Trevor clears his throat, which is Ryan’s cue to speak – he flubs badly - but recovers and addresses Jeremy’s grievances with the due respect they deserve, promises change will happen and Jeremy is like what the shit, because that’s Ryan???

Idiot who didn’t know how to hold s sword and always ended up on his back in the mud no matter how blatantly Jeremy telegraphed his moves and oh shit oh shit oh shit, he’s the king???

And then!!1!

Because Ryan can’t just let the whole Treason business slide, he does Research. Makes the mistake of asking Geoff what he should do – Jeremy’s not wrong for anything he did- and Geoff okay.

Super fucking Tired of everything makes what’s meant to be a throwaway joke about this insanely old tradition of the king and concubines and whatever. Something from the days their people were conquerors and Ryan is like !!!

And so he goes down to the dungeon cell Jeremy’s in. Michael goes along too, because people are constantly trying to kill Ryan and the king is a goddamned moron, but he gives them the semblance of privacy as Ryan fumbles his way to explaining his offer to Jeremy?

Jeremy who just stares at Ryan because what the actual hell is happening? (But you know, given the choice between public execution or pretending to be Ryan’s concubine? It’s an easy enough choice.)

Jeremy has the chance to ~earn his freedom for services rendered (he almost, almost laughs at the way Ryan’s face turns bright red during this part because lol, what a fearsome tyrant he is. Lost to his own madness and so on) and all that.

And then it’s just.

Romcom shenanigans with Jeremy swanning around taking advantage of his new job title or whatever you want to call it. Enjoys fucking with Ryan once he realizes he really is an idiot. He and Michael get along too well for Ryan’s peace of mind – they’re terrible enough on their own, but absolutely horrible when they team up.

Ryan can’t tell if the Twins are teaching Jeremy or if it’s the other way around, and is too scared to ask.

Geoff and Jack are freaking dying over Ryan being the one to Suffer for once.

And then there’s some Grand Conspiracy against Ryan Jeremy helps thwart? Pretends to go along with the conspirators because he’s been turned into a concubine and surely will want his revenge and Ryan is all :((((((((((((((((((((((( thinking Jeremy’s been playing him for a fool this entire time, that it was all an act – but then Jeremy reveals it was all a plot to capture the conspirators and Ryan you dunce, of course Jeremy’s madly in love with you.

And then, like.

Romance???

Ryan finally able to push new laws through that the conspirators who have been blocking them for so long are either dead or disgraced and everyone else are in favor of these changes.

Happily ever after for everyone, although Ryan laments the days Jeremy would go around shirtless all the time. (Not proper for the king’s husband, although Jeremy indulges him when they can because Ryan’s just that ridiculous.)

Jerevin:

Newly crowned king, Gavin plays the part of a fool because his is a small kingdom, right? In no real position to go to war over the smallest slight. Seems to bow and scrape to other kings and queens and only those paying close attention realize his kingdom gets the better part of any deal they make.

Perhaps not immediately noticeable, some take years to show the benefits they’ll reap, but his kingdom is happy and prosperous.

(The kingdom straddles a mountain range with treacherous paths and only a few routes viable for those on either side, so they see a lot of trade and the whatnot. Have managed to avoid war for generation by knowing how to negotiate deals with all parties coming away from the table satisfied and such.)

Jeremy’s a young guard who was born in a neighboring country and found himself enlisting in Gavin’s army...because reasons and circumstances. (Former street rat and no loyalty to any royal, but he’s heard good things about this new king and anyway, he’ll get a roof over his head and meals and coin for his pouch. Better deal than anything else he could find and he’s only expected to serve for three, four years  at most.)

He’s there in Gavin’s entourage on the way back from a negotiation when there’s an ambush – regular bandits or something more, no one knows – and he saves Gavin’s life.

Takes an arrow to the knee and tries to laugh it off when Gavin goes to the healer’s tent to check on him. All those stories he’d heard from city guards and veteran soldiers. Worried about future prospects but at least he’s alive?

And then there’s a misunderstanding or some such. Gavin just wanted to repay him for saving his life, intended to find him a suitable position in the castle proper once everything settled down some, but you know.

Suddenly everyone thinks Gavin took a liking to this young guard and made him his concubine?

Perhaps there was a Thing before the ambush in which the two of them stayed up all night playing card games or whatever in Gavin’s chambers. People thinking it was a bit more intimate than Gavin falling asleep partway through the night because exhaustion from his duties and Jeremy putting him to bed with this goofy little smile because FEELS and keeping watch.

Gavin being utterly mortified while Jeremy is initially confused because deciding to make the most of it. (Makes Gavin’s skeptics super uncomfortable and teases the hell out of Gavin and general romcom shenanigans before they get their shit together and realize they have FEELINGS for one another and happily ever after.)

Jerevinwood:

This whole plot where Gavin’s entourage is ambushed and while no one is killed, Gavin’s the only one fit to travel.

Michael and the others refuse to let Gavin go on without protection of some sort even though he insists he can look after himself -

And exasperate with their stubbornness, turns to this pair of mercenaries that were instrumental in turning the tide of the ambush in their favor.

Not even from his kingdom, but their own loyalty it to one another and other cliches, and he offers them a ridiculous amount of money to safeguard him until he’s back at the castle and among other loyal to him.

Ryan and Jeremy are kind of uneasy about it, but easy enough money and they were headed that direction anyway.

Not their fault if they develop feelings for this foolish little king along the way and vice versa.

Get back to the castle where Gavin spins a lie about his entourage taking ill – food poisoning or whatever – and traveling behind him as they’re able. (Something, something conspiracy?)

And oh, look. Treat Ryan and Jeremy nice, he’s rather sweet on them.

Ryan and Jeremy hamming it up as his concubines and daring the advisors who are part of the conspiracy to Do Something when they correct the two of them whenever they challenge the baddies on some bit of strategy or whatever.

General sort of romcom shenanigans mixed with Intrigue and so on.

Michael and the others get back to the castle just as things  reach the boiling point and then like. Battles and fighting and Ryan and Jeremy saving Gavin’s life and exposing the traitors in the process, because Drama.

And then Gavin being all :((((((((((((((((( because he thinks Ryan and Jeremy are that skilled as actors and Michael kind of wanting to throttle his idiot king. Kicks him out of the castle and tells him to bring those other idiots back before someone else hires them as his concubines and it turns into utter ridiculousness. (Also Touching and Heartfelt reunions in a forest glen beside a babbling brook and Confessions of Undying Love and also smooches.)

(I really, really, love these three in this scenario? But in my head it’s a mix of Drama and Romcom and just them being the biggest idiots ever. XD)

Jeremavinwood:

Okay.

So.

Young King Jeremy with personal guard Michael who’s injured protecting his king and general misunderstandings and awkwardness of everyone thinking Jeremy’s claimed Michael as his concubine? (Kind of a twisted childhood sweethearts deal.)

Featuring Gavin and Ryan who are members of the thieves/assassin’s guild in the city but due to Reasons no one knows which of them belongs to what guild?

The love fucking with people about it and so do their guild members, and anyway, the guilds are so closely allied it doesn’t matter?

So you’ve got Gavin and Ryan occasionally breaking into the castle – testing security and toying with spymaster Trevor and his Alfredo (No one knows what Alfredo does aside from Trevor and Alfredo and honestly, it’s too much trouble to ask, so.)

Those moments when Gavin just pops up out of nowhere, dagger at Jeremy’s throat and a cheerful grin asking him where his guards are now before things devolve to hand-to-hand and one/both of them pinning the other and mischievous grins and almost kissing before they’re reminded of propriety and their positions and suchlike? Or Ryan stalking Michael down int eh city or castle halls and an impromptu sparring match with Ryan being a smug prick riling Michael up – Michael letting Ryan think he’s riled him before he turns the tables on him and knocks his feet out from under him and also the pinning of one another.

Gavin dropping in on Michael and asking him the most infuriating questions while Michael’s working on his swordsmanship against a dummy until he decides Gavin’s footwork needs polishing. Ryan sprawled on Jeremy’s throne on a night when Jeremy’s head is full of turmoil and he doubts his decisions as king. Ryan taunting and needling him until Jeremy has a breakthrough moment of realizing he’s not a perfect ruler but he tries to be, and that’s a hell of a start and so on.

And just.

The four of them with this odd relationship that is the talk of the kingdom – everyone knows but there’s never any evidence. (With the thieves and assassin’s guilds involved, of course there isn’t.)

And then comes a day when Gavin and Ryan are accused of Jeremy and Michael's murders and have to break out of the dungeons after they've been captured.

At first it’s to bring the real killers to justice/get their revenge? But then they learn it’s a Conspiracy and Jeremy and Michael are still alive so they have to rescue them and then do the bring the baddies to justice/revenge bit.

If they’re forced to confront their FEELINGS for those two idiots and vice versa in the process – then that’s the price they have to pay.

(Because of course Jeremy and Michael have been told Gavin and Ryan are going to be executed for their “murders”, will be forced to watch it before they’re killed to cover everything up and God knows they’re going to do their damnedest to escape/make the baddies pay for their crimes.)

Super dramatic reunion scene/climactic battle and then like. ALL the FEELINGS as they finally admit they’re totally in love with one another and have been for ages and EVERYONE KNEW THIS WHOLE TIME BUT THEM.

Jeremichael:

So this is one that sticks closest to the original premise in my head?

Michael and Jeremy who train together as kids.

Jeremy from a poor village who intends to send what money he can home to his family and the village and young prince Michael whose parents think it’s best he not think himself too above the people whose welfare he’s responsible for.

They become good friends early on – maybe a bit of youth and ego at first, but that fades as they get to know one another over time. Goes from being something on it’s way to ugly and bitter to friendly teasing as they work together to improve their skills.

And then there’s an accident, some stupid little thing, and Jeremy’s going to be sent back to his village once he’s healed enough. Won’t ever become a guard with that limp or whatever else injury, but he’s young enough he can learn a trade. (Bitter seed planted in his heart because he doesn’t have the money to gain an apprenticeship, but pride and whatnot.)

Michael doesn’t know until later, Jeremy about to be sent home and he rushes to find him. Thought he’d done something to make Jeremy mad with him, not knowing Jeremy thought the same about Michael and that was why Michael never came to see him after the accident.

Michael catches him as he’s packing to leave and panicking he latches onto the last thing his tutors drilled into his head, old, outdated (barbaric) traditions having to do with concubines and blurts out an idea to keep Jeremy with him?

Tells him he’ll have a roof over his head and food and money to send home and all that and misses the way Jeremy’s face twists. (Budding feeling for Michael soured by this Deal Michael wants to make with him and of course, of course Michael wouldn’t see him in that way. He's going to be king, and Jeremy’s some poor kid who lost his chance at being someone.)

Still.

The prospect of being able to help his family and his village are too good to pass up and he accepts.

Michael insists on Jeremy being his training partner so he still learns how to fight properly even if he tires easier and the like. (Thinks Michael’s being kind when he tells Jeremy he’s improving and all that even thought Michael’s telling him the truth. Because okay, sure. Jeremy’s not as strong as he used to be, but he’s still fast and clever and compensates for his injury in brilliant ways.)

Jeremy acts as both ~concubine/advisor/additional bodyguard and falls even more in love with Michael who doesn’t seem to notice?

Meanwhile, Michael is head over heels for Jeremy but is super aware of abusing his power/position in life and thinks Jeremy couldn’t possibly like him in That Way.

Cue abominable amounts of Pining until there’s an Incident.

Some terrible storm while they’re on a ship to meet with a potential suitor for Michael and end up stranded on an island (because reasons) and have to rely on one another to survive until rescue comes.

And then FEELINGS and Realizations and just when they’re about to get to the whole Confessions bit, a fisherman happens upon their island and brings them home.

Michael’s swept away to deal with his Duties and the like and Jeremy is mostly ignored and they don’t see one another until there’s a fancy ball.

Michael’s birthday or a solstice or something, and Michael’s all dressed up and so is Jeremy and they have that oh no, not only is he hot but he cleans up real nice moment when they see one another for the first time that night.

Michael’s supposed to pay attention to the various royals who traveled to meet with hi as possible suitors, but he has eyes only for Jeremy and vice versa.

They sneak off to a quiet corner and awkwardly compliment one another and make small talk. Stop to watch the fireworks display overhead and there’s this series of horribly awkward events that ends in their hands brushing together. Eyes drawn towards their hands, slowly lifting so their gazes meet and they decide independently of one another fuck it because this may be their only chance to steal a smooch, right?

Michael's meant to marry and have heirs and Jeremy...he’s a sham, a fraud. Never made it as a soldier/guard and  a poor choice of concubine, so please, please, please let him have this one thing.

And then they kiss, and kiss again, and just kind of don’t stop until one/both of them confesses their love and then it’s just this slippery slope of requited love and all that until there’s really no choice but for them to get married, you know?

Horrible, really. (However will they manage???)

[dreamercail]

nanowrimo musings 2.0

so like five years ago I did a little nanowrimo retrospective where I talked a little bit about each story I wrote and what I thought about it. I’ve been thinking of doing another one while also avoiding other responsibilities so join me on this walk down memory lane:

PUTTING UNDER CUT CUZ IT’S A LOT OF WORDS WHOOPS

Silicon (2009) - Oh geez, I hate to even count this one, but it was my first ever nano attempt so I gotta. A story about Theresa Lee, a girl who unknowingly is an android (closer to a cyborg?), and the team running the experiment. I don’t even think I made it to 10,000 words. Features: first attempts at an intergenerational friendship and an interesting framing device. I don’t think I’ve opened the file in at least 10 years. This is probably for the better.

Relapse of Vernadora (2010) - my first NaNo win! Originally started off steampunk inspired but I have no idea what the final product was (there were airships?? and that was really it). A story about a half dozen Chosen Ones™️ who represent ~elemental abilities~ and they have to...save the country they’re in?? Because it happens every couple hundred years?? I don’t really know. Featuring: a fun first half of interconnecting stories and dialogue that sounds like bad anime fan fiction. Overall a yikes from me but I still love Chira Chronum as a character and will until I die.

Colossal (2011) - I will always label this one as the most read amongst people I know. It’s a pretty simple story about a group of teenagers who can see giants and have to go on a road trip to stop the guy who’s bringing them back from the dead. Featuring: a literal ripped from tv tropes 5 man band set up and entirely okay if not weak narration. In the end it’s hard for me to go back to and read because I’ve gotten a lot better but I’m still proud of it. Also the five main teens have such a special place in my heart and I’ll probably never be fully done with them. Also I think my only nano with a sequel?? (that took me like six years to write lmao)

Extinction Could be a Lot Worse (2012) - 300 years after global cataclysm, and humans have become a minority, giving rise to insect- and fish-humanoid hybrids known as Entosaps and Aquacrans. Arata is a kid with a guitar looking for one of the last major human settlements on earth. Featuring: half baked concepts, heavy handed and misguided messages about racism, and one actually decent speech at the end. Ehhhhhhhhhhhhh I’ve never felt great about this one. It didn’t take me long after writing it to realize my messaging was super mixed and not as woke as I thought. Also like a few super problematic parts that make me cringe hard. Not the worst thing ever but not one I go back to.

How to be an Urban Legend (2013) - oh thank god the streak of straight protagonists has been broken. A really fun deuteragonist set up! Aliya is a party girl in need of a job. Morse is a down on her luck, awkward girl with a penchant for local urban legends. Each encounter Mackenzie Fylan, an urban legend known as a parsinct, a person who goes through overwhelming tragedy and emerges with supernatural abilities, and chaotic teleporter. Through a series of events the two girls uncover some peculiar goings ons in the basement of their office building. Featuring: a plot where like not a ton happens and a fun chapter naming convention. In the grand scheme of things an entirely okay story. Not a story with a ton of stakes but it marked a turning point in my writing as far as description writing and narration go. Aliya and Morse are an unstable couple, but I think I take a little too much joy in their dysfunction.

Scribed. (2014) - Most famous for not being finished, rip. In a world where writers are assigned particular individuals to “scribe” their lives, Ariel Hess accidentally discovers he’s being written about by the inexperienced scribe, Maiara Snow. It would’ve been a fun kind of breakdown and commentary on the stories we consume and the protagonists we choose to write about but it never quite made it off the ground (partially due to life being a lot that year). Featuring: really not much but some fun with style/formatting.

The Incredibly Consequential Life of Charlie Zappala (2016) - After having to skip 2015, this was a fun one to write. Also, chaotic cuz I dallied the first half of the month then ended up writing like 22k in 6 days. Charlie is a disillusioned 20-something who always thought they were made for something greater until real life came and beat them with a stick. That is, until an interdimensional elf herald pops out of their refrigerator and claims they’re the Chosen One. From there Charlie has to balance the world of their dreams with the world they know and figure out which is really meant for them. Featuring: first nonbinary protagonist and a whole lot of swearing. Charlie as a character is such an outlet for a lot of processing of what it means to be an adult in this day and age. I love them a lot. Of course, in the manic way the story was written the pacing is wonk and needs some work before it’s the best it can be. Also the only nanowrimo (save the unfinished ones) that never got a proper edit.

a.u. (2017) - HEY DID I MENTION THIS ONE WON AN AWARD. I’m sure I have. To go from no one reading my stories to now thousands of folks having checked this one out is A Lot but also probably one of the coolest things to ever happen to me. Damian is a fresh out of college fuck boy, Alexander is a hipster barista. They meet in a coffee shop, we all know what happens then, right? If by that you meant that a mysterious earthquake comes every morning to the coffee shop and leaves the two with the only memories of it happening, then yes, we all know what happens. A story meant to be an exploration of fan fiction tropes and AUs, but also with an underlying message of what it means to find yourself when the world around you is constantly changing (#kidswhomovedalotproblems). Very admittedly nervous that I was gonna come across as fetishizing mlm relationships just by nature exploring the typical “””””BL plot””””” so that’s probably what’s stopped me from out right asking people I know to read it haha. Featuring: boys kissing and some actually damn good analogies that I have yet to replicate. Did I mention it won an award? And currently has 30k reads?? Anyway read it online. No shame.

Road to Arcadia (2018) - Boy does this one have my whole heart. Set in a very nearby future (about 30 years) in a world where we did jack shit about climate change (so like current trajectory), Kai Gilling sets off to the desert to look for something better. On the way he encounters a pair of siblings and a woman who says she has a map to Arcadia, an urban legend rumored to be the only city thriving during these hellish times. Cue: desert road trip story. I’d been wanting to write a desert road trip story for ages and the route the characters follow is nearly identical to one my dad and I took on a road trip the preceding summer, so it all came together. Featuring: a main cast where none of the characters are cis/het and Jeep Wranglers. The letters Kai writes back home have some of my favorite writing and some raw emotion and thoughts from me. It’s not perfect in its execution and it doesn’t have the playfulness that a.u. has, but it’s really special to me. Also available online! (not as many reads tho working on that one)

EXCAVATOR: Tales from the Twelve Vessels (2019) - Probably my first real big step into hardcore sci-fi and another deuteragonist tale. In the future, out in the deep recesses of space, flies the jaundian coalition, a group of twelve spaceships housing orphaned races from across the universe, most notably the sapiens (ya humans) and the nkrey (kinda like a mix between grey aliens and high elves). The story follows Meera, a wide-eyed Idealist looking to work planetside and Sauk, a convicted criminal who would like to do not that. Shenanigans ensue. It’s definitely out of my comfort zone to write something in a world so unfamiliar and it was hard to do a nanowrimo story when half the time needed was for world building. Also still not fully finished to this day. I got the 50k but still have a lot left to write in terms of plot. Featuring: ALIENS and sassy teammates. One that I probably won’t know how to feel about until at least another year or so.

Thanks so much for reading!! And oh man I’m only scraping the surface of a lot of this. If you ever wanna know one thing I could talk forever about it’s my stories and characters.

[nekoabiwrites]

Ranking Up

I have a very long planning document with backstories for all of the major players in this fic... but who knows what the plot will actually be and if any of that will make it in lmao. 

Anyway, this is based in the Splatoon universe, because I think it’s fun to put the sides in games like this.

Also, what are titles? I am recovering from a migrane as I post this so brain is not really up for creative titles right now.

AU: Splatoon (specifically Splatoon 2) Pairings: None. Words: 2687 Warnings: Deceit, Remus (neither are said to be particularly good or bad), implied graffiting, mentions of battles involving gun-like weapons. Anything else, please let me know.

Summary: We introduce our cast and get to know their teams.

---

The young inkling ducked behind the wall that had already been inked by the other team, taking a moment to catch his breath. As he quickly covered the short wall with his own team’s ink colour, he had a chance to check the timer on the board just to the right of him. It showed the timer and a vague overhead map that updated constantly, along with each of the teams’ participants main weapons and status. The inkling was only interested in the timer, however. The match was almost over, there were only 30 seconds left. He grinned as he heard the unmistakable sound of an oncoming roller. The inkling prepared himself to dive out and attack, but the ground around him suddenly had several circles indicating the incoming ink missiles that were targeted on him.

“Shoot.” He muttered to himself before he dived into the ink and swam away from the attack, just moments before the missiles slammed into the ground and covered the spot in the other team’s ink. One of the last splashes of ink from the final missile managed to just catch the end of his squid-form’s tentacle, causing the inkling to wince slightly. It didn’t hurt exactly, just was uncomfortable to be covered in a different colour ink.

He was still able to get the drop on the oncoming roller, despite the clear indication that someone on the opposition had been nearby to them. In fact, their teammate’s attack distracted the roller and had them turning away from their intended path. This allowed the inkling to circle behind and get a good amount of damage on them before they could even retaliate. The opponent was splatted within seconds. The inkling, after taking a moment to celebrate getting yet another splat, used the last seconds of the match to cover as much of the ground that the roller had approached on as he could.

The buzzer sounded and all of the participants of the match stopped in their tracks. Across the map, the inkling could hear a splat bomb detonate and another set of missiles hit the ground, yet it didn’t faze him as he was sure that his team had won. The Ammo-Knights sponsored wristband pinged loudly and automatically opened its interface before the inkling’s face. All the previous information was currently greyed out and a new squid jump location had opened up. He placed his finger above the hologram map and immediately began the process of squid jumping to the spot. All the other participants of the battle were doing the same.

Their teams gathered and split to either side. The inkling was standing up front before his team, hands already resting on his hips victoriously. An overhead image of Kelp Dome appeared before them, with Judd and Mini Judd standing before either team. The drumroll began and the inkling puffed out his chest ready for his team’s victory.

“Why didn’t you let me get that last splat?!”

“Does it really matter who ‘got it’? Our team won.”

“Yes, it does matter, Logan.”

A long-suffering sigh preceded Logan’s next retort. He was going to regret this, “And why is it so important, Roman?” That set off the red-eyed inkling that stood before him. Logan simply rolled his eyes and sat back in the metal chair, waiting for Roman to be finished.

Their team were meant to be relaxing and enjoying their victory by sitting just outside Jelfonzo’s gear shop, having already purchased some snack food from the Crust Bucket truck. But, of course, Roman wanted to discuss the finer details of their match, and apparently that involved Logan’s “splat stealing” in the last few seconds of the match. He had done no such thing and had simply been trying to help them out in the last moments of the game, by freeing up one more teammate to go ahead and continue covering turf. And it was a simple friendly match, a practice one at that. It wasn’t as if a win or loss would affect their ranking at all; nothing they’d just gotten reflected on them at all or did anything for their current place in the league. Roman really did pull at Logan’s last nerve sometimes. He just wished he could-

There was a light touch on his arm that had his eyes fixing on another inkling who sat beside him at the table. He was kicking his legs back and forth, which was only possible because of his strangely short stature. The inkling that had rested a hand on Logan’s arm was giving him an impossibly soft, reassuring smile, which had him blushing a little before he turned away.

“Are you even listening to me?!”

Roman gathered both of the sitting inklings attention, his hands on his hips as he stared at them both with narrowed eyes. He seemed to be angry, but it was all a normal part of their dynamic.

The shorter of them giggled happily, “Sorry, Ro. I think we’re both a little tired after that match!”

The standing inkling immediately put a hand to his forehead and dramatically cried out, “My own team won’t even listen to my woes. It wounds me so! Especially from my longest standing friend, Patton, betraying me like that! How can I go on in this world?” His display caught the attention of some of the surrounding kids, some of whom seemed to be interested in what was going on.

Logan sipped at his drink, purposefully leaving a moment of silence before he spoke, “I do not believe that having a team is conducive to staying alive.”

That had Roman dropping his theatrics and simply pouting at his stoic teammate, “You know what I mean!”

Before the argument could progress, the fourth member of their team approached and stood next to Roman. The eccentric inkling went to wrap an arm around the other, but he was rebuffed quickly.

“Thomas… what’s going on? You look upset about something?” Patton questioned, cutting across Roman’s insulted rhetoric that he was spewing. Thankfully, the question got the red-eyed inkling to quieten down and pay attention.

“Uh yeah, guys… I just had to tell you something.” Thomas swallowed hard, eyes darting from one teammate to another. Each of them were staring back at him, all with their own level of concern. “Ah, well, uh… I’m going to have to quit. The team, I mean.”

“WHAT?!”

The team all jumped harshly at Roman’s loud screech, which regained the attention of the surrounding population of Inkopolis Square. Only this time, the entire plaza went silent and focused in on the small group.

Thomas awkwardly coughed and avoided eye contact, “Yeah, I’m sorry… I just got, uh… well, you know how my parents took me to that audition thing…”

“No. Way. Shut up.” Roman interrupted, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You got it?!” Thomas nodded lightly, clearly a little uncomfortable, but Roman’s next outburst had him jumping in shock once more, “THOMAS, THAT IS FANTASTIC!”

Across the table, Patton was clapping his hands together and squealing, whilst writhing with glee in the chair, “That’s wonderful news! You’ll be amazing, kiddo!”

Logan simply smiled softly and nodded his head in acknowledgement, “That is a great opportunity for you, Thomas. I am pleased for you.”

The inkling was surprised. His gaze flicked between each of his teammates, “You mean… you’re not mad at me? For having to leave?”

Patton and Logan both shook their heads, while Roman scoffed, “While I may not like that you are having to depart from our small band of brothers, this is a great opportunity for you to rise like the star you were born to be, Thomas. This is what you’ve been working towards all of your life. If you did not leave to pursue it, I would likely have to kick you from this team so you would!”

The four continued to chat loudly, trying to gain every scrap of information they could about Thomas’ next step in life as well as thinking about what that could lead to. Several kids around them were passively listening and dropped by the conversation to congratulate Thomas, despite not truly understanding what it was.

One kid in particular was sitting with their back against the wall of Jelfonzo’s shop, just around the corner from the table were the group were sat. He was listening intently in on their conversation. He’d watched their previous battle as well as several others in the past. Something about their casual nature, their confidence in talking about things so loudly in a public space, about their vibes just drew the young octoling towards the group. They seemed so happy and content, despite their usual bickering back and forth banter. There was something there within him that he couldn’t quite understand, an odd feeling that he felt when looking at them in particular.

As he was focusing on listening in on the other group, a shadow fell across him. The octoling immediately snapped his head up, tensing and fighting not to yelp in fear.

“There you are, Virgil. I had wondered where you’d run off to.” The smooth, silky voice sent unpleasant shivers down Virgil’s back. “What are you doing? Trying to hide?”

He stood and brushed himself off. Virgil crossed an arm over his body and held the other at the elbow nervously, “No, I just wanted to… come and chill out here. Is… is that okay?”

“Oh, it’s definitely okay. It’s not like we specifically said we were meeting up to practice or anything…”

Virgil swallowed hard and went to begin apologising, but an arm wrapped around his shoulder and a new voice stopped him before he started.

“Come on, D. We found him, we’re still early. It’s not a problem.”

The octoling before the pair put his hand over his chest and bowed slightly, a sarcastic smile tugging at his lips. “Many apologies to you both. You are so right. I have absolutely no right, as the leader of this team, to be wondering where my teammates are, especially when we all agreed to a time and place to meet. Obviously I must be th-”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Let’s go.”

The octoling who’d wrapped his arm around Virgil’s shoulders pulled him along, towards the entrance to Deca Tower. Even though the brand new 18K Aviators the octoling wore covered most of his facial expression, Virgil was able to make out the light air of annoyance that radiated from the kid.

They passed by the group who Virgil had been listening in on, watching as Roman gave them both a slight once over. He seemed a little irritated by their presence, which made Virgil duck his head and ignore them all.

“Thanks Remy…” Virgil muttered under his breath just as they passed through the doors into the lobby.

“Whatever. Just don’t push his buttons like that.” Remy tossed a look over his shoulder, watching as their team leader passed them by and began to talk to the receptionist. “You know that’s a bad idea. Just be a good boy and turn up on time. You know what will happen if you don’t, right?” Virgil nodded in response, which seemed to satisfy his friend, “Good. Lets just get this over with.”

The two octolings joined their other teammate at the desk, waiting for the receptionist to tell them where they needed to go. During this moment, the doors opened again which caused Virgil to look over. An unmistakable figure walked through from the outside, looking far too pleased with himself whilst being covered in – and smelling like – paint.

As the other kid approached, all of their gathered team seemed to sense him coming and have their own less than pleased reactions to the scent.

“At least it’s better than the last time…” Remy sighed, wrinkling his nose and sending a side glance towards the offender.

“What was wrong with the last time?” The kid asked, circling around to stand next to their team’s leader.

“Salmonid ink smells so bad.”

“I don’t think so!”

“Yeah, we know.”

As the newly arrived octoling went to rest his arms on the reception desk, the team leader stopped him dead by grasping his shoulder, “Remus. No paint on surfaces that are not outside, or did you already forget that?”

“Of course, I didn’t! I just don’t care!” Remus grinned. He rolled his shoulder, which knocked the hand from it. Instead of returning to lean on the desk, he threw both of his arms around the one that had stopped him before whilst flicking the other’s bottom lip with a paint-coated finger, “No pouting. You love me really, Declyn. Come on, admit it…”

Declyn rolled his eyes, thanking the receptionist who’d seem a little put off by Remus’ actions, before turning and walking towards one of the battle lobbies. Remus was still holding on tightly, but at least the octoling was moving, “Yes, Remus. I most definitely do love you.”

The sarcasm was seemingly lost on Remus, who nuzzled his paint-smeared face into Declyn’s shoulder like some kind of deranged kitten. Virgil and Remy followed at a short distance, both not saying anything about the scene before them.

In the lobby, Remus let go in order to go searching through the weapons cache that was available to them. The other members of the team did the same. Virgil cautiously approached the furthest machine and presented his ID card, which brought up his weapon stock. It was fairly limited, as he’d only recently started battling and had very little money to spare – but Remy had been kind enough to give him enough to buy whatever he wanted as his first weapon. He swiped through and found his Undercover Brella, selecting it immediately. He then logged out of the system and stood beside the screen, watching his teammates.

Remy was already done, sipping on a drink that he’s managed to slip past the receptionist. He was sat on the floor, just relaxing as if he had no cares at all. It made Virgil a little jealous. He wished he could have so little care, like Remy did. Declyn made eye contact with him and smiled a small, yet somehow sinister smile as he crossed the room to see how Remus was doing with picking his weapon.

“I just can’t decide!” Remus said loudly, in response to Declyn’s quiet murmur. He seemed to be stuck between picking the Bloblobber and the Goo Tuber; both weapons which made Virgil’s brow furrow in confusion. Remus seemed to enjoy weapons that did weird things and weapons that most other teams despised, and it just confused Virgil to no end. The octoling was like that generally, in fact, and Virgil was trying to stop figuring him out.

Eventually, Remus decided on his Goo Tuber. Within moments of him picking his weapon, the doors opened, and many small jellyfish came in holding their weapons. Declyn approached the one holding his Dualie Squelchers and took them without a word, before heading to the exit on the opposite side of the room. As he had waited for his brella to reach him, Virgil let out an amused snort as he watched five jellyfish carry Remy’s precious Heavy Splatling over to him. Remy picked it up with a soft thanks, but he turned before he could see the five jellyfish almost melt in exhaustion.

“Thank you.” Virgil muttered to the one who handed him his Undercover Brella. He smiled a little, which seemed to make the jellyfish wiggle in happiness before it turned and left. Virgil felt a small burst of warmth as he crossed the room to join his other teammates at the exit.

Minutes later, Remus had his Goo Tuber in hand and the four were ready to go. They teleported into the spawn point of the long-abandoned Bluefin Depot in their octopus form. Virgil’s eyes darted between his team, their silence – while normal – unnerving him. He didn’t have long to think about what to do, however, as they reformed back into their human forms along with the other team and the practice match began.

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----- Next >

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[tothedarkdarkseas]

For fanfic writer ask meme: E, J, K, M, P(for any fic or all your fics), R, T, X, and Y. (If that's too many questions, then you can split the answer into multiple posts. Also, no need to answer if you already answered these questions before.)

Thank you so much! I’ll put these below a cut just to account for the length, and I pray Tumblr works like it’s supposed to this evening! I appreciate you having an interest!

E: What character do you identify with most?  Is there a certain fic of yours that captures these qualities particularly well?

I really do not identify with Gorillaz characters and thank god for it, or most characters I tend to prefer! Haha, I know that might sound a bit strange, but I can think of very few characters I’d call “my favorite” that I also felt were a reflection of myself in a major way. Of course that isn’t implying that representation isn’t important, but just speaking for my own personal relationship to media– I live with myself all the time, I like people who live very different lives! Having said that, of the characters I write (all two, possibly three of ‘em) I’d say I identify with some of Stu’s worst qualities over anything else: being unambitious but craving reward, self-centered yet lacking in a concrete sense of self, dumb about mostly everything, overcompensating (to be fair, this is Murdoc as well) and so on. Despite picking fun at him I definitely have an affection for an unlikable guy like Stu, I do have sympathy for being sorta pathetic because I feel like I can access that.

J:  What’s your favorite fanfic trope?  Have you written it?

Hmm! That’s hard to say! At the risk of being an absolute knob, I don’t tend to be a fan of tropes, or at least what I think is meant here by “fanfic tropes” like uhh… the heat goes out and we have to share a bed, or that kind of thing? Is that what this means, the sort of repeated setups for fics? There’s of course a place for everything so I’ve got no real beef with more innocuous stuff, but I wouldn’t say I ever pick to read something because it’s got a “classic” trope. I’m definitely rife with tropes in the broader sense though, I’m rife with things I like and clearly just repeat, haha. I do not smoke pot, but I have a real affinity for characters who do, and this is evidenced by having like… half my stories feature that, haha. If a scene where two characters creep up to being intimate via sharing a joint/bowl/bong counts, that’s definitely a trope I’ve done and would probably do again.

K:  Do you have a guilty pleasures in fic (reading or writing)?

Does the above count? I’d certainly call myself self-indulgent, haha, I like what I like and I don’t stray very far from it. I think unsatisfying or incompatible intimacy is really interesting and I honestly never get tired of reading or writing that. (Er, as much as I “don’t get tired” of writing anything, which is not saying much as I’m very bad and undisciplined.)

M: What’s the weirdest AU scenario you’ve ever come up with?  Did it turn into a story?

The only AU I’ve written is Coffin Dancer, which is a story set in the early 1900s about Murdoc being a reanimated corpse and Stu being a gravedigger who buries/exhumes him. Sexy, I know, nothing hotter than… long paragraphs about digging. I think the occult element makes that one a bit weirder than anything else I’ve come up with. I’ve kind of entertained other AU ideas but they tend to be a lot more mundane, to be frank I just really like the characters as they are and I don’t want to change their dynamic too much. As a joke I once suggested something about a riverboat casino (Stu working there, Murdoc trying to pull a money laundering scam via currency exchange, potentially convincing Stu to go in on the scam with him) and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still think about it sometimes and question how to make it work, haha. I think it might be fun to do an AU again, but I think there’s just too much of a gap between what I’d want to do or be capable of doing, and what people actually want to read.

P:  Where did you find the most inspiration for your story ?

Oh gosh, this makes it sound so important and I feel like the biggest jag going to pretend I’ve made anything that great or with particularly impressive roots, haha. A couple came from prompts, so that’s a fairly straightforward answer.

I first began planning Coffin Dancer because I was playing Graveyard Keeper on Steam at the time, haha. If you load up this game, you’ll quickly see there is next to no plot and it is simply a crafting sim. I just sorta… liked the setting, I guess? It is the 1900s and it does follow a graveyard keeper! Following that, I decided it would be a story about Murdoc’s skin turning from tan to green as it does in canon, but giving it a bit of a morbid tint, as opposed to the vague canon handwaves of Murdoc being “immortal” with no clear explanation of what that means.

Ampersands was mostly inspired by me being a big Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan and thinking it’d be fun to show a dynamic similar to Angelus/Drusilla/Spike, but heavily reworked to fit our characters. The first scene I imagined was the shoelace-tying one which has some resemblance to a shot of Angelus knelt at Spike’s feet while still mocking him, and that ended up being the very last scene I wrote (and probably one of the weaker ones.)

On Oysters and Black Water was actually the story that required the least research from me, as I already had an interest in oyster filtration and oyster reef restoration. By no means am I an expert nor is this story a genuinely educated look at this process (I am Genuinely Educated on zero things) but I definitely knew when planning a PB story that I wanted oysters to be used for a filtration system on the island, just as a little nod to something I find neat!

R: Which writers (fanfic or otherwise) do you consider the biggest influence on you and your writing?

This really puts me at risk of sounding knobbish, so to start with: I’m not really a writer. Fanfiction writer is already not the most impressive title, but even that I feel is a little generous for me. I’ve written things, but I struggle far too much and have too little dedication to pretend it’s something I feel “cut from the same cloth” as these folks to do. The writers I admire have “influenced” me in the sense that I’ve wished I could write that way, and I’ve probably/definitely ripped them off.

Some will find this laughable, but I’m a fan of Joey Comeau’s writing style. I’ve enjoyed every book he’s published, in particular the short novels Malagash and Lockpick Pornography, and especially his… err, non-novel collection of cover letters Overqualified. (I think I’ve read Overqualified more than anything else on my bookshelf, but this is saying very very little as you can sit down and read it in about 30 minutes.) The darkly comedic way he presents these ideas, how he’ll expand on these very offbeat details and veer so far from the topic, then take sudden sharp turns into something uncomfortable is just enjoyable to me.

Also somewhat cliched now, but Peter S. Beagle’s The Last Unicorn is a beautiful book to me. Beagle’s writing style is ideal for the fantasy setting, the poetry in his prose does not tip over the “purple” line for me (but I’ve always been unclear where the line is, obviously) and I’d really… feel like I’d accomplished something if I could say anything half as powerful as this book.

Shirley Jackson, (famously) the author of The Lottery and (less famously) We Have Always Lived in the Castle springs to mind as well. The latter in particular has a gothic tone, an at times strange sentence structure and an unreliable POV, which probably influenced Coffin Dancer stylistically and everything else I’ve done in perspective/structure.

But as far as influences, nothing more directly influenced me than @elapsed-spiral‘s writing and characterization. Old drum I’ve beat before, but it’s simply the truth. I would not have tried to write fanfiction again (after… many, many years) if I hadn’t found Danni’s stories and felt that excitement of reading something truly special. Now, it’s important to note that Danni is British so they’ll come out in hives if I praise them too much, but sincerely nothing in recent years has made me feel a “passion” for reading or writing like Yearz did. The oneshots Fairy Vale and Beside the Sea also deserve special mention for just being goddamn phenomenally good character studies. “Influence on your writing” could be misleading, in the sense that Danni’s biggest strengths (namely Being Funny, Being Realistic and Knowing What You Are Talking About) are among my biggest weaknesses, and I don’t feel that stylistically we’re all that similar; on the flipside though, I think so much of my “improvement” is really owed to Danni, aaaand I don’t think you’d ever look at something I’ve written and miss the fact that it’s ripping off Yearz in one way or another.

T: Any fanfic tropes you can’t stand?

Ahaha, alright, this jogs my memory and I do remember stepping on eggshells to answer this before! I mentioned above that I’m just not a big fan of tropes in general, but that means nothing as I don’t… have good taste. I never have. Famously bad taste over here. I don’t have any interest in raining on anyone’s fun or policing fan content, but I think we’re all perfectly fine just co-existing without feeling obligated to anything. More than anything else, in Gorillaz specifically I’d say there are some portrayals of their relationship that I find a little dodgy and I tend to avoid, but I recognize full well that many people may feel the same way about me! I also just like the characters to be compelling and to be themselves, whatever your version of them is. Of course my characterization is bonkers and mostly made-up and I have no expectation that someone else’s should resemble mine, but even if we have different ideas, I don’t like to feel you can slot them out and anyone else in? Which is why standard tropes like “coffeeshop” or “fake dating” don’t tend to be my favorite. Oh, I’m also a fuddy-duddy and I don’t love the nicknames, haha.

X: How would you categorize your fanfic reading?  Are you a voracious reader?  Do you carefully pick and choose?  Something in between?

I’m not a very big reader these days! I’d like to offer you a good excuse here, but I’m just picky, truth be told.

Y: What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories?  Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories?  

In total honesty, it takes all of about a month to become completely unsatisfied with anything I’ve written. That’s not like, a plea for sympathy, it’s just being objective. I write comparatively little and comparatively slow, so whatever growth that may happen is still pretty limited and it’s a little disheartening, even if it’s also my own fault for having poor discipline. I would not call any of my stories “good,” at best “good for what they are.” There are definitely some I wished did better, I wished with a stupid amount of sincerity would hit some magical validating number that would Suddenly Mean It Was Good… but after a little distance, I can always understand why they wouldn’t.

Hoooowever, some are undeniably worse than others. Based on both hits and kudos, my most popular story is my first one (I Couldn’t Feel, So I Would Touch) and this is truly baffling as it’s garbage. I mean, with no exaggeration I just think this is bad writing through and through, it’s truly just the worst thing I’ve written over the age of 20. I hoped I’d get this question purely because of this, haha, I feel such shame every time I see this story at the top of my statistics page. If we consider that to be the “most popular,” no, I do not tend to be most satisfied with the most popular story. We could define that differently though; for example, I think the story that got the most notes here and I received spectacular fanart on (a thing I just… can’t believe can happen, how nice is that?) was Oysters, and at a time I did consider that my favorite, I was incredibly proud of it when I posted, and even if I’ve grown exhausted by my overwriting too much to read it again I do still rate it pretty favorably compared to the others. So it depends on what constitutes popular! But if we’re just talking hits and kudos, sadly my stats page puts some of the worst stuff at the top.