#but the chapters I post on AO3 go up the instant I'm done scheduling

[pepperwebsblog]

Some reflections of mine.....

Why write the entire fic and wait to post, rather than posting chapter by Chapter?

It’s  a very good question and until Love Letters, the way I worked was to post chapter by chapter as I wrote fics. Sometimes I wrote with one chapter in hand. But I always did a serial format.

I did always plan my entire fics out chapter by chapter so I knew what I was covering and where I wanted the fic to end, so I was following a loose structure. But yeah I would write a chapter and pretty immediately post it.

I did like this way of doing things, it allows for that instant gratification which is great cos you get that instant feedback on your work.

But for Love Letters, it was a complex narrative with actual letters appearing not in chronological order. So whilst I always plan out my fics, this one needed to hang together beginning to end so I was not confident posting chapter by chapter in case I missed some detail I needed to go back and fix in chapter 1.

This meant it was about 10 weeks of work with very little feedback. And I will say having @xuxudio on hand as a brilliant friend to cheer me on was invaluable here, it was a hard slog to complete the fic with only myself having read the whole thing in entirety. But it made for a much higher quality fic in my opinion, I think the story hangs together better. This fic has had WAY more edit read-throughs than my others and so grammatically and spelling-wise it is better at the very least.

Also reflecting on things, it just works so much better for me in my stage of life now. I have reached a stage in my career where I am a senior manager and work demands a lot from me which is tiring but because I really enjoy my job it's very fulfilling.  Also balancing work with the rest of life's demands, seeing family and friends, volunteer work, exercise, and all the general adult stuff as well. I only get free time to write at the weekends and a few evenings in the week and not too late as I need to be well rested for work. So having something that I can pick up and put back down without any worries of sticking to an upload schedule or of letting readers down is helpful for me. I can work on the fic until it's done and then post regularly at a time that suits me because I have the fic written and ready to go.

And yeah, I think ultimately I prefer this way of writing now. And hopefully the audience appreciate it too as they know it's a complete fic and they're going to get something they know is finished which I think is very satisfying.

So yeah, that's why I have shifted this year to writing fics in this way. It might change again in the future but for now it's the right thing for me.

And why post chapter by chapter if the whole fic is written?

Because this gives me breathing space to write the next fic!

And it allows for the story to build, hopefully it's fun for the readers too, to keep coming back each week for the next chapter. It gives the story momentum and allows for more interaction between me and the readers.

And, being completely honest really honest, posting chapter by chapter keeps my fic at the top of the various tag lists on Ao3, as it's default ordering is by most recent. This means more people see my work and have the opportunity to read it. I'm not solely about hits and kudos but those are nice recognitions of my work.

I dont owe anyone an explanation but felt like providing one, thanks for reading!

[piratewithvigor]

Journey Out Of Darkness: The History Of Kane

Chapter 5: Life's A Witch, Then You Fry

Abel meets some really really old people and one who isn't so old

Last Chapter ~ AO3

Taglist: @the--blackdahlia @coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe @wendigoruble @old-no7

Melissa Vick became an everyday visitor to Abel’s room, sometimes coming in the morning before starting her appointments of the day, sometimes at night on her way home, sometimes both, if he’d seemed particularly despondent in the morning. She wanted to establish a routine with him, maybe even a rapport. Let him see her as a friend.

He was a tough nut to crack.

There were books and toys she brought over and left for him that looked like they remained untouched. He did watch a fair amount of TV, but didn’t seem to be needing her company for it. She prodded him with questions about school, about his likes, his dislikes, what he might want to do once he got out of the hospital. It was as if she was talking to a wall instead of a child– he didn’t offer much more than shrugs or one-word answers, if he gave a response at all. The boy had a lot on his mind, though. He was conscious and aware, even if he wasn’t always indicating it. He was living in his mind, she could see, in his own private little heaven– or, more likely, hell.

When the doctors or nurses would come into his room to poke and prod him for a never-ending parade of tests and shots, he didn’t blink. Whether they stuck him with a needle, performed scar massages or forced him through the rehabilitation procedures, his complaints, if he had any, were only that he was tired. He went through it all with a stoic face, slept through treatments that made grown adults whimper in agony.

His condition helped with a lot of his– the HSAN. But still… he was just seven, the same age as her Katie. Even if she couldn’t have felt a thing, Katie would have been scared. Might have cried, might not, but would have certainly been curious. Would have asked about every test, shot and treatment, made friends with every kid on the floor and probably a good chunk of the staff. That was Katie’s gift, making friends. She had a knack for it that Melissa didn’t understand, but was never going to question. She was just a perpetually happy kid who made everyone around her feel better. Abel, somehow, seemed like he was about as close to the opposite as a kid could get. She didn’t blame him, of course, but the longer he went on without saying anything, the more she worried.

Since he wasn’t talking, she went over to Marfa Elementary and had a sitdown with his teacher. Mrs. Prescott told her all about the boy she had known. A bright boy who was almost painfully shy, capable of good grades, but more prone to average ones for reasons that continued to escape her. A loner. He didn’t play much with the other children. Not at all like his older brother.

Thomas Carrion, on the other hand, was smart and strong, a head taller than most in his grade and the top athlete in his class. Had the tendency of dominating teamwork scenarios and group activities, but Thomas had a real bright future, in her opinion. She had fond memories of having him in second grade a couple of years ago and had only heard good things from his current teacher in the lounge gossip. What happened to him…

“A shame,” Mrs. Prescott decided. A terrible, terrible shame.

Melissa tried to steer the conversation back to Abel, but required a handful of attempts. Mrs. Prescott seemed like she had far less to say about the younger brother, but went along reluctantly. Abel had none of the self-assurance that was Thomas’s hallmark at such an early age. He did, she noted, seem to come out of his shell more when he was around Thomas, almost like he was drawing strength from him. Together, Abel almost seemed like any other kid. Apart, he blended into the shadows with ease.

Of course, Melissa knew that. Mrs. Prescott was no help.

She did, at least, provide Melissa with the class list. Summer vacation had begun a few days previously, but many of the parents were still home when Melissa called, hunting for anyone who might have been friendly with Abel at school. She had the idea if she could get one or two of them to visit him in the hospital, the boy might open up to her a little. Apparently, though, Abel had no close friends in the class. Nor could they offer any names of anyone in other classes who might be. Nobody had anything bad to say about him, everyone was sorry for what had happened, but they just didn’t see how they could help.

Melissa hung up the phone and crossed the final name off the bottom of the list, sighing. What could she do? She had to get to know the boy. She had to understand him better before she could think about placing him with a family or putting him up for adoption. He was a good kid inside, she knew that much. Even though he didn’t say much, he was unfailingly polite. In his darkest of moods, he may let slip a slightly more rude word, but they were rare. He didn’t fight the doctors when he was instructed to do things, no matter how unpleasant some of the things sounded. She imagined him as a good son and a good sibling, the type of child who always did what he was told, obeyed his parents and teachers. Just like her Katie.

It was at that moment, in her office, that Melissa got an idea.

“So, honey, I was wondering,” she said over dinner that night, nudging a forkful of mashed potatoes around her plate. “Do you think you might want to help me at work a little tomorrow?”

Katie’s eyes lit up immediately. Ever since summer vacation had started, she’d been missing her Mama constantly. She’d been having fun out of school, but being alone with the babysitter all day was getting tedious. “Me? Help you? Could I really?”

“I think maybe you could. See, there’s this boy at the hospital– he’s about your age– and I just have the feeling that he needs someone to talk to real bad.”

“Isn’t that what you do, Mama?”

“I do. I try to do that, but sometimes… people– especially kids– they might not want to talk to a grownup.”

“But they might talk to a kid instead?”

“He might.”

“I can do that, Mama… you’ll tell me what to do, right?”

“You just have to talk to him, honey. It could be tricky, but I know you’ll come up with something in common.”

“I could bring in my dolls. We can play with them together and then we’ll have lots to talk about.”

“You can bring ‘em if you want, but don’t be surprised if he doesn’t want to play right away.” She hesitated a second, remembering the sight of Abel as she’d left him a few hours ago. The burns on his face, the tubes coming out of his body, the machines that surrounded them as if a fortress…

“There’s something else that’s real important. This boy… he was in a real bad accident– a fire. His whole family was killed and he was hurt pretty badly.”

Katie covered her mouth, her heart breaking for this boy already. “Oh, Mama…”

“Oh yes. So he might look a little scary to you, honey. Just remember that inside, he’s probably every bit as scared. Scared about what already happened and scared about what will happen.”

“I won’t be scared, Mama, I promise… but what is gonna happen to him?”

Melissa sighed. “I don’t know just yet, honey. That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I can’t find the right place for him if I don’t really know him. That’s why I need your help.”

“I’ll help you, Mama. Whatever you need.” Katie smiled.

Melissa Vick reached across the table and patted her daughter’s hand. “That’s my girl.”

–

Nurse Efram was his nurse this morning, which Abel was happy about not because he liked her but because she, unlike the older nurses like Nurse Hunt or Nurse Somozi, wasn’t always asking him a lot of questions like how are you feeling or do you think you’d like a book from the library or a special treat. Nurse Efram was change the IV and go, take his temperature and go, take the breakfast tray and go. All business, like Dad used to say, which was fine with Abel. The last thing he wanted this morning was to analyze why he hadn’t eaten and why he hadn’t slept. He knew why; he wasn’t hungry and he’d had a bad dream. He didn’t want to talk about either.

It was the same dream he’d been having for a couple nights now, the dream where he was running down the highway, hunting for Thomas, but only finding other people. Paul Bearer, James Dean the actor, and last night, his Ma’s father, Abel’s grandfather, who he only knew from the picture in the Kane family scrapbook.

The dream had begun ordinarily enough, with Grandfather taking him out for fishing and ice cream, like Dad used to sometimes, then a walk around old Fort Marfa, which still had signs up, but was pretty much deserted. Except in the dream, it wasn’t deserted at all. There was a crowd as big as Easter church in the middle of the camp, all standing around a big wooden stake that had been nailed into the ground. It must have been in there pretty deep, because the girl who was tied to it was thrashing around and screaming and crying and carrying on like there was no tomorrow. 

Getting closer, Abel could see that everyone in the crowd was dressed in old fashioned clothes. Pilgrim clothes. Just like the pictures in the book Mrs. Prescott had read the day before Thanksgiving.

“Now that ain’t funny,” his grandfather said, although neither of them were laughing. “There’s your great-great-great-great-great-great- (he said great more times than Abel could count) grandmother, son. We ought to say hello.”

Grandfather cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted. “Hey, Grandma! How are you?”

The girl tied to the stake quit screaming. She looked up at the both of them and stared Abel down. “How am I? How do you think I am? I’m cursed is how I am!”

There were dozens of people between them, but she kept her gaze steady, looking Abel right in the eye.

“We’re all cursed! All of us Kanes are cursed, but especially you, boy! Especially you!”

Abel managed to wake up to the sound of one of the machines beeping rapidly. The one that watched his heart rate.

Once he was awake and calming down, the dream didn’t seem quite as scary, the way dreams are when you think about them long and hard afterwards. Where you wonder why you were ever scared at all. It was nowhere near as scary as the dreams where he’d run into Paul Bearer and get his arm grabbed. Paul Bearer was alive, whereas the woman in the dream he’d just had had been dead for hundreds of years. Her name, he knew, was Rebecca Kane. She was a witch.

Supposedly, the Kane curse started with her. Ma was pretty certain, but Thomas said she was only so sure because she couldn’t find information about Rebecca Kane’s parents. Ma had told him plenty of stories of the family members and the curse the summer that he’d broken his arm falling out of a tree and wasn’t allowed to go outside or do much of anything. He’d brushed them off as ghost stories designed to keep his imagination active while he was inside over the summer. He didn’t believe them then, but now…

What Abel was wondering now, as he stared at the eggs on his tray, was if he was somehow a witch too and just didn’t know it. It’d explain why the fire didn’t kill him, why nothing ever made him hurt. The doctors called it all a miracle. If he was a witch, then it wasn’t a miracle at all because miracles came from God and witches got their power from…

Someone knocked on the door.

“I’m all done,” Abel called, placing his fork on top of the uneaten eggs. The door opened and he looked up, expecting Nurse Efram, but seeing two people instead.

The blonde woman who kept coming to see him had brought a little blonde girl.

–

Melissa’s heart leapt into her throat.

Abel looked exhausted. The bags under his eyes were darker and bigger, enough so that she could see it poking out from underneath the bandage on his bad eye. He’d barely eaten anything either.

“Abel, are you alright?”

“Fine.” “You’ve barely eaten.” “I’m fine.”

Any other day, she would push things. Encourage him to eat a little more, at least. But not today. Not when Katie was here. She didn’t want to have her fight through one of his worse moods. So she let it drop and placed her hands on Katie’s shoulders, moving her closer to the bed.

“Abel, this is my daughter. I thought you might want a fresh face to talk to today.”

His expression didn’t shift, not even when Katie took a step forward and held out her hand.

“Hi, I’m Katie.”

She smiled, the same smile that Melissa had that lit up the room just like Ma’s used to.

Abel’s expression didn’t change.

“I can’t get up to shake your hand, cause they got this in right now,” he nodded towards the IV. It was more words at once than Melissa had ever heard him say. Katie didn’t seem to mind. 

Abel didn’t seem to know what to make of her. He hadn’t had much great experience with other kids thus far. But he hadn’t been rude to Katie yet, so that was a start. He just needed a little push.

Melissa made a show of looking into her briefcase and frowning. “Where is my head this morning– I forgot some papers in the car. Would you excuse me a minute, you two? You don’t mind if Katie stays in here with you, do you, Abel?”

He just shrugged.

“Good, I’ll be right back.”

She stepped out of the room and shut the door, leaning back against it to listen in.

It took a moment, but she eventually heard talking. No specific words; the hospital doors were too thick for that, but definitely talking. Katie had broken the ice, at least, so she felt okay leaving them alone for a while. Get a cup of coffee at the nurse’s station, maybe find Beverly and go over a few things with her about Abel’s status– his release date, any long-term problems he may be facing– now that she thought about it, one of the doctors had flagged some bruising and smoke damage on his vocal cords that might present a problem down the road. She wanted the story on that in as much detail as possible. She’d take care of all that, then see how the kids were doing.

There was a policeman standing at the nurse’s station, talking to the nurse behind the desk who Melissa recognized, but didn’t know by name. She glanced up and pointed at Melissa.

“That’s her now,” she said.

The policeman nodded grimly and started walking towards her.

[trekscribbles]

Triple Threat: A Stones Triplet Fic

Fandoms: Leverage/Leverage Redemption, Librarians, and Almost Paradise Cross-Posted: Ao3 and FF Summary: So I shared some ideas about this fic here, not intending to actually write it. And then people asked for it and I have zero self control, so here you go!

A simple smuggling case. That was all this was supposed to be—just a smuggler looking to set up shop on the island, some place where he'd be able to store and ferry goods to the United States without attracting too much attention. Kai expected to wrap up the case in a couple of days, without Alex's help.

Of course it never works out that way.

She's used to Alex interfering with her cases, but she didn't even tell him about this one. So how did he end up with the smuggler she was supposed to be meeting, and why doesn't the seem to know her?

Or: Eliot and Jake are both in the Philippines for separate jobs that turn out to be related. Kai takes the existence of Alex's brothers as a personal attack on her mental health. Ernesto happily goes along for the ride.

Chapter One: Déjà Vu

A simple smuggling case. That was all this was supposed to be—just a smuggler looking to set up shop on the island, some place where he'd be able to store and ferry goods to the United States without attracting too much attention. Ocampo hadn't even asked Alex for help, even though they suspected drugs were involved. "We need more information," Ocampo told Kai. "Just meet with him and see what you can find out." No need to involve the most annoying man on the island.

Kai didn't tell Alex about any of it. It was only the third time Ocampo trusted her to go undercover, and though she wasn't above using Alex's help when it was necessary, this was something she could handle on her own. Ernesto would be monitoring the meeting from nearby, ready to come to her aid, but she was confident in her skills. It was a simple case. She could handle it.

She made contact with the smuggler, telling him she could get a cargo plane for his use and ensure the attention of the authorities was elsewhere when he was ready to load it. The meeting had gone well, well enough that he asked her to join him in his hotel room the following day to hash out the details. Ocampo had been thrilled, and she'd gotten the proud grin from Ernesto that always made her feel like she could take on the world. "Wrap this up, Detective," Ocampo said, already planning the press release for the end of the case. One more meeting, and it would all be over. A swift ending to a simple case.

The next morning she found the hotel fifteen minutes before their appointed time and knocked on door 211, letting herself in when a voice yelled, "We're on the balcony." The we made her nervous, but she told herself it didn't matter. Once she found out what the cargo was, she'd have enough to arrest him.

But then she walked onto the balcony and found her contact raising a toast to Alex Walker, and it took all of her self-control not to break character and strangle him right there.

The smuggler stood up with a grin. "Ah, Ms. Navarro," he said, motioning for her to be seated next to Alex. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No," she choked out. "Thank you."

He shrugged and swept his hand toward Alex. "This is my American contact, Marc Rosen. Mr. Rosen, my associate Nicole Navarro."

Alex gave her a polite smile, and his eyes seemed to laugh at her.

"Mr. Flores," she said tersely. "I thought we'd agreed to keep this meeting between us."

Robert Flores shrugged and again gestured to the chair beside Alex. "I assure you, Mr. Rosen is essential to this operation. He has already arranged a buyer in the United States. All we need from you, Ms. Navarro, is to follow through on your promise with the planes."

Kai sat, forcing her tensed shoulders to relax. "The flight is already secured," she said. "But I need to know what it is I'll be transporting."

Flores smiled. "All in good time."

"Time is the problem," Kai said. "We only have three days before the plane is scheduled to depart, with or without your cargo. I can't prepare properly until I know what we'll be loading."

"I will take care of that. Three days is plenty of time."

"Then... once you've made your payment, I will tell you where to bring your cargo." She managed this with only a single glance (not a glare) at Alex, who had returned his attention to Flores. A sand-colored fedora was pulled low over Alex's eyes, shading a face that seemed paler than usual. In an instant her irritation turned to worry. Did he know Flores from his time as a DEA agent? Had he arranged the meeting, or had Flores contacted him?

Why couldn't he just tell her before he did stupid things like this?

"I am glad to hear it," Flores said. He was still standing, and Kai bristled at the imbalance—he towered over them in a position of power while they literally sat in his shadow. "Mr. Rosen was just telling me that his buyer is anxious to get his hands on this shipment."

Alex huffed a nervous laugh. "Well, you know how it is when the guy in the big office wants something. Patience ain't exactly a virtue for my boss."

"Luckily for you, I have what he needs," Flores said, lifting his glass with a chuckle.

"Is that Alex?" Ernesto asked through her earbud. "What's he doing there?"

Kai chanced another glance at him, wishing she could reach over and wring the answer from his throat. His body language was all wrong. His shoulders were drawn in, the fingers of his left hand fidgeting against his palm. His voice had been different too—almost hesitant, self-depreciating. Usually Alex played a loud character, brash and confident, always pushing to keep his mark off-balance. This... this was just another pencil-pusher running an errand for his boss. Insignificant. Overlookable.

And it was working. A hard, greedy glint flashed in Flores's eye as he swallowed the rest of his drink, his gaze lingering on the trembling glass in Alex's hand. "Well," he grinned. "There is much to be done. Wait here. Your payment is in my adjoining room." He set his glass down on the balcony railing and strode into the hotel room. Kai watched him go, but as soon as the door closed she rounded on Alex.

"I'm going to give you ten seconds to explain yourself."

He blinked at her. "What?"

"Why are you here? Did Ocampo tell you about the case? Did Flores contact you?"

"Did—what? Why would—?"

"Or do you just like messing with my life? Because I swear, Alex, when this is over I'm—"

The hallway door opened before she could finish, and two men in black jackets entered the room. Neither of them was Flores. "Your payment," one said, holding out an envelope.

"Oh... thank you." She stood and entered the room, aware of Alex trailing behind her. He stepped to her left, covering her weak side as she reached out for the payment.

But the second her fingers brushed the envelope, Alex flashed past her to strike the back of the man's outstretched elbow. He screamed, staggering, and Alex pulled him away from Kai and hurled him toward the wall. The other man lunged into the room, but Alex met him with a neat punch to the jaw. He dodged a swing and caught the man's wrist, bashing his elbow into the side of his face. The first man had regained his balance by then, steadying himself against the wall before squaring himself to the fight.

That was when Kai reached him. His attention was on Alex, so it was easy for her to get close and grab his forearm. She drove her knee into the man's stomach, using the momentum of his fall to throw him to the ground. She turned as Alex ducked another jab and slammed his fist into his opponent's cheek. The man dropped, sprawling at Alex's feet and lying motionless.

"What the hell was that?" Kai demanded, stomping down on her man's back to keep him on the floor.

"Kai?" Ernesto said in her ear. "Everything okay?"

Alex knelt to pick up the envelope. "They were gonna kill us."

"He was handing over the payment!"

He tilted his hand so she could see inside the empty envelope. "Flores knew you were coming," he said, running his hands over his fallen opponent's waist and producing a long serrated knife. "He should have had the payment ready."

Damn it—she hated when he was right.

"He must have guessed you're a cop," Alex went on, taking off his hat and dragging a hand through his hair. "Probably one of your first undercover assignments? You know what you're doing, I'll give you that, but you pushed too hard for the cargo. You have to let the mark think he's in control."

"What are you...?" Kai started, but she trailed off when Alex put his hand down. Freed from the hat, his hair fell over his forehead and down around his ears, long enough to brush his shoulders. "Are you wearing a wig?"

"Am—am I—?" he sputtered. "Look, I don't know who you think I am, but—" He broke off, eyes widening. "Wait, you called me Alex before. Alex Stone?"

All at once, her vision seemed to shift. The man before her had Alex's face, but now that she looked closer, she could see a handful of inconsistencies. A scar over his eyebrow that hadn't been there before, a leanness about his jaw, a shadow she'd never seen in his eyes. Ernesto kept talking through the earbud, but she was only half-listening.

She stared into the face of her friend, and a stranger looked back.

The door burst open, breaking the tension that had paralyzed the room and tearing Not Alex's attention from her. Ernesto came in with his gun drawn, not quite pointing at the imposter, but not aimed at the men who'd attacked them either.

"Your partner?" asked Not Alex. His voice was calm, but so gruff she could barely understand it. She motioned for Ernesto to put his gun away. He swept a shrewd look over her, checking for injuries, and then knelt beside her man on the floor and pulled a pair of handcuffs off his belt.

The imposter cleared his throat. "Do you know Alex Stone?"

For a moment Kai considered lying, but the sharpness in Not Alex's eyes had softened. The look he gave her wasn't quite pleading, but it was clearly a request. She heard the please in his eyes as clearly as if he'd said it out loud.

So, in a voice that sounded more confident than she felt, she answered, "Alex Walker."

A snort of laughter blew through the imposter's nose. "Walker? He could have picked anything, and he went with Walker? At least I used a family name."

"No," Ernesto said to himself, shooting Kai with a look that somehow contained astonishment, delight, and trepidation all at once.

Kai echoed the denial in her head. This couldn't be happening.

"My name is Eliot," the other man said.

Don't say it. Don't—

"I'm Alex's brother."

No. No no no no no.

There were two of them.