#excerpt from a fic I’ll probably never write

[sadisticyouko]

“Perhaps it is a good thing that you can never be.”

“And why is that?”

“So that happiness can never mar your present face. Can never wrinkle or disturb the delicate features of your lips.”

You turn away from the man and watch as a seagull crosses the skyline. “If my beauty is meant to fade, then let it fade. But let it fade in the arms of a man who loves me; in the arms of a man who will not wince when he sees the lines his love has created— who will rejoice in the age and in the all the times his love has touched me.”

“You say that now, but who could be such a man?”

Off at the water’s edge, you watch kurama as he stares at the crashing and cresting waves as they meet and run from the shore. His hair is as white as the sea spray that shoots from the top of the salty water, blowing behind him as gently as the shore melts into the sea.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s better not to,” yomi is quick to intercede, “cast your naive fantasies away and be done with them. All you have is the present, and you cannot promise your future away to uncertainties.”

Kurama looks back and fixes his gaze upon you and yomi. Neither of you wave or make a gesture at inviting him into your conversation. You merely look from a distance, and in the distant gaze of kurama’s golden stare, you catch a quick glimmer of light bouncing off the sea. The light shines and sparkles, and in a flash of a moment it looks as if kurama’s golden eyes haven taken on an emerald hue. The sun setting behind him burning and bright, the halo of it casting a red shine to his hair. His expression almost soft somehow.

And you wonder— as the powerful demon slowly begins making his way up the darkening beach to return to your castle, the effects of the setting sun lost on him as his body returns to motion— just what that uncertain future might bring.

[newoozi]

your new friend vernon is walking you home one night, telling you all about the date his mom is setting him up on in an attempt to “get out there more”. he admits it’s been a while since he’s taken somebody on a date, and he’s sort of nervous and half dreading it. he doesn’t even have any idea what he’s going to wear.

the two of you reach the front of your apartment building, and you face to look at him. placing your hands on his shoulders you teasingly say, “wear that navy blue polo shirt of yours. it almost makes you look nice.”

he huffs out a small laugh in response, but the truth is he’s sort of spiraling. you notice what he’s wearing beyond an aesthetic sense? do you pay attention to how the shirt fits him perfectly, how it hugs at his chest and shows off his arms? of course, vernon knows he’s attractive — people swoon over him on the daily, and many times he can get away with not paying for ramen at the convenience store if the girl at the counter is young. but, it never crossed his mind that you thought about him in that way. it was different with you, wasn’t it?

he thinks about that, and you, on the way back to his dorm.

you text him to ask about his date the next night, the curiosity getting the better of you.

how was ur date? did she appreciate the polo?

he admits he didn’t wear the polo, but doesn’t offer any explanation as to why. he adds that the date was going fine until they were saying goodbye and she went in for a kiss on the cheek and he held out his hand. he probably won’t see her again.

you laugh out loud at his message.

when it’s your birthday a week later, he wears the polo to the casual dinner you host at your place with your closest friends. he notices when your eyes linger on his lean figure, and the way you blush when you know you’ve been caught. you’re almost sure he’s worn it on purpose.

[rnnsdrms]

‪‪❤︎‬ daughter of the ceo of a prominent company! reader who had once been one of the key investors in the blue lock project. skip a couple of years later, reader’s parent’s faith in its success is validated since many blue lock graduates now dominated the world of soccer, securing spots on top teams like paris x gen, bastard münchen, fc barcha, manshine city, ubers, and the like. and it just so happens that reader’s parent’s company is one of the most prestigious sponsors, promoting multiple teams as their marketing strategy. with their meteoric rise captivating the global stage, your parent’s interest is piqued once more. and so, they devise a plan—an almost, no, undoubtedly the most diabolical scheme yet. they will decide which team to sponsor more based on whom you, their rich and beautiful—but for some mysteriously reason single to the bone—daughter, would choose as your future husband.

however … you are in the dark about their plans.

perhaps your perpetual singleness stemmed from your domineering parents (don’t old money people are?), or perhaps it was that very old money madness that led them to orchestrate their most audacious move yet. so, when they ordered you to embark on a secluded vacation with some of the world’s top soccer players—strictly and personally handpicked by them, of course—you found yourself in an overwhelming dilemma.

enter the boys—each one having heard of your parents’ proposal: if any one of them could win your heart and marry their daughter before the New Year, they would be granted a lifetime sponsorship. tempted by the irresistible promise of wealth and support, the boys are ready to do anything and everything to claim you as their prize.

[typicalopposite]

for the first time

BuckTommy | 3512 words | E | Read it on AO3

Summary:

What if Tommy's first time bottoming for Buck... is Tommy's first time bottoming at all.

Excerpt:

It was only supposed to be a good night kiss… 

But Tommy had forgotten how soft Evan’s lips were. How sweet his kisses tasted. How passionate he always was with them. One hand is holding Tommy’s face in place while the other is on his waist pulling him closer… closer… until their bodies meet. Tommy wraps his arms around Evan’s back to keep him there; he never wants to be away from him again. 

Things heats up— Evan slides his tongue along Tommy’s lips and he parts them, letting him in. He moves their bodies until he has Tommy pressed up against the island in his kitchen, his erection pressed up against Tommy’s. He feels Evan smile into the kiss before grinding into him. 

“We should probably move this to the bedroom,” Tommy breaks away and gasps. Evan doesn’t move at all and instead latches on to Tommy’s neck. He kisses and bites and sucks all along the skin, making his way around from one side to the other; Tommy just tilts his head back and lets him. 

“I missed you so much; missed this so much,” he says between kisses. Then his hands are moving to the hem of Tommy’s shirt— his fingertips brushing so lightly across Tommy’s skin he gets goosebumps— and quickly pulls it up and over his head. He steps back and stares. His eyes move over every inch of bare chest until Tommy feels heat in the tips of his ears. He gets compliments on his body, sure— he’s been called hot plenty of times. “Beautiful,” Evan says; he’s the only one who calls him that.  

He grabs for Evan’s shirt as a distraction. “Fairs fair…” he jokes, trying to calm the heavy beating of his heart, and the hitch of his breath. Evan smiles, crooked and bright— oh, how Tommy has missed him, and this, too— he brings one hand up over his head to grab at the back of his collar. The shirt is removed and discarded and they are skin to skin, cheats heaving into each other as their lips meet again. 

Evan’s hands travel down Tommy’s body, stopping at his hips for just a moment before continuing down and around to his ass, grabbing a handful each, kneading and gripping. Tommy whines into Evan’s mouth. “Okay, okay…” Evan coos back, soft and sweet, pressing a few more kisses to the corner of Tommy’s mouth. “Just… wait a second.” He moves enough to look into Tommy’s eyes, and there's something there; hesitation. Tommy’s heart drops. 

“Evan…” he says softly. 

Blue eyes stay locked on blue, and Evan smiles. “It’s nothing bad,” he replies, letting his hands wander over Tommy’s back. “It’s just— we never— and— and I always wanted to ask if we could… but then—” he’s starting to ramble and Tommy furrows his brow, bringing a hand up to Evan’s cheek and caressing it. 

“You know you can ask me anything, baby,” Tommy says, leaning in to seal the vow with a kiss. 

Evan huffs out a quick, nervous laugh… “O- okay… uhm— so you know how you— you were always the one that was—” he sighs, and scrunches up his face in frustration. “I— I’m not sure how to ask this actually… so I’ll just spit it out. Can I… top… this time.” 

<3<3<3<3<3

thank you to my lovelies who followed along with this as i wrote it! and to kay who told me the cure for writers block was to abandon my other fic responsibilities and write something new! <3 uuuummm enjoy <3

[phoenixtakaramono]

I swear to god you were on demon mode when you wrote the multiverse conclusion. My jaw is literally on the floor. I have to compose myself otherwise I’ll just keyboard smash my phone in hysteria.

The way you write makes it so easy to envision the scene in my head, like word for word you set it up so perfectly that I’m like oh okay so I’m really seeing all these Butchers take on one Homelander. That’s ace, that’s juice, that’s every single compliment I can think of.

I can’t wait for the sequel oh my god oh my GOD. All those HLs with one Butcher? HL on HL? The possibilities are endless. Thank you again for sharing this with us!!

This Ask is regarding this 🔞 butchlander multiverse oneshot threadfic on twitter (tumblr read version: parts 1, 2)

Thank you very much for reading! I had The Name of the Game (AO3) thoughts in my brain that are unrelated to the main story so, whilst that 135ch monstrosity is gonna take its time, I might as well offer some unofficial post-main story or during-main story spin-offs—but as threadfic oneshots so they won’t clutter AO3 and/or taint the reading experience when more chapters are added. The brainworms were strong this time, so I might as well tap into that creative surge of inspiration instead of letting it gather dust and maybe never see the light of day.

Re: the threadfic ending. I’d always planned to have the vice versa switcheroo in this threadfic (where it turns from 7 Butchers + 1 TNotG HL into 7 Homelanders + 1 TNotG Billy 😉) but I had initially been uncertain whether to include it in this threadfic itself or allocate it to a separate sequel threadfic. I saw how long this oneshot threadfic was becoming and, well, after having to essentially retype 60% of what I could recall from memory after the last unsaved 58 tweets were lost to the void, I guess you can say the universe helped make my decision, hahaha.

Fun fact: I’d mentioned this in Part II’s comments, but making it the 5 HLs from 5 of my threadfics + the 1 HL from the Truce universe transmigrated into the TNotG universe is us having mercy on Billy. Because, imagine, you’re the scummy Male Lead who has quick transmigrated (world hopped) into 6 parallel universes, and had a relationship with each parallel dimension’s version of Homelander. And upon returning to your own world, you schemed to to get together with your own world’s destined lover Homelander—and it happened, although probably not how Billy had envisioned it with HL taking initiative into his own hands drugging him and making him participate in a seven-way 0rgy to seduce him. But bam! Murphy’s Law struck, and now Billy has to contend with seven jealous Homelanders. They’re the prideful trophy wives who are reunited with the husband they’d thought they’d lost, but he’s alive, and in their eyes they equate it as him “cheating” on them with a new hot floozy (TNotG’s HL). *laughs*

It’s a lot more dramatic if I made it a reunion, so instead I decided to be merciful on our Male Lead service top and instead make 6 of those Homelanders from my other fics, so the narrative is easier to handle not that TNotG HL wouldn’t also be down for a fun time with TNotG 6 other HLs.

Essentially I am willing to serve y’all the Homelander f*cking doppelgänger Homelander scene that we never got to see, Amazon you cowards. But ramp it up a notch, and toss our somewhat nicer to HL TNotG Billy Prime into the sweaty pile of clingy, needy, h0rny affection-craving Homelanders (but ofc Billy has to pay TNotG Homelander the most loving attention and endearments to smooth his ruffled feathers because hoo boooooy, imagine the cocktail of jealousy, insecurity, entitlement, and competitiveness in that one room alone y’all this is a grownass man who’d canonically gotten jealous and had a one-sided beef with a baby).

Like^^^ tell me this man wouldn’t enjoy a seven-way selfcest g@ngb@ng 0rgy session with himself, and with a very willing diabolically handsome V-ed up British Supe patiently servicing them in that pile. TELL ME IT WOULDN’T BE ONE OF HOMELANDER’S WET DREAMS.

[aristocratic-otter]

Welp, I wasn't going to post today...but then I realized that the final chapter of Heart in the Well will go up before Sunday, and that'll render the excerpt I carefully picked out obsolete by then. So I scrambled to pick bits from my other stories just so I could post this one excerpt. Go me!

The good news about Heart being done? I've got a new WIP plotted out that I'm super excited about, but I wouldn't let myself write anything until one of my WIPs finished. So next week or the week after, you should see the first words from that fic, a very very angsty Watford era canon divergence.

In the mean time, thank you to : @monbons, @messofthejess, @rimeswithpurple, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @best--dress,

@nausikaaa, @youarenevertooold, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @j-nipper-95, and

@facewithoutheart for the tags over the last two weeks. I'm having so much fun reading and watching your stories and art. This is such an incredibly talented fandom, it's endlessly inspiring. Plus, I get to meet some of you soon when I see Rainbow in August!

Here's my teasers for this week:

Here’s one from each of my official WIPs

From Saving Simon Snow: 

I shake my head now, thinking about it. I’ll just have to keep close to Simon, or at least, as close as he’ll allow me. At least my vampire anatomy gives me an advantage there; I can listen to what’s happening with Simon from three rooms away (I won’t, unless it’s a matter of his safety. It’s a gross invasion of his privacy otherwise) (fortunately, I had to learn to tune out the chatter of my peers by my 2nd year at Watford, or I would have gone mad). 

From the Heart in the Well

He looks back at me and then frowns. “Well, come on then,” he says, impatiently. 

“Come on, what?” I say, exasperated. The water’s up to my breastbone now, and I’m starting to feel a little panicky, so my voice comes out higher pitched than I’d like. 

Now, he rolls his eyes. “I need your tie,” he says as if it were obvious. It was not obvious. “Take it off, please.” At that, I shiver a little. I never thought there’d be a day where Simon Snow would be telling me to take off my clothes.

From Snow Fox: Penny, learning you can’t go home again (especially if you’ve signed on with the Snow Fox)

I step onto the road and walk briskly towards the house I grew up in. I can tell when I’ve been noticed. Several heads swivel my direction, and the murmur of conversation in the camp ceases. I keep on as if I haven’t noticed however. As I draw closer, I nod distractedly at some of the boys nearer to my path. They don't nod back. They’re watching me with narrowed eyes and I shudder internally. What do they see when they look at me?

From TikTok Dancer: Quite a bit racier than what I usually post, but still Tumblr legal, I think

Years from now, if I, for some odd reason, try to explain how my first time having sex felt, I won’t be able to. There’s no describing it.  I’m planning to get a degree in words, for fuck’s sake, but right now, all language has left me, sailed back to England probably. I’m left with caveman grunts and desperate whines. Every particle of sensation in my body has gathered between my legs, and every atom of will I have left is devoted to an attempt to meld my body with his. I’ve almost succeeded–we’re nearly one creature now, moving in frantic, panting unison. 

From Stars, Flowers, and Children,

I know he’s been looking for me. I know he’s probably forgiven my great sin. He shouldn’t. Forgiveness requires that the person who receives it is contrite, is sorry for what they’ve done. 

I’m not sorry. I’d do it again today, if the circumstances were the same. 

Even being estranged from the only person in this world that I care about is still better than the permanent separation that would result if we were rescued. 

I believe that we’ll be friends again someday. Some day when the pain in my chest and stomach have dulled. And that day is worth waiting for.

From Cupid’s Shield:

I’m left gaping at where he just stood. It’s suddenly clear to me how much of his vampire abilities Baz has been hiding, because I was looking right at him. 

I never saw him move. 

All I know is suddenly he’s above me, and my arms are above my head and prisoned to the bed by his hands clamped around my wrists. I’m so stunned that I don’t even struggle. 

His knees are on either side of my hips, and he’s staring down at me like I’m his next meal. 

From my COBB project:

I know I should be worrying over tomorrow, and what my team will face out there. And I will be worrying over that—tomorrow. Tonight, I’m far more worried about the hours ahead. Hours of, once again, sharing a room with the only man I’ve ever loved. A man who’s never looked at me as anything other than a posh prick. 

That’s my fault, of course. It could have been different, all those years ago, when we first met at Watford Uni. I was excited, back then, to meet my roommate. Excited, and nervous. I freely admit I’ve had a privileged upbringing, and this would be the first time I’d ever shared a room. 

My childhood was mostly lonely, so I didn’t mind the idea. I’d thought it’d be nice to always have someone nearby to talk to. 

Of course, everyone knows how that turned out.

As others have said recently, please let me know if you no longer want to be tagged and I'll take you off of my tag list. Unless I hear otherwise, I assume you're like me, and like to hear from people even if you're not feeling like sharing yourself.

Tags and cheers to: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @bazzybelle, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed,

@frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @letraspal, @martsonmars, @melodysmash,

@moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @raenestee,

@tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @krisrix,

@shemakesmeforget, @confused-bi-queer, @nightimedreamersghost,  @thewholelemon, @angelsfalling16,

@noblecorgi, @hushed-chorus, @whatevertheweather, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @mooncello,

@wellbelesbian, @ic3-que3n, @shrekgogurt, @cosmicalart,  @cutestkilla,

@theearlgreymage, @alexalexinii, @prettygoododds, @blackberrysummerblog, @bookish-bogwitch,

@Iamamythologicalcreature, @emeryhall, @larkral, @ileadacharmedlife, @thewholelemon 

[myokk]

20 q's for fic writers

tagged by @crushribbons love you Laney😙😙😙😙💓💓💓

How many works do you have on AO3? I am a humble baby writer so I only have three...so far

What's your total AO3 word count? 99,211...before I joined tumblr and fanart hell (affectionate) I was writing SO MUCH...I started in January bahahahahhahahahahahahah

What fandoms do you write for? Hogwarts Legacy, but in the future I'll probably do Tomione…beginning of death eaters super evil but sexy 1940s Tom Riddle making Hermione turn evil… (among others). Tbh (fanart-wise NOT writing) I also want to draw harvest moon…stardew valley…x files… I would love to attempt writing for P&P bc I have so many ideas, but I am too lazy to make sure they're historically accurate and it would drive me crazy if they arent so I'll just enjoy them hehe

Top five fics by kudos? I only have three published so far, but the most popular is my Ominis oneshot, legilimency. I have no idea how that one actually got readers...but I'm happy bc I really like it too and I reread it sometimes!! My main fic is actually doing a lot better than I expected too, bc when I started posting I was just shouting into the void and I wasn’t part of the community or anything🥹 the little excerpts I post here too, that go along with my writing, also do a lot better than I expected and it makes me so happy to read your comments💓

Do you respond to comments? yes!!!!! Comments/hashtags always make me SO HAPPY and these interactions are the fun of sharing these things with you all. I get swamped by notifications sometimes so I might respond super late but I always try to bc I LOVE YOU ALL SOOOOOOOOO MUCH!!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? my main fic...I have a horrible ending planned but I might chicken out at the end and make it happy. in my fanarts I can make them happy so that might be enough for me...and I’ll go with the evil ending muahahahahahaa

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? the Imelda/Poppy fic. Honestly it's not popular but it holds SUCH A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART...it’s popular to me😤 I reread it a lot...my love letter to Imelda

Do you get hate on fics? I don't think so...If I do I'm out of the loop bahahahhahahahaha. Honestly I've had haters before on other platforms and it's not something that really bothers me bc if I don't personally know someone, I don't care what they think...and like Laney said...if they don't like something they should just make what they want to see instead lol

Do you write smut? yes😳

Craziest crossover? None I Am A Boring Girl

Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that I know of!!!!! But I also just started writing this year. I've had my art stolen sooooooo many times before though on IG and tiktok (not here yet that I know of…). If it's just copying my art I don't mind that much with these fanarts because that's how you learn and a copy will never look like the original but...

Have you ever had a fic translated? nope!!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No but I'm collaborating with @versailles-black for fanart shenanigans bc our MCs are cousins🥹💓 plus the whole Leo/Bea thing with @the-ozzie …I’m actually considering writing a oneshot about the two of them so I think it counts!!

All time favorite ship I have two...Elizabeth/Mr Darcy have had me in a vicelike grip for my whole life...but so have Scully and Mulder...

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I really really really want to write my Ominis longfic that's a continuation of my oneshot, but it's hard to find the time to write lately bc I've been so busy!!! like...even finding time to do these fanarts is a struggle these days. I still have hope I'll finish it though bc apart from ME wanting to read it there are a few others who are also looking forward to it!!!

What are your writing strengths? no idea🥲

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I personally like it!!! But only if it's used correctly...I've seen Spanish in fics before where the person CLEARLY doesn't speak it and it drives me crazy, esp if the character is supposed to be Spanish-speaking. Or...when people add random phrases in with the rest English, bc as a bilingual person I feel like it doesn't really work like that lol. I added some Spanish to the Imelda oneshot I wrote and I like to read it when it's done naturally, and if anyone asks me for translation in the comments I’m happy to oblige🥰

First fandom you wrote in? Hogwarts Legacy is my first fandom ever bahahahhahahahahah

Favorite fic you've written? tbh I love all three that I've written so far!!!!!! I can't choose🥹🥹

Laney said there's no 20th question…I love you all😙😙😙

zerooo pressure tags for @kay9leo @writing-intheundercroft @heyitszev @noxxytocin and anyone else who thinks it would be fun to answer🥹💓😙💓😙

[ironwoman359]

Hard Answers - Ch. 1

A Truth Revealed

Ch.2: A Chance Taken || Ch.3: A Legacy Kept

A companion piece to A Thief's Gamble

Summary: An excerpt from the private journal of Ariene Anneius, Dragonborn and Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild, on the discovery of Mercer Frey’s betrayal and translation of Gallus Desidenius’s journal, preserved for historical purposes. 

Author's Note: This story is a companion piece with A Thief's Gamble, taking place during chapters 13, 14, and 15 of that story, though it could technically be read as a standalone. It was important to the plot of ATG that these journal entries exist, but trying to insert them somewhere within that story itself was causing major issues with the flow and structure, so I decided to post them separately. On AO3, all fics with Ariene as the Dragonborn are under a series, which I'll probably eventually make a masterlist for here. I had a lot of fun writing from Ariene's perspective for a change, and can't wait to do so more in the future!

Check the Reblogs for an AO3 Link!

— — —

5th of Frostfall

I’ve never been the journaling type before, but after everything I’ve learned in the last two days, I find myself wanting to put pen to paper and document all that’s happened. Mercer thinks me dead, and I intend to use that to our advantage, but it’s still possible that we will be discovered. I am currently sitting in the basement room of the Frozen Hearth, writing in the book I usually use to keep track of marks, items of interest, and other odds and ends. As soon as Enthir returns with the supplies I’ve asked him to purchase on my behalf, I’ll be on the road to Markarth. I plan to leave this record behind with Enthir when I leave; if I am killed before we’re able to confront Mercer in front of the Guild, then my hope is that it will find its way into their hands.

If you are reading this, I ask that you not dismiss it as the mad ramblings of a traitor, but as a true account of what transpired between Mercer Frey, Karliah, and myself, Ariene Anneius, in Snow Veil Sanctum on the Third of Frostfall in the year 201 of the fourth era. 

…… 

Mercer Frey and I set out from Riften several days ago to try and apprehend the thief Karliah at Snow Veil Sanctum. Karliah was said to have murdered the previous Guildmaster, and Mercer was determined to find her and deal out justice. We arrived at the Sanctum, and found a small camp set up outside with a horse tied to a tree. Certain that this meant Karliah was still in the Sanctum, Mercer killed the horse so she wouldn’t be able to escape, then instructed me to take the lead as we journeyed into the tomb. 

Perhaps it is my hindsight clouding my memory, or perhaps it is because Mercer and I have never really gotten along, but even at the time I found this suspicious. At the very least, I thought it distasteful. When I suggested that, as he was a swordsman and I an archer, it may be more prudent for him to take the lead and for me to cover him from behind, he shouted obscenities at me until I agreed to do as he ordered. I had half a mind to just turn back and leave him to deal with Karliah on his own, but I knew if I did so, then I would no longer be welcome at the Guild. So, however reluctantly, I took point and led us into the catacombs. 

Now, as I write this while nursing two near fatal wounds that have barely healed, I see why Mercer was so eager for me to take point. 

Karliah shot me before I even saw her, and I realized that her arrows had been tipped with poison, because I immediately collapsed to the ground, unable to move or speak. Mercer had told me a story of something similar happening to him twenty years ago when Gallus was murdered, so I fully expected to die there, Mercer falling beside me with an arrow through his throat as the last sight I’d ever see.

But what I saw instead shook the foundations of what I thought I knew about the Guild and its history. 

Mercer and Karliah spoke, and in their conversation, Karliah expressed nothing but admiration for the man Gallus had been and grief at his passing, while Mercer was cold and dismissive. One thing that Mercer said in particular, I have been holding in my mind, as to me it is almost more damning than the fact that he stabbed me not two minutes after saying it. 

“Gallus had his wealth, and he had you. All he had to do was look the other way.” 

The implications of his words chilled me more than the poison in my veins, and had I been able to move I may have turned and drawn my blade on him. But as I lay immobile, I could only watch as he bent over to taunt me before driving his sword into my stomach. 

I fell into a darkness that I thought must have been death, though clearly I was wrong, as you’re now reading this account. After some time, I don’t know how long exactly, I found myself coming around, this time with Karliah standing over me. 

It turned out that the poison on her arrow kept me from bleeding out, and when she was certain Mercer had left the sanctum, she came back to pull me from the ruins.

If nothing else will convince you the reader of Mercer’s guilt and Karliah’s innocence, let it be this: 

Mercer tried to kill me, and Karliah saved my life.

Coming back to revive me was a risk, one that she was under no obligation to take, seeing as I was nothing but a stranger to her. But it’s one she took anyway, because she didn’t want to let me die. She’s definitely not telling me everything about what happened twenty years ago, but what she has told me, I believe is true, and I ask you to believe it as well. 

Mercer killed Gallus. Of that I have no doubt. Gallus had a journal with him when he was murdered, and Karliah retrieved it from his remains before we left the sanctum. We hope it will provide enough details to help us prove the truth, but it’s written in the language of the Falmer and none of us can read it. Hence, my journey to Markarth. The court wizard Calcelmo is said to be an authority on the Falmer, and we’re hoping he can help us translate Gallus’s final words. 

I’ve volunteered to be the one to go, since Mercer will no doubt be looking for Karliah again after failing to bring her down in the sanctum. I, however, am supposed to be dead, which makes me the perfect person to work against him undetected. Still, I’ll need to avoid discovery if at all possible, so I’ll be taking the longer route along the coast to Dawnstar, and from there traveling off the road as much as possible. 

I’ve instructed Enthir to get this journal into the hands of one of the Guild lieutenants should he not hear back from me in over three weeks, so if you are reading this now, then I wasn’t able to return to him with a translation guide. It’s quite possible that I’ve died, either by Mercer’s hand or some other mishap, so as my last wish, I ask that you find out what Mercer is up to and put a stop to it, not only to avenge myself, but to avenge Gallus and Karliah for everything they suffered at his hands. 

And if it is Brynjolf reading this, then I’m sorry we never got to have that drink. I hope you’ll toast to my memory when all is said and done.  

Ariene Anneius

[saficswrites]

Commissions are OPEN

Do you like Fire Emblem, gay women, supporting artists, or just really enjoy my work?

Because I’m on VGen now, and I need your help to get verified!

Until I’m verified the only method of transaction available to me is paypal, which severely limits what I can write, not the mention I don’t trust that company within a hundred meters of my livelihood.

This is however a necessary step towards me actually making a living doing this hobby that I adore, and I don’t mind writing sfw fics too.

Thus you are all invited to the Safics… something, it’s an event and I have no idea what to name it. 

The way this will work is that I’ll be opening a batch of safe for work commission slots on VGen for a really low price, and if commissioning artists isn’t your thing you can still help out by sharing or reposting this announcement to increase its reach!

These commissions are likely some of the cheapest I’ll ever offer, and for the price-to-word ratio they will probably be far and above the best deal I’ll give outside of other events like this: I am offering 750-1,000 words, fully edited, for $10 USD. The fics could also potentially be longer if they click with me and I get inspired! In that case, there would be no extra cost associated with the commission despite the total word count surpassing 1,000 words.

That’s 75-100 words for every dollar you spend, and that’s not even factoring in the time spent proofreading and editing!

Because of the nature of this being a larger batch of commissions it may take a bit of time to get all off them done, but I promise to keep my prospective clients updated on their fics progress (including letting them know when I’ve started it) so long as VGen offers me the tools to do so, which I’m sure it does.

The current plan is to release four separate batches of three commission slots, but that may fluctuate as the event goes on.

Additionally, how much say you have in the finished product is also completely up to you! 

-Do you want to mostly be surprised after giving me your prompt? I’ll do it without any input.

-Do you want to have a big say in the direction of every aspect of the fic? I can share excerpts or even the entire draft at multiple stages to make sure it’s going a direction you approve of, while also gathering feedback and advice from you to help make it as good as possible.

-Do you want a mix of those two options? Because I can do that too.

I have experience with both extremes of the writing process from my pretty extensive work offering free requests on Tumblr, for anons I didn’t really have much choice in the matter but when possible I would dm the requestor to ask how much involvement they wanted, and in some cases even share the entire fic as I was writing it!

Because it’s only ten bucks and I’m sure there are at least some fees attached, payment IS due up front, but if for whatever reason I find myself unable to complete the prompt adequately you’ll receive a full refund AND get to keep a pdf of the work in progress draft.

Making this experience as good as it possibly can be for the both of us is something I strive for, but that does go both ways. Overworking myself super hard and burning at this stage out would be catastrophic, and it is something I’m wary of, so because of that the amount of hours I work in a given day will be capped to help keep my work life balance reasonable.

To put all the information in one place: you will receive 750-1,000 words that amount to a fully edited realization of your prompt created to the best of my abilities, either as a pdf file or a google doc.

I cannot give any concrete information on how long each fic will take to be ready, both because of the fact these are batch commissions and because I’ve never done something quite like this before, but I do promise to be transparent with you and offer a full refund (so long as I’ve not yet started on your fic) if the wait becomes too much.

Batch comm rules:

Requests must be safe for work, no horny and no over the top violence. Trust me, there’s a reason I will stop accepting Paypal payments the moment I am verified.

I retain the right to reject any request for any reason, even something as asinine as not vibing with it. Forcing myself to create something that doesn’t click with me will result in a final product that neither of us will be happy with and you deserve better from a commission than that.

They gotta be gay. Well not exactly, but Safics is my name for a reason, I’m not super interested in writing mlw or mlm fics, I am completely on board with nblw though. This rule applies much less to platonic fics but I do generally prefer to write stories that are not about men. Also it should go without saying but trans women ARE women and I am completely comfortable writing them, in fact I actually enjoy it!

Because I am underselling myself here tips are appreciated if you really enjoy your fic, but they are in no way necessary much less expected. Positive reviews would be appreciated as well, perhaps even more-so since those are one of the requirements to get verified.

vgen.co/Safics

[getvalentined]

@skadren tumblr isn't letting me answer your ask no matter what I do so I'm just gonna put it here!

✄ DVD BONUS: pick a fic and I’ll describe or write a deleted scene!

So I actually have a probably-forever-unfinished interquel for Smoke and Mirrors that covers "the 'Vincent Valentine assassinating the board' thing" as it was referred to in the epilogue; the pacing on it is fifty shades of inconsistent, which just one of the reasons it will probably never be finished, but I think it applies in this context since it takes place between the final two installments of the fic!

This excerpt is quite long, so I'm gonna put it behind a cut!

[ for the fic ask game part 2 ]

———

Hojo went down fast.

It was honestly a surprise how quickly it happened, given the time and effort it had taken to arrange for the hit in the first place. He raised his head, blinked, something like recognition flickering across his deeply lined features—and then in a now-familiar quartet of gunshots, he was dead. Strange, that someone who was responsible for so much harm would go down so quickly. It almost seemed…merciful, if Cloud thought about it. Particularly considering what he’d done to the man from whom those gunshots originated.

Cloud holstered his own weapon—a newer model Quicksilver, descendant of the one responsible for today’s carnage—and straightened up from where he’d been lying in wait.

“Smooth,” he said plainly, making his way over and stopping just to one side of the body, putting his hands on his hips. “Almost think it was too fast, though.”

“Perhaps,” came the deep rumble of the aggressor, still standing less than a meter away, having morphed in from the dark in a swirl of scarlet to enact his revenge mere seconds before. “Unfortunately, the more time these things take, the more opportunity there is for mistakes.” He stepped over in one long stride to stand closer to Cloud, the professor’s corpse in a heap between them, and surveyed the body for a long moment. Slightly mismatched and brightly glowing eyes narrowed, tilting his head slightly to one side as he looked for something, Vincent eventually seemed to come away satisfied. He raised his head to look at Cloud, eyebrows arching slightly, expression more open and deep voice a note lighter when he spoke. “You should contact Lazard.”

Cloud made a low noise not unlike frustration. “Ugh, yeah. On it.”

He pulled the phone from the interior pocket of his jacket, flipping it open and typing the number in manually. The device was leagues behind his usual mobile with regard to functionality, but it didn’t need to be anything but a phone, and couldn’t be allowed to transmit any data that could facilitate identification or tracking of its owner.

Two rings before the other line picked up, and Cloud mentally counted down from three before speaking clearly to the empty air on the other side. “Hey, real quick, do you know what time the bar closes?”

Counting silently, Cloud measured exactly two seconds of silence. “If you’re good with a pick, it’s open all night,” came a smooth, familiar voice in response, deep in a way that didn’t even come close to Vincent’s lower register, upplate accent crisp enough to straddle the line of artificial as he flawlessly delivered the counter to Cloud’s own passphrase. With confirmation that both sides of the conversation were secure, Cloud let out a soft sigh of relief in spite of himself. Lazard chuckled in reply. “Relax. How did it go?”

“Smooth,” Cloud said, echoing his earlier assessment. “Quick.”

“Too bad,” Lazard lamented. “You’re professionals, so I shouldn’t have expected anything different, but it’s still a shame.”

Cloud gave a noncommittal hum, internally agreeing but externally leaving Lazard to his own opinions. The compliment to his presumed professionalism was nice, particularly given Cloud’s minimal experience in comparison to his partner. “He’s down, that’s what matters.”

“Of course.” The disappointment in his tone was palpable even from thousands of miles away. Cloud couldn’t blame him, knowing just how much Hojo had to answer for, but it wasn’t Lazard’s decision how much Hojo suffered any more than it was Cloud’s—if there was anyone on the planet who deserved to make that call, it was Vincent, and Vincent had chosen punctuality over pain. “You’ll be all right getting back?”

“Yep,” Cloud reassured, intentionally light on the details. Lazard was in charge of the operation, but it was far more secure for him to leave logistics and movements to Cloud and Vincent; just as Cloud wasn’t aware of exactly where Lazard was, Lazard didn’t know exactly how Cloud and Vincent had gotten into the Drum undetected. The success of this first decisive move in Lazard’s long game to demolish and rebuild Shinra from the inside proved the efficacy of their respective informational limitations and allowed them a level of succinctness that would have been impossible otherwise. “Vincent will debrief next time he sees you.”

“Tell him I’ll be at number eleven.”

“Eleven,” Cloud confirmed, raising his eyes at last in search of Vincent, checking to see if he’d overheard.

What he found was the older man kneeling over Hojo with his armored left hand hovering just over the bloom of crimson in the back of his lab coat; as Cloud watched, a glimmer of green flickered into being around the injury’s exit wound, little sparkles that turned lazy circles as a weak thread of light coiled up between them. The reflection danced up and down the metal of Vincent’s gauntlet as more delicate lines joined the first, coiling up over Vincent’s hand, between his long fingers, up the metal shell covering his forearm.

“Have a good night,” Lazard continued. “Both of you.” With a click, the line disconnected.

The lights playing their way up Vincent’s arm went still for a half-second, shivered in place, then flashed bright red and disappeared all at once.

Cloud flipped his phone shut, still staring at Vincent, who straightened back up as if he hadn’t done anything at all.

What was that?

———

Other issues with getting this written are that a lot of it is...boring? I mean I don't think it's boring, but I think pretty much everyone else would. I have the entire new board worked out, details on how everyone was recruited and brought on and how departments are split up and restructured—which is a big part of breaking Shinra's powerbase, and that's really the point of the story. However I am aware that most people in this fandom aren't really into that kind of stuff in a longform fic, so I figure it's best kept to myself. I'd be happy to answer more questions about if it anyone has them, even outside the context of an ask game, but I'm also pretty happy just chewing on it on my own.

If I did ever actually write it, it probably wouldn't be until after I've finished RTGT, so it'd be a long way out anyway.

[sonofthedunes]

happy Valentine’s Day! may i present a fic that isn’t romantic in any way? :p this is an idea that’s been rolling around in my head for a while: what exactly an average day for luke on ahch-to would look like, but filtered through a darkly humorous lens. probably the only fic i’ll ever write that could be considered fully canon-compliant. no warnings apart from a mention of “self-gratification” and an overall black comedy tone. enjoy!

a mock-up of reason and order

The following is an excerpt from a diary that was retrieved from the Temple Island of Ahch-To, written by Jedi Master Luke Skywalker during his exile from 28-34 ABY:

32 ABY, the day is irrelevant.

It occurs to me that, in all the time I’ve been on this unfindable rock, I’ve never actually laid out how i spend my days. And I’m stuck inside thanks to yet another storm, so…

6:00: Wake up. Curse the fact that I haven’t yet “bought the moisture farm,” to borrow the Tatooinian phrase.

6:25: Cold bath. They’re all cold.

7:20: Fish for daily food supply. I bet if anyone was around to see this they’d think it was wizard.

8:00: Visit the Thala-sirens for…you know what, this isn’t important, we can skip it.

8:30: You’ll never guess what’s for breakfast—fish!

9:30: Scrub porg shit off the hut, again.

10:20: Run through a mental roulette of my greatest failures (morning).

11:00: Greet any Caretakers who happen to pass by. I’ve figured out some basic phrases in the Lanai language and we are able to communicate reasonably well. (If I am in fact calling them rotting Wharlithan cunts, they’re polite enough not to say so.)

12:30: You’ll never guess what’s for lunch—fish.

1:00: Hurl stones into the cruel and unforgiving sea. Ponder the futility of life.

1:25: Hike up to the tall cliffs. Aggravate chronic lumbago.

2:30: Stare.

3:15: Page through the sacred texts. If you see that I’ve played hangman in the margins, no you haven’t.

5:30: You’ll never guess what’s for dinner…

6:00: Masturbate, not because I receive any pleasure from the act, but because I have to keep my dexterity somehow. Will use my cybernetic if I feel fancy.

6:40: Run through a mental roulette of my greatest failures (evening).

8:00: Used to be my allotted daily crying fit. I now use it to manscape my beard.

9:00: Play solitaire. Lose.

10:00: Bedtime. Fall asleep pondering the design of a shirt which reads “the Force won’t let me die.”

[triptychgrip]

What if a drunken/accidental livestream led the public to find out about the Sochi banquet, four years after the fact?

MOTHERing_Heights commented: 12-09-2019 at 07:15am Love your posts, as always.

Regarding theories as to how the ISU kept banquet details from leaking…we all know the organization is all but broke, so they probably didn’t bribe any of the skaters to not mention it through $$$. More than likely, Viktor “I Have Gorgeous Eyes But Cross Me And I’ll Shoot Laser Beams Out Of Them” Nikiforov probably made every banquet attendee swear not to leak anything, realizing Yuuri might not want that level of media attention.

We now know Viktor didn’t realize Yuuri was that drunk, so his desire for discretion back then was probably more along the lines of “well I’m so famous and this level of scrutiny is something Yuuri probably isn’t used to, best to keep this quiet” and less of the “Woe is me! My future husband was trashed the night he captured my soul, gotta keep this hush hush” variety.

1 response to MOTHERing_Heights Lets_Get_You_To_Bed_Grandma commented: 12-09-2019 at 07:25am ajldkfjlskdaldkflskdf “Woe is me! My future husband was trashed the night he captured my soul…” This honestly sent me to the moon....why is this totally something Viktor would have thought?!

I’m now imagining him pacing and hand-wringing in his/Yuuri’s hotel room at the Barcelona GPF the night he found out that Yuuri didn’t know (the same night of their engagement, apparently?!). Oh, to be a fly on that wall…

And speaking of hand-wringing, can we all spare a moment of silence for the freaking PINING Viktor must have undergone during that 4 month gap between Sochi and hauling ass to Japan?? I’m wondering if he consoled himself in the meantime by commissioning a fanfic writer to bring to life all of his lovelorn fantasies on the page? Or, perhaps he went the route of us mere mortals and stalked Yuuri’s (formerly nonexistent) social media outlets? LMAO

---

Ahh, in-universe social media freak-outs: I love writing them, and the above excerpt/text message image is from my latest one-shot: part 1 of an eventual 3-part series about the aftermath in the event that the public finds out about the Sochi GPF Banquet shenanigans, four years after the fact.

As in: well after the Yuuri of my fic-verse wins gold at the 2018 Winter Olympics, as well as after he and Viktor get married.

The ensuing chaos has the potential for humor, of course, but also major feels, which is what attracted me to wanting to write about it in the first place

In my fic-verse, our YOI faves are having a hell of a time in Turin, Italy, enjoying themselves at the 2019 GPF Banquet, which ends up being a celebration of Yuuri winning his second GPF title (just a few points ahead of Yurio).

Due to Mila and Sara's peer pressure, Yuuri and Yurio drink far too much of the locally reknown grappa, which leads them to 1) set off together in search of more substantial food than the slim hors d'oeuvres pickings, and 2) accidentally go live on Instagram while discussing what went down in Sochi (well, it's more like Yurio slurring in his explanation and Yuuri interjecting now and again with incoherent "wait a secccc, tha' wuzz me? I did that?!" exclamations)

Needless to say, when a few Yuri's Angels record the live and upload it online, the internet EXPLODES; up until this point, everyone had believed Yuuri and Viktor's relationship origins to be pretty straightforward: they've been together since October 2016 and since then, they've never hinted at anything even slightly chaotic happening in Sochi.

Part 1 focuses on everyone's initial reactions the morning after Yuuri and Yurio's livestream; part 2 will be hurt/comfort-focused, as both Viktor and Yuuri grow insecure (though, for very different reasons); and the final part will feature Yuuri and Viktor hosting their own (sober) livestream to "take command of the narrative", as Yuuri's extremely stressed publicist suggests

I hope this overview piques your interest in my story, or encourages you to check out my other Yuri!!! on Ice works

[achillescomehome]

blood drips from the hand of a warrior, crimson coloring in the line creases of his fingers as he curls them. he is exhausted, but he cannot give up now. why not? some part of him wonders. get out. find a new life. have a future.

oh, how he wishes he could. to let go, to be free, is his greatest dream. but he knows he will never walk away from those who need him.

he has tried.

it doesn’t work.

so he rises from the blood-soaked ground, and he caps his sword. down the weapon shrinks, until it is a simple pen once more. tucking it in his pocket, he begins the long trek home.

— excerpt from a pjo fic i’ll probably never write

[sephirthoughts]

2 and 5 for the ask meme please

yayyy inbox games!!! dee is getting so tagged in one of these

2. an excerpt of my writing that makes me laugh

i happen to think i am very funny, but only a few things i've written have made me actually laugh aloud. among them are pretty much every interaction between tom and fred in the fic i wrote in my friend's universe. actually the whole fic is pretty good even if you don't know the original universe. 😂 the scene i excerpted is basically a normal office situation but these two idiots are trying to keep their co-worker from leaving work early

Today, the two materialized in front of his desk, yet again. This time to ask for his draft picks for the office fantasy foosball league. They even came armed with an elaborate, full-color bracket, drawn on a huge piece of white paper, pinned to a corkboard. All the available players were represented by sticky-notes with their names on them. “I’ve never heard of the office having a fantasy foosball league,” he said doubtfully. “Actually, I never heard of there being a pro-foosball team.” “Well, it’s definitely real and not something we made up,” Fred assured him. “Look at the big board!” Felix was looking at it. He couldn’t not look at it. It was currently blocking his path to the exit. But…they’d clearly worked very hard on it, so he may as well humor them. He’d just pick some players at random and then get out of here. “Ok, I guess I’ll take Peter Venkman and…Egon Spengler?” Felix gave them a look. “Are you guys serious?” “It’s a coincidence,” Fred said deadpan. “Yeah, lot of people named Peter and Egon in the world, don’t think about it.” Tom urged. “We gotta give everyone in the office a chance to play, so make it snappy.” “This one says Marty McFly.” “Ooh, fantasy…foosball?” Marjorie said, pausing as she passed by. “Is that a real thing?” “Beat it, Marjorie! This doesn’t concern you!” Tom said, trying to block the board, by standing in front of it with his arms spread. Marjorie planted her hands on her hips and stood her ground. “I just heard you say you were giving everyone in the office a chance to play! Are you excluding me because I’m a woman?” “No, it’s because you’re an accounting nerd, nerd!” Fred fired back. “No nerds allowed!” “What about Felix?” she retorted. “He’s a programmer. He’s like, a thousand times nerdier than me! Look at him, he’s probably still a virgin!” “Aw…come on,” Felix said, to which no one paid any attention.

5. an excerpt of my writing with a description i'm proud of

oh man this is harder. i don't think my descriptions are my strong suit. i'm proud of this one, though! i think it's pretty good! it's from a fic i wrote for Death Stranding and i just now realized is four years old

Towers of ice rose like jagged teeth from the black ocean, where they creaked and cracked with each swell and lull of its surface. The waves broke and dispersed into foam across the slate-colored sand, drawing back to rise and fall and break again, performing the steps of their endless dance with the serene forbearance of infinity. At the shoreline, an old man stood, gazing out over the timeless sea. Though years had stripped the mane from his hoary head, gnarled his hands and mottled his skin, he stood unbowed, his thin, bony shoulders thrown back and his bald head held high. For he had lived a life upon which he could indeed look back with well-earned pride. He had lived honestly and simply. Kept his own by the labor of his hands, and shared generously with others from what bounty nature bestowed. He had given much and taken little, loved and lost and suffered the slings and arrows of fortune without bitterness of heart. Though he had done no great deed of heroism, nor fought valiantly in any war, he would take his place among his fathers unashamed.

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

annual writing self-evaluation 📝

Many thanks and muchas smooches to @justhere4thevibez for tagging me! 🥰

1. List of works published this year (in no particular order):

chapters 56-84 of With a Little Help From My Friends (completed 5/15/23)

Next Time I Fall (24 chapters, completed 12/19/23)

Lost and Found and Turned Around (7 chapters, completed 11/16/23)

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

I’m incredibly proud of all my works, but I think probably I’m most proud of Next Time I Fall. I created a brand new rarepair, shaped a beautiful fluffy love story for them, and persevered through extreme personal difficulty to finish the fic despite the temptation to abandon it.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

There are a couple of chapters in Little Help that I feel aren’t as strong as they could’ve been. 64, 73, and 81 in particular. I don’t know what I should’ve done to make them better; I just know they needed more.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

I’ll pick one little snippet from each fic…

Little Help:

Wayne waited until she’d finished her tiny blueberry slice and was debating over which to try next. “Actually, sugar,” he said quietly to Max, “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“About what?” she asked, puzzled. “About gaining weight? That was a joke.”

“No.” He watched Eddie let Lucy lick a tiny smear of pie filling from his finger, despite Chrissy’s protest that sugar wasn’t good for cats. “About staying with us.”

A chill ran through her. “It’s still okay, right?” she said hesitantly. “My mom’s getting out of the rehab next week, but Claudia said I could stay longer if I needed to. But if that’s changed…” She trailed off, swallowing hard.

Wayne patted her shoulder. “Naw, sugar, that ain’t changed. You can stay long as you like. Fact is”— he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly bashful— “fact is, what we really want is to keep you for good.”

~~~

Next Time I Fall:

Gareth couldn’t imagine having to grow up without his mom and dad. He thought of the way Janie held so tightly to his mom every time they hugged, and a lump formed in his throat.

“They never found your parents?” he whispered. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

Honestly, he hadn’t even thought before speaking, he’d just blurted that out. But somehow it had been the right thing to say; Eddie and Chrissy’s tense expressions melted into something that looked like relief, and Janie’s crushing grip on his hand finally relaxed a little. Gareth laced his fingers through hers, giving her hand a little squeeze, before gently turning it to examine the small number tattooed on the inside of her wrist.

“Is that where this came from?” He lifted her hand to his lips, softly kissing the tiny 011. “Did they do that to you in the Lab?”

She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “It was my name,” she murmured. “That is why everyone calls me El. El is short for Eleven.”

Fucking hell. Gareth felt tears running down his cheeks, too.

~~~

Lost and Found:

“Jane, you need to wake up!” Kali tried unsuccessfully not to shout. “You really are naive! They can always take you if they really want you. You need to face facts. Your policeman cannot protect you, you have to be able to protect yourself. Are your friends helping you with that? Is your boyfriend? No, they just want you to be ‘normal’. They want you to suppress your gifts instead of using them, and they want you to forget who you are and where you came from. And if I stay here they’ll do the same to me. Putting on their hypocritical smiles as long as I convert to their idea of normal. I don’t want to hide who I am, and neither should you, Jane. You can’t heal by hiding. The only way to heal is to face up to the truth, confront and conquer your past.”

“Stop calling me naive,” Jane snapped, “just because I am trying to accept my past instead of confronting it. I confronted Papa face to face, and then I let him die, and it did not change anything. All your revenge has not changed you either.” Just as quickly as her anger flared up, it dissipated again. Her voice softened, her entire demeanor settling into something more gentle. “You talk a lot about healing, but you are still so mad, Kali. I think I am more healed than you are. Maybe if you stayed here, as part of my family, maybe that can heal you like it did for me.”

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

I love every single comment I get, truly I do. But I think the ones that made me smile the most this year were the few on Next Time I Fall that basically said ‘I never would’ve considered El and Gareth together but your fic made me ship them’. Is there any greater compliment? 😄

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Basically the last eight weeks have been awful. I got covid, and had barely recovered from that when a family emergency happened and I was thrown into the role of caregiver, and since then just more and more stuff keeps going wrong. I’m exhausted and honestly in a pretty dark place, mentally and emotionally, right now.

And yet. In spite of that I finished both Next Time and Lost and Found. Neither of them seem to have made any great impact— I barely even got any comments on either finale— but it was a goal of mine to finish them both and I’m still proud I managed to achieve that.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Kali, in Lost and Found, was so much fun to explore! I rewatched “The Lost Sister” before I started writing this fic, and I realized that I still hated her obnoxious friends but Kali herself was a super interesting character with a lot of potential. I had a lot of fun digging into what might possibly make her want to reconnect with El, and what would make her feel drawn to Steve. Also it surprised me how much I ship Stali now!

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I learned that my stories come out better when I write them the way I want them, instead of “taking requests” and pushing the characters in directions I wouldn’t have chosen if left to my own devices. I feel like certain parts of Little Help suffered because of this, so I resolved I’d stick to my own plans for Next Time and later Lost and Found, and I think those two fics came out better for it.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

Next year, if I write any more, I want to somehow learn not to be so obsessed with stats. Stop comparing my kudos/comments count to other fics and feeling sad and inadequate. I have no idea how to accomplish this, but it’s where I need to be if I’m going to keep writing.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Oh it’s 1000% @pearlypairings — she’s been all of the above for me and so much more! Lost and Found would never have happened without her, and Next Time would likely have been abandoned unfinished.

11. Anything in your real life show up in your writing this year:

Lots of things, yeah, I don’t think I can help adding little bits and pieces of myself to my stories. I write the kind of world I’d like to see, and populate it with characters I either want to be like or wish I’d had in my own life.

A very silly specific example, though, is that I made Eddie adopt a kitten because I lost my cat last year and I missed her so much.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Um. Not really? I don’t think I’m good enough yet to be passing on wisdom to others!!!

13. Any new projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

I have a couple fun ideas jotted down in my Plot Bunnies folder, but no definite plans to start anything new right now. I gotta get out of this awful headspace before I can even think about new projects.

14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read:

@sokkas-first-fangirl @bratanimus @slowandsteddie

[acacia-may]

Hi!! Me again. Can I ask 15, 16 and 25 for the excerpt game? Thanks a lot! 😁

Hi there, friend! Thank you so much for the ask! 🥰 I'd be happy to answer these questions from the writing excerpt ask game for you.

15. An excerpt from an old piece that I like

Here's an excerpt from "I'll Be Waiting" which was a Finral and Finesse piece (and my third Black Clover fanfiction ever) ^^

“Finral?” The sound of his name made him stop in his tracks, and the portal flickered though it didn’t disappear. Lady Finesse paused for a moment before asking quietly, “Is there anything that could bring you back?” A breathy laugh escaped from his mouth before he could stop it, but he shrugged. “My family finally acknowledging me…me beating Langris…becoming the Head of House Vaude…so…a miracle?” He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “But that’s never going to—” “I’ll be waiting then.” Finral gasped at her gentle interruption. He blinked and whipped around in confusion on impulse. “For…for what?” he asked, and her kind eyes met his as she smiled at him with what he could have sworn was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. “For you to come home.”

16. An excerpt from a recent piece I want to brag about

Thank you so much for asking this dear! I feel bad because I haven't written anything Black Clover in a long time, so this will have to be an excerpt from a fic for another fandom. I've chosen an excerpt from "Tell Me Where It Hurts" which is a brotherly hurt/comfort (and eventually heavy angst) story that I wrote in January of this year. I'm really proud of this OMORI fic and how it turned out. This snippet isn't from my favorite part of the fanfic, but I chose from a portion that doesn't have any spoilers for the game. ^^ That said, I’m really happy with and proud of the descriptions in the last paragraph, so I thought it fit the "I want to brag about" prompt. Also, yes, my intense love of brothers getting along and supporting and loving each other extends to other fandoms as well... 😁 (I am so normal I swear...)

Kel shrugged him off, squirming away from him. “Hero,” he began to protest again, but he sniffled—wiping his hand across his nose then his eyes and leaving a streak of dirt on his cheek. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Hero gently interrupted, rubbing his hand comfortingly across his brother’s back. “My bike—” “It’s okay. I’ve got it.” With a reassuring nod, Hero grabbed the orange handlebars and set the bike upright again. It was in much better shape than Kel who had been flung off of it when he had hit that uneven spot in the sidewalk outside their house. Despite Hero’s gentle warnings that Kel should slow down and look out for that infamous crack in the pavement, Kel had slammed into it at rapid speed, losing his balance and skidding across the sidewalk into the dirt with a painful scraping sound. Hero could only imagine how much that had had hurt. The thought made something twist in his chest. He couldn’t stand to see the tears caught in Kel’s long eyelashes, to watch his bottom lip trembling as he tried not to cry. He wished it had been him who had crashed the bicycle rather than his brother. It probably would have hurt less.

25. An excerpt that I consider a favorite

I had to pick from "Wine Therapy" for this! It might be my favorite of all the Black Clover fanfictions that I've written, and it's is definitely one of my favorite stories I've ever written for any fandom. This is kind of long for a snippet, but the whole sequence was just so much fun to write...

“Take off your shoes and socks.” Langris practically leapt backwards in surprise. “What?” “I would roll up your pant legs too. They’ll get stained,” she added with a tilt of her head. Langris blinked at her but his mind was so muddled he couldn’t seem to find his question. Vanessa continued, “Like I already told you, if you’re going to buy this wine, you need to replace it. You can’t supply the ingredients or age it with your magic, but you can stomp the grapes.” A teasing grin spread between her cheeks. “So get to it!” “You...want me…to get into that basin and stomp these grapes with my feet?” Langris repeated in bewilderment. Vanessa nodded. “Yep. That’s exactly it. Once we have enough juice for another bottle to replace this one”—she held it up for him to see—“you are free to buy it.” Langris looked from the basin full of grapes to the bottle. “That’s disgusting. You can’t actually expect me to…” “You said you’d pay ‘any price’ for the best wine we had. This, plus 1200 Yul, is the price,” shrugged Vanessa. “Is that going to be a problem?” “I meant monetary price,” muttered Langris bitterly. “This is…this is ridiculous…and gross.” “Oh, are your feet gross?” she bantered. “Definitely wash them off beforehand, then.” She motioned to a small washtub, soap, and water nearby. “You’re making me pay in manual labor?” protested Langris. “Can’t you just raise the price? I’ll pay double what you’re asking me.” “No,” answered Vanessa with a smile. “Consider this the ‘price of perfection’ Langris.” She paused and glanced over at a nearby clock on the wall. “I’d get started if I were you, otherwise we’re going to be here all night,” she teased with a wink. Langris shook his head and gritted his teeth. What a cruel woman—he knew she was enjoying this. He sighed. But what choice did he have? He needed that wine, that perfect wine, no matter the cost—which was apparently his dignity.