#fen's wips

[alllthebadpartss]

so. I did it. I finished writing a novel. I wrote and completed a whole ass book.

Now, I know my work is far from done. I now have to go through all the drama of trying to get it published (big oof major l). But it's been a wild ride. I've wanted to light my manuscript and whole laptop on fire more times than I'd care to admit. But it's done. I don't think I've ever felt so proud of myself in my entire life. I will be proud of myself no matter what happens.

And the rest of you should be proud of yourselves, too.

It doesn't matter whether you write fanfics or original stories. Whether you want to be self published or be traditionally published. Whether you want to be published at all, or to just leave it as a personal project that bought you joy or helped you through a tough time. Whether you finish it or abandon it half way through because it's not the right project and it's not the right time.

You should all be proud, too.

Because you're writers. We're writers.

Okay. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[allourwaywardsouls]

• Wandoona • Monsters The Maley Files •

It all started when the Adlers moved to town.

Wandoona was the kind of place where nothing ever happened—until something did. The new kids weren’t here a week before they stumbled onto a mystery no one wanted solved. People were vanishing. Shadows moved where they shouldn’t. And the deeper they dug, the more they realized that Wandoona had been keeping a secret for a very long time.

Monsters are real.

Now, the new kids, along with their reluctant allies— a girl with a violent past and a boy with too much to prove must become the hunters before they become the hunted.

Because Wandoona isn’t just home to monsters. It feeds them.

And it’s hungry.

A supernatural thriller with the grit of Boy Swallows Universe and the eerie tension of Stranger Things, this series dives deep into the things that lurk in the dark—both the monsters outside and the ones within.

The hunt begins now. Are you ready?

WAYWARD: PART ONE

“ 𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 ”

(intro coming soon)

[hockeyspiral23]

"Why did you ask her age?" He looks at me expectantly. I smirk. "Because normally, scar bonds manifest when the youngest of the pair comes of age, which is historically considered 15. Obviously that's not 'of age' anymore, but it still holds true for the vast majority of soulmate bonds. So, when Cat turns 15, we can officially deny the betrothal with proof." I see the cogs turning in his head. "Because we can prove that she's not my soulmate at that point." "Exactly. The easiest way to prove it will be, unfortunately, to cut you deep enough to leave a scar, but it'll be worth it." Xaden frowns for a moment. "It's just -" he closes his mouth, pressing his lips together tightly. "Just what?" I ask gently. "Just ... should we scar me on purpose, knowing that my soulmate will also feel that pain?" He drums his fingers on the seat next to him. I lean back, stunned at the question. Truth be told, I never even thought of it that way. Pride swells in my chest, though, because him thinking that proves his worthiness of his birthright. I know I need to respond, however, so I choose my words carefully. "Sometimes, other things are more important than our temporary pain. It's often the cost of being a leader."

[aceouttatime]

WIP sketch of my First-Contact-era unlikely duo: Iterius and Viktoria. I'm letting them have a Single Happy Moment for the sake of my current Need to draw them holding hands. This is definitely how you teach someone sign language! Look at this man, look at him getting his education! (He has no idea what's going on.)

[daggerbeanart]

something for wip wednesday, as long as it’s still wednesday somewhere :3

tags: @dungeons-and-dragon-age @greypetrel @ndostairlyrium @shivunin 💜

[transthadymacdermot]

Round the Heath: a wip intro

Genre: historical fiction, political fiction

Themes: colonialism, generational trauma, the morality of political violence, envy, classism

Status: 400000000th draft

One night in 18-- an armed gang of angry catholic tenants on an estate near Newry, Ireland, torture and kill a schoolmaster for the crime of attempting to impress the english language upon their children. Though the operation itself is deftly executed, the consequences spiral outwards: the local bailiff vows revenge, and the tenants themselves are divided on the justification of such an act -- some of them so much that they're willing to go to lengths they would once have never considered to prevent it ever happening again. And then, in the midst of the scandal, the estate's absentee landlord suddenly descends from London to knock some sense into his agent, and the gang leader who shot the schoolmaster dead, already struggling to keep his own men from killing one another, finds himself immediately beginning an ill-advised affair with the landlord's wife. As tensions reach a boiling point what began as a simple revenge killing threatens to snip the fragile thread connecting the district to any sort of tentative peace.

Also known as "RRL edit." main characters under the cut

Eoin ("owen") O'Donnell - a Defender or Ribbonmen leader

Mary Boyle - a young woman who works as a servant

Aoife ("eefa") Boyle - Eoin's girlfriend and Mary's cousin

Dan Maguire - Eoin's best friend, a Defender or Ribbonman

Donal McCluskey - Eoin's cousin, a Defender or Ribbonman

Charlie Shanaghan - Eoin's rival for leadership within the gang

Kathleen Mallon - Mary's best friend and Eoin's fwb

Sarah Connolly - Mary's friend; trapped in an abusive marriage

Lady Bateman - a landlady

Lord Bateman - a landlord

Mr William MacTier - a bailiff

Mr Samuel Glanton - a land agent

[dragon-subway]

Pls… I need to see poncho squad… for the WIP game..

They’re…….so magestic

looking forward to finally drawing cake in his armour

Wip ask game here!

[anhdaosart]

wip, ngl i kinda slayed with these two designs....

[heartsofhounds]

OKAY that’s a little better- still just a sketch for now and still working out better colours!

[alllthebadpartss]

new fic by ya girl just dropped

(it's a little short but it's been stuck in my head for like two days)

[violetsarepurple-fuckyou]

WIP Game

I am so incredibly late to the party on this one! But! I was so incredibly honored to be invited!!! @eliotqueliot tagged me, and this was the first time I have EVER been tagged in something like this, so even though my response is late to a degree of insanity, please know that it literally filled me with an explosion of joy that I was thought of and included 💕

Ok, Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs. Buckle in folks, I have SO many.

I'm keeping it just to The Magicians, but if anyone would like me to repeat this process with other fandoms I am in but not primarily focused on right this moment (like Merlin or TMA, both of which I have pretty solid handfuls of fics in the works for that I will get around to eventually) feel free to ask! Also feel free to ask me literally anything about any of my fics at any time, because that would actually excite me beyond all mortal comprehension! OK! Here goes.

And just so everyone knows, a lot of my docs are just named with an autofill of part of the first sentence written there, so I'm really going to get some mileage out of the 'non-descriptive and ridiculous' part of the rule lol

The memory wipe was not

A Reluctant Coin Toss

Something Borrowed

(Eliot steals the Time Key)

5+1+3

Queliot dnd fic

Brian walks through his favorite bookstore

And Death was a Joke

Vampire Eliot series season two

Green-eyed Monster

The Cottage was empty and quiet – somewhat shockingly seeing as most of those missing in attendance were hardly social butterflies – but three first year additions (and Penny) to the Physical Kids residence was more than was customary and the whole building was just a lot less densely packed without them.

Quell Your Love Spell

Eliot Waugh's Adventures in Soothing a High-strung Super Nerd

Eliot was right

Eliot and Quentin have been… weird since Margo retrieved the Time Key.

Fen's eyes sparkle when she cries

Of Prophecies -- Princes, Parrots, Pirates, and Paupers -- and the Prepared

Sksksksksk

Fennel Seeds

Excerpt from A Flock of Lost Birds – Book One of The Adventures of Sam Cunningham series:

I think that is all of them??? All of the ones I actually have stuff written for and not in a notebook anyway lol, I have more ideas and snippets scattered across various journals. Please please please ask me questions, holy shit, I would love that! Honestly, I cannot think of anyone to tag that hasn't been already, so I'm gonna leave this here I think.

[ramonothere]

steam world dig fandom rise up!!!!!!!!!!!!

[enlichened]

📊 Current number of WIPs + 🌙 What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?

WOO hello :^)

Current number of WIPs just for fanfiction.... Six? (giant Geralt witcher study, giant the outsider DH study, my ryder from MEA's whole thing, my sadly near-abandoned beaujest au, my even more abandoned spock startrek study, and my deeply embarrassing johnny storm fic that's reared its head recently.)

I wake up super late generally, but I like to write around 12 pm - 6pm? Anytime after that I'm tired and anytime before it I'm loopy.

[fennethianell]

Heyy, I just want to thank you for your art!

The starmora missing moments are everything to me! Since GOTG3 came out, the fandom became full of sadness and angst for Peter and Gamora. I'd just like to remember them when everything was simpler and they were at their happiest, between GOTG2 and IW, and you make this possible 🥲💜💚

Aww! I'm so glad I can bring some happiness to this fandom and make you smile 🫶🏻 I'm determined to create nice things. Being sad about stuff for too long is never constructive imo. I like to work with canon and make it better for myself.

To be honest, this supposed to be post vol3 actually, but it works as a between vol2 and IW too! Anyone can interpret it the way they want, most important they're happy and in love 💜

[blueburds-but-swtor]

Fen & Zenith wip

too lazy to swap and post to my art account @kitblueburdart but I'll be posting the full there

[inscrutable-shadow]

Whumptober 2023 Day 2 - Take Two and Call Me in the Morning

@whumptober-archive

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don’t care about you.”

contains: swearing and a generally pissed-off pseudo-supervillain

also available on ao3!

“Are we done here?” I feel like shit. I don’t really want to sit here being poked and prodded for God knows how long.

“Doctor Discontent,” or Doc Disco as he’s more commonly called around here, spins around in the office chair. “Absolutely not. Hellraiser herself comes into my office complaining of a mysterious malady, and you expect me to send her home with two pills and a glass of water?”

I sigh. “Are you even a real doctor? I just wanted cold medicine or someshit.”

“Have you ever gotten a cold before?” I notice how he doesn’t answer whether or not he’s a real doctor.

“You mean… since the Nova? No. You said I’m too hot for it.” My natural body temperature’s pretty high now, usually somewhere around a hundred and six. Doc Disco says it’s a miracle my brain doesn’t fry, but it’s also a “miracle” that I can melt steel with my breath, so I don’t put a lot of stock in that.

He smiles mischievously and I recoil a bit, feeling like an experiment. “So, when you present with a cough and malaise, what I would usually consider a mundane rhinovirus and treat with rest, I’m duty-bound to investigate. Let’s start with your temperature, why don’t we? Won’t hurt a bit.”

Whether or not the thermometer’ll hurt is the least of my worries, but I don’t really have a choice if I want anything for this. I can’t keep coughing all the time, I haven’t been able to control the temperature at all and I’ve already melted a full set of tableware. I already spend most of my time on edge trying to make sure I don’t burn everything around me. I can’t fucking function like this. Plus, I’m tired and I can’t even smoke.

Doc puts the metal end of the thermometer in my mouth and I just try to concentrate on not coughing at it. I think he can tell I’m holding my breath. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he lets out a low whistle. “You haven’t been experiencing any muscle cramps or nausea by any chance?” I would shake my head no, but it makes my headache worse. “Pupillary response is normal, at least. Your internal temperature is one fourteen point six. Even for you, I’d consider that hyperpyrexia. And yet, you seem to be, well, not no worse for wear, but not seizing on my floor, at least.”

I blink at him. “And… that’s a good thing, right? That I’m not… seizing? Are you gonna help me or not?” I don’t really enjoy hearing that I should be dying.

“Of course I’ll help, but I need to identify the problem first.” He pulls one of those long cotton swabs out of a drawer and puts new gloves on. “We’ll do some cultures and I’ll put you on an antipyretic. How’s that sound?”

Uh, yeah, no. “If you stick that thing down my throat, I’m gonna cough on you.” I’m basically an oven right now: at best, it’ll blister, and at worst, I’ll set him on fire. Falcon’ll kill me if “Doctor Discontent” isn’t ready to fight “Fist of Justice” (yeah, I know) tomorrow night. Besides, as much as he weirds me out, he doesn’t really deserve a second-degree burn.

Doc frowns. “Ah. Well, could you try to hold it back?”

“Whatever happened to ‘germs can’t live in my body because it’s too hot’? It’s not like the Nova did anything to them. What’s the point in cultures?” I’m trying really hard not to cough anyway. It’s not going well.

He wags a finger. “Not true, actually. Several types of beneficial bacteria are perfectly comfortable in your usual body temperature range. Otherwise, we would have had to work out an alternate solution for your digestive health. It’s entirely possible that an extremophile version of a common rhinovirus or streptococci may have taken up residence in your mucosa! It’d be a delight to study it.” I hate it when he talks like that. “Here, why don’t you have a dose of core suppressant and we’ll try after that?”

Not gonna work. “I’ve been chugging the shit like water. Won’t bring my temp down even a little.” Most of the suppressant in the building probably goes to me for one reason or another. Perks of being Hellraiser, I guess.

Doc’s brow furrows again. “I think I’ve talked to you about the consequences of overconsumption. It’s possible you provided an opening for this to happen. If you need more than sixteen ounces in four hours, you need to report for a discharge or come see me, understand?”

“Whatever, doc. Let’s just get this over with.” Fuck me. I just want to go to bed. If Doc ever finds out how much suppressant I use, he’s gonna flip his shit.

I take a deep breath and open my mouth for the swab. Maybe if I just stay extra relaxed, I won’t cough. Maybe. I’ve never really had a reason to cultivate a poor gag reflex. My tongue has other uses, if you get what I mean. My throat tightens around the scratchiness of the cotton and it takes everything I have not to breathe in or out. Every second is hell, but eventually, the swab is pulled out. Doc has just enough time to get out of the blast radius before the explosion comes.

The choking, hacking coughs I’m about used to at this point. I didn’t mean to start super-heating anything else, though. I’m too busy worrying about trying to breathe again to care that jets of plasma aren’t just coming from my nose, but also circling my chest and legs just like they would if I were performing. I distantly hear “Fen, please!” (he never calls me that, nobody does except Portent, it’s always just ‘Hellraiser’) before, moments later, I’m drenched in fire extinguisher foam.

I wipe the soapy stuff out of my eyes. “Get what you wanted?”

“Uh, yes. I’ll… run these. That’s… I can see why you were concerned.”

Nobody in this place ever fucking listens to me. “Yeah. Hope I didn’t get you with any of that. Tried to control it, but you know how it is.”

Doc sets the fire extinguisher down on his desk and puts a hand on his hip. “No, I’m just fine. Can’t say the same for my examination bench.” Oof. Yeah, that shit’s melted. It’s gonna have my assprint in it forever now. Not even my clothes got spared, even though they’re special heat resistant fabric designed to withstand me. I actually like this hoodie, and now it’s full of holes. Shouldn’t have expected so much out of it, I guess. These aren’t my performance wear so they’re not rated for temperatures hot enough to warp steel.

“Fuck me. Guess that’s my collateral budget.”

Doc frowns and rummages in a cabinet for a minute before handing me a pill bottle. “Why don’t you take this cough suppressant while I figure out if it’s viral or bacterial? Prevent any more… incidents.” Fucking finally.

taglist: @athenswrites