#fic wot I wrote

[highladyluck]

A tiny little ficlet for Forsaken Week!

"Moiraine, we have to leave, now. They could come back at any moment," Mat said.

Thom had rushed to Moiraine's side, and was supporting her, looking curiously like a Warder. He nodded. "We should not waste Valan Luca's last and greatest show."

Mat turned to the other woman in the chamber, who looked back at him coolly with those large, dark eyes. She was stunningly beautiful and incredibly poised. Something about the combination niggled at his memory. "You too, mistress. I won't leave anyone behind for these foxes to gnaw on."

"Mat, that is Lanfear," Moiraine cut in sharply, her chiming accent sounding somehow strange to his ears. Or maybe it was just what she said. "One of the Forsaken. Daughter of the Night."

"But she…" looks so familiar, he stopped himself from saying. Where had he seen someone that looked like her? How could he have forgotten seeing someone who looked like her? Then the full force of Moiraine's statement hit him, and he grunted.

"That's Lanfear? Lanfear is here too?" He tried not to shout, but it was still louder than he intended. "Who else might I expect here, Aes Sedai? The Daughter of the Nine Moons, here to claim me as her consort, after I rescue her from durance vile?"

Moiraine's eyebrows drew together, as if she were concentrating. She opened her mouth hesitantly, and Mat barely had time to regret his slip of the tongue before the other woman- Lanfear!- responded.

"I answer to that title, as well," she said, in a light, amused tone. "Yet I had thought it lost to this Age."

[markantonys]

relationship: lanfear/lews therin/ishamael rating: T length: 1.7k summary: Mierin sighed and took a sip of wine. “Elan, dear,” she said. “Tell me you didn’t come all this way just to bore and depress us.”

The boys broke off and looked over at her. “Forgive me if I interrupted your little holiday,” Elan said.

Lews smiled at him, the debate already forgotten. “You could never interrupt,” he said warmly, but Elan kept his eyes on Mierin. They had their own agreements, and they both knew, even if Lews didn’t, that her permission was what mattered.

[moiraineswife]

Taken and Paid - A Moiraine & Anvaere Fic

Title: Taken and Paid

Warnings: SPOILERS for episode 4 of season 2! And canon-typical continuation of the themes of abuse, manipulation, suicidal ideation, coping very badly with trauma, depression - the usual Moiraine stuff for this season, in a nutshell.

Summary: 

A continuation of the scene between Anvaere and Moiraine where her sister reveals that she knows the information Moiraine seeks, and that if Moiraine wants it, she must subject herself to the invitation she refused that morning, and sit and have tea.

Teaser:  So Moiraine took what she wanted, and paid the price that was owed.

She got down on her knees and lowered herself into the chair opposite her sister. She raised her hands in supplication and reached out to accept the extended cup. She tied a noose around the last remaining shreds of her dignity and pride and took a small sip. She let herself go as a tribute to the Dragon, who could never claim she was unfaithful, as she smiled in apparent enjoyment of sharing a warm drink on a cold night with a beloved family member.

Link: AO3 or Read Below:

“If you want to know about that redheaded boy from the inn you’re going to have to ask me very nicely… over tea.”

Looking into Anvaere’s quietly triumphant face as she delivered her final line, this little play that she had planned and set the stage for having just been performed to perfection in her eyes, given the ever-so subtle satisfaction that placed that perfect emphasis on the word ‘tea’; Moiraine felt for a moment as though she was at the Eye of the world once more. Trembling as Ishamael stared down upon her in exaltation of his power and his control as she lay stripped and vulnerable at his feet.

The stench of the Blight, fetid and inescapable as the twisted heart within her own chest, was thick in her mouth again. For a fleeting moment the room shifted, and the dark furniture became dark stone, the twisting patterns of the carved window frames the twisting patterns of Ishamael’s seal, the flickering fire-light the glow of her power before it was snuffed thoughtlessly like an insignificant candle. 

She was powerless again. She was on her knees again. She was backed into a corner, walls all around. She was convulsing with pain and violation as Ishamael lorded over her powerless form again.

Blinking, the memory cleared. It was something Moiriane had become rather well-practised at in the last few months. Everything, no matter how small, no matter how innocent, no matter how obviously well-intentioned, sent her back to that place. At times she had even wondered if the Forsaken was capable of haunting and shaping waking nightmares, as he had haunted the sleeping dreams of Rand and the others. But no. It was not the Forsaken. Moiraine did not matter enough to him for him to waste his time with her. It had only ever been her own weakness. A weakness she would overcome. Every day for the rest of her life, if that was what it took. The stubborn defiance faded to a shiver at the prospect, but she had control again.

Moiraine looked at Anvaere, looked at her, and truly saw her. So pleased with the success of her little scheme, so jubilant in her exaltant victory. The deliverance of her just punishment to the sister who had done the most unthinkable and unforgivable thing a Cairhien noble could ever do to rest of their pit of vipers: escaped. 

It struck her then, the reality of the situation, that while she had struggled, and fought, and desperately sought to find, and train, and save the Dragon Reborn so that he might save all of them in turn; Anvaere had sat and schemed and sought to forced Moiraine to accept her invitation to tea after scorning it that morning.

She wanted to laugh. To laugh, without humour, until she could not breathe, because of the absurdity, of the near hysterical way the Wheel seemed to be forcing her to confront what she might have become had she stayed here. 

She wanted to scream. Scream until her throat was raw and the pretty little porcelain of Anvaere’s neat little tea-set, and the vile glass in the judgemental mirror shattered and revealed how empty and pointless they all truly were. The Forsaken were being released, released because of her, because of the choices she had made, the plans that she had set in motion. Now this. This game she had always despised and now, more than ever, had no desire, and no damn time to play.

She wanted to fall to her knees and weep. Weep for the cruelty of the Wheel. For, time and again, when she was quite sure that she had lost everything a single person could lose, when she had nothing left to sacrifice, and nothing left to pledge to prove her loyalty, and her devotion: it asked for yet more. It took every last fragment of strength she had not to sink down the ground and sob because nothing was ever easy. Nothing was ever given. Everything had to be taken. Everything had to be paid for.

What she took was always the same: something to advance her mission. A scrap of knowledge, a prophecy, a scrap of lore, an artefact that may hold answers, a secret that may prove vital. The price changed with whom she needed to purchase from. Some wanted coin, some wanted information, some wanted secrets, or favours, or power. Today Anvaere wanted her pride. Served up to her on a silver platter, raw and bloody, as the prime cut of a kill should be.

Pride was all Moiraine had clung to after the Eye. It was all that had kept her from taking the dagger she had tempted Logain with and using it to cut free the last tether she had keeping her in place. Like snipping free the final tendon holding a severed and useless limb in place, too stubborn to let go, too stupid to realise that such stubbornness was utterly pointless. 

Pride was what had driven her, day by day, to wake up, to force herself to rise from bed with nothing to do and no purpose to strive towards, to put one foot in front of the other, even when the result was more a shamble or a stagger than a walk, to carry her water and try to clean off the feeling of being dirty and contaminated that she knew could not be scrubbed from her skin when it had sunk in and settled like scum on her bones and on her very soul, but that she did anyway.

Pride was what had stopped her from ever being able to let another person see her weakness, never willingly handing a vulnerability to a potential enemy, never being able to admit that it was sometimes agony just to breathe.

Pride was Anvaere’s price. And she knew there would be no negotiation, no haggling, no bargaining, no escape. For they both knew that Moiraine needed what her sister held, and that she had no other way of getting it, as her futile, exhausting efforts in the city that day had only served to underline.

So Moiraine took what she wanted, and paid the price that was owed. 

She got down on her knees and lowered herself into the chair opposite her sister. She raised her hands in supplication and reached out to accept the extended cup. She tied a noose around the last remaining shreds of her dignity and pride and took a small sip. She let herself go, hanged as a tribute to the Dragon, who could never claim she was unfaithful, as she smiled in apparent enjoyment of sharing a warm drink on a cold night with a  beloved family member.

“You really shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble,” Moiraine said, with the expected courtly perfection of a refined polite, slightly self-depreciating tone, as was appropriate when falsely humbling oneself to thank their host for providing the poison they now sipped on together, “just to have a cup of tea with your sister,” she said, with a smile she was sure was uncannily like the one she had practised in the mirror that morning, revolted and slightly chilled to realise that, after all this time, the mask they’d held her down and sewn onto her face still slipped seamlessly and easily back over her features.

“Well,” Anvaere began, responding with the appropriate level of graciousness and deference to their honoured guest whom they hosted in their home with around the same level of reluctance they would hand over their jewels to an uncouth man with a dirty dagger at their neck, “I wouldn’t have been forced to do so had you not made me,” she crooned condescendingly, smiling as though Moiriane was a child she’d just had to slap for putting her hand too close to a fire.

And there it was. The dark undercurrent of drive that had shadowed her entire life and shaped her entire person: she had been made to be hurt. If she had not been foolish and cried at court when the maid she’d loved had been sentenced to death for stealing kitchen scraps from the noble’s meals, her Uncle would not have needed to punish her for it. 

If she had simply done as was expected of her, had perfected her steps at the first instance, as she should have done so, her dance instructor would not have been forced to snap at her bare feet with a cane until they were raw and bloody, for if she had done it right, she would have missed the blows, and would have pristine, perfect feet - as a Damodred should have.

If she had not been blocked in her channeling, she would not have needed her mentor to assault and beat her with the One Power until she finally broke through the pain to embrace the Source herself and fight back.

If she had not been so foolish, and so stupid, and so wrong she would not have let herself be Cut off from the Source at the Eye of the World.

Every failure was her fault, and was a reason for pain; every triumph was a result of that pain, and therefore ultimately attributable to those who had caused it, not to her.

Swallowing down the unseemly surge of bitterness that had threatened to mar her courtly poise, so like the expected Aes Sedai serenity, simply with its own purposes and quirks to suit the Cairhien society, rather than the Tower one, Moiraine took another drink of tea to force down the sour thoughts and smiled blandly over the rim at Anvaere.

“Are you enjoying your tea?” her sister asked, in a tone so sweet it had to be poisonous, and told Moiraine quite clearly that she had not been as swift in hiding her distasteful thoughts as she wished she had.

“It is a very pleasant blend,” Moiraine returned a little stiffly, forcing herself to take another grudging drink.

Anvaere’s eyes glinted at that, and she opened her mouth to say something else–

“So, sister,” Moiraine cut-in, breaking the formal flow of their conversation in a misstep that would have been considered near scandalous, had she actually cared, the pretence slipping, as did her patience. Sitting up a little straighter, she barreled forth before Anvaere could say something else and draw out this agony any further, “you clearly wished to take tea with me very much,” Moiraine noted, as though Anvaere’s obsessive dedication and aggressive reassertion of control over Moiraine’s slightest perceived flouting of that was an admirable trait, “was there something you wished to discuss with me in particular?”

“Well typically,” Anvaere replied, with a very mildly wounded inflection in her voice, almost playful in its insincerity, “when a beloved family member, especially one as close as a sister, is away for an extended period of time, as you have been,” she said, each little addition a perfectly shaped and sharpened knife designed to slide efficiently and ruthlessly between Moiraine’s ribs to stab directly into her heart, “it’s customary for them catch up as it were,” she said with a smile that would have been genuinely warm and full of sisterly affection had both of them not known very plainly that Moiraine despised doing this in all of its forms, “you’ve been gone so long,” she said with a mournful cast to her eyes, though the sharpness and shrewdness never left them for a moment, “I would so like to hear how you’re doing.”

“Of course you would,” Moiraine said, and her tone and expression, too, mirrored that expected sisterly warmth, as though they were at a table full of dinner guests they could not embarrass with the explosive fight they’d been having moments before walking through the doors to the banquet hall and now had to keep up appearances, and not sitting alone together in Moiraine’s old bedroom. “It’s only natural, after all,” she smiled, even though she now knew, having learned from Siuan and Lan, that the relationship and dynamic she had grown up with in her family was about as natural as a shark scenting the fresh blood of a wounded seal and choosing to to nurse the poor creature back to health rather than simply ripping it apart to feast as was its nature.

“I do still know you, sweet Moiraine,” Anvaere simpered, leaning forward to pat Moiraine’s hand. It took more self-control than she would ever admit not to instinctively pull back from the unwanted touch. “I know that doing things like this can make you feel a little awkward and uncomfortable,” she gave an entirely humourless little laugh, with a subtle undercurrent of mockery, audible only to her as she added, with false fondness, “our Moiraine, so humble, with such humility, never wanting to flaunt her accomplishments or her talents,” she side with a smile.

Moiraine reflected, with a twist of something that might have been true regret for the state of this relationship and what their world had forced them to become to one another, that if Anvaere were to ever learn about what had happened to Moiraine at the Eye, about how she could no more channel than her teapot could, while outwardly she might be able to put on a decent show of sorrow and pity, deep down she would feel nothing but satisfaction and vindication that the prized apple at the very peak of House Damodred’s family tree had toppled from her great heights and proved rotten and weak to the core.

“So to make it a little easier for you,” Anvaere was saying now, and Moiraine forced her focus back to her, even as her exhausted and already strained and stretched mind longed for nothing more than to swipe the cup from Anvaere’s hand against the wall and order her to get out and leave her be. “I thought we might make a little game out of it,” she said with a nostalgic little smile, glancing very pointedly at the large portrait that loomed above them, in pride of place above the mantle.

It had been a gift, a request of Moiraine’s, actually, for a nameday when she had been twelve, or perhaps thirteen. They had been close, once. There had been a true fondness and love between them at one time. When they had been children, and had still been sweet and blind enough to believe that they could be different, that they could be the siblings in Cairhien who never worried about backstabbing, or betrayal, or even assassination from the other. As they had grown, and their Uncle, more and more, had Moiraine groomed as heir, while Anvaere was groomed as little more than a broodmare had started to strain that relationship. Moiraine revealing she could channel had utterly broken it beyond repair. Yet she had kept the portrait, as a memory of things that, while they were not, and would never be again, had still been a small source of comfort, and joy; a reminder of better, happier times, short lived though they had been.

Now Moiraine would have happily torn the portrait from its place on the wall and cast it, and the judgemental eyes of its naive, foolish occupants into the fire until it was nothing but smoke and memory.

“You remember how we used to love games when we were girls?” Anvaere said, as though following Moiraine’s own path of thoughts, likely thinking very similarly to her, ironically.

“How could I forget?” Moiraine replied with a false little laugh that made the self-loathing lurking within her rise up and hiss its own cruel, malicious laughter in the back of her mind, knowing it would replay over and over again when sleep refused to claim her because the monsters in her mind had not yet had their say.

“Indeed,” Anvaere returned, not missing a beat in this little dance they did together now. “Well I thought that it could something like this,” she began, meaning, it will work exactly like this, or you won’t see so much as a scrap of information from me, “but I will ask you a question, likely about what you’ve been up to while you’ve been away from us,” she smiled, as though this was an exciting adventure she longed to hear about, and not the bitterest truth that had stirred hate in her heart for Moiraine as nothing else could have: the fact that she had escaped this world, while Anvaere had been chained to it so long she’d been forced to truly become it, not merely to live in it, “and then, if I’m happy with your answer,” she added, a slightly harder note entering as if to remind Moiraine that, in spite of all these niceties and politeness and pleasantries, Anvaere was still firmly in control of this interaction, “you can ask me a question in turn,” she smiled, “about anything at all that you wish to know.”

“That sounds like a very fair arrangement,” Moiraine said, hesitating just a fraction too long, long enough that they both knew Anvaere had seen her briefly falter and slip on a step, “and I believe that you should go first, as you were the one to propose it,” Moiraine said, graciously inclining her head and saluting her with a slight raise of her teacup, before bringing it to her mouth and swigging down too much of the still scalding liquid at once, feeling a strange satisfaction as it burned her throat and left it raw as it went down.

“How sweet of you,” Anvaere returned. Then she shifted in her chair, sitting up a little straighter, and Moiraine mentally braced herself for what was to come. “Truly, I have to confess, that what I have been simply dying to hear about more than anything at all simply has to be your husband,” she beamed, sitting with her chin propped on the hand that wore her wedding ring, which caught the firelight and gleamed almost threateningly between them.

Moiraine’s heart went tight. Well, at least she could say for Anvaere that, once she decided to finally get right down for it, she wasted no time in simply going straight for the killing blow. They both knew that this was a particularly sore point. As they both knew that, more than politics, or betrayals, poisoning or parties, assassinations or assaults, what Moiraine most feared and dreaded as a fact of her life was the idea of having to marry a man, to be forced to his bed, to bear his children, to become chained and beholden to him. They both knew that was a fate that she had escaped, fleeing from an arranged marriage to instead go to the White Tower and train. Anvaere had not been so lucky. Her husband had passed only a few years ago, with no love between them, and enough children that the mere thought made Moiraine feel slightly sick.

Moiraine took another sip of tea, to give herself time to regain her poise, but most of the liquid dribbled down her chin instead because of how her hand was shaking, and she had to duck to wipe it away, utterly ruining the intended effect.

“My husband?” she repeated with feigned confusion, frowning politely at her sister, quite sure that this little farce would not be believed, but that wasn’t really the point.

The point was she needed a moment to gather her wits and curse her sister. Why in the Light did it have to be about Lan? Why wouldn’t she have asked about almost anything else? But of course that was not the Cairhien way, was it? When one identified what was undoubtedly the best weapon to use for a current fight, one did not choose a less effective tool simply because it would have shown a hint of mercy. That might result in a loss, and a loss was unacceptable. It did not matter if something was gained by the purest and most noble methods, or the dirtiest and vilest of tricks that many a cutpurse would have flinched at. All that mattered was that you came out better than your opponent. By whatever means necessary.

“Oh, are you not married to him?” Anvaere said, continuing this painful little charade of pretence, just to draw it out, twist the knife and force it a little deeper before she withdrew it and allowed it to bleed freely for her own amusement, “I apologise for making the assumption,” she replied, very clearly slighting Moiraine by implying that it would have been wrong to assume she would be a decent, upstanding woman and marry the man she was bedding, as she would be expected to. 

Waving her fingers idly, Anvaere added carelessly, “but I’m sure you know well the one I mean,” and though this comment was only a stepping stone in passing for her, unseen and unknown, the damage it caused was deeper and more lasting than Anvaere could ever know. 

Yes. She had known him well, had known him better than anyone, in fact. Moiraine swallowed down tightly past the tight knot of emotion forming in her throat. She had not thought of Lan, had deliberately kept her thoughts on anything else, since leaving him, for every time she remembered his face, or heard his voice chide her for not eating or sleeping as much as she should be, it almost made her wish that she was back at the Eye with Ishamael, as that would have been far less painful to endure. She could not lose her composure now, could not reveal to Anvaere just how much of a weakness Lan was for her. Anvaere had told her that she saw Moiraine as a threat. And Moiraine well knew how threats were to be dealt with in Cairhien. Any weapon that could be used against an enemy would be, and any potential weapon would be found so that it could be held in reserve and used to threaten as needed. She would not allow Lan to suffer the consequences of her weakness and failures yet again.

Returning her full attention to her sister, she heard, with a clarity as sharp and cutting as freshly broken glass, as Anvaere said casually, “that brooding man who is always at your side,” she raised an eyebrow very slightly as she added pointedly, “well, usually at your side, in any case.” When Moiraine, jaw clenched, remaining silent and missing yet another beat of the dance, unable to trust herself with speaking when she was not sure she could open her mouth without screaming, Anvaere continued mercilessly, “he had eyes so hard and cold I would have bet they would chill the very fires of Dragonomount,” she said with a contemptuous twist to her mouth, “let alone a woman,” she added with an affected little shudder.

Moiraine’s hand, the one not currently strangling her teacup, clenched tightly on the arm of her chair, and she was quite sure, given Anvaere’s slight flicker as her own mask slipped, that she had not concealed the anger at this insult well at all.

“Regardless,” Anvaere said, licking her lips as though almost thinking better of this, side-stepping her rudeness as if it was as insignificant and beneath her notice as a dirty puddle in her way on the street, “do tell me all,” she pressed with a seemingly warm and inviting smile.

Her mouth did not say ‘or I will tell you nothing of what you want to know’ but her eyes could not have made it plainer where they peered expectantly at Moiraine over the rim of her own cup.

“Lan is not, and has never been,” Moiraine clarified swiftly, before Anvaere decided to twist the knife any further and force her to go over this again, “my husband. Nor were we ever involved that way,” she added, unable to stop a little of the exhaustion she felt bleed into her words.

It was not the tiredness of her body that was unbearable to her, though it was certainly beginning to weigh on her, but how simply exhausted she was by this entire culture and way of life in Cairhien. Where every phrase in a conversation with her sister had to be examined for loopholes to swiftly close lest they be taken advantage, as though she was eternally stuck making endless bargains with the Sea Folk. Every word out of her mouth was weighed, and judged, and measured, every breath was critiqued, every step taken drawing raised eyebrows and whispers behind hands. It had been less than a day and she felt strung up, skinned and gutted. How had she survived here for so long as a child?

“Yet you spent such time together,” Anvaere pressed, her eyes wide, as though Moiraine was sharing a juicy piece of scandalous gossip, “travelling alone together with only a man, sharing rooms at inns, if the rumours are to be believed.”

“He– He was my Warder,"Moiraine broke in, speaking too swiftly, wishing to simply shut Anvaere’s perfectly painted mouth. 

Only Anvaere could do this to her, get under her skin this way, provoke a temper she’d not had in years. And in doing so she had also forced Moiraine to stumble once more. She’d felt the slip herself as her Oath caught and gagged her when she'd briefly tried to say 'he is my Warder', for that was no longer true. Not after what she'd done. 

“Was?” Anvaere said, pouncing immediately upon the word like a rabid street dog upon an injured mouse attempting to scurry past it, “Did something happen?” she asked, with a very appropriate level of expected concern. ‘Did something happen?’ Light. What a question. With so many answers, and so much pain attached to it. Moiraine blinked and forced herself to take another too large gulp of tea, letting the blistering in her throat distract her, letting her draw herself back to the room, away from the Eye, so that she could hear Anvaere conclude with saccharine sweetness, “nothing too terrible, I hope?”

"No,” Moiraine answered mechanically,  “not at all.” Quite the opposite, in fact. Terrible would have been bringing him here, subjecting him to this vile place, wasting more of his life with her, until it was ultimately, pointlessly, cut short attempting to prolong the miserable excuse for existence hers had become. “I suppose you could say that he has…moved on to greener pastures,” she said with a forced smile, betraying nothing of the raging tempest of emotions within her.

"Ah," Anvaere sighed, with a look that would almost have been pitying, had Moiraine not caught the glint of satisfaction as she watched her sister come to her own conclusions about what exactly that meant. "A lesson for you, then," she said, "always marry them when they're still addled with lust for you and pliant. Uncle, for all his faults, was right about the fact that, when presented with the opportunity to make a killing blow, you should never hesitate."

Moiraine noted Anvaere’s assumption, in spite of her attempting to kill any possibility of thoughts in that direction, that Lan had only agreed to follow her initially because he’d wished to bed her, and decided it was not worth trying to scrape together more energy she frankly didn’t have to argue the point. Naturally she assumed that. It was how they were taught, and how the game was played. A woman’s sexuality is one of her only weapons, and hse must wield it accordingly to gain whatever power she can while she still has it at her disposal. She knew it would be almost impossible to explain the relationship she and Lan had to Anvaere, who simply came from such a different world that she could not even begin to imagine it, let alone accept it.

More impossible for her, still, was the sentiment behind why Moiraine had pushed Lan away. There was no greater sin in Cairhien than to not use every advantage you had. The idea of actively pushing away someone that you loved, worse, someone who was useful to you, simply for their sake? Unthinkable.  Moiraine would likely not have been able to conceive of it, either, not before Lan. For this had been his influence upon her, she knew. Ironic, given how hard he’d fought against accepting it. Sacrifice had been a language she spoke fluently and well, but letting someone go, letting them be free of the burden of duty or love so that they might be happier for it? That was a lesson that Lan had helped her to learn. Along with so many others on their journey together. And now–

“You seem to miss him,” Anvaere observed, giving voice to the very thoughts Moiraine had been working so hard to push down and ignore, lest they break her.

Her sister also betrayed a flicker of surprise in her expression for the first time, as she apparently uncovered something she had not already known was there, and was as such not expecting it. Learning things about Moiraine had never been the purpose of this little interrogation. Hurting her with things already known had been. Punishing her, in the most Cairhien of ways, showing her the consequences that came with refusing a polite invitation. Had she taken tea that morning perhaps they might have had a pleasant chat with one another. Since Moiraine had forced her to go to all of this trouble, well, now she had to pay the price.

Moiraine swallowed hard, drank her tea to give herself thinking time, for the simple truth was that she did. She had not expected it to be so much sharper and keener for the loss of his physical presence in her space. She had been missing the bond, and the emotional connection she had delivered held off, for months now, why should this have made it so much worse. Yet it had.

In the end she could come up with no way to talk around her First Oath and was forced to say, very quietly, throat painfully tight, “I do.”

Anvaere, at last, looked satisfied, and Moiraine decided not to let the opportunity presented to strike go to waste.

“Now,” she said firmly, leaning forward with clear intent, “about that redheaded boy at the inn,” she prompted and Anvaere raised an eyebrow slightly to indicate that, as hoped, she would permit Moiraine her first question, “how long has he been staying here in Cairhien?”

An hour later, Moiraine had what she needed, though she felt as though she’d been forced to let Anvaere flay her very soul until it was raw and bloody and exposed before her. Nothing she had asked had been dreadfully invasive, really, but that had not been the point. The act itself had been the price, and the punishment, of her earlier transgressions. As she moved from the room, she did so feeling hollow and empty. Like the old dollhouse, or the books untouched for years, or the dust that had lain thick upon the space, Moiraine was now but another old, unloved ghost, cold and despairing, and never able to find peace.

***

I'm friendly please feel free to yell thoughts/comments at me!! They fuel my angst and pain!!!!

[amyrlinegwene]

Thinking about how the wot show took everything from girls who are the youngest sister (Moiraine no longer being the youngest sister, Egwene’s older sisters being presumably erased so she’s an only child)

[eustasskiddsprosthetic]

Lads, it's been such a long time since I've returned to my roots—Lu/Law/Lu and I'm happy to say I have an idea! I've read a thread discussing dilf Luffy and it reminded me of my own Dilf!Lulaw fic I wrote some time ago. I'm OBSESSED with Dilf Luffy so follow me.

Law and Luffy are childhood friends. Law babysits Luffy when they were 13 and 6 respectively and they get along. Law would teach Luffy about the anatomy of various small animals, showing him how to dissect (or pretty much butcher) any type of animal they could find and Luffy would watch, quietly and thoroughly intrigued.

When Luffy was 10 years old, he thought the 17 year old Law was just the coolest guy ever, apart from Ace and Sabo. Law's tall, super smart and his deep voice (whenever it doesn't crack) is super nice.

Sure, he's stuffy and a nerd but if Luffy throws enough rocks at Law's window, Law's the best guy to prank people with! He has backup plans after backup plans to get them both out of trouble. He one-ups Luffy's ideas in a non-condescending way. He's also super pretty when he laughs...

When Law's 20, he tells Luffy that he's moving overseas on some sort of scholarship to Japan. Luffy had no idea what Japan was but Ace and Sabo tell him it's a pretty country with plenty of food. Luffy made Law promise to take him there some day, and Law agreed to, figuring why not.

Sabo also tells Luffy to get his contact information and Law agreed, giving Luffy his phone number and social media handles in case he wanted to text.

And text, Luffy did!

"HEY TRAFFY!! I MISS YOU!!!!! HOW'S ANIME JAPAN!!"

[insert image] "This is my new dorm."

"looks boring lul :P"

"Not allowed to decorate too much, unfortunately. However, I have a roommate soon."

"ROOMIE!! WHO WHO WHO"

"My partner. I'm seeing someone atm."

"atm? wots that Traffy 0_0"

"It means 'at the moment'."

"Oh."

For some reason Luffy felt kind of sad. Maybe it's one of those emo spurts as he's growing up but Traffy never dated when they hung out. Did Traffy not tell him anything? That's upsetting.

"Who is it!!! They btr be nice to u >:("

"Don't worry about that. They're very kind to me. I'm looking for a nice picture to show you."

And Traffy sent Luffy a picture of the guy. It's a tall, buff guy with reddish-brown hair and a scruffy chin. Luffy felt his chin and realised he had a little stubble.

Luffy said that the guy looked plain when Ace walked past and asked what's up. Deep down though, Luffy was annoyed that he's actually quite good looking and that he's way older.

"Is there something wrong, Luffy?"

"wot"

"I don't know. You're the first person I told this to... Sorry, I didn't know you're not supportive."

"Support what"

"I like men, Luffy. I'm gay."

"0-0" Luffy thought of how to respond. A couple friends told him something similar before but he seriously didn't care. "is fine lol"

"Really?"

"YUP !! NO WORRIES HAHAHAHAHA I DIDNGT KNOW YOU HAD A BOYFIE WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME!!"

"I didn't know how you'd react." And then Traffy was seen typing for a few minutes. "Thank you for not dismissing me."

"!!!!"

They text on and off more from there. Indeed, it felt like when they were kids where Luffy would share whatever's on his mind with Traffy and Traffy would reply politely. They talked about whatever, sometimes deep things, sometimes lighter things but it's usually always fun.

Sometimes, Traffy would talk about his relationship with Drake, as Luffy learned his name later and for some reason, that's Luffy's least favourite subject.

Traffy was neither happy nor unhappy. He talked about him the same way Traffy talked about the weather in anime, Japan. Heck, Law probably liked Ace and Sabo more and they don't even talk!

Luffy didn't have the words or courage to ask whether Traffy really loved Drake and so he never talked about it. As he got older, he couldn't accept that Law—the coolest, nicest, raddest guy ever—would marry some guy.

Law invited Luffy to the wedding ceremony but Luffy couldn't go, partly because he had exams and mostly because he just refused to. Ace and Sabo were surprised to hear that but they eventually understood why.

Whenever Luffy pulled up Law's wedding pictures on their social medias, he would only pinch his fingers on the screen to zoom in on Law's barely smiling, kind of sad face. He'd pout and ask what made Drake so special...

They talk on and off but life got in the way for them.

Law's busy with his hectic job as a surgeon. Law's trying to take more time off social media to be more offline. Law's going to therapy and journalling more. Of course there's his marriage.

Luffy's life's developing nicely too. Luffy's busy with all his friends and being present for them. He's his brother's biggest cheerleaders in their respective sports teams. He's also trying to study a little bit more to do well enough to make it in college.

And so they stop texting for a day. And then a month. And then a year. And then a decade rolls by easily. It's as if they never met.

...

And now, Luffy's 40 and he settled into a nice suburban area as a single-pringle. His house became less of a home and more of a gathering space.

Ace and Sabo drive over to have wild cookouts with their respective partners and kids. Zoro and Sanji come over to drink alcohol. Nami and Usopp for movie dates. Franky gave Luffy a sexy ice cream machine. Robin and Chopper would come over to bird watch in Luffy's backyard. Brook would host charity concerns in his front yard for the children and Luffy let Jimbe tutor kids in his living room.

Life hadn't felt so full in a while. Luffy smiled at his framed pictures and thought, "Wah... I've made it."

One day, he heard some people move into the vacant house next door. After all, how could he not hear them? They were arguing so fucking loudly.

"Shut up, nerd! I do what I want to do!"

"If you're as smart as you say you are you'd be more careful! Those drums are expensive! Be nice to them!"

"They ain't your drums, shit head!"

"But I'm responsible!"

And then Luffy heard something fall down and it made this horrible noise. Enough! He said. He put on a shirt and walked outside. There, he saw the culprit of all that noise.

It's some big man, a guy as big as Luffy with flaming red hair and a permanent scowl. He turned to Luffy and said, "What's your fucking problem? Can't a guy move into his fucking house?"

Luffy hated his attitude—what's his problem!

"I asked ya a fucking question, dipshit."

"I don't like you, you're a jerk!"

"Oh, is that-"

"Shut up, Eustass!" Both Luffy and the guy turned their heads to face the balcony.

And Luffy gasped.

On the balcony, stood a tall man who moved gracefully like an ice prince. He wore a loose Sora the Warrior tee shirt, tucked into light jeans. He had piercings on his ears. His jawline was sharp.

"You're annoying me, Eustass. Hurry up."

"Shut up!"

The not-Eustass-guy turned to face Luffy when he realised Luffy was staring. It started with an apologetic look and then he looked cold, annoyed. Why was Luffy staring so much and so intensely? The man squinted as if that would help him. He frowned and put his glasses on. The man blinked rapidly, in complete disbelief.

"I-" Luffy broke into a large grin when the other man's coldness morphed to surprise. Slowly, he warmed up and there's this warm look in his eye that took Luffy back to when he asked Traffy a question about the frog he was dissecting in the woods for Luffy's entertainment.

No way. Luffy shook his head. NO FUCKING WAY.

He made a little sign and Luffy knew what it meant even years later. It meant that he promised that he'd be back. He kept his promise. About twenty minutes later, Luffy heard a knock on the door. He never sprinted this fast in his life.

"Hi-" And Luffy enveloped the guy in the biggest bear hug he had ever given. He's just so fucking happy! And then Luffy pulled away to actually see him for himself. He was always handsome but since when was he smoking hot? Tall, thin-hipped and slightly muscular.

He looked up at Luffy and his sharp, annoyed eyes softened with tender affection. OH YES WAY!

"Hello, as I was saying. It's been a while."

"Hell yeah! How've you been, Traffy!" It's nice to even say his name again! He felt like a little kid again! Traffy smiled indulgently when Luffy slapped his back.

"I'm alright, thank you."

Luffy saw that Traffy was fiddling with his ring finger and said so. Traffy noticed it too and apologised for the habit.

"I'm going through a divorce now. Eustass, being nice for once, offered to let me stay with him and his partner while I figure out what I want to do with myself. It'll take time for my dad to get that carpet installed in his new house nearby so here I am now to kill time."

"D-divorce?"

"We fell out of love, let's put it bluntly," Law said, now distant. "I found out he's been cheating on me."

"Oh." Luffy suddenly felt like that dumb thirteen year old who didn't know how to handle Law coming out to him. "That sucks."

"Yes, it indeed 'sucks'. I was so shocked I didn't even cry about it for a week when I found out last year."

There was the awkwardness of feeling like one of them did something terribly wrong. Law smiled tersely.

"Enough about that, I'm keeping my hands full with idiots who claim that they want to 'help me out'." Law laughed gently. "Some classmates from Anime, Japan are coming to visit for a few days next week. I wonder how they're doing."

Luffy smiled. His heart ached.

"What do you want to do, Traffy?"`

"Me?" Law gave it thought. He glanced to the side. "Well, first things first, I have to help Eustass over there move in."

"After that?"

"After?" Law blinked. "I'm not sure. Probably brush up on my Japanese. Why?"

Bright-eyed and a little bit scared, Luffy said, "Let's go out!"

"Huh?"

"It'll be fun!" Luffy was totally winging it. "We can get beef bowl at Sanji's place! Do you like camping, Traffy? Ace and Sabo set up a really cool fire place out back—why don't we fire that up later! How about ice cream? Robin made cheese cake too! It's super yummy!"

Law started laughing so much tears came out. Luffy thought with some sadness that Law wasn't done crying about his divorce.

"You haven't changed at all!" Law said, smiling widely. Luffy felt proud of himself for that much. He didn't realise how much of a hole Traffy left behind in his heart when they stopped contacting each other.

Life doesn't give second chances but maybe, just maybe...

"It's really nice seeing you again, Luffy. I... I've missed you. It's been a bit lonely these few months, so let's catch up, i-if you want."

Maybe Luffy could finally show Traffy just how much he loved him...

[butterflydm]

this is random but i just remembered that ages ago i saw an ask game for asking fic writers their 5 favorites/ones they're most proud of of their own fics, and i would love to know yours if you're up for it! it would be so interesting to hear a Butterfly Career Retrospective haha

feel free to be flexible on the number and discuss as many or as few fics as you feel like, and to count a whole series as a single entry (like voice, although if you have any particular favorite installments or interludes within that that you'd like to note i'd be curious to hear that too!)

This took a while but I finally got it done, @markantonys!

I have written a lot of fics, so this was a difficult challenge. I am somewhat helped out by the fact that old fics tend to fade out of my memory… but then if I reread a bit of them, I tend to remember why I wrote them and what I loved about them. I did not limit myself to five fics (I tried!) but these are roughly in reverse chronological order of when I posted them.

not in the stars, but in ourselves - trying to bob and weave and make something that feels narratively satisfying out of the mess that is Mat Cauthon's late series arc has become something of a hobby of mine! This is fic is one of several where I narratively examine parts of the canon that didn't work so well for me and try to rearrange them into something that feels like it rings true for the previous characterization and choices.

This fic in particular really made me see how the roadblocks that existed in each of the character's main plotlines was so much easier to solve if they had access to the other main characters (and I suspect that's part of why Jordan kept them so unnaturally separated during these arcs).

I also really enjoy the romance in this fic, and how the characters interact with prophecy in more unexpected ways, and how Rand and Mat help each other through their traumas, and how each of the members of the polycule bring their own perspective to the relationship.

the caffrey exception in White Collar fandom - this fic languished mostly unfinished on my harddrive for a long time before polyweek gave me an excuse to finish it up and post it! I wasn’t really in White Collar fandom, was the problem, and I always write and post more consistently when I have fellow fandom people to encourage me. I also was originally watching WC with my (now ex-)girlfriend and I stopped watching after we broke up, iirc, so I didn’t actually finish the show until years later. And by the time I was writing it, I didn’t feel like there was all that much visible fandom around. But it had a nice little response during polyshipweek, so I was really happy with how it all turned out. Makes me think that one day maybe I’ll finish up and post that RENT fanfic that’s been on my harddrive for eighteen million years.

negotiating with the truth in The Wheel of Time fandom - you can tell I got fancy with this fic because I gave the chapters titles, lol. This fic leans hard into Mat being an unreliable narrator and playing around with that, and it was a lot of fun to focus on and explore that part of him. I do love a lot of the fics I've written in WoT so trying to narrow it down more was tough (and I still only managed to narrow down to three!) but I really loved writing this one and exploring the differing ways that Mat and Rand were approaching this relationship of theirs and how they come to a compromise in the end. I think I really liked that they genuinely do have different wants and desires that need to be navigated.

voice interlude: feels like falling for the first time in The Wheel of Time fandom - this is, a little bit, subbing in for the Voice series as a whole, but I wanted to pick out a complete story and not something still in progress. I am pretty hopeful that Voice will get finished (there are three more main fics in the series, I think — one that mostly spoils through bk9: winter’s heart; one that mostly spoils through bk12: the gathering storm; and then one with whole-series spoilers) but I have some fairly long unfinished works in past fandoms, so eggs and hatching & etc.

What makes this fic in particular stand out to me is how I was able to really take this one moment in time in the series and expand on it so that I could deep-dive into Mat’s characterization and what he was thinking and feeling, and it’s such a revelatory moment for Mat. I enjoy showing characterization via writing about sex, and the interludes in the Voice series really allow me to do that.

my mouth (your lips) my hands (your hips) in The Magicians fandom - This fic where Margo and Eliot approach Quentin on this more equal ground (of them competing to see which of them can land him first) and it developing into a true polyam relationship… I really loved exploring how messy but ultimately loving it was. I also loved delving into Margo as an aromantic character in this fic, and how the great love of her life is her best friend.

A lot of my own fears and pains and worries made it into the three main characters in this one, though all in ways that make sense with their own base characterization, I think. There’s this one line that Eliot thinks - “he had always been better at self-preservation than bravery” and that is 100% canon Eliot but… yeah, it’s also me. One of the things I am working on in therapy is loosening the stranglehold of my self-preservation so that I can be a little braver when it comes to reaching out to other people.

If you like my poly fics in WoT fandom, you might also enjoy my marqueliot fics (but I wouldn’t recommend the show tbh. Or, well, I might rec it up until the episode “All That Hard Glossy Armor”. That’s a good one to end on. And it’s a Margo episode!).

searching for a sound (we hadn’t heard before) in The Magicians fandom - I wrote some serious fix-it fics in this fandom. But this fic was me taking the kind of ridiculous angle on a plotline that I think that the show might have actually pulled off, if it had been so inclined. This fic was also me balling up all my frustration at the poor writing choices and lobbing it at the show’s forehead. It was very cathartic to write. And I think it’s pretty funny too, so that’s a bonus.

(I’m Not Calling You A) Liar for Steven Universe fandom — I am cheating here and including a vid. This vid is… if I sliced up my heart (Hannibal style) and laid it out on a plate, it would look something like this vid. I actually started watching Steven Universe because I saw the “Stronger Together” clip with Garnet but soon after I started watching… holy shit, Pearl and her deep heartbreak over Rose just grabbed me by the throat and did not let me go. Watching her slowly process and begin to resolve her grief was a very healing experience when I was watching the show. There was something very much intensely yearning about Pearl at the start of SU, and how she was trying so hard to hide it (from Steven but from the other gems as well). But she can’t move on until she confronts and heals!

My favorite of the vids that I’ve made, I think, and the one I’m proudest of. There is maybe one single clip that I would change now if I went back to edit it again, but that’s it. I’m fully satisfied with the rest of it; and this is not the case with most of my vids. My Yuri! On Ice vid is probably the other one that comes closest to feeling like I wouldn’t change anything now.

Enyo’s Daughter in MCU fandom — so I am a bit of an odd one out in MCU fandom, because the ship that I liked the best, over any other… Tony and Natasha. Iron Man and Black Widow. It’s a complex and thorny ship, but I liked exploring it. Tony and Natasha both get to be messy and fucked up and exploring situations like that can be interesting. It was written pretty soon after the first Avengers movie came out, if I recall correctly. I never did finish the sequel to this fic, which I am kinda sad about.

Any fandom where canon is currently developing can be kinda tough for me to stay ahead of, in terms of writing any big fic series(es) — this is also why my big Star Wars WIP is destined never to be finished, tbh. I started writing it before a lot of the current canon even exists, and trying to go back and finish it would be difficult because the new shows & movies have changed so much and it can be hard to mentally reconcile what I knew back then vs what I know now when it comes to canon. Once the new MCU movies after Avengers came out, this fic was kinda doomed to never get the sequel finished, alas. And this is why WoT having a closed book canon has made writing fic for it easier, I think.

Melt into Time from American Idol RPF — time-travel fic! I’ve attempted it from time to time, but this one I actually finished. I don’t remember the actual process of writing this anymore, because my memory is for crap, as I mentioned at the start, but it is probably my favorite fic that I wrote in this fandom overall. It deals with second chances and a lot of yearning and people being emotionally messy (a theme for me, for sure).

Justice, Be Not Blind from Dexter — my one and only Dexter fic. What I remember most about writing this fic is that despite how short it is (less than 1k), I did so much research. Miguel Prado was hands-down my favorite character who ever appeared on Dexter and so I wanted to write a fic for him, but I wanted it to sound as true to his character voice as possible. I don’t even really remember the extent of the research that I did and it’s been so long that I couldn’t tell you anymore whether or not the character voice is accurate, but I remember how much I wanted to get this right and how much work I put into trying to get Miguel to feel genuine.

Travelers Without Map or Compass for Doctor Who fandom - cute romantic fluff, but I’m very fond of it. It captures a sort of vibe in the Doctor & Rose relationship that was very appealing to me, and I enjoyed exploring and expanding my thoughts on some of the rooms in the TARDIS.

Another Nameless Planet in the Star Wars (Prequel) fandom — I wrote longer fics in Star Wars fandom but honestly I think I captured Anakin best in this small fic that’s not really about anything in particular except Anakin wanting to be treated as an equal (by Obi-Wan specifically).

I have fics that I wrote before this point, but most of them I genuinely don’t remember writing to the point of going, “huh, oh, wow, I guess that was me, huh?” lol. But going back over my fics… man, it really is like having the deepest yearnings of your heart spread out in front of the world sometimes, isn’t it?

Thanks for sending me on this journey to the past! I hope you enjoyed it. <3

[asexual-spongebob]

merry Xmas everyone!!! :)

here’s a fic I wrote !! It’s the wots Christmas special teehee :D

[apprenticestanheight]

hi!! i have a request :) would it be okay if you wrote a specs x transmasc reader where the reader gets specs to help him with a testosterone shot?? its totally okay if no tho!! have a good day :)

T - specs x transmasc! reader

hi nonnie!! I'm sorry this took a while--this one has been sitting in my drafts for a good few weeks now and I've had it written for just as long. My object permanence is the absolute fuckin' worst, however, and I, admittedly, forgot to edit this before today because of getting distracted by other projects and also getting so anxious I physically could not will myself to get out of bed multiple days in a row since you sent this one into my inbox.

HOWEVER, I did get my shit together today (started on medication for adhd because I told my dr I thought I had it and we're testing it out to see if it works for me to help with those symptoms + anxiety management wot wot) and so, here this is!! I am, once again, sorry for the delay, and I promise if you send another request in I will do my best to do it that week.

fic type - this is fluffy!!

warnings - there are mentions of needles in this

In the five years since you'd come out and the five and a half since you and Specs had started dating, you'd only asked him to help you with your weekly testosterone shot maybe twice in the three and a half years since you'd finally gotten through all of the necessary hoops and had been able to start taking it.

Normally, you could do it yourself without a hitch, sometimes a little squeamish at the sight of the needle, but that Friday you'd asked him to help because he did it a bit quicker than you did--even if by just a solid second or two--while the two of you were on a time crunch in a rush to meet Elise and Tucker. Also, somewhat, as a way to squeeze a bit more time with him out of your day because you had to work an eight hour shift from 3-11, and when you got home he'd either be reading a comic while half asleep or asleep on your side of the bed in your absence.

He agrees to your ask without questioning it, getting the shot ready while you talk to him about how work has been because you've worked a string of evening shifts for the past three weeks and have been too drained to talk about it the next day. He happily listens, occasionally commenting where it's appropriate to make a remark or agree with an opinion you hold about a coworker, though he also acknowledges that he only has your bias to base an opinion on and not his own.

"Thank you for this, by the way," you murmur as you're standing up to pull your pants down to your thighs. "I know I could've done it myself, but I've missed you a lot lately and wanted to squeeze in an extra few minutes."

That remark brings out a soft smile from Specs, given to you as you're sitting back down. A second later, you can see the debate as to whether or not he wants to give you a forehead kiss occur in his expressions before he pauses, presses a quick but somewhat lingering kiss to your forehead, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek.

"I've missed you too, for what it's worth," Specs says. "Elise has kept us busy with her clients and Tucker and I have kept ourselves busy with Spectral Sightings stuff, but we've not seen much of each other lately and it's been hard."

You've missed him so terribly that it hurts, and there have been multiple points in the lulls of your evening shifts wherein you've been tempted to just pick up the phone and call him. You haven't for fear of being judged and seeming co-dependent, but you're at a point where you don't care how co-dependent it makes you seem. You're allowed to miss him when you're working evenings and don't get much of a chance to see him except for in your easier mornings.

You're nodding your agreement with his sentiments as he finishes getting your shot ready. You watch the needle go in, unblinking and relatively unphased, grabbing a "fun" Band-Aid--one shaped like a ghost, one of many from a Band-Aid kit gifted to you by Tucker for your birthday that year--to place over it as the slight pain from the injection settles and the needle is removed.

You pull your pants back up and rake your hands through your hair as Specs discards the needle properly, ever the one to be cautious about how your injection needles are handled, and you're thanking him as you put your testosterone away as it's meant to be stored.

He does a bit of idle cleaning while you finish getting ready, and you wind up stealing one of his button downs to wear over a black shirt. You kiss his cheekbone as he tosses you your keys, and the two of you leave your shared house hand in hand, so full of contentment that you already know how happy you seem is bound to make Tucker fake a gag while he smiles.

[blacktofade]

Fic: Make a Move

GeminiTay/ImpulseSV/Skizzleman, NC-17, ~11.5k, RPF

Gem flies to Arizona to spend a vacation with Impulse and Skizzleman.

-

“Jeez, Imp,” Gem says, turning a full circle as she looks around. “When you said I could stay, I figured I’d get the spare room, not this.”

Impulse shrugs, because it’s not that big of a deal. “We remodeled it for my office and the in-laws, but it works great for any guests.”

“This is a whole separate house,” Gem insists, as though maybe he doesn’t realize and Impulse laughs.

“Figured you’d prefer this to staying down the hall from an old man who snores.”

Gem shrugs, one corner of her mouth twitching. “I put up with you next door in Michigan.”

Impulse laughs again, touching his forehead before smoothing his palm over his hair. “Did you actually hear me?”

“No,” Gem snorts. “Pretty sure it was Skizz.”

[Read more]

[sixth-light]

Fic meme

List five of your least-popular fics, as well as when/why you wrote them (tagged by @themardia)

a beginning (TOG/WoT, Andy & Nile, gen) - If I recall correctly this was in response to a 'cross your newest and oldest fandom' challenge, and well before WoT crashed back into my life with the TV show in late 2021! I've got a whole lot more worldbuilding for this tucked away in the back of my head somewhere...

The Waiting Game (RoL, Peter/Beverley, Peter & Thomas) - it's tagged 'ask box fic' and I think I would have written it as part of a whole lot of post-Hanging Tree prompts, but the years have eroded my memory of who prompted me and what exactly they prompted me.

they choose to take you in (Court of Fives, Bettany & OC) - a Yuletide fic for a very small book fandom which features the clash of a matriarchal and a patriarchal culture; I was obsessed with the idea of a longed-for male heir (still in utero at the end of the series) being...whoops, not that.

The Sight of Other Skies (Eternal Skies trilogy, Samarkar & Tsareg Edene) - another Yuletide fic for a book fandom, ft. female friendship, but mostly an excuse to roll around in the series worldbuilding.

The Retirement of Gabriel Argent (Daniel Blackland series, Gabriel/Max) - I am extremely proud that I wrote the first fic on AO3 for this very tiny fandom. It was the unusual-for-me case of finishing a book trilogy and being absolutely unable to move on without getting this post-canon idea out of my head.

Tagging: @emjee, @raedear, @darlingofdots, @highladyluck, @butterflydm, and anybody else who feels like doing this!

[markantonys]

relationship: mat/rand/elayne/aviendha rating: T length: 9.7k, complete summary: Rand made a tearful little noise and drew his knees up into his chest, burying his face in them. “Two soulmates. And neither of them is Egwene,” he said. “What am I going to do?”

Mat was reaching to pat him on the back, and his hand froze when he caught sight of the very edge of a black letter, almost completely hidden by the curls at the nape of his neck; he was in need of a haircut. Mat seized a fistful of hair and pushed it out of the way, making Rand yelp. “What are you doing?”

“Blood and ashes, Rand,” Mat said in amazement. “You have three.”

Written for Polyship Week 2023, day 4. Prompt: soulmates

[foxyanon]

Twenty Questions For Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @whitedarkmoonflower, this is certainly an interesting questionnaire

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

I have 7! I cross post all my works.

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

28,748 as of right now

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Since I do crossovers, this is all the fandoms I’ve written about SO FAR: The Last Kingdom, Wheel Of Time, A Song Of Ice And Fire (and associated fandoms), Skyrim, Dragon Age

4. top five fics by kudos

Only four of my fics on AO3 have kudos but in order they are

-Convincingly Human

-To End A War

-The Vampiress And The Dane

-To Love A Dragon

5. do you respond to comments?

I love comments on my fics and always try to respond to them!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Surprise, surprise I have not actually written a super angst fic! I prefer happy endings, but I guess Eve could be considered a less than savory ending 🤔

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most everything I’ve written so far has a happy or at least satisfying ending.

8. do you get hate on fics?

I have not, thankfully

9. do you write smut?

Ehh, sorta? I haven’t written anything crazy explicit, but I am trying to expand my writing horizons

10. craziest crossover?

Crossovers are my specialty! I don’t think it’s crazy but my ASOIAF x TLK crossover could be seen as that, or my WOT x Skyrim

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I’m aware

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really? I’m working on a collab with my moot @sihtricfedaraaahvicius, but we each write our own parts and just share notes. I don’t know if I’ll ever cowrite with someone as I’m super particular about how I want a story to be told

14. all time favorite ship?

While I don’t write for ships that aren’t for my OCs, I’m a sucker for Robb x Dany. Truly they would’ve been a power couple

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I aim to finish every work I start, but the one WIP that is on hiatus right now is To End A War. I’m not sure when I’ll pick it up again

16. what are your writing strengths?

The ability to set a scene in a few sentences, getting a story to flow seamlessly when combining two different worlds

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue, smut

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I love it! Since I have a Targ!OC, there will be some High Valyrian spoken in her fics. If I ever write another Skyrim fic, I’ll include some Dovazhul!

19. first fandom you wrote in?

The Last Kingdom, it was The Vampiress And The Dane

20. favorite fic you've written?

As of right now, probably To Love A Dragon or Convincingly Human because they both include dragons (my very niche interest) and they are my special fics. I’m super attached to Rhaenerys as an OC and dragon shifter!reader has a special place in my heart.

No pressure tags: @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose @asa-do-your-thing @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @gemini-mama

@alexagirlie @lord-aldhelm @thenameswinter99 @lady-phasma

[epaily]

good omens thread while i rewatch season 1 because i was slacking and also had no wifi for 4 days

bro the grip this show had on me when i was 15 was crazy you dont understand

the earth is a libra and her birthday is october 10th how could i forget

I GAVE IT AWAY you WOT this is the momeny crowley fell in love

the WING IN THE RAIN

god this intro feels like coming home

imma keep it a buck fifty i never could never follow the card trick baby swap

all the queen makes me so happy. i could appreciate it then. the various queen merch i have scattered around my room now says otherwise

"call aziraphale" "all the phone lines are currently busy" "grr" is a classic god i love this idiot

why does he walk like that. kinda gay.

why does he eat like that. kinda gay.

why do they sit like that. kinda gay.

god i fucking hate gabriel. cant wait for my whole opinion of him to change

"little temptation i ask you to cover for me" i forgot this was a thing they did god i fucking love them. i cant tell you how much i love them

the grip they have on me is insane you dont fucking understand

i was 15 and had just suffered a breakup (my first major one) and i thought i would never see the sun again and there they were. and then i made art and i wrote fanfic and i consumed THOUSANDS of fics and art and i talked and dressed like crowley and i was so depressed and i was lonely and to fight it i watched good omens no less then once a week for that whole summer. it changed my life

gods the dolphins conversation is so dumb i love them bubububub

i love them so fucking much

[thatordinaryoddity]

20 questions about writing 2.0

Thank you for tagging me, @trollocks-in-my-bollocks and @lavendelhummel! This is a fun question thingy. Lucky for me, I’ve got an hour to kill, so now I can pretend I’m being productive.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Ten.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

187,868!

Didn’t realize I’ve been pounding the keyboard that much, especially since I used to swear I’m not much of a writer :D To be fair, that was true… until it wasn’t.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Nine out of my ten fics are Wheel of Time and more specifially, Siuaraine (surprise, surprise), but my first “serious” fic was for The Haunting of Bly Manor. Back when I was a teen, though, I wrote loads of bad fic for a German soap opera. It was horrendous, but we all need to start somewhere.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Crown On My Head - where there is no dragon and Siuan meets Moiraine’s royal family in Cairhien. Everything goes according to plan (it absolutely doesn’t). It’s fluff with a side of angst and some fanart for dessert.

Gold And Blue - my current WIP which is a wild west AU/crossover with RDR2 (don’t judge me, ok). Siuan is an outlaw, Moiraine is a huntress (or is she?), and it’s slow burn. We’re now finally reaching the fluff, and there’s probably fanart coming… when I find the time.

A Flower In The Ashes - another AU/crossover, this time with Fallout. Siuan is a survivor in the wasteland (and she has a robot buddy!) while Moiraine escapes her life in a vault to avoid becoming Overseer. Equal part angst and fluff I’d say.

Shards - my first longfic for WoT, written in 2022 after season one. It’s pure angst. Moiraine is very sad, and I was very tired. Writing this fic nearly burnt me out completely. I genuinely thought I’d never write again after this one, but thankfully, I clawed my way back and are more motivated than ever!

Once In A Blue Goddamn Moon - the Bly Manor one. It’s about Jamie’s life without Dani and her journey to finally find peace (literally). Mostly hurt/comfort with a pinch of fluff and a happy ending - kinda?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely! I usually respond a few days after receiving them, but I love comments (don’t we all?). There’s nothing better than readers sharing their thoughts on plotlines or characters - it’s pure fuel for my writer’s soul. If someone takes the time to leave a comment, I’m genuinely grateful, and it feels natural to take the time to respond thoughtfully.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

If we’re talking finished fics, it’s Shards. It doesn’t have a bad bad ending, though, but the whole story is heavy and deals with tough plotlines. If we include WIPs, my current project is going to have the worst ending. But it’s a “choose your own adventure”, so you can always pick the happier path.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Definitely The Crown On My Head. I stuffed it with as much fluff as I could manage because honestly, the fishwives deserve it - and so do we.

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Not really. Years ago, someone pointed out that I used an awkward word to describe a character. It wasn’t hateful, more like constructive feedback, and it actually pushed me to get better. So… not real hate, just a learning moment.

9. Do you write smut?

:3 Oh yes I do! I love writing smut, it’s genuinely so much fun. There’s hardly a longfic I’ve written without detailed smut scenes. I try to keep it fresh, explore new dynamics or kinks, but try to stay true to the characters. That being said, I don’t like to write smut without plot so you’ll have to earn The Sex by suffering through my plot first (or just use the tags to see which chapters are smutty, hehe).

10. Do you write crossovers?

Again - oh yes! Crossovers/AUs/fandom fusions are my happy place. I take World A, shove World B’s characters into it, and just see what happens. These always start as self-indulgent crackfics, but apparently, other people like being dragged into my chaos. I’m not complaining.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes and I feel very honored! One of my lovely readers asked to translate The Crown On My Head into Spanish and post it on Wattpad. So if you’re a Spanish speaker and want to check it out - La Corona En Mi Cabeza.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not exactly, but I once collaborated with @woodytwig. She wrote, I drew. Not quite co-writing, but still fun!

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Siuan x Moiraine!

Siuan x Moiraine!

Siuan x Moiraine!

They’ve been my OTP for four years now and nothing or no one can change that. If the show messes them up, I’ll simply retreat to my silly little crossovers and AUs. However, I do have another (non-WoT) ship that’s… uh, let’s just say it’s embarrassing. It involves enemies who would realistically kill each other on sight, but some genius wrote a 300k-word slow burn that made it work. No, I will not elaborate.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

I started a Siuaraine drabble series and still owe @mandyviv57 a fic about a karaoke night to Time After Time. I haven’t forgotten! One day, I swear.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Apparently, my smut is hot (thank you, kind commenters). People also say my descriptions make them feel like they’re watching a movie, which makes sense because vivid scenes and descriptions are a must for me as a reader, so I make sure to weave them into my own work.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Big emotional payoffs. Ugh. If I’ve been building tension over multiple chapters, I tend to overthink everything. I’ll procrastinate for ages trying to make it perfect. The stress is real.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I like it! In my current WIP, Moiraine speaks a second language, and it’s great for adding depth to her character (and for teasing Siuan when she refuses to translate, hehe).

19. First fandom you wrote for?

That German soap opera - it’s called Hand aufs Herz. I wrote for it back in 2010, and let me tell you, my baby gay self was not okay. Reading that old stuff now feels like a personal roast session.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

For finished fics, it’s a tie between The Crown On My Head and Pine Needles in My Drink (a Yellowjackets crossover one-shot that didn’t make the top 5 but was much fun to write).

I’m tagging @woodytwig, @witchingshcdows, @eve-is-obsessed, @romanimp and everybody who wants to join - if you feel like it, obviously <3

[lavendelhummel]

20 Questions about writing 2.0

One year ago @lilolilyr tagged me in this ask game and I answered it. I thought it might be fun to take the questions again and see what has changed and what hasn’t (probably most of it), since this past year I have actually interacted with fandom and not just been shy in my corner. Here is what I said last year (it was a year and a week ago, okay, but this last week was interesting because I had something huge that kept me from writing the past few months happen the week before and I am now trying to recover and wrap my head about the fact that my life changed quite drastically), let’s see what I’m saying now:

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

16 ;) quite a few more than last years 7, but most of the new ones are one-shots, only one finished multichapter and one multichaptered WIP (Jump).

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

209,412 words. Last year it was 125k and seeing as there are quite a few WIPs waiting in my folders for a while I thought I’d actually end up writing 100k words of fic this year, but seeing as I moved 4 times during that time and kind of finished a degree (hi I am a doctor now, someone remind me to delete this, I don’t want to doxx myself but need to repeat it so I can actually believe it), I think it’s kind of okay to only have written what I have and I am a it vexed that I did let this self-set number stress me in addition to the pretty big stress I had anyway. I think I wrote some nice things and certainly developed as a writer! (As well as as a… ah best not say it twice in one paragraph)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Last year I said Moiraine and Siuan from The Wheel of time here, which I wrote less for this past year but I’d still count, I have 1 1/2 wips for them and updated one of my fics in that fandom last spring. I also have one fic in the WoT verse with different characters (exciting)! I also said that I once wrote for I Care A Lot, and well, it’s still true that that was my entry to posting fic, but also I’m not going back (nope, not happening). This past year I wrote mostly Bering and Wells from Warehouse 13! That was great fun! I am also playing with a few ideas for Star Trek: deep space 9 at the moment, but haven’t yet written anything. 

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

 The first three are the same as last year (the I care a lot - one shot collection, Siuaraine medical school AU, other AU for them). The other two are the the first door for last years B&W advent calendar (coolest project ever, see below), and my coolest fic: mermaid B&W AU (only Helena is a mermaid. She arrives in Myka’s apartment above her bookstore via her old-new washing machine from Pete’s laundromat. Bathtubes are not very comfortable to live in.)

I should add that neither of these two has many kudos, none of my fics apart from hat ical one has, which shows that it’s extremely fandom dependent because that one is by far worse than my newer ones - just in a fandom with very little fic. 

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

YES! Why?! Because I like talking to people! And getting a comment is the best so I want to tell people that they are the best! Also I like talking and talking and try to make me shut up, it’s harder than you think! (Last year I had a screenshot for the weirdest comment I ever got here, from a guest who named themself „weird ass“ and said nothing but „tea snob“, I still don’t know if they meant me or Moiraine, so I asked them. So yeah I reply. Even to the weird asses)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Most of what I write has a happy ending, yeah I am boring like that. But for Laundry Day, afore mentioned Mermaid AU, I left two possible endings, one in which Helena learns to live with what she’s lost, but it is clear that there is grief, that she is still a fish out of water and that while they make it work, it is not easy going. And then, because I wanted to wrap the mystery fantasy part up and needed the satisfaction of bundling up all loose threads I added an epilogue, a sugary, ‚happiest ending of them all’ epilogue… so yeah. Other than that I only have the one I mentioned last year about Helena dealing with her grief by reading Jacques Prévert’s poetry, which also ends on a soothing note but, I mean it’s Helena, and it’s Prévert. Let’s be honest, we all know why I absolutely adore Prévert, oh god, make me shut up now before I start (do you want to know which cool rare books of his I found?)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Well. Happ*iest*. I did just mention that the epilogue of Laundry Day is the happiest ending of them all, right? I also think Pretty Picture has a pretty fluffy cozy ending (winter, go read it now ;)) ending. Flower crowns is just pure fluff, so that doesn’t count as *ending*, it’s just happy in its entirety. 

The medical school AU: would have been nice to get them all the way through it so they could celebrate at the end right? Though I had plans to make it go on after the ending of uni so Lan could come in and after a time jump the ef5 as well, so not the actual ending but a *moment*. Anyway that didn’t work out, and the ending they have is very nice and rather happy as well. Think about it, that is a much happier ending than I am feeling having actually finished medical school now (but let’s not talk about my inability to celebrate myself, nor my exhaustion). 

8. Do you get hate on fic?

I did already mention "weird ass", right? Yeah also mentioned last year how the very first comment I got was pretty discouraging. But I wouldn’t call it hate, no. I mostly get very, very, little reaction to my fics anyway, so missing the positive kind but not the negative kind. 

9. Do you write smut?

No. Not because I don’t like reading it, but because I am incapable of it. Sad, but it is what it is. I did get closer than ever, in Fly Me To The Moon! Everyone gasping, yes scandalous look how close I am alluding to it!!! But yeah, still nothing happening, if anyone ever wants to pick up where I left off, feel free, that’d be fun! (I also have a few other fade to black scenes, but this is *different*… kinkier? in a not on page happing way?) 

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nope, also don’t read them. It’s simply something that doesn’t interest me. 

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No. Or at least, not as far as I know. 

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. My fics are not very well known, so someone wanting to base a work on it/translate would be surprising. 

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! One with @lilolilyr , which was super cool, but mostly we did the advent calendar last year!!!! That was super duper duper duper fun! Seriously guys, I enjoyed it so much and wish it had worked out again (I did have a cool idea for it, as I laid out on discord, but in the end it was simply not possible for me to do anything writing/fandom related (or basically anything but survive) in November and even now in December I do not know yet if I’ll be able to. Depends on how well this resting thing I’m trying out works, because at the moment my brain is still fried. Even writing this is giving me a headache right *sad emoji*)

But yes, writing that together was amazing.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I’ll just name the same ones, Moiraine/Siuan, Myka/Helena and recently I’ve come to like Kiradax, but that’s obviously not all-time material yet, since, well 'recently'. 

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

Hmm, I do hope (and think!) I’ll finish all those that I once worked on seriously. Wait, the Helena reads Astrid Lindgren one, I’m not sure… There is also one super short Siuaine one, but that was never serious. 

Hm, maybe I also won’t make the Nyneave&Semirhage one??! I do hope so, but it is a bit out of my league… HMMM

Mostly there are some fun ideas that I thought I’d write, a lot actually, but what I seriously wanted to do was Siuraine Mermaid AU, and B&W MRI AU, and I don’t think they’ll happen, alongside a few others. But that’s life! 

Last year I mentioned the Uni-AU here, and I do consider that one finished now, not as I envisioned originally but it has an ending that makes sense and is an ending and I probably won’t write more (never say never). 

16. What are your writing strengths?

Urghh that question. Someone important (professionally, not personally to me) said „Why not simply believe in yourself?“ To me the other day. Well I couldn’t very well tell him about my incessant selfdoubt across a conference table with 3 other very important, and three somewhat less important people, watching, could I? So I will try this again and also try to say something else here than last year. 

…

@rinari7 said my dialogue feels alive! I think I am also able to get into the heads of people and write thought-strands pretty realistically. 

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I think those thought-strands sometimes can get too much, and I loose myself in them. In general my sentences are way too long, for that I blame Cicero, who was a very forming influence to twelve year old wannabe-writer me. 

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

 Haha. Yeah. Yeah. It’s good. We are talking other language than English right? I love making my characters speak French. I also love adding German puns. It’s what’s happening in my head! I’ve been thinking disturbingly much in English last year, but at the core that’s it, my brain is wired in Frallemand (Freutsch just doesn’t work, we all agree, right?) and I cut most of it out because I want other people to be able to read it but, speaking multiple languages is very normal for me. I have friends with whom I speak certain languages and others others, and who have yet others with each other. I am rather limited with only my three fluent ones, but only one? Yeah, no, that’s very unnatural to me. So I won’t overuse it in fic for the sake of readability but I do appreciate it when it comes my way.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

As I said I care a lot. You will notice that it was my first right away and… don’t maybe. I have nicer newer ones. 

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Ouhhhhh. Pretty picture? One of my most recent ones, so maybe I’m biased. 

Laundry day!!! Yes, that was incredible fun! 

I also want to mention the Prévert fic (The earth that spins and spins and spins) again because I still like it and not a lot of people did. 

And I also have a Siuaraine Mermaid fic and it’s fun and weird and thus my fav for that fandom (not even AU, somehow?!)  

I am just gonna go ahead and tag people even though I took this ask game out of its original setting: @lilolilyr if you want to reflect on the past year as well, @trollocks-in-my-bollocks @lakeofsilverpike @purlturtle @cozcat @onaperduamedee @anandabrat @thatordinaryoddity maybe you have fun with this, if not there obviously is no pressure to do it!