#fic: what we'll find

[hirazuki]

Maedhros and Mairon + 49

…out of necessity | Maedhros & Mairon

•────────────────────⋅☾ ☽⋅────────────────────•

Aman, somewhere in the north. Fourth Age.

"And you are absolutely certain I cannot persuade you to come?" Maedhros asks, only half in jest, over the rim of his near-depleted glass.

Mairon tucks away the warm bloom of pleasure he feels at the Elf's clear approval of the vintage -- made from fruit harvested just over the hill; he has been experimenting, in the hope of finally discovering a drink to his own liking -- and casts a withering glare at him instead, of the kind that once flayed servants and kings alike and stayed dragons in their tracks.

His visitor, true to form, remains entirely unaffected.

The Maia clicks his tongue and runs a subtly-clawed hand through a strand of hair that has fallen over his eyes, examining its ends before flicking it back.

"No, thank you," he declines, feigned sweetness and a hint of fang slipping in, in reminiscence of bygone days. "I have no desire to mire myself in the politics of Valinor and Tirion and Tol Eressëa and whatever new settlement the latest group of reembodied discontents has elected to erect."

Maedhros chuckles into his glass, with sympathy and, likely, no small amount of envy -- he does not possess the luxury of choice in this matter -- before he drains it.

To say receiving him had been a surprise -- wine-dark elegance walking down the garden path to his doorstep, his Fëanorian finery a far cry from the remembered bronze and battered steel; hair, once and forever, a bloodstain in the sun -- would be to say the Grinding Ice was cold.

Awkwardness and cautious circling had gradually given way to unspun talk of things both great and small, held over sectioned wooden plates and light-colored tea in patterned cups; Mairon eagerly lapping up every scrap of information offered, starving mind ever at odds with his self-imposed isolation in the wilderness of Aman's empty north. He'd come here in pursuit of peace -- to remove himself from the noise and the tangle, the unbearableness of eternity's everyday; and the price for soothing his spirit was boredom. There was a line between too much quiet and not enough, and it was as gossamer stretched between the trees.

Neither had the irony been lost on him: he who, once, had stood on sheer precipices, feeding news of the world below to hungry ears upon its peaks. An unthinkable case of turned tables.

The paltry heat of the day -- a ghost of the burning summers across the sea -- had eventually faded into bland evening, with a suggestion of night-flowers in the air too timid to be truly called a scent. They had barely noticed, until firelight hair started shining brighter against the window panes.

Mairon has enjoyed this far more than he would have anticipated; certainly more than he will ever admit. He supposes he should not be surprised at it -- he has been alone since coming here, after all, and Maedhros has always proved to be intriguing, intelligent company, even in throes of imprisonment; even in torture.

Fëanor's eldest stands, apology on his lips. "I should be returning; it is some way to Formenos, and there are those among my family with a predilection for hasty conclusions; regardless of however little actual information they possess." His face does something complicated, that echoes the tightness the Maia feels in his chest. "I did not think I would stay so late."

Mairon pauses, halfway to standing himself. "You did not tell anyone where you were going?"

"Should I have?"

The former Lieutenant of Angband -- Gorthaur; Sauron; the Second Dark Lord and erstwhile Lord of Mordor -- stares at him, blankly.

Maedhros laughs, and it is the same mirthless, rueful laugh he remembers from a different land under a different sky, if somewhat filed down around the edges by time spent in silver vapors and vast caverns that trail below the seas.

"And what designs do you have on me, here in Aman?" the Elf asks him, with a manner that is heedless of the eggshells others have strewn all about him since his return to the West, and it feels like the fire coursing through his veins when he runs after being confined for too long. "What have you ever done towards me, in person, other than argue yourself hoarse to have me unhung?"

Oh. He'd noticed. His one-time prisoner had noticed, somehow, through the haze of blood and pain and stinging northern winds. Mairon is not certain how he feels about that.

"I dislike waste," is the response he settles on; it is not a lie. "And you forget too easily."

"I have not forgotten anything," Maedhros assures him, and holds up his left hand to look at the yawning black that graces its reincarnated palm. "I simply think I am no longer in a position to cast stones."

Mairon looks at it, too.

He thinks of Celebrimbor, of how he has heard that his shirts are always sleeved to the wrist and he avoids eating with knives, and of Maeglin, and how he shirks high places, and of the blistered skin still stamped around his own throat, a collar fashioned of previous flesh and soul-carved fear that hounds him in every form.

Is it the same for a Vala? he wonders, suddenly; does Melkor also wear the wounds of an old life? He has not seen him, yet, though Nienna has reached out.

"I have not been for a long time." Maedhros' voice is a half-whisper, but it draws him out from where he has fallen into his own head, before he can sink in deeper to drown in the sirenic call of afterthoughts long dead.

He watches him take out a glove from a pocket in his cloak and, using his teeth, pull it over his hand.

"You keep it hidden?"

The question is intrusive, insensitive, and wholly involuntary -- Maedhros has not shown any indication that the burn of the Silmaril bothers him, and the care with which he covers it now strikes the Maia with the suddenness of hammer upon anvil.

"I grew tired of both pity and censure," comes the answer -- raw in honesty and distressingly intimate, it devastates like Song.

And yet, Fëanor's firstborn leaves his right wrist bare for all to see. Perhaps it is because the injury is older, Mairon thinks; or, perhaps, it is that some scars are more private than others.

He catches Maedhros smiling at him, and at the hand he did not realize he has raised to cradle his own neck.

The Elf says nothing, and turns to make his way to the front door.

Mairon follows; it is only proper to walk him out.

He is about to bid him goodnight on the threshold, in the fashion of old Beleriand, when Maedhros leans forward and places a quick touch of his lips on him, once on each cheek.

Mairon stills, for the span between seconds, before flinching back. "What are you doing?"

"Satisfying the demands of Noldorin etiquette," Maedhros replies, brow slightly creasing under the plain band of burnished copper that goes around his head. "I should have thought you familiar with all our customs."

Mairon retreats within his mind and quickly flips through the tome of his life labeled 'Eregion' -- still within easy reach, though riddled with dust and disuse.

There is nothing there.

Curious; but, it is possible the Elves of Ost-in-Edhil -- Tyelpë, in particular -- had kept more of a distance from him than he'd been led to believe. Despite the long winters and the late nights and the celebrations, there had always been a boundary between Elf and Maia: too insubstantial to ever be commented on, just solid enough to be vexing. That, or they had left some traditions behind when they had crossed over the mountains, alongside everyone else, in the wake of rising water and incalculable loss.

None of that is pertinent, however, at the moment. What matters is his old counterpart standing before him, the lingering trace of foreign warmth on his face, and his ever-burning need to know.

"And what does it signify?"

"It means," Maedhros begins, speaking words that Mairon could not have imagined existed on the other side of howling cliffs and deep fire and wretched hallowed light, "that it is good to see you again."

[shepherds-of-haven]

wish it was cool and acceptable to write fanfiction of your own work, especially before the original work is actually done 😂

[inhuman-obey-me]

Barbatos and 8 because chaos 😈😈😈 (you guys are my favs congrats of 100k!!!!!)

Barbatos + 8: "Dead Walk" - Redhook

Rewriting the past means living without consequences. What freedom, for a demon to exist this way.

"Did you do something you need to atone for?"

Barbatos chuckles regretfully across the table at you.

"Indeed. Something I can never hope to undo."

He begins to reach over the table as if to take your hand, but he pauses just before his fingers can touch yours and withdraws, seemingly thinking better of it.

"A long time ago, before I came to serve the Young Master, I used to travel through the realms freely. Sometimes even through space and time. I never thought to think twice about the feelings of others I met along the way…nor in how my actions may or may not affect them."

Yes, his life back then — a life without consequences, or so he'd thought. Pop a portal here, twist a timeline there, and it was as though he'd never been there at all. Back then, it was nothing more to him than a trivial use of his power, and who was anyone to tell such a powerful demon not to do as he liked?

Well, you, for one. That's always been something charmingly strange about you — your willingness to throw yourself in harm's way and assert your opinion of how those as powerful as those demon brothers should act, even before you had made your pacts with them.

You tilt your head questioningly at him, waiting for him to continue, and he pulls back to himself, putting on a simple smile to reassure you.

"It was that mindset that led to me making a terrible mistake. One that…ended up having a great effect on the lives of Solomon and the Young Master."

He goes quiet again, remembering the moment he'd realized what he'd done — the desperate tremble in the young prince's voice, the lonely tears in his little eyes as he begged his one rare visitor to stay with him at the castle. He'd been too young to understand that Barbatos himself was the reason he lived that way.

If he were to find out now, of course, Barbatos fears how things would change. Diavolo is too just to allow Barbatos to assign himself this penitence forever, even if he did genuinely take joy in keeping himself by the royal's side. He didn't mind never using his powers without explicit instruction from his master; it had been his own suggestion. And was it so bad to chain himself, really, if he'd placed the shackles upon himself?

He'd tasted enough freedom to come to regret it.

"What kind of effect?" you prod, pulling him back to the present again with a tug on his hands, which he'd apparently placed over yours after all while lost in his thoughts.

He frowns and sits back abruptly. "I am not able to tell you the details of that yet," he snaps, immediately regretting how harsh the words come out. He tries again, more gently, "Forgive me for bringing it up. I didn't mean for the conversation to turn this way. It's rare for me to start talking about myself."

After all, it wouldn't do for the past to come back to haunt him. He'd gotten by this long without his secrets coming out; he didn't intend to start revealing them now.

But then, why had he confessed to you even this much?

"Perhaps a part of me just wanted you to understand a little more about myself."

You blush a little bit, bringing another careful smile to his face.

A part of him — just a small part, one he's suppressed for centuries now — thinks of how nice it would be to affect your feelings, your life. To leave some impression of his existence upon you.

Why else would he want you to understand him?

He feels the temptation to tell you on his tongue, in his teeth.

But, no. He'd decided to bury that old self — nailed the coffin shut on it, and wouldn't let it rise again. So that the consequences he'd always escaped wouldn't bury everything he cared about now.

That past must remain secret.

He won't go back to what he's always been.

[burntheedges]

wip wednesday

Thanks for the tags @ace-turned-confused @secretelephanttattoo @schnarfer @sawymredfox! I haven't started working on anything since I started posting pas de deux BUT I do have this on deck for the monster (s)mash from @quinnnfabrgay-writes. It's just bullet points right now, lol. so, uh, important bits redacted:

👀

np tagging (sorry if you've already wipped work is wild rn): @katareyoudrilling @djarins-cyare @davnittbraes @beardedjoel @joelstummy

@whxtedreams @sp00kymulderr @maggiemayhemnj @mermaidgirl30 @mountainsandmayhem

@almostfoxglove @joelalorian @sixhours @ameerawrites @kedsandtubesocks

@whocaresstillthelouvre @iknowisoundcrazy @crowandmoonwriting @pedges-world @jeewrites

[ratatatastic]

do you write fic on ao3?

unfortunately for everyone involved i do!

[uhohbestie]

Will there be a TAMN playlist?

There will, yeah! Once the fic is finished Key and I are going to compile our many (many, many) TAMN-related/inspiration songs and make an "official" playlist! We don't want to spoil anything, though, so we're going to hang on to it until the fic is completely posted! - 🔒

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer In The Dark: "A Murder Shared Is A Murder Thirded" Outline!

Hello everyone -- I recently started work on the second Valicer In The Dark story, "A Murder Shared Is A Murder Thirded" (aka the one where they kill Bumby), and I thought it might be neat to share with you guys the outline I prepared for the story! Especially since I don't have any Sims 4 stuff to share on Wednesdays at the moment, thanks to the Chill Valicer Save file no longer functioning. :( I have plans for a successor, but it's going to take a little bit to get off the ground, so...

*shakes head* Anyway -- outline! My planning process for this story involved approaching it like it was an actual Blades In The Dark score -- complete with deciding on the type of plan the gang was going to use (and the detail they needed to provide), the loads they were going to have (and thus how much stuff they could actually carry), and doing actual rolls to figure out how the story would progress as they encountered various obstacles! (I, uh, may have purchased actual BITD-themed dice and a dice tray explicitly for this purpose. ^^;) However, I also took a moment to note down any "must-happen" moments in the fic first -- basically, any particularly important or cool bits that were going to occur no matter WHAT the dice said. Reason being, I've done some "rolling for something on the spot" fic-writing in the past with a friend, and I know how fucking frustrated I get whenever a dice roll ruins the cool thing that was supposed to happen in my head. Noting down the things I was DETERMINED to have happen and doing all the rolls BEFORE I actually started writing meant that I couldn't get angry at a good moment being ruined. Though actually, as you'll see, the dice were pretty kind to the trio in this score! I guess they wanted to make sure they succeeded in their task as much as I did. :) So, without further ado, here's the outline/score summary for "A Murder Shared Is A Murder Thirded!" Naturally, there will be spoilers for what happens in the fic, but I'll put most of it behind a cut, and you guys already know I have no care for spoiling my own stuff on here. XD

---

Score: Infiltrate the Houndsditch Home For Wayward Youth in Charhollow, find proof of Bumby’s activities, and preferably kill the bastard

Plan Type: Stealth (I mean, there’s going to be an element of Assault, but first they have to get in)

Detail: Point of Infiltration – the back door into the basement kitchen of the house

Loads: Alice – Light; Victor – Light; Smiler – Light (each have three load slots)

Have To Happen Moments:

The gang successfully make it to Alice’s room so she can get her stuff; possible heartfelt moment when they see the picture of her family on her wall

The gang successfully finds Bumby’s ledger in his office (inside a safe stowed away in a hidden drawer of his desk; it’s generally opened via Lizzie’s key but can be picked)

Bumby shows up, and Alice reclaims Lizzie’s room key and blows him up

Gang successfully escapes with the ledger, and run into Smiler’s parents Matt and Carol as they head out of town; they’re taken back to the Ministry Of Joy for the Names (aka night)

Engagement Roll:

+1 d for sheer luck

+1 d for being bold or daring (they’re trying to expose a known philanthropist as a child pimp)

+1 d for exposing a vulnerability of the target (Dr. Bumby has written off Alice as lost in the city and hired a new dogsbody, AND he doesn’t think she’d ever get anyone to help her if she did tell anyone about his activities)

3d total

Result: 1, 2, 4 – Mixed result, risky position – they get in the back door without incident, but Alice’s replacement June comes into the kitchen as they’re preparing to head up the stairs

Score Rolls:

As per the above, trio encounters June coming into the kitchen shortly after their successful infiltration and have to get past her – Smiler immediately introduces themselves and explains that they were hoping to meet with Dr. Bumby to see if they could form a partnership, as they believe their alchemical prowess would help the man in his work (they are indeed cringing on the inside as they say this) – Sway, 2d – 6! June believes them and sends them up to see Dr. Bumby with the other two

Safely inside the house, Victor gets the idea for Alice to get her stuff from her room before they proceed further (having already suggested they grab it before they went); Alice agrees with this and they grab her things (1 load for Victor, who I picture as carrying the bag)

Head up the stairs to Bumby’s office, encounter one of the children (Abigail? Charlie?) in the upstairs hallway, who naturally recognizes Alice and wants to tell Dr. Bumby she’s back – Alice tries to tell them no, with Smiler backing her up by claiming they want to surprise him – Command, 3d (+1 for Smiler’s help, 1 stress for Smiler; +1 for pushing herself, 2 stress for Alice) – 5. The kid agrees not to go tell Dr. Bumby right now, but it’s clear that they will tell him the next time they see him… Start a “Bumby Shows Up” clock as a result, four pieces, none ticked so far

Into the office before Dr. Bumby shows up! Time to find that ledger… The trio split up – Alice examines the bookshelf, Victor checks Dr. Bumby’s desk, Smiler looks around for anything that might give them a clue as to where the ledger might be

Alice – Study, 2d (+1 for pushing herself, stress up to 4) – 6! She doesn’t find the ledger in the bookshelf, but she does find a book safe with some money in it – +1 Coin for the gang to take with them!

Victor: Study, 2d (+1 for pushing himself, 2 stress for Victor) – 5. Victor finds a secret drawer with a safe in it – but, well, unsurprisingly, it’s locked, and opening it will take a bit (+1 to the “Bumby Shows Up” clock, 3 segments left)

Smiler: Survey, 2d (+1 for pushing themselves, stress up to 3) – 6! While Victor finds the safe, Smiler notes the windows on the side of the office and determines that it would be safe for the group to exit via one of them if they had the appropriate means to do so – cue them going “good thing I brought some rope!” and setting it up for them to climb down (one load ticked for Smiler)

That safe looks like it’s important – shame it’s locked! Smiler offers to try and pick it (flashback to them finding some lockpicks in Elder Gutknecht’s library – as they have, or will have, the “Pack Rats” special ability as Shadows, I will let them squeak by with no stress for this – probably does count as load for them, so that’s a second slot ticked) as Alice and Victor keep watch for Bumby or other suspicious children – Tinker, 2d – 5. Smiler gets the safe open, but Alice hears what sounds like someone coming up the steps… (+1 to the “Bumby Shows Up” clock, 2 segments left)

However – safe is open, and there is indeed a ledger inside! A ledger that is very clearly about selling off children to pedos, and in fact contains some notes from Bumby about the work that he does...and how much Alice reminds him of Lizzie. Everyone is notably disgusted, and Alice angrily wishes that she could get that room key off him, but agrees that it’s better to try and escape. The ledger is thus shoved in the bag, and Victor closes up the safe and stores it back in the secret drawer, before the trio try to stealthily head down the rope leading outside –

Alice – Prowl, 1d – 6! Alice is shockingly stealthy and gets down like a fucking ghost

Victor – Prowl, 1d – 4. Victor is not so stealthy and hits the wall once – he doesn’t make THAT much noise, but it’s definitely noticeable… (+1 to the “Bumby Shows Up” clock, 1 segment left)

Smiler – Prowl, 1d (+1 for pushing themselves, stress up to 5) – 4. And Smiler is also not particularly stealthy, losing their balance as they get off the rope and falling over – just loud enough for someone to notice! (+1 to the “Bumby Shows Up” clock – full!)

And that someone is Bumby, who entered his office at just that moment, saw the rope hanging out of his window, and stuck his head outside to see Alice and two other people, one of whom is carrying a bag. He naturally assumes that she’s stolen SOMETHING from him (even if he doesn’t yet suspect it is his ledger) and starts yelling at her – Alice blasts him as an abomination and reveals that she knows exactly what he’s been doing. Bumby is first like “oh come on, who would believe–” And THEN it registers “wait, she’s here with two other people, SHIT SOMEONE BELIEVES HER” and scrambles out of the office himself on the rope. Fortune roll for how gracefully he gets down, 2d because I imagine he has decent Prowl to get kids to customers – 4. He gets down, but like Smiler he lands badly and is off-balance for a bit –

And Alice, seeing an opportunity, darts in and grabs his watch-chain, ripping Lizzie’s room key off it, while shoving the electroplasm bomb (tick one load for Alice) into his hands. As this is a must-win scene for the fanfic, this Skirmish, 2d roll is only to determine the consequences to her – 4. She gets the bomb in his hands before he can retaliate, and he goes up a treat...but unfortunately, poor June has come out of the kitchen, attracted by the noise, and promptly starts screaming as Bumby goes up, forcing the trio to flee VERY FAST (Smiler yelling “sorry!” behind them) – they are not a crew yet, but they will start being one with 1 Heat on their tracker as a result!

However, score is officially a SUCCESS! :D The trio run until they’re sure they’re not being pursued, then take a moment to celebrate their victory, with Alice being very happy that she was indeed able to kill the bastard (even if she accidentally traumatized her replacement – she’ll want to make up for that later if she can). Talk then turns to getting the ledger to someone who will be able to publicize Bumby’s misdeeds – And then someone says “Smiler?” nearby, and Smiler recognizes their parents! They run over for hugs and introduce Matt and Carol Alton to their new friends. Matt and Carol are very nice and warmly greet Victor and Alice – Alice, feeling a little guilty, apologizes for getting Smiler into some trouble and preventing them from coming home sooner. Matt and Carol are confused, so the trio explain the Barkis situation and the whole “turns out he was a Spirit Warden and the Bluecoats think we murdered him” thing – And Matt and Carol go, “Oh! No, the actual Spirit Wardens confirmed he was an imposter who killed one of their own and stole their kit, and that his corpse showed signs of being very recently possessed before it burned, so you’re in the clear!” Victor, Alice, and Smiler are a bit “…” over this, as you might imagine. Carol jokes that, “oh come on, it’s not like you killed anyone else, right?” [significant silence] “...right?” Fortunately, this is when Victor hands over the ledger, with Alice and Smiler explaining a bit more about what just happened – after a look inside, Matt and Carol are like, “Oh, yeah, that murder was TOTALLY justified, good job.” They tell them that they can send it onto a reporter of their acquaintance, the lady who runs Publick Occurrences, and that Victor and Alice can stay the night in the Ministry of Joy if they want. As the trio have spent two days since the end of “Start At The Beginning...Sort Of” living in a house with no running water or heat, in one set of clothes, they are more than amendable to this suggestion, and the story probably ends with them on the way to the MOJ.

Post-Score Summary And XP:

Alice:

Stress level before downtime actions – 4

+1 Coin

XP:

2 for addressing a challenge with violence or coercion (commanding the kid, killing Bumby)

2 for expressing her beliefs (protecting the children) and background (she was the former dogsbody at Houndsditch!)

1 for – less struggling with and more indulging her vice (Obligation to the children of Houndsditch!)

Total: 5 – put 3 in the Insight XP tracker, 2 in the Prowess XP tracker (Alice wants Hunt and Finesse)

Victor:

Stress level before downtime actions – 2

XP:

1 for expressing his background (trade, he was the one to know to look for a ledger in the first place)

Total: 1 – put it in the Playbook XP tracker

Smiler:

Stress level before downtime actions – 5

XP:

2 for addressing challenges both with deception (talking their way past June) and technical skill (picking the lock on the safe)

1 for expressing their beliefs (taking Bumby down makes the world a little bit happier)

Total: 3 – put 2 in the Insight XP tracker, 1 in the Prowess XP tracker (Smiler wants Study and Finesse)

Downtime Activities:

Alice:

House Rule – if a score serves as indulging a vice for a character, that character automatically gets 1 stress knocked off the tracker at the end – stress down to 3

Train Insight, +1 XP in that tracker (Alice is working toward Hunt – maybe she gets pulled into a game of tag with some of the younger members of the cult XD)

Train Prowess, +1 XP in that tracker (Alice is also working toward Finesse – does some drawing)

Victor:

Train Playbook, +1 XP (Victor talks to some of the Whispers in the cult, starts getting excited about being one despite himself)

Train Resolve, +1 XP (Victor might as well work toward another Attune dot)

Smiler:

Indulge Pleasure Vice – 4, stress down to 1 (entertains themselves and their new friends with some songs on their guitar)

Train Prowess, +1 XP in that tracker (Smiler is working toward Finesse, and playing the guitar works with THAT too)

[verfound]

(Double) Sentence Sunday: 06.09.2024

I finally had a breakthrough with the bit I was stuck on with the selkies. Getting to the good stuff now... 👀

So have twelve sentences, since I've been so stuck lately 😂

Adrien told him of the storm that had claimed his Kagami’s ship — that he had feared had claimed Kagami herself, until she had been found on the beach the next day.

“She was wearing nothing but a tattered sail — can you believe it?” Adrien had laughed, shaking his head, and the words had given Luka pause.

“A…a sail?” he asked, his voice sounding choked. Adrien hummed and nodded.

“Or a blanket or some sort. I suppose it makes sense — the storm came up at night, and she was probably asleep in her cabin,” he said.  “Truly, I am just grateful…it changed her, Luka. As any such traumatic event would. But she is still with me, with our son, and I can take comfort in that. I must take comfort in that. I must believe that she will…I must believe she will still come back to me, fully, and not just…”

He had trailed off for a bit, until they exited the manor and stepped into the gardens Otis had been working on most of the morning.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

i still cannot believe that people actually read my posts. case in point: i got this notification (from @tumblemumbler, thank you) and laughed until there were tears.

it's true: i want to take fox mulder to the zoo. i'm guilty as charged. i wanna point at some lions and be like "woah", and see if he thinks the lions are amazing, or if he tries to play it cool and deny that sense of wonder you get from seeing a magnificent beast. is it so wrong to want to take a full grown man out to see the Creatures, and then watch him enjoy the gift shop.......? to find a nice little novelty tie with the funniest animal from the day on it...? to say, hey fictional man, let's put aside that decades long quest for answers on the existence of aliens, and marvel at some otters splashing about... now wouldn't that be lovely?

[thelawsofdaylight]

Prompt: Make a new post with 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 or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I was tagged by @pumpkinspice-prouvaire so so long ago but all of my WIPs were in a state of disgrace and thus I had nothing really to post!! But 2025 has got off to SUCH a strong start writing-wise so I am returning to fulfil!! My current (active) WIP documents are as follows:

exr care share au Nobody's Soldier marius/courfeyrac union lawyer au enjolras feuilly protest meetcute long version

I was tagged so long ago and I'm pretty sure everyone I would have tagged has already done this by now but if you're reading this and you have not done it and you would like to: congratulations, you have been tagged! :D

[twodiamondhoes]

I hate waking up after a depressive episode and having to calculate how much time I lost to it.

[pandora15]

good news!

I am officially doing febuwhump this year :)

I can't say for sure how many prompts I will be doing, but I did finish the first one today and I'll probably have the second one done by the time I go to sleep tonight, so…hopefully it'll end up being more than 2 but we'll see?

but I'm excited! writing has been really difficult lately, as I've said before, and I'm hoping that doing this will break me out of this funk.

[helianskies]

ugly maths.

i hate maths, right. i don't usually like numbers, and if i do like numbers it's gotta be an 8 or a 48 and nothing else.

thing is, i've recently caught myself doing maths again. ugly maths. the kind of maths that, really, i've been trying to avoid as much as possible because, well, it's ugly!

you... wanna see?

okay, fine... but don't say i didn't warn you!

ugly, see? look at all those numbers! not a 48 in sight!

huh? what's that? you don't see what i'm on about? oh... oh! hang on, lemme just—

better? yes? no? no? okay, what if i—

mmh, yes. ugly numbers. see it now? can you see why they're ugly?

here, i can make it worse.

these numbers are ugly. the maths they make me do is ugly.

now i'll level with you: the worst ones by far are the yellow numbers. the maths they make me do it the ugliest.

why ugly?

because it makes me ugly.

those numbers turn me into not only a suddenly number-obsessed fool, but a fool who also cannot understand these numbers and what they mean and why i feel like they reflect on me and my ability.

87, 75.

the thoughts are as follows:

• the orange numbers are big, so why are you being ugly about the yellow ones? you should be happy with what you have. so many nice big numbers! not everyone receives that.

• is it that there are two different audiences for these two different fics? perhaps. they are quite different works, with different appeals, and different themes. maybe you are reading too much into it.

• why are you obsessing over numbers anyway? you don't like maths! you left maths behind when you were 16, put it down!

okay, okay, fine! i'll put the maths down. right here, in fact!:

that 87 was an 83 at the start of the year. the 6161 it is attached to was a 5453.

4, 708.

ugly maths.

the 75 is a nice number. in fact, compared to 87, it is beautiful, radiant, enchanting. at the start of the year, 75 was 48. wow. now that is one sexy number!

27.

mmmm.

6161, 1061.

5100.

87, 75.

12.

mmmm.

you know, my most favourite comment left recently on a fic of mine was 2 characters long: :(

it made me :)

well, actually, it made me >:) because it was left in response, presumably, to one of the key scenes in a new chapter which left the exact impression on someone that i hoped it would.

they must be the only one who reacted like that, though.

1.

have i mentioned that that 87 and 75 include author responses?

i won't try to do more maths, there. it might not end well for me. the maths is making me tired enough as it is, and i have an early start tomorrow.

oh! but, that being said, i have another set of ugly numbers to show you, so keep 87 and 75 in mind.

ready?

838, 245.

(want a hint? the green numbers!)

838, 87. 245, 75.

9.6, 3.3.

ugly maths. it's ugly again, see? i don't like it. i'm seeing numbers within numbers within numbers, and i can't seem to stop!

the numbers make me ask new questions:

• why is it not good enough?

• people seem to engage more with one fic over the other, so shouldn't you prioritise?

• is all this maths this really good for you?

no, it isn't.

i want to avoid ugly maths. ugly maths makes me want to tear my hair out. it makes me want to start from scratch. it makes me want to grab someone and scream. it makes me want to cry and press a button that has tempted me many times before when the numbers become too ugly to bear.

ugly maths turn me into an ugly person.

ugly maths make me obsessive, paranoid, anxious, regretful, vindictive, spiteful, alone.

i hate maths. i hate numbers, just like, it feels, the numbers hate me.

[leedee013]

I need me some Needle - @jtl-fics

prev

Jean winced at the thought of what had transgressed on his way home. Renee took up his hand tenderly, examining the line work with great curiosity as Jean worked over how to explain everything to her.

"How much do you know about Riko Moriyama?" he finally asked.

Renee ran her fingers over the back of Jean's hand as her lips thinned into a tight smile. "He was on the same football team as me and Kevin back in high school," she began. "Why?"

"He showed up at the parlor yesterday. Then he was right outside of Andrew's studio when I left tonight and followed me all the way back," he said.

Renee sighed. "Come. Kevin and I made dinner, and you should eat. We can talk about this once you've had a plate and once Kevin is back from his run."

MASTERPOST

[kid-lore]

CRASHES THROUGH THE DOOR

igHT so hear me out

i know i disappeared into the void for several months yet again, but a lotta stuff has happened and i can’t get myself fixated on anything long enough to actually know how to write for it, plus i’ve been working on more personal stories, but now sky has me in a chokehold. i saw some sketches on pinterest and. hear me out.

what if i were to start working on an undertale/children of the light crossover? cause my brain’s already goin’ absolutely WILD with ideas for how it could progress and the ways light could play into it

[ourceliumnetwork]

oh shit y'all.

i've done gotten invested in Gurren Lagann. we're like 19 episodes deep in this paint and i have been emotionally compromised by the silly mechs.

believe in the me.