#i will also be about halfway through my outline after i post this chapter

[stealthnoodle]

Happy WIP Wednesday, I am optimistic that I will keep this chapter under 10k and get it up by 11/20, the canon event it shares some connective tissue with.

"If nothing else matters, why did you agree to my deal?" "I already told you why." In the silence that followed, Because I wanted to break you to prove my superiority crumbled on Akechi's tongue. Because I wanted to see how brightly you could shine before I snuffed you out fell apart just as readily. The only answer that held its shape was Because I wanted to keep you for as long as possible, and he nearly choked forcing it back down his throat. Ren narrowed his eyes. "I want to hear you say it." It didn't matter what either of them wanted. Akechi's orders would still be waiting for him when he left the Metaverse and Ren's blood vanished from his hands. With Sakura, all he had done was screw himself out of the buffering distance of a mental shutdown. What was he supposed to do now? Break into her bedroom and smother her with a pillow? Lie and hope that her continued existence as a shut-in might go unnoticed? Go back to Shido with his tail between his legs and explain that he let another target slip away, right after he had sworn that it would never happen again, and hope Shido decided that he was still worth more squeezed than slaughtered? Ren's wrist wriggled in his grasp. He growled and tightened his hold. "I think you're not being honest with yourself," Ren said, with the reckless panache of a man who had the knot of a noose under his ear and nothing to lose by heckling the hangman. "I think if nothing else really mattered to you, I would have been dead the minute we ended up in Futaba's Palace." "Shut the fuck up!" No, Akechi needed him to keep talking, keep antagonizing until something snapped and his throat was wet shreds between Akechi's fingers.

[bumblebugwrites]

chapter 6: bite the hand

Pairing: Victor!Treech x fem!Reader

Summary: Over the next four years, you speak only five times with Treech, each conversation proving more confusing than the last.

Warnings: Cursing, Suggestive Themes, Mention of Injuries, Character Death, Weapons, Violence.

Word Count: 6.6k

Taglist: @nekee-lilac02, @mr-panda357, @yourfavmiki, @blackoutdays13, @dialuvsbangtan, @emgunther

A/N: Well, this is admittedly late, sorry y'all. Also on that note, the update schedule is about to be completely fucked for this fic. As it turns out school is lowkey catching up to me so unfortunately I think I may need to move to posting every two weeks. Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter, which according to my original outline puts us at about halfway through No Evil Angel But Love!

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“I just think it was a mistake. It should never have happened, and– And it won’t happen again.” And just like that, your heart was shattered, scattered across the floor in a million pieces. Well, maybe not just like that. In fact, for a moment, you’d thought the whole thing was a joke of some sort. But then his eyes had caught yours, cold in a way you’d never seen them before, and you had to stop yourself from staggering back, from hitting the wall, because this Treech, the one standing before you, he looked just like the man who’d put an axe through your heart in a dream you’d tried so hard to forget.

“I don’t understand. Does this have something to do with the fact that you disappeared this morning?” Sure, you had been out of it when he’d left, but it didn’t take long for the panic to set in, waking once more to a cold bed, mind reaching out to a memory formed only an hour ago. A mystery phone call to your room. Treech disappearing out the door.

“No, I– No. Just listen to me. This is it, it’s over.” Not the phone call. Him. He wanted this, and next to that, the phone call felt like something to be forgotten in its entirety.  But why?

“You came here last night. You showed up at my hotel room, saying you couldn’t take it anymore, and now, what? You’ve changed your mind?” Anger was quick to follow confusion in those fleeting moments, and as you surged forward, hands tangling desperately in his shirt, you weren’t sure if the intent was to pull him in or push him away.

“You’re just not–” And his hands were on yours, brushing a sweet, delicate pattern across your knuckles, bringing you that soft, quiet feeling he always had. And for a moment, you could feel him leaning in. To hold you? To kiss you? You weren’t sure. “I don’t want you.” 

It was like a punch in the gut.

“I was enough last night.” Tears clouded your vision as you held steady willing him to look at you, to pull his gaze from the ground, to wrap his hands around yours once more. They were limp now, hanging uselessly at his sides.

“Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you never were.” You wanted to scream. To cry. To lash out and disappear and explode with the unmistakable rage inside you. You couldn't. You could barely speak.

“Treech, I–”

“We’re done. Don’t talk to me. Don’t touch me. Don’t even look at me.” And with that, he pushed you away, spinning to exit out the door just behind you. Leaving you to crumple to the ground. Alone. Unwanted. 

Over the next four years, you had five more conversations with Treech alone, each leaving you more confused than the last.

The first time you spoke was just over two years after he told you that night had been a mistake. That you were a mistake.

It was harder to stay away in the beginning. Hardest at night when you could hear his screams, telltale signs of the nightmares you knew he fell prey to. The nightmares that formed mirror images of your own. Several nights, you found yourself frozen outside his door, compelled for some unearthly reason to stand guard, to make heavy, unyielding eye-contact with the painted number 7 as though waiting long enough might make it open without any necessary action. You knew then what you really wanted. To go inside. To assure him it would be okay. To offer him the same place in your room you always had. But then, he didn’t want that. He’d made that clear enough. And so after minutes, or sometimes hours of waiting, you would escape back to your own room before your presence could be noted. Afraid of the harsh words he might have stored up this time, lashings for your petty emotions.

It was one of those nights, the first time you spoke, although the nightmare was yours, not his. It had left you in a cold sweat as you jerked yourself from the duvet, still sobbing, and you found yourself wondering when the room had become so unbearably large. A glass of water, you’d thought. A coffee, maybe; chances are you’re done with sleep tonight anyway. You’d wondered how Treech was. You always did when your own nightmares exceeded their typical limits, and the thought had infiltrated your mind until the minute you’d pulled the door open, revealing his seated form just outside, back pressed to the wall. Alert. Awake, as though certain his presence alone might ward off any oncoming evil. 

He appeared nearly as shocked as you at the reveal, quickly launching himself to his feet and plastering a grimace across his features, darkened by the little light in the hall. And just as you’d opened your mouth to speak, to question his attendance at the foot of your door, he’d bit with words of his own.

“Could you try not to be so loud? Some people here are sleeping.” You did not populate the hall outside his door so much after that. You did not populate his presence at all.

The second time was out of necessity. It was that same year of the 13th Games, and you had found yourself down a tribute, the girl, Rhea, having lost her life in what was beginning to be known as the bloodbath. Skinner was older, the boy. Eighteen and a walking tragedy, so close to escaping. That was the year before they stopped locking you all in the Academy. Before Lux convinced them that sponsor relations could only bear to improve if mentors were allowed the ability to mingle with the people of the Capitol, within reason, of course. Before the Games grew longer, sometimes lasting over a week. 

The night was young, but you were on your third cup of coffee, unable to tear your eyes from the screen. From Skinner’s restless movements as he sat back to a tree, with eyes that scanned his surroundings in wide, impatient arcs. He was alone, and no allies meant no sleep, so he clung to the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, begging it to carry him to safety. 

On your right, Teff fidgeted with his screen, clearly agitated by an increased sense of anxiety at the prospect of both of his tributes escaping the mess of fighting that began the Games. It was harder that way; you had come to learn. Longer survival meant hope. Hope that will infiltrate your thoughts. Your emotions. Higher risk of attachment. And with two tributes, a higher risk that the death of one would only serve to destroy the other. Or worse, a higher risk that they would be forced to take each other on. You’d seen it happen. In the 12th Games, both remaining tributes came from 2, and while Octavian remained firm and unmoving in his seat, Antonia could barely force herself to watch.

Still, you had liked Skinner, cursed with the gangly limbs of a teenager on the verge of adulthood, with a crooked smile and a biting sense of humor reserved only for Rhea in their short days together, so you pushed on. And if the lingering claws of hope had curled their way around your heart, so be it. Maybe this would be the year you could save one. Maybe this would be the year you saw a kid survive.

To your left, there was Treech. Always Treech, who endlessly invaded your thoughts in those weeks you were forced to travel back to the Capitol. In the years since your first visit, the trips had only increased, with Snow managing to find a reason to gather you all in the ‘Gem of Panem’ at least four times a year. Press, he called it, and Hilarius often assured you that networking of that sort was necessary, but it was hard to believe even from his mouth, and you often felt yourself feeling more inclined to believe Teff’s theories. They just want to remind us who’s in control.

Treech was down a tribute, too; though both had escaped the initial violence, the career pack had managed to track the pair, quickly ending the boy’s life and leaving only his girl to escape. Arbor. It had been some time since you had noted her presence on your screen, but you didn’t dare to even attempt casting a look in Treech’s direction, fearing the rash display of the temper you had come to know as reserved for you and you alone.

And you wouldn’t have had to, really, if it weren’t for what happened next, the crushing of underbrush underfoot, the cacophony of voices infused with a false confidence. Skinner’s head shot up in an instant, fear plain on his features. He stood slowly, pushing himself up from the ground with the bark of the tree cutting into his palm for support. The career pack was coming, and he was as good as dead.

Several low branches stuck out to you, and silently, you begged him to climb in spite of a display earlier that day which assured you he did so with the elegance of a toddler. Still, it was all that was left, and you were clinging to hope. Stupid, useless hope. He turned to size up his route upwards, and the voices grew nearer. It was now or never. The pace was the first problem you noticed as Skinner inched up the tree with the speed of a snail. You realized in passing he’d probably never climbed a tree before. Sure, they weren’t a rarity in 10. There were plenty out on the ranch, and as a child, you often sought solace among their branches when your father had allowed you to tag along with him to work. But for a kid like Skinner, confined to 10’s more industrial parts, spending days cooped up in the slaughterhouse, climbing a tree wasn’t exactly within the realm of knowledge he should possess. 

“Fuck. Come on.”

The second thing you noted was the noise. Certainly, there aren’t many silent ways to climb a tree, with the continual brushing of leaves against the fabric of your clothes, but the footfalls were doing little to help in the way of masking his presence, and though he’d made a bit of progress, you almost wished Skinner would stop moving completely. 

The third and most glaring problem, however, was that you’d finally managed to find Arbor, crouched and observant several branches above Skinner. No weapon. That was good. What wasn’t good was that it would be well within her rights to give him up. And beneficial, too. You sucked in a large breath. 

The pack had reached the foot of the tree, though it didn’t seem to note the two tributes hidden within its branches. Still, they idled for a moment, and your whole body tensed with anticipation. Skinner’s foot slipped. And you knew you shouldn’t, but you shielded your eyes, waiting for the impact, incapable of watching him fall into death’s open hands. It didn’t come. Instead, as you removed several of the fingers obscuring your vision, you found Arbor, hand clinging to the back of his shirt, and her face screwed up into a scowl from the effort of keeping him upright. Skinner’s clumsy hands managed to catch a branch, and he pulled himself up, mouth already opening in a question, but she was faster, pressing a hand to his lips and shaking her head with a vehement look that encouraged only silence.

And so he said nothing, and for a while, that’s how they remained, waiting for the pack to move on, her hand over his mouth, simply taking each other in. It was only once the coast was clear that he dared to speak.

“Why did you save me?”

“Well, I didn’t need you making a bunch of noise and giving me away,” she said, releasing any hold she had on him. For a moment, her face only served to support the harsh words, cold in its regard, but the instant his eyes shifted towards the ground, it softened, revealing the true intention, simple and unbridled care. She reminded you of Treech.

“Are you gonna kill me now?” Skinner sounded almost defeated, and he did not even bother to meet her gaze as he asked. Her expression, safe from his sight, twisted into one of concern before she masked it once more.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to. I don’t have any weapons, and the chances of me strangling you are low at best.”

“I don’t have any weapons either,” Skinner admitted before appearing embarrassed by the confession. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not a threat, so– please don’t try to kill me.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you could kick my ass,” Arbor returned, her tone flat and a small smirk gracing her features. Skinner flushed at the expression before admitting defeat with laughter of his own when she let out a chuckle.

“So where’s your partner?” He asked.

“Dead.” The response was factual, but the traces of pain on her face remained obvious. “Yours?”

“Dead.” It was quiet for a moment, and though neither of them spoke, you noted Arbor eyeing Skinner's rope.

“Maybe we could make a deal?” She asked.

“Like what?” He was slow to respond but less guarded than before.

“Like allies?” And she extended a hand in a truce, only continuing after noting Skinner’s hesitation. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted, and if I’m gonna sleep in this tree, I’d prefer to do it tied down and with someone to watch my back. We could take shifts. Even if it's just for tonight?”

“Okay.”

It was not then that you spoke with Treech. Nor was it over the following days, watching the pair grow closer. Watching them reach the final five with the boy from 11 and the girls from 1 and 2. No. The days registered simple interactions. Nods indicating bread and water would be sent, and curt conversations regarding strengths and weaknesses. It was only on the sixth night that you shared more than a handful of words; even then, it wasn’t much. And yet, it was more. Heavier than any of the terse exchanges you’d held since you stopped speaking altogether.

Because, on the sixth night, Arbor and Skinner shared a kiss. He had fallen earlier in the day. No simple fall either. His leg would only carry him so far, but Arbor remained loyal, and the two traveled as a unit. Under the moonlight and the cover of darkness, she had stopped them to take a look at the injury, steady hands unraveling the makeshift bandage she had torn from her own shirt. Skinner only cringed in pain, regardless of her soft-spoken attempts to comfort him as she poured water from a nearby stream on the wound.

“It’s no use. I’m dead weight. You should go. Get out of here before I accidentally screw you over.” The defeat was evident in his tone, but so was something else, something more. A need for her to make it out. To survive.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Her jaw was tense as she focused on the work before her, but you sensed it was not out of a need to concentrate.

“Arbor, I’m not gonna let you die for me–” He was exhausted, eyes heavy with sleep and glistening with pain. Sweat collected at his brow, and he raised a lazy hand to wipe it away, but she got there first, swiping her thumb across his forehead before speaking again.

“Well, I’m not gonna let you die, period. So, just drop it.”

“Arbor.” His hand moved to still her own as though begging her to meet his gaze.

“Skinner?” She asked, annoyed by the disruption but looking up nonetheless.

“What happens if it’s just us?” And you could hear a pin drop in the Academy lecture hall; not even Lucky Flickerman bothered to present his input.

“Well, we aren’t– That’s not… I’m gonna get you out of here,” she stated with finality. Beside you, Treech stiffened, the scene beginning to appear all too familiar. Two kids from 7 and 10, with nothing and everything on the line at the same time.

“I wouldn’t let you do that. I wouldn’t be able to let you do that.”

“Why? Why are you being so selfish? Just let me save you–” And she pounded at his chest, but there was no feeling in her attacks. It took Skinner no effort at all to stop her fists, collecting her hands within his own.

“I don’t want to live if it means you have to die. Because I– Well, I know I haven’t known you that long, but I– Well, I–” And suddenly she was kissing him, telling him wordlessly she felt the same. And suddenly, the world was crashing down, fear pooling in your stomach at the consequences you were sure would come, and you couldn’t help it, looking at Treech, who was already looking at you. Your mouth was dry.

“I don’t– I–” Your chest was constricting, and the room felt hot, hotter than ever before, and your mind was spinning at a million miles an hour. You crossed to the entrance in mere moments, not even noting Treech directly behind you until you had shoved your way out, back slamming into the wall just outside as you crumbled to the ground.

“I– I–”

“You’ve got to breathe. You– We have to get back in there. It isn’t something until we make it something.” His tone was cold, but he was crouched before you, and when his hands reached to pull you off the floor, you swore his thumb ran carefully over your arm once. Twice.

“But it is. You know it is. And if those kids die at the Capitol’s hand, I’m gonna spend the rest of my life wondering if it's my fault. If it’s our fault.” And it was true. It may not have been love for him, but for you, the echoes were everywhere. And though you’re sure the Capitol never saw what happened that night, Dr. Gaul knew enough for the connection to be dangerous.

“You don’t know if that’s what they’ll see–”

“Is it what you saw? Because it’s the first thing I thought about. And I know you hate me now, but you can’t be stupid enough to think that Coriolanus Snow could miss it.” His face only grew more tense before it passed to stone once more.

“What other choice do we have?” He was right. Of course, he was right. So you reentered and took your places, fixed yourselves with masks of unbothered poise, and for nothing. They were dead by morning, carcasses wrapped around one another in a pile of bones and flesh once the Gamemakers’s mutts had finished. And as the camera panned away, you swear you felt a lingering gaze on you, but you did not look, only faked a cough as you brushed the tears from your cheeks and fixed your steady gaze ahead.

That was the year Teff’s boy won, Reed, and once more, before you were allowed to return home, you were forced to attend a party at the President’s mansion, this time with the inclusion of a Victor’s dance. 

“Teff, come on, I am begging you–” You began, but the older boy was already shaking his head.

“I can’t, alright. Octavian already asked me if I’d dance with Teresa, and I gave my word that I would. He registered us a week ago,” he sighed, and you wanted to scream; how could you have been stupid enough to forget about this?

“What about Reed?” At this point, anyone would do. Anyone who wasn’t Treech.

“He’s not doing the dance; his leg is broken, remember?” And you did; the boy had fallen off the top of the cornucopia while securing his win, landing on top of the girl from 1, whose neck broke on impact.

“Well, do you think Mags will switch with me?” You were grasping at straws, aware the answer would be no the moment the suggestion passed your lips.

“You know the deal, the only reason we are allowed to have partners from other Districts is because–” But you interrupted him, already knowledgable of your oncoming defeat.

“We don’t have any from our own. I know. I just don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“It’s one dance, it can’t be that bad.” He reassured, but you knew better.

“We haven’t spoken in years.”

“You spoke the other day–” Teff corrected.

“That was different; I was basically having a meltdown.” You recalled that moment in the hall. His thumb on your arm. Part of you was convinced it never happened at all.

“I don’t know what to tell you; take it or leave it; this is your only option.” He shrugged, and the conversation was over; you both knew it, but not before you vocalized your frustration one last time.

“Fuck.”

That is it, the third time you talk to Treech, at the President’s mansion, surrounded by Capitol citizens. Before you take the floor, you recall your last dance in this place with a certain Heavensbee. Your mind drifts to the events of that night. To what happened after you departed. You shake the thoughts away. Now is no time to linger on what used to be. 

When it is time to go, Treech appears at your side, extending his arm to lead you onto the floor, and you note that he seems to flinch away from your touch, which barely grazes the crook he creates for you. You are already seething. Was it really so painful for him to even touch you? Were you really that deplorable? It is a simple waltz, one your escorts were able to instruct you on with ease, and though the first few steps are taken in silence, as the music continues, you hear the other victors around you begin to chatter. You and Treech remain quiet, your eyes fixed on the floor below, watching the pattern of your steps. Thinking about anything except his hand on your waist and the other delicately gripping yours.

“You’re not supposed to look at your feet,” he mutters, and that gets your attention enough to force your gaze away from its previous target.

“Excuse me?”

“You aren’t supposed to look at your feet. It makes it easier to screw up the steps.” You don’t answer, only fixing your sightline over his shoulder instead, fully expecting the silence to engulf you once more.

“I hate dancing.” He sighs bitterly, and you almost have to resist a smile because it makes sense that the stoic boy before you would loathe the exercise in trust and coordination, ripe with opportunities for embarrassment. For creating holes in his well-kept facade.

“I don’t.” And you aren’t really sure what prompts you to speak, but maybe it is his clear discomfort with the practice, evident in the way his shoulders bunch awkwardly with each turn and his eyes, in spite of his own advice, continue to flit down towards the floor.

“There’s lots of dancing back in 10. Line dances, mostly from a long time ago. But there’s other stuff, too. Once a month, there's a big dance at City Hall. There’s this big open barn connected to the back, and they decorate it, and everyone goes. My dad taught me how, so it reminds me of him.” You can’t help but smile at the memory of your father, pulling the hat from his head and dropping it onto your own before spinning you around the kitchen in preparation for your very first dance. When the day finally came, you’d already forgotten all the steps, but he didn’t mind setting your feet atop his own, the two sets of boots moving in a stilted pattern around the barn, all shrieking laughter and love.

You feel Treech’s shoulder relax beneath your touch, his gaze now fixed on you and nothing else. The movements become more fluid, and by the end of the dance, it feels like flying. That is until something else seems to catch his attention just outside of your sightline. And suddenly, his grip on your waist tightens, ushering you closer, but his eyes grow cold. For a moment, you could have sworn he was shielding you from something until he wasn’t. Until the music came to an end, and he was pushing away, but not before leaving you with a cutting remark.

“Thanks for the story; I’ll remember that the next time I’m pretending to give a shit about you.” You almost gape at him, unsure how to respond, but as rage, hot and untethered, licks its way up your spine, you give into the cruelest thing you can think to muster.

“I hate you.” And he flinches as though the words hurt him. As though he hadn’t spent every moment of the last three years trying to probe that very reaction from your lips. And you know he must not have meant it. That it is nothing more than the residual regret leaving his body, but a part of you relishes it. Relishes causing him pain after the torture he had put you through.

“Good.”

Victory Tours weren’t uncommon by then, so when it was announced the tribute from 11 and his mentor would be making their way to 10, people were well prepared. Lennox in particular seemed to be veritably jumping with joy, unable to sit still after having received the knowledge that you would be hosting the visitors in your new home in the Victor’s Village. Even Fawn, who at the now ripe age of fourteen was determined to allow nothing to faze her, seemed excited at the prospect of the celebration that typically occurred in tandem with the arrival of a victor. 

You on the other hand were simply happy to see Teff, pulling the taller man into a warm hug the moment he set foot off the train. He seemed not to mind, laughing as he pulled you tighter against him and after a long day of festivities including a night of dancing and the best food 10 could offer, you found yourselves sat around your kitchen table, enjoying one another’s company and a couple of drinks.

“Are we gonna talk about what happened at the mansion? That night, at the party? Quite a scene you two caused,” Teff asked, finally digging into what you knew he’d been itching to talk to you about. You allowed your head to slump forward, burying your face within the comfort of your arms with a groan.

“What am I supposed to say? I was being very civil. He’s the one that ruined it.” Teff only nodded in understanding, having come to know the events that made up your rocky relationship with Treech through snippets divulged over the years.

“You know I’m just worried about you is all. Just wish you would fly under the radar like the rest of us–”

“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Tell me about you. About home. How’s Harvest?” Teff was quick to relent, never displeased when talking about his favorite subject, his wife of two years. 

“She’s good. She’s– Well actually I’ve been meaning to tell you this– She’s pregnant.” And though the news reeks of joy, there is an uneasy smile on his face. Still, you are quick to rid him of it.

“That’s incredible! I’m so happy for you.” And you are, beaming from ear to ear, but a part of you aches, just as you know it does for him, for that unborn child. For the world they will surely face.

The fourth time you spoke, it was your fault. At least, that’s what Treech told himself. It was the year of the 14th Hunger Games, and in preparation, the Capitol was running a television program highlighting each of the Districts. It was for that reason Treech told himself it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when the small screen in the corner of the hotel bar filled with Lamina’s face, especially given that she was his District partner and, as he was the only existing victor from 7, an obvious choice for closer study. Still, it didn’t stop the shock from cutting to his core like a knife. 

You had taken the seat beside his, though clearly not intentionally. It was the only place left in the whole bar, and upon your arrival, he had watched you hesitate to even stay, but with the Games set to start in two days, you needed a drink, exhausted by the prospect of another year.

It was as though you could sense his discomfort, gaze clearly flitting in his direction and dragging across his tense form. The television program blared out, filling any gaps in conversation left by the bar’s occupants, and you observed it keenly following Treech’s reaction.

“She seemed kind.” And there you were, attempting to comfort him after all he’d done to push you away.

“She cried a lot.” It is easier than telling the truth. Than admitting he had known Lamina long before the Games. That she was family, a cousin on his mother’s side.

He often saw Lamina in you. In your quiet moments of soft kindness and generosity. Even in moments of fear, watching you steel yourself and move forward in spite of the difficulties. Sometimes, he would imagine a world with no Districts or Games. A world where a gentler version of you who had not been left hardened by survival had met Lamina, and the two of you had become fast friends, spending your days whispering confessions among the branches of the tallest trees or stretched out in a field, you with a pencil and paper and Lamina fashioning a crown of flowers.

“You remind me of her.”

“Because I’m weak?” Your brow furrowed as you gazed down into the drink before you, preparing yourself for the harsh words you had come to expect of Treech.

“Because you’re brave.” He couldn’t help it really, the way it sprang forward from his lips, toppling out before he could fight to keep it in. He suspected somewhere in the wide universe, the spirit of Lamina was laughing at him. That she was somehow responsible for the admission. He hated her for it. Hated himself. Your own face revealed little more than an obvious state of shock, blank blinking eyes staring back at him when he finally summoned the courage to fix your gaze with his own. Your mouth moved, jaw seeming to hinge and unhinge, but nothing came out. Nothing until the soft syllables of his name slipped from your lips in a stilted sort of way, like a sharp breath. 

Treech was on his feet before you’d finished, the remainder of his drink easily downed in his haste to depart, but as he turned one last time to eye the television in the corner, he could have sworn your eyes were brimming with tears.

The final time you spoke to Treech, it felt as though he had something more to say. Like the words he wished to express had caught on his tongue like glue, unable to escape. It was the final day of the 14th Games, five years exactly since your own. On days like that, you forced yourself to remember the things that often felt too painful. The names that sunk like stones in your chest, fading each year into more distant memories. Rye, with his eyes like two wide saucers. Orion, who was so close to victory that he had nearly succeeded in having it. Baron, the boy from back home who’d lost his life within minutes, figure slumped and unmoving in the center of the arena for the remainder of the Games. And, of course, there were others. Brandy and Tanner. Bee and Colt. Rhea and Skinner. Kids from home. Kids just like you. Except here you were, not dead, while they lay, presumably rotting in some mass grave deep within the Capitol’s walls. The thought made you sick.

That year, your fourth as a mentor, your tributes hadn’t even managed to outlast the bloodbath. The second Rochelle’s body hit the ground, you knew it was over, but it didn’t keep you from hoping. Hoping against reason, she would find a way to fight it. To get back up. She hadn’t. And that year, as the buzzer rang out and the bile rose in your throat as it always did, you noted that the pain was less. Less intense. Less crippling. And then the disgust was back again, drowning you, with its aim pointed inwards, armed and ready to feast on your heart. How could you be so cruel? How could you allow yourself to become so hardened and unfeeling? 

Because it is easier. Because there has to be a better way. Because you will never survive this if you cannot learn to leave some things behind. Still, you’d never left a single thing behind your whole life, clinging to every passing thought, person, or feeling like it might be the last. So when Rochelle was gone, signaling your Games had finished, you pulled the small notebook from the inner pocket of your vest and scribbled her name just below Gavin’s with its own set of notes. 

Rochelle. Two sisters, no parents. Lived with her father’s brother and worked nightshifts at the slaughterhouse. 15. Kind. Enjoyed the color green. Was learning to knit with some of the excess wool from her uncle’s work at a nearby farm, sheering the sheep.

Your fingers traced over the list, gently passing each name with the pad of your thumb. So many names. It was easier now to write them down. It was easier now to emote, to feel openly without the watchful eye of the Capitol analyzing your every move just behind Lucky Flickerman. Well, at least without it trained directly on your soul.

A bit further down the bar, Lux sat by herself as well; Beau tucked into the seat beside Trawl, the two having become closer over the years. Maybe even too close, you thought regretfully, mind flitting to a time you had caught the former making a quiet escape from Trawl’s room in the dead of night. Still, you’d bit your tongue, refusing to lecture someone you were aware already knew of the potential consequences. Besides, words often fall on deaf ears when spoken from a position as precarious as yours.

There were three kids left then, each with no alliance in place to keep them safe. A boy from 2, a girl from 5, and Maple, Treech’s girl from 7. She was ruthless, doing little in the way of preserving any image of humanity with her kills, but you understood that there was more than what appeared to pool on the surface. That those who seemed the most heartless were often the most human of all, filled with an unparalleled desperation to return. For a loved one. For themselves, hoping to go back to some semblance of a childhood they would never see again. Your heart swelled for her. For all of them. Still, you’d been doing your best to avoid her mentor since your last encounter. Afraid that he might snap once more, leaving you frustrated and hollow. Or worse, that he might plant some ridiculous seeds of hope as he had with your fourth conversation, calling you brave before disappearing completely. He was infuriating. Aggravating. Annoying, vexing, and completely incensing. 

He was also sitting directly across the bar, arm draped over the seat of the woman beside him with the same lazy arrogance you had come to register as a part of his Capitol persona, a smirk painted light and unshakable across his face. It was as though you could not even recognize the man before you. Still, he looked good. That much, you could easily admit, curls on the lengthier side now compared to the more cropped cut you’d last seen him with. You wondered if they still felt the same, if running your hands through them would still have the intoxicating effect it had years ago. You want to punch yourself in the face for the indulgence of a thought like that, forcing your gaze away with the heat that rises to your cheeks, and just in time, it seems, as the screen switches to capture Maple, finishing off the girl from 5. It is over in a second, and all of the sudden, there are only two remaining. 

Your heart aches for her, the dead girl from 5, without a mentor or guidance, left in the dark. Still, you cannot stop your gaze from traveling across the bar again to fix on Treech, only to find he is already looking at you. The woman beside him has rid herself of all pretense and is curled into his side, back arched like a cat. And yet, he appears almost regretful, eyes trained on your face with the sort of steely focus that rarely graced his features these days. 

Hours later, when Maple does win, pushed over the finish line with the help of several grandiose sponsorships, you can’t say you are all that surprised, no. The real shock comes as you move to exit the bar when a hand catches your forearm within its grasp. You almost ignore it. Almost push to continue on your steady path toward freedom, but it pulls hard, whipping you around, nearly sending you barreling into the chest of your assailant. Treech. And he stands there, blubbering like a fish, features painted with the unsubtle earnesty of a boy. And that alone is enough to stop you in your tracks.

“I– I–”

But not for long. You’d learned your lesson long ago. Wrenching your arm from his grasp, you spin on your heel before he so much as forms a second word, making for the elevator. You would not fall prey to him again. Not now, not ever. In your eyes, Treech was as good as dead.

It was another month before you saw him again, although, on the morning of the Victory Tour’s arrival, you were nowhere to be found within the awaiting procession. Despite the Capitol’s wishes, you’d continued work on the ranch in your free time, and this morning was no exception. Especially considering you’d requested the shift, putting as much distance between yourself and the upcoming ceremonials as possible. 

Just last night, you’d sent notice to the mayor that you’d been feeling unwell, vomiting, and the like, pleading to be kept from the tour for the safety of those involved. He’d kindly agreed, considering your consistent attendance in previous years, and so you’d spent the last few hours with Bluebell, who had grown over time into as much your horse as one could be, walking the ranch’s perimeter and assessing the different pastures for any sign of intrusion the previous night. Finding none, you dismounted, ridding the creature of everything but her bridle and allowing her to graze within your sightline as you sat in the grass, pencil at the ready and sketchbook perched easily in your lap. 

And so the morning passed in easy silence between the pair of you, only returning to the barn just before lunch due to necessity, though you nearly turned on your tail as the building came into view. The form was clear enough from afar, leaned up against the side of the old building, and at first, you felt your chest fill with anxiety, concerned that perhaps the mayor had caught onto your lie from last night to come get you. But as you drew closer, you noted that familiar head of curls you would recognize anywhere, accompanying the lanky form of a young man. Treech.

[rearranged-fanfic]

(Update 6/3)

Sit down a spell, weary traveler. Come and sit by my fire; bask in the warmth of the flame and rest your aching scrolling finger. You'll be sitting a while, for I have a tale to tell:

Okay, so I've had a Toshiba laptop for the better part of ten years. Maybe a little longer. That laptop has survived being struck by lightning, submerged in a bathtub, and literally having a whole bookcase topple down onto it. I thought it was immortal...

I was sadly mistaken.

About six months ago, I noticed that the typing was getting sluggish. I'd patter away at the keyboard and the letters would appear with a bit of lag. That's fine, since I use Dragon to talk-to-text for quite a bit of my writing. I really only use the keyboard for final assembly, editing, and doing quick rewrites. So, it really didn't bother me. Fastforward to April, which we will call The Great Depression. The time discrepancy between typing and having letters appear on screen became a whopping 40 seconds. Yes, I timed it.

But that was okay, because I could still use my Dragon headset.

Until I couldn't.

It would connect, but the words wouldn't appear on screen. I made sure that all of my programs were up-to-date, and that everything was working. The headset connected to my family's computers just fine. So that meant it was something wrong with mine.

Without being sure if it was the hardware or software at fault, I backed everything up to OneDrive and Google Docs.

I factory reset.

Twice. To no avail.

Over the next few days, my laptop stopped registering any keyboard input at all. It got to a point where I wasn't able to turn it on or off.

Taking it to an electronics store to get repaired didn't help, either. No luck. They said that it would be more cost effective to just buckle down and get a new one, since the age of the laptop meant that I would probably be constantly maintaining it.

My poor Toshiba died kicking and screaming, putting up a fight worthy of an epic ballad.

I saved up for a few weeks, got a new laptop, and went through the rigmarole of getting all of my programs back on it. My files are in order. My life is in shambles (but that's normal, LOL).

I DID do some story work without my computer, but... it's bad. Like, I'd die in shame if I posted anything that I thumbed in. So. Many. Spelling. Errors. How people write on their phone is beyond me. That's a talent I simply don't possess.

At this point, I'm thinking of renaming this story "HIATUS" lol. JK. But I'm seriously peeved that this happened after my last big break. Why couldn't the Depression and laptop breakdown coincide nicely? I guess that's too much to ask of the universe *Shakes fist at the sky*.

I'm creating a damn bingo card for every stupid thing that happens to me while I try to write. Because this is getting ridiculous. I broke my fingers, there was a total solar eclipse, I had a major-ish mental breakdown, and my computer bit the big one. With a free space, that's a bingo. Let's hope I don't get a blackout before the end of 2024.

I doubted the fanfiction curse. I really did. But it's apparently real. And this writer's curse has teeth, people. It bites hard.

I have my MerMay two-shot pretty well done (because I was typing it during The Great Depression), but the next chapter for REARRANGED is still rough. Crimson Chapter 3 is halfway done, but who knows how long that'll take.

The bottom line is that I'm alive and still working on the stories. The next update on this blog will be the posting of several chapters for a few different works. Fingers crossed.

Also, I'm very, very slowly answering the comments in my AO3 inbox. Some of them were pretty lengthy, so it might take a bit. Oof.

If there ever comes a time that I drop this fanfiction or am unable to continue for whatever reason, either I or my husband will be posting the entirety of my outline, as well as anything that's been pre-written for you guys to enjoy. That way there are no questions left unanswered or mysteries unsolved.

[squarebracketsmileyface]

The gender exploration fic officially has a name now :D

It's gonna be "My Girl, My Girl, My Girl (You Will Be)" because Tim's Girl, Jay Will/could Be (eventually, they're working towards it slowly 💀) or just MGx3 (cos MG times 3 lol) for short because that's a bit of a long name and I really can't be bothered to write it out a bunch of times all the time but yay :D

I'm planning out the plot outline and chapters at the moment, which is going vaguely well, tho I'm trying to keep some kinda storyline behind it as well as it just showing what Tim and Jay get up to in their free time through August to December (cough cough their sex life through that time period). Figuring out how to keep the MH side of the story rolling is a bit tricky, because looking at the actual, irl entries, not a lot actually happens in those four months 💀

Like, Tim and Jay fight over that tape and stop working together. Jay tries to attack Tim in his home and gets ziptied. Tim goes to Benedict hall and hoody helps Jay escape. Jay goes to Benedict hall. And then it's entry 80 and Jay's dying.

Like. So little happens across all the entries uploaded, but I don't want to give them much less time and just have it that the entries were uploaded really spaced apart after the events in them happened all at once, because I wanna write a whole bunch of smut for them lol. I gotta give Jam an excuse to not just go straight to Benedict hall pretty much immediately, because like, currently? What's stopping them? Literally nothing. They could go there halfway through August and still be as well prepared for it as they were in actual MH.

They probably did go earlier than the entries were posted in irl MH didn't they lol. But I need them to have those four months to be all happy couple together, I need itttttttttttt. I also need them to have those four months so Tim can learn a bit about IIAB and knock some sense into Jay's dumb little "woe is me I am nothing but the victim" brain and set him on the road to realising that what he did was very not okay even if he genuinely thought he was in the right/doing that Alex wanted him to do even at the sacrifice of his own comfort.

COS THAT'S A THING TOO, so much of Jay's pushiness and all that in IIAB came from a place of him genuinely thinking he was doing something for Alex rather than subjecting him to it.

It feels like such a fine balance to make sure Jay isn't irredeemable. He's not malicious with anything, he's just scared of losing people by not giving them what they want, and scared of not knowing what to do to not lose someone new.

Was it stupid for him to try the choking thing with Tim when the first time he tried it caused the breakdown of his and Alex's fwb relationship? Yes. It was so fucking stupid. But Jay was scared and hey either it was going to be fine, or it'd drive Tim away rather than letting him be the one to leave and Jay was still rather in the mindset of thinking Tim would leave him at some point and he couldn't stand the thought of that. It'd be much less painful if he drove Tim away.

He still kinda thinks that honestly.

Doing that kinda thing to get what he wanted from Alex had worked and been 'fine' every time up until Jay actually put himself in harms way with it. So like, he didn't exactly put two and two together while he was freaking out a bit with Tim.

Also with how it went with Alex that last time, Jay was still vehemently ignoring that he was even somewhat at fault for that fwb relationship ending. Sure he knew he'd done something wrong, but he refused to figure out exactly what and actually think about what that meant for himself. Alex never told him what he did so it was a lot easier to blame Alex and hate him rather than actually look at himself and his actions. It was also easier to think of it more as Amy taking Alex away from him, or poisoning Alex against him than to think that he was actually the reason for Alex finally telling him to fuck off.

No one wants to think they've done that. No one wants to think maybe they pushed for something someone doesn't want to do a little too hard, and really really hurt that person who they care about deeply.

Then there's the whole thing that a lot of what Jay did in uni, he also wasn't super comfy with? He was just so completely convinced it was what Alex wanted because of all their previous interactions. Then he got it so in his head that when Alex said he *didn't* Jay just couldn't wrap his head around it and assumed Alex was making *himself* uncomfy in order to try and cater to Jay's crush on him, and Jay much preferred being uncomfortable himself than making Alex uncomfortable.

And that's what he saw it as. He saw it as him sacrificing his own comfort for Alex's a lot of the time. Like, yes. He enjoyed the rougher sex and all that and they had a lot of times that I haven't actually specifically written where they just had fun with it and enjoyed it a hell of a lot. Most of their uni relationship wasn't bad. Most of their uni relationship was just kinda fine. Not great, neither of them were completely happy with it, but it wasn't the level of toxic that it could be all the time.

[lithugraph]

What’s been new in writing? / Talk about a WIP you’re working on!

Oooh that’s a big ask, lol!

The thing I am most actively writing right now is the next chapter of The Book Smuggler. I’m about halfway through it. The fic as a whole is so close to being done, but I also have other projects/ideas I’m working on and will place them below the cut:

Hetalia

Other than The Book Smuggler, I also have been slowly working on the next chapter of Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea. Again, it’s another one that is almost done — maybe 1-2 more chapters. And I think if I don’t finish it before I finish The Book Smuggler, it will be my next priority to try and wrap up.

I’m working on the outline for a boxer!AU featuring PruAus, with a side of Spaus and maybe some Prumano?? It was inspired by @edel-scribe’s boxer!au. Posting my moodboard because I love visuals:

Once the other two are wrapped, I think this will be my next project. That, and continuing to write We Are Not Ourselves 😅.

Vikings

Savages: I’ve been tossing around the idea of a one-shot featuring Athelstan, Aethelwulf, and king Ecbert following Athelstan’s time in Wessex after the crucifixion scene.

Star Wars/The Bad Batch

Mors Tua, Vita Mea: Writing a fix it fic of sorts…aka how I think the last season should have gone.

Star Trek: Discovery

King of Fools: One-shot featuring Ruon Tarka and Osyraa. How he was captured by the Emerald Chain and his betrayal of Oros.

[crystal-overdrive]

Hey, for the fic writing asks - ✅, 💕 and 📚 please :)

✅ List one or two favourite lines you’ve written and explain why they’re your favourite.

Tav Ammakyl was dead. Long live Rina Gortash, Archduchess of Baldur’s Gate.

There's no line level beauty to this, but there was no other way to end Towards Tyranny. I had this in the back of my mind from nearly the very beginning, and I knew it had to be my last line. The name as a metaphor for allowing Gortash to change Tavarina was such a heavy lifter in this fic, with it also working on a plot and worldbuilding level when I introduced the Baneite church.

Those lights were not an invitation. They were a warning, like POST-failure LEDs blinking out a message: error 2, social anxiety overload.

For funsies I thought I'd post a line from a new fic I've just started writing! This is from a Baldur's Gate modern tech AU, and something I really enjoy doing is trying to match similes and metaphors to the genre or subject of the piece.

💕What's your favourite part of your writing process?

This is going to make me sound so lame, but the consistency. I am really proud of my ability to stick to a schedule, to execute what I planned and to get things out on time.

In terms of what I enjoy, my favourite part is definitely what my partner and I call "watching TV", which is when I go to bed an hour early and just lie there and daydream the next scene. It sounds silly, but it is a genuinely helpful writing technique. Scenes I've done this with feel easier to write because I'm just looking for the words, not the action. I do outline, but it's at a high level (and often changes), so this is sort of the next step from just a line on a beat sheet for a scene or chapter.

📚Do you ever read similar works while writing, or do you intentionally not read them? This is different for fics and original work, actually! For originals I read in the genre I'm working in to make sure my tone fits and I understand which genre elements I want to include, omit or subvert. I've just started a new job and I'm spending a lot of time right now looking at comparable media to get a feel for what the team are after.

For fic, I had to stop reading other Gortash stuff once I was about halfway through Towards Tyranny. I kept thinking "but he wouldn't do that!", when really I meant "my version of him wouldn't do that." I think with a character like Gortash who doesn't actually have a great deal of screentime, headcannon characterisation can vary quite a bit, and that makes reading other people's fic difficult, either because I'm doing the above, or their characterisation is seeping into my own, and I'm wondering why things feel off.

[mcsquared789]

Update at End of May

Right, it’s been a while since I gave you guys an update. So I figure I will outline what the schedule looks like for the next slate of projects! On an essential level, things are looking really promising for wrapping up Phase 1 way before the end of the year... but we'll see. It all depends on whether I can be prepared with a good backlog of chapters.

So, here’s the rub:

Widowmaker: This was finished well over a week or so ago, and now it’s probably my biggest fic so far other than Iron Man and Hulk??? Not surprising, since sequels require a lot of context and this is... actually a really good entry point into the series. To that end, I am super happy with it — and will definitely be making more of these novella-length fics that focus on original/interim stories. I think they will balance the other fics with more stakes and more complicated plots, and the one-shots as well.

Thor: That leads me to my current project, Thor! I am in the swing of this, and having a blast — writing Jane, Erik and Darcy has been lots of fun. And I am also writing chapters from Loki's POV which have been really interesting, to say the least... hopefully, it's a nice, appropriately tortured perspective. (Can't wait for you Loki lovers to read them. 😉)

Starting in June, I plan to upload chapters regularly every three or four days — and aim to have this fic completed by the end of the month, or somewhere halfway through July. Act I is fully completed out of a planned five, and has seven chapters. As a teaser of what to expect: Act II will have six chapters, Act III will have five, Act IV will have seven and Act V will have eight. (A little uncertain on that last one, but again — we shall see.)

I am really looking forward to you guys seeing where this will go! It will be familiar, I admit. But hopefully, fresh and exciting at the same time, as there will be lots of little changes that might sprout out into big changes... but you will see how it all shapes together when I get back to it in June.

Which leads me to the next project — and the last big one before The Avengers.

Captain America: The First Avenger. Yep, I'm finally getting around to it — and considering how popular Captain America is in particular, I suspect this will find a lot of people. It will be a little dark and gritty, but also with a hint of science fiction that has made this subseries in particular so interesting... but I won't say anymore until it starts getting posted. I'm hoping that will be in the second half of June once I've written enough chapters, and then be completed after July. From then on... we'll see about where Steve Rogers goes next.

As well, I also will be working on two one-shots after both these projects... and one of them will lead directly into Avengers. But I'll talk more about that later. 😁

Alright, I think that's everything! Thank you all for being followers and catching up with what I'm doing. It's not really summer where I am, but I hope there will be enough here to create an exciting summer for you. See you soon!

— (M)

[anogete]

Snape/Hermione WIP Status, Art Commission

I have a working title, but I'm not ready to share it just yet. I want to sit with it for a bit before I decide.

I've written seven chapters and am about halfway through the eighth. I've also completed an initial revision of the first five.

Yesterday evening, I created a rough outline of the remainder of the fic with notes about specific scenes that need to happen along the way. Based on this, I suspect the fic will probably be around 25 chapters, give or take. That means likely 110-125k words, which is typical of my writing these days.

I have a couple beta volunteers to whom I'll be sending the first five chapters after I have time to look them over once more. As long as life doesn't get in the way, I think I should be able to complete the first draft by early-February and hopefully start posting shortly after. Which is funny because the bulk of the story takes place in February and March. Right on time.

Stay tuned in the coming few weeks for some inspo pics, excerpts, and maybe even cover art if I can figure out how to work Canva. I'm also on the hunt for an artist or two who would be open to a commission from me. If you have a fav artist who does commissions, please send me a link to their work so I can take a look.

[ssa-dado]

Pre-exam IQIWIANQLQPL, Chapter 21 updates and a desperate writer begging for your opinións (Help me, I'm spiraling 🤌🤖)

Hi lovely humans!

Long post ahead with lots of updates, so buckle up 🏎🏎🏎🏎

I’m temporarily rising from the dead to drop some info bombs! 👯‍♀️👯‍♀️👯‍♀️👯‍♀️ This week is pre-exam chaos central for me (two major reviews: one on Wednesday and one on Thursday), so I’ll only be sporadically active for a few minutes here and there. Wish me luck hahahahahhaha (I want to di*)

Now, onto the fun stuff: I have an ask about philosophy that I’ve been dying to answer for weeks (seriously, I’m so exciteddddd AAAAA) I’ve been working on some notes and promise to carve out a bit of time for a detailed, exhaustive response...... it’s going to be so much fun (warning: I might get a little overly talkative and probably a bit technical but I'll do my best to make it user-friendly)

Chapter 21 Updates:

I’m actually more than halfway through the chapter! If all goes well, it should drop this weekend (lessons wrap up Thursday, so yay, more writing time!). No more waiting 71,718 days for a new chapter!!!! WE CAN START CELEBRATING YEEE HAWWW LET THE BANQUET BEGIN! 🍝🍷🧃🍅🥖🥗🧀🍽

When I say “halfway through,” I mean I’m halfway through the outline I had in mind 🙃

If I stick to it, we’re finally looking at a decently sized chapter (10k-12k words - bye bye 20k monstrosities). These chapters have been trickier to draft because as you've seen they’re so heavily focused on Hotch (we’ve been spending way more time in his POV than Teach's. I love doing it idk why)

Idk if I've said it before (probably I did) but in a way, these last Act 2 chapters are a love letter to him, as each one (Logic, Physics, Ethics, and Logos) is designed to dismantle the idea of him as a stoic, using events and narrative to challenge the principles of stoic philosophy. Some heavy character development going on (because poor man he gets a divorce and also the girl he fucks with fucking explodes lmao)

But enough philosophy rambling.......you’re probably here for plot details, right? 👁👁

Right?!

Left?!

OK enough with those dad jokes

So, Chapter 21 follows the events of Criminal Minds episodes 3x09 through 3x11 (do with this information what you will). The title, Physics, is inspired by the Stoic’s highly deterministic view of the universe, where fate plays a central role.

(Hint: if you’re curious about this, check out the colors of Symposium moodboard... pay special attention to the color black 👹👹👹 Remember that both characters were involved in that case back then... just saying.)

The chapter will also include a flashback that ties directly into the present and impacts Hotch’s character. Most importantly, it will push SOMEONE toward figuring out how they really feel about a certain SOMEONE (yes, I mean Gissi or maybe not)

Help this poor lovely human being

As the story progresses, I’ve started to feel more pressure (in a good way don’t worry!!!!!) to deliver what you want to see. So, tell me, what parts interest you the most? What do you enjoy reading? This way, I can focus more on those elements and cut down on others.

Speaking of which, a while back, I wrote a scene set right after the last chapter where Aaron takes the reader out following their breakup with Peter. I was in a super fluffy, bantery mood, so naturally, I had him take them to a traditional Italian restaurant, complete with the classic nosey Italian staff 🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌 (I’m Italian, so I get a free pass on the stereotype, ty). Of course, the staff assumes they’re a couple (what a shame, really), and the two totally lean into it, turning it into one of their lawyer/philosopher-style challenges, only this time with some added hand touches and overly exaggerated flirts purely for the sake of the game (they’re still fun to read I swear)

It’s a trope I love reading, and I couldn’t resist writing it into this universe with these blind af characters.

But drumroll please 🎺🎺🎺🎺 I ended up cutting it because it was just cute fluff and didn’t really serve the plot. Typical me: I get so carried away with the pining and banter that even a "short" scene spirals into a 3k-word detour. Classic Phi.

I wanted to keep it to myself, but maybe you might want to read it as well! So I'm actually debating whether to put it back at the beginning of Chapter 21 (though the current opening feels right), or post it as a standalone one-shot preview, like a “Chapter 20.1.”

What do you think? Should I include it, or save it as a fun bonus chapter?

Also, while you’re waiting for the chapter, would you want to see any more WIPs, or would you rather experience everything as a whole when it’s done?

Alright, enough rambling and people-pleasing for today, I’m off to write 🏌‍♀️🏌‍♀️🏌‍♀️ Sending lots of love! 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Phi (& Dado, the one and only chairman of the blog)

[huntingteeth]

Hi! Workin’ on any new fics lately? Love seeing what’s going on in your brain lol

omg that’s so flattering what

HM i don't know if i’m working on anything NEW necessarily, but i don’t mind gabbing about the wips i am working on:

1. chapter 5 of i’m yours in the end — i’m only about halfway through the first scene of this chapter and it’s a little angsty so far whoops

2. sleep token gravity falls au — this truly is just a blank doc so far but it’s a titled doc so i’m counting it as a wip! i’m thinking vessel runs the mystery shack, sleep is the equivalent of bill cipher, and then ii, iii, and iv either work at the mystery shack or are members of the town IDK we’re workshopping

3. chapter 2 of first to the feast — this is around 2.2k so far!! all the chapters are outlined in a physical notebook lmao but it’s uh got an intricate plot line which is why things are moving so slowly lmao. also it’s kind of a mixed media fic which is a little difficult to do on a phone and not a laptop

4. chapter 2 of ghost brawl 2k25 — ok so fun fact about this fic is that it was originally a winter soldier fic that i never ended up posting and i’m not in that fandom really anymore but i freaking KNEW it was a banger so i retooled it for sleep token lmao. i know where this chapter is going but i haven’t started writing it lmao

5. chapter 4 of when i open my eyes to the future — I’M WORKING ON IT PROMISE lmao the snag is that i haven’t figured out what iii’s stall is going to be whoops

6. a yugioh fic — lmao it’s ryou/yami bakura, with a dark!ryou perspective where he’s been in on yami bakura’s plan the entire time lol. it’s like short vignettes that are loosely connected so it feels dreamy lol

7. a stranger things wip — a magical au (lmao) where max is being haunted by billy’s ghost and they have to do something about it. steve is maybe psychic, robin is maybe a changeling, and it’s very focused on max, her best friend mike (lmao), and her better friend, el, who lives in the forest and is maybe a fairy.

8. a fantasy high wip - this is fucking wild lmao. kristen wants to have a vacation bible school style summer camp for cassandra the summer after junior year but it’s really a story about the feeling of when you’re a teenager and you feel like you’re too much and too annoying and it would be better if there was less of you

THAT’S IT, THAT’S WHAT I’M WORKING ON :)

[anonymouslydeadactuallywrites]

Collecting Hannigram Fic That I Like For Future Ref #1

Pavlova - Chapter 1 - nbcravenstag - Hannibal (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Pavlova by nbcravenstag is a fantastic au where Will was pole dancer in his past and has to resume his place as one for a case. I love how the team's dynamic is written so jovially about the whole situation. Their possessive!Hannibal is delightful. And, Will when he is performing its a perfect show of how fun a confident will is. 10/10

Like a Lucid Dream - Chapter 1 - Hiding Now (HidingNow) - Hannibal (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Like A Lucid Dream by Hiding Now (HidingNow) is such a good post fall fic. It has my favorite trope of Will and Hannibal writing each other while Hannibal's in prison and I love the insight that brings to Will's characterization. It's full of fun twists and turns and has the most delightfully feral Will. 10/10 totally recommend.

perda de memória - bleakmidwinter - Hannibal (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Perda de Memoria by bleakmidwinter is another excellent post fall fic with hannibal losing his memories. The emotional rollarcoaster that Will goes through along this fic had me wanting to cry. 10/10 good prose

A Faint Glimmer - berlynn_wohl - Hannibal (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

A Faint Glimmer by berlynn_wohl is smut with demi!Will. I love ace fics with my hannigram and this one does not disappoint! I like how the fic handles Will's sexuality, laying down his history with it and how it affects his character, along with delivering good smut. 10/10

Beauty Not Needed Here - krabellen - Hannibal (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Beauty Not Needed Here by krabellen delivers another good ace fic! This one is an ace!Hannibal fic. I love how vulnerable it paints Hannibal, how open he acts with Will post fall, and the snuggles are cute. 10/10

The New Arrangement - viaorel - Hannibal (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

The New Arrangement by viaorel has a fic with Mischa and Will being buddies at the FBI Academy when Will runs into Mischa's weird brother. I love this fic for the Mischa/Will friendship along with all the details that are fun to look at like Hannibal being a (gasp) vegan in this one. Mischa is also a sassy lil shit in this fic and its delightful.

Leave Your Message after the Tone - OneWhoSitsWithTurtles - Hannibal (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Leave Your Message after the Tone by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles is a delicious fic. I love the premise of Will calling Hannibal's cell to hear his voice while hes imprisoned and leaving messages. It's just good shit. 10/10

Axiom - BattyMadison - Hannibal (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Axiom by BattyMadison deliciously outlines Will's pain throughout this series and lets him spit that in Hannibal's face while also letting them reconcile. Will also fucks off to Alaska like Eve and Villainelle should've What more could you want? 10./10

Five Times Hannibal Visits Will and One Time He's Already Home (or: Coffee Cake) - Chapter 1 - bones_2_be - Hannibal (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Coffee Cake by bones_2_be is such a cozy fucking fic. I love it so much. Most of the fic is Hannibal showing up at Will's house when he can after he ran off post Verger Farm, and its so domestic and funnn.

Rewind for a Better Tomorrow - Chapter 1 - loptrl - Hannibal (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Time travel fic! Rewind for a Better Tomorrow by loptrl is so fucking good at giving a Hannibal who loves his man enough to figure out time travel and fix it so Will doesn't suffer as much. So sweet. So good. The twist halfway through is the best. 10/10

when memories snow (when memories melt) - antiheroblake - Hannibal (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Oh I love this fic by antiheroblake. It's hurt/comfort postfall where Will gets sick with pneumonia but doesn't want Hannibal to fuss over him since Hannibal gave him a bunh of medical trauma. It hurts but its goood 10/10

A Christmas to Remember - Chapter 1 - EarthsickWithoutYou - Hannibal (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Hallmark Christmas but Hannigram. Thats it and its goood man. Hannigram got together and divorced but run into each other again when they show up at the same resort for Christmas with new partners where Santa conspires to set them up again. 10/10

[tothelasthoursofmylife]

Making of "Locomotive Run" and "Destruction"

As requested, some insight into my writing process. This is just how I write the WotQ chapters, and it works for me. Whatever works for you is the "correct" way of writing!

I'll talk about each general writing step, but as I also talk about the chapters (with a lot of "what could have been"s!), it's better to have read them first. I initially only wanted to focus on Destruction, but as I suffered through Locomotive Run so much, I decided to use it as an example too. (I also mention other chapters a bit as well.)

As always, this post is a bit messy, sorry!

Step 0: Outline

Unlike the first three arcs, I thoroughly outlined this current one before I wrote it. Previously, my outlines consisted of only a few short sentences – if at all^^’ Take the first arc:

If I had died halfway through the arc, no one would have been able to finish it for me orz Absolutely nothing on the actual mission in that outline! The third arc ended up, I think, a bit disjointed too because I still hadn’t done any proper outlines at that time (I did outlines for some of its chapters, but not for the complete arc). It was mostly only a few descriptive sentences and some random snippets, all hot-glued vaguely in my mind.

With this arc, I decided to take outlining seriously because I wanted to include A LOT in this arc, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to figure out a way to make everything fit otherwise.

I write my outlines by hand because I think that’s easier to do, it’s nicer to “brainstorm” with pen and paper for me, and I can place the paper next to me as I write the chapter instead of switching documents all the time on my laptop. The paper can become rather messy though if a lot is going on. (That was the case for Nebulous, uff.) Because of the very finicky nature of the “village fight” chapters, I outlined that bit in a Word document too, so it was easier to shift around the times and events; doing that on a piece of paper would have rendered it quite illegible…

My outlines are not super extensive or lengthy though. I just fold a piece of paper, dedicate one half to one chapter, and write down bullet points of all the important things I want to/have to include in that particular chapter. I try to put them in sequence too, but it’s basically just a somewhat disjointed list of key events and nothing more.

For Locomotive Run, the list of stuff that needs/should be in it looked a bit like this:

Finding them on the train

They get Florentin back

Milton gets the box; bargain with Yvette to exchange the box for Jacques

Kamden gets attacked

Milton protects Newman by grabbing the dagger (Yvette got her hands on it before)

Cedric gets thrown off the train

Townsend and Yvette separate the locomotive from the wagons

Braking and the engine catches fire

Helping people on the train

Hurrying to the Paris train station

Chaos in Paris?!

And for Destruction, it looked a bit like this:

Chaos at the station; Quentin got hurt, and Kamden helps him

How to find Yvette and Townsend now?? -> the transmitters

Aurèle, Kamden, and Jacques go to Cecelia’s house

Cloudia goes after Yvette

Milton and Cedric go after Townsend (previously, Cedric was meant to go with Cloudia, but I thought it was better to split them up so that they could communicate via the necklaces; I also needed a POV character with Milton)

Milton and Cedric catch Townsend

Oscar arrives

Milton faints

Oscar brings Milton and Townsend to Cecelia’s house

Cedric teleports to Cloudia (with the necklaces’ help)

Chaotic fight -> Yvette stabs Cloudia

Cedric brings Cloudia to Cecelia’s house

(I cannot show pictures of the outlines, sorry!)

I keep the outlines for the flashback bits on separate papers (with the two flashback storylines kept separate too, of course) to oversee them better because they need to fit together amongst themselves after all and not with the main storyline. For Affection, they were “Barrington visits without notice and gets mad” and “Cloudia talks to Cecelia and meets up with Kamden.” For Locomotive Run, it was “Oscar’s hate for Rowan,” and for Destruction, they were “Cloudia meets with Rowan and AoE meeting -> Oscar is now more hostile to Barrington” and “Cloudia disguises herself and goes to Salisbury HQ; they meet up and talk.”

With how skeletal my outlines are, I think, if I were to die, still no one would be able to figure out what exactly I mean/want to do with my bullet points^^’ But they wouldn’t be as lost as before, at least. Hurrah?

When I have the outline, I begin to write.

Step 1: Draft

Writing the first draft can either take several days or several months for me to complete, as you know^^’ I finished Mystery in three days (draft and revision), but that was a comparatively “short” chapter. There was a gap of seven months between Ecstasy and Locomotive Run orz

Finishing the draft is important, no matter how teeth-clenching and hair-pulling it is, no matter how long it takes. I need to get it done or nothing can continue.

Reading the above bullet points, I’m sure you were a bit puzzled by some things. No worries, your memory hasn’t worsened! Things just change between each step.

For example, I (re-)outlined all chapters in one or two days. That was a few years ago by now! Going through the arc’s events in my head again and again in that time span, I get new ideas, switch things around, and discard others. And while writing the chapters, things get changed too. After all, I have no set plan for how to get from bullet point to bullet point; I just fill out the gaps as I go, and sometimes I realise that things don’t work out as I planned them while I write a chapter. Or writing the chapter just leads me elsewhere unexpectedly. Or the word count gets super long and I have to split it last-minute (e.g. Affection and Locomotive Run). Or I realise things while writing that make me have to reconsider things. Etc.

Locomotive Run is (one of) the “things didn’t work out as I wanted them to” chapters because, as I already cried in that chapter’s notes, train logistics are just awful to figure out orz That doesn’t mean nothing worked out as I wanted to (you can recognise stuff from the above outline after all), of course.

For example, the attack on Kamden was scrapped because there was no way it could fit into Locomotive Run. I would have to make him move through the train for that after all, and there were already too many people moving around, and I doubt Kamden would have even managed that. Having him attacked in the starter wagon wouldn’t work either because I needed him to be alone for that attack and for Milton to be the one who saves him in a particular way; otherwise, that incident would lose its purpose. So, I had to push it back to Destruction and have Kamden get attacked outside the train instead.

Cedric was also meant to see Milton grabbing the dagger to protect Newman, but that didn’t work out logistically either, and he could only start seeing the scene unfold at a slightly later time point (Milton attacking Yvette).

Florentin ended up not being in that chapter at all because it shouldn’t be that easy to get him or the box(es) after all! Florentin also had to stick to Townsend who was always meant to be in the locomotive; they would have never had an opportunity to get him beforehand.

The chapter was also meant to end with the characters realising that something is going on in Paris, as they were always supposed to arrive there at around 12 a.m. (the time when the Uprising started). It wouldn’t make sense for the city’s chaos to become noticeable for them that early though, and ending the chapter with “just” an explosion and a chase was enough already.

The box replica was a very last-minute idea I had while struggling through Locomotive Run’s first draft. I was a bit unsure whether to include it or not (was it too much? would it work? etc.), but I tried to make it work – and it did in the end! Without the replica, there would have been no proper reason to go after Yvette after all, as she’s not the mission’s target.

Between outlining and writing Destruction, a lot had changed. (I usually don’t bother updating my written outline then, only my “internal” one.)

I didn’t consider Cloudia’s special corset when I decided for Yvette to stab Cloudia. I wrote Ecstasy, dressed Cloudia in that corset, and went “dammit!” The corset would have protected her from a knife; to injure Cloudia as much as I wanted her to, Yvette would have to stab her from above, hitting the part that wasn’t protected by the corset. And that would have been a bit too close to Cloudia’s heart! The solution was to switch out the knife wound with a bullet wound because the corset was never meant to be bulletproof. (And that’s why I pointed just that out in the tags here, hehe.)

Cloudia’s corset is based on the titular item of The Girl with the Steel Corset. For that reason, I sometimes catch myself thinking of it as a “steel corset” when it’s not. I ensured there would be no (accidental) mention of the special corset as a steel corset, so no one could get at me with “why isn’t it bulletproof then??”

I had also finalised some stuff regarding Milton in the meantime. Because of that, it would have been near impossible for him to chase down Townsend mostly on his own. I also wanted Cloudia to be the one after all, especially with how the second part of that chase ends. Further, Milton was meant to have two radio receivers and distribute them between himself (with Cedric) and Cloudia. Unlike in the finished chapter where he can’t tell which dot is for which transmitter, he would have known which receiver was connected to which transmitter (he had handed them out after all). Purposefully giving Cloudia the receiver for Yvette while keeping Townsend for himself was also a very un-Milton thing to do. (He would have to be forced to do something like that.) Two receivers became one, and they all stayed together instead which fit the characters and the situation much better.

Barrington had to be included too, of course, as he wouldn’t leave Oscar unsupervised unless absolutely necessary.

Cedric didn’t reach Cecelia’s house with Cloudia in the end because leaving them stranded ended up being the better decision in the end.^^

Further, as I said earlier, I fill out the gaps between key events as I write. For example, the “building jump” was thrown in as I wrote the chapter. (I wrote the last uh 6k, 7k words or so of the main timeline at once because I was on a kick, so if the “building jump” part sounds a bit loopy, that’s the reason. You could call it method writing.) While this works fine for me, it also tends to run me against walls because I don’t know how to proceed.

For example, I knew that, in the 1846 flashback, Cloudia would go and see Milton in the Salisbury HQ. I wrote out that part a few years ago, actually. I didn’t, however, know beforehand what would come after Cloudia left that waiting room. I really struggled to figure out what they could talk about. Should I switch around the conversations (take something for later for this)? Or would that be an odd order?

And then I realised that I didn’t have to find a conversation after all because it felt so more fitting for Cloudia not to know either. She and Milton are both rather awkward in that aspect, and the situation is so weird after all. Of course, it would be odd! Of course, both of them wouldn’t really know what to say. And then I let them walk instead, and everything fell into place <3

I usually try writing a chapter from its beginning to its end, but I do jump between the three timelines if I find myself in a corner, unable to continue. I think, apart from starting the chapter, that conversation was the only major “blockage” I had while writing Destruction. I temporarily let it be and jumped to 1843 before I finally figured out the scene. Everything else flowed well, more or less.

When I finish the draft, I don’t usually start revisions right away. I take a day “off,” both to distance myself from the chapter to refill my energy and to think the chapter through in my head again. “Does this work?” “What can I change?” etc.

Step 2: First revision

The draft is always written with a “just get something done!!” mentality (though I do keep going back and revising after myself too). As a result, it will be rather jumbled and is never ready to be uploaded in that state. For example, I sometimes change ideas mid-draft or remember something I forgot mid-draft. I forgot to make Cloudia lose the dagger in the first draft of Locomotive Run. Still, she didn’t have it in the last parts of the chapter because I remembered halfway through that she wasn’t supposed to have it anymore and just kept writing without the dagger. I had to fix that mistake in the first revision round, or it would have been very confusing why she has it in one scene and not anymore in the next.

The checklist for first revisions is (more or less):

Fixing continuity errors within the chapter

Fixing continuity errors within the entire story

Cleaning up and correcting fickle things like time designations and character positioning

Looking up the correct terms for things

Some more research and contingent fixes

(Rewriting sentences to make them “nicer,” clearer, etc.)

Incorporating things I forgot and things I thought about later on

Some more research and contingent fixes

Of course, I do some research before I start writing a chapter, but, as I noted in Destruction's extended endnotes, sometimes it's better to look into stuff again for retouches.

For Destruction's 1846 flashback, I made a little "cheat sheet" of mourning customs a few years ago, and I was very happy to finally be able to pull it out and use it!

(I'm, however, not quite sure about the "social customs count for men too, even if 'clothes' customs are not the same!" thing, as men just had to follow very few rules in comparison. The first bullet point for men even says "not many rules." Sites also sometimes give varying information, so that's that too.)

I didn't do any further research on mourning as a result.

What I did last-minute research on was Cloudia's wound. My search history didn't look good that day.

In the draft, the bullet didn't pass through Cloudia but got stuck. After looking up things, I learned that you can survive a gunshot to the abdomen better if you a) get treated quickly (*cough*), b) don't have the bullet inside you, as infections are more problematic than blood loss. (And it's not like Cedric knows how to/can remove the bullet.)

(I have to add here that I am, for whatever reason, super squirmish when it comes to researching such things. My mind can handle it, but my body physically rejects me reading/watching/hearing about anything medical (in detail). E.g., I can watch some serial killer cut open a body without a problem, but I cannot watch a doctor cut open a person in a nice, clean hospital setting. It's very annoying orz (The video I linked in the Locomotive Run endnotes was a rough watch already for me.)

So if you ever wondered why Milton's hereditary heart problem is kept as vaguely as it is, that's part of the reason. I can't do much research into it before my body just says "NO." His heart problem isn't an issue anyway...)

So after doing some faint research on that topic, I rewrote that part too.

I also looked up again if you can walk atop a moving train. Yes, but the wind makes things difficult. (Milton has, amongst others, some weird practice though...)

Incorporating things I forgot and things I thought about later on

For the last part of the above list, I write a little list of everything I need/want to fix in the revision. Here are the lists for Locomotive Run and Destruction (which ended up, conveniently, on the same page, yey; and there are no spoiler things too!).

As you can see, the notes include

little details I had to change (e.g. “Milton removes belt” -> it would have been odd if Yvette had accepted him with it)

more major rewrites (e.g. Aurèle’s wound; the first fired bullet of the chapter initially did not hit anyone. It would not make any sense for Aurèle to just stay behind when his brother was in danger, and he was meant to move through the train too, albeit starting a bit later than the others like Newman. However, Aurèle was just one character too many on that train, so I had to have him get shot to have a reason why he couldn’t move through the train. Shot for my convenience, sorry!)

and things that didn’t make it into the chapter after all (e.g. “Q says Y took his gun” -> Yvette was initially set to steal Quentin’s gun and shoot Cloudia with it later on; I only forgot for Quentin to tell everyone about the theft (he only tried to say it but kept getting cut off) and, thus, noted down to insert it later. While writing the chapter, however, Yvette grabbing Cloudia’s gun instead felt more natural, so I scrapped the gun theft and removed the traces of that idea during the revision).

Some more explanations of the bullet points:

In Locomotive Run, Cedric initially witnessed the box ruse with Milton and Yvette through an intact door/window. I thought the door would be thin enough for him to be able to hear enough, but I later changed my mind. It would have been too silly, so I shattered the window to make things more probable.

(I also read a book last year that had people eavesdrop through a closed door and still be able to hear every word perfectly clearly (and even see the talking parties’ motions in detail). The people they were eavesdropping on were not even standing in front of the door but several metres away! I didn't want to do that same stuff myself. The least a shit book can do is make you hate something so much, you avoid doing the same dumb thing with your own writing.)

In Destruction, there were French Reapers in the first draft already. The note is only there to remind me to make Cedric think of them a bit more; I ended up inserting that bit when he and Milton have their little “pause.”

Cloudia entered the bakery and saw the sweet bread in the first draft too. I was unsure whether she should give one to Cedric (I had two variants: She either runs back into the bakery when they stand outside to grab one, or she takes one when she’s in the bakery for the first (and only) time), but ultimately decided to do it.

The dagger fell to the ground when Yvette got away. I forgot to make Cedric pick it up in the first draft and fixed that later on; the dagger would have been lost (forever) otherwise!

Further, I had to fix all time designations in the 1846 Destruction flashback to make them make sense; while writing I just threw in some numbers without care. (As I mentioned the Hanged Men Case all the way back in Captured already, I had to make sure I kept that case at its length of exactly 15 days. (Why tf was I so specific back then??? orz) So, Cloudia is going to finish that case not long after the walk :))

That was rather easy to do, unlike the time designations in Locomotive Run.

After all, that chapter still had “the countdown”!

I wrote the draft uncaring about the times but then scrambled to fix the times in the revision. In the draft, Cloudia and Cedric talk through the necklaces right after Cloudia kills the woman who knocked on the compartment doors. He would then inform her about Yvette having the box, and she would get surprised when she sees Townsend with a box too. When I went to fix the times, I realised that the box ruse would have to happen at the exact same time as Cloudia reaching the woman. Thus, I had to remove that conversation, and Cloudia now wouldn’t find out about the two boxes until Destruction.

I also made a little drawing of the train to keep track of everyone’s movements on it orz The train initially had one locomotive and nine wagons, but I ended up cutting one wagon because I couldn’t take it anymore. (Nothing happened in it anyway!) I didn’t even want to have that many wagons; it just ended up like that while writing. This wasn't supposed to be a literal Mugen Train after all.

(The last version of that little drawing. The previous ones are all horribly messy.)

Lastly, while going through the first round of revision, I write a list of every POV switch (or major scene breaks within one POV) with a few notes on what happens in that part to get a better overview/to keep better track of everything. I then tick off the parts I finished editing while going through the first and second rounds of revisions.

I usually don’t realise how often the POVs change as I write. Locomotive Run is segmented into 17 parts, and Destruction into 16. That “segment” list was especially helpful for Mimes with the many timeline switches!

They are usually kept neatly like Destruction's:

And then there’s Locomotive Run’s. It was a tough chapter.

Step 3: Another round of revisions

This round of revisions is mainly to fix the chapter on a more “surface” level. I usually don’t add more scenes (unless I think of something very last-minute, or still forgot something important) in this round; instead, I concentrate on fixing up the sentences.

I take my time with the first big revision round because, usually, a lot needs to be fixed, added, cleaned up, etc. in that part and I want to be thorough. For the second (and final) round of revisions, I try to get through the chapter in a short time span, one or two days, so that I can catch smaller continuity mistakes or word repetitions more easily. If I took longer, it’s more likely that I forget that a character said X on page 1 and then said a contradictory Y on page 20 or so. If I do it back-to-back, it’s all fresh in my mind. (That makes this round also rather tedious because my chapters are so long orz but it’s better to do it that way, for me.)

I cut up longer sentences into smaller ones too, and change wordings to make things clearer. In Ecstasy, when Milton speaks about finding Townsend's Paris base, the one cooperative henchman didn't have a name at first, but as there were so many nameless people involved in Milton's recounting, I randomly named him "Miller" to make things clearer/easier to read.

I also tend to use the same sentence structures (a lot of “but” sentences, a lot starting with “And,” etc.) and I try to clean that up with more variety. Or use the same phrasings (especially for things like Milton fidgeting/fumbling/playing with/tugging on/etc. his sleeves). Or the same words (after using coach and wagon a lot in Locomotive Run, I remembered it can be called a “carriage” too, so I mixed that into the text too; you can also see some of my thesaurus lists in the Locomotive Run segment list above!). I’m also extra vigilant about typos in this revision round.

Sometimes when I have already stared at sentences and fixed them up a lot while drafting (as, when I hit a wall and don’t know how to continue, I begin at the start of the passage/chapter again and work my way through it; I edited the first two wagon bits in Locomotive Run too many times to count) and during first revisions, I forgo this second round.

Step 4: Finishing up

After all edits are done, I turn on Grammarly (I just use the free version), and Grammarly treats me like an idiot with me messing up prepositions and whatnot. It also helps catch some more typos.

And when the Grammarly check-up is done, I remember I haven’t made a terrible cover yet, so I die a little inside (“Why tf did I even decide to do this in the first place???”) and open up Gimp to massacre some image. And then I upload the chapter everywhere.

And the next day, or even some hours later, I realise some mistake and fix that quietly, cough.

------------------------------------------------------

Bonus: Initial versions and deleted scenes

Cloudia and Cedric’s removed conversation in Locomotive Run

~Cloudia~

Commotion, commotion, commotion.

Each wagon was a chaotic wreck, and Cloudia was tired of pushing and shoving her way through the masses and narrow corridors. Thus, when she finally spotted the woman who had caused all that, Cloudia wished she still had the dagger and didn’t have to cut her throat with an ordinary knife.

At least, when the woman spotted her, she turned in panic and tried to run, only to be held back by passengers.

She only reached the door when Cloudia slammed her against it, holding the cold blade against her neck. “Interesting, isn’t it? How things can turn out to be,” whispered Cloudia into her ear, first in French, then in English for good measure, before she slid the knife across her throat like a violinist drew a bow along the strings of their instrument. Instead of a melody, her action only coaxed gasped and screams out of the passengers who tried to pry her off the woman.

“Murderer, murderer, murderer,” they called her. Cloudia simply yanked herself free from their grips, wiped the knife on her clothes, and moved on to the next coach. The repetition followed her, and Cloudia thought as she was mid-air between wagons, that it might have been a melody if not for the other expletives thrown into the chant.

However, as soon as Cloudia’s boots touched the metal platform did the thought vanish from her mind, did the adrenaline from killing the woman deplete. All her energy and attention were taken away by a little voice in her head.

Yvette is making her way to you.

Cloudia was glad that she was already standing on the platform; she feared she might have slipped otherwise.

Or, rather, she is making her way to the front of the train, Cedric continued as Cloudia pulled her own skull pendant from behind her clothes. Jacques is safe.

Are you? Cloudia wanted to ask but then did not, the question too superfluous; of course, he was. What happened? she enquired instead.

It’s a long story; I will tell it later. I’m heading to the front too. Alfred is with Jacques, do not worry.

I’m nearly at the front; I only have two more wagons to go. Is there anything else you want to tell me?

Yes. Maxime is handcuffed and unconscious, so you won’t run into him. And Yvette has the Queen’s box.

Cloudia stopped in her tracks. Someone collided with her and cursed at her, but she did not pay him any attention, and he quickly recoiled upon seeing the blood on her clothes. What do you mean Yvette has the box?

I saw the thing with my own eyes. I’m sorry that we could not secure it. It was rather messy here.

But why should she have it in the first place? Why not Townsend? Did they decide to give it to her because we would think he would have it, and not she?

That’s possible.

Cloudia resumed her track through the coach, shaking off the man who had collided with her earlier as he demanded to know what was going on and where the blood came from in the process. One nuisance was, at least, more bearable than what she had to deal with earlier. As the woman hadn’t reached this wagon and the ones beyond yet, the chaos had not seeped into this area of the train yet.

Is there anything you want to tell me? Cedric’s voice echoed in her ear just as Cloudia shooed the man back into his cabin. She halted again upon hearing his question, and for a moment, a hundred replies floated through her mind like pesky flies before she waved them all away and simply thought. Take care. See you soon.

***

~Cedric~

Take care too, Cedric replied and stuffed the pendant back into his shirt. “Are you done here, Milton?” he then asked aloud. Since they had left Jacques and Newman behind, they had managed to cross a wagon and were about to jump to their third.

------------------

Snippet 90

As you can see from the number of the snippet, this one is quite old! (I currently have 411 snippets in my collection.) I had this idea many, many years ago. This snippet simply records that idea; there was no proper context or time slated for it when I wrote it. I thought one day “oh, wouldn’t that be fun?” and jotted this down. The third character mentioned is, thus, just some placeholder and no one in particular. I then had to edit it to make it fit into Destruction and look up some things from the third chapter in the process. Most of the snippet remained as it is which isn’t always the case.

“Do not dare!”

A second before Cedric had been able to mangle him, Cloudia had thrown herself between them, spreading her arms to shield him from Cedric.

Cedric stopped, not wanting to hurt Cloudia who was barely able to stand. She was gasping for air and this reckless action had cost her the rest of her energy.

“You promised me it,” Cloudia struggled to say, and something inside of Cedric shattered and the rest of his blood-thirst vanished.  He really did not want to know what had happened if he had not been able to stop in the right moment, if he had been blinded so much by his thirst of blood that he had attacked Cloudia, of all people, in his frenzy.

“You...,” she began, but then, she coughed and tumbled, fainting. Instinctively, Cedric moved forward and caught her in his arms, her body so thin and fragile in his arms. He closed his eyes and kissed her on the head.

What had I done?

Cedric carefully laid Cloudia down in the leaves before he went to punch him in the face, knocking him unconscious. Then, Cedric tied him up and put him over his shoulder. When he was done, he gently lifted Cloudia in his arms and headed back.

[binarybitex]

behind the scenes: Boss Babysitter

with the most recent chapter of Heart Hollow being released (Boss Babysitter), I thought I'd share some insights into my creation, writing, and notetaking for it.

caution: this post contains spoilers!

Welcome to Boss Babysitter; Mr. Andrei Wright decides he needs to come back down to the Hotel's floor after his Assistant Manager - Lewis Lockheart - destroys company property in an emotional overflow. Zeke, still processing having seen his orderly manager snap, has to join the two managers throughout daily tasks at Heart Hollow Hotel. The three of them oversee maintenance, attempt to review an end-of-week-report, and have a meeting with housekeeping. Not even halfway through the day, Mr. Wright decides it's time for lunch; Zeke offers him a cigarette outside in order to give the two managers some space. One questionable conversation later, Zeke trudges back inside to enjoy Lewis' company for the remainder of his break. After a brief history lesson and some comments that are just a bit too sweet for coworkers, Zeke and Lewis' attention is brought outside as Andrei Wright gets arrested for fraud.

the earliest mention of this chapter was from the very first Heart Hollow master arc list (dated 2019 or so). a lot of things have changed, but I knew from the get-go that Andrei was going to be arrested.

fun fact: when i was originally creating Heart Hollow in 2019, I was taking a much more adult-comedy-cartoon route. there was, in fact, going to be a shoot-out as (gasp) the FBI and (even bigger gasp) the IRS show up!!! i decided to scrap that. it just doesn't match the "real-life" drama route im taking now lol

the arc list from november 2021 is one of the first redrafts of the story after my 2-year art block.... the one from april 2022 was after I started making the comic. again, lots of things have changed, but I always outlined space for an episode revolving around Andrei's arrest

here's me brainstorming potential chapter names. i recall struggling with the name because i liked a lot of my options; however, i eventually stuck to "Boss Babysitter"

........

(eheheh it's a play on the hit DreamWorks film "The Boss Baby" featuring Alec Baldwin as "The Boss Baby")

the first idea on what i wanted the meat of the chapter to be about. i wanted to really put the nail in the coffin about Andrei's mismanagement and how that's been affecting Lewis.

more exploration into what the chapter was to be about. i find this one curious, actually, as this was from my earlier notebook (2021-2022) so I guuuuueeeeess I had a pretty good grasp on this chapter early on......??? thank god for notebooks bc it's really hard to keep everything crammed up in my brain.

the chapter before it ("The Heart of Heart Hollow") concluded on Lewis punching the employee bathroom's mirror. i had to bring up the aftermath, how Zeke was managing having seen that. i also wanted to touch upon Lewis' return back, and how unlike him it is to take an impromptu vacation like that. i knew even in the earliest drafts of this scene, that Lewis was going to lie about where he got his wounds from.

early sketches of Lewis' arrival after his impromptu vacation. these lil thumbnails make me giggle.... theyre just so silly lookin.

i also needed to consider how their day was spent with Andrei joining them. i broke it down piece by piece here, scene by scene. i love my additions of dialogue within my loose ideas. it really brings momentum to my writing process.

also, sidenote: can I just say that I do not hold the same beliefs as Andrei? he's a shit head and i wanted to make his character very uncomfortable to be around.

the scene between Andrei and Zeke was one I've had planned for years. it was so euphoric to finally write it out and send it out into the world. here's the snippet where he outwardly admits to his white collar crime.

for the longest time, I was going to reveal that Zeke was living at the Hotel at the very end of "Boss Babysitter"..... however, when I was writing the aftermath of the mirror break (in "The Heart of Heart Hollow"), I thought it appropriate to include Zeke's squatter status. the drama of the story starts to tie itself together as we witness Lewis do something dangerous and impulsive, and learn something rather confidential about Zeke. we start to wonder: who are these characters? what have they gone through to lead them here?

lastly...... just a little doodle of Andrei in prison garb. i love that he's let his beard grow a bit more.

[hergrandplan]

8, 21 and 25 pls 💜💜💜

💜💜💜💜

8. How slow is a slowburn?

If I write it? Too fucking slow. I keep wanting to make them kiss like I'm playing with barbies. I also like to drag things out, so if anyone gets annoyed with me about a slowburn, you're good, I am annoyed with me.

But in all seriousness, I think it first of all depends on the length of the story of course. Ideally, in a slowburn the actual endgame happens well... in the end.

However, that doesn't mean nothing can happen between them - maybe they kiss halfway through! But then one of them gets cold feet, and they don't actually end up in a relationship yet. A slow burn (in my opinion) doesn't mean there's no romance throughout - it just means that all the while you're reading it, you're not 100% sure if they're ending up together. Until they inevitably do because it is fanfic after all.

21. Can you accurately describe how long a fic is going to be? If so, what's your secret?

I can't. For example: Suburban Legends was going to have 22 chapters. Idk how many there will be now. Might be 15, might be 22, might be 25, we'll see! (it's probably going to be shorter though lol). And sometimes I'll set out to write a quick 1k one-shot and before I know it I'll have 3-5k just ready to go.

Usually before I start writing, I'll have an outline with some semblance of where I want the story to go but at some point the characters take over, I lose the plot and then who knows where we're ending up (usually somewhere better than I originally had in mind). And I honestly think that's the beauty of writing; it's ever changing, and a journey, and I love it.

25. Is writing the whole thing beforehand better or worse than writing as you go?

Had you asked me 4 months ago, I would have said beforehand. I had the first chapters of Suburban Legends ready to go before I started posting it, in a way to kind of work ahead, so that I could keep a regular schedule. However, life caught up to me and now I'm as far in the story as it is posted on ao3 (give or take a few thousand words), and I kind of prefer that? It makes me feel like I am allowing the story to change more. Plus, sometimes someone will say something really smart and interesting in the comments and I find myself adjusting the story. I feel writing it as you go makes it become more dynamic (if that makes sense)

Send me a fic writing ask <3

[elizmanderson]

Hi again. You made a few posts about first drafts being ridiculous and cleaning them up later. And I desperately need more writers talking about the writing process as they are writing it (like 'making of' posts/ videos, any creator who does those gets me obsessed with them)

Anywho, I was wondering how your revision process looks? How different is your first draft from your last and how did you make the decisions of what to cut vs what to expand on?

I know for myself, my MC is a constant-overthinker and all of faer POV is stream-of-consciousness, and fae goes on a LOT of unnecessary but characterizing tangents that I don't know how to work with, given the corner I wrote myself into.

TLDR - Any info about your revision process would be much appreciated.

Thanks :)

hello and thanks for asking!

first of all, in case anyone is curious about the original post, it's here. also, there are many ridiculous things in this draft of NettieWIP, but that post was brought to you specifically by this line that I wrote even though it's completely tonally wrong for both this book and this character lmao

okay, revisions. this is gonna get long, but I'm breaking it up into sections that will hopefully be helpful.

general process

so the first thing is, my revision process and how much I cut or add is different for every project. but here are some general principles I follow. keep in mind that ymmv with any and all of these! you have to find what works for you. this is just what works for me.

1. finish the draft first

I will never finish a draft if I'm focused on editing while I go. I've been hardcore resisting with NettieWIP because I keep having ideas about how to make it better mid-draft. but I know if I don't finish the draft as-is, it's not going to get done.

2. let it breathe before diving in

sometimes I have the urge to rush right into revisions after finishing a draft, but I do force myself to wait at least a month or two before returning to it. it gives me the emotional distance I need to be able to make decisions about what to cut, no matter how much I like things that don't serve the story.

(again going to have to fight this urge hard with NettieWIP in particular lol)

3. read it before diving in

the one thing that stays consistent from project to project is that I always do a full readthrough before I start revising. highly, highly recommend this regardless of what else works for you! reading through my entire manuscript gives me a big-picture view of the whole story and how all the parts work together (or not), as well as what the problems are.

note: when I do my readthrough, while I do make general notes of my thoughts, I do NOT focus on line-level details or edits. which brings us to...

4. fix big things first

okay jk actually this stays consistent from project to project, too. when approaching revisions, I always start with the biggest changes and work my way down. line edits are the last thing I do, because I figure it wastes my time and energy otherwise. what if I put all this energy into line edits or scene-level changes only to cut half those lines or scenes later when I make structural changes?

5. this is the time to plan!

I'm a plantser, which is somewhere halfway between a plotter and a pantser. while the amount of planning I do before a first draft varies, I always dedicate time to planning before revising. the exact process varies, but it's kinda like this.

read the entire manuscript, making note of plot holes and problem areas

brainstorm potential fixes and where they might fit in

write an outline, synopsis, chapter map, whatever (for me it's usually either a synopsis or chapter map because I simply cannot with outlines)

6. start rewriting

...and as discussed in a different post earlier, I always start the new draft in a new document! you never know when something from an earlier draft could come in handy.

7. use beta readers

I typically do a second draft on my own, because I typically have at least some idea of what needs fixing when I'm done with a first draft. I bring beta readers in once I hit the point where the story's cohesive but I know more work needs to be done, but I'm not sure what that work is.

you specifically asked how I decide what to cut vs. what to expand on, and beta readers are one important way—especially for what to expand on. while I have a habit of overexplaining in many areas, things in my head frequently fail to make it onto the page.

(I think this is because things are obvious to me bc I thought them up. but readers cannot see inside my head, so they may be confused or think a character or plot point is underdeveloped even though I have a lot more information about it mapped out internally.)

if readers feel like information is unnecessary or overexplained or like I'm patronizing them, that's a potential area for cutting. if readers are confused, lack insight, or feel like a reveal came out of nowhere, that's a potential area for expanding. that said...

parsing beta feedback

while outside feedback is important, it's at least equally important to be able to decide what feedback to listen to and what feedback to ignore! not all feedback is good feedback. and even feedback that's technically good may not be good feedback for your story.

for example, I had feedback on the manuscript that's now on sub that was drastically different than the rest of the feedback I received on that same manuscript. I love the beta who gave it to me and I respect their opinion a lot, so I took this feedback seriously. but I couldn't make it work, felt deeply frustrated, and spiraled a bit over my ability to write a book even though it was far from my first.

then I got into Author Mentor Match which I applied to mostly because I need some guidance re: this feedback. my mentor basically said, "I think this is good feedback, but I think it would change this book into a pacier, more action-packed book. and I don't think that's the kind of story you're trying to tell."

and my mentor was right! I think this friend and I are simply interested in different kinds of stories. so as much as they love my stories and as great as they are at giving feedback, their feedback may not be a good fit for me.

usually, I like to look at patterns of feedback.* the more readers agree that a plot point is weak or a reveal doesn't have enough build-up, the more likely it is that I really do need to worry about that.

BUT if a single reader's feedback makes me go oh and I really vibe with it, that's also good feedback to listen to! as long as you know what the heart of your story is, you can follow feedback that helps your story do more of what you want it to do and do it more effectively.

*in my experience, patterns are most helpful when your readers share aspects of your identity. for example, I'm neurodivergent and queer. when most of my readers were neurotypical and straight, I'd get told "this doesn't make sense" "no one thinks/feels like that" "this is unrealistic." and I'd be told that by multiple readers, so I'd decide that meant I had to change the story, even though something deep down told me I was wrong about that, that my betas were wrong about that.

now, most of my readers are neurodivergent and/or queer, so they understand when my characters do or think or feel certain things. and at the very least, they never tell me a character is being "unrealistic" or assume that characters' feelings aren't based on things I have really felt. so particularly for marginalized creators, patterns of feedback may NOT be helpful if your readers do not share your marginalization.

examples of changes to my drafts

cutting and combining

The Remarkable Retirement of Edna Fisher was drafted over a year and a half as part of a last man standing-style writing challenge, so the first draft was 160,000 words. it was pretty obvious I'd have to cut SOMETHING, since I was planning on querying agents.

(recommended for adult fantasy if you're seeking trad pub as a debut author: 120k max word count. better to be lower if you're writing contemporary fantasy, while you can be on the high end if you're writing epic fantasy. other subgenres may fall in between.)

I cut...a lot, in some cases through actually cutting while in other cases combining things. for example, there's a scene now where a dragon attacks Detroit while Our Heroes are delayed there. It used to be separate scenes: Edna & Co. delayed in Detroit, with not much happening except the reason for the delay, and a later scene where they came across a random dragon attack elsewhere. additionally, the secondary antagonist runs around with an old friend who used to be two separate characters: the character he is now, and another old friend of theirs who was just sort of a generic asshole who didn't serve much purpose in the story.

thanks to cutting and combining scenes and characters this way, the story moves along faster, the stakes involved in those scenes and characters are higher, and everything is more tightly tied together. when I finally queried, Remarkable Retirement was down to just 98,000 words (published at 99,000 words).

similarly, in the book now on sub (Buried Things aka GroundskeeperWIP), I cut most of a short chapter from the antagonist's POV. I tried it as a prologue but didn't like that I don't do prologues in general although I know some folks love them, then tried moving it later but didn't like that either, and finally ended up just using bits of it that I felt were particularly useful in a chapter focused on a different character. I also cut a chapter from the POV of a friendly ghost/wingman from beyond the grave (but have it saved in case a future editor's like "you know what we need—")

worth noting that Buried Things wasn't massively overwritten. I think the longest draft was 104k or 106k, while it's on sub at about 90k (and the entirety of the last 4,000 words I cut from it was through line edits, not plot changes). however, both chapters stalled the story without adding much. what they did add, I was able to incorporate into other chapters instead.

expanding

while Remarkable Retirement's need for cuts was more obvious, some things were also expanded upon, especially with my publisher! my editor felt that the romantic subplot needed a little more build-up—not in terms of what happens or how it happens, but in terms of making it clearer why these two people start to have those feelings. similarly, a friend who read Buried Things thought it was great overall but that a particular character wasn't fleshed out enough.

in both cases, I think it was that instance of "things in my head do not always make it onto the page." when my friend had questions about the character in Buried Things, I had answers; those answers just weren't on the page. same thing with the romantic subplot in Remarkable Retirement. so it was a matter of taking what was in my head and making sure it actually came across on the page, although in other cases I may realize I don't already know that stuff and need to brainstorm to develop it more.

both together

in the case of NettieWIP, even though I'm not done drafting yet, I already know some stuff I'll need to cut and expand on! I find I'm repeating myself a lot in this draft, plus it's very dialogue heavy. so I'll need to cut back on some themes and emotions I keep bringing up, as well as trim down the dialogue and let the murder investigation not be entirely conversation.

conversely, there's virtually no setting description or atmosphere, so those are things I'll want to expand on in revisions.

tl;dr: in conclusion

okay this got really long because if you get me talking about writing it is impossible to shut me up, but here are the major takeaways for everyone playing along at home:

my general process: (1) finish the draft; (2) let the draft breathe; (3) read the entire draft; (4) focus on big-picture changes first; (5) plan your revision/rewrite; (6) rewrite/revise; (7) use beta readers

knowing the heart of your story helps you figure out what to cut, what to keep, and what to expand on

knowing the heart of your story helps you figure out what feedback might be useful and what feedback might not be right for this book

it can also helpful to look for patterns of feedback, but this is mostly helpful when your beta readers share your identity, particularly if you are a marginalized creator

thanks so much for giving me an excuse to drone on and on about writing your question!

[freneticfloetry]

hi courtney! @reyesstrand here on my main blog ajdnskd but for nice ask day i’d love to know about to build a home…what was the writing process like? any little tidbits you want to share about it? it’s one of my absolute all time favourite fics, so anything you’d want to share would be amazing <3 also!! i saw your ask where you mention you saw hozier and i’m seeing him on tuesday (!!!) so any hozier songs you feel speak to the lone star characters/relationships the most?

Hey Maddie!

First of all, hugs and kisses to you for all your kind words on to build a home (here and in feedback). I’m so glad it struck a chord.

I’m not sure what else to say about it, to be honest! Um… okay, there were four scenes in my original outline that I cut. Well, three scenes cut and two others combined. Very early on there was a scene at the honky tonk the night TK and Carlos met, sort of the tail end and aftermath of their first hookup and Carlos deciding that he needed to see this boy again, even if it meant breaking his rules and bringing him home. I never even started that scene proper — once things got flowing it made much more sense to just refer to that in the scene following, after TK stormed out on the date. Immediately after that one was supposed to be the scene when Carlos finds out Iris is alive, which got the axe for two reasons: one, I really didn’t want to write Michelle, and two — more importantly — I needed Iris to stay a sort of ghost for Carlos until he’s forced to unearth all that later.

Chapter Two pretty much proceeded exactly as planned, with the exception of the post-fire scene at Owen’s — that was just supposed to be Carlos laying in the dark and sort of inside his own head, reflecting on all the things he lost but the one thing he came out with being the only thing he couldn’t bear to lose. But TK sort of stormed the castle. I was chugging along, and all of the sudden, I’d typed that he’d woken up. It was literally like he said “my baby’s hurting, he needs me.” Which was cute, but not the plan. 😂 Still, I was really happy with the conversation that emerged.

Chapter Three, though… well, like mother like son. Not only did TK go rogue again, so did Gwyn, with the whole “future” talk toward the end of their conversation. The post-Cooper scene was originally post-Sadie, but it was too raw and too soon for TK to have processed things in a way that would have let him have that talk with Carlos (who would’ve been too freshly-mired in his own guilt, at that point, instead of adrift and unsure in Cooper’s wake). Switching it was definitely the right call, for me. The We Need to Talk About Iris of it all had huge changes in the moment, because once I started the scene, even though I had a plan, I wrote one line in particular and it unlocked everything else. Going over it with @ambiguouspenny, I thought they were going to have a meltdown. But in a good way! The hospital scene threw me a curveball, in the form of tying up a loose end from the first chapter, so that’s how Dom happened. It derailed the original plan for the first half of that conversation with Gabriel — he was going to tell Carlos that his abuela had always called him such a homebody, that after he came out he couldn’t leave home fast enough, and Carlos was going to confess that he’d sort of detached because he wasn’t sure he’d have a place under their roof after everything, that he had a bag that lived in Iris’ trunk for months, because it was better to be ready than to be blindsided — but I actually like the detour better. There was a scene planned immediately following — the boys coming back to the loft from the hospital after Marjan’s whole ordeal, where TK tries to convince Carlos to take the detective exam — but once I finished the scene before that was the easiest cut ever. It would’ve derailed all the emotional momentum from the scene before. And the wedding and wedding night were supposed to be two separate scenes, but halfway through the hospital scene I randomly got the urge to combine them, and I really love how it turned out.

There are a few lines and snippets that didn’t make the cut, one piece of dialogue in particular that inspired a whole new fic. (Also there was an extended exchange during the move-in scene, with Carlos’ crack about the exercise bike, that kind of went something like this:

TK: “Seriously, how does a guy who looks like you own zero gym equipment?” And then, like a little lightbulb: “Oh my god, you were that kinda gay.”

Carlos: “There’s a gym at the precinct, TK.”

TK: “And I’m sure that’s what you use now.”)

So basically… the writing process was chaos. I guess I had things to say after all! 😂

Second, YAY, A HOZIER SHOW OF YOUR VERY OWN!

Re: Hozier speaking to Lone Star characters and pairings, why yes, don’t mind if I do.

I think there are a bunch of things that fit, actually. Tarlos and Francesca are clearly a match made in heaven, but First Time has hella TK vibes, both Shrike and Sunlight are Carlos as hell (though the former fits TK too), and I, Carrion (Icarian) fits for both Tarlos and Judd/Grace, from TK or Judd or even Grace’s perspective. From Eden is such a Judd-about-Grace song, as is NFWMB, but I think Would That I is his truest theme. Better Love could be Judd or Carlos. Unknown/Nth is my Breakup Era Carlos Anthem, and As It Was fits for TK during that same stretch. I have too many feelings about Movement to even nail down who it belongs to. All Things End feels like it would work well for Owen and Gwyn, and I’ll be damned if Arsonist’s Lullaby isn’t Owen’s buried anger issues to a tee.

I won’t even get started on individual lyrics/verses (but “I get along without you very well some other nights” and “be still my foolish heart, don’t ruin this on me” is the most TK Strand shit ever).

Not that I’ve thought about this at all. 😜

(Oh my god, this was an utterly unhinged answer, I’m so sorry.)