#i'm not great at fics nor art but i can say

[angelfrombeneth]

SECRET - A . DONALDSON

Sexual Content Ahead

Art Donaldson x Fem!ChubbyReader

Summary: Where you and Art are 'secretly' hooking up without your friends knowing.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), Born with barely any plot, Art is slightly pathetic in this, Reader loves a cheeky ass grab.

Note: This one is a quick one I rushed, because I'm writing a nice long Art fic for yall. So please enjoy this for now.

If you told yourself 3 years ago that you'd be sat on some bleachers watching tennis you wouldn't believe it.

You were never interested in tennis, you knew about it obviously but it was never your thing.

You came to Stanford as an international student due to the fat scholarship you recieved so you packed your bags from London to California.

That is where you met Tashi Duncan, your best friend. She introduced herself to you one day in the library after hearing you tap away to the music playing in your headphones. It was a close call, she saved you from another warning from the librarian.

Tashi and you were inseparable. Learning about eachother more you discovered she played tennis and was quite well known but you had no clue. She found this a breath of fresh air as everyone knew of her some how. She put it down to the fact your from a different country additionally to your lack of interest of the sport.

Tashi coaxed you to come watch her warm ups and games - which you did being a great friend. But you sported to opening your sketchbook and sketching out the scene infront of you additionally. Might aswell do a research project on human posing and what better sport that tennis.

After your first semester you noticed Tashi always hanging out with this tall lanky man. He seemed nice but, you'd never seen him around. She told you he was her 'thing' which made you both laugh over lunch one time. She had mentioned he will be around alot more and he has a friend and that's when you met Art Donaldson, and well. The rest is history.

It had been a good year since you met Patrick and Art and you four were now a little quad. Despite the three of them being raging tennis players and you just sat on the side line they didn't mind.

You did try to take up a sport but it just wasn't for you, after Tashi found you face down in a bush after a 100m sprint.

You were watching Art play against someone from another University - you weren't listening to their name though.

Tashi and Patrick sat beside you, gasping and groaning, cheering and whooping at what was going on in the game but you only knew so much.

In the year you've known Art, you two had a great bond and tend to.. dip into eachothers bonds from time to time. You had no clue if Tashi or Patrick knew about your occasional flings with Art, you both never aired it nor got caught it just happened sometimes.

But as of late, you can't take your eyes off him. The way his shorts ride up his muscly thighs as he jumps from one end of the court to the other. The way his hair bounces but also sticks to his forehead due to his sweat. You were slightly obsessed.

You wouldn't say you had feelings for him, it never got deep enough for that. But you craved him. You craved every single inch of him and how he'd just melt into your hand.

"COME ON!!" You jump slightly as you were ripped out of your daydream as Tashi flew up beside you screaming as you looked at Art celebrating on the court.

You smiled, standing up and clapping as you grabbed everyone's coats and bags as Tashi and Patrick dashed off to see Art.

Climbing down the stairs was tricky balancing everything but as soon as you saw Tashi and Patrick bust through the door of the court as they piled onto Art you smiled. Walking towards them as you put down the stuff.

Art turned to you smiling, walking up to you and pulling you in for a hug. It wasn't unusual just took you off guard.

"We should celebrate! Let's go out for dinner" Tashi smiled.

"I love a good dinner" You smiled as they all chuckled at you.

You got changed for the dinner into a little black dress, you can never go wrong with it. Tashi texted you earlier her and Patrick will be late - which you assumed they were fucking in his car yet again. Dinners cancelled you assumed.

You walked over to Arts dorm, knocking on the door as it swung open to reveal a slightly disheaved Art as he stared at you. Shirtless and in the tightest pair of shorts ever.

"Did you forget we are going to dinner-"

"No- I was just.. working out" He spoke slightly.

You looked him up and down, a knowing smirk on your face.

"You can't hide it from me" You laughed. Art's face contorted as he looked at you confused as you swiped your hand over the very obvious bulge in his boxers before walking past him into his room.

He doubled over, groaning as he shut the door as you laughed, sitting on his desk chair.

"I thought Tashi was taking you to the restaurant?" He dove onto his bed, laying on his stomach as he scrunched a pillow up at leaned against it looking at you. God he looked so pathetic. Ass up and everything.

"Seems she got preoccupied with Patrick, I got this" You pulled up the text and turned it around to show Art.

"We definitely won't make it to the restaurant now" He laughed.

You stood up, dropping your bag on the chair as you walked over to Art, sitting by his head as he looked up at you.

"What do you wanna do then?" You caressed his cheek, smiling down at him.

"I have a few ideas.." His head turned to kiss your palm as his lips made its way up your arm till he was on his knees infront of you.

You stared at him blankly, sucking in your bottom lip as you took in the situation. You both paused for a brief moment staring at eachother.

You leaned in, kissing him roughly as your hands dropped to his back, pulling him closer as his hands slid up the back of your dress as he squeezed your ass. One thing about Art he loved your ass.

The pair of you tumbling with one another as you yanked down his boxers slightly as the back, grabbing a chunk of his ass with his hand as you sucked onto his tongue. A soft moan leaving his lips as you yanked down his boxers completely rolling over as you caged him below you.

"Mm- want you- s'bad" You pulled at his lip as you sucked on it, grinding down against his bare cock as you reached to pull your dress off in one swift motion.

"Fuck- good girl-" He groaned as he unclasped your bra throwing it off as he pulled your neck and pulled you back into another kiss. It was passionate but needy. The way his tongue slipped in and out of your mouth had you yearning for more. You reached down to wriggle out of your panties as you kicked them off to the side before you held the base of his dick. Running it between your slit as you gasped, pulling away from the kiss.

You bit your lip, sighing as you bucked your hips against his tip. Your hands sliding up over your breasts as you peered down at him. "You piss me off how fucking hot you are. Why are you so fucking hot" You groaned, grinding down harder against him as he harshly gasped.

"Shut up" He whined lightly as he grabbed your hip, lifting you up so he could grab his cock and curve it up towards your entrance as he dropped you down against his abdomen as his cock slipped up inside of you. "Fuck-" You both yelped in unison.

You peered down at him, chuckling softly as you let out soft moans as you rocked back and forth against him. "Oh fuck-" You grit your teeth as your hand slid down his chest as you rocked back and forth. Your thighs slightly twitching as your eyes threatened to roll back.

"Such a good girl f'me aren't you" He smirked, sliding a hand up overs your stomach. This was something Art tended to do. You knew you were chubbier that other girls you'd seen him with before but he was definitely into it. His smile grew as he slid them further up to grip your breast as he squeezed and toyed with it.

You smirked down at him, leaning forward slightly, pecking his lips as your ass rebounded against his abdomen as you dropped down on him continously as you rode him.

"Good.." You spoke with breathy moans as light whines escaped Art's lips as he stared into your eyes. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. The way his eyes watched you.

His hands dropped from your breasts, gripping onto the plush of your thighs as he whined slightly, spreading his legs below you.

You could feel his hips thrusting up into your for more, as you bit your lip moaning lightly. "Yessss~ fuck. Art- s-so good" You yelped as his hands gripped your waist before flipping you onto your back. The movement shocked you but the second he got his balance he began to piston into you.

You reached back, grabbing the headboard of the bed as you yelped. Whines and moans pouring from your mouth as Art demolished you. His hips slamming into you. His balls slapping into your ass as the bed creaked below the pair of you. One of his hands, gripping at a chunk of your thigh as his thumb caressed against the skin. The other, reaching for one of yours as your fingers interlocked with one another.

You reached forward grabbing his ass harshly with your free hand, as you squeezed it, looking up at him, biting your lip.

His mouth ghosting over yours as he let out soft whines and groans - just like he does in tennis. Fuck do you love the sounds he makes when he's playing fucking tennis...

"Yes- Fuck Art please.. Harder" you groaned, your hand removing from his as they both flew to his back, your nails scratched down it as he pounded harder into you.

His groans got louder and needier, as his hands returned to your chunk sides, his fingers dug harder into your hip. His thrusts became sloppier, you knew he was close.

Art threw your legs over his shoulders as he slammed back into you. A guttural moan yelping from your throat as you shrieked, his pace quickening as you whined. Your nails digging into his shoulder as your back arched down against him as your eyes rolled back as you drew closer to your climax.

He knew you were close abd so was he. He continue to pump into you as fast as he could till you both came undone. Both cumming together, his head hung low as he watched a mixture of your releases create a ring at the bottom of his cock as he thrusted a few more times, dragging the pair of you through the high.

"Fuck-" He groaned as he pulled out, biting his lip as he leaned back on his legs as he stared down at you panting.

You looked at the disheaved boy infront of you, you couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle as he panted.

"S'good as always" You smiled, sitting up as you pecked his lips.

Art leaned forward, kissing you deeper as his hand snaked around your neck, pulling you closer as he kissed you. You hummed softly, your tongue swiping over his lips as the kiss grew more heated.

Before the pair of you could even consider a second round a loud string of knocks banged against the door.

The two of you pulled away and froze. Your hand pressed against his chest, your other frozen as you stroked his cock. His hands cupping your face as the pair of you just stared at each other.

After a while no knocks were heard so you were going to continue till another string of loud knocks.

"Fuck" You hissed as the pair of you both stood up, grabbing your clothes as you tried to quickly dress.

Your dress nowhere to be seen amongst the large pile of clothes. "Art where the fuck is my dress-" You whispered shouted.

"Shhh!-" He quipped. You grabbed his dress shirt he was wearing off the floor and threw it on over your underwear. He was scrambling around the room looking for his shirt when he looked at you wearing it.

He quickly pulled on his trousers and opened his wardrobe for a tshirt as he stumbled to the door. You stood behind him.

You don't know what you both expected or who you expected to be behind the door. But the colour drained from both of your faces as the door revealed your two friends.

"I texted you Y/N that we were outside 10 minutes ago but I can see you were occupied" Tashi raises her eyebrow, a sickly smirk across her face.

You gulped as you stared at her, smiling awkwardly.

"Tash- did you figure out where Y/N was-" Patrick's voice could be heard down the hall as he gained closer to the door. Stopping behind Tashi as he stared at you and Art. "Fucking knew it" He laughed.

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

[leconcombrerit]

This thing had been rotting in my files for a year (minus three weeks but that's basically a year). It was a redraw of one of my first ever pieces for this fandom, and I still find it quite okay if a little stiff in places, so I thought I might as well share it since I don't draw that much anymore.

And then I had second thoughts, which obviously led to me posting it anyway, as you can see, but I realized I've almost made it a point not to draw anything related to Sasi anymore. As in at all. I can't, and I don't want to, and even sharing old art feels a bit 'meh'. It's too directly linked to my long going art block.

What I mean by that is that if I took all the followers I have out there and asked them what they know me or initially followed me for, you might have a fair amount of Lis 2 and the occasional Desert Bluffs afficionados, but you'd get an overwhelming majority of Sanders Sides. Sanders Sides fashion posts even. I was by no means famous for it or anything, but at my small artist scale, it was the biggest success I had.

And it makes it much harder to go back to it at all now. One, because I don't give a damn about the show anymore. Two, because I haven't been properly obsessing over anything in a while (there was a series early this year but given the actual emotional distress I get thinking about it I'm ruling it out). I haven't had real engagement from my own brain, nor real engagement from a broad audience -which makes sense, I'm not posting for anything that will reach a broad audience. But it takes its toll regardless.

Even when I finally finished writing a long fic, I couldn't help but feel 'all this for what ? Ten people or so and two hundreds have dropped it ?'. Which is a bad way to think about stuff you write for your own enjoyment but, you know, the brain gets happy with external validation even if you pretend really hard you don't care.

And so it feels tempting to go back to the golden goose just the time to get the creative juice pumping back, and I try, and I always end up frustrated and angry and feeling even less like making art that before. I'm not having fun with Sasi. Like an old friend you have nothing to say to and yet you have so much to say otherwise, so you get a bit frustrated, you know ? Not sure I'm making much sense, but that's how it feels. I want to have something like that again, but it won't be with Sanders Sides, and I somehow just want if off my radar.

It was left hanging, then lost its spark, and then I stopped caring altogether and I most likely won't even watch the finale when it does come out. I'm over it. I wish I wasn't though, because it does feel like the artistic spark won't come back all on its own this time, and the buzzing community made it so much easier to bounce back and do shit when your brain got wired all wrong.

It sounds like I'm just bawling after love and likes and stuff, and I guess that's part of it, in a way ? Like I'm in no place to do things for myself, and seeing the one thing I used to use to get back in the flow giving me a bored sense of dread doesn't feel too great.

Yet this drawing is still good ! I find it good ! I don't remember everything, but I can tell from the looks of it that I spent a while on it ! It's nice ! I should celebrate that. So I'm sharing it. I think it will be the last piece of Sasi I ever share, though. I'm not watching the finale when it comes out. I don't care about it. I'll just keep doodling my OCs and characters from cool books every once in a while. I'll write little things.

I just really, really need to stop trying to go back to it when it's clearly not working and not even for good reasons. It was a fun ride though ! So yeah. Basically. A whole ass rant for a one year old piece of art. I'm in my bi-annual depresso mood, nothing too surprising there.

[senblades]

Hi :)

I love your art and your writing, and you have such a great grasp of these characters that I was wondering if you have any fic recs? Rating doesn't matter ;)

boy do I! (and ty for the compliment <3 <3 <3)

[cracks knuckles] alrighty:

The Dissapearence of Goro Akechi by Kupowonders - Probably my favourite fic ever, honestly- it's like. derailing the plot of persona 5 post-medjed thanks to the persona 4 accomplice ending years prior. (So, spoilers for p4 in that, too) it's. very good.

Marigolds by Colbub - Akechi gets ng+'ed to right when he started working for Shido, and has to take a good look at the future to come and be like "Aight how the fuck do I fix this". Fun times!

Daredevil, You've hit the wall by ez_cookie. Essentially, p5 Strikers but Sumire and Goro get to be in on the fun, too. And, there's a direct sequel currently being updated that's a similar premise for p5 Tactica. very very good stuff

A Tale of Two Tricksters by Zoe2k8 - Murder boyfriends! ...sort of? Angst! Angst and murder boyfriends! An oversimplification, obviously, but I'm not kidding when I say this fic is amazing and is also over a million words holy shit-

Throw away your mask by MollyPollyKinz - Another ng+ situation for Akechi, but this time the poor guy gets thrown all the way to 2009. You can imagine how well that goes (For the audience, less so for Akechi himself.)

The Crow Cries at Midnight by Dorked. hehe this one is very fun. Basically, a series of coincedencs causes Akechi to get thrown into the plot of persona 4. No time travel here! Just a grumpy 12/13 year-old Akechi trying to solve a murder mystery

The entire Tales of Chaos series by Eternalmomentss (The first one is called Like sand between your fingers) Very very good stuff! Something of a character study, I would say, of Ren and Goro. Plus, all the funky plot stuff that comes from trickster-typical bad luck and poor descision making. I really love this series hehe

uhh this post is getting very long I need to make this less wordy- lightning round?

Hunger for a life by Leonawriter - do you like vampires? I sure do! Mix that and the p5 plot and you get shenanigins. [evil laughter] a lot of shenanigins

Fishbowl by KivaEmber - Akechi has a terrible time in Maruki's reality. And I mean a terrible time

You have a beautiful smile underneath that mask by Saposaki - Akechi has a crush on Akira and Joker has a crush on Crow. No one is aware of the other's secret identity. Dramatic irony and hilarity ensues.

MASTERMiND by StumblingBlock - No Metaverse au where Akira really doesn't want to follow in the footsteps of his crime family, and fails miserably

Rose and Rot by SixteenJuniper - Read this!! I'm serious!! "A fun fantasy adventure" don't listen to Juniper. You'll be in tears by chapter two. (/pos, of course) (Seriously this fic is incredible)

Redressing the Balance by Convocated - ...almost a ng+? Ng+, in the sense that shuake are getting funky visions that are very quickly derailing the standard plot of p5r. This causes problems of the "Someone get the popcorn and maybe the tissues" variety

She's got a heartbeat full of lead (And she's aiming straight for the head) by Dots - This fic haunts me, often. In the best way possible, of course; but seriously, read it

Cracked into by SydneyHorses - Ren makes bad descisions and it becomes Akechi's problem. 2/2 timeloop, perhaps most notably featuring HaruGoro friendship! Love love love this fic

Okay that wasn't as "less wordy" as I intended but it'll do

Aaaand that's a wrap! Sorry for the long post.. and this is by no means all of the fics that I've ever loved (nor are the ones here in any particular order) but I swear we'll be here all week if I keep going HAHA

ty for the ask (and again for the kind words), anon! Hope this was helpful and to your tastes! (I... hope you like Shuake HAHA it's present in most of these- I assume you do, since you came to me (points at literally everything shuake I've made) of all people, but uh. Some of these fics are gen if it's not to your liking?)

[olderthannetfic]

I know the response to this will be "WRITE FOR YOURSELF!!!1!" but when I look at things I worked really hard to write that have zero comments and the things I threw out there on a whim that actually appear to have made people happy, I feel so much less motivated to write the former. I know I'm supposed to be "doing it for myself" but I don't know what that means. It feels like those 90's movies saying "be yourself" or my therapist saying "be authentic". It's a nice enough sounding thing, but what does it mean? Does it mean writing in obscurity is more pure or more artsy? Is it supposed to be more moral and demonstrate integrity?

There's an agreement in fandom that writing for others is bad. It's impure. It's selfish. But no one has really ever explained why. Nor am I getting much out of writing a story that means a lot to me and getting dead silence in response. I like entertaining others and making them smile.

I can practically feel the, "uh, back in my day fic was hosted on a server and we didn't see hit counts let alone get comments and we were happy with it because we weren't whiny and in need of validation like Gen Z!!!1!" people gearing up to yell in the replies that they're good writers who don't care about comments. That's great for them, and I mean that sincerely. But equally sincerely, how are you supposed to maintain passion for something no one else is interested in? I've been told it's better to get validation via hit counts or bookmarks but numbers don't really do anything for me. Someone saying, "I loved this! Can't wait to see what happens next." can make not just my day but my week.

I know what people say. Fandom isn't a popularity context. It's not social media. You're not supposed to like talking to people about fandom things. But... I do. And the utter silence that is modern fandom - of the 100 last published fics in my fandom, only 10 have comments, and only 4 have regular commenters - is just really not fun to me.

--

Yes, lots of people do think it ~demonstrates integrity~. People who never finish anything.

People who actually succeed at making art will say superficially similar things, but what they mean is "If you write things you aren't actually interested in, you will either burn out or the art won't actually be satisfying to the audience or both".

--

The thing about back in the day is that we only got comments. You're dead wrong about that part. Yes, people whined that there wasn't enough feedback, and they will continue to whine about this until the end of time, but your description misses the most important part about the rose-colored glasses and what people are trying to explain about the past in most of those posts:

We couldn't see the lurkers (hit counts) but we did see some actual interactions. This allowed us to imagine that the comment rate was way higher than it actually was and to see fandom as a close-knit community (which was maybe somewhat more accurate than now but never as true as people believed).

--

You have fundamentally misunderstood what the (saner) posts about this are saying.

You shouldn't care about overall numbers. You should care about meaningful social interactions. Obviously, people like connecting with others via art.

Fandom is not a popularity contest. That's why you should enjoy talking to actual peers about things. Genuine connection is not about being a celebrity with fans: it's about making friends.

--

Some fandoms do have interactions. Maybe if you start interacting with others' works, that will help. Maybe you need a different fandom. "Modern fandom" isn't this total wasteland with no interaction, nor do most people find a total lack of it fun.

[spdrwdw]

can u write something abt miguel and the reader being childhood best friends but they grew apart and then met again years later and get together?

Of course! I have been planning on making a series based on my childhood friend headcanons

Art By Shuploc

Pairing: Miguel x F!Reader

Warnings: None, no use of y/n. Warnings will change throughout the series. Each part will have their own warnings

Summary: You and Miguel were childhood bestfriends. You two did everything together, one never without the other. That is, until you both headed off your separate ways. Now, you move back to New York and bump into him. Will your old friendship with him continue? Will you get any closure? Also, who is this Spider-Man you keep running into?

A/N: So I am finally getting around to writing my childhood Miguel fic/series! I don't have a set number of parts this will be. Nor do I have a timeline of when I'm getting each part out as I am also going to be working on requests. But, I will put up a post for when I have a new part coming out a few days prior. This is going to take place in the future when you and Miguel are older. There may be flashbacks and I will be using my headcanons as inspo. POV will change from Miguel and reader. This is the prologue, giving us a little snippet of reader and Miguel when they were teens.

Word Count: 829

☆ Prologue ☆

Masterlist, WWWY Masterlist , part 1

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"Hey, remember when we used to play pirates over at the jungle gym?" Miguel asked you as you both swung on the swings of your childhood playground.

You smiled and nodded your head, your mind drifting off to the wonderful memories of when you were both kids, playing with the other neighborhood kids. 

“Of course I do. I was only the best thing ever!” You laughed as you continued to swing. 

“The slides were our ship and the monkey bars were the only way to get to and from land. It was great, honestly,” you reminisced. 

The sun was beginning to set, and Miguel couldn’t help but to stare at you for a moment as the sunlight caught your profile. And Miguel was in complete awe. They way the sun seemed to just glisten your skin, giving you such an angelic glow that he suddenly felt unworthy of. It made his stomach turn a bit. 

He had been harboring feelings for you for quite some time, and he knew that if he didn’t confess them to you now, he knew he never would. 

“Hey..I know this is gonna sound crazy, but, I want to tell you something,” Miguel started, suddenly feeling very nervous. 

You looked over at him, a smile on your fine. “Hmm? What is it?”

God, that smile. It made his heart skip a beat every single time. He could stare at it forever. He wanted to. 

So badly. 

And yet…

“N-nevermind. It’s nothing,” he shook his head. 

You raised a brow at him. “You sure, Miggy?”

Damn, that nickname. Only those closest to him were allowed to call him that. However, hearing you saying it tugged at his heart a certain way. 

“Y-yeah. I’m sure,” he assured you, looking down at his feet as he continued to swing. The fact that the swing was able to hold him was a miracle. He had a huge growth spurt in high school that he stuck out like a sore thumb. Many thought that he was a basketball player with how tall he was. However, he was too bulky to be playing basketball, so he took on football instead. Not something he was planning on continuing on with. His passion was science. 

“It feels so surreal, doesn’t it? In a few months, we’ll be going off to college. You better text me, Miguel,” you told him, a pout in your face as you looked over at him. 

“Me oyes?” 

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Miguel chuckled, nodding his head. Of course he would keep contact with you. 

He then looked back down as he stilled himself on the swing. He really needed to tell you before it was too late. It was already too late. You two were headings off to different universities. You’d only see each other during holidays and summer break. But, it could still work out, right? 

Well, he’d have to tell you first. 

And he was already chickening out. 

You two had been through so much together. Had done so many things together. You were his best friend and he was yours. Since kindergarten, you two were inseparable. You were both each other’s first in..a lot of things. You had your first kiss with him. You were his first crush, and you both lost your virginity to each other. That..that was an experience. 

Miguel didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want to let you go. But, such was life, right? Plus, you both promised to keep in touch. 

And you both were good about keeping promises. 

Or so Miguel thought. 

“Come on, Miggy. We should start heading back home. It’s getting late. And we need to be up early for tomorrow,” you told him as you let your feet touch the ground, putting your swing to a stop before getting off. 

Miguel followed suit with a nod of his head, swinging himself as high as he could before jumping off, landing on his feet with a thud. 

“You’re gonna mess up your knees,” you tsked at him, shaking your head as you began to make your way along the dirt path that led to the neighborhood sidewalk. 

“Eh, I’ll be okay,” Miguel chuckled as he waved you off.

You both walked side by side, hands teasingly brushing against each other. Fingers threatening to intertwine. You looked up at him, and he was already glancing down at you. You never spoke about your relationship. What were you two, exactly? It wasn’t just friendship anymore. But, neither of you managed to bring it up. You wondered what his thoughts were. 

Miguel walked you up the steps to your house, standing in front of you, hands stuffed in his pockets as he shuffled a bit. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told you. 

“See you tomorrow, Miguel,” you replied with a smile just before Miguel leaned into you, capturingyour lips in a kiss. 

Possibly what would be the last kiss you’d ever receive from him.

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[welcomingdisaster]

Rec List: Favorite Fics of the Year!

hey hey hey! here are my favorite fics that I read this year. This is not an all-encompassing list, and I know I am missing some fics I read and loved. I always appreciate more fics recs. That said, here are some things that really stuck with me this year!

before the black gate by TheChasm ( @thelordofgifs)

Lôminzil would mark her, if she could: leave the indentations of her fingers on Abraphêl’s hips and thighs and kiss-bruises on her neck, carve her name into Abraphêl’s flawless skin so that all who set eyes upon her might know to whom she belongs.

Lôminzil does not much like her job as one of Tar-Míriel's attendants, but there are consolations. Her secret work spying on the Queen for Ar-Pharazôn, for one: and Abraphêl, too.

This list in in particular order, but I am putting this one first because I believe it is CRIMINALLY underrated. The odds are stacked against it as a femslash, original character, Numenor centric fic but listen it is SO good. The tragedy and inevitability is SO peak Silmarillion to me. The character work is delicate and intense at once. It is both soft and violent at the same time. It makes me feral. It makes me cry. Please read it.

Also, because I feel weird recc'ing ghosti without including any M&M fics (which are all excellent!) - her little one shot, crowns and other trinkets, somehow stuck with me a lot. It's quiet and understated and just catches something about the characters to me.

A Common Chord by sallysavestheday ( @sallysavestheday)

I loved him first, Maglor liked to tell himself. Fingon and Maglor and Maedhros, loving.

Just so obsessed with this dynamic. Sally's language is as always so creative and vivid and good to read; the characters in this are so vivid and breathing. This fic is warm and cold at once. Please read it.

Silence Stretched as a Shadow Between the Trees by Melesta ( @melestasflight)

This is what Maedhros wanted all along, this is why he selfishly stole Fingon from his duties and brought him here at the edges of Beleriand. Because here, there are no houses or banners, no wars to fight, no rules of propriety. They are not the eldest sons of great fathers, nor lords of mighty kingdoms. To the forest and its cycle, they are no more worthy than the mayflies that emerge and die within a single turning of the Sun.

A late entry, published a few days ago; but I've already read it twice, so I think it has to count. I'm always a sucker for art writing and location writing, and this has both in droves. Just really beautiful writing and great character work; this is kind of cheating as a compliment to Melesta, but what a wonderful wonderful Fingon. Aurgh. Love the osanwë work in this as well.

I was also going to include Red by the same author, but I think I actually read it last year. Go read it anyways.

Oh everybody waits so long by polutropos ( @polutrope)

In the summer of 2017, Fingon is called to the scene of hit-and-run while on duty. He's shocked to discover the victim is Maedhros, his ex-boyfriend he hasn't spoken to in two years. Over the next six months, they stumble and fumble their way back to each other.

I am jealous of this fic's ability to render the Silmarillion believably in a totally different world. It takes a lot of writing chops and a lot of brain juice to do an AU this different, and boy do you pull it off. This is emotional, intense, and quite often funny. I think about it a lot.

The ficlet collection in this universe is also so so fun!

On the same note - Hearken Still Unsated by the same author.

“For how many years have we two listened for the echoes of the Music of Creation in the oceans and lakes and rivers? And yet we will never be sated. Like the water in which they say it lives, the Song does not rest but ever moves and changes. It may pool in a great lake for an age and then pour down into the Sea in another. It fills whatever spaces it can and flows by whatever paths most easily open before it.”

When the Noldor return to Middle-earth to make war on Morgoth, only rumours reach Menegroth of their reasons for coming, but Doriath's minstrel experiences their loss and longing through his connection to Music and the gift of his Queen. Years later, he is sent to the Feast of Reuniting and meets the Elf whose grief he felt. A story about the Eldar returning home, their connection to the land and to each other, and their relationship to Music and fate, love and free will. 

Not a fic from 2024, but I did read it in 2024. One of the most lovingly-crafted, carefully made fics I've read. No word is out of place. Foundational to the ship. Check it out.

arrangement of flute and harp by jouissant ( @jouissants)

“What sort of man leaves his lover abed with his brother? Fingon, hast thou ever heard of such a thing?”

Incredibly tasty character dynamics in a lot of ways. The writing is delicious and vivid and extremely witty at the same time. I love the character voices in this most of all - so sharp and well-defined, fitting for the ebb and flow of the fic. The way the characters are intertwined and tangled up together is so striking. And the smut was really hot, which goes without saying for the author.

Mockingbird by littlewhitemouse @littlewhitemouseagain

One of his captains had asked him, “Maglor, do you not sleep beside with your brother when visiting him?” and Maglor had replied, “I do, as it makes it easier for me to sleep,” and his captain had said, “Which is good, because you do not usually sleep,” and Maglor had said, “I do not.” But his captain had then asked, “but doesn’t Prince Fingon also bed with him, on account of their completely secret and frankly astounding incestuous affair that no one knows about (and I certainly don’t myself)?” and Maglor had replied, “Yes, and that makes it harder to sleep.” On account of that being a full and complete explanation, Maglor’s captain had said, “Ah,” and that was the end of that conversation.

This caught me from the absolutely-hilarious description and kept me for each word. You can probably tell this is a very funny fic, but it is also an extremely thoughtful and earnest fic, an incredible Maglor character exploration, and a gorgeous rendering of the world and customs and clothing and jewelry and AHHH. Love this fic. Frequent re-read.

In Memory to Dwell by EilinelsGhost ( @eilinelsghost)

"I was healed, they told me. As ready as a soul could be." Bitterness laced through Finrod's words and he drew the robe close about him once more. "In what way is this readiness? Is there no longer healing in Námo’s halls?"

Immediately after his reembodiment, Finrod shuts himself within his chambers and allows none but his mother to come near. When Eärwen is called away, Finarfin must navigate his grief at this new separation and both father and son wrangle together with the toll the First Age has left upon them.

Really thoughtful and carefully crafted examination of elven culture, disability, reembodiment. The author is extremely precise with her language and her characterization; the little details in the text really make this fic very striking and real. I loved how this balanced the family dynamic (and Finarfin's longing for his son as a child again) against the adult separation. Bittersweet in the best way.

And a lot of philosophy, which is suitable for Finrod, ha.

Finrod/Sauron One Thousand Nights Esque AU by am_fae @meadowlarkx

In which Finrod does not die at Tol-in-Gaurhoth, but begins an extended game of wills as Sauron's captive. Mairon is intrigued by the mysterious Elf singer. That's all there is to it.

Cheating by posting the whole series but GAUGH this is just so good. I was chomping at the bit to learn how Lark was going to wrap this one up and it SO delivered. This is tender, brutal, and so crisp. It left me wanting so many contradictory things for the characters (escape. love him. escape. stay) and dug at the core of goodness and corruption in such an interesting way. As always I am blown away by Lark's dialogue and POV writing. Just really great stuff.

And that is all, for now! I unfortunately read less fic than I wanted to this year, so I know I missed out on some gems. I'm thinking of putting together a quick list of some favorite short fics and drabbles, if I can find them (I have lost more than I thought) - keep an eye out for that! And always feel free to add on to this post with your own recs. :)

[gremlinmodetweeker]

The Axe - Chapter 3 (Part 1)

Okay so I've done a lot of art recently, but as I've mentioned to some other people I want on a vacation for my anniversary so I'm back, I'm refreshed, and I was able to sit down and write the next part of The Axe. This fic is always super fun and interesting. I know medieval fantasy is always a turn off for me, so I don't expect many people to enjoy it, but I do think the world building in here is pretty impressive. Let me know what you think!

If you don't want to wait for the whole fic to be published over the next couple of days, check out my KoFi HERE

By the way, the whole fic is 24 pages size 10 Times New Roman. Full fic is about 11.3k. This is a long thing.

TW: mention of alcohol, public execution, gore description of corpse, religious figures

Wordcount: 6k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Behind The Dew You Sing To Me

You’d never been keen on execution wakes before, but today was different. Today, you wanted to see if you could learn more about the great hooded man with that glinting, silver axe. A part of you was afraid to so much as offer to help your uncle, but another part of you was too excited to stop yourself.

“You want to come to a hanging?” your uncle stared at you in bewilderment, “a hanging? Have you lost your gourd?”

“Uncle, I know what I want,” you sighed again, “I want to come with you. You only just got out of bed, you need someone to help you there.”

“I don’t need that much help,” your uncle snorted, “I’ll be just fine. You can stay back and do some work here. Buns need to be made for Halaxwake.

“But you need rest, uncle,” you chastised him again, “you have to rest just a little bit, right? Auntie would never forgive you if you got sick all over again.”

“She wouldn’t, nor would she forgive me if I came home empty-handed!” your uncle chuckled before glancing at you with a mischievous look in his eye, “why, you’re so eager to go I might think you’re looking to meet someone there!”

Your face flushed a violent crimson as you spluttered and coughed.

Your uncle hummed, “You really do like to get yourself into all the worst situations, dear. If I didn’t know better, I might even say you were looking to see a certain shrouded man! Maybe even, dare I say it, a certain mysterious hangman?”

You shamefully turned away as your uncle laughed.

“You think you’re so slick, don’t you!” your uncle’s grin was woven into his words, “I’d bet you really thought I didn’t know any better!” he calmed his laughter momentarily to heave the last load of loaves into the wagon. He took a moment to lean against the side and cross his arms over each other, shoulders back as he stood tall in the crisp air. You glanced back to see him admiring you with his wise grey eyes, “Come with me. If you’re anything like me or your father, I wouldn’t be able to stop you, anyways.”

Your blush hid behind your wide grin as you walked over to stand beside your uncle. He hoisted the wagon up and looked at you, casting you a wry wink before pushing the wagon forth along the dusky dirt road.

Your uncle pushed the wagon along the road, his eyes straight ahead as he hummed a gentle off-pitch lullaby under his breath, one you’d heard your auntie sing to your cousins. You walked beside him, admiring the wild poppernickins as they grew in bundles of little white and pastel orange-pink blooms along the fence posts on either side of the road. Occasionally, the flowers were overtaken by winds of orange-brown twineweed that snaked up the wooden posts and curling along the fencing. It interwove onto itself, making intricate patterns formed in the ivy under wilted papery white flowers. You figured that soon the farmers would be collecting the pollen for the Hanndoal’s-Turn harvest. You smiled at the thought, memories smelling of bright fruit coated in syrups and the taste of old brew ghosting through your mind.

“You think Ernest’ll have another batch of wink ready for this harvest?” your uncle interrupted your thoughts.

You turned to look at your uncle and blinked, “Wink? Um, I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I hope so,” your uncle smiled, “I think Ernest’s wink always tastes the best, but don’t tell Leonard I said that.”

“I don’t think he can bring his head out of his ass long enough to hear you,” you snorted.

Your uncle laughed and shook his head, “Your mother said much the same, back when she was around. She never liked the Buscher clan, really.”

“Why’s that?” you asked.

Your uncle kicked a stone out from underfoot, “She thought they were all pompous pricks. Thought they knew everything there was to know about gourds and squashes and the like, but they were all the sourest things you ever did chew on.”

You laughed, “That sounds like my mother alright! She knew what she was talking about.”

Your uncle shook his head, “Oh if you think they’re sour now then you should’ve been around for the older Buscher. That old tyrant grew gourds sour enough to pinch your lips clean off. Horrible things, really.”

“And here I thought Leonard was the worst farmer in the village,” you hummed.

“Leonard’s a right gem compared to his father,” your uncle said, “his father was a right good-for-nothing. You couldn’t talk to him for longer than a vigil before he’d go off about how we were bound to be under the rule of elves if we didn’t prepare for ‘the rise up�� or whatever he called it.”

“The elves?” you rolled your eyes, “I’ll admit, I might say he was right if I didn’t know better.”

“But you do,” your uncle pointed out, “we all know the elves won’t ever try to take over the continent. They’re the best warriors you ever did see, sure, but they’re not that bright. And anyways, they ain’t as evil as he made ‘em out to be, but you already know that yourself. Elves are all just a bunch of bastards with egos big enough to blot out Brak-Hah’s-Eye. And anyways,” your uncle smirked, “they still don’t know how to make any sort of good drink. They need us for a good party.”

You laughed and nodded along. If nothing else, you supposed humans had that going for them. You weren’t called ‘The Joyful Children’ for nothing.

You walked along beside the cart as it squeaked and jostled over the stones littered across the dirt road. It seemed to whine over each and every pebble it overcame as it was pushed closer and closer to where the bodies swung in the breeze. Just the thought of the place had chills crawling up your spine. How anyone was able to endure living in that forest of corpses was beyond you. But then again, most of The Axe’s life was a mystery to you. You’d never even seen the man’s face before.

The Axe was a man hidden in a shroud darker than the one he wore upon his face. He was a strange, curious thing made up of flesh, stolen bones and misplaced teeth. He was walking death through a field of corpse flowers. He was the peace made between a dying man and his maker. He was hatred and rage and bloodshed held within a porcelain vase. All of him was drenched in criminal blood, and yet his eyes were blue as a newborn’s.

This strange man had taken a place in your life unlike any other. No man stood with you when you kneaded the bread for the next wake, but he watched over your shoulder and asked about the herbs and spices you tossed into your mixes. He walked with you when you went to church, an invisible shadow by your side at all times. These past two god watches, when you went to church, you would look down at the stone tiles and wonder if The Axe sat below, a doomed man listening to the words of something floating ever beyond his grasp. Innocent eyes trained on the glowing light coming from beyond an iron grate. You wished you could sit beside him.

Your uncle trod along beside you, blithely ignorant to any of your personal quandaries. He bullishly pushed the cart forward, ignoring its groans of protest. His stone-grey eyes were trained ahead, never wandering from their final destination.

“Uncle,” you asked quietly.

“Yes dear?” your uncle replied with a curious lilt to his tone.

“Do you think that The Axe is a bad man?”

Your uncle hummed slowly. He adjusted his grip on the wooden handles of the cart as sweat bloomed up on his rosey forehead. He took a moment to stop and wipe his hairy forearm over his face, then shook himself clear and picked up the handles again.

As he began to push the cart again, he said, “I think he comes from a cursed line.”

“But is he cursed?” you asked.

Your uncle chuffed, “Oh he’s cursed alright. Cursed by a little girl.”

You screwed your brows tightly together, “Cursed by a little girl?”

Your uncle nodded solemnly.

“Cursed by a little girl,” he confirmed, “I heard it happened when he was sixteen, right after his father went out into the woods and offed himself. I can’t remember the details, but the basic idea of the story is that an execution went south and the man’s daughter cursed The Axe. What the curse is? I don’t know, and don’t you go and listen to anyone who says they do. Nobody does,” your uncle gave an affirmative nod, “but he’s cursed for sure. He sees the witch, the apothecary and Father Kim to treat whatever it is, but I’m betting that as long as that hood’s on his face, he’s a marked man.”

You shivered at the thought.

“I’m sad to hear it,” you said quietly.

“Well, that’s life when you’re a killer-for-hire,” your uncle chuffed, “you need to be prepared for those sorts of things. And,” he paused briefly to glance at you, “if you really wanted to get close to a man like that, you’d have to be ready for those sorts of curses being turned on you.”

You glanced away from the cart to look at more of the tangleweed fencing.

“I know,” you admitted, “but… I can’t help it.”

“The heart wants what the heart wants,” your uncle sighed, “I know I can’t stop you. If I were a nobleman, maybe I could marry you off to some prince from another land. As it is,” your uncle shrugged, “all I can do is warn you. I’d tell you to stop, but I’m not your father, am I?”

You grimaced, “No, but you’re a better father than mine.”

“You’re speaking of my brother-in-law, you know,” your uncle huffed, “but,” he adjusted his grip, “you’re right. My sister’s husband wasn’t exactly the best sort of man. I always thought he was a bit immature, but what he did when your mom died? I still can’t fathom it.”

You nodded and admitted, “I sometimes wonder what it would’ve been like if he stayed.”

“You’d be a farmer’s daughter,” your uncle said, “so if you prefer the fields to the ovens, maybe it would’ve been better if he stayed.”

“I like the ovens well enough,” you chuckled, “I’d rather Auntie in my ear than getting my legs cut off by a scythe.”

“You heard old Martin got it good last turning-time, did you?” your uncles winced.

“Old Hutch told me it was a nasty wound,” you nodded, “he had to send him to The Axe for further treatment.”

“At least with The Axe around he can mend some of the worst wounds we get,” your uncle mused before a scowl dawned his face, “mind you, he only knows to heal as many wounds as he gives out.”

The thought of The Axe’s words from your last visit rang through your ears.

“I don’t think he likes hurting anyone though,” you said.

Your uncle shrugged, “Doesn’t matter if he likes it or not, he’s a torturer and an executioner by trade. That’s enough for me to make up my mind.”

“But can he really be anything else?” you asked as you stepped around a particularly large stone.

Your uncle shook his head, “As I said, he comes from a cursed line. His blood is tainted by generation on generation of curse. I’d be surprised if he can even sow another line if he tried with you.”

“Don’t be so crass,” you huffed.

“What?” your uncle chuckled, “it’s not like he’s got much to give any son of his. An old axe and a sorry story? I don’t think I’d want to be born to that, if you ask me.

“And anyways, would you want to give birth to any son of his?” your uncle asked you.

You thought for a moment. The thought of being a mother was always there; it was expected of you since birth. You were raised to be a mother much like any other young girl in the village. You were given dolls to care for and stories to lull your newborn to bed before you’d reached your third cycle. Being a mother and a homesteader was just what being a woman in the village meant. That was life. You’d never really paid too much thought to it. If anything, you didn’t even know if you’d ever take a husband. Sure, one day it would happen, but you never put much thought into it. Already most girls your age were married off with a troop of children around their hips. You were a bit of an outlier by now. But, the thought of having a husband and child comforted you at the very least. One day, soon enough, it would happen.

But you hadn’t thought of having children with The Axe. By the spirit realms, you hardly even knew what his face looked like! For all you knew, he was the ugliest man you’d ever lay your eyes on in your life. He could have a rotting face, for all you knew. And yet… The thought of a child with him didn’t sound half bad. It was a thought you’d have to play around with more after you’d gotten to know him better.

“You’re thinking of it now, aren’t you?” your uncle groaned, “by Halax, I shouldn’t have even said his name. I shouldn’t be talking about him with you at all!”

You rolled your eyes at that, “Well, you want to warn me, don’t you?”

“I’ve warned you plenty!” your uncle scoffed, “I keep telling you he’s bad news but you won’t have any of it!”

“I’m having some of it,” you retorted, “just not all of it.”

“Well go on and have some more because I’ve got plenty to give!” your uncle shook his head, “I mean, look, I can’t change your mind. Go and talk to Father Kim if you’re really interested in that man. Father Kim seems to know him best, at least. And if a holy man thinks that it’s a good idea, who am I to judge?”

“So you give me your blessing?” you asked hopefully.

Your uncle sighed, “Not now.”

“But maybe soon?” you prodded.

“Maybe,” your uncle conceded, “but not anytime soon. I still don’t even know the man.”

“But haven’t you given him his rations for years?” you asked quizzically.

“I have,” your uncle explained, “but he isn’t much of a talker. He’s a bit spooky, actually. He’s so quiet I might think he was a louse.”

Your thoughts drifted to when you ate sweet buns together in the forest again.

“I think he just needs some encouragement to talk,” you offered.

“You’ve chatted to him plenty, have you?” your uncle grumbled.

You flushed, “I’ve spoken to him in passing.”

“In passing,” your uncle drawled.

“In passing!” you bristled up.

“Calm yourself, you prickly little poke bear,” your uncle laughed, “you’re acting like a schoolgirl here!”

“I am not!” you huffed.

“You keep telling yourself that,” your uncle smiled knowingly, “you’re only digging a deeper hole for here.”

“I-” you cut yourself off, “I don’t need to hear any of this. I’m better than this.”

“Are you now?” your uncle cackled, “look, your father isn’t here. Somebody has to act the part while he’s gone.”

“And that person has to be you?” you grumbled.

Your uncle gestured to the wide open fields around you, “Who else do you see?”

You bit your tongue harshly. He had you there.

Your uncle laughed as he carted the wagon along the trail, happily poking fun at your ‘schoolgirl crush’ and your youth as he made his way along the old road. You, for your part, flushed up to your poor mortified ears and stayed that way for the rest of the journey. Your uncle took endless delight as he moved the cart along. With a sigh, you accepted fate and walked behind your uncle.

Your uncle only calmed his laughter once you broke through the forest. The cart caught on tangled weeds as you travelled down the lonesome road to the old hanging stone. The trees were thick enough to cast a haunting shade over the two of you. In woods like these, a highwayman could be hidden behind any tree. Suddenly, you were terribly glad to have your teasing uncle by your side. Even if he was an older man, he still had a good bread knife tied to his belt. You had your own little dagger, but your uncle was a seasoned man with a quick draw. It wasn’t much, but anything was better than giving in to whatever the highwaymen demanded.

Your uncle huffed and puffed as he pushed the wagon along the overgrown road. You only knew to follow the path because the trees had been artificially cleared generations before you, leaving a winding trail that snaked erratically through the woods. Evidently, the wood cutters had only cut through the easiest trees, unable to move the monoliths that stood along the edges of the waxing and waning road. In some parts, the wagon only just barely squeezed through the gaps in the trees. You wondered how any of the large carriages were able to make their way through the trees when they already pressed down on you, crushing you like insects under their wild thumb.

Ferns and flowers peeked from behind the old woods to wave in the passing wind. You watched Brak-Hah’s-Eye blink in and out above between the tall pines as you walked along. As you drew further and further into the woods, you felt the chill of shadows creeping up along the back of your neck.

You were blinded when you broke into the bright opening of the Criahlin’s stone. The black slate shone, polished of blood and grime to prepare for the coming day. Around the edge of the circle, stalls had been set up to welcome in any visitor in need of a sweetlin or a swintlin. Someone had set up a stall to shine shoes, another gave out bags of grain for cart beetles. You couldn’t help but be amazed by how so many were able to come and capitalize on the death of a criminal.

Already, a group of townsfolk had gathered around a large loch tree on the far edge of the clearing. Beside it, a long ladder had been placed, leading up to a long twineweed rope. You followed the rope up, up and up to a thick and heavy tree bough. It looked as thick as a man, but it had been cut off after a couple of lengths to prevent the tree from covering up the entire clearing. You had to wonder how often someone had to go up and trim it back to keep it from taking up the whole space.

By the bottom of the tree, Judge Holten sat on one of the large roots that jutted up from the loamy earth. Beside him, Father Kim looked out over the crowd, lips pressed into a thin line. His dark eyes darted side to side as he took in the familiar faces of his congregation. You wondered what he thought of you all.

In the stall nearest to you, you could see Nikto sitting and watching the crowd with an amused look in his eyes. By his side, bottles of eggs, vegetables and even meats were put on display with delicate care. He glanced over your way and waved at you and your uncle.

“Ah, friends!” he called out, “come take the stall beside me!”

Your uncle waved back and brought the cart as close as he could. When he stopped the cart by Nikto’s stall, the old northern man rose to his feet to help you and your uncle set up your display.

You worked quickly with the extra set of hands. A few times Nikto stopped to help your uncle set up his display in a more appealing way. You laughed at the sight, but thanked him nonetheless. Halax knew that your uncle needed the help.

“No no no,” Nikto grumbled as he took the spider buns from your uncle, “put these on the middle shelf. They’re cute and sweet, so people will see them better if you put them there. And put the smallest buns on top! Trust me on this, old man.”

Your uncle followed the other man’s words, albeit a bit begrudgingly. But who were you to argue with Nikto? All his displays were immaculate. Even the products themselves were made so perfectly that you couldn’t stop salivating at the sight of them.

“How do you know how to make everything look so nice?” you wondered as you followed his guidance.

“Secret tips from my mother back home,” Nikto’s eyes crinkled behind his wooden mask, “mother always knows best, you know?”

You faltered briefly before flashing a wide smile, “Well, I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Nikto shook his head, “Mothers never leave their children, Criah doesn’t work that way. We always have our families with us.”

You smiled softly, “You think so?”

Nikto laughed heartily, “I know so! Mother never left. She’s always here,” Nikto thumped his chest before he leaned in conspiratorially, “and that’s how I know your uncle can’t set up a stall to save his life!”

You groaned but couldn’t hold back a laugh. Nikto was an odd man, but at least he was always a fun person to share company with. You shook your head and turned back to your stall.

“Well, it looks like we’re about ready to start selling,” you said as you admired the hard work.

“Can you manage the till?” your uncle asked.

“Are you offering to do the calling?” you replied.

Your uncle nodded and pointed over to the other stalls, “It looks like we don’t have much competition today.”

You glanced over at Nikto.

“My goods are meant to be brought home,” he shrugged, “not eaten here. Yours are better for the show.”

Right, the show. That was certainly one way of putting it.

“I can handle the crowds,” you told your uncle.

“Right then,” your uncle nodded, “I’ll head out and get to hawking.”

You watched your uncle walk out in the crowd, puff up his chest and call out in a big, booming voice. On que, a few customers eagerly turned and looked around before finding your stall and rushing forth. You didn’t understand how anybody was able to eat during these events, but evidently you were the odd one out.

Before long the line had formed and you were up on your feet exchanging coins for sweet and savoury buns. To your delight, a few customers immediately left your line to go over to Nikto’s stall to pick up some jars of his pickled goods. Nikto was never quite as popular, but having the top-selling stall beside him evidently did something for his numbers. A part of you wondered if he’d thought about this when inviting you over, but another part couldn’t care less. You were shopkeepers just the same as he was; you had to do whatever it took to make a good living in a small town. 

As the townsfolk came and left your stall, you did your best to focus on them rather than on the absence of the most prominent figure at the event. Wherever you looked, The Axe was notably absent. Of course you already knew where he was. He was probably bringing the poor victim to the gallows at that very moment. You knew the ritual well enough by now.

The executioner would go to the prison and then pick out the culprit. Then, the culprit would be carted to the outskirts of the forest, at which point The Axe and his victim would be dropped off and The Axe’s assistant would drive the cart back to the Axe’s home. Then, the Axe and his assistant would both make their way to the hanging site. Of course, the assistant would arrive first, and then the Axe would come through the clearing. Then, once they’d both arrived, the event would begin. That’s how it always was, it was how it always would be. A part of you wondered if there was another way. The thought of letting a murderer go free seemed unthinkable, but did they have to die themselves? You didn’t know. Somebody with more time on their hands might have been able to think over the problem more thoroughly, but as it was you only felt opposed to the executions, but weren’t able to think of any other good solution.

You watched the crowds slowly grow in number as they bumbled around your stall. The bread and buns were flying off the shelves at this point. Muffins were devoured before your very eyes. The throng of people was generating an electric buzz in the air, crackling with the winds through the trees. Judge Holten looked out over the crowd with a disdainful eye, Father Kim behind him with a more sympathetic expression. Even from here, you could see him shivering in the cool air. With how his hands had withered away, you figured they were probably more sensitive than ever.

Whispers rippled through the crowds. As with any gathering, you heard stories from all around the village. Some talked about the local drunk’s latest antics at the tavern. Another rumour was about what an old woman was doing with her pets in the shed out back. Someone mentioned that the butcher was getting a bit steep with his prices. Another said the nuns were getting frustrated with the lack of provisions provided to the church as of late. All these stories curled around the air with a whimsical twirl. The stories ranged from the banal to the completely bizarre in nature. The ones about the old woman and her pets stood out as a particularly egregious one.

You chuckled at the latest tidbit of gossip being thrown your way. You waved the man off with a big toothy grin and turned to help the next customer. To your surprise, it was none other than Salvatrice.

“Salv!” you beamed as you packed her usual order, “I didn’t think you were back yet!”

Salv played with an arrowhead between her fingers as she said, “Well, the raptor was pretty easy to track. It was too big to hide from me for long.”

“So, a successful hunt?” you asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Salv nodded, “a good hunt.”

“Great! So you’ll be selling it soon?” you queried.

“Once Tor breaks it down,” Salv frowned, “but he’s getting pricey these days.”

“So I heard,” you mentioned as you served a different customer.

“He’s asking for nearly a quarter of my wage now,” Salv grumbled, “I can’t keep up with that! Hunters don’t make that much, you know?”

“You’ve let me know a few times before,” you replied easily.

“Now he’s going around asking for a hundred stones. I can’t afford that! Nobody can!” Salv clenched her fist around the arrowhead.

“I’m sure the prices will go down,” you assured her, “Tor can’t keep charging those sorts of prices for long. The people in this village just can’t afford that.”

“Maybe, or maybe they’ll keep paying them because there’s nobody else,” Salv clenched her jaw tight.

“Well, I hope not,” you scrunched up your face, “I don’t want to think what people would do. The last cycle was bad enough as is.”

“I think it’s because of the last cycle that he’s charging these prices,” Salv shook her head, “he realised he can get away with it.”

“But those were desperate times,” you pointed out.

“And all the businesses took advantage of how vulnerable we all were,” Salv leveled a glare at you, “they learned from our weakness.”

You shook your head free of her thoughts, “No, I’m sure there’s a good reason. Tor isn’t a bad man. He’s not like that.”

“You say that,” Salv spat bitterly, “but I’m not so sure. I think he’s a blorgron.”

You glared at the dark haired hunter fiercely, “Don’t say that! We’re all just trying to recover after the flooding and droughts.”

“At the expense of the people!” Salv retorted.

You cringed and held up your hands meekly, “I don’t know. It’s not my place to say.”

Salv stared you down with coal-black eyes. Hot burning coals burned through your clothes to your very soul. Hatred, fury, injustice, it all flickered through her eyes before she settled on one final emotion: defeat.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she sighed, “you’re a vendor just like Tor. But,” she gave you a resigned half-smile, “you keep your prices affordable at least.”

“We try to,” you handed out another loaf of bread, “Uncle always wants to raise them up, but Auntie won’t let him.”

“She’s a damn good woman then,” Salv determined.

“She’s sometimes a good woman,” you grumbled, “she’s a slave driver if you ask me.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not asking you,” Salv gruntled.

“I suppose so,” you said. You turned to say more to her when the crowd broke out into a roar.

Salv smirked as she took a bite of the beetle meat bun, “Looks like the show’s started.” 

Salv slunk into the obscurity of the crowd as you peered over the edge of your stall. You couldn’t help but stare as The Axe came into view, easily a head and shoulders above everyone else at the clearing. His hood fluttered around his clavicle with the wind as he strode forth. He looked around the clearing with blank eyes before they fell upon you. Immediately, they lit up with bright recognition, and just as they did, the light went out and he was back to the blank mask of before. You were the only person in the entire crowd to notice how he stumbled slightly when he moved past you to the Criahlin’s stone.

Once they got to the stage, the prisoner was finally revealed to you. A wiry man with a thin, pinched face. His eyes burned dark with a silent rage, furious and clawing inside him like a ravenous beast.

Judge Holten watched The Axe guide the man to the center of the stone, then down into a kneeling position. You winced sympathetically.

“Karl Hoffman,” Judge Holten pulled out his thick book of laws and perched it on his bulging stomach, “thirty-eight cycles, father of eight cycle Klara Hoffman and ten cycle Mathilde Hoffman. Husband of thirty–two cycle Martha Hoffman. Employed as a fishmonger, but was found out to have joined the Raptor’s Claws to steal a living as a highwayman.

“Karl Hoffman is accused of three charges of manslaughter, the assault and battery of two different women, battery of six different men, and accused of stealing over twenty thousand faces. For these charges he has been sentenced to death by choking,” Judge Holten smirked as he shut his book and tucked it under his corpulent arm and turned to face Karl, “you are a damned man, but I will be giving you one last chance at redemption. Do you take Halax as your lord above, in this life and beyond, forevermore?”

Karl turned his thin neck to glare down at Father Kim. You watched as Father Kim stood tall against the withering stare, unmoving in the face of evil. Karl pulled his head back, then spat directly into the priest’s face.

Karl turned back to look at Judge Holten’s reddening face and gave him a twisted grin with a mouth full of crooked teeth, “No sir, I don’t think I do.”

His whispering voice sent chills up your spine. The display itself was unthinkable. How anyone could revoke the name of Halax, especially in their dying moments, was beyond you. You stared, gobsmacked as Judge Holten awkwardly shifted his robes over his protruding belly and waddled side to side. Judge Holten glanced over to Father Kim, who had carefully used his coarse brown robe to wipe his face clean, marring the markings he’d painted onto his face that morning.

You glanced between the men as Judge Holten looked to Father Kim, he himself shaken by the flagrant display of utter disinterest in any form of honor or redemption for himself or his family. You trembled slightly as you waited for anything to happen.

Father Kim stepped forward and presented a bowl of black ink to Karl. The man tried to move out of the way, but The Axe clamped onto the back of his neck and kneeled into his legs. Father Kim gave the executioner a long, thankful look and then went on with his work. He gently placed his forefingers into the ink, then gently pressed them onto the man’s forehead. With a shudder of his shoulders, he painted a large eye on his forehead, then two slashes crossed over it. Father Kim rose back to his feet and steeped back with a mournful shake of his head. The Axe stepped back to hover by his side.

You watched as Judge Holten turned back to the crowd with a shaky breath. He looked up, his watery red-rimmed eyes glanced around before finally settling back on the crowd.

“Karl Hoffman has declared to the court that he does not wish to be reunited with Halax in the next realm. As such, he is declared lost, and Martha, Mathilde and Klara Hoffman are hereby stripped of their citizenship and declared lost as well,” even the horrible Judge Holten trembled like a leaf before he straightened up and turned to the hooded man by the back of the stage, “my Axe, if you’d please.”

The Axe stepped forward from the back of the stage to take the back of Karl Hoffman’s neck into his hand. He screamed bloody murder and thrashed against the giant man’s grip, kicking and spitting like a wild animal. The Axe tried desperately to give him one last chance of dignity by letting him walk up the ladder himself, but Karl immediately tried to dart into the woods. Within a couple of steps, The Axe had his hand back on the back of his neck and gripped it tight as he dragged the man back to the ladder. With one hand on the ladder and one on his victim’s neck, The Axe slowly crawled up the ladder while Karl dangled limply at his side. He tried to kick the ladder over but Father Kim was quick to stabilize the two. Karl screamed until his voice broke when The Axe rose to the top and finally looped a noose around Karl’s neck. With nothing left to do, The Axe slowly lowered Karl and left him to suffocate.

Karl kicked and gripped at the noose around his neck, lifting himself just barely to scream profanities at the gathered crowd. He spluttered and spat before he turned to his wife and cursed her and his children like nothing you’d ever heard before. Meanwhile, his wife watched him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. Her rudy hair waved in the coming breeze as she watched her husband use his last moments not to declare his love to her, not to apologise for his actions, but to spew hatred the likes of which nobody there had ever seen. Even from here you could see her struggle to keep her wailing children at her side. Their littlest daughter stared up at her father with big black eyes, so much like her father’s but filled with sadness and love instead of hatred and fire. You could only imagine her asking her mother what it meant to be lost, what it meant now that their father was gone.

Karl Hoffman continued to kick and spit, but his grip grew weak and he slowly slumped into the noose. At that point, you turned away and focussed on packing up the rest of the bread. Some things were better left unseen.

Glossary

1. Halaxwake: The first day of the week/God-Watch

2. Poppernickens: A species of flower characterized by tiny five-petal flowers that grow in bunches along a tall stalk. Large round leaves shoot out along the bottoms of the stalks. The flower seeds can be ground to get a floral spice used in cooking. Leaves can be used as salves for burns.

3. Twineweed: A long vine once considered a pest plant, but is now used to weave fence posts together to create natural fences. The large white flowers are toxic to most animals, but the pollen has a pleasant smell that some people use as perfume.

4. Wink: An alcoholic beverage made from fermented fruits. Farmers often collect any fruit that spoils or grows poorly and use it to make wink for the end of the year. Each batch has its own individual taste. Usually, years with plenty of rain make the best wink.

5.  Vigil: A minute in their time, a bit over a minute in our time. Used as an expression for a short amount of time.

6. Elves: A warlike species known for being the best hunter/warriors on the continent. Their brutal culture is widely feared by others. Many believe that if elves were more intelligent, they would have organised to take over the continent and wipe out all other species. As it is, they are known for their brawn more than their brain, and thankfully they are too curious and entertained by other cultures to attempt genocide. They find all other species weak, but amusing enough to take as slaves for their own entertainment.

7.  Brak-Hah’s-Eye: The sun, the center of their solar system

8.  Corpse Flowers: A group of species of flowers that grow near decay. They are often seen as cursed flowers, and use of them is heavily prohibited by most laws. However, they are known to be excellent pain killers and excellent disinfectants. Have a notably bitter, sour taste. Look somewhat like snowbells or lady’s slippers.

9.  Turning-Time: Season

10.  Poke Bear: A tiny species of bear covered in spines. The animal will occasionally roll into a ball and charge downhill at its prey. Other times, it uses its long spined tail to defend against larger predators.

11.  Sweetlin: A round, sweet fruit, much like an apple but larger and more filling.

12.  Swintlin: A very sour fruit covered in a thick, black skin. Very citrusy and used in both sweet and savoury cooking and baking.

13.  Loch Tree: A type of coniferous tree that grows in the northern Mormonian forests. Grows to eighteen meters in height with long branches spiralling around to form a canopy below. The pine needles are hard, and often used as sewing needles to make clothes. The sap can be used for glue. The wood is notably difficult to work with because it is so hard, and it has a strong smell that lingers for years to come. Makes poor firewood because the sap forms large pockets in the wood, and when heated up explodes.

14.  Stone: Slang for a face. A face can be broken into one hundred fragments, which refers to cents. Every face is composed of one hundred fragments. Slang for a face is a stone, slang for a fragment is a pebble. Used as currency.

15.  Blorgron: A large, fat and unintelligent lizard with a broad head and a stumpy jaw. Equivalent to a pig, but a simple herd animal. Known for being simple minded and territorial over food. Often considered to be symbols of gluttony.

16.  Declared Lost: When an individual is legally declared lost, they lose their rights as a citizen in their nation. They are considered lost from the light of any god, and as such are considered lesser citizens. They cannot vote, cannot marry nor divorce, cannot receive medical treatment or any form of charity from the community. Many fall into complete poverty as others refuse to be associated in any way, lest they be dragged down with the lost ones. To be declared lost is the greatest social punishment a court can give out. Many will leave to go into exile because of the shame of being lost.

Part 2

Part Three

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

Full Fic on KoFi Here

[electronicnutcycle]

"I've always loved you" ll steven Adler x fem!reader

Description: You have being in the band GUNS 'N' ROSES ever since the start , you've also been in a relationship with the drummer , steven for a while now also. One night at a party where you were severely intoxicated, you cheated on him . After a while you and steven decide to make amends and get back in a relationship

Pairing: Steven Adler x reader

Warning(s): Mentions of accidental cheating , swearing , ANGST!!! but the end is fluff.

I had joined the famous band GUNS 'N' ROSES as , well before it was a famous or well known band , as a keyboardist and had been apart of the band for awhile now. After a while i had formed a connection with the main drummer of the band , steven Adler. After a few years of being in the band and getting to know steven , we got in a relationship. For a few months we kept it secret , but after awhile we technically didn't announce our relationship , but we didn't didn't say no when people asked.

Later on , as the band skyrocket in fame and my relationship with steven also skyrocketed . The incident happened where at a party , it really was a blur , but it was where practically everyone was either extremely drunk on various types of alcohol or copious amount of drugs . I , who also had copious amounts of alcohol in your system , to the point where I could barely stand and on the brink of unconsciousness . At some point I happened to "hook up" with someone . I don't remember who they were , nor do I care to .

After the whole incident went down and Steven found out , Let me just say , it was MESSY . We eventually broke up and I was surprisingly allowed to stay in the band . Even four months later , in the current day , I still feel a pang of guilt of something i don't event remember doing. But every since then something else has been building up . Every since I found out steven was talking badly about me behind my back , the thing I've been feeling and was building is hate . And I would get it if he was talking about the breakup and stuff , but no he was actually talking shit . Ever since then the feeling of hate had been brewing and it was actively make me talk bad about him behind his back .

One cold afternoon after practice , I was just getting ready to leave after staying late . But as i grabbed my bags and locked up the studio , I saw Steven waiting a few meters Infront of the doors . "what do you want?" I sighed out not wanting to deal with him "well , i just wanna talk" "I said I'm sorry man , I was like really drunk I don't even remember it" I barley mumbled out before feeling tears fill my eyes . "I just wanted to , umm" Steven started to say before trailing of , "great! , the one and only Steven Adler is to shy to speak to my face!" I spat at him . "Just hear me out! , please just give me a minute!" "fine" I grumbled as I gestured for him to sit down with me as I sat down on a bench next to the door.

As he sat down next to me , we started to talk .And as we started to talk into the night my hate for him started to melt and fill with the same admiration and love that I had for him as when we were dating , we both explained our sides of the story and apologized. A few weeks later it felt like how we used to be , we laughed together , hugged each other tightly again and most importunately , we fell back in love with each other and a few months later we got back together.

tag: @kay-random

A/N: I hope everyone likes this fic! , i worked really hard on it and i hope for all the writers across tumblr and other writing sites that they can get out of their writing bock and they can keep writing works of art! <3.

[sassy-bi-latina]

I have a new ramble incoming that might get me in deep waters with some bl stans. I'm sorry, I TRULY mean this with no hate.

First and foremost, I want to say I in NO WAY, SHAPE OR FORM mean hate towards Fourth nor Gemini

Context:

If you know me, you know I'm a ff reader, if you don't know me, well now you do. I mainly use AO3.

I'm currently watching 23.5 degrees, I love it so I went to read some fics.

There are 115 fics under the show's tag. I got excited thinking people work fast, absolutely not realizing the pilot trailer was out in 2022. I knew I've been waiting. I just didn't realize how long.

Previously to 2024, there were only 3 Ongsa fics.

Okay I'm rambling here and I'm not gonna edit the post. I write as I think.

So this is the context. Which brings me to my point.

I'm actually happy Fourth and Gemini are not part of the project anymore. I don't know them as actors. But I'm sure they would have done great. But I'm glad they aren't here.

As I said, there's 115 fics in total as of right now, Sunday 31st of March, but once you filter out Night/North you are left with 37, and that still leaves you with some other mlm tags. If you filter those out, you're left with 22. TWENTY. TWO. fics in TOTAL. And excuse me but I find that sad. And you might think, oh maybe you filter out some Ongsa/Sun fics when filtering everyone else. Yeah, I did, like 3 where they weren't main. And not even the ones left are only theirs but they're sapphic ships of the show. It's 25% of the totality of the fics made, in a show THEY ARE STARING.

Look, I'm the first to say, ship whoever you want, don't let canon cut your wings. I'm okay with people shipping, I'm happy people love something so much they decide to make art about it.

And this post isn't about going against these two actors or their fan base. It's mostly a I'm tired post.

I'm tired that sapphics in media always come second or third or whatever place but never first. Not even in their own shows. It's discouraging.

I'm tired of popular sapphic shows in western media getting cancelled left and right. I'm tired of barely there rep in the asian countries' media I watch. I'm tired of being shadowed by the latest pretty mlm couple.

So yeah, I'm happy they're not here. I know their fans could have brought more views which is a bonus. But I feel we would have media flowing with people talking about them and we want companies that GLs can have the same pull.

I'm happy that we still have gay men rep because I don't want that being pushed aside. But I prefer this approach where the focus are not one but two sapphic couples.

I also like that the boys aren't models and that they look nerdy. And soft and just, I just like this approach better.

If you read all this, thanks!! If you read all this and you're a fic writer. Continue that fic you left forgotten or are unsure to finish. You're marvelous and I love you. Y'all kept me sane during hard times.

Final note, I want to remind, once again, no hate to the actors nor their fanbase.

I also don't know how much sense this all made. Sorry for that.

[tryingtimi]

Books of 2024 (in no particular order)

Hi, hello dears! Since I’m out here trying to bring back things, I’ll give a shot to this one too from last year. The “rules” were to list 9 books you’ve read and loved this year, and boy I’ve got recs to gush about. (somehow I could read 40+ books which is just insane)

No pressure tagging: @bloodlessheiratnight, @the-void-writes, @barbex, @indigowriting, @aalinaaaaaa, @approximately20blorbos, @wildswrites, @dyrewrites, @odysseywritings, @jadefyre, @goldfinchwrites, @sodaliteskull, @astarlightmonbebe, @tc-doherty, @forthesanityofstorytellers and anyone who’d like to join!

So Let Them Burn by Kamilah Cole. ya fantasy, Jamaican-inspired, dragon riders, M/F and F/F focus

God I wanted to yap about this one for so long. This book literally got me back to reading, so naturally it became an instant fav and a life-changing book. And, honestly, gave me hope for some YA since I’m not the audience for those usually. The setting is as breathtaking as fresh within the genre, and the story is a very exciting one with all the dragon riding, the academy and the gods that would loan their power. Not to mention the characters which I surprisingly grown to love very much. (And man the romance part made me kick my feet and squel in excitement at some point). So yeah, give it a try please all. Like, now.

Why We Swim by Bonnie Tsui. non-fic, great audiobook, title says all

The read that rekindled my love for swimming and being in the water. A very interesting little book about incredible lives that were saved by or moved by swimming and the waters, while it also shows light on some beneficial aspects that not everyone might know. It’s a half memoir/biography too, but that part wasn’t as impactful I’d say. However the rest did make a strong impression on me so I’d recommend this to everyone who wants to know whats the swimming and water crazed people’s deal.

Jade City by Fonda Lee epic&urban fantasy, east-asian martial art movies and the godfather vibes, grimdark

And here we come with the big guns. I didn’t know this story is gonna be the second all time fav fantasy series on my list, nor that Fonda’s gonna become the tradpub female writer idol for me, but life’s just that unpredictable. Seriously, this book has me by the throat and I don’t want the grip to soften. All that you can imagine from the bleak, smoke filled gangster life to the flying-jumping double kicks of Michelle Yeoh, it’s in it. The story also very heavily leans onto the political intrigue, and lore aspect so keep that in mind. Oh and the best ever erotica (for my taste personally) is sprinkled around there casually too, so there’s that.

Penance by Eliza Clark litfic, fake-true crime, thriller

I was never a true crime girlie, but I was a litfic one. This book is kind of a satire about how true crime impacts people, especially teenage girls, and what's up with the obsession over it. It also explores where reality and fiction blurrs, and how that can impact lives. A brutal read, in my opinion, and I ate it up in two days smh. Also, I'm going to be real honest with y'all here; I was very confused at the beginning because I never read a fake investigated interview/essay before, so I completely believed it to be true (even tho I found it in the fiction genre). So yes, Eliza Clark is brilliant in that sense, will definitely check out her other books, and will never forget the true tragedy she based the crime in the book. Oh and when she brought up tumblr and tumblrinas in the book... ugh.

Cultish by Amanda Montell. non-fic, great audiobook, title says it all

2024 was the year of litfic and non-fic on my end, or at least I tried and am still trying to get back to them. This one was a very interesting book about cults and how cult leaders use language as a tool to create their communities. Or, well, not just them but everyone. I love learning about how and why we use language as we do, and I also love learning about anything cult related even tho they make my skin crawl. This book luckily did justice on both ends.

Daisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid. litfic, fake-rockumentary, fleetwood mac/stevie nicks-inspired

Continuing my march on the "reading the books my favourite series and movies are based upon" journey. Daisy Jones is something that was great in book, but excellent on tv. The whole fiasco and the documentary part works better on screen I think, especially after they literally wrote, produced, sang and perfomed songs. Like what the hell. Still listening to the songs cuz some of them are peak 70s. However, the book and the series has the same vibe, so that's why I could enjoy both. (not to mention it inspired me too) What I would really highlight tho, it’s Simon’s story in the series because my god I love her so much. Sometimes even wish it would have been about her than Daisy, lol.

The Poppy War by R. F. Kuang. (ya) historical fantasy, very heavy war stuff, chinese mythology

It's not ya, okay? There are elements that match that, but overall, it's just not. What the book (and the whole series) actually is tho, is a raw portrayal and an essay about the horrors of the Second Sino-Japanese War, and what went down there, coated with a touch fantastical world and some magical/mythical elements. Loved the first book to pieces. This one might be the closest to ya, with all the academy time, the hint of enemies to whatevers, but only up until the half of the book. After that it blurrs and morphs. Still, the whole series is the most educational fantasy I've ever read, and will always keep the first book as a favourite. It's something everyone should read at least once, I think. But never ask me about the last installment.

The Red Palace by June Hur. ya historical fantasy, mystery, romance

Imagine a book that literally reads like a korean period drama. I mean, literally. Funny enough, I needed a second try to get to this book, but after that, oh man it checked all the boxes. It's easy to read, a fun little murder mystery in the palace, and a great experience if you're a kdrama junkie like me. I still think about this book from time to time, and will read all the other works from the author for sure. (fun fact: the royal family stuff are usually historically accurate because that's June Hur's whole sthick, which i love that for her)

We Will Devour The Night by Camilla Andrew. gaslamp fantasy, court intrigue, light vs dark, some impeccable erotica

We all know and love Cammie. And trust to bring an amazing next installement to the The Essence of the Equinox. I loved the book to pieces, because it contained everything I'd crave in a continuation. An interesting and gorgeous expanded world, escalating political intrigue and a ton of great character interactions. While, of course we still got to spend time with our best girl Laila, and best dick Darius.

[tanthamoretober]

Never-Not-Commenting November

Tanthamoretober is COMPLETE. The archive collection is closed, and we had a truly incredible 101 works submitted through the month. We don't have anything up our sleeves writing-challenge-wise for November, but stay tuned for ~winterfest~ coming to a December and January near you.

Our challenge to all of you this month is to spend some time showing some love to the amazing works posted this month!!!

Introducing Never-Not-Commenting November, a silly name for a really important challenge: leave as many kudos and comments for works posted in October as you possibly can.

How does this work?

Browse through the works in the Tanthamoretober AO3 collection, and read them! Once you've read them, leave a comment telling the author what you liked about their story! Did you already read a fic and forget to leave a comment? Leave one now! Did you read it when it first came out and enjoy it again on reread? Comment again! However you feel it's most authentic to show love, we want you to show up and do that.

Will there be prizes? Will I get in trouble for not doing it? The best prize of all is the warm, fuzzy feeling you get from knowing that you made a Willow fic author feel happier. We are not going to be tracking commenting because it's too big a data management job; this is going to be on the honor system. We're not your parents, nor do we wish to be, but you will know if you cheat.

We will however be putting together some posts with optional commenting achievements. We trust you to track whether you hit these milestones on your own, and if you do, feel free to reblog the post - like giving yourself a badge.

Okay fine I like badges. Where are the badges? Links to come as the amazing stellar @myrebelliousphase works her art magic, but the milestones are:

Never Not Commenting November Novice: I left AO3 comments on 5 fics!

Never Not Commenting November Apprentice: I left AO3 comments on 10 fics!

Never Not Commenting November Master: I left AO3 comments on 20 fics!

Never Not Commenting November Knight: I left AO3 comments on 40 fics!

Never Not Commenting November Nice, Dude: I left AO3 comments on 69 fics!

Never Not Commenting November Semprum Sorceror: I left AO3 comments on EVERY fic in the tanthamoretober collection

I left some comments on fic in October, as people were posting. Can I claim a badge? Yes, of course! We still would like it if you try to leave a few extra comments through November, but obviously if you're trying to aim for one of the higher-count badges and you've been reading through the month, we don't want to make it impossible. What if I comment on other Willow fics that aren't in the Tanthamoretober collection?

We love that for you. Go nuts. Claim a badge. However, we'd ask that if you're commenting on non-Tanthamoretober stories, you only "count" comments you leave between November 7 and November 30.

I'm shy about leaving AO3 comments, do you have any advice?

If you're nervous about leaving a big comment, or if that's not your style, try practicing with saying a few words! If you already left kudos but want to let the writer know you reread it, even a simple comment saying "Leaving kudos, again, I liked this!" is a great way to share your love. Here are some prompts that might help you feel inspired to leave a comment:

was there a particular line or phrase that you liked? Why did you like it?

was there something else you liked about the fic?

Do you have a favourite small detail about the fic? Why? how did the fic make you feel? Do you feel comfortable sharing that feeling with the writer?

Did the fic each you anything? if so, what?

Is there anything else I can do to contribute?

Yes! If you're a reader feel free to make posts of fic recs. These are posts where you share a link to a story or stories that you enjoyed, and explain why you liked it to help other people find stories they might enjoy. If you are a writer who contributed a story to Tanthamoretober feel free to put together a roundup post of the stories you added to the collection during this time. If you tag us (@tanthamoretober) in your rec posts or roundup posts, we'll reblog them during the month of November!

Anything else?

This should go without saying, but we are trusting you all to be kind, respectful, and appropriate when leaving comments. No one likes unsolicited criticism, even if the intent is to be "constructive." The goal of this is to spread love and appreciation, and we expect you to treat authors with the care and gentleness that you would like to be treated with. If a story truly is not to your taste, you are not obligated to leave feedback.

[illumiera]

Hello there! For the firsts ask: 4, 15, W, Z, 🌍 and ‼️

oh, thank you so much for the ask, Senu!! 💖

✨ ask game! ✨

4. first time experiencing grief

Elentari's from a small family—no uncles, no aunts, and as I headcanon that Bretons live a good while thanks to their mer blood, her grandparents had already passed on by the time her parents got around to having her (or did so when she was very young). that means her first time experiencing grief was, unfortunately, when her mother, father, and little sister were killed by the Dark Brotherhood, and while Mara could save her thanks to the divine in her (in other words: that dragon soul!), her family's mortal bodies could never have withstood the touch of a god. she misses them so, so very much. (and blames herself for their deaths, too.) 🥲

15. first thing they remember feeling proud of

for Elentari, this must have been something magic-related! though it was considered "improper" for highborn girls in Daggerfall's restrictive noble circles to learn the arcane arts, her mother insisted upon teaching her and her father encouraged her. I think it was a very proud day for a young Ellie, the moment she tried and tried and finally cast a spell and did it well, and after that, she began dreaming of becoming a great mage or a travelling healer.

W. first time they realised their relationship is endgame... or isn't

I can't help but think that Elentari and Miraak have always had the sense that their fates are intertwined, whether it's to be with one another or to be the death of one another. how much they (well, Ellie, really, considering she's the one so deep in denial they could find evidence of her in Ancient Egypt) are prepared to acknowledge that, though, is another question entirely! destiny aside, they'll realise that their relationship is endgame through the little things: how they can feel safe with one another and seen with one another, how they can laugh and cry and learn together, through late-night cuddles as they talk each other out of nightmares, and through winged flights with the wind in their hair. for two Dragonborn who have always felt like strangers walking on Nirn, at home with neither mortals nor dragons, this is one of the most precious things of all.

Z. first time they said "I love you"

while they're both very loving when it comes to words and actions, both Ellie and Miraak are usually the sort of people who let their I love yous go implied and so unspoken it's downright obvious in all the things they do and say. that said, should there come a moment where they're both ready to become a couple, and to accept that through time and destiny and life and death, they've chosen one another again and again? that's where we'll find them saying "I love you." 🤲 (oh, and perhaps their fic's title counts as an I love you, too? because I'm a sucker for when stories find a way to include their titles in prose or dialogue, and so i fear no fate (for you are my fate) will most certainly be spoken aloud At Some Point!) 😼

🌍. first attempt at worldbuilding, or a notable piece of worldbuilding you're proud of

ah, I love worldbuilding, and it almost certainly shows at least a little in my writing! probably one of my favourite pieces of worldbuilding (and some of the first I came up with, now that I think about it) is the lore I have for the dragon cult and Atmora. canon doesn't tell us much about it, which more or less gives me free rein to invent personalities for the dragon priests, make up some rules Miraak would have lived under, and think of what life would have been like back then... which Ellie gets to see, too, both through Miraak's recollections and through dreams that take her through time!

‼️free space! tell us about a notable "first" in your writing journey!

here's a first! I'm a shy sort of creature, so while TES isn't the first fandom I've written for, it is the first fandom in which I've worked up the courage to involve myself as anything more than a lurky lurker from Planet Lurk. it's been so fun, getting to know/scream with/ramble with talented friends and mutuals and bouncing braincells/ideas/jokes back and forth, rather than just... "I have finished a chapter. lo, it has been released into the wild. the proverbial crickets are chirping a lovely song tonight, aren't they?"

[irrealisms]

my dsmp fic recs masterpost

this one's long so i'm putting it under a cut! includes a lot of fandom favorites/ones you probably already know, but i tried to include some more niche ones as well. check the reblogs for more, i couldn't fit them all in one post without tumblr getting mad at me

Author recommendations (not my friends; go read everything they wrote):

Goldenrayofsunshine

shrugofgod

odaigahara

penink

hoorayy

Zannolin

the_g_m

chrysalizzm

Author recommendations (me and people I know):

sesquidpedalian @erstwhilesparrow

WheelCoveredInEyes @blocksgame

short_tandem_repeats

consumptive_sphinx @regicidal-optimism

monsterloot @aliveburs

cryptofhoney (korethekiller) @honeyblockm

nocturne_csharpm @qwilbur

75hearts (ME! YOU ARE HERE!)

Fangame recommendations:

Good Luck, Minutes Man! by @andhyssops : visual novel about NLM-era c!ranboo. has multiple endings, great art, soundtrack, characterization, etc.

Good Morning, Gogy by @andhyssops : visual novel about c!george. again, gorgeous art, great characterization. i almost don't want to say too much about this one because so much of it is a spoiler!

Doomsday Sim by @bwobgames : doomsday platformer, tommy is the player character, buggy but pretty.

Virtual Ghostbur by @bwobgames : ghostbur tamagotchi!

Character Pattern by @bwobgames : bullet hell with various mcyts (c and cc), tommy is the player character, stupid hard but very pretty

Tommygotchi by @bwobgames : tommy tamagotchi!

Silver Dollar by @honeyblockm : president schlatt is dead. murder mystery twine game

Fic recs (people I don't know well):

devil town by hoorayy : haven’t read this one but i’ve had it recommended too many times to not include. small town horror au. 100k

aftermath by sparxwrites : dream is recovering from the prison. tommy visits him. they have a conversation. neither torture apologist nor abuse apologist! 2k

what i love and what i've lost by Treis : dream & sapnap, dream recovery/redemption/post-prison. 20k

in memoriam by hoorayy : wilbur and sapnap have a conversation. 2k

little women by chrysalizzm : women on the dsmp character study. 1k

dissonance by shrugofgod : tubbo character study!!!!! one of the best tubbo fics imo. snowchester-era. 16k

six foot deep bottom line by shrugofgod : tubbo & q conversation, cookie outpost era. 2k

How to Sex Vol. 4-58 by Goldenrayofsunshine : epistolary fic, tommy pov, canon divergent from the disc finale (punz doesn’t arrive). probably my favorite fic in the fandom. 1k

Chicken Strategy by Goldenrayofsunshine : sam-centric, lots of q also, au where q set off the prison TNT. 20k

The Roman Archives by Goldenrayofsunshine : “Tubbo dies during the disc war finale and uses his time in purgatory to unlock all the secrets of the universe.” 4.5k

Make It Right by Goldenrayofsunshine : Captain Sparklez is tubbo’s dad, crashes the disc finale. my #1 clingyduo fluffy h/c Comfort Food. 2k

Raccooniverse (zombie crossover) series by Goldenrayofsunshine : crossover with the walking dead; doesn’t require any knowledge of the walking dead. tommy-centric, follows canon very approximately for the first two seasons and a bit beyond. 162k and still going, although you can just read the completed parts.

Neon Sunrise by Goldenrayofsunshine : wilbur & quackity, LN-era. 14k

draw up your sword (leave your days ashore) by Odaigahara : puffy joins the server by coming ashore at logstedshire, defends tommy. another comfort food fluffy h/c. 11k

snapshots by sparxwrites : schlatt/q relationship study. very good but mind the content warnings. 6k

the dead don’t dream by penink : what if dream killed tommy and then revived him again and then killed him and then revived him again— (crimeboys whump w a happy ending) 226k

Mafia AU by penink : mafia AU; based on Vibes rather than a specific time period but has Lots Content and Good Characterization. 219k and still going, although you can just read the completed parts.

Fairweather and Foxhole Friends by penink : manburg q & tubbo. 2k

Jubilee Line Satisfaction Survey by penink : wilbur centric, some crimeboys. wilbur in the afterlife! very very good. does fun things with the format--it's a uquiz, not an ao3 fic. another competitor for my favorite fanwork from this fandom.

call this world home by Sixteenthdays, stygiomedusa (grainjew) : another dream post-prison recovery/redemption; in this one, he’s metaphysically trapped in the arctic commune. 43k

l’esprit de l’escalier by eldritchIdeologist : revivebur oneshot. 3k

cause most of us are bitter over someone by honeyblock : niki & wilbur confrontation and reconciliation. (tommy’s there too.) 19k

orphan’s path (series) by aenor_llelo, Alderous, Anarchy-Schmanarchy (Murder_Schmurder), BattleBlaze, ConcoctionsFromHell, Falrisesi, fluxphage, izziel_galaxy, Otakuforlife19, Rocket999 : starts out as a phil&techno backstory. becomes a retelling of the entire server. massively multi-pov, very good characterization, very long. has many Takes i disagree with but also a lot of good stuff. get a text replacer “Lagos” -> “Dream”. 700K and still going, although you can just read the completed parts.

tune by small_lizard : karlnapity relationships study. 4k

applaud, my friends, the comedy is over! by small_lizard : oneshot focused on niki’s birthday party. <1k

it only gets much worse by hoorayy : another q & wilbur, LN-era. 2k

good reasons to freeze to death by hoorayy : tubbo-centric, post-s3 finale (mourning ranboo). 3k

pay it forward by comradeboyhalo : the l’sandburg fic. foolish centric; badlands post-egg healing arc in which they all move onto his house. very canon-typical tone; silly and crack-y but with genuine feeling. 5k

treatise on sin and vice by the_g_m : quackity and tommy and their relationship w religion (scriptfic). 7k

plate of primes by chrysalizzm : poem about tommy. <1k

hunger by Anonymous : probably the only E-rated fic i’m including. wilbur/quackity, LN-era, wilbur provokes quackity into hurting him by pretending to be dream, it’s . fic of all time. 11k

i'm not calling you a liar by Anonymous : jk i lied. also E-rated, wilbur/quackity, LN-era. by the same author as the previous rec, similarly dead dove. lives in my brain forever. 13k

the ckarl mpreg fic by the_g_m : karl doesn’t actually get pregnant in this one. they just want him to. karlnapity, script format, crack treated seriously. 2k

sink secluded by angeloncewas : niki and wilbur, pogtopia. <1k

best laid plans by zannolin : some gentle h/c for revivebur with ranboo and tommy. a bit of a comfort food but in a good way, at least for me. 5k

said the rabbit to the badger by zannolin : crimeboys talk about exile. inconsolable differences fixit. 3k

i can’t stand your taste in my mouth by orphan_account : a really intense but also very good pogtopia-era wilbur character/relationship study. 5k

where to find a silver lining (as the mercury keeps rising) by angelsdemonsducks : cwilbur eggpocalypse fic! 10k

the sea is rising by chrysalizzm : desolation avatar purpled. <1k but the series is longer

Blood Games by ghostdrinkssoda : q centric hurt-no-comfort that has some karlnapity but also engages with q as a bad person. 7k

where lies the strangling fruit by katsidhe : prison arc angst/whump. pretty heavy; mind the tags. sam & q & dream. 34k, unfinished

agatha by headlikeahole : wilbur's suicide note. collage/digital art. <1k

Tier X̅ by Pegasister60 : purpled's limbo is an empty bedwars map. 2k

one last lie for old times' sake by curseworm, VenetaPsi : wilbur tries to apologize to quackity before killing himself. quackity isn't having it. 18k

[sorcerous-caress]

MINTHY <3 Where to begin with Minthara… I guess by stating that this will be colored by the fact that everything I know about her is through osmosis from the wiki and x readers. Would she be a good fit for me? Doubtful. Would she think I'm too sensitive for this world and would not survive the winter? More likely. That being said, when I was thinking about buying the game I was fully prepared to commit atrocities for her.

No judgment to others intended, but I really like how you write her as more than just a cruel, sadistic dom. I mean, she can be cruel but not to me >:) This line from your "how would they drink your blood" drabbles says it best, I think - She takes great care of her belongings. Just love how she can show her softer side (soft for her, at least) but never loses that possessiveness~ And in the "romantic gifts they'd give you" piece - showing you her tender heart and then following that up by giving you the disembodied heads of your enemies? Hooooooo boy that's what it's all about!!!!

Homewarming Gift was the first fic of yours I read? It's funny bc I don't typically go for modern aus or slutty reader but I took a chance on it, and, well, it was good and it was hot, and enough to make me want to try A Beautiful Webbing, which is not only really well-done and atmospheric but also. Hot.

And like I know reader is under the influence of the venom but the kisses at the beginning are so adorable - "giving you one short kiss after another" come on that's so cute. Glad there was a happy ending; I don't normally care about reading marriage stuff but it really worked in that story. And as usual the smut was excellent. I cannot quote this but uhh the last paragraph of this post? https://www.tumblr.com/sorcerous-caress/733264235859181568/driderminthara-dont-do-this-to-me-i-already?source=share I am not normal about it 🫠

https://www.tumblr.com/sorcerous-caress/731664242126864384/will-never-be-able-to-move-again-but-fuck-it-its?source=share You're so real for this. Jaheira is underrated. If there's one thing Pathologic is missing, it's a gilf.

🐿️ anon

There is truly no better feeling than when someone fully understands your vision in an art piece you made.

You get her, you see her like I see her. With all of her beauty and ugliness, her merciless eyes and soft heart. Because both parts will always be part of what makes Minthara herself, the harsh exterior and tender interior. They aren't in contrast nor conflict, they seamlessly work in unison to make this complex character.

Minthara feels like a love letter to every single drow character that has ever been created, the stereotypical ones especially that were brushed to the side. She embodies the controversial drow culture because it is embedded within her deeper than Lolth ever could reach that even when she forsaken the spider queen, she found herself still singing to the rhythm of her people.

I always wrote her with care, a balancing to give each of her traits a chance to shine. Push her bluntness and brutally in the reader's face before subtly illuminating her tender moments.

Moments where she chooses to allow herself to be "weak" within your presence, bestowing upon you the highest honor a drow could ever grant another soul, one that even their parents never receive.

Love is the best kept open secret in the underdark.

If you want a perfect summary to Minthara's love then look at her attitude when it comes to having children. It's very normalised in drow culture for the kids to overthrow their parents and murder them, the parents always mistrust their kids and keep precautions in place because of it.

Yet how does Minthara approach it? as an honour. A reserved right for her eldest daughter to kill her by her own hands.

Minthara doesn't cower or run away. She clearly is still down to having children despite it all. To birth your own murder while aware, to take care and nurture the weak infant who will watch you choke on your blood with cold eyes as you grow old and vulnerable.

You know these stories and fables about kings receiving bad omens or prophecies on how their next child will overthrow them early? on how fear and greed to keep their seat atop the throne for some extra years drives them into paranoia and they send the infant away to be raised in some nowhere village so they me never be a threat to them?

How most of that time that ends up being counterproductive as the child grows up and fullfills their destiny, murdering the harsh parent which abandon their own flesh and blood for a golden crown.

How Minthara never even considers the idea. Not only does she accept it as a fact of life, but she encourages it, looks forward to it.

The proudest she could ever be, that's how much she would've loved her children.

I don't think her kids would want to kill her, despite it all. Especially since she left the underdark and with reader or well tav around as a romanced option, I think the love she desperately tries to hide will be contagious.

That she will be loved out of spite, whether she likes it or not, she will be treasured and her life will remain preserved.

You see, this is magnified ten times by the fact Minthara isn't just some random drow with a harsh life. She was destined for greatness. She was a Baerne princess, in line to become a matriarch to the most infamous and powerful noble drow house there is.

She could've easily been written as a product of her environment, yet she held herself every step along the way. The way she treats us is extremely soft in normal drow standards so imagine how it would be for a drow princess whom only known respect, reverence and being feared all her life.

Even if tav is a male or an elf, she is still romanceable. She still falls in love with us, she still tries to adjust to the surface ways and reach a comparison by her own self without the need for an intervention or a talk with her.

She could've easily been so so much worse and it would've made sense, Minthara already sacrificed a great deal and changed so much. But because it was done behind closed curtains since she is far wiser and more self-willes than any average person, we take it for granted and don't truly comprehend the amount of self-discipline and work it required her to reach this point.

Drows attack others on sight, any different race. There is a prime example of it ingame when you free the drow group from their stone curses, they immediately go for your throat.

Minthara broke through generation curses and decades of propaganda, racism and sexism by her own self.

It wasn't a cheap character development where her falling in love with us suddenly made her wake up and blah blah blah. No, she didn't need us to begin with, she didn't need anyone to reach that revelation. She found the path herself out of sheer cleverness and perspective.

It takes humility to acknowledge that you've been raised wrongly all your life, that everything you stood for were lies built on bigger lies by some mad sadistic goddess who got off on watching your people tormenting.

That's why I like the fact she is a paladin, noble in essence and soul.

I wrote beautiful webbing in a single day, none stop from sunrise to the middle of the night. It was as if I was possessed from how much the sentences weaved themselves and the visions kept coming.

I changed the ending and meeting scene multiple times. The decision to make it a happy ending happened last moment, I had a much more grim twist in mind but decided this one fit better.

She does take great care of her belongings after all.

-

Your praise means a lot, thank you. I wish I was in a better state to show more enthusiasm or appreciation for your kind words. I genuinely didn't accept you'd actually leave a comment after that ask I answered, I thought I must have gotten over in my own head and I should apologise for snapping at someone who didn't do anything wrong.

The funeral hit me hard, I haven't slept in two days as of writing this. I'm waiting for the sleeping pills to work rn, I don't know how I can still read and write without problems.

Or maybe this is all gibberish and I'm not actually writing anything comprehensive? I'm not sure, I hope not.

Either way, I'm sorry. You deserved more grace and courtesy from me, I'll do better in the future.

I hope your day is amazing squirrel anon, I just remembered there is infact a squirrel ingame in bg3 and that made me smile.

It's also so ego boosting that you liked my Minthara pieces despite not knowing anything about her before? It's such a great compliment oh god do I even deserve it? It implies I really did her character justice, that my fanfic didn't rely on the reader's previous knowledge of her character as a crutch, that it could possibly stand on its own as a story.

I'm really happy, thank you for making my day better.

Please do take care of yourself. I may not have talked about each topic you mentioned but I reread your ask many times, and I'm thankful for every word.

[sinningtamer]

Not sure if you’ve answered this before but what are your favourite fics and ships?

Love all your art btw! <3 Thx for all the food!

i might've years ago, so let's go again! i'm gonna answer this question as only NSFW/kink related, otherwise the list would be way too long haha

alright let's start with the obvious: ParviII is and always will be my #1 one ship, even when I dip in and out of the fandom a lot (i feel the term OTP is super outdated these days? but if there was one ship i could use it with it's them...)

so obviously i'm gonna say Talking Body and Payment and Payback by @sparxwrites. because. you know. how can i not. oh yeah, Good Vibrations is also a classic. hiii sparx, i'm sorry for picking your older fics, i just have such a bias. they've written a ton of great stuff over the years though, so go give the account a peak! there's something for everyone, especially if you like darker stuff.

...speaking of accounts with a lot of content who lurk around here, shoutout to @pawpunkao3. lmpᴇarI is one of my favorite ships, and they're still such a rarepair somehow?? anyways I think about Between Bedrock and a Hard Place at least once a week tbh. A New Religion That'll Bring You To Your Knees is fantastic, and i have a soft spot for I Spy (even tho i didn't watch too much empires). again, another author with a whole arsenal under their belt, so don't just take my word for it and check the rest of his fics!

back to lmpᴇarI being a rarepair... @thatstoomuchsoup has Chicken Soup for the Soulbounds (okay it's more pearI-centric but they're both there) and is another blog that specializes in some of my kinks and these fandoms. same with @anon-teddy's content, gotta give a shoutout to full. this is also making me realize i haven't sought out enough poly S0up Group or GᴇmpuIse/PᴇarIgem fics...maybe i'll get back to you on that...

there's a bunch of good explicit trᴇᴇbark fics, but i said i was gonna keep this list concise, so the only one i'll specifically point to is how to deal with your supernatural lust for blood (and other things) in a completely normal and god-honoring fashion. for...reasons. also because it's good!

edit: oh my GOD i realized two seconds after posting this i completely forget to mention @also-an-art. go read (this is) hungry work and honey don't feed it right fucking now. i've read both of these in full (pun intended) multiple times they're that amazing. it's rare that the plot is just as good as the horniness, when i tell you i lost my mind at some of the development in these. also hot and dirty (like the la air) is a guilty pleasure. AND it introduced me to a song that ended up being #20 on my spotify wrapped LOL (RPF warning on that one! trust me tho)

let's get to my other bias, shall we? RᴛSpiff and RᴛS00t don't....have any explicit fics. nor does poly lᴀds. CMRᴛ does, though! I'm kinda picky about how people characterize them, but play it cool and Every Stumble and Each Misfire are lovely (note that the second one is also blatant RPF! don't say i didn't warn you o7)

speaking of lᴀds, if you follow me on main, you know i got into Bᴀnᴀna Bᴜs Sqᴜᴀd just last year (I'M SORRY, OKAY, DON'T @ ME-) you'd think getting into an old fandom late would mean a ton of great smut fics, right? to be honest, i haven't found many that i care for, but maybe i'm just picky... however, i remember your lips, they're the ones i miss, and smoke in your lungs, your lips on mine are SO GODDAMN GOOD i'm not even mad it's only those two i like because i could reread them 20 times. god. such fun characterization. shame the author orphaned them because i badly wanna read more of their stuff.

this is the part where you go, spirit, do you read anything besides (mᴄ)yt fandoms??? and i go, not really.............well, sort of. i like 0verwatch! and M0icy!! Reciprocity is a delightful PWP long fic. i'm also not really an omegaverse guy, but Water Me has such a good take on it i fell in looove.

okay, i'm gonna cut myself off here, enough though i could probably name dozens of more fics if i sat and thought about it. if anyone i tagged wants to be untagged, feel free to reply here or shoot me an ask/dm!!

[rosekasa]

I feel really sad that my art doesn't turn out good, nor does it get appreciated by fandoms. How did you deal with that in the beginning?

aww hi anon 💖im sending u big hugs. im sorry and ily

honestly i did not deal with this Well at the beginning. i started posting art for fandoms when i was 13 and it was not a great time to be both obsessing over reception from fandoms when i was also growing as an artist. it's very isolating to feel like no one really cares about what you create. or, what felt worse, being in groups of fandom friends where i would see other people whose works mattered but felt like mine didn't. and as a teenager that sucked even more! the first time i started really feeling good about my art and sharing it with fandoms was when i was 15, when i started drawing for miraculous.

i remember what shocked me about drawing for the ml fandom was that, for the first time in two years, i wasn't caring about being 'known' in a fandom. i realised how much it had stressed me out in previous fandoms so drawing for ml kind of felt like a rebellion against my own anxiety. i purposely separated my ao3 and my tumblr for months because i just didn't want people to see me as an actual Individual in the fandom (because i was scared i would start caring too much about the same stuff i cared about before). the fact that i felt like nobody cared about me other than my friends made me feel like i could create whatever i wanted. i would write fics with tropes specifically because they made me excited, would draw completely aimless stuff that had no purpose but making me happy, i would not care if something looked bad because "hey no one knows me in this fandom so what's the big deal??" but then like. it was THEN that i noticed i started getting more traction. when i started focusing on enjoying my work. when i wanted to become my own favourite artist.

basically, i guess what i'm trying to say is that it's really hard to deal with feelings of insecurity around your art. and although it seems very counterintuitive (and i still don't always manage to follow the principle) when you can say for sure that you yourself are your favourite creator, somehow other people can see that, and you'll become their favourite creator too. it sounds so silly but i've always had a tumultuous relationship with creating and social media but, in my seven years of having my art account, it has always helped me