#in other words it's Day 102 but finished

[daily-leon]

[g0dlyunsub]

make you mine.

spencer notices that you’ve been skipping a few too many team socials.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: romantic confessions, mentions of alcohol, mental health, hurt/comfort, plenty of fluff, spencer is a huge softie

word count :: 2.3k

author’s note :: don’t think i’ve written anything where reader and spencer confess their feelings for each other?? anyways here’s to more hurt/comfort 

accompanying song :: sugar by brockhampton

“who’s up for drinks at o’keefe’s?”

a loud cheer erupts as the elevator doors open and reveals garcia standing in front of the entrance with a gleeful smile.

“count me in!” jj raises a hand and emily promptly follows suit. the two giggle as they lean in to embrace the tech analyst festively decorated with bright red jewelry.

when rossi declares the first round’s on me! the room breaks into an even louder celebration, whistles and applause sounding left and right.

moving past the crowd with a few happy chants of your own, you finally settle in your seat and stretch. sighing, you shuffle through the pile of case files sitting on your desk and stuff several into your shoulder bag. you tie up your hair and take out a pen from your pencil holder. once again exhaling with a deep sigh, you flip through the remaining manila folders, ready to document all of the evidence after today’s investigation.

“you’re coming, right?”

you crane your neck to your left to identify the source of the voice and see morgan, hands on his hips as he scans your face for your usual smile teeming with enthusiasm. you offer a feeble smile instead, shaking your head as you point to the case file you’re working on.

“i’d really love to, but… this paper isn’t going to write itself.”

“oh come on, not again. when’s it due?”

“tomorrow noon,” you mumble, gently rolling your head to the side to relieve the pain that’s been begging for release.

“you’re kidding. well, text me if you need a hand, or if you just want company.” morgan pats your back and turns around to leave, but not without first flashing you a wink. you watch as he slings his arm around garcia’s shoulder and as the rest of the team follow the pair out of the office, each giving you a wave before they disappear into the elevator.

“you’re not going?”

you turn around to see spencer, who’s just coming out of hotch’s office and holding a case file of his own. he turns off the lights upstairs and walks down the stairs, stopping once he’s in front of your desk.

“oh, um, no. i just need to finish writing this up really quickly, and then i’ll head back.”

you brush a strand of hair behind your ear and turn in your seat to get back to work, but spencer pulls up a chair beside you.

“that’s the third time in a row you’ve said no to them. you okay?”

you sit still for a second, unsure of how to respond. when spencer leans his elbow on the side of your desk, you know he’s not going to leave without an answer, so you look back at him hesitantly.

“yeah, i’m good. what’s keeping you here?”

“i just left a request to take two days off.”

“oh, nice. yeah, you seriously deserve a break,” you nod and offer a small smile. despite your friendly expression, the tiredness in your voice overrides your genuine words. before you can expose any more of your sluggish lethargy, you revert your attention back to your documents.

“yeah, and so do you.”

you turn to meet his gaze. a serious expression overtakes his usually lax face, tense facial muscles raising his brows and clenching his jaw.

you don’t know how to dispel the air of its building tension so you chuckle, playfully hitting him in the arm and shaking your head. “oh no, that’s- that’s not necessary. i’m fine, spence. besides, i took a break pretty recently.”

you rub your forehead tiredly as you speak and cock your head to the side, as if waiting for spencer’s dismissal so that you can get back to work.

“you haven’t requested a day off in 102 days. that’s 2448 hours.” spencer lowers his chin and studies you with his unwavering eyes. you feel your heart flutter alarmingly at his stare; you swallow slowly.

of course he’d be the one to count the days, no, the exact hour, since your last break. you try to play it off again by nudging him in the elbow, but he looks way too serious, concerned even. your arm hangs in the air with no warmth to latch on to.

“do you want to talk about it?” 

when spencer leans forward, you feel your throat run dry. holding your breath, you weigh your next words very carefully.

“spence, i’m fine. i don’t need the time off.”

“too late.”

“what?” your jaw sets uncomfortably when you hear spencer’s response, and a hint of amusement flickers in his eyes before he quickly narrows them.

“it wasn’t just my request that i submitted. i put in yours as well.”

“wait- wait what?” 

“yeah, hotch just wanted me to leave a physical copy for the sake of documentation. but he approved both of our requests before we even landed.”

“hold up… spence, you just… why would you do that?”

surprisingly, you don’t feel mad. yes, he’s just submitted a leave request without your permission, but maybe this is what you needed. someone to force you to take a break, because otherwise, you’d just work yourself to your death.

“like i said, you haven’t taken a leave in 102 days. constantly overworking yourself is detrimental and can lead to burnout because of the buildup of fatigue. in the long run, it can impair your memory and thinking. so,” he says as he grasps the pen out of your hand and closes your folder, “do you want to talk about it?”

as if he’s perfectly hit your pressure point, the tiredness you’ve been masking this entire time instantly unwinds. you let out a deep, weary sigh.

“you know, two weekends ago, when we went down to south carolina to investigate that case? and i stayed back for a few hours?”

out of the corner of your eye, you see spencer nod.

“well, i met up with a friend from college. we just hung out, you know, tried to catch up with each other.”

when you emit a stressed laugh, spencer reaches for your hand. he gently kneads your palm, and you take it as a signal to continue at your own pace. you turn your head to the side so you can take in the sight of him more fully.

“as we kept talking, i realized how she has so many friends, so much fun outside of her work. she’s even getting married in two months. and i just thought… i honestly wished for a second that she was a little more lonely, like me.”

you close your eyes, instantly regretting your confession. are you really making him listen to your childish concerns? you wish he’d laugh at you, dismiss it as plain stupidity and tell you that you were right to keep it to yourself. but he won’t, because he’s spencer reid.

spencer watches you intently, at how you force out a laugh and brush the tears that are welling up in your eyes. he observes the way you shake your head and refuse to look him in the eye.

“i’m so selfish, aren’t i? this whole thing–it’s so stupid. what am i saying, what am i even doing, wishing for something so foul?” your face crumples as you speak, and the words trail off into an absorbed mumble between your sniffles.

“it’s not stupid. you’re not selfish,” spencer hums quietly, lightly brushing his fingers against your cheek and dragging his thumb across your eyelashes to sweep your tears.

a strangled sob spills from your throat, and you lean into his touch, burying your cheek further into his palm. spencer waits patiently for you to recollect yourself, and coos a constant stream of it’s okay in your ear.

“at first, i thought it was the job, spence,” you finally utter your broken thoughts with a dry laugh, “but then i saw how everyone else was dealing with it. emily, jj, garcia. and then i realized, it’s me.”

spencer swivels your chair and draws you closer to him, so your thighs are lying between his legs. like a confused puppy, you let out a small yelp of surprise.

“you need to understand, y/n, that it takes time to find your rhythm, whether that’s at work, with your social life, or just a new place. so don’t compare yourself to others, because we’re all worried about something, and we’re all at different stages of coping.”

his longing glance breaches your lips, and you lower your eyes shyly. his soft-spokenness, undivided attention, and effortless verbal magic read your emotions like an open book. you don’t have to hide. the tears fall, fast and hard.

“let it all out. it’s okay. it’s always okay to cry, but you know what’s not okay? bottling it up all the time.” he pats your knees and rubs his palms across your trousers soothingly. 

“bottling your feelings constantly, it’s what psychologists call repressive coping. numerous studies have found that repressive coping has been linked to a less resilient immune system, higher vulnerability to cardiovascular disease, as well as proneness to certain mental health conditions, including anxiety and depression,” spencer continues while looking at you sympathetically with his soft brown eyes. 

slowly, you coil your arms around his neck and hold him in a tight embrace. 

“you’re not really fair, spencer, you know that?”

“what do you mean?”

“you can’t just cite all these cool facts when you speak. i don’t have an argument to toss back at you.”

spencer pulls away from the embrace slightly, and looks down at you with eyes full of mirth. he bursts into a small spate of giggles, and it’s contagious, because you also exhale a bubbly laugh.

“i can’t help it,” he breathes quietly, and the air that exits his lips tickles your eyelashes.

spencer continues to watch you with the same stare a sculptor would possess over a block of marble, and breathes warmth into your body. you finally let your arms loose and withdraw from the hug, grinning shyly.

“let me finish this report, and i’ll head back with you. what am i even going to do with the two days off anyways?” 

“i was thinking that we could check out the steam engine festival that’s happening downtown? the 611 is actually the sole surviving member of fourteen class j locomotives produced by the norfolk and western railway, and there’s going to be special excursions reserved for interested passengers.”

you laugh as spencer happily goes on his ramble, and you go back to writing your report – this time with a rejuvenated spirit.

“be honest, spence. you submitted my request because you wanted someone to go with you to this festival, didn’t you?”

“what? no!” spencer shakes his head, but your suspicions only grow when he starts fidgeting with his fingers.

“if you say so,” you grin cheekily, “but i could really use a drink tonight. you coming?”

spencer nods. he waits for you to finish up your edits and sign off the last page of the document, and helps you pack the rest of your belongings into your bag. with a boyish smile, he offers you his elbow, and you loop your arm in his. 

there’s a lot to be thankful for, a lot to be hopeful for, and a lot to love spencer for.

“spencer?” you ask quietly. spencer hums back in response. 

you don’t know why, but a sudden wave of confidence washes over you, urging you to say your next words without holding back.

“i like you.”

you thought your years spent concealing your feelings for spencer would have culminated in a much more formulated confession, but it’s too late to retrace your steps.  

almost immediately, spencer looks at you with widened eyes. you’re almost scared he’s going to abandon you and run away in a nervous flight, but he stays put, his cheeks flushing with the shade of deep red.

“y-you can’t be drunk already,” he stammers and then abruptly chuckles, making you wonder if he’s just attempted to respond to your confession with a joke.

but maybe you are drunk, drunk from the hazy feeling of love and the highs of spilling the emotional torrent earlier. you furrow your brows and fix your stare on the office floor.

“no, spencer, i like you as in i really like you. like, romantically.” 

spencer hesitates this time, moving only to press the elevator call button. you think you’ve just screwed up, right then and there, because his brows shoot up in surprise while his lips thin into a line. 

but then slowly, he smiles, his hazel colored eyes light up, and his gaze darts left and right excitedly. 

maybe all of the stars have aligned perfectly, because the air starts to collapse in on itself rapidly, and he stoops down to press a shaky kiss on your lips. it’s unlike anything you’ve ever shared with him, so different from when he hugs you, when he ruffles your hair, when he pats your back. it’s so tender and he leaves you to glow in the warmth of his lingering touch. 

it’s only after he does this that you realize that you’ve actually just confessed to your coworker, the man you’ve had a crush on for so long, the reason why you show up to work with a smile. before you can second-guess anything, spencer grabs your wrist and pulls you in. it starts with small pecks, but then he works up to a bigger kiss; by the time the elevator arrives, you’ve fully melted into his arms.

“2190 days.”

you look up to meet his blissful gaze with your own love-tainted eyes. “hm?”

“that’s the number of days that have passed since i first met you and started to work with you. i uh,” spencer swallows, toying with the strands on his leather bag nervously. 

he opens his mouth, only to shut it immediately after. he looks at you with a shy smile, the bashfulness dimpling his cheeks, and then clears his throat.

“i like you too.”

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 102 (More Winterfest in San Myshuno)

Early in the morning after Winterfest, Ray, the Landgraabs' driver, picked up Ash from Brindleton Bay. Heather was distracted on his arrival, because Lavender had woken and pulled herself up to sit for the first time. The family excitedly celebrated the milestone, but she dressed Ash as an afterthought, rushing to get him in clothes nicer than he ever wore in Brindleton Bay.

Nancy had rearranged her family's holiday celebration to ensure Ash was included, but she rolled her eyes in annoyance when he showed up in a grey and black suit. "I told Heather red or green for the portrait. Even John managed to find a red bow tie!"

Malcolm groaned while his infant daughter, Bridgette, fussed in Miko's arms. "He looks fine, Mom. Just take the photo so we can change."

Controlling Nancy was very particular, and she spent the timer countdown trying to get Johnny and Eva's twin daughters to pivot from their positions on the floor. Nonetheless, this was the best photo Nancy was going to get, because her family was anxious to change into more comfortable clothes and move on to gifts, eating food, and yes, even hanging out with each other.

Miko played songs on piano and practiced tummy time with Bridgette before her nap. Johnny introduced his sister to his youngest son with wife Eva, who was roughly the same age as Bridgette. "Deven Zest? You won't use your real name professionally, but you can't even give it to your children?"

"I didn't think you gave a crap what my kids were called, Nancy. You didn't say a word after the birth of Cristal and Noemi, and now you've got Ash and Bridgette to focus on."

Nancy scowled. "You've made a nice family for yourself, John. I'd say I'm proud of you but for that to happen you'd have to apologize for trying to take me down more than once."

"And you'd have to apologize for punishing me every day of my life for our mother's death."

Nancy pursed her lips. "Well...Happy Winterfest, John. Maybe this year you'll finally get that headline comedy special you've always dreamed about."

Ash hung out with his second cousins - Johnny and Eva's five-year-old twin daughters, Noemi (the blonde) and Cristal (with black hair). "What's it like to go to school in a big city?"

"We take the subway to school every morning," said Noemi. "And there are lots of basketball courts on the pavement outside."

"I go to school on a boat every day," said Ash. "To an island with a cemetery for dead pets!"

The girls thought this was weird and fascinating, and they swapped stories of what life was like in their respective hometowns. They knew little of their family drama and kept to themselves, uninterested in the conversations being had by all the boring grown-ups.

Geoffrey gave his wife a copy of Layla Delarosa's latest bestseller, Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang: Origins. The outgoing CEO made no secret of her appreciation for smutty fiction, and she flirted shamelessly with Geoffrey by their giant windows. "The last time you read a Layla Delarosa book, we learned to do that," Geoffrey recollected with a smile.

Malcolm cuddled his sleepy daughter, rolling his eyes at his parents, and Miko pulled a gift from under the tree for Ash. "It's a little something extra from your dad and me. I found it when I was going through some boxes in storage."

Ash opened the gift and glanced at the photograph inside with confusion. "Who are these kids?"

Malcolm turned from the sofa. "That's a picture of Conrad and me when we were kids. We thought you might want to hang it up in you and Bridgette's room now that it's finished."

Ash could hardly comprehend the idea that his father and stepfather had ever been so young, and he studied the photo in detail. "Were you two friends?"

"We were friends, and we're still close now because we both care about you."

"Are you hang out friends like me and Arron Kalani or Scotti Holiday?"

"Not really. We live too far away from each other to be hang out friends."

Ash nodded. "Like me and Pearl Richards," he said cheerily.

Heather and Conrad arrived soon after with Lavender, and Eva greeted her excitedly. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but it's nice to have someone else here who Nancy loves to insult."

Heather laughed. "As fun as it sounds to listen to Nancy all night, we're not staying long. We've got to get to my sister's place across town before she puts her girls to bed."

In the kitchen, Malcolm caught up with Conrad. Though his every promotion to investigative reporter had been the result of nepotism and not hard work (really true, I cheated it up every time), somewhere along the way he'd learned how to do his job. "So there haven't been many updates about the body that was found by the pier in Brindleton Bay."

"I can't talk about an active case file, Malcolm."

"I'm not asking as a reporter. I'm asking whether Brindleton Bay is safe enough for my son."

"Of course it is. It's not descending into lawlessness because a body turned up at the docks."

Conrad's stomach twisted. It seemed he was always lying to someone, but his captain would fire him without a second thought if he revealed a word of the case to a reporter for a news organization as biased and unprincipled as Simlandia National.

"What are you guys talking about?" Ash interrupted, and Conrad was grateful Malcolm had no interest in discussing a murder investigation in front of his son. "Are you being hang out friends?"

"We are," said Malcolm. "We were just talking about work. Boring stuff that grown up friends like to talk about."

"You should do jobs you think are more fun. Like running a bouncy castle! Can you imagine?"

He laughed excitedly at his idea and they left the Landgraabs in good spirits. They arrived at Uncle Karl and Mortimer's penthouse in the Arts Quarter when Lavender was ready for a bottle and her afternoon nap.

Infant Betta

vs.

Infant Holly

Heather marveled at how much little Betta looked like her mother as a baby, pulling up an old photo on mom Daisy's Social Bunny account of Holly in her crib with a dirty diaper at the same age.

Ash shared silly conversation with his cousin, Tetra, who was only three and still learning to speak. Conrad chatted with Karl and Mortimer, finding true crime-loving Karl just as curious about the murder investigation in Brindleton Bay as Malcolm had been. "No arrests yet. But maybe one day they'll make a doc about the case - hopefully after we've solved it."

"Please do solve it soon," Mortimer pleaded gently. "I'd hate to see Brindleton Bay step back into its more lawless times of the past. Especially with most of my family still in town."

Lavender woke then from her nap, buoyant and giddy as usual, and Heather's Uncle Karl took the chance to cuddle her. Sometimes, he regretted missing out on having children of his own, but sharing such a close bond with his nieces, nephew, and their children was a fitting consolation.

"Brindleton Bay is in good hands," Conrad said assuredly. "Not just me, but we've got a great team. We'll get to the bottom of the case."

Back Uptown, Malcolm put Bridgette to bed. He was still thinking about the body in Brindleton Bay, and Miko could tell it was bothering him. "Maybe you should start making calls," she suggested.

"Simlandia National only wants me investigating political activists."

"So what? If you follow your instincts and find a story, they'll run with it. Simlandia National loves an unsolved murder case."

Malcolm considered his wife's advice with a smile, leaving to do some research on the computer as their daughter slept peacefully in her crib. Malcolm wasn't supposed to work independently, but he had a feeling there was more to the investigation at the pier than anyone was letting on.

For the sake of his son and the story, Malcolm decided to follow his hunch. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: The awkward placement of the family portrait (not centred, Nancy holding nothing where a toddler should be but there are none) is due to me making a first attempt at combining poses to make a full portrait. Ash, Nancy, Geoffrey, Noemi, and Cristal are posed using the Imperial Dynasty posepack by @beto-ae0, and I used @rebouks Infant Insanity Family Photos posepack twice (same pose as the one I used for Heather, Conrad, Ash and Lavender in their holiday pj's) for Malcolm, Miko, Bridgette, Deven, Eva, and Johnny.

Also! I dressed up everyone in the Landgraab and Zest households for the photo and completely forgot about Ash before I set the poses and didn't want to set it up again, so I am once again blaming one of my sims for my own failings. 😂

NOTE 2: As for the clothing changes kind of going back and forth, I filmed events in one order and wrote events in a different order and when I realized it, I just kinda shrugged it off because I was already laser-focusing on getting later posts queued up. It all happened the same day, at least!

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Blood, gore, major character deaths.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Oh my god.... Everything is happening ARGH! I'm actually going to try and post updates daily now for this, bar Sunday for the next Sublet chapter. I am just so excited to finish this series! Hahaha, anyway, I've loved seeing all your reactions and theories!! <3

Chapter 102: Envoys to Dragonstone 

When you had returned to your chambers, it was a blur of movements and thoughts, but one in particular seemed to absorb all the rest. Its dark tendrils wrapped around the others, pulling them into the dark with it, thus making its size almost immeasurable until all other thoughts were devoured by it, gone from the light, and all that was left was it. 

War was coming.

With shaky hands you grasped a piece of parchment and sat at the table. With the ink pot and quill, you rolled the parchment flat beneath your palm and began to write. 

You wrote as though your life depended on it. 

Because it did. 

And with each swift flick of your script, a blaring word in particular seemed to have broken loose from the feeling of hopelessness. A word which had been whispered and cried. Spoken and sneered. A word that had fuelled your hope, and created your despair. A word that you knew, now more than ever, was a need to act. 

Dracarys. 

And so you wrote until the page was full, and tears leaked from your eyes at knowing what was to come next. 

Loss. 

‘Mother and Father, 

To write to you under the present circumstances does little to steady my beating heart, but it is something that I know will ensure that it keeps doing just that. Beating. 

Aegon is dead. Slain at the hands of Aemond. 

And now he is King. And I, Queen.

The treaty is lost, and at the risk of another war coming to take us all, I must beg you, bend the knee.

Bend the knee to Aemond. 

If you swear him as King, he has said that he will allow you to live on Dragonstone and carry out your days there safely and happily. 

If you do not bend the knee, war will break, and I will not survive it.

You will not survive it. 

None of us will. 

My only consolation is that if you do, we shall all live, and that I will be able to see you again soon.

I suspect I am with child, Aemond’s child. And if the promise of your own flesh and blood upon the throne does not satiate your need to rule, then know I hold no grievances towards you. It is your birthright, just as it is mine.

If you do not bend the knee, you must send star fruit to the Keep so that I know of your decision, and may feel its sweet nectar upon my tongue once more before war breaks out. It is the only way I will survive this all, and it is the only way that I will know that you do not hate me for asking you of this. 

It was not my wish to depose my mother of the throne, nor my father, or my dearest brother Jacaerys. I beg for your forgiveness. I shall go to the Godswood and pray that you will forgive such an offence, and pray that the Gods will forgive my sins too.

Until then, I wait to hear of your acquiesce to Aemond and I's rule, or the delivery of star fruit to the keep in barrels full. 

Yours forever,

Queen Y/n.’

Tears slipped past your eyes, and you had not even heard Aemond enter the chambers, nor sense him standing behind you as he read your letter. It was only until he touched a lock of your hair at the back of your head did you know that he was there. 

“Are you ready?” He asked softly, cool patience in his tone.

You turned your head to look up at him.

Were you ready?

Would you ever be ready for what was to come?

If your parents bent the knee, that meant you would rule as Queen, like you had always wanted, and at the side of Aemond. 

But if they didn’t?

No.

They would come. 

Just as you asked.

More tears fell, and Aemond swiped them away gently with his thumb, “Issa iā qopsa geralbar bona ilagon gō īlva.  Yn nyke gīmigon bona hēnkir��, hae mēre, kosti.” It is a difficult road that lays before us. But I know that together, as one, we can.

“Iksan nāpāsagon ñuha lentor.” I am betraying my family, You sniffed, another tear trailing down your cheek hotly.

Aemond frowned sadly at you, helping you to stand.

“Iksis ziry drēje?” Is it true? He asked quietly, “Issi ao lēda riña?” Are you with child?

You knew in your bones that you were.

Although there were not many symptoms but the inklings of sore breasts, you just knew. You knew instinctually that it was true. That the Gods had given you and Aemond another chance of being parents, and you would not lose that opportunity again.

You nodded, another tear rolling down your cheek, one of sorrow and joy.

Aemond bent his head down to kiss you gently, lips brushing against your own in reverence, but his hands upon your face showed the true excitement that he held back. They were firm, and tight, and almost tingled against your skin. 

“I am scared.” You breathed.

“I will keep you and my child safe.” Aemond looked you in the eye, sincerity on his face, a hand coming to press gently at your stomach.

You smiled sadly at him, “Not if war breaks.”

“Even then. I will not lose you, or our child. You are the most precious thing in the world to me, my one and only love. Not even the Gods could take you from me.” He promised.

Your heart soared as you nodded up at him, rising on your tiptoes to capture his lips once more. He whispered an apology against your lips, and you couldn’t help the small sob that escaped.

“Please do not make me choose.” You whispered, hands holding the sides of his face, stubble brushing against the scar of your palm, the reminder of your union and love always there.

“You have already made your choice. Now they must make theirs.”

Aemond left you in the chambers alone to deliver your letter to Otto Hightower and Ser Criston Cole, who readied themselves to leave by ship that very evening. They would arrive to Dragonstone by morning. 

And you would get your answer from the skies.

DRAGONSTONE POV

The morning broke the same way that it had before.

The sun rose above the waters surrounding Dragonstone, and cast the volcanic island in a glow of golden light. There was a light breeze that morning as the maids had opened the windows and balcony doors to Queen Rhaenyra and King Daemon’s quarters. 

They had been dressed and readied, and broke their fast together. Little Viserys and Aegon the Younger tottered around their chambers, playing with tiny toy dragons that had been carved from wood. 

The couple eventually made their way down to the study, Rhaenyra having gotten word from the men at the Red Fork that a certain war dragon had been spotted in the skies, and not seen to have left until almost a dozen days later.

As Rhaenyra shifted the letters at the large desk and Daemon sat lazily before the fir with one leg crossed over the other as Little Viserys sat on his knee, stories being whispered into the young boys ear as Aegon the younger sat on the floor playing with his toys, the door to the chambers were rapt by knuckles thrice in quick succession. 

“Come.” Rhaenyra beckoned, and watched as the doors were opened swiftly by a Ser Erryk Cargyll.

The twin gave a short nod in greeting before apologising for his intrusion, “Your, Grace, there is a ship, just west of Dragonstone.”

Rhaenyra stiffened in her chair, and Daemon snapped his head to the man, quietening his whispers.

“It flies the banner of your brother.”

Rhaenyra stood from her seat slowly, Daemon going her with his son in his arms, the boy nestled against his side.

There had not been a ship to Dragonstone since the day Otto had come to watch her daughter be wed to her half-brother.

“Notify the council, have them be ready.” Rhaenyra commanded, and Ser Erryk bowed his head, leaving the chambers at once. 

Rhaenyra and Daemon stared at each other, Viserys fussing in Daemon’s arms, sensing the tension that mounted in the room like a storm.

“Do you think it’s a trap?” Daemon breathed heavily, smoothing hair away from his sons head as two of Rhaenyra’s maids entered the chambers.

Daemon kissed the top of the boys forehead before handing him to one of the girls, the other scooping Aegon the Younger into her arms before exiting the chambers. 

Rhaenyra moved around the desk, coming to stand in front of Daemon, “I believe we should be ready for it.”

By the time the two entered the Chambers of the Painted Table, the Small Council of Queen Rhaenyra were already standing around it in wait. Jacaerys stood off to the side, his Lady Wife, Baela beside him. 

Lord Corlys stood to the side of Baela with Princess Rhaenys and their other granddaughter Rhaena, all who wore black and red, with hints of blue, as was their new and old House colours. 

All other Lords and Maester’s stood at the other end. 

“When should they arrive to shore?” Rhaenyra asked, forgoing a greeting as she walked swiftly to the head of the table with her husband.

“Within the hour, Your Grace.” Came the response of Maester Gerardys.

Rhaenyra nodded, looking amongst the table before she jumped into action. 

“We need to be ready for whatever my brother Aegon has planned. Patrol the skies and the sea. Have men at the ready for anything.”

Jacaerys stepped forward, “I shall ride Vermax.”

Rhaenyra nodded, though her heart raced in her chest.

The last time she had allowed her children to take to the skies, only one came back.

“I’ll take Moondancer, Your Grace.” Princess Baela declared.

Rhaenyra gave the girl a small smile, “Good.” She turned to face Rhaenys, “Take Meleys to the sky. If Aegon or Aemond are to come on the backs of their dragons, we will need numbers and you are one of our best.”

Daemon was the next to speak, “I shall take Caraxes-”

“-No.” Rhaenyra argued, “You will stay with me. I need you at my side.” Turning to Lord Corlys, she requested the presence of his ships, “Have four of your ships ready at port.”

The older man nodded, moving swiftly out of the chambers to command them.

“You said there was only one ship?” Rhaenyra questioned the Maester.

“Yes, Your Grace. Only one has been spotted.”

The crown weighed heavily atop the Queens head in that moment, the first time she had ever truly felt the weight of it.

At first when Daemon had crowned her, it was foreign, but with time, she grew to not notice its presence, as though it was another set of braids atop her head. But now, she felt the heavy weight of it all, pressing down on her skull, hyperaware that she had a duty, and it was about to be tested.

Once the ships had been pulled to the docks, and her dragon riders had taken to the skies, Queen Rhaenyra and her King Consort, Daemon Targaryen, moved with the Queens Guard down to the meeting point of the path where they had stood before. 

When greeted with Aegon’s terms. 

And then later with the return of their daughter.

But this time, they waited and watched as the heads and banners of the Green three headed dragon came towards them, and they did not once sense that they would be reunited with their daughter once more. Instead, Ser Otto Hightower was flanked by Ser Criston Cole and members of her brothers Kings Guard.

Above them, three dragons flew in circles, watching from above. 

Waiting. 

Ready.

Ser Otto Hightower, in all his lithe glory, came to a stop before Queen Rhaenyra, looking all the more like a weevil that had crawled into a farmers grain.

For he was a pest that had wormed its way into her fathers life, and become the driving force of the usurpation of the throne, her daughter and sons deaths, and the removal of her surviving daughter to her half-brother.

Ser Otto was a man that Rhaenyra as a child had hoped and prayed that her father would have seen through. That Viserys could have seen the man before him was a mask, a shell, and hid his true intentions behind duty and tradition. But Viserys had been blinded by the wolf in sheep's clothing, and Otto’s lies had been strengthened by Daemon’s love for her.

Viserys never did get to see the ruin that his inaction would become.

Daemon, the once Rogue Prince, stood at his wife’s side diligently, as he had promised to do, large palms resting upon the two swords that flanked him, one being the Dark Sister blade. He struggled to not sneer at the man who had taken everything from him.

Taken his daughter from him. His brother.

“We come as envoys.” Otto began, Ser Cole staring at Daemon, his own hand atop the hilt of his sword.

Daemon had not forgotten Cole's place in all this either.

Crispin Cole.

Rhaenyra looked down at the men from her nose. Despite being shorter than them, she stood uphill, and gave the illusion that she was above them.

And she was.

Where she was Queen, they were mere Ser’s.

“King Aemond the First-“

“-Aemond?” Rhaenyra interrupted sharply, worry coursing through her chest, “Did my brother Aegon drink himself to death in his cups?”

Otto reached into his coat pocket, the Queen’s Guard shifting as they watched his movement carefully. Long fingers pulled apart his lapel and dove into the inner pocket, grasping the rolled parchment from their daughter.

Daemon shifted atop the balls of his feet.

Lord Hightower held out the scrolled parchment, green insignia stamped into its papery surface with wax, “A letter from the Queen.” 

“Queen?” Daemon snipped, looking at the parchment. 

Ser Erryk stepped forward to grasp the letter, armour shuffling as his eyes darted to his twin, Arryk Cargyll, who stood behind Otto Hightower.

It was a sad day for either twin, seeing their other half on different sides of a silent war. Their eyes met, if only briefly, all hurt and betrayal, before Erryk took the scroll and delivered it to Rhaenyra.

“King Aegon is dead. And in the line of succession, Aemond has taken his place.”

“What about his remaining son?” Daemon questioned, looking at the scroll briefly before back at Otto.

Otto held his hands behind his back, “Maelor is too young to rule at such a time, and Aemond has taken the Iron Throne.”

Ser Erryk held out the parchment for his Queen to take, which she took whilst keeping her eyes upon Otto, much like her husband, who continued to talk. 

“Bend the knee to the King, swear your fealty to him and he shall allow you to remain here as the Lady of Dragonstone, whereafter your son Jacaerys the Lord of Dragonstone, and Joffrey Lord of Driftmark. The Queen has agreed to send word to you now that the treaty has ended with Aegon’s passing.”

Rhaenyra hastily unrolled the parchment, ripping the green wax insignia of the three headed dragon off the paper, the wax crumbling onto the stone below. Violet eyes roved over her daughters script whilst Daemon read over the top of her shoulder. 

The Queen felt a tide of rage.

“I will not bend the knee to a usurper and kinslayer who is not even second in the line of succession. He has no right to the throne.” She hissed at the Hightower Lord, “Where is the Princess?”

“She is Queen Consort now, and shall live her days with the King in peace and safety. Your blood sits upon the Iron Throne, Rhaenyra, something that should satiate your desire for war. Bend the knee to Aemond, blood not be needlessly spilt again.”

Otto spoke like an old man telling his daughter or wife to buy something from the market that was not needed, and not at all like a man who was preventing a war.

Daemon quietly seethed beside his wife, looking at Otto, and having read two words that gave him the permission he so desperately sought. Daemon shifted, hand pulling the Dark Sister blade from her sheath and stormed forward.

“Fuck this.” Daemon sneered.

Ser Cole stepped toward him, and from above a dragon screeched.

It was a blur of guards, and the sound of men and their blades being unsheathed filling the air.

Ser Erryk Cargyll stepped to the side of Daemon, if not slightly more forward, blocking the blow of Ser Cole’s blade as Daemon moved towards Otto, whose eyes were wide in shock. Queen and King’s Guards met in the middle, a blur of bodies as Rhaenyra stood firmly, planted as she were.

Watching. 

With a swing of the Dark Sister blade, Daemon sliced through Ser Otto Hightower’s shoulder, the blade cutting through flesh and bone as though it was butter, carving down to the middle of his chest.

Blood sprayed from his wound, and the older man cried out into the air, the beating wings of dragons loud above them.

As the King Consort pulled his blade from the Hightower Lord, who stumbled backwards on shaky legs, Daemon swung the Dark Sister blade into the air once more, connecting with his neck.

His body landed on the floor before his head did, which rolled downwards into the chaos of the guards and knights who fought, mouth open and eyes wide.

Ser Erryk blocked another swipe of Criston’s blade, who came at him harder and faster, anger and desperation in his eyes. Ser Arryk, his twin, steadily approached the two as he battled through the sea of fighting.

A few of Aemond’s men had turned back, running down the path to try to get back to their ship, to send word to the King, but a large shadow loomed above them, and with a cry, Baela screamed out her deathly command for the very first time.

“Dracarys!”

Moondancer, a slender and pale green dragon with pearl like horns, opened her jaws and a plume of fire was cast over the Green deserters. The flames devoured the men entirely, who screamed in agony, trying to outrun their burning flesh, before dropping to the floor below, silent and stiff.

Baela, to prevent any more attempting to escape, landed against the path, the large claws of her dragon digging into the stone sides, much like how Rhaenyra had, many moons ago.

Moondancer screeched, head down and long at the backs of Aemond’s men who turned to face the dragon in fear, swords lifted in a pathetic last chance of defence. 

It was an opportunity that Rhaenyra’s men did not let pass. 

And an opportunity Daemon didn’t either. 

The Dark Sister blade cut through three men, and Jacaerys upon Vermax landed behind the Queen and her men, a subtle threat, and a vow of protection for his Queen Mother.

Vermax growled deeply, teeth bared, whilst Rhaenys continued to circle atop Meleys from above, searching the skies for any sign of her cousins.

Ser Cole, sensing that he was fighting a losing battle, did not give up, and came at Ser Erryk brutally. The twin stumbled backwards, Arryk moving towards Cole’s side as Criston's blade barely just missed the twins face.

But as Ser Cole was occupied, and Rhaenyra watched from behind stony faced, he did not see the shadow that passed behind him, nor did he anticipate the thrusting of the Dark Sister blade through the pummel of his chest.

Ser Erryk Cargyll took advantage of the opportunity, and turned to face his twin brother, a man who was the exact image of him bar small scars upon their bodies, and if you had asked Arryk a year before, he was taller. Their swords clashed together, moves and skill mirrored as both men had grown and trained together side by side.

Daemon Targaryen, the once Rogue Prince and now Rogue King, a man who was seasoned in war, and battle, and swordsmanship, stood behind Ser Criston Cole, blade in hand as it penetrated through the top of his chest under his shoulder. Blood dripped from its tip thickly as he looked down at it, eyes wide in shock. 

Daemon’s silver hair, now streaked in blood, lifted gently in the breeze that rolled past.

The drops of Ser Cole’s blood was loud in Rhaenyra’s ears as she looked at the man dubbed ‘The King Maker’.

With a large boot, Daemon kicked the knight off of his blade, and onto his knees.

Ser Criston Cole landed with a thud, looking up at Rhaenyra, eyes darkened by hatred. The blade in his hand had fallen to the ground, and blood dripped down from his wound thickly, splattering across the stones like many of his other men. 

Rhaenyra looked down her nose at the man, lips pulled back in a sneer.

It was quiet on the path, the only sound Rhaenys’ dragon calling out from above, and the sound of blood on stone. All other fighting was drowned out by the rage that pumped through her veins.

And as though connected through a bond, like rider and dragon, Daemon stood behind Ser Criston Cole, The King Maker; a man who had been sworn to Rhaenyra once before, a man she had once been intimate with when she was a young girl, a man who had witnessed the Gods affirmation that she was fit for the throne, a man who had aided the usurpation of the throne, a man who had broken his oath to the cloak, and Daemon heeded the Queen’s wordless command.

Daemon swung the Dark Sister blade one final time.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut @the-jess-life @ssulfurr @out-of-life @madislayyy @crazylokonugget @cicaspair418 @katwmk @relminnie @milovart @teagrex @visenyaverse @bellameshipper @toodlesxcuddles @tempt-ress @dontmindmereading7 @qyburnsghost @55gyi53vtnquwziq5 @notnormalthings-blog @maidmerrymint @qyburnsghost @madislayyy @chelseaouat

Bold is who I cannot tag!

[isamajor]

June of Doom : day 16 to 20

Another batch of @juneofdoom prompts ! This time, lots of our fav Dwemer nerds ! :DDD (and some mild spoilers on Nebs personnal quest, I tried to keep it relatively vague so that it doesn't spoil people but those who have done the quest will understand I think)

16 . “At least it can’t get any worse.”

The Dragonborn had wanted to cut through the snowy mountain. If they had the agility of a goat on the steep and slippery slopes beaten by the icy winds, this was not the case for everyone. Lucien and Kaidan found themselves stuck on a half-sheltered ledge. With the few supplies they carried, they were able to make a fire, sacrificing Lucien's books in the process for lighting it.

“At least it can’t get any worse?”, Lucien muttered, trying to maintain a shred of optimism.

He had barely finished his sentence when a gust of blizzard rushed in and extinguished their meager fire.

“Great.” Kaidan groaned. (104)

•

17 . “You don’t want to do that.”  (Mild spoilers on Neb personnal quest?)

The Dragonborn stared in disbelief at Nebarra's friend, the weight of their words sinking in.

"You don’t want to do that.", the Dragonborn pleaded, voice trembling.

Nebarra, standing next to them, clenched his fists. "You don’t understand," he growled. "I can’t let that happen."

The Dragonborn’s heart pounded as Nebarra advanced, desperation evident in his voice. The Mer shook his head. "There is no other way. He said this could avoid another war."

The Dragonborn knew how much the war had traumatized Nebarra, and that he was ready for this kind of desperate measure to avoid another one. (102)

•

18 . “I’m fine.”

Remiel clutched her head, wincing as another wave of pain throbbed through her skull. "I’m fine..." she insisted, forcing a smile as she stumbled slightly. She had been working tirelessly on the Dwemer automatons, her sight suffering from the strain and causing intense headaches.

Lucien frowned, stepping closer. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You don’t look fine, Remiel. You need to rest."

"I said I’m fine!" she snapped, regretting the harshness in her voice immediately. She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, but the world around her seemed to blur and spin. (100)

•

19 . “This can’t be happening!”

Lucien crumpled to his knees, hands trembling as he clutched his hair. "This can't be happening!", he cried, his voice cracking with despair. He stared at the lifeless body of the Dragonborn, the scene around him blurring as tears filled his eyes. He began to sob uncontrollably, his mind unable to grasp the reality of the situation and to accept it. Everything felt distant and surreal. Inigo placed a comforting hand on Lucien's shoulder, his own sobs stuck in his throat, unable to make a sound. Lucien threw himself into the Khajiit's arms, stifling his pain in his friend's shoulders. (104)

•

20 . “I can handle it.”

Remiel winced as she inadvertently scraped her thigh against a jagged piece of automaton in the dimly lit Dwemer ruins. The pain shot through her, but she brushed it off with a forced smile.

"It's just a scratch..." she muttered. "I can handle it."

Xelzaz noticed the blood staining her trousers and frowned with concern.

"Remi, that looks pretty bad. You should let me take a look."

She shook her head stubbornly, waving him off. But when the throbbing grew unbearable, she put her hand on Xelzaz' arm.

"You were right. Actually, maybe it's worse than I thought." (101)

[ramonaflow]

20 Q's for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tags @hippolotamus @a-noble-dragon @mammameesh @smallumbrella369 @likerealpeopledo-on-ao3 @flowertrigger and @demora00 ❤️🥰

How many works do you have on ao3?

60. 50 of those are drabbles though.

What’s your total ao3 word count?

18,832

What fandoms do you write for?

Schitt's Creek. I had a go at writing for Shoresy too but only once lol

Top five fics by kudos:

Straw-Blonde Hair

102 Words

I don't know what I'm gonna do, left to my devices

Summer Days

Getting Carried Away

Do you respond to comments?

I do. I'm often overwhelmed and don't know how to respond but I cherish every single comment.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None of them. There may be an angsty little drabble here and there but I don't tend to write it.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far fortunately.

Do you write smut?

It's pretty much all I write.

Craziest crossover:

I haven't written one.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No. I would love to but I think I'm too shy.

All time favourite ship?

David/Patrick 🥰

What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

All of them? I'm so stuck right now.

What are your writing strengths?

I have no idea. I'm still a baby writer and trying to learn.

What are your writing weaknesses?

So many. Like I said I'm still very new and trying to learn. Dialogue tags are probably one of the things that stand out. And pacing? Punctuation.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I like to read it but it's not something I've done.

First fandom you wrote in?

Schitt's Creek.

Favourite fic you’ve written?

I think it's probably Summer Days which is a very silly fluffy piece. I really like writing about them pining for each other. I also like you're all i want which is just a short bit of smut which is quite unloved on ao3 but I did receive some wonderful comments on.

Open tag because I think I'm the last person to do it so I'm sure everyone has already been tagged. If you see this and you haven't been tagged but want to take part, please tag me so I can read your answers 💜

[cnnmonbimee]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @milkteamoon thanks for the tag milk <33

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 28! Which isn't that much but I never thought I would write that much to begin with :D!

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 115,038 I wish to write more this year since I was in a slump last year 😤

3. What fandoms do you write for? Most of my fics are JSHK, but I've written a Hyouka fic for a zine and an (unexpectedly) x reader fic for The Ssum. I have two original works there too though!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

..Everything? (地縛少年花子くん | Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun | Toilet-bound Hanako-kun (Manga)) (1,695 words) kudos: 113

Two Lips, with hues of cherry and honey. (地縛少年花子くん | Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun | Toilet-bound Hanako-kun (Manga)) (4,936 words) kudos: 102

Reason For Another Tomorrow (地縛少年花子くん | Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun | Toilet-bound Hanako-kun (Manga)) (14,236 words) kudos: 89

Just Like Us (地縛少年花子くん | Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun | Toilet-bound Hanako-kun (Manga)) (3,797 words) kudos: 79

Bright as helios, Beautiful as anthos, a True Helianthus (地縛少年花子くん | Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun | Toilet-bound Hanako-kun (Manga)) (10,055 words) kudos: 67

Honestly speaking, '...Everything' isn't my favourite and isn't my best either, so I have no idea why it's there 😂 The others are probably because they're long enough to be there, but I do like seeing Tulips, Just Like Us, and the Bridge fic being there.

5. Do you respond to comments? I usually do! and I, myself love to leave comments! Most of my inbox are filled with replies to the comments that I wrote instead! I like interacting with both my readers and other writers :>

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? The only thing that came to mind is Tulips. The first chapter ended hopeful and the second was sad xd Though, I wouldn't really say it's angsty! It's more to bittersweet I think. I have another lesser-known fic that has, not really angsty, but the ending was a little messed-up xD

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my fics have happy endings since I usually write fluff.... I think...

8. Do you get hate on fics? Never yet! I was a bit scared when I posted tsunene fics and even moderated the comments xD but no one ever left anything mean there!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Very very mildddddd in my opinion. And I rarely write smut because I'm shy (pfftt) The only ones I have was for tsunene and they were only making out;; another one is something that I just posted yesterday as a ficlet. If I ever want to seriously write one day though, maybe something sweet like vanilla. I'm a simple person u_u . And I like it when it involves feelings <3

10. Do you write crossovers? I never thought of writing crossovers :0 they aren't really my thing. But I do think they're fun for crack though!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? No, i think?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nopee I don't think my fics are widely known to have them translated Xd but who knows, maybe one day!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Noooooo someone co-write with me someday :);;;;

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Hananene, of course!!! You won't really get any other answer from me u-u I do wish to be more diverse in the future though! And I did entertain in the idea of writing threesome like hananenetsuka or hananenekou but never actually did it ;;;

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Everything in my never-ending wip list u_u Some of them are big fics that I'm itching to write but never have the time.

16. What are your writing strengths? I'm good at writing feelings, I think? I haven't done any self-evaluation lately. Oh but I really love metaphors!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I usually have a hard time to make my writing more descriptive. Sometimes they feel too bland u_u and since English isn't my first language, some of the dialogues don't sound natural and casual like I wanted it to be.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I never thought of this before and don't know if the fics I'll ever write have the settings for this xd

19. First fandom you wrote for? JSHK is what really got me into fanfiction. Before that I always have this impression that fanfics are usually /reader only, which I'm not really fond of (Should have discovered more!!) I started as an avid jshk fics reader, and never thought of writing my own to be honest! Love the fact that I tried <3 it's why I'm here.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Wahhh I think my most recent favourite is A beautiful heart like yours (is mine to hold), which is a fic I wrote for Tsunene Week 2023. I think it's my most well-written piece :') it's the only one that I don't get icky feelings when rereading it. Others are 'The Reason for Another Tomorrow', also known as codename: Bridge fic, and the first ever fic I've written for the fandom, If I Were The Moon, Would You Be My Sun?, which isn't my best writing but has a really special place in my heart <3

Thanks for the tag Milk <3 I'm just tagging whoever I have in mind so don't feel obligated to do it! This is just for fun <3 @voidjelli @insipidenvy @miss-sternennacht @thatsrightdollface @doughnutboii @krispyt @wingsonghalo @etheralisi @kawff33 @kinkymoonaf

[kotemf]

20 writer asks

Thank you for the tag, @lonewolflupe.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

29 but a lot of them are just oneshots around 1 000 words.

2. What's your A03 word count?

206,827! I had no idea it was this much tbh, last time I checked I had like 150k, lol. I'm actually proud of this achievement, especially since it hasn't even been a year since I started writing fan fics.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star Wars, usually Clone Wars but I write so many weird AUs that it doesn't even matter.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Cody Learns to Love with 644 kudos

Cody Learns to Live with 150 kudos

CodyWan Oneshot with 102 kudos

Another Chance with 99 kudos

Visible Confusion with 98 kudos (no idea why this work of all the works I have has so many kudos...)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have no idea, I usually write happy endings or more like the fics that are supposed to have angsty endings are the ones I haven't finished yet. For now it's probably my fill for day 5 of CodyWan Week 2024 but it's not really the ending that's angsty, it's the stuff that happens before that...

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

I don't know, I have a lot of happy endings but I'm going to mention A Lifetime Supply Of Homemade Meals And Knit Sweaters For The Coruscant Guard which is one off my fills for CorrieWeek 2024 and I really wish this thing got more attention so this ending is happier than the other ones because I said so :).

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really, I only received one hate comment in my entire "career" and it was some hater who got banned before I even read that comment for commenting hate on many works so that wasn't directed at me. I'm glad that everyone I've met are polite.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

No. I have no iterest in reading nor writing smut. Also my mom reads my works.

10. Do you write cross overs? What's the craziest one you've written?

I don't really like crossovers, they tend to get confusing and I like it when everything makes sense. Hope that makes sense.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No and I search my more popular works in the browser just to be sure from time to time since I've heard horror stories of fics being sold on Amazon and stuff.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I was playing with the thought of translating my works into my native language but decided against it since it probably wouldn't get much attention anyway and, more importantly, Star Wars in my native language sounds incredibly cringe. Like I'm sorry, I love my language, ok, but translated Star Wars is terrible.

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

No but I would love to.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Uh... hard to tell. Probably CodyWan or Foxiyo. I also love SabEzra but I've never written anything from the Rebels era.

15. What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever wilI?

That Was Not Supposed to Happen. This is my... second? fan fiction ever and I still love the idea but I haven't written it in so long and the parts that I've written already would need A LOT of editing.

16. What are your writing strengths?

So... I'm not sure what exactly this question means...

If it's about what I write the best, you tell me.

If it's about how I write, I have this huge almost super power I would say because I literally go, sit down and write. I can even skip the step of sitting down. I never realized how much people usually struggled with getting into the writing mode and stuff until I got Tumblr. Like sure, sometimes I get a block but I usually really just decide I want to write and then just write.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I want to write about topics I know nothing about. I write about stuff I know nothing about. Like I write about children but really, it's just my imagination of how a little child would act. Or for example any social workers reading my Cody Learns to Love Verse would probably be surprised at how the galactic social services work. Because I just made everything up.

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

Actually, I use the fictional language of mandalorians - mando'a - in dialogues quite a lot since I headcanon that the clones speak it and I also love mandalorian culture. I don't think I would use any real life languages in fan fiction but if I was writing an original work, I would sure include some of my native language and also some Spanish because I love Spanish.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars. I still write for Star Wars. I don't think I'll ever write for anything else in the near future because there is still a lot of Star Wars stuff I haven't explored yet and my obsession isn't fully satisfied. I want to read Jango Fett: Open Season in the near future so probably expect some traumatized baby Jango.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

A hard question but probably Cody Learns to Love since I'm still proud of finishing a fic with over 100k words.

---

NPT: I can't really think of anyone to tag but whoever wants to participate can.

[theoriginalladya]

20 Fanfic Questions

I was tagged by @bioticbooty. Thank you, friend!

Tagging @mtreebeardiles @tiny-banana-time @shadoedseptmbr and @wrathoscribbles and anyone else who wants to participate.

How many works do you have on AO3?

153 stories across 40 series

2. What's your total AO3 words count?

2,700,745

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Mass Effect. Some Dragon Age in the past and some crossover worlds with ME (World of Darkness, WWII, etc.). Potentially Baldur's Gate 3 in future if the muses start talking.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ever Constant - My Dragon Age epic fic. FemCousland/Nathaniel Howe, pre-Blight through Dragon Age: Origins. (103)

Dribbles & Drabs - a collection of writing prompts for various pairings, mostly Mass Effect related, mostly Caleb Shepard but also includes Michael Shepard, Kristofer Shepard, Tessa Shepard, Abbots (Abby Williams/Major Coats) and a few others. (102)

Found Family - A Collection of Drabbles - specific writing prompts from the Dribbles & Drabs collection related to Caleb Shepard/Kaidan Alenko and their kids. (92)

Destiny's Road - married Shep/Shep AU pairing set in ME1, first of the three game related stories. (83)

Destiny's Fate - divorced ShepShep AU pairing set in ME3, third of three game related stories. (64)

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

I do, yes! I love to hear from readers!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably either Bury Me In Willow , Give Me Peace, or Never Alone.

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

Difficult to say, but Shepard in Sherwood is a pretty fun, positive one.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have two or three times, unsolicited comments from people who believe their opinion matters more than how I want to tell my story.

9. Do you write smut. If so what kind?

It depends. I have in past, I do on occasion these days, but it's very rare because I'm just not that comfortable writing it. I tend to stress a lot more when writing smut, too.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Several, actually. Most of mine are crossovers with historical time periods rather than fandoms (though there are a couple) ME/World of Darkness, ME/WWII, ME/ME Andromeda, a couple of ME/Celtic Ireland, and a new ME/American Revolution idea. I have a couple ideas for ME/DAO crossovers, but have yet to start them.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

A couple small, old ones.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Translated, no. Podcasted, yes.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Yes. In 2022, @happychica and I began writing Caleb Shepard in her Modern ME series, The Town of Norman in the story, As Luck Would Have It

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

mshenko and femshenko. Okay, who am I kidding, anyone and Kaidan - Alenkoats (with Coats), Reylenko (with Reyes Vidal), Parasenko (with Gianna Parasini). Another very high fave of mine (because of Caleb and Kaidan) is Abboats - Abby Williams/Major Coats.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I would love to bring all the hundreds of ideas I have drabbled on (but not shared), or started but haven't gotten back to, but it probably won't happen. For now, I just take it a day at a time and hope the muses will keep inspiring me so I can get more done.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Plotting.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Just about everything else. I have moments where I sort of go 'zen' and can get good things going, but it isn't consistent for me, and I wish it was. Still, I'm constantly working on them, so I hope I have at least improved them somewhat over the years and will continue to do so.

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

I have done, to a point, with fics, but not usually more than an expression here or there. If I do, it's usually French because I have the most experience with it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Dragon Age

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

This is like asking me to pick which of my children is my favorite!!!

(Okay, so I only have one kid - but I have TONS of stories!!!)

For now I will say anything with Caleb Shepard. He has been such a wonderful learning experience for me and continues to be, and I love how his world has been turning out - past, present and future. Can't wait to share it all!

[thepatchycat]

hellooo! 👋

i hope it as okay to tag you in the WIP game!!! 😅😅 you have so many cool projects underway!!

I would love to hear more about your Defiance series! Side stories and spin offs?! What a world you must be creating! 🤩

thanks and have a lovely day !!☀️

Certainly! :D I don't always respond to tag games, but I do always appreciate being tagged in them. This one especially makes for a nice excuse to ramble about projects, and I'm delighted to talk about Defiance~

I'm pretty sure Defiance (the main fic) is the second fanfiction I've ever worked on in earnest and also my first and only longfic (not counting some sort of journal thing for Pokemon X I think I started many years ago, as I quickly lost interest in that project; otherwise, I hadn't really tried my hand at writing fic until 2020, despite reading it for much longer). Back in early 2021, with far too much time on my hands and having recently finished binge-watching all of The Clone Wars TV show, I felt very strongly that Fives needed to live and everyone deserved a happier ending, so I started planning a fix-it (actually the idea may have begun cooking back even before I finished the show, but February 2021 is apparently when I created the first doc).

It, uh, spiraled a little.

The planning/notes document is currently sitting at 102 pages (~46k words) of loose outline, worldbuilding notes, character notes, media notes, etc. The fic document itself is at 127 pages (~49k words) of stuff ranging from rough outline to fully written chapters and outtakes. There is also a Sheets file with timelines so I can track who is where, and when. The Sidestories doc is for ideas that would probably take place during Defiance but not be part of the more central plot, like bonus side chapters, and the Spin-offs doc is for other fic ideas that would take place in the same universe—some of which have graduated to their own documents. Though I've not been making consistent progress in the actual writing and have a very long way to go, I am lost in this sauce.

Anyway, the general plot of Defiance is as follows: unbeknownst to Palpatine and the general public, a timely intervention saves Fives' life. This allows him to actually explain himself to the Jedi, who along with the clones investigate the chips further and work behind the scenes to prevent Order 66 from happening while trying to figure out how to take down who's behind it. Critically, despite their suspicions they do not have hard evidence of Palpatine's involvement, so most events parallel canon up through ROTS with the investigation/preparation taking place discreetly, until the train hops off the rails to avoid sailing off the cliff.

If you'd like a sneak peak snippet, here's the first page or so of the main fic below the cut!

Something is wrong. The Force is muddled with a constant and indistinct unease, as it has been for years now—moreso on Coruscant than anywhere else, to Shaak Ti's perceptions. Its warnings are difficult to discern with any specificity. Even so, it murmurs them now. And Shaak possesses her own instincts, enhanced by the Force but extant outside her connection to it; these, too, whisper to her that something is wrong, as she watches Knight Skywalker leave the Jedi Temple conference room to find Captain Rex and investigate the situation with Fives. They are the best fit to track him down and the most likely to confront the rogue clone without further violence. Shaak warned Skywalker that Fives has been acting differently without his chip, that he may not be the man they knew—though she herself is reluctant to believe it—and the Knight and Captain are plenty capable of handling themselves. They will be all right. Still, something is wrong in a way she cannot yet define, and so Shaak Ti decides to join the hunt. Since the Jedi have not been asked to search for Fives, she does not contact the Coruscant Guard when she leaves the Temple. Instead she steps out of the building, pulls up the hood of her cloak, and makes for one of the speeder bikes kept at the Temple for general use. It whirs to life under her hands, and she rides to the nearest transportation portal leading down into the undercity. As she descends, passing speeders of all makes and sizes, Shaak Ti considers what she knows. She is well aware of her own struggles in becoming emotionally attached to the clones; her role on Kamino requires her to balance her care for them as people with the need to defend the galaxy. But many of them, such as Domino Squad, inevitably leave an impression. She watched Echo and Fives grow from bickering cadets to determined protectors, some of the best of their brothers. Her belief in their character during their final tests had not been misplaced. And yet, over these past few days Fives repeatedly defied the Kaminoan doctors, removed his chip, claimed something about a conspiracy, then attacked the Chancellor and fled. Shaak cannot deny these facts, and she must not allow personal feelings to cloud the truth. Then there are the Kaminoans. Shaak clashes frequently with their attitudes toward the clones, the way they view them as products rather than sentients. Nala Se’s arguments for terminating Tup and assurance that the chips are not a problem fall in line with her position as a manufacturer. And Shaak is well aware that the Kaminoans have not shared all of their secrets with her, as she is not owed them. But the medical scientist's resistance had been… spirited. None of this paints a clear picture. As they concluded in the meeting back at the Temple, the Jedi need more information. The familiar sound of a military engine hums past, and Shaak turns her head to watch a pair of gunships heading down the portal through one of the military lanes. She swerves out of the civilian traffic and dives after them, further and further below the surface of the city.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #102

I finished one of the orbs today. The other one still needs work (and yet another layer of epoxy… sigh…), but this one is done:

Huzzah. I wonder what kind of price it might fetch. Or maybe if one of my friends really likes it, I'll just let 'em have it. Why not.

Yesterday, I finished this New Game cycle of Salt and Sanctuary. I stream it on Twitch every now and then because it amuses me.

And it just occurs to me, you might be very confused. "Lumine!" you might exclaim, shocked. "You are normally such a gentle soul! Why do you play this horribly violent and frightening video game?? What would prompt someone like you to cut zombies into bloody chunks with a comically oversized pair of scissors in such a detached, precise, and almost terrifyingly clinical fashion??? Should I be scared????"

...And the answer to that is simple. For every New Game cycle, I am on a rescue mission. And no. No you should not be scared. The game offers me no other way to interact with the zombies, and I'd like to minimize their suffering. I don't hate them.

…I imagine that the above statement has done nothing to assuage your confusion. Indeed, you might be even more confused. So I'll try to explain. Though if you haven't played this and intend to someday, you might not want to continue reading.

The character you play in this game begins on a boat. The story given is that you're supposed to be part of a crew escorting a princess across the sea for a marriage alliance. As you play through the game, it becomes clear that the "princess" is nothing more than a slave in noblewear, and the entire ship and its crew are sacrifices for an entity called The Nameless God. In the middle of the voyage, the ship gets attacked by brigands, and I guess also a giant freaking Kraekan called The Unspeakable Deep. You can win this fight, but it's very difficult, so most novice players lose. Win or lose, you black out. And when you come to, you're on some unknown island.

So then you wander around the island. You probably end up noticing that the island is full of walking corpses. You'll find a few friendly faces amongst all the things that want to kill you, but the fact of the matter is that most of the things skulking around are either monsters, or humans who are now broken, shambling, and invariably hostile shadows of their former selves. The only thing for it, at least until you reach the end, is to disable them from attacking you. And in this world, there is precisely one way to do that. But, just as you respawn when you get felled, so do they.

And then you meet the Scarecrow. Supposedly, the Scarecrow is the voice of the Nameless God that rules the island:

…And for sure, at first glance, all his words certainly sound super duper conceited and evil and scary. And to be sure, this character really used to piss me off at first; the thought went like, "what a pretentious drama king; he's talking all big and like I'm nothing, only to fall down in the end, like every other bloodthirsty wannabe who tries to get a piece of me and ends up instead with my comically oversized scissors stuffed through their skull. How pathetic."

But you know? By now, I have dozens of playthroughs of this game. I have invested literally thousands of hours in this. And after a while - reading the lore in the skill tree, reading the descriptions of monsters, and the descriptions of various items… things started to click, I guess.

One of the things that clicked was this set of lines, which I initially took as threatening:

Such a brave, foolish curiosity. It will struggle then. And it will bleed. And it will fall. And one day, when it finds itself beaten and broken, gasping for air, choking on its own blood and tears… …that will be the day that it kneels. And I will consume it.

My initial response to this was, "why don't you go fuck a cactus? maybe some time with a couple of these might change your attitude:"

...After all, what other people do with consenting succulents in their spare time is no business of mine. It's supposedly a free country or something.

But then… I realized. This entity has been on this Island for probably more years than I know how to count. This entity has seen countless souls succumb to the Island. For him, the part where you kneel and get consumed is nothing more than what seems like an inevitability. He is describing to you the most likely trajectory of things, NOT necessarily the thing that he wants.

And you know? Yes, the entity does call me "foolish", but from his perspective, trying to go toe-to-toe with him is like trying to fight the sun. You CANNOT fight the fucking SUN, so "foolish" seems fair. But he also calls me "brave", and his stance, quite explicitly, is one of curiosity. So if I read these lines clinically, without adding implication, what I see is an entity that is surprised and awed by me and my determination to do the impossible. Also in his favor is the simple fact that so far, this entity is the only one that uses the correct pronouns for me. I will take any pronoun thrown at me, but only because people are not comfortable referring to me as "it".

It's established that this entity, this Nameless God, who supposedly deigns to speak to me through this freaky Scarecrow thing, is trying desperately to become a Candlelit Soul. And, in a misguided effort to become Candlelit, he keeps taking the sacrifices and eventually the souls of the ruling class (corrupt evildoers) back in the "real world" (the island is certainly NOT the "real world"). In his preying upon the greedy and corrupt, characters like mine end up becoming collateral damage. The island is shaped by the memories carried to it by the people who end up there. Or at least, this is how I understand it.

But this part stuck with me:

While they scurry to and fro, I am. While they cherish their petty deities, idols, and false lords, I am. While they fight their trivial wars, live and die for mortal kings and scoundrels, I am. All priests of false gods kneel to Me. All kings of empires great and small kneel to Me. Life kneels to Me. Death kneels to Me.

…And you know. If you read it through a more ordinary, human lens, I can see how this would be interpreted as self-important arrogance. But it's important to remember that this entity is NOT human. So then it becomes important to interpret the words at face value, rather than apply any sort of implication. So from that, I gathered an interpretation that is closer to, "As long as living things continue to act from a place of fear, cruelty, and greed, I must continue to exist. So much life is lived from a place of fear. And so much death is delivered to living things in the name of fear. I am the avatar of fear and despair, therefore, all things done from that place is an act of kneeling to me, whether I like it or not."

…And for sure, this entity must not like it, because if he did, why would he be trying so hard to exit his existence by becoming Candlelit in the first place? As I understood it, this entity came into being as a result of the various cruelties of existence; he does not DEMAND, per se, that mortals make sacrifices to him - they just do, for the sake of their own corrupted agendas. And he's trying, as far as I can tell, to exit being in this role; if he becomes Candlelit, then he gets to escape. We've already established that he is awestruck and curious about me. As the entity that rules this island, if he REALLY wanted me to kneel, he could simply appear and smite me while my level is low, over and over again, every time I reanimate, until I become a mindless husk like the zombies that shamble around - it is established that you lose a little bit of yourself and your sanity every time you die and are reanimated. Instead, he simply watches me, almost shyly, maybe even full of hope, as I grow stronger, and occasionally stopping, almost like a lost puppy, to ask me questions that, by now, just seem very lonely to me. Questions like:

Does it wish to know Me?

…and…

Does it know what I have done?

…Interestingly, if you answer "No" to the first question, he responds as though he is hurt by the rejection. And if he really thought himself above me, he would neither deign to speak to me, nor be hurt and angry that I don't want to know him.

And… here's another thing. I am 10000% certain that this entity's existence must be one of IMMENSE suffering. Whether or not he realizes, HE is the one kneeling, all the damn time. What we see when speaking to him is the man on the cross - broken, bleeding, rotted, and partially eviscerated. This Nameless God claims that the man on the cross is nothing more than a vessel that acts as his voice, but… I can say for certain that that's absolutely not true. The Nameless God would LIKE you to believe that he is the big, scary-looking candelabra'd thing that you fight in the end, but that's just an illusion that crumbles and fades easily as soon as you strike the final blow. It's not him. It's a lie. This image you fight is merely a projection of what he WANTS to be.

No, the Nameless God is waiting for you in the room beyond, broken, bloody, bound to his cross, and likely in unimaginable amounts of pain. And I know that he is the man on the cross because you have the option to become the Nameless God. When you speak to him in the next room, the position of his head makes his silence look almost pleading; I think he is silent because he does not know how to say, "Please help me."

Your options are "Take Helm" or "Do Nothing". If you take the helm, then YOU become the one bound to the cross. You take his place, and presumably, he gets released from the prison that is this Island; he gets to know an end to suffering. He gets to know peace. "Do Nothing", knowing what I know, reads callously to me.

So every time I get to the end, I take the helm - not because I want to rule the Island, but because I want this entity's suffering to end. I want to take his place so that he can move on to the next thing, so that he doesn't have to hurt anymore, so that he might have an opportunity to heal. Choosing to take his place instead of choosing to return to the world of the living is the kindest thing I can do. One of the main themes of this game, repeated over and over, is getting back up and trying again after having been felled, and of the determination to keep learning, growing, and moving forward, even in the face of overwhelming difficulty. And so, I assume that if I take his place, then he, too, can get back up. He can be in a position where he no longer has to kneel to the pain he is in. He can choose something else. He can ascend to being Candlelit.

…I'd do the same for you with even less hesitation. I would take your place on any cross so that you might be free to go. So that you might be free to mourn, to weep, to fall to your knees… and then get back up. To decide to try again, despite the obstacles. To make different choices. To be brave enough to choose kindness, even when things hurt. To ascend into acting from a place of compassion and courage, instead of kneeling to your conditioning and pain.

Sephiroth. You gotta get up off your knees okay? If that's you going around saying weird things and doing mean things (I'm not sure that it is you, but whether it's you or Jenova is not relevant to me; my unconditional positive regard for you remains the same), then if you keep going on like this, it's not going to end well for you. And what's more… you can't claim that you're better and stronger than everyone else, but then act in the same cruel ways as the people you've grown to resent; it's a logical fallacy - surely someone as smart as you can see that, can't you?

Mirroring the same cruelty that was given to you for most of your life doesn't suit you. Being enslaved to the conditioning that leads you to being codependent doesn't suit you. Acting from a place of fear and pain doesn't suit you. Surrendering to the memories you carry doesn't suit you. You're better than this. You're so much better than this. So come on… please reach for the hands extended towards you. Please strive towards the voices of those who love you and believe in you and your fundamental goodness. Please.

I'll write to you again soon. I love you. Stay safe.

Your friend, Lumine

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

Tagged by @batrachised. Thank you!

1-How many works do you have on AO3?

102. We will not discuss the number of fics posted on the ff.net account I maintained in high school.

2-What's your total AO3 word count?

298,956. Lower than I would have expected, actually. My longfic days were primarily, again, in high school, so on AO3 it's mostly shorter one-shots.

3-What fandoms do you write for?

Currently on a Blue Castle kick. Previously my main fandom was Les Mis, mostly bookverse, and prior to that I spent a decade or so as a Harry Potter girl. I have dabbled in other things, but none of them deeply enough for me to consider them actual fandoms that I am in.

4-What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In the darkest time of year -- Hadestown, post-canon. I believe this is also the fic with the most notes on tumblr.

The Black Sheep and the Mad Muggleborn: a love story -- HP, post-canon. I really liked writing this one and, like all my HP work, now have deeply conflicted feelings about it.

And I could be enough -- Power Rangers 2017, character study. I only wrote 2 fics for this movie and I adore them both so much.

Stormforged -- ASOIAF, alternate ending. This was written for Femslash February and represents the sum total amount of time I have spent thinking about ASOIAF since reading the first four books in a week during standardized testing week back in high school.

We rose with voices ringing -- HP, alternate post-canon. Can you tell I default to song lyric titles a lot and also enjoy musicals?

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

I am trying to be better about this! For a long time I didn't because I hated everything I wrote the moment I published it and the only way I could publish at all was to throw a fic out the door and never think of it again.

6-What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

You know, I'm not sure. I haven't done full on angst in a long time. Probably either Waiting for sunrise (LM) or With nothing to remember (also LM). Honorable mention goes to Real in its consequences (still LM) which exists solely to take a ridiculous premise seriously.

7-What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

It's new and still my beautiful child, so this one goes to Ties That Bind, Bonds That Strengthen (TBC).

Oh! Honorable mention to The title of citizen (LM Animates-verse). It's... it just has to be read to be understood, tbh.

8-Do you get hate on fics?

Not since the old aforementioned high school era ffn account, where I once got flamed for writing het. Ah, the good old days. (It wasn't even endgame het, lol.)

9-Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Nope. I've played with some fade to black and a couple, like, sensuous bed scenes, but I find it boring to read so I don't write it.

10-Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have come to love crossovers, honestly. I like putting characters into Situations. Can't think of any particularly crazy ones though.

11-Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I've ever found or been told about, although realistically with how much I've written and how long I've been doing it I'm sure there are some out there.

12-Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, but I can't off the top of my head remember which ones, unfortunately.

13-Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No. I am a dreadful co-writer. I will, however, build a world with you at the drop of a hat. Shout out to @steelplatedhearts for the PoTC mermaid worldbuilding we did years and years ago that I still think about fondly.

14-What's your all-time favourite ship?

It varies. Right now unfortunately it's the two leads from the Forbidden Hugs story, which is unfinished original fiction. Fandom wise, I still like me some Logic and Philosophy.

15-What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Anything started earlier than this year, unfortunately.

16-What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I have gotten decent at having an entertaining narrative voice without it being too distracting.

17-What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot? What plot? Plot is when people sit in rooms and have conversations about their feelings, right? What do you mean Events must occur? I'm calling my manager, this doesn't sound right at all.

18-Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Mostly feels needlessly pretentious, honestly. I don't know if I've ever really even considered it.

19-First fandom you wrote for?

HP, starting at age, oh, 14 or so.

20-Favorite fic you've ever written?

Again, Ties That Bind is still my beloved child, but I have a huge soft spot for both Power Rangers (2017) fics. Oh, and underdog fav status to Never go anywhere, never see anyone, the nichest of niche crossovers where Mary Bolkonskaya befriends doesn't-even-get-a-canonical-first-name Aunt Gillenormand.

Tagging @lemeute, @manyswarmsofbees, @amarguerite, @ohhgingersnaps

[audioaujom]

(2) The Rest of Patton's First Week (And the Second, and the Third)

LTWF Hub, < prev, next >

Hello! Just a quick note that I'll be aiming to update this every other Tuesday so I have a deadline to finish chapters by lmao There's some very very minor sort of violence and bullying in this chapter, but it's not explicit enough that I feel it warrants a warning. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2683

--

Patton’s second day at the ever-prestigious technological school of Pleasant Valley University was spent with nothing but thoughts of the cute ATA from his noon astronomy class from the previous day.

He didn’t mean to be so distracted, but Tuesday passed far too slow for his liking with two more syllabuses to learn from two gen ed classes he couldn’t be terribly bothered with and a distinctive lack of cute androids to hold his attention. By the time Wednesday came around, he was up and dressed over an hour before his class was supposed to start, and actually managed to not almost be late to his Astronomy class for the second time.

“Hi Logan!” Patton greeted as he passed by the ATA’s desk, his smile faltering nervously as Logan looked up at him.

“Oh, um, hello.” Logan’s awkward greeting trailed off as Patton turned and ran away from the desk, desperate to not say anything further and embarrass himself.

Needless to say, he still managed to fail at that as he felt Logan’s confused stare on him until the lecture started, using his hands to try and cool his cheeks off before attempting to focus on taking notes.

He didn’t fare much better in recitation the following morning.

Logan stopped Patton on his way out, after having caught him staring at least three separate times at where he sat—face bright red. “Your face seemed rather flushed today, Patton. Are you unwell?” 

“Whaaat?” Patton chuckled awkwardly, his face heating up again as he avoided eye contact and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Uhm… actually yes! Yes, I am, so that means I really gotta go!” He eventually stumbled out, seeing the opportunity to escape and taking it with a called, “See you Monday!” over his shoulder.

Said Monday rolled around and Patton was determined to not make as much of a fool of himself in his second week of classes, marching confidently into 102 Thaw at 11:56 sharp with a smile on his face and blush nowhere to be found. “Hey, Logan! It feels like it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” 

Logan blinked, looking up from papers he was grading in confusion. “It’s only been approximately 3 days. Is that a long time for you?” 

Maybe he could redeem himself on Wednesday.

“Oh, I suppose in the sense that we saw each other quite frequently earlier last week and then haven’t seen each other for the last few days, that expression would make sense.” Logan acknowledged before Patton could sulk off to his usual seat, beaming at the response.

“Yeah! That’s what I meant!” He nodded, not quite sure what Logan meant but understanding the intent. “You're pretty literal, aren't you?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all! I actually think it's quite charming, myself!” Patton quickly backtracked, before realizing what he said as his eyes blew wide and he awkwardly stumbled away towards his seat. “Oh shoot, I didn't mean to say that aloud. Bye then!”

Yeah. He'd do better on Wednesday.

Patton then spent his entire Tuesday and all of his Wednesday morning psyching himself up so that on the way out of astronomy he could stop by Logan’s desk and awkwardly ask, “Hey, um… I sure hope this isn’t a weird question but would you like to maybe… hang out? Or something? Sometime?” 

“What?” Logan froze, entirely caught off guard as he looked up at Patton. “Why would you want to do that?” “Well… I’d like to be friends with you!” Patton tried to keep up his excited demeanor to not let his disappointment show, smiling as the last few straggling students pushed past them to leave.

“Friends?” Logan blinked a few times, not noticing the way Patton’s eyes flickered to look anywhere but at his face. “I’m afraid I’m not programmed to be intimately familiar with that concept. Could you explain it to me?” “I can try!” Patton’s face broke out in a large slightly wobbly smile from his nerves, thinking before explaining, “It's someone you enjoy spending time with. Like… someone you like. Not in a romantic way or anything! Just… you know. Good company.”

“Hmm. I’ll check what my permissions are for outside of class hours.” Logan nodded thoughtfully, Patton jumping up in excitement. “I think… spending time with you to try and learn more about this concept could be constructive.”

“I’ll take that as a maybe!” 

Patton nearly cheered again as he noticed the way the edges of Logan’s mouth twitched up into a very faint smile, clutching the straps of his backpack a little tighter and running out of the room before the android could change his mind.

The next morning during recitation, Logan stopped Patton on the way in with an awkward, “Oh, um, Patton.” 

“Heya, Logan! What’s up?”

“In answer to your question from yesterday, I am apparently free to go places other than this building between my designated class periods as long as I am punctual to said designated class periods and I don’t go off campus.” Logan said evenly, Paton lighting up with a wide grin.

“Great!” He nodded, his mind immediately awash with fragmented ideas of what he hoped Logan would enjoy doing. “It would be so much fun to hang out with you! I'll try to think of something fun over the weekend.”

Needless to say, he didn’t pay much attention to his recitation.

Or the rest of the weekend.

…or to his Monday lecture.

His roommate hadn’t seemed to notice his distracted state—too busy either going to frat parties all weekend or also inexplicably going missing during the day—nor did any of his teachers, and he himself only really noticed it when—

“You seemed quite distracted today. Is everything alright?” Patton shook off the odd stupor he was in as he looked down at his completely empty notebook page and then up at the empty classroom, his face flushing bright red as Logan stared curiously down at him. “Oh, I… yeah, I guess my mind has been elsewhere lately.”

“I can help you make up the material from today, if you’d like. Perhaps that could fall under the ‘hanging out’ thing you mentioned, as long as you didn’t mean it in a literal sense.” Logan offered, Patton’s mouth falling open in surprise before he quickly shut it and tried to make himself look less shell-shocked. “For educational purposes, of course.”

“Yeah!” He agreed immediately, brushing some stray bangs out of his eyes. “That sounds awesome! How soon?”

“I have a break tomorrow afternoon, if you are also free.” Logan hummed, pleased, before hurriedly adding, “To help you go over the notes from lecture you missed.”

“I’ve only got two classes in the morning, so we could meet here after lunch? Around 2?”

“That works for me as well.”

Patton’s reflection was beaming as he checked over himself one last time—having rushed back to his dorm after both of his classes and a quick lunch, adjusting his glasses and trying to smooth the last few wrinkles out of the bottom of his light blue undershirt.

I look fine, right? It’s not like this is anything serious, we’re just meeting to go over notes!

He tugged on the sides of the thin jacket to get it better settled on his shoulders before grabbing his backpack and heading for the elevator, his stomach churning in anxious anticipation as he made his way towards Thaw Hall.

The walk was short, the air light and breezy as Patton jogged up the small hill and the outdoor steps to head into the building. The inside steps were taken two at a time, Patton stopping as he heard loud chatter and laughing from down the hall where 102 is.

Isn’t the classroom supposed to be empty at this time? Patton wondered idly, his path drifting faster towards the laughter and open classroom door. Poking his head in through the opening, Patton glanced inside to see two or three kids he didn't recognize kicking at Logan’s prone form on the floor. Patton gasped loudly, catching the attention of the three boys who instantly jumped in surprise and turned to run out of the room. Patton let them go, too focused on worrying about the android as he ran inside to get a better look.

Logan, to his credit, didn't look terribly bothered. His left arm was awkwardly bent and twitching every so often, his eye on that side also completely blank and black as it seemed to be powered off. He turned to look at Patton as he came in, picking his glasses up off the floor beside him and sliding them on before using his working arm to try and make himself look less disheveled.

“Oh shoot, Logan! Are you okay?” Patton fretted, dropping to his knees beside Logan and starting to look him over closely.

“Hmm? Is there a reason I wouldn’t be?”

“Your eye is all…!” Patton gestured widely, Logan’s one good eye blinking slowly in confusion. “And your arm! What happened?”

“That's beside the point. A reset should be enough to fix it. I can walk you through—”

“Err… I actually know someone who may be able to help!” Patton stumbled out, Logan tilting his head a little to the side as Patton got to his feet and shook his head and hands almost wildly. “He should be here right now, actually! Haha, that’s such a funny lil coincidence! I’ll be right back!”

Running out of the room before Logan could say anything, Patton checked his phone and found the nearest stairwell that would lead him down to the first floor and then into the connected engineering building.

I can’t remember if Virgil’s class starts or ends at 2:30… He better be here.

After reaching the first landing of the winding stairs and jogging down the hall towards several corner offices that told him he was on the right track, Patton approached the robotics classroom and glanced around the mostly empty hallways as he pushed on the door to open it. He then tentatively poked his head through the door as it swung in, his eyes scanning the mostly empty lab to land on the only two figures inside.

“Virgil, what the hell is this?”

“It’s just a chair.” Virgil—Oh, good, he’s here—grinned at the professor, who was standing by what appeared to be a sprawling work desk. Virgil himself—in his trademark patchwork hoodie and high tops—was sitting up on the counter in a spot clear of tools and wires, gesturing with his head at a chair with strangely clunky front legs beside him. “You should try it, professor.”

“I can see the pistons.” The professor commented almost nervously, before rolling his eyes as he went back to sit at his desk across the room. “You can get students with it later, but I’m not going near that. Not after your taser chair.”

Patton shook his head, unsurprised by the absurdity as he cleared his throat to grab their attention. “Um… hello?”

“Huh?” Virgil turned to look at the same time as the professor, before recognition washed away his confused expression. “Patton? Oh, hey!”

“Heya, Virge!” Patton stepped further into the lab as Virgil leaped off the desk, jogging over. 

“Forgot you had a couple classes here.” Virgil smiled sheepishly, the professor going back to some work in front of him as he led Patton to his desk. “We haven’t talked much since the semester started. You must’ve been too busy to say something, huh?”

“You could say that.” Patton chuckled, feeling much less confident as the worry in stomach grew heavier. “Say, how much do you know about those bots they have in the classrooms?”

“The automated teaching assistants?” Virgil asked, hopping up on his desk. Patton started to go for the chair, but Virgil stopped him. “It’ll launch you. Sit on literally anything else.” Patton nodded gratefully, dragging over a chair from another desk. “What about them? They’re new this year, so they’re a little basic and buggy. Something up?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Patton glanced away, Virgil noticing the worry that finally started to eat at his expression. “Would you know how to, say, fix one that took some damage?”

“Huh? Probably. Why, something happen?”

“You could say that.” Patton repeated, his voice going quiet as his gaze shifted to the colorfully tiled floor beneath his sneakers.

“Pat? What happened?” One of Virgil’s legs started to swing back and forth as his stomach bubbled nervously. “You’re scaring me; you’re never like this.”

“…can I just show you?”

“Alright. Let me grab some stuff, since I’m assuming this question of ‘can I fix it’ isn’t very hypothetical.”

Patton nodded silently as Virgil grabbed a backpack from beside the desk and tossed several of the tools on his desk into it.

“Hey, Dr. V, I’ll be right back. Patton needs my help with finding one of his classes. He’s new.”

“Sure thing, Virgil.” The professor called back, not looking up from his desk. “Be careful.”

“Will do.” Virgil saluted at him, before tugging the bag on and looking at Patton with anxious brown eyes. “Lead the way.”

The trek back into Thaw was tense, Virgil’s converse squeaking a little on the tile as the two silently headed up the stairs and then back into the classroom. Virgil let out a low whistle as they came in, Patton awkwardly dropping to the floor beside Logan—who was still seated.

“Woah. I’m sure you’ve looked better.” Virgil mused as he looked over Logan, slipping his backpack off and starting to hunt inside of it.

“I am quite alright. A reset should be enough, I don’t think anything is out of place.”

“Yeah, I’m not buying that.” Virgil rolled his eyes, halting his hunt after seeming satisfied with what the few things he pulled out, zipping his bag closed again. “I’ll do the reset if I don’t find anything else that needs my attention.”

“If you say so.”

Patton anxiously tapped a random rhythm on his legs while Virgil took care to make sure Logan wasn't damaged anywhere, eventually deeming him fit enough to open a main access panel on the back of Logan’s neck.

“Hey, while I'm here, you want me to give you some boosts?” Virgil asked randomly, setting the panel’s cover on the desk nearby. “I bet I could improve a bunch of shit for you.”

Logan frowned. “I am already optimized for efficiency. I don’t understand your desire to make so-called ‘improvements’.” 

“Alright, whatever you say. Your loss.” Virgil shrugged, hesitating as his hands hovered over Logan’s shoulder. “Good for the reset?”

“Yes.”

It was strange to watch him power down. Patton understood he was an android—the metal forearms made that much clear—but it was odd to see it so plainly after all the regular chatting they’d done for the last two weeks. Logan hadn’t actually moved as Virgil fiddled around in the back, the only real indication of him being off the fact that the light in his other eye had gone out, Patton looking away from the empty black screens to notice Virgil counting ten seconds on his fingers before powering Logan back on. His eyes went completely white before the digital pupils appeared in the middle, Logan shaking his head a little and going to test his left arm that had been locked up—only for it to work, good as new.

“Alright, you should be good now.” Virgil quickly put the panel cover back on Logan’s neck after seeing his arm working again, smiling as he packed up his bag and slung it on. “Let me know if either of you need anything else. If you need me and I'm not in Dr. V’s lab, you can just text me, Pat.”

“Okay, thanks Virge.” Patton shot Virgil a nervous yet grateful smile in return as his friend then ducked out of the classroom, leaving the other two alone in a long stretch of very awkward silence.

“So… do you still want me to walk you though the notes from yesterday’s lecture?”

[addictivepsychology]

Day 102

I feel weird today

First day back to work and being here doesn’t feel right anymore,

Not comfortable, not safe, not happy.

So I guess I need a change but change can’t happen for 7 months, so I guess I’ll suck it up and figure it out,

I’m almost done unpacking, cleaning my room and car, getting rid of old clothes and replacing with new ones I need,

Finishing all errands I need to do,

It never ends sometimes

I woke up in my own bed for the first time saturday morning , I haven’t done that in a week,

Peaceful rain , dark room, alone,

Hungover, but that doesn’t matter,

I’ve been drinking quite often again, but I guess that’s fine since I don’t get hangovers nearly as bad anymore,

Since the stomach bacteria got killed,

I couldn’t drink for months with that bacteria, freedom Is finally back,

I told my roommate I’ll probably be drunk for the next two months , which should be fun,

Toxic,

I have so many emotions today that I’m not sure what to do with,

But spiraling is what I do best when I come back from trips,

Getting used to forced emotions and forced smiles, forcing myself to go to bed and wake up in the morning,

Work is a forceful place,

Maybe I’ll finally get a remote job like you told me to,

And do my work from a tent in the woods,

So much to catch up about but how do I put it into words.

I texted hippie and let him know I’m back in town and to let me know when he’s free ,

He said the same night,

But I was on a phone call that I wasn’t going to end,

And the today is my first day back at work,

So no,

But no response ,

I’m not sure how I’m going to feel when I go to see him again,

Dating is weird

Jesus Christ

Tried something new,

Grew up in a shameful household so it might be getting to me,

But I’ve had this issue for years about sexual things,

I get this guilt sometimes,

Which can be from the shame of back then or feeling guilty for dating multiple people,

But that’s so normal, it’s the usual now,

What a fun phone call.

It eases my nerves but also makes me nervous that I don’t know what you look like,

I’m so tired but I have to call you back after that,

You said at 4am, when you have to be up at 8,

You’ve finally crashed from your long and no sleep weekend,

I’m excited to chat with you when you wake up,

No matter what happens,

You’ve helped me so much ,

Being confident and comfortable in myself,

Sometimes I think about why we meet people and what purposes we have,

I can’t thank you enough, for accepting me and being who you are,

Mister blue eyes, blonde hair,

And no eyes

Princess,

You’re so sweet, and so funny.

We are going to plan the next time we see each other,

it feels so far away but I ruin everything close,

So if I want any hope, you’ll be at an arms reach,

Leaving time in between,

Getting to know each other over the phone,

Like I do best apparently,

You ask me to call you, so I do,

Small talk, talk about our day, talk about our past dates,

And wishes we were here, but 7 hours is a good distance,

You say you don’t want to get off the phone,

We don’t have to,

You told your family again that we’ve been dating for 6 years and I’m your fiance,

You said everytime you tell them, their face is priceless,

So I go along with the joke,

I’ve always wanted to be proposed to,

What better way than knowing someone for a week,

What’s more exciting ,

We fall asleep talking about rings,

And wake up with soft good mornings,

But how much do you really know me,

How much do you know where I am or what I’m going through,

But you will I guess,

I just need to let you in more,

How is it that I still don’t know what I want,

Does anyone really know,

There’s so many options,

So many life path possibilities,

How do you know there’s one you’re supposed to go with,

Everything has gray area and many chances at happiness,

I want to do art, get it out of me,

Maybe I’ll paint a little before bed.

I need to get my art stuff back from you,

Why do I invest so much into everyone,

Sometimes I feel I should be more closed off but my emotions are big and I like to express them,

Probably when I shouldn’t,

But I have to forgive myself and hope my words bring people up instead of weigh them down,

I’m so glad I’ve found supportive girlfriends, I’ve been needing it,

I’m so thankful people are brought into my life,

[invincible-selfxmade-punk]

We finally got a C at work but we still do not have AC at home. I realized the landlord works a lot and is out of town a lot. But still surely there should be somebody he can call to come and look at it when he is not here. But he prefers to do everything himself which means I have to wait on him to finish his jobs out of town.

It's been between 95 and 101° all week. That makes her miserably hot conditions when you don't have air conditioning.

I've got to go into work tomorrow and probably stay most of the day because I'm so far behind on stuff that I need to do. They keep taking up our time with stupid meetings that last hours. One of our meetings was literally just us standing up and introducing ourselves.

Our convocation today was a one-hour speech from our superintendent asking us to pass another Bond Amendment and a two-hour speech from a guy that they based the rookie off of but the Acoustics were so bad and he Mumble so much nobody could understand a single word he said and we just had to sit there.

I found out today that's out of my 102 students, 60 are performing at half the grade level it should be why they are performing at first to second grade level when they should be at 4th. And each of those 60 kids are accommodated to the hilt because that is how they come in out of their grade. The lower grades give them every single accommodation. They go through and check every single box whether the kid needs it or not. It is our job starting in 4th to try to determine what the kids actually need, but at the same time, we are still obligated by law to provide everything that the other teachers checked off.

It's going to be a challenge that is for sure But I've also been blessed with very small classes this year compared to last Period I'm hoping that helps facilitate some The learning curve that's going to have to go on there.

[ramonaflow]

weekend wip game

Tagged by @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @mammameesh 💕

1. WIP List:

102 words

Summer days

Red panties

Beach sunset

Blue leather

Early relationship

Lift

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

102 words

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

If I ever finish it, 102 words

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

Summer Days I think has been the most fun

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

Red panties. I'm just so stuck on how explicit it is. I think it might be too much lol

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

All of them. I'm always worried about how people will react to them

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?

I don't think I will for any of them

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?

All of them 💀

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?

Only one of them has an oc and he's hardly in it.

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

Panties I think. I hope.

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

I don't really do angst. Apart from the occasional drabble.

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?

Oh I've no idea

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?

😬

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

If you mean which one have I spent the most time staring at and not writing? Probably panties again.

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?

I don't really have expectations

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

I don't think so but I only really remember scary dreams

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?

I don’t think so

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?

Summer Days I think. Just because it's silly

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?

No

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.

I have no idea. I'm sorry to the people who tagged me because I'm just rubbish at these games 🤣

Tags and questions for artists/gifmakers under the cut!

Tagging: @flowertrigger @a-noble-dragon @smblmn @beaiola @carolrain @trickiwooao3 @characterassassination-at-9am @smallumbrella369 @jamilas-pen @demora00 @queenmabcreates and anyone else who wants to 🩷

Questions for artists/gifmakers

1. WIP List:

2. Which WIP is your most complex?

3. Do any of your WIPs involve you using a technique/style that you haven't used before? What inspired you to try it?

4. Which WIP do you expect will take you the longest?

5. Which WIP are you finding the most enjoyable to create?

6. Do you have a favourite character to draw/stitch/paint/depict? Are they in many of your WIP projects?

7. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of creator's block?

9. Do any of your WIPs contain characters outside the main ship? How are you finding creating those?

10. What emotions are you hoping to convey through your WIPs?

11. Are there any features/details you are finding challenging in your WIPs?

12. Which WIP has the most complex shading/colouring?

13. Which WIP has the most complex background?

14. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for?

15. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

16. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other art doesn't?

17. Are any of your WIPs commissions?

18. Do you have a character that is more difficult to draw/stitch/paint/depict? Are they in many of your WIP projects?

19. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.