#might be able to rework the remaining bits into another fic

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

Trans Morty fic has now passed 9k words and I’ve only just reached the first coming out scene

[transhoverfish]

ive been watching a bunch of ghost hunting shows lately and now im just thinking about the mercury II and/or aurora being haunted

BRO i actually have a ghost au that i never finished writing?? 4546b is DEFINITELY haunted!! i vibe with ghosts!! i might rework the au a bit bc i made it before bz released and rewrite it again sometime,,,, i keep adding to my subnautica fic pile 😔✊

WELL ANYWAYS if u wanna read my very short very unfinished (as in pleaee excuse the grammar and spelling mistakes) haunted ryley fic its under the cut! i might have posted it before but i dont remember so in that case here it is again LABDKABRJ

"Are you here to play?"

He slowly opens his eyes, but sees nothing but darkness, as if they were still closed.

"Who are you?"

He recognizes the voice. He's heard it plenty of times before. He doesn't know who the voice belongs to. He can only hear it in his head, when his guard is let down enough to let it in. He wishes it would leave him alone.

"Where are you?"

It further questions him, and he cannot answer. He's only vaguely aware of where he is: his bed. In his base. His base he set up by himself, alone, in the middle of an endless ocean.

Whoever is calling would never find him. Nobody ever would. Nobody ever has. Nothing but crashed ships and bodies remained on this planet. He was utterly alone with the wildlife.

The voice repeats its questions. Asks more and more until his head is pounding with words that don't mean anything, with questions he does not have the answers to, with panic and bitterness and helplessness.

"You have to help." The voice commands.

He doesn't know how to. He's not sure he cares enough to figure it out. He's not sure he wants to do anything more than sleep. He felt tired all the time now.

"You have to help." It repeats, louder.

The words play over and over in his head, blending into one another he hears nothing but a loud noise, devoid of any discernible language.

Frustrated with another failed attempt to communicate anything back, he tries to shut the voice out entirely.

And when he blinks his eyes open again, he sees the white ceiling of his base. Hears the faint buzzing of his water filtration from the next few rooms over.

His head still aches terribly. Groaning, he gives up on any more sleep, fearing the voice will return. He leaves the habitat, unsure of what else to do.

He built it on one of the islands. It felt nice to leave it and step onto land instead of water. The Aurora almost doesn't look destroyed from this far away. He can almost pretend everything's going as planned, and the rest of the ship are just somewhere else on the planet.

But then he looks down a hill, and sees the broken remains of a habitat that is not his own, that is not built by anyone on the Aurora, and he stops being able to pretend.

He stares at the base now, and he knows it's unfair, but he can't help but be bitter and blame them. If the Degasi had never come here, neither would the Aurora have. He wouldn't be here, alone, with no way for anyone to help him. His friends wouldn't have been here.

You seem upset.

He freezes, and turns around. He doesn't see anything.

He's used to hearing a voice in his head, usually when he's dreaming. But only a single voice. The same one.

This voice was different. Oddly familiar, but definitely not usual.

It wasn't asking or pleading for anything.

"Hello?" He tries calling out. Silence follows.

Maybe he's actually hallucinating at this point. He feels really tired. Maybe he should just try to sleep again. He knows he wants to. Something stops him from heading back to his bed, something telling himself to stay where he is.

--

LIKE I SAID VERY SHORT. i swear ill start working on my fics again soon 😔 hope u enjoyed if u read this far!!

[deathonyourtongue]

Sanguine Nocturnus | 4

Summary: Even after 2000 years, the world can still surprise you. Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x OFC Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: It’s a vampire fic. Death. Blood. Gore. Sex. Horror. Not for the kiddies or the squeamish. I mean it. A/N : Sorry this took so long. Hope y’all enjoy it!!

The invitation came just as Lucrezia said it would, the handcrafted card a modern iteration of the same gaudy pomp and circumstance that Henry had come to expect over the years. For a moment, he considered not going, but given everything Lucy had made him privy to, he knew better than to play coy; it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility for the coven’s security task force to show up at his door like a far more sinister Secret Service.

Given the occasion, Henry knew better than to show up in his usual fare, and instead pulled a bespoke number out of the closet. The three-piece suit combined black satin and vermillion brocade, the pattern emblazoned on the waistcoat and the piping of the lapels. With a matching pocket square and two elegant brooches for his tie, he slipped on a pair of black Oxfords and made his way through the ancient streets that were so different, yet still held the same familiarity they had when he was human. 

With the moon hanging over the temple of Venus as though the structure itself was holding up the orb, Rome looked primed for a ceremonial changing of the guard, and as he came upon the coven’s high wrought-iron gates, Henry could almost feel the change on the wind. 

ID to enter the coven was simple enough; a smile would do the trick, so long as one’s canines were on full display. Like the rest of his ilk, Henry was able to retract his fangs when they weren’t needed, and when they were--whether it was to feed, or simply put the fear of the unknown into a human--his blue eyes would flash as though catching a stray bolt of lightning; it was a trick rarely seen, one only elder vampires seemed to have. Fledglings’ could only make their natural color more vibrant when necessary. While it was equally impressive to humans, it did little to frighten their own kind. 

It had long been rumored that the Villa Nocturnus had been designed by Michelangelo, but having been around far longer than many of his cohorts who presently resided in the coven, Henry knew this to be a simple fallacy. The truth was that the Medicis had used the coven’s villa as inspiration for their own, and that their architect had asked for intercession from the renowned artist. It had been another scandalous choice by the powerful family, only because anyone who’d lived in Rome at that time knew the Villa Nocturnus as a place of darkness and ill-repute, a legacy which still lived on, especially among Rome’s older population. 

Built primarily out of limestone and concrete, the villa had been redesigned and restored innumerous times throughout history, with facets of contemporary style added or removed as was fashionable. While the exterior underwent regular facelifts, it paled in comparison with how often the interior was reworked. Originally just a place to gather, feed, and sleep in relative privacy and safety, the elders had always sought to improve the villa both in functionality and aesthetic. As technology improved, so too did the comfort of the lowly Roman vampire, and now, with everyone carrying the world in their pocket, Henry could only imagine what changes were in store for him. 

Though mostly unchanged from the last time he’d visited, Henry immediately noticed the addition of automation to the property. Doors now opened and closed with sensors, and in the parlor, roving donors had been replaced by a touch screen dispenser filled with every blood type, the machine able to fix a glass to whatever specifications the drinker might desire. The biggest change however, had been to the sleeping quarters. No longer relegated to coffins, those who chose to reside within the coven’s walls full time were able to enjoy the luxury of a regular bed, thanks to a specialized tint on every window and security shutters for extra protection. From what Henry had been told, the place turned into something of a Fort Knox while the coven slept, a peace of mind his kind had not known before. 

Henry’s thoughts were pulled away from all the technological changes in the villa by the sound of chanting. Though vampires prided themselves on being far superior to humans, much like their living counterparts, they could never truly shake the traditions of old, and so the changing of the guard went on in the same fashion it had since the inauguration of the coven. The chants accompanied the procession of the departing Elder, the ominous notes setting the tone for the ceremony that would see one vampire set into the earth for at least a century, while another took his place, ruling over the coven with only the former elder’s powers and notes to guide him; it was no wonder they always demanded a tutor.

“Charissimi immortuos, nos congregentur hic hodie ut videre ad transitum de saeculum.”

The fact that the ceremony began similarly to a Catholic mass had never been lost on Henry; just one more remnant of the Vatican’s stranglehold on all. The thought crossed Henry’s mind, fleetingly,  that perhaps having a young ruling elder might not be so bad after all; he would shortly possess the power to make changes as he saw fit, with very little input from the rest of the coven. In fact, the only person he truly had to listen to was Henry himself--if he wanted to learn the proper ways of existing. 

“We now come to the Veneration. Cassius will open his vein for our new Elder, imparting all of his knowledge and wisdom, his strength and power, to our new ruler. Afterwards, you will all have a moment to bid our beloved Cassius a peaceful rest. The Veneration will now begin.”

Henry could see the starvation in Gregory’s eyes, knowing the fledgling had been fasting for two days prior to the ceremony; while it was par for the course, Henry couldn’t help but wonder if it was in coven’s best interests to starve so young a vampire prior to giving him some of the most powerful blood in the country. 

He watched, unblinking, as the titanium blade was swept elegantly down Cassius’ forearm, the cut made just deep enough to allow a free flow of the elixir Gregory so desperately needed, and to prevent the younger vampire from doing any harm to their departing elder. Henry could tell when the first drop of blood touched the fledgling’s tongue, Gregory’s eyes widening as the world was revealed to him. The natural inclination was to close one’s eyes as the swoon came, the warmth and richness of the liquid relaxing the body and the mind without fail. 

Almost too quickly however, Gregory’s eyes were open again, and Henry found himself staring at eyes that seemed electrically charged. He wasn’t sure what color the young vampire’s eyes were naturally, but the ice blue that flashed through them was unlike anything Henry had ever seen...In any fledgling...Ever. Blinking, his eyes flashed to the tall windows, looking for any sign of lightning that may have reflected off young Gregory’s pupils. Though he was met solely with a black sky and a smattering of stars, there was no way to be certain that it wasn’t just some trick of the light.

Henry shook off the uneasy feeling as he watched Gregory be pried off Cassius’ arm, the fledgling trembling with need and power. There was no doubt he would have to be fed often and that weaning him down to one meal every few days would have to wait. With age, the hunger, the crazed need for blood, dissipated and vampires as old as Henry and Cassius could comfortably go a few months without feeding, although neither him nor the former Elder were ever in much need to do so. Feeding was now a luxury to be enjoyed, like dining at a five-star restaurant every night simply because one could. 

Grabbing a glass of O_--one of the easiest bloodlines to drink--Henry made quick work of finding Lucrezia and Vinicius, his eyes never leaving Gregory. Unlike Cassius, who was ushered into the vaults to begin the process of going to ground, Gregory remained out in public, still trembling as he inhaled glass after glass of A+ to try and take the edge off.

“Well, that was far less tumultuous than last time,” Vinicius commented as he sipped his own glass, eyebrows wiggling in good humor as everyone began to form a line to dispatch Cassius with words of praise; a line Henry and a few others had no intention of joining. 

“Last time was a forced coup in case you forgot,” Henry deadpanned, watching as Gregory finally began to calm enough to set his glass down, the fledgling immediately fixing his long, strawberry blond hair, tying it back into a low knot before righting his clothes. 

“Yes, well, poor Quintas was never the same after he bit that flu-ridden girl. You know they’re still testing his blood?” Vinicius replied, shaking his head as he remembered the last great pandemic, one which had thankfully left many of them untouched, albeit desperate for clean blood. While disease rarely affected vampires, drinking from those who had been poisoned, had raging infections, or were close to death could all have profound and lasting effects on the immortal body, no matter how powerful. 

Henry’s eyes stayed on Gregory, watching as the fledgling made eye contact with Fares. Once a prisoner of war under the Parthian Empire, Fares had leapt at the chance for immortality as a means of freedom from bondage. No longer seen for his worth in labor, but rather his quiet, gentle nature (even when feeding), Fares had lived out his days in the coven’s safety, venturing out only when he had to, and only with those whom he trusted most. Having been only 22 when he was changed, time had not withered away his innocence, or the tender affection he felt for humanity and his fellow kind. It was glaringly obvious as he watched Fares smile shyly at Gregory, the fledgling immediately taken with the older vampire. It didn’t take long before the rest of the room seemed to disappear for the two of them, both men entranced by one another. 

“Who do you think will make the first move?” Henry smirked, jerking his chin in the direction of Gregory and Fares, the two barely keeping an inch between them as they flirted and made small talk. 

“Why don’t we go find out? I heard the baths were being reserved for our new Elder and a few chosen guests.” Lucrezia answered as she slipped her arms through Henry and Vinicius’, dragging both men behind her as she made a beeline for their new leader.

It didn’t take long for Lucrezia to work her charms on the new Elder, Gregory as taken with her as Henry had been the first time they’d met. The offer to share his reserved bath came quickly after, and before he knew it, Henry was following the small group down the hallways and into the depths of the villa, the floor sloping gently beneath his feet as they approached the massive pool of crystalline water.

 Steam rose from the liquid, swirling and mixing with the clouds of incense and oil that burned throughout the room. True to the old Roman style, the baths were lit with hanging lanterns, the flame burning Jasmine-scented oil as it provided just enough light to guide their paths towards the entrance. Sixteen white stone pillars flanked the large pool, the lamps hanging from the very tops of the columns; Henry wondered for a moment how many servants of the house it took to clean the smoke stains from the ceiling. Guided towards the end of the room by two servants, three additional staff bowed lowly, all at the ready to help the group undress. 

Henry was the first to wade in, the heat of the water doing wonders for the oft-ignored cold of his skin. Gregory and Fares followed, both still too entwined in each other’s attention to pay much mind to their guests. Their eyes only gazed outwards once Vinicius and Lucrezia had entered the water and Henry had cleared his throat quietly. 

“So, prof. How long’ve you been around?” Gregory asked, tipping his chin up towards his new teacher in curiosity. 

“Long enough to have served under Caesar,” Henry answered without hesitation, his gaze locking on Gregory’s to enforce the fact. 

“Long enough to have served alongside him,” Vinicius confirmed, adding his age to the list. 

“Long enough to be painted on papyrus,” Lucrezia winked, her own gaze moving to Fares with an encouraging grin. 

“Long enough to have witnessed the Parthian empire first hand,” Fares admitted, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. 

Gregory took a moment, looking around at each face as though he were seeing them for the first time. His mouth opened and closed, one finger lifted into the air as though the question he had in mind had simply vanished. 

“And what powers do you have?” He finally murmured, Henry able to tell by sight alone that whatever inquiry he’d meant to make had been put on the backburner for another night.

"You read too many pulp novels, but...I possess the usual gifts. Sight, smell, sound, telepathy, flight..." As though to prove his point, Henry floated high above the pool of water with effortless grace, his arms extended in a pose similar to that of Christ on the cross.

"Impressive." Gregory smiled, although as Henry read his thoughts he could tell the word held more than one meaning for the elder.

Sinking back into the water, it was Henry’s turn to smile as he picked up on Vinicius and Lucrezia’s thoughts, the pair beckoning him over with an offer that would be difficult to refuse under the best of circumstances. His eyes took on a more vibrant shade of blue as he waded over, keeping his pupil in his sights even as he did so. 

“What can you teach me that I haven’t just got from Cassius?” Gregory asked, feeling the shift in the room and stretching out his lithe form in reaction to it. 

“One can always learn new lessons,” Henry smirked, licking his lips before pressing them to Lucrezia’s neck, his fangs grazing over the tender skin just below where her jaw met her ear. Hands gliding over her body, Henry kept pace with Vinicius, watching out of the corner of his eye as Fares finally made his move, capturing Gregory’s lips in a deep, hungry kiss. 

The servants, used to the debauchery of the coven, maintained discretion, providing the only accoutrement necessary for carnal pleasure. Henry continued to busy his mouth on Lucrezia’s body, blindly dipping four fingers into the bowl at the edge of the pool, the ancient and familiar scent of Rose Otto filling his nostrils briefly before his hand sank under the water. 

It was Gregory who cried out first. Lucrezia’s sigh of ecstasy followed shortly after as Henry and Vinicius took her in unison, her nails cutting into Henry’s neck as she leaned back against the solid wall of his chest. Mouths melded together like honey left out in the sun, fingers traipsed and danced, and before long, soft moans turned into outright apostasy as all five undead creatures grew closer to release. Lucrezia, accustomed, but never ungrateful for such passions, forced herself down on the two swords she sheathed inside her, neck arching like a swan’s as she offered herself to her lovers. Gregory, making a discovery with every plunge of Fares’ body into his own, drew his elixir as much for comfort as for desire, having never experienced anything even remotely as intense as he felt with the man who held him close. The exchange of crimson never failed to be a catalyst for those who were on the edge, and as they drank from one of Rome’s famed beauties, Henry and Vinicius filled Lucrezia’s vessels in equal measure.

In the corners of the room, the servants readied the sherry glasses, warming them over an open flame before filling them with the coven’s finest and freshest.

[heartachebf]

9, 23, and 37 -Batz 🖤💜

fic related questions

9. which fic has been the hardest to write? um can i say all of them ^_^ on a more serious note, id probably have to say either my georgebur high school au fic or my enemies to lovers fwt fic! i love the concepts behind them so much, and i love the bits and pieces of them that ive managed to write, but its just been So hard over the months to actually Work on them enough to be able to post them :( im sure there are others thatve been tough to write, but those are the only ones that come to mind right now!

23. if you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why? ok im about to be very vulnerable and open with this one, but the first thing that comes to mind is a rhys/fiona borderlands fic that i wrote when i was 13 that was basically just a self indulgent rewrite of a piece of canon. (fun fact, that fic and all my other borderlands fics are on a super secret ao3 account that i scrapped years ago for. reasons im honestly not too sure of anymore) but i really like the idea behind that fic still, but its very. ugh. yknow? its very clearly written by a very young person! and if i ever get heavily back into borderlands, i honestly might try and rewrite All the fics ive got posted on that account bc They Deserve Better

id also probably pick my pta dads buddie au bc the au is so near and dear to my heart, but i started it when i was 16 and it needs a lotta major reworking before i can ever hope to Continue it

37. talk about your current wips. omgomg ok, so ive got Four active wips and Two fic ideas that are lengthier that i havent started yet, but i still am Actively Thinking about them (under the cut bc this post is getting long enough as is)

1. first is an angsty stan/kyle fic! to summarize, stan and kyle are pretty new to their relationship, and kyle invites stan over to dinner at his parents house so they can meet him as his Boyfriend instead of his Best Friend for the first time. but stan gets an eensy bit shitfaced and makes an ass of himself, so kyle tells him he needs to get his shit together. n stan is pissed bc hes like "i dont have a drinking problem!!" but then he talks to kenny and craig and tweek and theyre all like "um. dude you definitely have a problem lol." and im not sure how itll end yet, but i Am excited for it!

2. next is the one where stan realizes hes nonbinary and comes out ^_^ not much to say about that one yet, but i Am excited for it

3. next is the one where craig counts tweeks freckles !! not much to say abt this one other than the fact that its saying sappy craig rights And its gonna be nothing but extreme fluff

4. next is another style fic! this one has kyle n kenny being besties, as well as stans band, crimson dawn! basically, crimson dawn has a show, kenny asks kyle to come, kyle Goes to the show, and immediately falls in love with the cute lead singer whos absolutely Wrecking his throat with his screaming ^_^ theres also gonna b some side butters/kenny!!

5. next is one of the ones thats just an Idea so far! this one is centered around how, in the vaccination special, kyle+cartman+stan kinda treated kenny like their son so! au where they decided to adopt a kid (kenny) together (bc thats a thing that bros do)! and the fic is basically gonna center around kyle and cartman getting into fights all the time n eventually going to counselling together so they can Stop fighting, and stans jus kinda there, being the best dad he can while also supporting his friends in their journey of being able to parent together again ^_^ and then therell also be some stan/kyle later on, havent decided yet :)

6. finally, single dad stan au!! basically, stan n wendy had a kid together, but they later divorced (but they remain good friends!) n their kid is starting kindergarten! n for one reason or another, stan meets the cute school librarian (kyle ^_^) and gets a big crush on him! n thats all ive got for that one so far ^_^

[ryqoshay]

How did u think of the username ryqoshay?

The tl;dr version is that I was tired of Ricochet typically being taken in the games I was playing years ago and decided to rework it into something a bit more unique. And she grew into something more.

The full story will be under the cut as my trips down nostalgia lane tend to run long.

Ricochet started off as a character I created for a story I was writing years ago based on games I played as a child. The games were not electronic, rather based around physical toys and the characters and events were made up on the spot by my friend and I.

While our games generally focused on battles and conflict between two established groups, the story I decided to write focused more on the characters of the protagonist group and their interactions. Worth mentioning here that the focus group was a crew of mercenaries as it will come into play later. I realized that the current cast was comprised mainly of front line fighters and wanted to flesh out the team with some back line and support members; medical, recon, intel, etc.

Enter Ricochet. I liked the idea of taking a stereotypical stoic and battle-hardened sniper character and turning it on its head by making a hyperactive, adorable little girl. A character whose slightly warped idea of cute included heavy weaponry and thus treated her gun like a teddy bear, even going so far as bringing it to bed with her.

The name itself had a dual meaning as it referred both to how she was always “bouncing off the walls” and an intentionally ironic reference to a typically undesirable outcome for a sniper. Her given name at the time was Rebecca; Becky is fine, but don’t call her Becca or Reba.

I don’t recall if I addressed her parents in this iteration, but Rico entered the team under the care of Tackleberry. Yes, that Tackleberry; he was my friend’s favorite character from Police Academy, though I believe what I’ve turned him into maintains only the name and obsession with weapons. I already had him as the former legal guardian of another character, so I figured giving him someone new to oversee would be fine.

Then I stopped writing that story. And it remains on indefinite hiatus to this day.

City of Heroes was released and a friend convinced me to join. I was drawing a blank in character development when I stumbled across the Assault Rifle/Devices build and Rico jumped up out of my memories. The name Ricochet was taken so I tacked on -chan to the end as I was quite addicted to anime by this point in my life. This also gave me the excuse to weeb out and insert random Japanese words into her speech patterns as her linage was now half Japanese and half U.S. born Caucasian.

I designed a diminutive, blonde girl sporting high twintails and a dark purple flak jacket  outfit with black accents. Her short backstory described a her as having two heroes for parents and wanting to live up to her family legacy. And as said parents were still around, Tack dropped out of the picture.

I liked Rico so much I started translating her over to other games as well as using her name in my overall online presence, as small as it was then. Ricochet itself was pretty much always taken, so I often had to modify the name in some way, be it by adding -chan or shortening it to Rico or whatever.

Then came the game changer; City of Villains. It came as no surprise that Ricochet was taken, but I was getting tired of using -chan and my other methods, so I decided to create something new. This would be the first time I used Ryqoshay, an intentional misspelling of Ricochet for a character.

Since CoV allowed a short backstory like its predecessor, I knew I had to come up with an in-universe reason for the name change; I also still fancied myself a writer, even though I hadn’t really written much in a while. I figured a villain might do well with a more tragic backstory than a hero, so I offed her parents. The character limit didn’t allow for specifics on the where, when, why and how, but I made sure to mention that she took the first letter of their names - Yuri and Quentin - to rename herself Ryqoshay.

It was at this point, Ryqo also finally received a family name, Bouteillevoix, and with it, a change in linage to half Japanese and half French. I don’t recall the specifics of how I settled on Bouteillevoix iteself, but I do remember liking the dissonance of an outspoken character bearing a name meaning “bottle voice” as if it were to be contained in some way.

For her aestetic design, I swapped out the black for white in her outfit to use the Dark Is Not Evil and Light Is Not Good tropes; dark purple remained, however. This also meant her hair went from blonde to black. And her twintails went from high to low in an attempt to appear a bit more mature, though she maintained her high energy personality.

Also, while not mentioned in her in-game bio, Tack was able to reenter the picture as a Commando, the highest level Summon of Ryqo’s Mastermind power set.

While I wasn’t actively writing stories about her, I was certainly fleshing her out as a character with notes and whatnot. Quentin and Yuri also got some attention as I ended up designing alternate dimension versions of them for me to play. And as the alt-oholic I am in MMORPGs, I also came up with some alternate dimension versions of Ryqo herself; Ryqoshot, a lonewolf gunslinger using the Corrupter’s Assault Rifle power set and Ryqoaraignée, an Arachnos Crab Spider build who was more closely aligned with Arachnos than her other versions.

With all of the alts I was creating, I decided to use the game’s guild mechanics to pass stuff among them. Thus, Ryqo’s Roughnecks was born, named after Rico’s Roughnecks of Starship Troopers fame. Joining members included L4t3ncy_0, a mechanical Mastermind; Recipere, -  Rx for short - a thug Mastermind who kept her crew alive with healing powers; Yozakura, a ninja Stalker serving as Ryqo’s bodyguard and Vivian Sexon, a dual-wielding Brute and villainous translation of a dual-wielding Scrapper from my CoH days.

Not long after, a friend invited me to join a game of D&D. The team needed a door kicker so I brought in Vivian as a brutish barbarian with a split personality, Sanguine, taking control when she raged. My intended two paragraph introduction quickly turned into two pages, which eventually turned into twenty and started translating over other Roughnecks; Ryqo included.

Ryqo dropped her sniper rifles in favor of a more theme appropriate bow and arrow. L4t3ncy_0′s call sign was changed to Nullsiver Luna and she became an artificer who struggled against the world’s tech limits. Recipere, not surprisingly, took on the role of a cleric. Yozakura kept her ninja trappings, but started playing by the Bodyguard Crush trope as I was deep into yuri shipping at that point thanks to the likes of Lucky Star and others.

Even after the game stalled out, I continued to work with the DM to build their world in which all of their games took place. The Roughnecks gained a permanent place in the timeline, extending both before and after Ryqo’s time as their leader, as well as a permanent base of operations, which eventually grows into a full fledged township later at the behest of Ryqo (spoilers should I ever get around to posting these stories.)

My online presence was growing and with it, Ryqo. She became my main when I returned to WoW, a Blood Elf Hunter running around with a giant Devilsaur as a pet; yes, she would think it was cute. (She was changed to Human when I followed by guild to another server that needed more Alliance players.) My Demon Hunter main in Diablo 3 was named Ryqoshay, as a surprise to absolutely none of my friends at the time.

Aion was a strange exception insofar as I wasn’t fond of the Ranger class for my primarily solo playstyle. I still made said ranger and of course named her Ryqoshay, but my main in that game was a Chanter known as Ameliorator, a more fanciful version of MedKit, the character for whom Tack was a legal guardian in the story mentioned above. However, I still played out the Ryqo persona on the forums because I enjoyed it and I’d long forgotten Med/Ame’s personality from that old story.

When Love Live started to take over my life and I found Sukutomo, I went with Ryqoshay as my screen name for reasons I don’t fully recall. I started this tumblr account as a way to post some “Idolsona” stuff where I translated Ryqo into a LL style idol, along with Yoza, Luna and a newer Roughneck, Flash Pyre. And when I started writing my fics, it was easy to use the account I already had here and then keep the name when I went over to AO3.

Hindsight being 20/20, I probably should have chosen Nico as my primary icon, as her appearance is closer to Ryqo’s than Maki’s, even if she wears her twintails high like Rico instead of Ryqo’s low tails. Neither Nico nor Maki have grey eyes as I’ve given Ryqo, so that wouldn’t fit, but none of the LL characters do thus far. That said, Maki prefers purple more than Nico and Ryqo isn’t much a fan of pink, so maybe that played into things? Perhaps someday I will commission one of my favorite artists to draw Ryqo as I envision her and start using her as my avatar, someday… maybe.

Also worth mentioning that NicoMaki has had a heavy influence on how I envision Ryqo and Yoza, and vice versa. Heck I’ve directly translated some NicoMaki doujin into scenes for my D&D story and sprinkled some RyqoYoza stuff into HtHaN. With HtHaM being a more D&D’ish setting, I may very well steal some stuff from my D&D story for it. Perhaps Luna or Vivian might make an appearance? I’ve already referenced Ryqo when Maki remembers hearing stories of an 11 year old girl taking over a mercenary guild. As always, I shall follow where my µ’s muse leads.

In conclusion, while Maki - with Nico very close behind - may hold a position as my favorite fictional character not created by me, Ryqo easily tops that position as my favorite overall; yes, the fact that I created her absolutely factors into this bias. There are reasons I don’t bring her up often - beyond using her as a screen name, posting through her persona on a few forums and the Idolsona thing - not the least of which include a fear of her being labeled a self-insert or Mary Sue or whatever, as I’ve seen some decidedly distasteful reactions to such characters online. But there is also the fact that the bulk of her development has been within a world not designed by me, but by one of my DMs, and I would want to ensure they would be fine with me posting stuff about said world; I’m sure they would be fine, but I haven’t gotten around to asking. Perhaps someday, I might post more about Ryqo. Perhaps writing more of HtHaM will inspire me to take my D&D story off hiatus, dust it off and have a talk with my DM about posting it. In the meantime, I will continue to use her namesake for my online and in-game presence because she is a character I hold very dear.

If you’ve read this far, thank you for joining me in my journey through nostalgia. And I hope this sufficiently addresses Anon’s question.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Devil’s Due

Summary: Years ago, Lacey made a deal. Now, at the height of her fame, he comes to collect. Lacey, though, is canny, and she’s ready for whatever he might ask of her in return for his magic.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling moodboard prompt, available here.

Rated: T

=====

Devil’s Due

Lacey’s expecting him when he arrives at the same time as her breakfast. She’s been counting the days, because it would never do to be caught unawares when dealing with the likes of him. Despite everything that’s happened in her favour over the last five years, Lacey is genre-savvy enough not to be complacent.

So, he doesn’t catch her unawares when he slips into her bedroom behind the maid bringing coffee and croissants. She gives him a nod of acknowledgement. Calm and collected; although there’s that same frisson of fear that she felt the first time they met, it’s more a knee-jerk reaction to what he is than to what he may ask of her.

The maid leaves, not registering the appearance of another person in the room. She wouldn’t, of course. He made it clear last time that only Lacey would be able to see him.

“You’re not surprised.” He sounds surprised himself. Surprised, and something else. Lacey would say something along the lines of elation. He’s actually happy that she’s not surprised.

“Naturally. It’s five years to the day. I knew that you’d come to collect.”

He smiles, and it’s such a dangerous smile, but such a thrilling one too. He looks different to the first time they met. He’s wearing a sharp suit, exquisitely fitted around his slim frame. The crutch from last time has been replaced by an elegant cane, and the missing tooth now glitters gold. As her fortunes have increased, so have his, it seems. Or maybe this is just his way, altering his appearance to suit the circumstances. Back when she’d been undiscovered, singing in clubs for a pittance and sleeping in a different bed every night, no fixed abode, he had mirrored her hunger. Now she is sated and successful and he mirrors her comfort.

Lacey remembers their first meeting, in the alley outside the club. It is three o’clock in the morning, and Lacey is lighting her first cigarette of the night. The tips have been poor lately and she’ll have to make this pack last. He comes out of nowhere, offering her a match when her lighter doesn’t work. She’s certain she checked the alley for lurkers when she first came out. It’s as if he’s stepped out of the darkness itself. She just stares at him, both of them watching the match flame burn down to his fingers. He doesn’t throw it down until it goes out completely, and when he lights the next, his skin, although grubby, is unburned. That’s when Lacey knows what he is.

“I can make you famous,”, he whispers, breath smelling faintly of sulphur, or does she imagine that? From any other hobo on the streets it would be a pathetic line, but when the third match has burned down and Lacey has finally lit her cigarette and taken a long, calming drag, she knows that he could and would make good on his words.

“Can you, now?” She tries to play it cool and uninterested, but that hunger for success has already burst into life again and is champing at the bit to be let out to play and to devour whatever he might offer. “And what would be the price?”

She knows the story. A classic tale reworked so many times over that it’s become part of the collective psyche. At the end of your rope, someone offers your hopes and dreams on a plate. But no-one gets something for nothing; soon you’ll get your backside bitten if you don’t follow the rules.

“Just say the word, dearie, and fame and fortune could be yours.”

“And what would be the price?” Lacey repeats. “My soul?”

He laughs, a high-pitched, twittering giggle. “Oh no. That’s just crass. Souls fell out of fashion years ago. We live in a materialistic world, after all. Everyone needs things.”

“In that case, first-born child is traditional, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head. “Far too risky an investment. What if you never reproduce? Immaculate conception is the other side’s domain.”

“So, what then? There’s no such thing as a free lunch, or a free foot in the door. Especially not in Hollywood.”

“Let’s just say that you’ll owe me a favour.”

Lacey’s savvy. She knows that she’s better off walking away. But savvy won’t keep her alive if she can’t buy bread and the hunger for food, fame and fortune is gnawing at her insides.

“Then let’s make a deal.”

The terms are agreed, and he says he’ll return in five years. Lacey begins her countdown. She may have given in to temptation, but she can still be sharp.

And here he is, five years later, calmly standing in her bedroom doorway. She beckons him closer and offers a croissant, as if she has any power in this exchange. Still, he accepts, perching on the edge of her bed and taking a bite of flaky pastry.

“Time’s been kind to you,” she says.

“Even kinder to you. Breakfast in bed. It’s a far cry from singing for your supper, isn’t it?”

“I can’t complain. So, your favour.”

He tuts. “All business and no small talk. Such a shame. I wanted to hear all about your next role. And all the gossip from the Oscars, of course. You looked truly ravishing, my dear.”

“Thank you.” She’s determined not to be lulled into a false sense of security. He would not be here unless he wanted something. She must keep that in the forefront of her mind. She’s known it for five years, so she can’t afford to let her guard down now at this final moment.

“You’re right though.” He’s changed tack again, making Lacey’s head spin with all his different directions, determined to follow him to the bitter end and never lose her way. “You’ve never once complained about the pressures of fame, about its burdens. That’s what I like about you, Lacey. You’ve never taken my gifts for granted.”

“God giveth, and God taketh away.” She smirks at his raised eyebrow. “Or the other side, of course.”

“That’s more like it, dearie.” He leans in a little closer now that he’s finished eating. “There’s something else I’ve noticed.”

“Oh yes? And what might that be?” Although Lacey is enjoying their banter, a small part of her wants to cut to the chase. She’s been anticipating this day for the last five years and the suspense is killing her.

“You’ve never been linked with another name. A beautiful young talent like you, I would have thought that every red top journalist under the sun would have given their right arm for the hot gossip on Lacey French’s latest beau. Or belle, if you’re that way inclined.”

It’s true. She hasn’t been in any kind of relationship since the day she made the deal, not that the ones she’d been in before had anything close to meaning in them. She tells herself again that this is the result of being prepared. The fewer people she has attached to her, the less chance there is of someone she loves being caught in the crossfire when he comes to collect.

Deep down, though, she knows that the real reason is far darker, far less noble than the one she would choose to give him. She knows that he knows it too, and that there would be little point to her sanctimonious lie.

For all that he has changed in appearance since the last time they met, one thing remains the same. His eyes are unchanged. They’re still the dark and deceptively dangerous eyes he had before. One might call them soulless in their depths: indeed, Lacey wrote him off as soulless five years ago.

Today though, the light is better, mid-morning compared to the small hours of the night. Lacey can see that those dark, dark eyes are far from soulless. They’re so deep that they’re eternal, full of secrets as old as time itself, and older than that again. There’s history in his eyes, the full spectrum of human emotion on a worldwide scale that Lacey could never hope to emulate. He’s not unfeeling. He is feeling, in the most literal sense of the word, all those base, animalistic feelings deemed sinful brought into one embodiment. As that realisation sinks in, Lacey knows and fully accepts the reason for her five years’ detachment from others of her human race. The only man, if he can be called such, who has ever sparked her interest, is sitting in front of her now.

“My price,” he says presently, bringing her back to reality.

“Of course.”

“A kiss.”

“What?” At first she thinks she hasn’t heard him correctly. After all, he was the one who stressed the importance of things at their last meeting.

“Do you disagree to my terms?” There’s ice in his smooth voice. Just a little, but it still chills her through, nonetheless.

“Not at all.” She hastens to correct the misunderstanding. “It just seems something so small and insignificant in comparison to the gift given.”

“Ah, dearie, it’s for me to decide what is and isn’t worth the price. A kiss from you would be very precious indeed.”

Lacey wonders, because there’s got to be more to it than that. If that was his price, why not take it there and then in the alley? She’s certainly done worse in alleys in her time. Just what will she be giving away if she gives him this simple thing? A kiss in exchange for all that he has given her – fame, fortune, wealth, comfort, security…

Lacey brings her hand to his face, her fingers cupping his cheek gently. He’s warm to the touch, unnaturally so. If he were a normal man, she’d say he had a fever, but she knows better. His eyes never falter from her face, but he remains silent and his hands stay clasped in his lap, neither encouraging nor dissuading, leaving her to settle the score on her own terms.

His lips are scalding as Lacey presses her mouth against his. It’s not a chaste, Hollywood kiss. If Lacey’s going for this, then she’s going for it wholeheartedly. She won’t be accused of not making an effort.

He’s surprisingly soft and pliant and his lips part eagerly under the pressure from her tongue. His hand comes up to cradle the back of her head, but his touch is light; she feels no urge to fight it.

She expected him to taste sulphurous, like the vague scent that she can sometimes pick up in his vicinity, or maybe it’s just her imagination. He doesn’t. He tastes of apples, pomegranates, the forbidden fruits that lead to darker depths.

Lacey knows then, as she closes her eyes and sinks down into his embrace. Oh, he was clever when he said that he did not want her soul. Even if it was not his prize, he has ensnared her, nonetheless. She thinks of her next project, Pride and Prejudice, filming to start in two weeks.

You have bewitched me; body and soul.

Her soul is his now, whether he wants it or not. With this single kiss, the culmination of five years of intrigue and wondering, he’s ruined her for any other man who might cross her path. He was the only one she wanted before, and now she knows that she will never want another.

There’s lust and passion and excitement and desire in his eyes when they break away, a perfect mirror for her own thoughts and emotions. He smiles his dangerous smile, sated, his price collected, and he gets up to leave. Lacey knows that he would always leave her wanting more, but she won’t give him the satisfaction of letting him know it. He already knows it. He already knows everything.

“Will I be seeing you again?” she asks, affecting an unconcerned tone.

His grin is wicked as he pauses by the door.

“As you wish, Miss French.”

[delkios]

Trade Your Ghosts for Heroes (ToRays/ToV)

What started as a silly scene with Cress's pun ended up turning into a nearly 2k post-Mirrage Prison fic. Caveats: I've only played, like, three Tales games and two of those were 15+ years ago so characterizations are primarily based of ToRays depictions. Apologies if they're inaccurate. Also my knowledge of Mirrage Prison is an incomplete hodgepodge of translations and summaries. Apologies if that, too, is inaccurate. Title a re-worded line from Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" because ~what are titles~?

(dreamwidth) (pillowfort) (AO3) Title: Trade Your Ghosts for Heroes Fandom: Tales of the Rays, Tales of Vesperia Rating: PG Word Count: 1996 Characters: Flynn, Yuri, various minor appearances Summary: Following the end of Mirrage Prison, Flynn is finally properly introduced to the other Nexuses. Though everyone kept a clear path to the makeshift medbay, there were plenty of onlookers as Yuri, leading the return group, carried Ix. Which was as good a time as any for Yuri to name each Nexus they passed to Flynn. Proper introductions could be made later but the roster was pretty big, so he may as well get a head start. Raine and Ruca met them just outside the medbay, the young man and Mileena taking Ix from Yuri and bringing him inside with Kocis following close behind. Raine gave the remaining two men a slight smile. "Why don't we go to the conference room," she said with a mild warmth that barely disguised a cool caution- which Yuri would bet she wasn't really trying to disguise. If Flynn wasn't already used to having his every move scrutinized and questioned, Yuri might have been offended on his behalf. "I'm sure everyone would like to officially meet you." The conference room wasn't quite filled with people, many still making their way back to the fortress, but there were still a good number in there. "Yo," Yuri called out to the group, clapping a hand on Flynn's shoulder and pushing him forward slightly. "This is Flynn."

Flynn gave Yuri a sideways, disapproving look when it was clear that was the extent of his introduction. His attention was drawn, however, by a sharp bark. Repede charged at the duo, jumping up so his front paws hit Flynn's shoulders hard enough to rock him back a step and covering the man's chin and cheeks with long licks. "Repede!" He laughed, giving the dog a good scrubbing at the thick fur of his neck. "I'm glad to see you, too!" "I've never seen Repede so happy before," Sophie said, looking envious. With a playful nip at Flynn's fingers, Repede dropped down, moving to sit between Flynn and Yuri's feet as Estelle took his place, embracing Flynn with a great big hug. "Flynn! We were so worried about you!" "I'm sorry for making you worry, Lady Estellise," he gave her a hug and, when she moved aside, held a hand up for Karol to slap with a wide grin. While Judith, Rita and Raven didn't greet him with anything more than warm words and welcoming smiles, they gathered around the latest member of their group like they were worried someone might try to take him away again. Standing toward the back, Velvet gave him a cool once over before declaring more than asking, "So you're the guy Yuri lost his head over?" Flynn laughed, both self-conscious and self-depreciating. "I didn't really apologize for putting you in that position, did I?" He gave his best friend a guilty smile. "Sorry about that." Yuri just scoffed. "What I said about that gloomy expression is still in effect." This laugh was more genuine, "Of course." Expression cautious and arms crossed, Cress asked, "We've heard Baldr's side but I think it's worth us knowing: what exactly possessed you to do such a thing?" Chester's arm shot out like a reflex to punch his best friend in the arm. Unfortunately he only hit pauldron and he half curled over his aching knuckles with a quiet 'ow'. "Well, it wasn't exactly-" Flynn paused for a moment then grinned, "Oh! Very clever!" Estelle giggled, "Cress is very good with word play." Cress gave Chester a smug look and Chester just groaned. "Why does everyone keep encouraging him?" "Yeah, sorry, should've mentioned," Yuri said with dry resignation, "Flynn's got terrible taste in everything." "Including friends, unfortunately," Flynn said, equally dry. "Maybe I won't care so much next time you get bodyjacked." "Or maybe you could react in a less haphazard way." Yuri made a show of scowling. "I get lectured even when it's not my plan." Flynn just gazed back at him coolly. "I'm talking about your particular actions. As always." "Next time I'll submit my snap decisions for you to review before saving your ass." Heads bobbed around the bridge, various Nexuses muttering to themselves or each other, "Definitely childhood friends." "As much as I hate to break up the heartwarming bickering," Raine said in a way that clearly stated this was not the case, "Cress's question is still a valid one." "Yes, ma'am, I apologize," Flynn said and Raine muttered an amused, "Such manners!" into her sleeve. He cleared his throat and said to the room at large, automatically falling into professional knight mode, "Before the procedure that placed Baldr in my body, I was only aware of very few things: I was not in the world I knew and the Asgard Empire was determined to use me in some way. When Baldr and I first... well, spoke, I suppose you could say, he told me that he wasn't able to possess my body without my consent. I could sense he was troubled by the entire process and didn't seem very keen to do it but, he knew as I did, that Mercuria and Naza would find another body if he was unable to use mine. We came to an agreement: I would allow Baldr to use my body but I would retain my consciousness. This allowed open dialogue between us and he even allowed me control of my body on occasion. Despite his misgivings over the Empire's actions, Baldr was loyal and it took some time before I was able to convince him that they needed to be stopped." Flynn cast a sideways look at Yuri. "I suppose I'm lucky for the experience of dealing with someone far more stubborn than he." Yuri just snorted, "You're worse than I am." "Asides from Naza, I was the first to be possessed. Apparently there is something about my ...anima, I believe? That's unique but I'm uncertain as to the details of what that means or even why it is. As far as I'm aware, I've never been any different than Yuri." At his side, Yuri nodded. Had it been Estelle or Raven it would have been obvious, even with Judith or Rita guesses could have easily been made. But the two of them and Karol were just regular guys. Rita stepped in front of him, arms crossed, looking him over as if she could find the answer if she glared at him hard enough. "You should come down to the lab so we can run some tests. I don't know why you would be unique, but that might mean some of the other 'normal' Nexuses we've gathered might also have unique properties. If that's the case, it's definitely something we should know about." "If the bodysnatching process was so easy for you and Baldr," Chester asked, looking like he wasn't sure if he should be upset or not, "why did the Empire have so much trouble with others?" "I think," Flynn said slowly, thinking through his answer, "that has to do with Baldr needing my consent. For that, I had to be... me, still. Awake, aware- but for the others, it's like their minds and personalities were completely rewritten. The Empire had to rework the procedure and," his expression grew dark with guilt, "a number of people were left comatose before they succeeded. I don't know how many or where they were put after, Baldr kept me away from... the failures when he realized how upset I was." Estelle put her hands around one of his, giving it a squeeze. "It's alright, Flynn. We figured out how to bring them back." He let out a shaky breath and grin. "Thank you, Lady Estellise. It's relieving to know. There was only so much I was able to do, even when Baldr decided to help me. I hated being unable to do anything for them." "Yeah, yeah, we know what a bleeding heart you are," Yuri drawled. "Unfortunately, now Psycho Princess is intent on taking Flynn's head in addition to Mileena's, so you should probably lay low for a bit." Raven hummed unhappily. "Kiddo didn't take betrayal too well, huh?" "Guess she's less forgiving than some people," Rita said flatly. Raven's only response was a rueful twist of his lips. A couple others in the room shifted uncomfortably. "If I may take a moment to recap here," Jade said with a feigned thoughtfulness, "in answer to Cress's question, Flynn allowed Baldr to possess his body because he knew the Empire was adamant about using him, if it wasn't his body then Baldr would be placed in someone else, and, because Baldr didn't seem entirely happy about the Living Doll Project as a whole, you thought you might be able to convince him to defect. Is that more or less correct?" "Yes," Flynn said. There was a brief silence, then Raine asked incredulously, "That was your entire thought process?" "Well," Lloyd said in cautious defense, "it worked?" "It is quite the Flynn thing to do," Judith said with amusement. Raven nodded. "Wouldn't expect less from the man that helped get the Union and Empire working together." "I'm sorry everyone," Flynn said softly. "I thought I'd be more useful than I ended up being. I should've done more to help." "Oh," Jade said with flat distaste, "he's one of those genuinely humble types." He them promptly walked out. Yuri snickered at the exit- he certainly hoped watching Jade and Flynn interact would be as amusing as he imagined. But... ignoring the people quick to reassure Flynn he'd been helpful- and keeping the Empire from realizing Baldr had left was very much so -Yuri prodded his friend in the chest hard with the sheathed end of his sword. "I warned you. I'm wiping that look off your face right now." "Wait," Reala looked between Yuri and Flynn. "You're going to fight him? But you just got your friend back." "It's that bastard Baldr's fault," Yuri said decisively, arms crossed over his chest. "I don't care about his reasons or that Flynn agreed to it, I'm pissed that he took over someone's body. But since he went and disintegrated before I could beat his ass, I'll just beat Flynn's for being stupid enough to agree in the first place." Confused and hesitant glances shifted around the room, made all the more so by the fact neither Flynn nor any of their friends seemed at all bothered by this declaration. Reala inched a little closer to Flynn. "Are you alright with this?" He just looked as if that was a strange thing for someone to ask him. "Certainly." "They fight a lot," Karol said like it was perfectly normal. "I haven't let loose in a while," Flynn added with a deceptively angelic smile, "it'll be a nice challenge." "You making preemptive excuses for when you lose?" Yuri asked with a sharp grin. Though Flynn's smile hadn't changed, there was something decidedly less angelic about it. "You know what they say: once is an accident." "You saying my win was a fluke?" "I suppose we'll see." "Wait," Kyle popped in between them with wide eyes, "does that mean Yuri's only beaten you once?" "Oh, well," Flynn chuckled and turned away from Kyle's awed expression, ever the humble knight, "I... suppose I may have won more often than not when we were kids." "All of 'em," Yuri said bluntly. "He won all except for the last." "It really isn't as impressive as it- er?" Suddenly Cress and Luke were on either side of Flynn, grabbing an arm each. "Sorry, Yuri. You'll have to postpone your match a bit," Cress said brightly. "Yeah," Luke added, "I have got to see what this guy can do!" Then, using Flynn as a pivot point, the two turned around and started pulling Flynn out of the room. "O-oh, um... okay?" Flynn called out even as he was dragged away. "It was nice meeting everyone!" Yuri just sighed while Estelle and Karol giggled. "Always the charmer," he drawled with- and he'd deny it if confronted -a spark of fondness in his eyes.

[asreoninfusion]

Feeler Post for Fic Books!

PLEASE ONLY LIKE THIS POST IF YOU ARE ACTUALLY INTERESTED!!

I think I may have very breifly mentioned this before, but. In February, I am going to Kupocon, and am sharing an artist alley table with lilly-white. Lilly would obviously be doing her proper arty thing, but the idea of me being there was that we would collaborate to create printed compilation books of my fanfics illustrated with her drawings. Basically like the doujinshi artists who produce novel doujinshi.

The longer I have to think about it, the more I worry that the endeavour is going to be a whole lot of work for no return. Printing books is expensive, if they don’t sell I’m going to end up a good £100 or so at least out of pocket. And if the books won’t sell, Lilly could use that time to be working on her projects that will sell instead of the illustrations for my dumb-ass shit. 

I was always planning to offer up any left over for people on Tumblr to buy, but I don’t even know if anyone here would want such a thing! Hence, feeler post.

Details are below the cut (including approximate prices, page counts, and what stories would be included). IF YOU THINK YOU WOULD BE INTERESTED IN BUYING ONE, PLEASE LIKE THIS POST.  If it’s not your thing, that’s cool, feel free to ignore this post and just keep on scrolling.

(Don’t worry, I’m not holding anyone accountable for this (I’m automatically going to assume the actual of number of takers would be half of the response I get, because shit happens and not everyone will have the funds at the right time or whatever), it’s really just to see if it’s viable or not. If I only get two or three responses, even on Tumblr, then it might be time to put the project away.)

There are three books planned. A like is good, but if you are interested and are able to reply which one(s) specifically you’d like to get that would be even more helpful. If there’s a lot of interest in one but not the others, I might drop the unpopular ones off the production list and focus efforts on the remaining book.

Let’s Play; 34,000 words // 112 pages // £4.95

The entire of Let’s Play in its own little novella book, complete with Lilly’s bonus chapter and a completely reworked chapter two because I always said I was going to redo that one and I finally have. \o/ Probably around 5 or so full page (black and white, because who can afford colour inserts) illustrations by Lilly, and full colour cover art.

Cloud Sharing compilation; 35,000 words // 120 pages // £4.95

Consisting of Cloud Sharing (ASGZC), Involuntary (ZC), Three’s Company (AZC), and Prize (SZC). At least one full illustration per story, maybe more since some of them are pretty long + cover art

Sefikura compilation; 43,00 words // 140 pages // £5.45

Consisting of Turn The World (Against Us), Demonology, Dark Depths, Whiskey & Kisses, and Ice Down His Spine. One full illustration per story, and hopefully adorable chibi half-page pictures from kizunatsudoishi for each story as well + cover art. (Maybe chibis in the Cloud Sharing book too? We’ll see.)

I don’t know postage for sure, but from having sent out a lot of doujinshi lately, I would put the estimate in at around another £5 for overseas. Probably a little bit less for just one book, and a touch more for all three. I’d knock about £1 off those estimates for within the EU, and within the UK is probably only gonna be a couple of quid, under £2 for one book for sure.

There aren’t really any plans for a three book deal or anything at the moment, because I’m really only just covering the production costs with what the prices are set at currently. orz This would just be a one-off thing, and believe me I can already tell you I’m not going to be making any money out of it. I’d be pleasantly surprised if I don’t end up out of pocket by the end. 

But it’d be nice to have a printed book of my work so I can pretend it has some kind of worth.

[librarified2004]

Here we go again...

This looked like fun. Hijacked from the amazing @the-random-fandom-one, so the actual title of this should be “@dammittmarie, you made me do another survey!”  Reblog with your answers! I want to get more communication going in the writing community here. Answer one, answer some! Answer whatever you want to! 1. What was the first character you ever created? I’ve been writing stories since I could pick up a writing utensil. I think the first character I ever really put a ton of thought into, though, was this character I played in an MMORPG during undergrad. Her name was Lindarian, and her past was tragic: the half-elven child of an illegal union between a mortal and an elf princess, she was basically raised in seclusion only to watch her three older half-brothers and her parents be brutally murdered on her eighteenth birthday. Man, even before I knew what fanfiction was, I knew how to whump a character. 

2. Is there a specific thing that made you want to start writing more? The MMORPG I played as an undergrad and grad student went down for good in about 2005, and after that, I stopped writing stories because there was no reason, really, to further develop that character. I got a job and started doing some professional writing--blogs and reviews and that kind of thing. Then I reconnected with an old friend who had written an entire book, and he started pushing me to do fiction again. I played around with some ideas, even published a short story, before I discovered fanfiction through a professional development class that I had to take. I can’t go back to school for my MFA in creative writing at this point, but I think writing fanfic is saving my sanity as well as giving me a sort of ad hoc, DIY MFA where I work at my own pace and set my own curriculum. Plus, some days it really saves my sanity. In the wise words of Lin-Manuel Miranda, I can pick up a pen and write my own deliverance.

3. Favorite character you’ve ever created? In the short story I published, “Swan Song,” I had this side character who existed simply to be my villain. I didn’t pay him much attention until very late in the creative process, when the editor said the big reveal was too abrupt. (He was right.) So I took that character out to coffee--literally, I took my laptop and a notebook to my favorite coffee place so I could have a distraction-free conversation with him--lit him a smoke (funny thing, I don’t smoke, but literally everyone in that story does and my smoker friends say I got that exactly right), and really, for the first time, tried to get to know him. I knew only the basics, but it turned out he had this whole past (tragic) and motivations that I’d never even seen. Knowing all this didn’t just change the reveal, it pivoted the entire story, and when I sat down to rework that reveal, the words just poured out. It turned out that he was rather an anti-villain and he ended up in an awesome place--if I ever write a sequel to that story, it will be his to tell. Nik, the villain of “Swan Song,” is my favorite because he taught me to look deeper, love harder, and never have a character unless you’ve taken the time to know them all the way down to their shoe size. 

4. Do your stories tend to have only a few characters or a lot?

As few as possible. In fact, I kind of freak out a little bit when I realize I need another character to serve some purpose. 

5. Do you sit down and plan out your worlds or just let them build themselves as you write?

Some of both, really. I tend to write a lot of fanfiction exchanges (or at least, that’s what gets published), and I always do a thorough canon review before I start plotting so I can get voices and world-building details right. My one published original short story is set in Moscow during WWII, and I did a bunch of research on that setting and time period before I went in, but I never really tried to force anything to fit. Interestingly, during revisions, I was able to go back and add date stamps to certain plot points based on my historical research. But  that story also has a magic twist to it (it was for a fantasy anthology) and the magic part just came to me, no building required. 

6. Do you ever meet people and want to write about them? Fictional characters, all the time. I love writing missing scenes. I don’t put much of real-life people into my characters (but I totally could--I work in a public library. Public libraries are literally the last remaining free resource in this country and my job is madness.)

7. What kind of environment do you do most of your writing in? Music or no music? Loud or quiet? In private or wherever? Depends on the day and the story. I have a novel in progress (which will never be finished, probably) and for that I have entire playlists of music for each character. But if there’s music, there can’t be words in a language I can understand, because I will end up singing along. No TV or movies, because I end up watching instead of writing. I like my backyard, and even better, my parents’ backyard. But when all else really fails, I’ll jot out whatever in the notes on my phone. I’m picky, but not picky at all. And if I’m on deadline, I will make that deadline come hell or high water or plague or fire or mass destruction.

8. Do the people in your life ever read what you write, or do you tend to not show them? Not fanfiction. I’m very, very protective of my writing in general. My mom was an English teacher (in fact, she was MY English teacher in tenth grade), and even when I was an undergrad getting my B.A. in English comp, she read all my essays with a red pen (after they’d been graded--and I graduated with a 4.0 in my major!). When I published my original short, she was so proud--and then she pointed out a glaring continuity mistake I had missed in about nine million rounds of editing. When I read my own stuff, I only see the mistakes, so I’m also shy about showing it to anyone else. That said, I have about a million partial fics rotting on my hard drive, phone notes, and Google docs, so someone might want to go after them if I ever shuffle off this mortal coil. 

9. What inspires you? Oh my, so much. Music, other people’s stories, history, walks in the woods, the way the lights in the children’s room at the library change color. Literally everything. Probably the better question is who pushes me, and the answer to that is @dammittmarie, who got me into the school’s Dead Poets Society in undergrad (we met at midnight in the basement of the library and damn, we were cool) and the beautiful @rain-and-roses-in-the-city, who puts up with my crazy ideas, my headcanons, lets me play in her sandbox, and sometimes has even seen the partial stories I talked about earlier. 

10. What’s the weirdest character you’ve ever created? Don’t really have one.

11. What’s the most boring character you’ve ever created? All of them, it feels like sometimes :)

12. Do you name your background characters? Do you even have them? I learned a hard lesson about knowing my characters, so now, if I can’t flesh them out, they don’t appear. 

13. Are you one of the writers who writes in symbolism and specifically thinks about things like the color of a hat or that kind of thing? Or do you just pick those things at random? Sometimes. Not always.

14. Are there any authors you feel have influenced your style? Published authors, fanfic authors, ect. I learn things from everywhere. My gold standard for plot twists is the end of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, which made me screech out loud on an airplane years ago. I think the Hamilton fandom in particular is full of talent, and the WhamFam especially (you know who you are). And going back to @dammittmarie, she’s the one who made me unashamed of being a whump writer. 

15. Were you a story teller before you could write? Yes! I devoured books as a kid, and handwriting came super hard to me. You couldn’t read my penmanship until I was in junior high, so I learned storytelling in the oral tradition first. 

16. How many characters have you created? Not too many. I tend not to write OCs in fanfiction for fear of them coming out like total, obvious Mary Sues. There are maybe a dozen characters in “Swan Song.”

17. Do your stories tend to take place in the real world or in a fantasy world? Both? Neither?

That depends on the story

18. Do you tend to set your stories in the present or the past or the future? Do you think about when it’s set or does that not factor into the story?

Whatever works on a given day for a given story, I guess. I love, love, love the canon era of Hamilton, but I also like modern AUs if they’re done well. So yeah, whatever works. 

19. What kind of things do you like to write? Poetry? Short stories? Novels? Fanfiction? Children’s Books? Nonfiction? Something else entirely? Fan fiction for pleasure. My professional life includes writing book reviews, blog posts on various topics, and newsletters, so fan fiction is escapism for me.

20. Do you like to do events like NaNoWriMo or the Three Day Novel, or do you prefer to do things at your own pace? Yes and no. In my professional life, I’m a volunteer blogger and reviewer on top of the demands of my day job, so I’m almost always on deadline for something. (Right this second is actually an exception--I wrote two articles this weekend and I’m deadline-free until at least April 1.) I tend to write fan fiction at my own (snail on a strong sedative’s) pace, but I have signed up for NaNoWriMo a few times, and I might do Camp NaNo in April because I have a 5k exchange piece due at the end of the month. And the one piece that I’ve published that wasn’t fan fiction actually got finished because I went to a signing where there were like six people and ended up pouring my heart out to this poor author. I told her I had a story and no idea how to start, and she told me to write 100 words a day for 100 days and tweet her my word count every day. If I missed a day, I had to start over. I made it to 100 days, just over 11,000 words, and that piece is good--you can even buy it on Amazon.