#rough draft that has been cut but not polished

[ubejamjar]

neck kisses that turn into love bites .

There’s no explicit sexual content here, but there is spice for anyone who wants to avoid that.

Aymeric de Borel leans over the large, dark wood desk in his study-- a piece that has borne witness to many lonely nights spent reading reports -- and tries to stop staring at Ajisai Kawanami.

She stands on the opposite side of his desk, scribbling furiously in her jagged scrawl, muttering to herself. Ajisai fixates on a piece of paper with Eorzean letters, but the words are Dragonspeak— which annoys her.

“It’s not a written language,” she says, taking a much-needed tea-and-cookie break. Aymeric catches bits and pieces of her rant, something about inflections. Still, he’s distracted by the candlelight dancing over the white of her scales. Would that she could be here more, work feels less demanding when she is.

She smirks, a knowing look in her eyes, “Are you always so interested in linguistics?”

“I suppose that depends on the instructor,” Aymeric replies. The words feel bolder than he does.

Ajisai laughs, “Is that so? I’ll have to keep that in mind.” A curl of blue hair slips its ribbon to rest against her cheek. He wants to brush it back for her. He wonders if she’d let him.

“Your hair, it—”

Tentatively, Aymeric reaches towards her, giving her space to pull away.

She does not.

Ajisai stills as his fingers feather against her cheek, warm and gentle as he sweeps the hair from her face. When his fingertips brush against the base of her horn, she shivers. Aymeric forces himself not to do it again.

He traces her cheek with the back of his hand; his thumb rests near her chin. It would be so easy to simply tilt it up, lean in, and—

Aymeric clears his throat as he draws his hand back. For a moment, he cannot bring himself to look her in the eyes. Instead, he searches her expression for a sign of how she might feel.

She lets out a shaky sigh and he’s not sure if it’s relief or disappointment. She fidgets with a pen on the desktop, searching the map like it might have the answers to her questions. Words fail him as he scrambles to apologize, to explain his lapse in judgment.

“Ajisai I--”

“It’s ok,” she says softly, smiling, “I… I don’t mind. I was just surprised.”

Aymeric hadn’t expected that. He’s not sure what he’d expected. For her to be angry, perhaps. For her to remind him of their professional boundaries.

Ajisai steps to his side of the desk, her hand trailing along its surface. With each step she takes, he feels his love for her bloom in his heart, its petals pressing against walls that can no longer contain it.

Silence stretches between them, nothing but the tick tick of a grandfather clock. Its bells mark the hour. Neither of them catch the time.

Ajisai smooths her hand over the streak of blue fabric pinned across his chest, then again, as if she could find courage in its folds. When her fingers find the collar of his coat, tugging, insistent but never pulling him to her, his resolve splinters.

The line they’d carefully drawn between them blurs. The familiar need to confess everything catches in his throat, the bindings of duty, responsibility, professionalism straining to keep the words suppressed. When he cups her cheek, she leans into his touch, her eyes filled with the very same longing in his. Aymeric doesn’t try to resist, he no longer wants to.

His lips are on hers, hungry and hot. With each kiss, he expresses the things he never said. She tastes like tea, like honey. She matches his eagerness, pulling him closer with an insistence he’s glad to indulge. His hands find their place at her waist, her arms wrap around his neck.

Neither remembers when she ends up on the desk.

Ajisai shivers when she feels his breath just below her horn, a delighted hum escapes her when she feels the gentle pressure of his lips against her neck. He fills the space between her chin and her collarbone with reminders of his adoration. With every press of his lips, he hopes to memorize her.

Ajisai’s voice is a breathless murmur, “Aymeric…”

Then impulse — to bite, to mark her. He trails kisses along until he finds the spot where her neck slopes to shoulder, the perfect spot to bite.

“Wh—“ her question is lost in sound that is somewhere between a whine and a sigh.

She undoes the first few buttons of her blouse, to let the sleeve slip from her shoulder, an invitation to continue his exploration across her skin.

He bites, leaving another mark.

Then another.

and another

and

“Aym—“ she starts. His name melts into satisfied sounds that test his restraint. She has one hand twisting in his shirt..

Then she leans forward, determined to leave a mark of her own. Her fingertips graze against the base of his neck, sending pleasure through him. When she tangles her fingers in his hair, she pulls him close. She alternates between kisses and nibbles, tracing her affection across him just as he had. Her lips brush against a pulse point; he’s certain she can feel his heart beat in his chest. Each time she pries a satisfied hum from him, he feels her smile against his skin.

She’s fiddling with his shirt now, fingers seeking to find him beneath it. Aymeric does the same, daring to find the buttons of her blouse, to find more space for kisses, for little, loving bites.

“My lord?”

The door muffles the steward's voice through the, but it startles them both— the two of them freezing in a passionate tableau.

“Forgive my interruption, but a messenger has arrived for you and Mistress Kawanami, it seems quite urgent.” says his steward from the other side of the door.

Aymeric pulls a hand away and runs it through his hair, the Lord Commander’s demeanor falling easily over the man he’d been moments before,“Thank you Théotime. We shall be there shortly.”

As the steward’s footsteps fade down the hall, Aymeric looks back to Ajisai, and by the Fury, he does not want to leave this moment. She’s sitting on his desk, close to him, the first few buttons of her shirt undone, and the evidence of his ministrations peppered across her shoulder. It does not feel right to stop here, not when her hand is still balled in his shirt nor when the look in her eyes tells him she’s thinking the same thing.

Then she laughs and Aymeric can’t help but laugh along. He steps back reluctantly to let her up.

Ajisai fastens her buttons, the echo of a giggle in her voice, “perhaps we revisit this later?”

“Later, then,” he echoes, as he moves to right his own dishevelment. As they prepare to face whatever urgent matters awaited them, he pressed a kiss to her forehead— a promise for later. Then, Aymeric de Borel opens the door to his study, gesturing for Ajisai, who thanks him with a little curtsy and a teasing wink, and tries not to think about later.

[oreo-creampie]

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧’ 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 • You decide to take things further with Toji for the first time.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 • non-curse au, daddy/princess/doll/sweetheart, heavy praise/teasing/encouragement, teaching/orruption/ virgin kink, mutual masturbation, you just soften him up a little babes he can't help it look at yourself, that being said he wants to rough you up virgin or no, age gap, collage student!f!insecure!early 20s-reader, mid-30!dilf!toji, hints of pussy eating, pussy sleeve toy, flavor lube, squirting, toji talking is filthy as always, massaging and fondling his cock and balls, he kisses your pussy once, light manhandling

𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 • 2k

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐞𝐲: this has been in the drafts too long, I couldn't bring myself to delete it so I polished it up a tad bit and it is what it is

Breaking the kiss, you attempt to steal your nerves whilst catching your breath. "I...Iwantyourcock." You can't bring yourself to grab him. What if you did it wrong? And turned him off by hurting him, or by being unattractive?

Several insecurities steaming from your inexperience and presumed inability to measure up to those of Toji's past. "You look unsure. What's wrong sweet cheeks?" He could read you too well after five months of dating.

Toji squeezes your hip, cupping your cheek. You lean into his warm, rough palm. "Nothing's wrong just nervous." He peers deep into your eyes, searching for the truth.

"We can stop anytime you like but we can't take back what's been done." His sweet, passionate kiss is too short for your liking. "Whatever it is lemme take care of it for ya."

The hope of reassurance from the man you adore and trust makes it so much easier to crumble. "I'm gonna do something wrong." All the insecurities you've been holding at bay overlapping. Tears sting and blur your eyes.

"I'm not pretty, surprised you're still with me, and I won't be as good as-" Toji's cuts you off with a brief rough kiss. You tug on Toji dark hair, sliding your hand down his hard pecs. You fiddle with a button on Toji's black button-up shirt.

Toji wraps an arm around you, carrying you toward his bedroom. You cling to Toji, pressing your squishy body to his muscular one. Enjoying the contrast, and how secure it makes you feel to be carried by Toji.

"That's my beautiful girlfriend you're talking about." Toji drops you onto his bed, stepping back. "Don't care who you are, there are repercussions for anyone disrespecting my girl." Your gaze dips lower with each button Toji undoes. Showing his beautiful sculpted abs you found are sensitive to being kissed and bitten.

You sit up. "What are you gonna do?" Bitting into your bottom lip when Toji grabs his zipper. A cocky smirk etching into his face when he opts for fondling himself through his jeans.

"Nothing but you're gonna be a good girl for me. 'n you're gonna tell me what turns ya on while touchin' yourself." You stand up, turning around and bending over when you slide your panties down your legs. Kicking them back towards Toji.

You stand, your flowy skirt hiding your soaking wet cunt. "Wanna be your baby mama daddy." Reaching back, unzipping your dress with trembling hands. Expecting Toji to scoff at you.

Your cunt gets wetter from Toji's deep groan. "If keep calling me daddy, ya might be." You hear the clink of Toji's belt coming undone. "Turn around n’ look at your Daddy." You take in a shaky breath, your tongue too heavy in your mouth to speak.

He has your underwear in his hand, licking your slick off. Groaning at the taste, "Your beautiful virgin pussy tastes so good." He gives you an idea.

You slip your straps off your shoulders. Sliding your dress down as he does his pants. He wonders, "Does it turn you on thinking about settling down with me? Wanna be my wifey that badly?" When you nod he coo, "Aw ya warmin' up my cold heart doll." Slipping your finger past your lips, coating them.

Holding your fingers to his lips, "Want me to taste more of your soaking cunt? Ask nicely." There is a dark wet spot, his light gray underwear giving a mouthwatering outline. Cupping Toji, fondling him through his underwear.

He grabs your wrist but loosens his grasp as you massage his cock. You can't get the words out "If want to have your cunt filled with my warm cum, have it fucked deep into your guts you'll have't speak to me." Slipping your hand into his underwear. His warm, soft yet hard in your hands. His cock head is wet with smeared pre-cum.

You're wondering how it's easier to act than to plead. "Please Daddy taste my pussy" your voice drops, "fill me full of cum." Dragging his tongue up one of your fingers.

He demands, "Louder princess." He arches a brow and with more volume, you plead,,

"Please Daddy I want you to taste my pussy and fill me full of cum." He takes your fingers into his mouth. Eagerly cleaning your fingers. You slip your hand down, massaging his balls. He slips your fingers out with a pop.

"Your hand is so soft on my cock n' balls. But-" He pulls your hand out of his underwear, pushing you down onto the bed. Spreading your legs roughly, giving you a thrill of excitement.

He looks like on he's on the verge of ravaging your soaking cunt with the hungry almost feral way he looks at your pussy. You fight the urge to cover yourself up underneath Toji's studious gaze.

His scarred lips spread into a wide, cocky, hungry smirk. "Whose virgin pussy is this?" He covers your cunt with his large palm.

It's getting easier to whine, lust clouding your mind. Edging out your anxiety. "Yours Daddy. All yours. Use my virgin pussy to make you feel good." You can't hold your head up when he rubs his palm into your clit and lips. Between having someone else touch your pussy for the first time and the toe-curling pleasurable friction you can't think.

"Baby I just touched you and already you look like you loosen your mind. Such a beautiful, sensitive little virgin cunt pretty n' wet for me mama." He moves his hand to kiss your puffy clit.

Whining when he pulls away. You lift your head watching Toji walk to his dresser, where he pulls out a bullet-shaped toy. It springs to life vibrating, gently humming in his hand.

"Have you used one of these?" His cocky smirk makes it hard to think of little else other than the curve of his lips. The angular shape of his jawline and his narrow, dark brown eyes.

Toji groans, fondling his cock through his underwear. "The way you look at me doll, are you hungry for daddy's cock?" Closing the gap between, grabbing your chin, tilting your head back.

"Answer me mama. I'm being patient for your first punishment but eventually that will run out." He lets go of your chin, holding the vibrating toy out to you. Hesitantly taking it from him.

You huff, "First punishment?!" Furrowing your eyebrows, protesting, "But I did nothing!" He tilts his head to the side, confusion momentarily taking over his features.

Toji drops his underwear, pushing it to the side. "Did my darling forget you talked shit about yourself earlier?" His veiny, thick-hanging cock has you barely paying attention to anything else but his words.

Could he fit? Much less could you wrap your hand around him?

You want to grab him, kiss him, and bite his thigh. "When you throw a tantrum because you're moody or if you disrespect yourself, you'll get punished. Those are my first two rules." Toji grabs your chin, lifting your head. Tearing your gaze from his thick muscular thighs, fat cock, and large balls.

He grabs his cock, lifting it to your lips. "Princess the way you're lookin' at me is boosting my ego. I've been aching to fuck the shyness outta ya." Opening your mouth, sticking your tongue out.

Tempting Toji into touching you more, he glides his cock past your glossy lips. "Fuck I can't help myself. Suck in your cheeks, keep your teeth away, relax your throat." Sticking your tongue out, hallowing your cheeks. Looking up at him with watery eyes, gagging when he goes too deep.

The thought of him using your mouth to get off clouding over your nervousness. The second he stops moving you bob your head. Eliciting a loud groan of, "That's it, good girl, makin' me feel so nggg." His groans are getting rough raspy undertones making your cunt wetter.

"I wonder what crude things you're gonna say when I fuck the shyness outta ya." Tighten your grip on the pulsing toy, dipping it between your legs. You quickly jerk it away.

Toji croons, "Is my princess cute little cunt too sensitive for the toy?" Shoving your head down, forcing his fat, veiny cock into your throat. "That's too damn bad, hold it there." Touching the toy to clit. Whimpering around Toji's cock, curling your toes into the plush carpet sticking out from beneath the bed.

"Don't care how many times you cum if I see you take the vibrator off your clit one more time I'm slapping both your cheeks ten times with my belt." Lightly touching your clit, tensing up, jerking your hips back. It's a struggle to keep it on your clit.

The painful pleasure is beyond anything you felt cumming because of your fingers. Toji croons, "More pressure than that, don't fight the pleasure you can handle it princess. Ngg Such a shame I have to punish ya, when all I want to eat your pussy till she sloppy n' sensitive." He slips his cock out and crouches in front of you.

"But that will have't wait till you understand how beautiful you are." He groans "Never seen a pussy so beautiful to get me drunk on sight." His praise emboldens you to spread your lips apart for him.

"So fuckin' gorgeous, good girl, you already know what daddy wants to see. Mm fuck she's so beautiful clenching, looks like she's throbbing just aching for me to fill her up." He drags two fingers along your lips, gathering slick.

"Too bad I can't eat ya out mama. Such a pretty little virgin pussy, I should want to be gentler with ya. But it's makin' me feral, wanna ruin her, do things you've only read about and seen in porn." He grabs your thighs.

"Wanna be mean and feel your unstretched virgin pussy squeezin' my cock." His filthy words getting you off. "I'm strong enough to make my fat cock fit no matter how tight your little virgin cunt is. It would hurt you so much till I fuck her loose. You would look so beautiful cryin'." Your trembling, your tight cunt dripping cum before his eyes.

The thought of mean, angry Toji fucking you like he hates you is exciting and intimidating.

"It's getting so hard to think straight just lookin' at your pretty cunt. I'm going to make her cum even harder with my dick." He doesn't stop there his thought driving back to his sadistic fantasies.

"The thought of you tryin' to run away from my cock is drivin' me crazy. Wanna pin you down and fuck you into submission. More so I want to make you feel good, I never want to do anything you aren't comfortable with." He stands up, heading for the same drawer, pulling out a clear sleeve, big enough to fit his cock.

You're aching to pull the toy away from your clit. The pleasure is too much. "Daddy!" Willing yourself to withstand the intensity of the toy. If you couldn't take this, then how would you handle your massive boyfriend's oversized cock.

He has the type of cock you only see in videos. It's the type of cock that ruins a pussy for any other cock. And he is going to be your first.

You plead with Toji, "I'll be a good girl for you! I can handle your big cock daddy." He pulls out a bottle, pouring a clear liquid into the sleeve.

"Can you princess?" He sticks to fingers into it, and you've never been so jealous of an object before. "Yes! Daddy I can handle anything you give me. Wanna please you." Your whiny needy voice barely sounds familiar.

He slips his fingers out. "You're such a good little princess so eager to please. You'll be such an easy service sub for me to train." Bringing it over for you to look inside.

He smiles. "Aren't I lucky to get the chance to be your daddy dom." He holds the toy out for you to see. Recognizing the pussy sleeve from videos of muscular men similar to Toji jerking their cocks off with them. The outside of it is a replicate of fat, thick lips, and a puffy clit.

"You have't till I cum to convince me you know how beautiful you are. I want you to watch me fuck it while thinkin' 'bout how deep I'm gonna be in your guts." He spreads the fake lips apart, holding it closer to your lips.

"Put some flavored lube in it, go ahead n' taste." It smells sweet and fruity. Sticking your tongue into it, your nose touches the faux clit.

Toji croons, "Good girl, how does it taste? Hopefully good, 'cause you'll be drinking it with my cum." He pulls it away to line up with his cock. He glides it down his cock, tilting his head back, closing his eyes, and groaning.

"I wanna touch you." You want to be the one to draw pleasure reactions from him. To make him feel so good that his eyes roll back and his body shakes from overstimulation.

Toji insists with a taunting smirk "Shoulda thought of that 'fore shit talking n doubting yourself." Rolling his hips, turning the side showing his thick veiny cock gliding into the toy. "Nng going to stretch your sensitive soaking cunt with my fingers after you drink my cum."The clearness of it lets you see how deep he is reaching.

He's going to reach inside you, stretch your pussy out, and leave his warm cum deep inside you. "You've been blue-balling me for so long if I don't jerk off first I'm going to bust the moment I slip your sexy little super soaker." Your thoughts, his words, the sight in front of you, and the sensitivity of your pussy as you cumming again so quickly.

Your cunt spasming, thick clear cum squirting from your cunt onto the floor, and his bed. "Are you going to cum from watching my beautiful cunt make a mess?" He drops to his knees.

His voice is rough as he orders "Keep talking about your beautiful pussy sexy mama or I'm stopping." He grabs the toy and throws it onto the bed, burying his face into your pussy.

strawberry brat all works

[aadmelioraa]

Hi! I was just wondering, what is the difference for you between the Scrivener categories you use? What makes a certain section redrafted vs revised vs punched up vs polished? Thank you!

Hey!! I am more than happy to elaborate on that post. Here are the scene (or chapter) draft categories I use via the "Label" function in Scrivener, and what each category means to me:

To Write. Any scene that I haven't fully drafted, ranging from an idea in my head to a few bullet points to a scene that doesn't yet have a beginning, middle, and end. Lots of ellipses and all caps notes to myself [ADD CONVERSATION WHERE X AND Y ARGUE ABOUT DINNER PLANS] at this stage. I am a planner-pantser hybrid—I usually start writing without a real outline, and then create and reshape my outline as I continue writing new scenes, the outline evolves as my draft evolves and vice versa. 

Drafted. I have written a full version of the scene. It has a beginning, middle, and end. I have hit all the major points I want to hit. It's messy, but it's on the page. These scenes comprise the Rough Draft.

Redrafted. At this stage, I follow Matt Bell's "Rewrite Don't Revise" advice in Refuse to Be Done (highly recommend this craft book!). Once I have a Rough Draft version of the project (the entire book has a beginning, middle, end, and enough essential connective tissue scenes to prop it up), I print that off* and open a fresh Scrivener file. I hold myself to Matt Bell's no copying and pasting rule, and it's honestly been a game changer mentality for me. I refer to my Rough Draft and my Revision Plan Outline as I create a new draft that is both leaner and more fleshed out as needed. The Revision Plan Outline is the roadmap of the book I wrote (the Rough Draft) spliced with a roadmap of the book I want to write, including new scenes, stronger versions of the scenes I already have, and notes about what needs to be cut. *This is probably obvious, but you don't need to work from a printed copy, you can open your Rough Draft doc side by side with a blank doc if that is more your speed. The important thing is to start with a blank document rather than making revisions to your Rough Draft. It might sound insane, but I've found that it allows me to let go of what I would otherwise struggle to cut, and opens me up creatively to write new material.

Revised. Once I have the fresh, stronger, more intentional version of my scene, I go through and check that it's doing what I need it to do in terms of character work and plot points. It's not only a complete scene in that it begins and ends where I want it to, it's also functioning as part of a whole. 

Punched Up. This is my favorite draft stage in most ways, I just find it really fun and satisfying. My goals are to make sure that the tension is properly threaded, that the emotional beats are landing how and where they need to, that the humor is working, that each character's voice is coming through, that my language is vivid and interesting. 

Polished. Here I am making final cuts and changes, taking things at a line level and evaluating individual word choice. Nitpick city, but ideally in a productive way.

Right now in my current WIP I have an array of scenes at every level in a single Scrivener file. Most of them are Redrafted or above (I already completed a Rough Draft, printed it off, and am working from that and my Revision Plan Outline to create a new version of the book) but there are plenty of scenes in my Revision Plan that didn't exist in the Rough Draft. I will once again shout out @bettsfic and her invaluable developmental insights, you can check out her substack here and read more about her services here.

Anyway, this is what works for me, it definitely won't work for everyone, but hopefully you find something useful here! I will note that you can use the Scrivener "Draft Status" category to function in a similar way as the "Label" category, allowing you to use "Label" to denote POV or something else. Labels are visible in the sidebar (you can find options under "View," and Draft Status shows up in the corkboard view (it's stamped over the notecard for each scene if you select that option).

[ambrossart]

I’ve worked out a new writing schedule

After a little talk with my husband, we have finally come to a mutual agreement and understanding. On weeknights, I get two hours of uninterrupted writing time and, unless we’ve already made alternative plans, weekend mornings/afternoons are reserved solely for writing. We even went out and bought a little sign for my door so that he knows I’m busy. 😂

Honestly, it’s been a bit of a struggle getting my husband to understand my need for privacy while writing. In the past, he would pop in every fifteen minutes to hang out and see what I’m up to, and that was so disruptive to my writing process. My husband didn't get that. I still don’t think he fully “gets” it, but he’s gonna try his best to be more respectful, which all I can ask for.

With that being said, the new chapter of Paper Men is coming along. I’m not as far along as I would like, but I am putting words on the page. Right now, I’m fighting a losing battle against anxiety and perfectionism, so I’m offering myself a compromise/challenge: I will give myself until Wednesday and whatever I have, regardless of the length, regardless of the quality, is getting published. It may be short. It may be boring. Hell, it may be absolute GARBAGE and not even make the final cut. But it’s gonna get published here, as is.

Oh my god, just thinking about that scares the crap out of me. Like, it’s actually making me physically ill. But I wanna do it. I desperately want to get out of this toxic mindset that every draft needs to be as polished and perfect as the final draft. It’s a major hindrance to my writing. How can I expect to move forward when I’m constantly going backwards?

So far, nothing has helped me break free of this. I’ve tried special drafting devices that discourage editing. I’ve tried apps. I’ve tried scheduled writing sprints. Nothing has worked.

So maybe this is the solution. Maybe I need to force myself out of my comfort zone and let people read a truly rough draft.

We’ll give it a shot and see what happens.

[concerningwolves]

There's a post I can't find now that was expressing frustration that a lot of writing advice on writeblr (don't edit as you write, try switching POV for a scene if it's not working, only write the dialogue/only write the action, etc.) is for first drafts and not subsequent drafts. And I do agree, at least in part; a lot of writeblr is focused on how to, y'know, write the story.

It did make me think, though, and what I thought was this: ogres are like onions.

Or, more accurately: stories are like onions (and ogres?), because they have layers, too.

Writers who use the drafting method write drafts, and with each draft, the story gains more layers (layers of meaning, plot coherency, more cohesive ideas, etc). By draft four or five, a story has enough layers that it looks both pretty and structurally sound. Ideally, the only changes you'd need to make at this point are upper-layer, superficial ones – reshuffle some paragraphs, cut some excess scene padding, smooth out some awkward prose. Maybe rewrite or reposition a couple of scenes. Mostly though, the story feels fixed in place and is semi-polished, which is often the biggest obstacle preventing a writer from solving a problem.

Early drafts typically come out kind of wonky and unstable, their component ideas still sludgy from the primordial creative soup. Writing them can feel like sticky, awkward work – but it's also when the ideas flow most freely! The prospect of going back into that sludge might suck, especially if you've already started to see the final version of your story take solid shape, but it might also be the answer to the problem. Sometimes you have to peel back the pretty layers to look at the uglier structure beneath to see what isn't working. Other times, you need to be more hands-on and pretend you're still in the primordial creative soup to get the brain gears properly lubricated again.

Digital art also has layers. Some artists start with a rough sketch, others with blocks of colour. As the layers build up, so does the picture, but every now and then there'll be something about the picture that just isn't right. If the problem is in the sketchy early layers, the usual options are to either a) go back down to that layer and fix it there, then correct the upper layers to match or b) start again, this time learning from the mistakes made before. If something isn't working for me when I'm doing a digital painting, I'll also sometimes open a fresh canvas and mess around with the same concept in different variations as if I'm starting from scratch, then return to the original piece and use whatever I learned to fix it. So long as I don't prematurely flatten the layers, I've got plenty of wiggle room to figure things out in.

So, yes, some writing advice is only going to work for specific stages of story-making. But also, the creative process is a dynamic one, and no part of a story needs to be set in stone until all the layers have been flattened into their final form, ready for sharing with other people.

[boogiewoogieweeb]

SEXSOMNIA U SAY?? 👀👀

GUS!! 😍 HELL YEAH, SEXSOMNIA I DO SAY 😈 okay, so we all know that ned's stress levels go through the roof once they get stuck in the pack and frank takes to drinking like he doesn't want to live anymore, right? so i thought, why not make him so stressed out that all his various repressed victorian issues manifest in him becoming a sexsomniac, aka a sleepfucker :D featuring sex dreams, sleep!sex, switching, and ned's continually declining mental state. fair warning however, as i started writing this firmly with initial dub-con and later cnc in mind, given the subject matter.

and ofc, me being me, this was never NOT going to be joplittle, seeing as they make up about 85% of my terror wips, and around 98% of my brain (1.8% of which is dedicated to thinking about mcnulty at all times, with the remaining 0.2% going towards basic life functions. like sleeping. or breathing.)

so! without further ado, a snippet under the cut, for nsfw purposes (please forgive any spelling or grammar mistakes you see in this; it's still very much a rough draft):

On the third night of waking hard and wanting, chasing the intangible comfort of bodily heat, Edward heaves himself upright after lying breathless and frustrated in the dark for what had seemed at least half an hour, pulls on his trousers and boots, shrugs into his greatcoat and pockets his pipe and tobacco pouch with a mind to relieving George from his position. He’d already had the first watch that night, but sleep seems unlikely to revisit him now, as agitated as he is, and in the absence of a suitable outlet for his desires, keeping busy must take up the slack.

It’s as he’s making his way towards the main hatch, not really paying much heed to anything other than the placement of his own dragging feet, that he quite literally bumps into Jopson. 

“My apologies, Lieutenant,” Jopson offers, blinking owlishly at him before quickly schooling his expression into something more diffident and compliant. He’d stepped back smartly upon taking note of Edward’s presence, but not smart enough to avoid the quick, awkward collision of shoulders and chests in the cramped space of the passageway that follows. “I didn’t expect to run into anyone in officer's country save Lieutenant Hodgson, or perhaps one of the doctors at this hour.” 

Edward’s mouth has gone rather dry. 

Since he’d first boarded Terror in Greenhithe, something that seems nearly a lifetime ago now, Thomas Jopson has stuck in his mind like a particularly egregious thorn. Diligent and competent, the man performs his duties to a standard more exacting than even Edward’s own; as fine an example of a captain’s steward as any Edward can think to name. And yet there always seems to be something sharp and prodding beneath that well-polished veneer of deference, a watchful sort of interest that sets Edward’s teeth on edge. That he’s handsome in that particular way that would set even the most pious penitent’s eyes to roving on dry land, only serves to add to Edward’s sense of discomfiture whenever he’s confronted with Jopson’s otherwise unassuming presence. 

“Sir?” Jopson ventures politely and Edward comes back to himself. 

“A bit restless tonight, Mr. Jopson,” he replies, somewhat hesitant. He doesn’t owe Jopson the explanation, but it feels indecorous not to offer it, especially after having blindly blundered into him. “I was of a mind to relieve Lieutenant Hodgson, in fact.” 

“Not much of the third watch left to relieve him of, if you don’t mind me saying so, sir,” Jopson responds, chin tilted consideringly. “But perhaps I could fetch you a cup of tea if you’d like?”

Edward considers the offer, taking a long look at the main hatch over Jopson’s shoulder. The idea of being up on deck had been a particularly unpleasant one even as he’d shaken off the afterimages of the latest dream, but it had seemed the only viable option at the time. Jopson’s comparative offer is much more tempting, even if the tea will only aid in his tiredness come daybreak. 

“Only if it won’t be any trouble, Mr. Jopson,” Edward agrees after a moment. 

“This way then, Lieutenant. And it’s no trouble at all, sir,” Jopson assures him with a faint smile, really no more than a quick quirk at one corner of his mouth. But the sight is enough to send a flush of warmth racing up Edward’s spine all the same as he follows Jopson’s lead to the officer’s mess. 

“I thought to brew a fresh pot for Lieutenant Hodgson on his way down, so it’s rather fortunate our paths crossed as they did, sir. Saves us both some trouble now, doesn’t it?” 

Edward frowns at that. “Shouldn’t Mr. Gibson be attending to this, then?” Billy Gibson is a suitably decent and motivated steward, if not a particularly noteworthy one, and Edward’s never had cause for complaint with the man or his work before, nor considered him the kind to shirk his duties, but if he’s fobbing chores off onto Jopson– 

“Ah, no, sir,” Jopson cuts in before ducking his head awkwardly. Edward catches only a brief glimpse of his expression, but it’s enough to register it as an embarrassed sort of discomfort. “I was having trouble sleeping myself, so I offered to take up his shift.” 

Before Edward can think to control himself, a surprised bark of laughter escapes him. Jopson chances a look back at him over his shoulder, discomfort giving way to bemusement. “What a pair we make, Mr. Jopson,” Edward tells him, shaking his head. 

“Indeed, Lieutenant Little,” Jopson replies with another small, evasive smile, expression clear once more as he holds the door to the mess open for Edward to enter. “Be right back, sir,” he tells Edward, before heading off to fetch the tea service. 

Later, back in his berth with a belly full of warm tea, Edward closes his eyes and doesn’t dream of anything other than blue eyes and quiet company. 

—-------------- 

“Sir. Oh, sir,” Jopson’s voice hitches on a moan muffled into the meat of Edward’s shoulder, teeth grazing the sweat-slicked skin there. He’s sat firmly in Edward’s lap, thighs splayed wide atop him, regal in his nakedness, and Edward is buried to the hilt in his brilliant, blazing heat; mind empty of anything else save the gloriously winding coil of lust slung low and tight about his groin like a clove hitch. 

“Edward,” Jopson breathes against him, setting fire wherever his mouth makes contact, body tightening around Edward’s prick like the most exquisite vice. “Harder. I want to-” A groan, an indrawn breath. “God, I want to know your shape always, want to feel how well you fill me for days to come.” 

Edward, blind to anything but his need and the sound of Jopson’s voice, obeys; thrusts deeper, and sharper, angling just so to hit that place he knows so well from his own experience can bring a man to rushing, all-consuming crisis in a matter of minutes. Above him, Jopson is a living conflagration, every place his body touches Edward’s a red-hot brand. He’s never been so warm before in all his life, nor so grateful for such heat. 

“Edward, Edward, there, just there,” Jopson sings out his praises, hands fisted in Edward’s hair, hips undulating like a serpent, taking his aching prick so well, as if he’d been made for it, sculpted from the finest clay - and all for Edward, only for him. 

Edward’s eyes are squeezed shut, body drawn corkscrew-tight with pleasure. He’s close, he’s so close- 

“Sir?” Jopson questions, but his voice is different, no longer rough and breathless with desire. Edward can feel the wave cresting, ready to break. His cock is a piston between Jopson’s thighs, the rhythm of his thrusts punishing, the sound of flesh meeting flesh carrying around them, loud like the staccato of rapping knuckles on wood. 

“Sir?” Jopson asks again, voice stranger still. Edward wraps a tight fist around Jopson’s own length, hard against his belly, hoping it’ll distract him. He’s on the very edge now, sparks dancing behind his closed eyes, a bonfire blazing in the dark there. 

“Lieutenant Little, sir, it’s morning already.” 

Jopson kisses the words onto his brow with Billy Gibson’s voice just as Edward’s crisis hits, and Edward jolts awake in a tangle of limbs and bedlinens with Jopson’s name still caught in the back of his throat. 

“Sir, is everything alright?” Gibson’s unsure voice comes floating again from beyond the door to Edward’s cabin, following another knock. 

“A moment please, Gibson,” Edward pants out, heart racing, stiff and uncomfortable under a sheen of quickly cooling, souring sweat; the remnants of his lust still warm and tacky where it sticks his nightshirt to his skin.

[feelingkoii]

FFXIVWrite2024 - A week in

Whew, okay. This week went well. I think. I manged to get every prompt into the spreadsheet on time, and I managed to get around to writing 1,000 words for each of them. That being said one prompt wasn't submitted with 1,000 words but that was due to a power cut, and considering that the word count is my own personal challenge and not a hard and fast rule, it should be fine. I think challenging myself to write all these prompts about just this one oc has been good and bad. Mielikki is my canon warrior of light, and me and my friends Shard, Rose, and Izayoi have a rough draft of an idea on how our characters interacted with the story. It is fun to romp onto, but I find myself wishing that we had a more concrete agreed upon set of events. The uncertainty does give me creative freedom however so I can't fault it entirely. HTML on AO3 is still quite a pain, I've taken to formatting my table of contents in Visual Studio code and just pasting it into AO3 since AO3 seems dead-set on ruining my nicely ordered lines and easy-to-understand structure. Oh well, once it's in the page nobody can see that AO3 has turned it into spaghetti.

Overall, I'm really, really proud of this first week and what I've managed to accomplish. No, not all these writings are fully polished and they're not all at the absolute apex of my skill, but they're also not trying to be. I think they work for what it is, and hopefully I can quickly get the XIVSapphicSunday before the free-space rolls around.

[pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer]

Rivers Branching (draft part b)

Even with the extraordinary heights the ocean had risen to, the Central Andes Mountains still managed to tower above it proudly.  Ash, Marisol, and Garrick followed a narrow path across the rock face that skirted the water’s edge.  Thick rainclouds and thicker silence hung over the travelers, until a boulder up ahead shifted and something stepped out.  Garrick’s dull eyes flashed to life.  “It’s a kappa!”

This one was far less imposing than the Baron they had just made the acquaintance of: he stood at a mere four feet, give or take the hunch on his back, and a sea of wrinkled green skin churned beneath long, scraggly white hair that hung from the sides of the dish in his head and from his face in an unkempt beard.  Garrick opened his spellbook immediately, but the kappa only ducked behind his walking stick with a cry of “Oh, goodness!”

Ash grabbed Garrick’s outstretched arm and pulled him back.  “Hey, cut it out!  He’s not our enemy!”

Garrick’s brow furrowed.  “Beg your pardon?”

“It’s true, Mr. Blackwood,” Marisol said as she positioned herself between him and the creature.  “This is Okagami-san—he’s been a close ally of Commander Willow’s for a long time now.”

Okagami quietly cleared his throat.  “Ah, good morning!  Ever so sorry for frightening you; somehow I always forget to give newcomers a wider berth.”

Garrick kept his eyes locked on Okagami.  “Hm.  That’s right, I forgot that Laverne won this place from a kappa official.”

“Kyeheheh,” Okagami chuckled.  “She’s quite the formidable shogi player.  I never had a chance.”  He perked up.  “Oh?  Ash, are you injured?”

Ash grimaced.  “It’s, uh, nothing serious.  Speaking of Commander Willow, is she available, do you know?”

“Oh yes: she actually sent me to collect you three.  If you’ll follow me, please.”

Marisol and Ash were quick to comply.  Garrick waited a few moments before closing his spellbook and heading after them.

Carved inside the mountains were great, intricate tunnel systems lined with electric lighting and filled with countless humans.  The path leading outside was rough-hewn, but the walls smoothed out gradually, with the larger chambers more finely detailed with artistic intent.  After crossing four such chambers, the party ascended a spiral staircase to a floor with one open wall supported by pillars that turned into an outside balcony; rather than step out, however, they came to a set of massive double doors that opened with a knock from Okagami’s staff.  The hall beyond was coated in polished tiles, and empty save for the desk opposite the entrance.  There sat an older woman, tall with deep brown skin and dreadlocks in various shades of green, who rose at their arrival and straightened the emerald jacket of her uniform as they came closer.

“Reporting in, Commander Willow,” Marisol said.  “We are ready for debriefing at your leisure.”

The Commander gave a low hum.  “Debriefing.  Right.  Where to even begin…”

Garrick stepped forward.  “Greetings, Laverne.  You seem to be doing well.”

She looked him up and down.  “Wish I could say the same.  But then again, I’m just shocked to see you’re still alive.”

Willow then turned to Ash.  He swallowed hard.  “Uh, ma’am.”

“There’s plenty we could discuss about your behavior on this mission.”  She pinched the bridge of her nose.  “But.  Now probably isn’t the time.”

Ash let out a long breath.

“First of all, how are you healing?”

“Fine.”  He set a hand on his wounded shoulder, and his scorch-wither primrose sprouted from his wrist.  “Zoe’s been taking great care of me, nothing to worry about.”

“That’s good.”  Willow glanced at Garrick.  “And how’re you doing…otherwise?”

Ash cast his gaze aside; Zoe wilted in the same direction.  “Eh…I’ll let you know when I figure it out.  Um, Commander.”

“On a related note, if I may,” Marisol said.  “Healing Ash has used up a lot of Zoe’s energy, so if possible, I would recommend we keep this succinct in order to get her under a UV lamp as soon as possible.”

Willow nodded, but before she could reply, Garrick said, “The bottom line: I’ve discovered the general location of the Wukong Codex, and request additional support in retrieving it.”

Okagami’s long eyebrows went up.  “The Wukong Codex?  Well, well, well.  If we could wrest that from Kuzenbo-sama’s control, it would be a devastating blow to his empire.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Willow said.  “Garrick, when you say ‘general location’, what exactly do you mean?  How general are we talking?”

Flipping through his book, he said, “I’ve confirmed it to be in the Eurasian Delta, but nothing more concrete than that.”

“I thought as much.  Now, I know you’ve been gone awhile, but tell me: do you think we have the manpower to comb through the entire Eurasian Delta?”

“It needn’t be the entire Delta.  I imagine a team of approxima—”

“Missing the point.  What I’m saying is that we’re already stretched thin, especially now that the Earl of the Southern Waters is ramping up attacks on this base.  Even sending a small team would carry a lot of risk, and without more to go on, I’m not sure it’d be the right call.”

Garrick frowned.  “But…Laverne.  This could change everything.  The Codex is our best bet at overthrowing Kuzenbo and freeing humanity from the kappa.  Is that not worth the risk?”

Ash shifted his weight.  Marisol glanced at him.

“This is going to be a long discussion, I’m sure,” Willow said.  “We’ll save it for later.  Marisol, Ash, you’re relieved.  Go take care of Zoe.  As for you, Garrick: I’ll set aside some time for us to talk things over properly.  In the meantime, take the chance to rest.  It looks like you could use it.”

Willow returned to her seat.  Garrick lingered a moment, but ultimately left with the others.  As they neared the door, Okagami tapped Marisol’s arm, saying, “Pardon me, but before I forget again: there’s something I have for you, dear Marisol.”

Marisol tilted her head as Okagami produced an envelope: the paper was gold-colored, with flowing designs etched into the corners and some sort of wax seal keeping it shut.  Taking it, she said, “Um…thank you.  But, what—”

Okagami held a finger to his beak.  “I might recommend opening that when you’re alone, my dear.  It’s something I imagine will come as a bit of a shock.”

Marisol nodded slowly as she and the others exited Willow’s office, closing the doors behind them.  Garrick said, “I don’t understand her hesitance.  I’ll just have to be more persuasive, I suppose."

"Right," Ash said, “well, good luck with that.  I have to go, but I’m sure someone around here can help you find a place to stay.”

“What about your brother?  Where is he?”

Ash and Marisol both went still.  Clenching his fists, Ash took a deep breath and turned around—

—just as a woman came running out of nowhere to punch Garrick off his feet.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face around here, old man!” she said, removing the black jacket of her uniform before cracking her knuckles.  “Come on, get up!”

Ash did his best to stifle a chuckle.  “Uh, thanks, Brenda, but I’ve got it under control.”

She swiveled to face him.  “Huh?!  The hell you mean, kid?  If I’d seen you taking shots at him I wouldn’t’ve interrupted, but—”

Garrick groaned as he picked himself up.  “My word, what is going on in this place…?”

Brenda started to move, but Marisol grabbed her wrist.  “Brenda, that’s enough for now!”

“Not even fucking close!  I ain’t quitting until this deadbeat is on death’s door!  It’s the least he deserves after abandoning Oren and Ash!”

Garrick adjusted his glasses.  “I was away longer than anticipated—I grant you that.  But who are you?  And where is Oren?  I’d like to—”

“He’s dead.”  Ash dug his fingers into his bandages.  “…He died a long time ago, Dad.”

Garrick’s face went blank.  Brenda huffed, then took Ash by the shoulder and led him down the spiral staircase, Marisol just a few steps behind.

“…Seems you got banged up pretty good, kid,” Brenda said a few floor later.  “Zoe probably needs to recharge, I’m guessing?  You, uh, want company?”

Ash rubbed his neck.  “I appreciate it, but…”

“Sure, no worries.  But if you do wanna talk, come find me, okay?”  She ruffled his hair a little, kissed the top of his head, and then stopped at the nearest landing, while Ash and Marisol continued on.

“Have to admit,” Marisol said, “I didn’t think she’d go right for him like that.”

Ash scoffed.  “You kidding?  She used to put me to bed by telling me stories about all the different ways she was going to injure him if he ever came back.”

“Heh, yeah, I believe it.  How often did she repeat herself?”

“It was a shockingly rare occurrence.  She’s very creative.”

Eventually the two of them disembarked on a lower level and reached a small laboratory.  As the lights flickered on, Ash sat on the one available stool next to the room’s island console, while Marisol opened a cabinet and rummaged a bit to find a small lamp.  Setting it on the console, she angled it carefully and reached towards Zoe.  The flower perked up, extending her stem so she could slither forward and wrap around the base of the lamp, which bathed her in ultraviolet light when Marisol turned it on.  She spread her petals and twirled slightly; Ash could feel her elation as if it were his own, bringing a smile to his lips.

“Didn’t take long for Doc to make a mess of this place,” Marisol grumbled as she cleared a second stool.  The primrose in her hair also slowly snaked her way towards the lamp, settling next to Zoe and lapping up the rays.  “Don’t smother her, Gabriela, she’s exhausted.”

The two flowers basked happily as Marisol finally took her seat.  Ash placed his chin on his knuckles, saying, “You worry too much.”

She raised one eyebrow and gave him a dull look.  “Am I supposed to take that seriously, my most frequent patient?”

“Hey, sometimes I’m not even hurt: I just come for the bedside manner.”

“Hmm.  Well if you keep pulling stupid stunts like this one, you’ll be seeing a lot less of me at your bedside.”

“Noted.”  He turned to look at the wall, a row of potted plants sitting against it in a neat line.  “Those ferns are already looking a lot better.”

Marisol leaned against the console.  “They’re resilient.  All they needed was some fresh air pumped in.”

“Don’t sell yourself short!  I dare anyone to find a better psychobotanist in the whole world!”

She rolled her eyes.  “I’d settle for just another psychobotanist.”

“See?  Your skill is unmatched!”

“Heh…well…flattering as all this is.”  Marisol’s tone turned somber.  “I think we need to talk seriously, at least a little.”

Ash sighed.  “Probably…but do we have to?”

Marisol took his hand.  “I’m asking you to.”

[renegadeknight]

Can I be super obnoxious about the ask game? ‘Cause I’m gonna.

2, 4, 17, 18

If you only want to answer one… 17 or 18. (You know I’m a whore for the snips.)

love that for me 💙

2. a character whose POV you're currently exploring

I'm actually currently trying to wrangle some Tommy POV, which has been harder than I thought it would be 😅

4. a story idea you haven't written yet

Ugh so many but one I'm really excited to get to eventually is another alt meet au where Joel finds an injured Ellie in the woods while he's on a remote-ish Jackson patrol and then he has to deal with the fallout when some raiders/fireflies come looking to take her back

17 got a little long so I put it under the cut with 18, thank you for the ask!

fic writer ask game!

17. talk about your writing and editing process

it feels like a chaotic mess to me but I usually start with a very rough just bare bones draft of something, I usually call this "word vomit" cause that helps me combat the perfectionism and just get shit on the page. some parts will be more fleshed out than others on this initial pass if a certain scene/moment strikes me, but sometimes it's literally just "Ellie says something that makes Tommy want to walk in front of a train" like vibes and what I want are easier to jot down at first even if I don't know how it's going to play out quite yet then I go back through for a second pass and try to flesh out the structure of the scene, what's my goal and who goes where and does what to achieve that goal. this can be more or less polished depending on how many mental drafts I've done of the scene. sometimes if it's a lot of convo I'll cut that to another document to work on just the dialog with no narrative distractions and then cut it back in to work out the body language interactions etc. but I still sometimes leave carrots like "<something something he asks one more question and she snaps something back" and leave it for future me to figure out and then the third pass is where I start to finalize things and paying more attention to how I'm saying things instead of what I'm saying. I try to work out all the carrots that I left behind and make sure I've hit all the story beats I was aiming for. if I'm not completely done with it after that, I'll read through one more time just for a flow/vibe check, pick up some typos if I'm paying close enough attention and then post it immediately because if I don't then I will keep picking at it until my eyes bleed

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

This was some very early drafting for Stubborn Love where I thought Joel might push for Ellie to get a say that first time Tess came to take her to a permanent placement, and then Ellie promptly disappeared from said placement. Obviously I ended up going a different way with it, cause I felt like it was too early in the game for her to be running away and Joel to know exactly where she went. So I used that later 😉

And this was also very early SL drafting of the "not your dad/not my daughter" conversation where initially I had this idea that Ellie thought Joel was just estranged/ghosted Sarah and so she sort of stepped in it a bit. Ultimately I decided to let Ellie figure that out before this conversation cause it felt like she would piece that together. (also an example of mostly keeping to the dialog in early drafting, and "Silence for a hot second" would defs get revised to something more eloquent lol)

[katrinafaire]

Lessons From Fanfic: own it.

So I mentioned in a couple places before that I write fanfic. Prolifically. I've written over a million words in over ten years (for the uninformed, while this is a lot I doubt I'm anywhere near the higher percentage of really prolific writers) and most of them have been very well received. In fact, I do intend to write and post more!

So while this "original works" thing I'm rusty at, I'm a very practiced writer. And I learned a lot from fanfic. And there's something very peculiar there that I have learned from and wanted to share here too, because this is an easy trap for anyone, but especially newbies, to fall into. If you don't read much further, read and internalize this next sentence:

If you don't believe in your story, no one will.

(This is not 100% accurate: author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who came to despise his Sherlock Holmes series which was wildly popular and has been for over a century, is an outlier and should not be counted.)

Humor aside though, I'm serious. If you try to get people to read for pity, people - even people who would otherwise read it and love it - will avoid reading it. Few are the people who are told by a stranger "this is probably trash, but it's my first try so please read?" are going to find themselves endeared to the writer or the story. Modesty is a virtue but self-depreciation only makes things awkward.

You wrote this story because it fascinates you. Because there's a world and people and plot you fell in love with. Tell people that! Tell people why they should love it too! Be your biggest fan and most vocal promoter. Reblog your own promo posts, at different times of the day throughout different times of the week for exposure. Tag it for #writers on Tumblr and #original writing, tag your genres. Talk about your characters and the setting and everything that makes it special.

Write a love letter to your work and toss it out there for people to see with playlists, character sheets, lore snippets and mood boards. Get involved with other authors and listen raptly to their work and then share yours!

You are worthy of attention. Your work may be a diamond in the rough, in need of a superior cut and polish, maybe even needing some dirt washed off and buffed off imperfections. Maybe it is worlds away from a publishable draft.

But it's your baby. Nurture it. And if no one else told you today, whatever it is? It's awesome because you made it in a way no one else could. Own it. Say "this is mine and I love it and this is why you should too!" Be your biggest fan, and don't worry if it takes a while for other people to realize it's good. Your work will not be for everyone, but you're writing what will be someone's favorite story someday. Remember that.

You'll get there, okay? I believe in you.

[dcbbw]

Sneak Peek Sunday

Hoppy Easter to all the Tumblrs that celebrate! 

I am behind on a ton of deadlines posting-wise. I’m just dealing with a LOT: medical issues, legal issues, family drama, and hot-ass messiness at work. I’m also pondering my future on tumblr, but for now I do have at least 4 more fics that I intend to write, and post here: an MC lunch ask, #KLAW submission, @bebepac​’s birthday fic, and possibly a Drake-centric fic inspired by a song (or two) currently on repeat in my Spotify.

All of that is to say I DO have something to share: snippets from two fics that WILL be posted this week: my submission for Maxwell Beaumont’s birthday appreciation and my Luck of the Draw fic.

Snippets are below the cut, and a little longer than six sentences as I only have two entries this time around. As always everything is in a state of rough draft; final versions may vary.

Birthday Boy

Once again, it’s my birthday. A milestone one: The big 3-5.

I remember when I thought 35 was old.

I’m celebrating at the Great House that belongs to the duchy King Liam bestowed upon my wife. I’m celebrating with family, friends, and members of Cordonian Court. How I’m greeted lets me know which category a person falls into.

The East Ballroom has been transformed from cold marble and stiff curtains into a discotheque, complete with sequined balls suspended from the ceiling, a DJ, and a dance floor with color-lit tiles. At the moment, the children of Court are playing hopscotch on it while the adults partake of the buffet tables and open bars.

As I make my way through the throng, I grin, shake hands, and thank people for coming. I see my children in my peripheral vision and feel my heart swell to near bursting; my daughter is the spit and image of her namesake, Annabelle. My mother. Her tobacco-colored ringlets bounce as she skips over squares colored green, blue, red, purple. Her sapphire-blue eyes squint in concentration, and her plump lips part as she emits laughs and squeals.  

Her brother Dimitri, two years younger, follows behind her as he clumsily mimics her movements while yelling it’s his turn. He has dark hair and brown eyes like his mother, but he gets his personality from me.

I press forward, my wife now in my sights. Her dark hair is in an upsweep knot, and her cream-colored gown flows over her body. I pause to take her in and marvel at how far she’s advanced since Social Season. She’s no longer coarse and rough-edged; now she’s polished and cultured.

Sometimes.

She’s talking to the King and Queen, and I can tell from her posture the conversation is either agitating or exciting her. Her hands are gesticulating wildly; I already know words are tumbling from her lips as if they were balls being lobbed from a machine.

The King’s eyes roll in amusement while my wife talks; I assume it’s excitement that has my partner so animated. Liam tugs his Queen closer to him just as Crown Princess Eleanor tugs at her mother’s dress and pulls the monarchs’ attention.

As I draw closer to the trio, I wonder for the zillionth time how she’s with me.

After all, she came to Cordonia for Liam.

She stays in Cordonia because of Liam.

Three Blind Mice (LotD, Chapter 6 of The Commoner’s Wife)

“I appreciate your obvious…. attraction to me, Your Highness, but my heart and affections have been claimed by another.”

“You mean your best friend’s wife? Listen to me, Your Majesty….no royal or noble worth their salt will accept a divorced commoner as Queen. Your court will be the laughingstock of Europe and you…. you’ll be the biggest scandal since King Edward VIII. At least he was lucky enough to choose love over Crown, but you don’t have that luxury, do you? Your brother beat you to it.”

“What I do with my personal life, especially when it takes place in Cordonia, is no one’s business but mine. And if you wish our countries to remain in good standing, you will stop talking,” Liam growled.

“Even when it involves fucking other men’s wives?” Marguerite arched an eyebrow.

She lowered it when Liam’s eyes narrowed dangerously. The Princess still needed to make an advantageous match; Liam was the best of the lot. When she spoke again, her tone was more conciliatory.

“Darling, I’m offering you not only a union, but an alliance … a chance to rule over two countries, not just one. We don’t need to be in love and arrangements can be put in place, but only one of us can be scandalous, and I’ve already claimed dibs on that.”

The Princess smiled brightly before downing the remainder of her beverage. She looked around the room before setting the champagne flute on the table in front of her and gathering her purse.

“I’m sure the three of you have much to discuss; I’ll see myself out,” she spoke to everyone and no one.

She began rummaging inside her bag, murmuring to Liam that he could email her a non-disclosure agreement. “As juicy as this morning has been, I wouldn’t tell anyone; however, I understand the need for assurance.”

Marguerite rose, a plastic keycard between her fingers which she offered to Drake.

“Retaliation fucks can be most satisfying. I have a standing room at the Savoy Five Kingdoms. They have an excellent bar and even better room service. Drop by anytime today; I fly out in the morning.”

Riley’s face was dark with anger; her eyes held a flicker of fear.

Liam’s head fell into his open palms.

Drake stared blankly at the key before raising his eyes to the monarch of Monaco.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

Marguerite looked puzzled as she tucked the key into his jacket’s breast pocket.

“That’s the entire purpose, darling.”

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[morgana96]

Rewriting the Lancer Quests

(Warning: Spoilers for Lancer Quests, but with heavy canon divergence)

A while back, I wrote a critique of FFXIV’s Lancer Quests, where I talked about how they’re tragically bad compared to other job/class quests. I’ve thought a lot about how I would write the story differently given the chance. And while it took forever to put it all together, I'm finally satisfied with this rough outline I came up with for a potential Lancer Quests rework!

This rewrite is what I’ve adopted for my Warrior of Light’s canon, and while the main characters are mostly the same, I’ve also included some who weren’t in the original storyline - including original characters created specifically for this new narrative.

It’s nowhere close to a fully polished script/draft, and anything here could change if I come up with something better. But I'd love to write this out as a full story someday, as well as other stories featuring my WoL!

Lancer Quest Rewrite Outline

Level 1

The quest remains mostly the same up until WoL returns from the canon first trial (killing 3 ladybugs, 3 squirrels, and 3 funguars out in the Black Shroud).

When reporting back to Ywain, a Wildwood Elezen in Wood Wailer uniform interrupts. This individual, named Gauvain, insists that pest control is hardly a difficult task, even for a two-bit adventurer. He goes on a rant about how the guild shouldn’t be reduced to recruiting unqualified outsiders to their ranks.

Ywain is quick to denounce this behavior, harshly reminding Gauvain that the Guild’s founder, Mistalle, developed their current techniques by learning from other nations and groups. He advises the disrespectful Wailer that if he’s so against “outsiders”, perhaps he should find a fighting class more aligned with his ignorance.

Humiliated by this reprimand, Gauvain angrily skulks off, muttering complaints and swears under his breath.

Ywain apologizes to WoL, promising to report Gauvain’s behavior to his superiors. He explains that a lancer learns best from experience, and that in time, WoL will steadily hone their abilities with strategy, technique, and understanding of courage.

He encourages WoL to continue practicing, and that he is looking forward to their promising future as a lancer.

Level 5

The quest is the same as canon until WoL returns from the collapsed pillars outside of Spirithold.

WoL’s conversation with Jillian (the guild’s receptionist) is cut short when another guild member enters in a panic. When asked what’s wrong, the frightened man reveals that there’s a corpse floating in the water right near Westshore Pier. A horrified Jillian rushes to inform Ywain, while WoL quickly heads outside to the scene.

When WoL arrives at the pier, the body has already been pulled from the water. It doesn’t take long to recognize the deceased as Gauvain, the Wood Wailer who had previously belittled them.

Ywain, along with Wood Wailer Captain Swethyna Brookstone, arrive at the pier not long after. The corpse’s extensive injuries make it clear to Swethyna that this was likely not an accident. Ywain also notes that there are several deep wounds likely made by a lance, and that the assailant is likely far from a novice.

Ywain apologizes to the WoL, claiming that the seriousness of the situation might end up delaying their training. However, WoL offers to help in piecing together what happened. While Ywain is initially reluctant to put such pressure on a recruit, he can quickly tell that the WoL is determined, and agrees to their offer of assistance.

Swethyna states that she will take care of the body’s removal and autopsy - she suggests that the others return to the guild and stay vigilant, as there’s now an assumed killer on the loose. Unbeknownst to any of them, a figure is watching the pier from a distance. He says nothing, but seems amused by the sight before him, and sneaks off as the shaken crowd of onlookers starts to disperse.

Back inside the guild, Ywain congratulates WoL for their success at Spirithold, and also thanks them for their willingness to balance their training with the impending investigation.

He admits that he and the deceased weren’t exactly on good terms; Gauvain had previously vied to become guildmaster and felt “cheated” out of it when Swethyna offered the role to Ywain instead. He was regularly belligerent towards not only him, but other lancer recruits he deemed “unfit” for the lance.

Regardless of his personal issues with Gauvain, Ywain insists it’s his duty to find his murderer, especially when the motive remains a complete mystery. He prioritizes focusing on WoL's training for now, and promises to update them as soon as there are any developments.

Level 10

Ywain greets WoL, saying he can tell they’ve been working hard at their training. He also reports that they’ve already begun investigating the murder of Gauvain.

Based on current findings, Gauvain was likely tortured and killed elsewhere before being thrown into Whispering Gorge. He was a first class sergeant in the Third Spears - a branch of the Wailers deployed in the Central Shroud - which makes it especially strange that he was found in water connecting to the East Shroud. Ywain theorizes that this could be an indicator of malicious intent; the killer could’ve wanted the corpse to be found by the lancer’s guild, perhaps due to some sort of grudge.

Ywain insists that they’ll need to piece together Gauvain’s final hours in order to get the answers they seek, so he asks WoL to meet him at Bentbranch Meadows in the Central Shroud, where he will provide them with further instructions.

Once at Bentbranch, Ywain explains that he intends to find potential persons of interest - those who may have known Gauvain or simply seen him before the murder. He asks WoL to cover the Bentbranch area while he surveys the Jadeite Flood, and recommends they meet up at the Bannock when they’re finished.

WoL questions three different individuals, and quickly learns that Gauvain has an extremely infamous reputation.

One woman at Bentbranch Meadows - a Duskwight Elezen - hardly knew the deceased. But she does recall an instance where he spoke derogatorily to her due to her race. She claims it doesn’t surprise her that someone finally grew tired of the man’s ego and prejudice.

At Galvanth’s Spire, a Miqo’te Wailer who served under Gauvain claims that the man was rude, condescending, and hypocritical. Many under his command greatly disliked him, with the only exception being a man named Thibault, an equally condescending second class sergeant who would regularly join Gauvain on patrols.

A fisher at the Mirror Planks admits that while out in the woods gathering grubs to use as bait, he’d witnessed Gauvain taking bribes from poachers. He wasn’t noticed but didn’t report the incident out of fear of retaliation. He also reveals that there was another Wailer present with Gauvain at that time; he didn’t recognize the other man, but notes that he was another Wildwood Elezen with slicked back brown hair.

At the Bannock, WoL approaches Ywain as he talks with the Third Spear Chief Sergeant. After informing him of what they’ve learned, Ywain reports that he’s heard much the same through his inquiries, and he is disgusted that Gauvain would abuse his power in such a way.

The Chief Sergeant, based on WoL’s description, theorizes that the other Elezen the fisher described was Thibault, adding that complaints about him and Gauvain were becoming more frequent in recent months. She had started filing a report to have the two suspended for their behavior, but is even more unsettled to hear these new bribery allegations.

Ywain theorizes that these misdeeds could be connected to Gauvain's murder. He also states that Thibault is definitely a potential suspect; if he was involved in the bribery scheme, he might have killed Gauvain in order to increase his own ill-gotten profits.

The Chief Sergeant informs them that Thibault left for a patrol near the Naked Rock in Greentear bells ago, and assures that the Third Spears will give their full cooperation in the ongoing investigation. Ywain asks WoL to locate Thibault and have him report back to the Bannock, adding that it’s best they not reveal the details of why to him just yet. The guild master also advises them to stay vigilant, as the area is a known raptor nesting ground.

When WoL arrives at Naked Rock, they discover a deceased Thibault, and must fight off a pack of anole raptors looking to make a meal out of the corpse.

It doesn’t take WoL long to realize that Thibault wasn’t the victim of a raptor attack; his injuries are nearly identical to those suffered by Gauvain. But as they process this turn of events, they are suddenly interrupted by the voice of a stranger, who callously mocks Thibault’s fate.

WoL comes face to face with another lancer - a Duskwight man with white hair, dark skin, and vibrant pink eyes. With little reluctance, the man reveals he is the one who slaughtered Thibault, acting disappointed because he’d hoped to watch the raptors chew on Thibault for a while longer. But now that WoL has caught him in the act, he insists they’ll just have to be the raptors’ next course.

The man charges, seeming intent to attack. WoL does not flinch, taking a defensive stance and maintaining eye contact. However, the tip of the lance stops just short of WoL’s face, and the assailant retreats with an amused smirk.

The impressed stranger - Foulques - claims WoL seems different from the Lancer Guild’s usual whelps. He suggests that they should forsake the Guild and allow him to become their personal mentor instead, arguing that their skills would be fully realized under him.

When WoL refuses, Foulques calls it a waste, claiming they will inevitably find only disappointment and betrayal with the guild. He decides he will simply have to show them - and all other lancers - the consequences of crossing him, and quickly vanishes.

When WoL returns to the Bannock, Ywain is shocked as they tell him what they encountered. He apologizes for unknowingly sending them into imminent danger, but is proud of how they maintained their composure in the face of such a dangerous adversary.

Since he’ll need to inform the Third Spears of the murder and the body’s location, Ywain advises WoL to return to Gridania ahead of him, where they can discuss these new developments.

Back at the guild, Ywain says that Thibault’s body has been recovered, though he’s frustrated that any answers the man held have now died with him. He states that while this Foulques seems to be their culprit, his statements to WoL indicate that his spree is unfortunately far from over. Furthermore, he remains convinced that Gauvain and Thibault were not random victims, as the vitriol, disdain, and violence towards the deceased are hallmarks of a personal vendetta.

For now, Ywain decides he will try to find any information on their suspect that he can. Until then, he encourages WoL to continue honing their skills, especially since Foulques is still out there and his future plans/targets remain unknown.

Level 15

Ywain informs WoL of several updates regarding their investigation.

After gaining more testimony from Central Shroud residents, the Third Spears have confirmed the legitimacy of the accusations against Gauvain and Thibault. Along with accepting bribes from poachers and bandits, the two were also extorting money from vulnerable civilians. The news has become the talk of Gridania, and the Wailers are now working overtime to investigate similar corruption within their ranks.

Ywain also reveals that he’s discovered some surprising information on Foulques. According to guild records, the murderous lancer was actually once a member, but was convicted and imprisoned for stealing money from the guild’s personal coffers. He was previously thought to have been killed during the Seventh Umbral Calamity, as the chaos and destruction resulted in several casualties at the prison where he was being held.

While Foulques motives remain a mystery, Ywain remains convinced that Gauvain and Thibault must be connected to a bigger picture. He insists that their best option currently is to locate and question more of the pair’s associates; these individuals are not only potential partners in their crimes, but also potential targets on Foulques’ hit list.

Since the Third Spears are already underway with their internal investigation, Ywain says he’s been asked to begin the same process with the East Shroud’s Fourth Spears. He asks WoL to assist him and sets their meeting place at Josselin’s Spire.

Upon their arrival, Ywain advises WoL to be discreet with their questioning. Direct accusations of wrongdoing might cause their targets to panic, shut down, or retaliate, so they should start with the more casual topic of familiarity with the victims. He also suggests that WoL look for any unusual reactions and responses, as this could be a sign of someone trying to hide information.

Two of the Wailers WoL speaks to are calm and forthcoming. The first barely knew the victims’ names until news of the corruption came to light, while the second was familiar with them many years ago, but was extremely put off by their conceited personalities even back then.

However, a third wailer that WoL approaches - a Hyuran man - quickly raises several red flags. He becomes strangely nervous and defensive when simply asked if he ever knew Gauvain and Thibault, berates WoL for “harassing” him, and gives the unprompted opinion that the ongoing internal investigations are a waste of time and resources. This Wailer ends up leaving in a huff, stating he has a training exercise to lead.

When WoL tells Ywain of this strange behavior, he agrees that this man might be someone to keep an eye on. Since the man stormed off without identifying himself, they seek out a superior officer - the Fourth Spear Chief Sergeant - to help with identification.

Based on WoL’s account, the Lieutenant deduces that the suspicious individual is likely a third class Sergeant named Ashton. According to the Lieutenant, he was close friends with the victims during their guild training days.

When news of the murders broke, many of the Fourth Spears had expected Ashton would need time to grieve. But instead, the Sergeant seemed agitated by anyone offering their condolences, and he’d become unusually anxious and jumpy in the field, as though he thought something - or someone - was watching him.

Just as Ywain and WoL plan to question Ashton further when he returns, panicked pleas for help suddenly ring out from the forest. WoL, along with Ywain and the Lieutenant rush in the direction of the cries, only to find three Wailer privates, heavily injured but alive.

One of the recruits explains that while they were conducting their training exercise, a lancer they didn't know emerged from the woods and attacked them. She recalls that they were easily beaten despite their best efforts, and that Ashton, instead of defending them, was terrified and ran away screaming for his life, after which their assailant abandoned them to pursue the sergeant.

WoL and Ywain quickly realize this assailant must be Foulques. The Lieutenant states that he'll get medical help for the injured privates, encouraging Ywain and WoL to give chase before Ashton ends up like his former friends.

Using the private’s story and footprints left behind, WoL and Ywain track their targets back to the Central Shroud. They eventually find the two at Lifemend Stump behind the East Vein waterfall, where Foulques stands menacingly over an injured and frightened Ashton.

Ashton addresses Foulques by name, begging the rogue lancer for his life. He insists that “what happened” wasn’t his idea and that he was pressured to go along with it. But Foulques isn’t swayed in the slightest by this, claiming that his cowardice only makes him even more pathetic in his eyes.

Upon noticing their uninvited guests, Foulques shows great disdain for Ywain, despite Ywain having never met him before. He claims he’s not surprised that the guild master would waste time rescuing a “sniveling coward” and claims it's a disgrace that he would have WoL’s talent dedicated to such a task.

Foulques discloses that a pack of man-eating wolves have recently been using Lifemend Stump as their den, hence why he chased a wounded Ashton to this spot. The sergeant’s blood has drawn their attention, and both WoL and Ywain proceed to fight off the wolves in order to keep him from being killed (this would be a modified version of the canon level 15 instance).

Foulques, while annoyed that Ashton still lives, admits that he’s impressed by the display. He once again laments how WoL’s talents are wasted by the “Coward’s Guild”, and even offers them a place at his side if they finish off Ashton for him. Ywain, frustrated by Foulques’ reckless violence and insults towards the guild, demands that he surrender and explain himself.

Foulques shocks Ywain and WoL by revealing that he, Gauvain, Thibault, and Ashton were all co-conspirators in the guild robbery. Eventually, Foulques felt guilty for what they’d done and tried to convince the others to confess with him. But the others turned on him, successfully taking advantage of prejudice against Duskwights to pin the entire crime on him.

The rogue lancer concludes with a declaration that he won’t stop until his former “friends” and the rest of the Lancer’s Guild are destroyed, before swiftly fleeing the scene of the attempted murder.

Despite being clearly disturbed by what they’ve just learned, Ywain maintains his composure, expressing his gratitude for WoL’s help. He plans to bring Ashton in and turn him over to the proper authorities, and asks WoL to wait for him at the guild so that they can debrief these recent events.

Back at the Lancer’s Guild, Ywain confirms that Ashton has been arrested and is currently being interrogated. While it might take some time to confirm the legitimacy of Foulques’ story, his gut feeling is that it’s the truth, especially considering Ashton’s earlier pleas for mercy.

Ywain assures WoL that he will let them know of any updates, intending to show them a new technique (Piercing Talon) in the meantime.

Level 20

A solemn Ywain takes longer than usual to notice WoL’s presence. He states that he’s glad they’ve arrived, as Swethyna was looking to speak to them. He goes to fetch her, though he's clearly still distracted by his own thoughts.

Swethyna personally thanks WoL for helping to bring the recent crimes to light. She admits that it infuriates her that this corruption occurred under her watch, but that as captain of the Wailers, she must accept full responsibility for these failures, and vows to make amends to those affected.

She announces that Ashton has not only confessed to his involvement in the guild robbery, but also identified the true mastermind behind the plot - a high-ranking Wailer Lieutenant named Nicodeme. The imprisoned sergeant also admitted to helping Gauvain and Thibault in more recent crimes, which were also masterminded by Nicodeme.

She’s already contacted Nicodeme for a “strategy meeting" at the Guild/Wailing Barracks with the intention to confront him. As the two driving forces behind the investigation, she would greatly appreciate if WoL and Ywain would join her for it.

Ywain initially fails to respond, but eventually snaps out of it, apologizing and excusing himself to get some fresh air. A concerned Swethyna asks WoL to go after Ywain, stating that since the last time they were in the guild, the guild master has become increasingly depressed and distracted.

WoL finds Ywain at the dock of Westshore Pier, and he asks for their forgiveness for his current state. He admits to them that Foulques’ story has left him feeling an immense sense of shame and guilt, despite the fact that the situation occurred prior to him having any authority in the guild.

Ywain tells WoL that before becoming guildmaster, he was a highly accomplished Wood Wailer along with Landenel Peaumasquier, his dear friend. Landenel was regularly judged unfairly because his father was a known criminal, and one day, that pressure and ridicule led his friend to make a crucial mistake in the field. Not wanting to see his friend unfairly penalized for a momentary lapse of judgement, Ywain took the blame for the entire incident, and was dishonorably discharged from the Wailers as a result. It was Swethyna who learned of his innocence and promptly righted the situation, offering him an apology on the Wailers' behalf and the position of guild master.

While the decision nearly cost him everything, Ywain insists he never regretted standing up for his friend, and that he can’t imagine the intense pain and hurt Foulques must have felt when his “friends” betrayed him.

When Ywain asks WoL their opinion, they agree that while Foulques’ actions are reckless and dangerous, his anger and resentment are understandable. Ywain agrees with this sentiment; while he can’t condone the murders and Foulques’ endangerment of innocents, the guild was also at fault for all this; their desire for an easy and swift resolution failed not only Foulques, but the co-conspirators’ future victims as well. Regaining his conviction, the guild master is determined to not only stop Foulques’ spree, but also hold those who set the man down his destructive path accountable.

WoL and Ywain head back inside soon after, and both agree to Swethyna's request to join the confrontation. Swethyna, glad to see Ywain’s self-assurance restored, thanks them as the time for the meeting draws near.

Nicodeme arrives at the Barracks, finding Swethyna, Ywain, WoL, and several Wailers waiting for him. The lieutenant questions why someone like WoL is present, insisting that confidential Wailer intel should not be shared in the presence of "civilians".

Swethyna shocks him by quickly revealing the true reason behind the meeting, listing out the serious crimes he's been accused of and demanding an explanation from him.

Nicodeme adamantly denies any involvement in the robbery or any other crime, claiming that Ashton is falsely naming him in an effort to save himself from harsher consequences. However, in his haste to dismiss the accusations, he accidentally mentions the exact amount of gil stolen in the Guild robbery - a fact that was never publicly disclosed.

A frantic Nicodeme starts to show his true nature. He takes out his lance, throwing insults and threatening violence in a desperate effort to escape his collapsing house of cards. The other present Wailers initially reach for their weapons in response. But Swethyna requests that they back down, instead asking WoL to handle the situation. Ywain encourages WoL to take up the challenge, which they do.

At first, Nicodeme scoffs at this, mocking Swethyna and Ywain for being so overconfident in "an amateur". However, WoL successfully bests him in battle. (This would be an instanced conflict, replacing the two canon instances that occur at level 20).

A flabbergasted Nicodeme can't comprehend how he could lose to a novice. Swethyna, however, claims this outcome was inevitable; she insists that WoL embodies the true values that Mistalle founded the Lancer's Guild on - courage, adaptability, and open-mindedness - and calls Nicodeme out as a fraud, a coward, and a common criminal.

The disgraced lieutenant is arrested for plotting, committing, and covering up the past robbery, as well as for his more recent crimes. Ywain expresses how proud he is of WoL's victory and takes some solace in the fact that the co-conspirators can now do no more harm.

However, this victory is short lived, as an injured young lancer recruit rushes in, terrified and bringing bad news. The recruit claims that she'd been with Jillian - the receptionist - on an errand at the Adder's Nest. But on their way back, they were suddenly attacked by none other than Foulques, who abducted Jillian by threatening to kill the recruit if she didn't come quietly.

Ywain is clearly distressed by this turn of events, but rationalizes that panicking will do no one any good. He notes that Jillian was likely taken as collateral, meaning that there’s a good chance she’s still alive. He plans to organize a search effort, imploring WoL to keep their eyes and ears open for any sign of the two.

Level 25

Ywain informs WoL that the search for Jillian has unfortunately seen little success. However, a written missive - supposedly from Foulques - was found outside the guild just under a bell ago. Swethyna will join them shortly to share its contents.

Upon her arrival, Swethyna confirms that the missive lists Foulques demands. Unless they meet him out in the North Shroud's Alder Springs the following day and hand Nicodeme over to him, the vengeful lancer threatens to take Jillian's life. He also swears to subsequently continue to slaughter more lancers at random until those demands are met.

While she holds no sympathy for Nicodeme, Swethyna insists that allowing Foulques to be his judge, jury, and executioner would violate the former lieutenant's right to due process, something she can’t set a precedent for breaking. She also adds that even if they give Foulques what he wants, the man’s own words indicate that his hatred for the guild will not be so easily quelled, and he might kill Jillian and others out of hatred for the guild regardless.

Ywain previously suspected this would be Foulques’ next move, and reveals he’s come up with a plan to deal with this exact situation. He asks WoL to bring him several items from across various parts of the Black Shroud: black bat wings from the East Shroud, kedtrap leaves from the South Shroud, and balloon bomb ash from the North Shroud. He claims these items are integral to his plan, and that gathering them will also be a test of WoL’s progress with their lance work.

WoL must defeat several black bats, kedtraps, and balloons in order to progress (all are spawned at the locations marked by Ywain on WoL’s map). Upon their return, Ywain praises them for their swift work.

Ywain reveals that the items WoL retrieved are ingredients to concoct an alchemical potion - one which will allow him to temporarily take on the appearance of someone else. He then announces his plan to impersonate Nicodeme and trade himself in the exchange for Jillian.

Swethyna, shocked by this dangerous plan, adamantly expresses her disapproval; she warns that Foulques may lash out in retaliation, and that it’s far too risky for Ywain to confront him alone. But Ywain insists that as current guild master, he must take responsibility for what Foulques has become and save Jillian, even if it puts him at risk.

WoL proposes a compromise by offering to “deliver” the disguised Ywain to Foulques; this way, if the situation escalates, they will at least have numbers in their favor.

Swethyna backs WoL’s suggestion, insisting that she can also have a backup team waiting at Fallground Float. Though initially reluctant to put anyone else in danger, Ywain accepts these terms.

Ywain plans to have an alchemist concoct the potion within the day. He thanks them for being willing to risk their own safety to help Jillian, before telling WoL they'd both best prepare for the upcoming battle.

Level 30

With the hostage exchange swiftly approaching, Ywain states the transformative potion is ready and that they will rendezvous with Swethyna at Fallground Float before putting their plan into action. Before departing, he compliments WoL as one of the best lancers he’s ever trained, and that no matter what awaits them, he will follow their example and face Foulques and the guild’s past mistakes with courage.

Just as she promised, Swethyna has assembled a back-up team, and encourages Ywain and WoL to contact her by linkpearl should the exchange morph into a physical confrontation. As Ywain prepares to take the transforming potion, he tells WoL to let him know when they are ready to head out.

As WoL reaches the exchange spot with “Nicodeme”, Foulques arrives soon after with a restrained Jillian. She attempts to apologize to WoL for getting them into this situation, but is cut short by Foulques, who orders her to remain quiet.

Foulques seems rather satisfied that WoL is the one to bring him “Nicodeme”. Once again, he tries to encourage them join him instead,

However, Foulques becomes suspicious of “Nicodeme”; the rogue lancer claims that the disgraced lieutenant's prideful and arrogant nature would never allow him to be quiet in the face of his doom. He raises his weapon, fully suspecting that he's been set up.

With their plan compromised, Ywain has no choice but to reveal himself the potion antidote he brought along, much to Jillian’s shock and Foulques’ fury.

Ywain attempts to talk Foulques down from his anger, reminding him Jillian has nothing to do with what happened. He informs the rogue lancer that all those involved in the robbery and coverup have been identified and arrested, and that they all will be stripped of their titles and imprisoned for their numerous crimes.

Foulques claims this isn’t good enough, and that he wants to personally watch the life leave their eyes for what they did. He insists that if they won’t give them what he wants, he will simply take out the three of them a a final message to the guild to stay out of the way of his revenge.

An final instance similar to the original takes place, except Ywain is present and assists in subduing Foulques. (At one point, Ywain continues to fight Foulques 1v1, while WoL must free Jillian from her restraints before a fatal attack on her can be completed, after which she will run off to get help. WoL will then rejoin Ywain against Foulques until the fight’s conclusion).

As the instance ends and Foulques seems to be reaching his limit, Jillian returns, having managed to reach Fallground Float to get help. She is joined by Swethyna and her backup team.

Foulques insists WoL and Ywain finish him off, but Ywain refuses, insisting that more death won’t solve this problem.

Ywain proceeds to apologize to Foulques for the injustice and mistreatment he faced years ago. He claims that the guild failed not only him, but all of Gridania and the other victims of the co-conspirators, and that the prejudice he was subjected to betrayed the very ideals the guild was founded on.

Ywain also states that while he can’t change what happened, he - as current guild master - takes full responsibility to right the wrongs of his predecessors. He insists that Foulques, as one of the victims of those wrongs, deserves to see that justice come to fruition.

Foulques seems genuinely taken aback by Ywain’s declaration, but his only response is a curt (yet also sad) laugh. He claims to regret nothing, and that he has no intention of returning to a dank cell. But he does admits that perhaps WoL and Ywain are perhaps not the cowards he’d assumed they were.

Foulques intentionally steps backwards over the cliff (unlike the canon original, where he falls in panic/by accident). WoL and Ywain rush to try and stop him, but by the time they reach the edge, he’s already disappeared into the misty chasm below.

As the Wailers secure the scene, Jillian thanks WoL for saving her life. Ywain also thanks them, insisting they’ve clearly mastered the art of lance work. But while he’s glad that Jillian is safe, he regrets that he was unable to get through to Foulques in the end.

However, Swethyna notes that while she can’t be sure, it’s possible that Foulques might have survived the fall. Her team have yet to locate a body, and while she must hold him accountable for the murders, she hopes that Foulques - wherever he is - will take Ywain’s words to heart and let go of his hatred for his own sake.

Ywain informs WoL that he will accompany Jillian to the healers to have her checked over for injuries. He encourages WoL to take their time in meeting with him back at the guild, as they are doubtlessly tired from the fight and shouldn’t overexert themselves.

Back at the guild, Ywain once again expresses his gratitude to WoL, and admits that he’s not sure he can teach them much more. He claims that while WoL was technically his student, he learned just as much from them, including how courage to admit to past failures is just as important as courage in battle.

Ywain insists he will not allow the guild to return to disregarding its shortcomings, as doing so will only delay the necessary steps to make amends. He concludes with his hopes to create a guild that even Foulques could be proud of. Lastly, he agrees to teach WoL one more technique (Lance Charge) and encourages WoL to remember to visit once they move on.

~~~

And that's a wrap! Thanks so much for reading!

If you enjoyed my writing, please consider sharing and leaving feedback!

[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

Writing Log Aug. 23

This seems like a fun and neat habit that the more responsible writblrs I follow have. So let's give it a shot.

Word Count Roundup

Apophenia Rewrite Attempt #1: 10,521 (like 3k more than the original! :O)

Phagophobia Rough Draft: 39,714

The Primrose Path: 7,291

Target(s) of the Week

Finish sketching out final chapters of Phagophobia

Write a little bit of Primrose Path. Something. Anything. It's been too long.

Some spoiler-y rambles for Apophenia/Phagophobia under the cut

What I naively believed would be just a little polishing or adding a few scenes to Apophenia has completely changed the entire story. Oops. This isn't a bad thing, mind you. It just means there was a lot more work to be done than anticipated.

Renato's motivations have been the biggest driving force behind all the changes. Ever since he stopped just wanting to drink Isaac dry I've had to come up with a lot more complex worldbuilding and personal history. His cruelty towards Isaac in the rewrite comes from his job as one of the Unseen Hand's thugs. As does his guilt when he realizes he grabbed the wrong agent.

This revelation is rapidly setting in on Part 5 of Apophenia. After escaping from the shapechanging ouroboros, the boys have holed up in a motel room while Renato calls for backup. Which is where my outline went careening off course yet again. Rather than let Isaac go for various reasons (one of them being so Apophenia can link up with what I'd written for Phagophobia), Renato has decided to hold on to Agent Soto. It looks like they'll be going on a messed up roadtrip a lot sooner than expected.

Which means most of Phagophobia is moot. I mean, the general shape of some events will remain (Kinslayer showing up to bail Renato out, Renato going to Dorian for help, etc.). But pretty much everything is going to have to be redone. Again, not a bad thing. I can already see a lot of ways this will improve the story.

In light of all this, I've gone ahead and replaced the next chapter or two of Phagophobia with simple explanations in brackets. I simply don't want to spend time on writing out scenes I don't have clear motivations for. However, I am writing the final scenes of the story. While these may completely change in the future as well, I think the general concept is solid enough to give it a try. Anyway, I'd like to at least say I brought Phagophobia to some type of conclusion before continuing with any more rewriting.

Or outlining rather. Which, if you couldn't tell, I'm terrible at.

Anyway, have the first tidbit of that final scene.

They took him out to the woods to die. Isaac wondered if it was meant as an extra layer of cruelty or just the most practical place to murder somebody. Maybe a little of both, he decided. Zamora sat with him in the backseat, gun in her lap, while Quinn drove. The sound system remained off. Nobody talked, not even to gloat. Isaac wished he could come up with some last words. An epitaph that would haunt them forever. Empty fantasies, of course. At best, the enforcers believed they were doing the Coven, the world, a favor. At worst, they just didn’t care. No matter where their reasoning fell, he was trash to them. Something to be buried and never thought about again. So, he stared out the window at the dark trees flashing by and didn’t waste his final breaths. “Seatbelt.” Isaac started at the voice. His eyes darted to Zamora, then Quinn, but neither were looking at him. He tugged on the strap across his chest. The connection point. Both secure.

[stygiusfic]

hi styg !! i'm really curious about 14 and 15 for those end-of-year writer asks if you feel like talking about it 💖 !!

hi friend!! <333 thank you for the ask!!

14. a fic you didn't expect to write

I haven't posted this yet, but the question doesn't say it has to be posted, so. Inspired by my re-read of The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells this summer, I've written 40k words (and counting) of a Critical Role C2 fanfic trapping one of my favorite characters of the campaign, Essek, on the island that steals people's memories away and makes them slaves to the false god in its volcano. (Currently titled The Island of New Beginnings; I have a CR sideblog @bug4bread-sideblog which is where I'll share when it's done.)

It's not Hades, which is all I've posted in the past couple of years, and it doesn't mean my Hades days are over, but man, I'm having a blast playing in this new sandbox. It's also an experiment: I've only mentioned it to a few friends, and plan to start posting only after I finish. I want to see if multi-chapter is easier for me that way. So, unexpected but good!

15. something you learned this year

Feels like I learned a lot! Or gained more confidence in my process; probably a mix of both. (Under a cut because it got long!)

Overall, in the long long years I've been writing, I've written mostly short stories or one-shots, and I've always struggled the most with finishing the initial draft. There's always that perfectionist urge in me that wants to get all the themes and plot elements and character arcs in the right arrangement from the get-go, and if I'm feeling dissatisfied with my direction it's hard to stay motivated.

This year, maybe because I've recently wrangled with longer works, I feel like I'm building some endurance in that regard! You can get lucky with a one-shot and push it out in a day, and get a first draft that’s near perfect, but that’s just not possible with multichapter, for me, and I’ve finally started to accept that.

It's still hard to let go of the urge to polish right away, but I feel like I understand now more deeply that my process relies on multiple passes to get where I want to go. Especially for 20k+ stories, this is what I'm learning to accept as the process:

0.5 — Outline: In-depth outline of the whole story with its ups and downs, with a list of scenes too, and I'll usually outline each scene before I write it. (Who's in the scene? What do they want? How are the things they want out of the scene opposed?). The overall outline will be thin in the second half because I still don't know enough about my story, I'll find out what I'm actually getting at when I start writing it; I’ve learned that This is fine.

1. — First draft: Sometimes inspiration works miracles but waiting for a miracle is not a process. I really feel like this year I got a step closer to accepting that my first draft can and should be rough. It's a draft. It's sinking in that, when I look at my artist friends' progress videos, of course I don't expect them to make a perfect painting without sketching basic shapes first, so why do I keep expecting the writing equivalent of that from myself?

1.5 — Heart Notes list: This has been the game changer in 2022. It's a list of things to fix in a later draft, and/or think about on my next walk. When I'm drafting and dissatisfied with something (why would this character do this? why does this pacing fall flat? etc) or introducing some new element halfway through that I will need to rewrite earlier scenes to set up, I just put it on this list. And I don't think about it anymore for now. I used to compile these notes after the first draft was done, but those issues weigh on me enough that they would often discourage me and keep me from finishing the first draft at all. The list lets me mentally set down the weight of that problem, knowing I will address it later, so I can keep drafting now.

2. — Second draft: My beloved. Here is where I will do the larger rewrites based on my heart notes and rearrange stuff how I need it to be and just generally feel terribly relieved the first draft is behind me.

3. — Final draft: Just tweak some sentence-level stuff to make it read better and clearer, and we're done. (This is what I have always foolishly hoped the second draft would be, which meant I needed the first draft to be close to perfect already... and that’s how I got stuck.)

I still have a long way to go in terms of learning to let the first draft suck as much as it needs to, but I've been feeling a lot more secure in the idea that sucking is part of the process. I struggled a lot with writing in the first half of 2022. It's been getting better, and I think giving myself more leeway to suck at first and then seeing it work out in the end has helped a lot.

I hope 2023 is a good writing year for you (and in general too)!!

[merionettes]

Oh man just got caught up with rubicon and I’m on the edge of my seat! I know nothing about figure skating but the way you write it, the routines, the press, the bureaucracy, it just feels like this really rich and tangible world. Also, I saw in your notes from the last chapter that you’re taking time to do rough draft work, and I wanted to ask! What does writing a fic usually look like for you? How do you outline, draft, revise, post? I love hearing about my fave authors’ writing processes. :)

thank you SO much, anon, for this invitation to open mouth dump brain about How Writing. i love to talk about how writing.

this is gonna get very long, so here's the cut. [eta: jesus CHRIST it's long. you've been warned.]

so here is how it normally goes. for shorter fic, i start out with some kind of image or dialogue – for kindling it was the anecdote about sylvain and his childhood horse, for aubade it was claude (ha) in the windowsill – and first write until i get there and then write until the end. polish and it's done. it sounds quick and easy and in some cases it is, but that's just because like—if it's not, if it doesn't work itself out, then it doesn't get written, i don't make it to the end. sometimes i'll have turned over an idea for months or even years (recapitulation) before the actual fic gets written. my subconscious doing all the heavy lifting for me!

and sometimes i will THINK it's going to be a short fic ~shaped as i go~ and it turns out to be. long. (notably: green is the color.) for long fic, i don't exactly outline but i do make a list of things i know that happen in the fic. this might be detailed and it might not be. for gone to ground there was a lot of detail about the dramatic tent betrayal-murder and a lot of detail about sylvain's injury/delirium/big go-on-without-me scene and then a generic line item like, wilderness adventures! for when the earth stands still it was almost all worldbuilding, like what are the activities and feasts and would sylvain and felix play along or not. then i start at the beginning and write toward the first thing on the list. i may or may not get there before i jump ahead and start writing scenes in the middle or at the end. (meanwhile, the list is expanding as i figure out how the story goes and what needs to happen!) from there on it's a very haphazard process of writing whatever speaks to me at the time and structuring the story as i write bits of scenes here and there, until i have pretty much all the scenes in place and then until they're filled in. which is incidentally how the editing and revising happens, just a constant process of reread-tweak-tweak-tweak-polish as i write. rocks constantly tumbling in a stream etc.

as you can see i am big on the process of discovery lol. there are pros and cons to this. obviously if you get stuck you can get REALLY stuck. you can end up with pacing or relationship build or character arc totally out of whack. (i can name several instances where i feel that's happened to me!) but for me personally i've found i write better if i don't force myself to figure out everything in advance. to return to wtess and the worldbuilding – like, i did come up with a list of days (gifts/good works/hunt and horses/etc), but i didn't list what sylvain and felix would DO on every single one. so i knew they would ride instead of hunt, i knew felix would give sylvain a cloak and i knew why, but i did not know a lot of other things! i did not know about the play! this allows for not only the Joy of Discovery but also the freedom to mold and rework on the fly which i find much easier than trying to get my brain to understand "yeah that detailed plan you absorbed? you have to completely forget about it now because big revision."

anyway at this point when a full draft is done... i should go back and give it a thorough reading as a coherent whole and revise and edit accordingly but historically uh. i have not done that. historically i cannot stand to spend one more minute working on it and just. post. it's a weakness! sometimes this is fine, sometimes this is riddled with typos but otherwise fine, and sometimes i will spend MONTHS kicking myself afterward. lol.  

ok having said all 650 words of that lmao: rubicon is different. it had to be different because of the scale. and i knew the scale was going to be big from the beginning, three weeks into my fire emblem experience, although i didn't know… how big. [cut meandering origin story which is a different story for a different post lol.] i did know that if i tried my usual "idk write a bunch of scenes out of order until it's done" method i would simply die. so i tried something new. 

which was: made myself write the whole thing straight through in order, something between and outline and a rough draft. more than an outline because i had to try and actually make ideas work rather than just leave them as a bullet point and assume they would. less than a rough draft because uh otherwise i would drown. so like, some fully drafted scenes, some scene skeletons with just basic beats and dialogue excerpts, some [insert X here i guess??] placeholders. the goal was not good prose, the goal was to get to the end, ideally as fast as possibly so i couldn't perceive what i was doing and get freaked out about it. it worked! i generated a whole skeleton draft!

(li shang voice) Then The Real Work Begins. 

what i've had to do since is take that skeleton (storyboard?) section by section (usually 10-15k, but purely dependent on vibes) and flesh it out into an actual workable draft. that's what i mean when i say rough draft work—i don't have a better way to put it. the fleshing out process is similar to how i generally write, a little here a little there, not necessarily in order, until it's done. then i put it aside and go on to the next section. i may make some intermediary edits based on how the story is developing up ahead, but for the most part i don't return to a section until i'm ready to get it line edited (a new thing!! big step for me!!!), at which point i polish it up til i'm more or less happy, send it off, and then make any final feedback-based edits while preparing to post each chapter.

so far, SO FAR, the fleshing out stage is where i've caught all the really big revisions, like, oh wait actually NOTHING about this idea works, you need to completely rewrite this scene. you need to add a scene. you need to replace this conversation with a different one. you need to totally reconsider your plan for the resolution of this arc 30k down the road.

for the first act, i barely had to do anything structural. like, there was plenty to fill in, but nothing to really rip up and change. for everything after that……. hahaha. when i say this fic is kicking my ass, when i say i'm taking a break to focus on rough draft, that's what i mean. the deeper in i get, the more changes i have to make. which is, like, obvious! it's hard tho. atm i have the next 30k all fleshed out and ready to be edited/proofread. there is unfortunately probably another 50k to go before the end. that's what i'm deep in right now. i hope it's not that much! i hope i'm wrong! 

as for whens/whys of posting, i had dreams about finishing a whole complete full draft and then doing a real deep dive edit/revision and THEN posting, because i wanted it to be good and i didn't want to have regrets, and eventually i faced reality which is that i would never get out of the swamp if i didn't have some sort of externally imposed form of accountability. so when i'd gotten the whole first act drafted AND edited AND proofread—that was when i started posting. in retrospect, should have waited until rl circumstances were more accommodating, could have avoided that initial three month gap. but it's worked since then!

the biggest consequence is that of course it is going to be longer than it needs to be, and i'm sure i will look back and see significant cuts that could have been made. however. there is a point at which you have to accept this is fanfiction you are writing for your own personal satisfaction and if it's not as good as it could be—it's not as good as it could be. it's not the end of the world.

anyone who read this whole thing gets a bye to the grand prix of reading self-involved process posts final. +3 GOE every element. sorry/thank you/i love you.

[reneesbooks]

2, 13, 32

ask game here

i have been hoarding this ask like some kind of goblin. here are the answers you seek

2. Are you a pantser or a plotter?

I would consider myself a plantser. See below.

13. Describe your writing process from idea to polished.

When I start on a wip, I usually have a vague idea of where the story is going and that's kind of it. Then I use whatever I come up with to build out a storyline and create a rough outline of the main events. From there I'll edit and riff and play with it until I feel like it's done. For example, my current main wip is hurts, doesn't it? which started from the vague idea of an archer and a girl who throws knives and paints going up against Big Bad Government (divergent had just come out and i was 13 so that was all the rage back then). I wrote whatever came to me, then went back and figured out the main plot points, pared down to what made more sense, cut out unnecessary bits or pieces that didn't make sense, and worked on fleshing out the characters and world. This novel has gone through a lot of drafts in the course of this process and it's changed a LOT in the years since I started writing it. Once I get it to a continuous finished draft (instead of the frankendraft of scenes from various parts of the book that it currently it), I'll put out a call for betas :)

Either way the only ones in charge of my writing process are the annoying little people who live in my head and slap me awake at 3 am because they wouldn't get sugar in their coffee, now write the scene correctly-

32. Most difficult character to write

this fluctuates heavily for me as I tend to hyperfocus on individual characters and flesh them out and then move on to another, so each character has different levels of difficulty as I move through my drafts. i'm avoiding the question tho it's Derrek. it will always be Derrek. he's Kat's ex-partner and Will's ex-best friend. I hate him. he is integral to the plot. I want him dead. his death would change everything in a bad way. he is the character I know most intimately. he is the character I wish I knew nothing about. he is smug and manipulative and charming and cruel and every time I have to write a scene with him in it there is a little voice in the back of my head screaming to kill him off that I have to beat back with a stick bc he's necessary, dammit, but he just sucks SO BAD. disgusting little man. should be dumped in the river.

thank you for the ask <3