#so unlike me to write mcd but here we are

[wyvernquill]

I only know about Anastasia through the wiki plot summary, but the parts you've posted so far of the Sandman Anastasia AU makes me excited to read more.

Read the part with the Hob and Dream interaction on the staircase and. The Angst. The potential future angst when Dream finds out what reward Hob actually asked for (assuming that's in line with the movie?) and he runs through this exact conversation in his head again! With those last words he spoke to Hob playing on repeat.

An evil part of me wants Hob to die in his efforts tying up loose ends (but succeeding) and for Dream to find out everything when it's too late to change anything. Maybe shortly after Hob's death. Or perhaps he isolates himself from the world and shows up at the inn 100 years later only to then find out the truth. Dream can never make amends and never gets closure. He settles further inside himself, putting up more walls between himself and the world. Or this is his tipping point.

Maybe Hob leaves behind a letter for him, apologizing to Dream asking not for his forgiveness but wishing him well and hoping that everything is good now that he's back to who he was. That he's happy.

Or, Hob does succeed and survive, and lives out his full life. But still dies before the 100th year meeting, that Dream shows up to.

Don't know the extent of Dream's power in the AU, if there's the Dreaming, if he can feel when a dreamer dies or not enter the Dreaming anymore. Bc in either scenario, what if he decides to never contact Hob again, but he feels Hob's death (bc he can't help but to keep tabs on Hob, despite everything), when, since Hob got his reward, !shouldn't! happen? And that's how he finds out.

BUT while that sounds tempting I'd really rather have the Angst train and the Happy Ending.

Thanks for reading my ramblings!

(Anastasia AU masterpost here!)

Thank YOU for sharing them, I enjoyed them very much! :3c

I'm very dedicated to happy endings, so don't worry, there'll be no great final tragedy... HOWEVER, I did feel tempted to write a sad little something, so I'll juuuuuust put that under the cut here....

(This is NOT CANON to the Anastasia AU - think of it as a hypothetical Bad Ending nightmare at most! Also, warning for major character death, of course.)

(I guess I'll still tag @10moonymhrivertam @martybaker @globglobglobglobob @anonymoustitans and @sunshines-fabulous-legs even though it's not technically canon to the AU...)

A hundred years pass in a blink.

Dream is busy, oh yes, very busy indeed, gathering his surviving dreams and nightmares together, carving out a tiny, miserable approximation of what was once his realm to house them. The New Dreaming is not what it once was, but it is enough - and where it is not, he works harder.

(If he is busy, then there is no opportunity to think of a time where he was once humans, with human needs and wants and loves. He can banish those memories from his mind, push them under layers and layers of plans and tasks, and feel his heart grow only ever so slightly heavier with it.)

His siblings are as busy as him, all trying desperately to recover scraps of their former strength. Sometimes, he helps them if he can, other times he is simply there to lean on and to hold them if he can't.

In those hundred years, Destiny wept - once, only once, but that was already more than Dream should ever have thought possible - in front of him, Desire screamed and howled and heaped verbal abuse on him in their frustration far more frequently, and Delirium clung to him as her physical form wavered and scattered like iridescent oil on a puddle. She slipped through his arms whenever he tried to hold her in return, and that was, perhaps, the worst of it.

No word of Destruction, Despair quiet and reclusive... and Death oh so tired. The humans now walk to The Sunless Lands without her, often refuse her hand if she tries. Dream can tell how it breaks her heart, and how carefully she hides it for her siblings' comfort.

It's a difficult century for them all.

But some things get better.

They heal. They grow. They recover. Humanity loses grip of their hatred, forgets about what they once did to the Endless, or why. It will take many more centuries, perhaps millenia, to undo all the harm that has been done - but be undone it will, that much is clear even after just one hundred years.

They have hope, still and always; and they have each other, and the truly endless love they each feel for their siblings. Dream is no longer lost and alone in the cold and the snow, as he once was as Murphy. He belongs now, something he has always yearned for, and it is a precious thing indeed.

But still he-

Sometimes, he-

(Hob Gadling and his smiles, Hob Gadling and the warmth of his hands, Hob Gadling and his ever-laughing mouth.

Hob Gadling asking 'would you come' in a voice too small and afraid for him, and the tears in his eyes at Dream's response.

He remembers these, sometimes, and wishes he didn't.)

A hundred years have passed by, and something in Dream has... it has softened. Gentled. Murphy, that frightened, furious, heartbroken man, or what remains of him in Dream of the Endless - he has healed, too.

He is beginning to regret his harsh refusal, now.

Is beginning to miss Hob.

Is considering, perhaps, to forgive him, even.

(The Corinthian has never bothered Dream again, has never wreaked havoc among the humans. Hob has succeeded admirably in his task, it seems... and perhaps this is something Dream should have recalled, in his aching fury: people are almost always better than one thinks they are.)

The hundredth anniversary of their final meeting on the stairs draws near...

And on an impulse, on the centennial of that fateful day, Dream calls Matthew to him, and slips out of their safe haven in silence, telling none of his siblings where he is bound - though he suspects, from Destiny quietly watching him leave, that one at least knows.

He treads carefully in the Waking, in the human world, but few care to notice him. The Endless are a fairytale, a horror story. A hundred years have washed the truth out of the tale, and there is none of that sharp suspicion in the humans' eyes he recalls from his journey as Murphy.

He is in London in an instant, at the park where he used to feed the birds and steal purses from passersby. Down the street then, to the White Horse inn, and-

And-

The White Horse is gone.

A ruin stands in its place, closed down. The merciless grind of the gears of time have not spared it, clearly.

Dream is, briefly, at a loss. They have not specified another meeting place, and with his diminished powers it is... difficult, even for one such as him, to find a singular human - only more so if that human is immortal, and surely working hard to remain undetected. How will he-

"So you have come," says a voice behind him, and for a moment Dream's not-heart is beating in his throat, and he turns, relief sparking in his chest, the name Hob on his lips like a sigh...

"...sir," Gilbert finishes, standing there alone, and Dream's heart plummets again.

(Gilbert had taken his leave, after the whole affair, had begged permission to remain in the Waking - and Dream had granted it. Gilbert had been such a painful reminder of a time when he's been both at his most miserable and at his happiest, and sending him away had been... easier, then.)

"Fiddler's Green." Dream inclines his head. "My greetings."

"Gilbert. If it please your majesty." Gilbert corrects quietly. He looks sombre, and tired, a far cry from the curiosity and easy cheer of their journey oh-so-long ago. "May I beg a moment of your time?"

"...I was intending to meet..." Dream gestures vaguely to the White Horse, unable to say the words. Say the name. "Do you, perhaps, know..."

"Yes. Yes, sir. I know who you have come to meet." Gilbert blinks a few times, very quickly. Looks down at his hands followed over the tip of his cane. "Please, follow me. I know a place where we can sit and talk."

Dream hesitates, glancing back at the ruins of the inn - what if Hob should arrive in the meantime? - but then reminds himself how close Hob and Gilbert were, once upon a time. Gilbert would not lead him away if not for good reasons.

Quietly, nervously, he follows.

Gilbert brings him to another pub a few streets down, named The New Inn. A sweet, pleasant place, gentle and warm the way Fiddler's Green once used to be - he spends much time here, Dream can instantly tell.

(His eyes search each table for a familiar face. But he finds none.)

They sit, and Gilbert folds his hands, wrings them nervously, before finally pulling a well-aged envelope from his coat.

"This was given to me many years ago by... our mutual friend." He begins, haltingly. There is something achingly sad, something hushed, in the exhausted slump of his shoulders. "He begged a promise from me, that I would be here, on this day, every hundred years, and give it to you, my Lord, if you ever... he instructed me, in confidence, not to suspect you 'ere half a millennium has passed - you have rather defied his pessimistic expectations."

A smile, then... but tears, the dewdrops on flowers in the morning, gathering in the corners of Gilbert's eyes. Fear gripped Dream's heart, and would not release it.

"Dear Robert. And yet, he never doubted that you would, one day, appear. Such faith he had in you."

"Had?" Dream chokes around the word. On his shoulder, Matthew grows uneasy.

"Read the letter, my Lord." Gilbert's smile is gentle as well as sad, as he pushes the letter across the table. "And you shall know all he wanted you to know."

There is a name on the envelope, Dream of the Endless written in Hob's scrawl, still familiar after so many years - and then, (Murphy) underneath it.

Dream dreads what he will find in this letter - but he opens it with shaking fingers, and begins to read, nonetheless.

My Honoured Lord, Dream of the Endless etc. etc. (My dearest Murphy)

It is my fond and foolish hope that this letter finds you well, and that you have since grown to forgive poor, lowly Hob Gadling - who was ever your friend, if you can bring yourself to believe it. (Perhaps you cannot. I wouldn't blame you. But know that, from the moment I first saw you, I cared for you, and never wished you harm. Hate me for the deception, hate me for my greed - but do not think I did not truly love you. Because I did, Murphy, Dream, whichever name you now prefer. I did.) I've asked Gil to hand you this letter if you ever come to the White Horse. Please don't be cross with him, he fought me on this every step of the way, and even now I am not sure if I have sworn him to secrecy firmly enough. If he's blabbed to you, be happy, his loyalty to you has won out over my pleas, which I do not blame him for at all - and if he hasn't. Well. Thank him for me, will you? He's been a true friend to me, always, and I... appreciate his fealty. Now, the most important thing I have to tell you: I refused your sister's reward. Yes, I know. I'm a fool. After all I did for it, too. But you were right. I didn't deserve it, I was a greedy, manipulative bastard... ...and I was in love with you, of course, and couldn't bear the thought of spending an immortal life being hated by you. (Forgive her, too, for not telling you, please. All on my request, not her fault.) I don't know why exactly I refused, in the end. I was trying to prove something, maybe. To me, to you - it hardly matters. Not anymore, at least. I'm going to see if I can't give our pursuer hell, and that'll likely... not end well for me. But even if I am fortunate enough to survive that encounter, I doubt I'll live to the ripe old age of 130-something, so... I'm sorry I couldn't make our appointment, my friend, my love - and after I was the one to suggest it, too. Unfair of me, perhaps... but at least you'll have this letter, and all I wanted still to tell you. If I died, if I am dead now, you must know that I died happy. You are with your family again, you've returned to your true self, and I could help you achieve that. This time, I could help, and I'm so glad. I love you. Foolish, of a mortal, to love an Endless, but there it is. I loved you as Murphy, and I love you still as Dream, and I am happy to know the one I love safe and free and - I hope, I pray - content and living a life of joy. Be well, Dream of the Endless. Think of me, now and then, if you can bear it - and recall, perhaps, that even low and greedy humans may show themselves to be better than you'd think at first. I love you. Forgive me. And farewell forever. Yours, always, always yours, Hob Gadling

A wet splash as a tear drops onto the letter, old ink running slightly under it; and then another, before Gilbert's gentle hands pull the paper to safety.

Dream sits there for hours, crying like a child, like a human, mourning, regretting...

...and admitting, at last, that he loved Hob, and loves Hob still, even now, when it is far too late for love to change any of it.

He would turn back time if he could, beg his father on his knees for the chance to undo this - but he does not have power enough to even ask, and knows he will be denied either way. He has lost Hob; has lost him to anger and jilted feelings, to secrets and unspoken words. To the Corinthian's dagger, or the tooth of time.

He has lost Hob, and his heart with him.

Gilbert and Matthew bring him home, eventually. His siblings comfort him silently, aching in empathy of his grief.

A century has passed, and soon another will start, and pass, and be gone, over and over and over. Life is rich, and goes on forevermore... only without one never-truly-immortal in it.

And Dream will forever remember Hob Gadling, will think of him at every judgement he passes over a mortal life, at every burst of fury in his chest. Will think of kindness, of forgiveness, of friendship.

And, forever and always, of love.

[jackie-mae]

with your outfit drawings for the mystreet character. im so curious about with vylad having outfits for s2-s6, if you want can you expand upon on that?

I WOULD LOVE TOO >:3c

Long and Short of it is I've always hated how Vylad was there in Mystreet S1, PDH S1 and then he just... dropped off the face of the earth after that. It always irked me a bit when it would show Garroth and Zane having brotherly bonding moments (and trauma) and always having the thought of (Man wasn't there a third brother in all this?) there in the back of my mind.

I'm now going to do some little bullet points of my Vylads role in S2-6 but this is a great time to mention I've never seen past S4 so I'm running on Wiki Lore and the gospel of AO3 and @catzgam3rz; who collaborates (Read: Infodump and Ramble) on a hypothetical rewrite with me so it gets vague and murky for the later seasons.

S1:

Basically the same as canon (as in S1 is kinda just slice of life) but instead of Vylad just travelling around the world he is an off the grid hunter that wanders the wilderness all the time (The freak)

This is based on my very fuzzy memories of MCD Vylad always kinda just being in trees as he watched Lady Aphmau in the early seasons so I just put Mystreet Vylad in trees for fun this time

Has a vaguely similar relationship to his brothers as in MCD. in the sense it's better with Garroth and more strained with Zane

S2:

Goes to LLP with the rest of the main cast (which consists of the 11 big designs I made) because season 2 is not when you should be writing out characters Jessica

He wears little rainboots and unlike Laurance (Who FYI wears cowboy boots a majority of the time) the rest of the cast did not get him into flip flops before he went trudging into the ocean (again a freak)

I like to imagine that if any drama is going on in the story you could always see him floating around on an inner tube off in the distance

S3:

Again back to slice of life so he does a lot of shenanigans with the cast here

This is the season where the shadow knights feature but for the life of me, I cannot remember if Vylad was officially a part of them or not (And his Wikia is not even a paragraph~) But if it turns out he was there'll probably be more shenanigans around that.

He ends up leaving mid-season (Fall ish?) to go on a hunting expedition

S4:

Oh hey look Vylad is back because we don't believe in writing characters off with little rhyme or reason Jessica

Vylads hunting expedition ends up being in the same area as the lodge. and we all know nothing bad happens there!

there's now a little ski village downhill from the lodge which is where Vylad is staying at seasons start. He's good friends with a lot of the people there.

He's a werewolf now... Don't worry about it!

Oh, what's this? Is that relationship building between him and Zane on the horizon? Well, that won't hurt at all, will it?

AY:

A not-alone buddy comforts his not-alone buddy (I do not know much about Aphmau's Year but know it's short so that's all I got)

S5:

As he is a part of the Lodge crew he gets to go to Starlight!

Possibly is involved in a certain shenanigan with his brothers I'll be posting a comic about that in a few days

Get's lost constantly. Figures Starlight being an island means he can't really get lost since he'll hit ocean eventually and refuses to acknowledge how big said island is.

Doesn't float around like in S2 but you can still find him wading on the shore in his boots

being a hyperattentive freak, he get's some bad vibes from the island sooner than most

S6

Gonna be honest, me and Catz have not watched all of When angels fall but are planning to soon so I'll just leave you with the fun fact that all of my season 6 designs are supposed echo my MCD's designs for the characters (Since S6 is when it was decided hey maybe Diaries is really important here now)

TLDR: Vylad was shafted in Mystreet so I'm fix it

[chronic-reveries]

MCD Headcanons:

-Laurance and garroth are 100% Malechi and Levins father figures

This isn’t even a HC imo but malechi is laurances adopted son and levin is garroths and that’s all there is to it honestly

- Travis is flirty completely by accident.

Due to his isolation from the village for their own safety, Travis had to find other ways to spend his time. Eventually, he started reading various books from his mother’s old collection as well as from various townspeople and the occasional abandoned ship. Most of these novels just so happened to be romance novels and as such he began to start speaking like the dialogue in the books he read. He obviously knew the townspeople didn’t speak like his books had, but they were the closest thing he had to an outside perspective given the cursed seas and the demon warlock kept him there. So it’s no surprise that he used the same flirtatious personality he had developed upon meeting both Aphmau and Laurance. Later along the line he just kept it up because it was funny to him. (Later season 2 goes against this and I’m well aware but I just try to think the best of Travis)

-the jury of the nine willingly surrender themselves to memory suppression magicks

In s2 ep34 Katelyn says “he wasn’t even supposed to keep his memory of Abby, but he did and look where that got him.” I’d like to think that this implies that most jury members allowed Zane to use memory suppression on them that also makes it so members aren’t emotional so that they aren’t vulnerable. Unlike most members Jeffory did not undergo this process as it’s not entirely mandatory but Zane likely strongly suggested it. However because he knew Abby would be utterly alone without him, Jeffory refused to allow his memories to be repressed. Other than Jeffory, all other jury members did undergo this process but it only lasts as long as they are a member of the jury. Hence why Katelyn slowly became more and more emotional post losing her position.

- Janus the Silver Death uses They/He pronouns

When Katelyn talks about Janus in season 2 episode 79 she fluctuates between they and he pronouns. There was a fluctuation between the two and I’m not sure if it was on purpose or not as like a writers choice, but it happened enough times for me to conclude that Janus uses They/He pronouns <3

-Katelyn and Ivy dated

In season 2 episode 91 ivy says “did you miss me love?” And while she says things like darling to anyone using specifically love stuck out?? Idk? But if they dated it was definitely for a short span and with a messy breakup that was likely caused by ivy taking things way too far. She also further added onto this behavior post breakup.

-Lo is the descendant of Kul’Zak or Menphia

I know Lucinda looks a lot like Menphia in a lot of ways, but honestly with Lo accompanying Aph to the Tu’Lah region and it all lining up the way it did it makes sense? Honestly though I don’t feel like he aligns with her title of the fury which is where kul’zak comes in. His title was that of the wanderer and honestly I could fully see Lo meeting that title, but that’s just about all I can say for him. Maybe there was more we never knew? Maybe his defense of his girls was representative of his “fury” but honestly it’s up for debate. I definitely believe he was tied to one of the relics though in some way shape or form.

Finished my MCD rewatch and heres everything I made HC’s for from season 1 to season 3 🎀

(I don’t make these often but I wanted to write these ones down)

[forabeatofadrum]

El WooWoo! And a happy WIP Tuesday to you too, @wellbelesbian! And thanks @aroace-genderfluid-sheep for the Wednesday tag.

This is the situation in my writing life:

My brain: Girl, you do NOT need a new WIP. You have plenty. One of them has a deadline. MCD feels neglected. Me @ my brain: Yes, but.... what if.... Tears of the Kingdom inspired Snowbaz reunion fic?

Anyway, here's some of that. Baz's POV, because I can. It got a bit long, but you know what, here we go:

I remember the first time I saw a Sky Island. We'd just arrived at Heathrow. We were all a mess. One moment, Simon and I were on the beach, the next Bunce comes yelling about troubles at Watford, and then we're back home in England and all of us are being ushered in a car by Mitali Bunce. (Well, almost all of us. Wellbelove refused to come along and when Professor Bunce found out Shepard is a Normal, he wasn't allowed to join.) Professor Bunce drove us to Watford and I could see something was wrong. Some buildings were destroyed. Huge boulders had fallen down on them. I was so shocked and confused by the sight on the surface that I didn't even think about the sky. The moment we got out of the car, Simon put his hand on my shoulder and told me to look up. Sky Islands. They were everywhere. Professor Bunce started talking about how they just appeared overnight and that no one knew where they came from and it seemed like Normals cannot see them. They first appeared above Watford, but they've been popping up everywhere and chunks have fallen down, creating chaos and confusion on the surface The World of Mages needed everyone who was willing to help and Bunce and I didn't have to think long about it. Simon, on the other hand, was more doubtful. "It's alright. Take your time," I said. "Right," Simon said back, still looking at the sky. Bunce and I were ordered to go to whatever was left of the White Chapel. Simon decided to stay behind for, since he wasn't officially part of this brand new investigation team. I kissed his cheek. I said goodbye. I told him that he should go home and rest and that I'd see him later. I didn't know that that was the last time I'd see him.

Yeah, so, uh, just like in AWTWB, Simon walks out. But unlike AWTWB, Baz doesn't find him again. Gosh... I wonder where he went, with his wings and everything.

Meanwhile, small update on my Klaine fic: Waffle the chinchilla has been found! If you're reading this, feel free to come up with more names for little animals. I have 7 vacant spots.

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @ionlydrinkhotwater @1908jmd @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen ​ @cutestkilla ​​ @artsyunderstudy ​ @martsonmars ​ @facewithoutheart ​ @shrekgogurt @boyinjeans @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @blackberrysummerblog @whatevertheweather

[winderlylandchime]

🌈🍉

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

I always struggle to write Brian (although I’m having a much easier time with writing him in the 3rd person). He’s so unlike me and I love him so much, there’s a pressure to do him justice and to keep him in-character. An internal pressure, because I love to read a well-written and in-character Brian and I don’t want to write anything I wouldn’t read (we’re just not going to mention that MCD fic that I wrote that I absolutely would not read). I would say that the last chapter of You’re Like a Tattoo was particularly difficult. I had so much that I wanted to convey and that I wanted to convey in an entertaining way rather than “here we break for a list of things that have happened to Brian Kinney.” And I really wanted it to all make sense as to how things in that fic came to be.

🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

Mmm. I found and began reading The One Where… series when my spouse was very sick with a chronic illness and being made sicker by their medications. And reading that series and being inspired to write hurt/comfort really changed my perspective of disability and the social model of disability. They’re doing a lot better now but even if they weren’t, having those characters show what it is to love someone who is sick was life-changing.

Fic Writer Asks

[t4tdanvis]

Diaries Michi has so much potential actually.

She's just too shitty in just a terribly written way.

It's honestly really weird that they made a poc,, that.

Not to mention the SA,,,

Honestly Let's look at the evil mcd girls

Michi, Sasha, Ivy and Lillian.

We don't know much about Lillian. She's a mystery. Does she want to be ok Zane's side? Why is she doing what she does? She lacks screentime but it makes her all the more intriguing in a way. She's so mysterious that you just want to know more about her. I just wanted to mention her I don't have much to say about her.

Sasha is honestly very tragic and very redeemable. Someone tricked by magic. And she still has some goodness in her. She does kill people yes, a lot. But she still has some goodness, or atleast loyalty. She believes all her friends left her to die. And then was taken in by the shadowknights, so ofcourse she's going to be loyal to them. However, despite this. When she believed Aphmau left Laurance to die she stood up for him, saying that even if he did that to her he didn't deserve it. And she was fine with Kenmur moving on and marrying Emmalyn. Wanting him to be happy. She's very loyal. She cares a lot about the other shadowknights, upset when Zenix killed them.

I could fix her.

Now we have Ivy, simple but interesting.

She has no tragic backstory. She is just who she is. She has no sense of loyalty at all. She doesn't care who she serves. She joined the jury for power and glory. And she left no problem during the gap between season 1 and season 2. She is women's wrongs. Compared to Sasha she has absolutely no sense of loyalty. Her actions are purely self serving and I adore how it foils Sasha. Her actions are evil, but she has a goal and reason.

And michi, michi has a sad backstory in minecraft diaries. And her direction is so weird.

But she COULD continue the pattern here, honestly. The thing in between Sasha and Ivy; someone who is both tragic and selfish because of that. To make sure she doesn't have to go through that again.

Like there is interesting stuff there underneath the, all that. I would not add the slave trading and human trafficking at all but like- let me just unpack it.

She was human trafficked? Traded. Imprisoned throughout a huge part of her like. And her unlikeable personality made the werewolves not want her to marry their leader. What if she like, started acting like that in order to save herself y'know? She's someone who had to rely on herself. And then she gets innocent people to save herself, to make sure she doesn't have to go through that again.

That part of her, that is what has potential. Flawed but reasonable. Selfish but not mercilessly cruel.

The way they went about her sucks. Making a poc a slave trader? Wtf? The inplied SA was so unnecessary and weird.

She was also human trafficked herself? And now she does it to others? That's so weird to do??

But like- there was potential there.

did i leave this in my inbox for a million years bc i am terrible at responding to asks that clearly have Thought put into them (bc i have no thoughts in my head at all times) and am i the Worst Person Ever? yes. yes i did. and i am. but ANYWAYS

i really love this ask AUGHHHHHH ur so smart and idk what to add to it!!! ur analysis of characters is always so fucking i fucking LOVE it i am eating it

i do agree that michi has SO much potential but then just. flopped. she couldve been so cool but then jesson fucked it up for no reason 😭

in my rewrite im not 100% sure what im going to do with her - i dont want to completely remove the horrible things shes done, but also i dont want her to suck (writing wise) as much as she does in canon. there is so much potential there and i am hmmmmmm considering how i can fix her

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

First of all, there's this google sheet list that contains many women in whump, though obviously not limited that specific configuration.

Now let's get into some personal mentions. I am not a fan of modern or pet whump, I read mostly fantasy, and I prefer stories that go beyond the whump. There will often be male and female whumpees in the same story, because hey, why stop at hurting one?

Straight from my favs list, we have @starlit-hopes-and-dreams 's Carr in Hidden Depths, and @little-peril-stories ' Bree in The Prince of Thieves (she also has her own AU under the Queen of Lies) and @pleasestaywithmedarling 's Kiri in Sin of Purity, Purity of Sin. I would die for them <3

@thoughtsonhurtandcomfort writes a lot of lady whump, for example My Little Mermaid, but also Emmeline and Seraphina, check her pinned post! We also have @actress4him where I can really just recommend to check the pinned masterpost because there's a lot.

@whump-me has the occasional lady, though I personally haven't read Unseen and Unburied contains MCD, and on the opposite site for "just" aftermath and comfort, we have Gozukk and Anna by @whimperwoods

And I absolutely cannot ever forget @just-horrible-things ' Ari in Unlikely Salvation and AUs, especially the Chewtoy one. Hope you like it bloody.

Now we get to the ones I personally haven't read much of, but their names just happen to float around in my mind:

@aprilwaters 's Ivy, whose masterlist I have tried to fix here, @sableflynn 's Felicia from Out Unseen, @justplainwhump 's Dany and @whump-tr0pes 's Vera, who appears in Honor Bound and her own spinoff, please check the pinned post.

As for my own stories, I have Merridy's backstory in Nuisance, which merges with Damien's story in Glass Shards. I also have Eilis in Till Death, who is technically nonbinary but I'm putting her here anyway, because I just spent half an hour typing this all out. Also let's not pretend someone hating lady whump will read about she/her enbies, so if you know any, bring them my way.

Where are all these male whumper x female whumpee fics everyone keeps saying there are so many of? (Well, compared to female whumper x any gender whumpee at least.) Am I just bad at finding them? Please, I'm desperate. Everything I come across that I haven't already read that has a tagged female character is either environmental whump, or she's the caretaker.

And I keep seeing people say that the vast majority of m/f whump has noncon or romance in it. Why can't I find any of this (save like three bbu fics)?? Please, I am the target audience! Where are they???

[ace-avian]

It’s time.

To rate the versions of Garroth. Please note these are my opinions, you do not have to agree. I will be going from least favourite to most favourite. All the seasons are going to be counted as separate Garroths. No I am not counting mini series’ but upside down stories gets a participation trophy.

Here we go.

At the bottom of the list: Mermaid Tales Garroth. I love pirates so much I have a bias but this man- THIS MAN- you can bet he wouldn’t pay child support and would probably call me a slur

Next- PDH S1 Garroth. I don’t have to give my reasoning- mans kissed a girl without her consent. That’s reason enough. In the words of Chris from TDI- not cool dude.

Next- FCU Garroth. Hoo. This man infuriates me to no end. Garroth, buddy, if a girl you know and are very close to is CLEARLY not doing well and you NOTICE THAT, if she asks you what you like about her when you ask her out, do not say something physically. Dumbass.

Fourth from the bottom; PDH S2. He’s got a bit of development, he apologised for kissing Aphmau with consent. Though it was after SHE mentioned it so points deducted for not knowing it was a shit thing to do and apologising beforehand.

Next- Mystreet S1 Garroth. This man somehow did not learn- moving to a town/street where the girl who has stated she doesn’t like you like that is moving- that is CREEPY. Stop it. Stop that. And do I have to mention the play? I don’t think I do.

After them- MCD S3. As shitty as that season is, I love MCD so much, but I just- I cannot excuse the casual racism. Garroth you don’t trust Lio cos he’s from Tu’la? Okay you went evil for a bit but we’re not gonna talk about that? Sure he apologised (the Lio thing him betraying was never addressed again) but it still happened.

Next on the ladder is both Mystreet S2 and S3. They go together cos…they’re just there. I just kinda feel indifferent, they’re just kinda vibing. I’d say S3 is a bit higher than S2 but that’s cos S3 is like the only season I really like.

Next- MCD S2. Again- he’s kinda there. He’s lower than S1 cos he does kiss Aph without consent AGAIN- but he does get points for apologising for his anger during the going to rescue Zianna arc (though that anger was PERFECTLY justified the pregnant storyline was ridiculous with a capital what the fuck). Nice himbo man.

Next! Mystreet S5. Again. Just. Kinda. There. I love werewolf Garroth to be entirely honest though the Garroth and KC kiss scene throws me for a loop and gets him points redacted- I can’t remember how or why that happened. Prolly Jessica being a terrible writer.

We’re getting to the top; next is MCD S1. Brilliant himbo lad, even more in the rewrite. I adore him and his little awkwardness, though again- went evil cos- friend kissed the girl he liked- okay then- though not many points deducted cos I imagine Lillian did a fair bit with that.

Next is Mystreet S4 Garroth. I like him, his panic over Zane, and their brother dynamic ACTUALLY HAVING DEVELOPMENT- my beloveds. I have a vivid memory of crying when they hugged. Emerald Secret Garroth gets in the top three. Good job buddy. Gold star.

Second place! Mystreet S6. I have a supernatural creature bias as well including to werewolves (though unlike Jessica admitting it’s a werewolf fetish I just think they’re cool especially when the lore is fleshed out or changed), it enhances his himbo and AGAIN- ZANE AND HIS RELATIONSHIP IS WHAT SAVES HIM. The development of the forever potions helps tremendously. The moment of zane trying to reach out to his brother? Ow. O w.

And first place!! A Royal Tale Garroth! This man is peak I will not accept criticism. Him and Jenny are kinda cute in this scene I’m not gonna lie. Also trauma over killing his dad, gives him some spice a lot of Garroths lack (but that’s the writing :) ). Good job my boy. Gold star.

And as said, honourable mention to swap/upside down stories Garroth. Or as my friend says, Girlboss Garroth. He gets participation trophy and a head pat.

Hope y’all enjoyed. I’ll have to do this again.

[sitp-recs]

Hidden Gems by @vukovich

I was rereading holemate the other day and it occurred to me that one could consider Vuk’s works an “acquired taste” - in the literal sense of an “appreciation for something unlikely to be enjoyed by a person who’s not had substantial exposure to it”, in other words the more we get, the more we’ll want 😔🙌 Vuk’s works are bold and fresh, engaging, intriguing and with such a distinct feel - it lures me enough to go check anything they decide to write, and I love the thrill of never knowing what to expect when I’m starting a new fic.

It’s not every day you find an author in whom you’re willing to trust to take you out of your comfort zone, and I do it consciously, knowing I’m gonna thank them for the experience no matter how the journey goes. Vuk’s writing is sexy, confident, unapologetic. I love the grasp they have of the characters, and that precise understanding of where they want to go with a story. Their Draco and Harry are deeply flawed, complex and adventurous - what’s not to love? They feel very human and I love that for them and for us! Whenever I’m looking for something outside the box, clever and full of personality but also edgy, hilarious, fucked up, devastating or haunting, I know where to go. I listed below my faves that I revisit often and I think they’re a great showcase of Vuk’s genius and range. Vuk also has a fabulous collection of short stories for peculiar prompts that you can find here. Go ahead and feast!

Manna (2021, E, 814 words) - brilliant sexy short feat. public sex, this got me at the edge of my seat!

Harry developed a taste for hiding in the Slytherin train car. And maybe for getting caught.

"I'll Figure It Out." (2021, E, 2.6k) - brilliant idea perfectly executed with hot af & hung lawyer!Draco putting Harry’s mouth to good use. One of my favorite PWPs 🔥

For the prompt: "Don't let your mouth get you into something that your ass can't handle." Harry's mouth repeatedly gets him into situations his arse can't handle. Then, he finds himself in a situation his arse can handle better than his mouth.

Epitaphs in Autographs (2021, E, 7k) - deliciously angsty and devastating, only Vuk would lure me with tags I usually make sure to avoid. Prepare the tissues. Cw: MCD, infidelity, implied domestic violence, sad ending

A series of works surrounding death, imperfect relationships, flawed coping, and humanity. Also a firing range of writing style.

Harry Potter: DILF Hunter (2021, E, 11k) - hilarious Himbo Harry shenanigans, this will make you laugh non-stop, major kudos to Luna & Neville (they’re both so great!) and that hot hot ending with dilf Draco and dad Harry finally doing the dirty together 😌

Auror Potter doesn't know what a DILF is, but if Malfoy's one, then Harry's gonna be the Ministry's best DILF Hunter ever! Or, five times Harry heard Draco was a DILF, and one time he found it to be pleasantly true.

holemate (2021, E, 19k) - it’s about the yearning!!!! Devastating soulmate AU with Draco whump and oblivious Harry, we love to see it! Smut & angst as per, but don’t worry it’s a happy ending :) Cw for recreational drug use, wasting condition and some police brutality

Most people never get a soulmate. Harry has buried three. When the mark appears again, this time alongside an American Auror, perhaps a diversion can keep everyone alive. A diversion that looks a whole lot like a chaotic, fuckable Malfoy.

The Foxing Ring (2021, E, 24k) - my first Vuk fic is probably the fluffiest story she’s ever written and one of my all-time faves. Playful and clever, with an unusual plot, witty humor, and unexpected fur kink! Love the squib Harry + powerful Draco combo, they’re a perfect match and white fox Draco is everything we need in life 🙌

What. The. Fluff.* Harry's got no magic, one good ear, no great dating prospects, and a nice little wand workshop. Draco's got too much magic, a history of biting off ears, no great dating prospects, and a growing fondness for wandmakers. And a very fetching tail. Read my rec here and check perfect fox Draco art by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm here.

Fearful Trill (2021, E, 29k) - the most romantic dark fic you’ll find! An intriguing and brilliant angst with a happy ending with unredeemed prisoner Draco, inexperienced Head Auror Harry, BAMF Hermione public sex, lots of angst and smut. Cw: terminal illness (cancer)

Harry should have come out and met someone when he was younger. He should have seen a doctor about the pain in his hip while youth was still on his side. Now, he's made his peace with dying young, but maybe not with dying alone. Draco should have got the Kiss. He should have died in Azkaban decades ago. Instead, guards throw him in a Ministry lift with a dying man who could stand to live a little.

[dhwty-writes]

The Terribly Sad and Tragic Affair that Is the Fake Funeral of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss

Apparently, I am not only drawing for the Critical Role fandom, but writing for it, too. After months of nearly no progress I just vomited out 3k words this Tuesday and it only went downhill from there.

This fic is based on this post by @anne-o-nyme, I really hope I managed to capture the energy of it.

Have fun!

Summary: There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience.

After the sudden "death" of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss, it is his brother Verin's job to empty out his towers. The Mighty Nein show up to help (and maybe steal a few things).

OR: Verin is grieving, Essek just wants his stuff back, and the Mighty Nein are the Mighty Nein.

Warnings: I didn't tag this with MCD, because Essek is technically alive and kicking. Since Verin doesn't know that though, and this fic is written from his POV, this is dealing with grief and includes depictions of depressive thoughts as well as anxiety attacks. For more explicit warnings, please mind the tags on AO3. Take care of yourselves, and let me know if I forgot anything.

Read on AO3

There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience. "Listen," he said with what little calm he had left, "I know that by returning one of our beacons you became heroes of the Dynasty and were placed under Es— My bro— his stewardship. But this here—" he gestured vaguely at the interior of Essek's towers that had always been too cold, too empty, but not like now, never like now— "This is a very difficult situation for me, so if you could please leave, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Yes, yes, it's very sad that Essek died," the blue tiefling said—Jester, her name was Jester; she had given him that already as she had offered him her condolences with a hug—and Verin could barely contain his anger. After the funeral he had quite enough of lying dignitaries, nobles, and heroes currying favours with him. That had always been Essek's thing, he would know what to do, how to make them regret even daring to speak up; Verin had never been any good at it.

"But we're his friends!" He grit his teeth at Jester's blatant falsehood. Perhaps his anger showed on his face, since the tiefling faltered. "And, uh— Fjord?"

"It's true," the half-orc with too-smooth words and too-smooth voice lied, too. "We spent quite some time with your, er— your brother here. Made some good memories. We thought we might take this as our chance to say goodbye, too."

"We are here to help as well. We wouldn't want to infringe upon your grief, though," the tall firbolg added. "So, if you'd prefer us to return at a later point, we'd be happy to."

Verin was still trying to process everything—from these strangers showing up unannounced to their overwhelming presence to the fact that his brother was dead—while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the halfling who looked like she might have sticky fingers. So, he latched onto the word that stood out the most to him: "Help?"

"Right," Fjord said, looking slightly embarrassed, "we probably should have led with that..."

"We should have called ahead, too," the scary-looking human in blue—they didn't even wear white for the funeral—added. "We always forget to call ahead."

"But Beau, how should we have called ahead?" Jester complained. "We didn't know Verin yet."

"Well, Essek—" the human was interrupted by the even scarier-looking woman next to her stepping on her foot unsubtly. She at least had the decency to act embarrassed. "Right. Sorry 'bout that."

Awkward silence fell across the room, the Mighty Nein looking anywhere but him. It took him a few moments to realise they were waiting for him to speak up. "Help how?" Verin could have kicked himself. By the Light, he could do better than that. He had to do better than that.

A beat of silence followed, then everyone seemed to talk at once. Verin wanted to weep. How was he supposed to deal with this? How had his brother dealt with this? 'He probably hasn't,' he thought. 'They're probably all liars, probably—'

Someone cleared their throat and all eyes turned to the other human who hadn't said anything so far and who looked properly miserable. Immediately, the Mighty Nein fell silent. "Word has reached us that Den Thelyss ordered these premises to be vacated as early as possible," he said quietly with an accent Verin has been taught that belonged to the enemy. "And while some of us may not look like much, I can assure you, we are quite capable."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "I supposed such menial tasks are beneath the heroes of the dynasty. There are servants—"

"Well, sure," the halfling with the probably sticky fingers interrupted, "but we know him. Knew him, I mean; sorry, force of habit."

"Besides, there's a lot of stuff," the lavender tiefling, who Verin was pretty sure was a known pirate, piped up. "Looks like you could use the help."

"If you want to, of course," the sad Empire human added.

Verin only wanted to scream, to give room to the torrent of thoughts raging in his head. 'My brother just died. My brother just died and he wasn't consecuted, so he's gone for good. He's gone for good and I didn't even know him; I didn't even know about these supposed friends he had because he didn't allow me near him in decades. I was a horrible brother and so was he, but I can't even be mad at him because he's dead.

'And now these liars show up and talk about friendship and knowing him, but those are all lies, horrible ones, because Essek had no friends. Essek was cold and cruel and lonely and do you even know how horrible that is? Dying alone with no-one who mourns you, just the favours you still owe them? Do you? I don't even know, and I'm his brother.'

Were he a weaker man, a less disciplined one, he might have said so. But he was Taskhand Verin of Den Thelyss and he had learned discipline before he had learned to talk. So, he said: "Your help would be greatly appreciated, thank you. I'll have the servants bring up some tea. There are, uh—" He straightened his back, summoning the composure that was befitting a Taskhand, even one with a dead brother. "There are boxes up there, they've been brought to the rooms already. Anything of value will be sold; the rest will be given to charity. The things— Well, if you find anything that might have sentimental value, something in his handwriting, perhaps, I think I should like to keep that, please."

The firbolg nodded sagely. "Of course. We will be careful with our selection."

With that, Verin turned around and— froze. Where was he even supposed to start? The towers had always seemed to huge for just Essek and he knew that there were very few personal belongings in them. Still, they would have to be scoured clean within the fortnight.

A large hand on his shoulder made him jump, although he'd never admit it. "Sometimes, when a task seems too large, you should start with the smallest part," the firbolg said. "If I were you, I'd start with the smallest room."

"Thank you, that, uh— that seems like good advice," Verin replied, still a bit startled and confused. "I, er— I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"Caduceus Clay. I live in a graveyard, so I'm used to this," Clay said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Verin furrowed his brows slightly. A graveyard? It seemed highly unlikely to him that one of the heroes of the Dynasty would live in a graveyard of all places. Perhaps they were not only liars, but impostors too? But they had the symbols of the Bright Queen, so there wasn't much that he could say.

"Right," he mumbled. "I believe the smallest room would be the closet. Although it might be tied with the bathroom..." He trailed off again. He had never seen Essek's bedroom in his towers. Judging by how many times he had even seen the inside of the building; he could count himself lucky if he even found the way there.

"Why don't we split up?" Clay suggested. "One group takes the closet, one the bathroom and one the bedroom. We'd get done sooner that way."

"That is a great idea, Caduceus," Jester said excitedly. "I'll take the bathroom; I promised— er, I'm curious if I can find more of that hair oil, I got for Fjord that one time!"

"Ohhh, are you saying this is... an investigation?!" the halfling joined in.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Veth!"

"Seems like a case for Wildemount's best detectives!"

"Bye, Verin!" Jester called and he blinked and they were gone. Fjord joined them as well, muttering something about having to supervise them.

The purple pirate-tiefling shrugged, heading off in the same direction. "Well, I wouldn't mind rifling through some drawers. I'll have a look at that bedroom."

"Yeah, I don't need to see Essek's underwear, so I'll pass on the closet," Beau added tactfully—Verin was getting the sneaking suspicion that manners were not really her strong suit. She linked hands with the large woman at her side, pulling her along. "Come on, Yash."

"I'll go handle the tea," Clay said. "Don't worry about it." He vanished in the direction of the kitchen, his steps accompanied by the constant tap tap tap of his staff.

When Verin looked around, he realised that only the sad Empire human was left with him in the hallway. "If you wouldn't mind," he said, pointedly avoiding eye-contact, "I would love to have a look at the closet. I always, ah— appreciated your brother's sense of fashion."

Verin blinked at him a few times, then shrugged. "Sure." He began heading up the stairs.

"My condolences," the human continued. "I realise I didn't speak up earlier, but— I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," he said, letting the same numb feeling wash over him again that he had embraced since the news of Essek's death had reached him.

"I know that we seem like a bunch of, ah— forgive my language, but assholes, but we're really here to help. I will tell the others to tone it down a bit."

"Thank you," he repeated.

"If you'd prefer that we start in, ah— less personal rooms, we can do that also."

"If I'm perfectly honest, I don't even know what I should be doing there."

"Neither am I." The human laughed nervously. "I have dealt with grief before, but I've never had the, ah— how do you call it? Hang on." He pulled out a copper wire and whispered: "Beau, how do you say zweifelhafte Ehre in Common? You can reply to this message." A moment later he straightened. "Right. I never had the dubious honour of emptying out a deceased person's house before."

"Neither did I," Verin admitted. 'Usually, the deceased person comes back,' he didn't say. Instead, he opted for: "You're, er— What's the word in Common? You're weird? I'm sorry if that's insulting, I just— waele xanalressen [stupid languages]."

"I don't understand your words, but I think I understand the sentiment." The man grimaced. "And I've heard that one before. I hope we're not too much of a... too much."

"It's alright," he lied and opened the door to Essek's bedroom. 

It wasn't alright; Verin wanted to weep again.

The door to the bathroom stood ajar, as did several drawers and cabinets, although he couldn't glance inside. Considering that he heard glass shatter and a quiet "oops" followed by a hushed "Jester!" he was rather glad about that. Besides, what he saw was already quite enough to handle. Beau was currently rifling through Essek's nightstand, the tall woman tossing unread books on the bed carelessly, while the lavender tiefling seemed to make his way through his brother's collections of make-up and jewellery alike.

They froze when they spotted him and the sad human in the door. "Heeey, Verin," Beau drawled.

"These were all still closed, I swear," the lavender tiefling said immediately, gesturing at the jars in front of them.

Verin just sighed in defeat. "I don't wear any make-up, I don't care; you can have it. Put the jewellery in the box to be sold; the books are for charity if he hasn't read them. Just leave the earrings in front of the mirror, please. Those were his favourites."

Without another glance at them, Verin headed straight to Essek's closet, desperate to get some quiet. He took a few moments to collect himself, before closing the door and leaning his head against it with a heavy thunk.

He stayed like that for a minute or maybe two until he heard someone clear their throat. "I have been debating for the past fifty-five seconds, if I should just Dimension Door out," the sad human said and Verin very nearly jumped out of his skin, "but that would be loud and I didn't want to startle you. Not that I didn't startle you like this but—"

"Vithin shu," Verin cursed.

"Vithin shu ke," the sad human agreed, his accent in Undercommon even heavier than normally.

For a moment, they both stared at each other, equally startled by the course of events. Then, the human looked away again. "I, ah— have started learning Undercommon before, um— well, before." Verin tried very hard to focus on the way the human was scratching at his forearms; that way he had something else to focus on besides his nearing breakdown.

"This is a bit embarrassing, but, ah— I believe I forgot to introduce myself," the human continued. "I'm Caleb Widogast. Essek and I were... friends, yes, and ah— colleagues, of some sort. It's... complicated."

He scratched at his arms again before turning towards the shelves and pulling out a stack of tunics. He unfolded one, looked at it, then carefully folded it again, cast a cantrip to smooth out the wrinkles, and put it in the charity box. Then he repeated the procedure with the next. And the next. And the next.

Verin frowned, thinking for a moment about his words. There was something about them that seemed painfully familiar, although he couldn't quite remember. Then: "The transmutation specialist."

Widogast looked up in surprise. "Yes."

"Essek told me of you," Verin admitted.

The last time they had seen each other had been here, in these towers, just a few months ago. He had found his brother in his office, pouring over notes for a new spell, alive and healthy as ever. As always, he had entered without knocking. As always, he had pretended to read the notes. Not as always, he had noticed something wrong. "Whose handwriting is that?" he had asked.

"What?" Essek had snapped, his head whipping up. Then, however, his expression had softened. "Oh. A friend's. A colleague, of sorts. He's helping me out, a bit."

"With the spell?" Verin had asked incredulously.

"Yes. He's a transmutation specialist; you know that's not my forte. Now give it back, will you?"

"A colleague, huh?" He had grinned and held the paper out of Essek's reach. "Are you sure that's all?"

Perhaps Essek had been sick after all, for the strangest thing had happened: instead of using his floating cantrip to snatch the notes back, he had gotten a dreamy, far-off look in his eyes. He had even smiled with an expression Verin might have called dopey, if it weren't his brother they were talking about. After a few moments, he had snapped out of it, sighed, and said: "It's complicated."

"Did he?" Widogast asked tentatively. "Did he, ah— did he say anything else about me?"

Verin pinned him down with a glare, sizing him up. In hindsight, he should have noticed the thick spellbook at his hip earlier; judging by his slim frame alone, he should have known the man was a wizard. He supposed Widogast was handsome enough, although his brother had never cared much for that, with his copper hair and his striking blue eyes. Blue eyes around which crows' feet were gathering, as he noticed to his dismay. 'He's human,' Verin reminded himself. He might have a few decades left, maybe, whereas Essek had centuries ahead of him. The thought why his brother might condemn himself to more loneliness crossed his mind, though it hardly mattered. His brother had been the first to die, after all.

"Verin?" Widogast inquired quietly.

"I'm sorry," he answered with a thick voice. "I got lost in my thoughts there. He, uhh— he said that he trusted you." That didn't even begin to cover it, but these Mighty Nein had been lying to him since the moment they got here, so what was a little lie by omission? Besides, there were some memories that he wanted to keep just to himself.

"Essek," he had teased, still waving the sheet of paper out his reach. "Come on! Aren't we brothers?"

Essek had crossed his arms and pouted. He hadn't done that since they were both little. "Unfortunately. You are a menace. And a child."

"If you tell me about him, I'll give it back. Is he handsome? Is he a drow? Where's he from? How did you meet? When will I meet him? Can I promise to kill him if he hurts you?"

"Verin!" Essek had groaned and hid his face in his hands.

"What do you do when you meet? I bet you stay up all night, talking about 'arcane research' or something."

"We do, in fact. Are you done now?"

"Oh, is that what young people call it these days?" He had cackled at his own joke.

"Evidently not," Essek had muttered. "Might I remind you that you're younger than me?"

"Might I remind you that you're a buzzkill?" Verin had shot back and placed the note down. He had gotten bored of his own game.

Essek had taken the sheet of paper almost reverently and thanked him. "I would have hated it to rewrite that page." He had smoothed it down, stored it safely away in a folder, silent for a long time. Then, he had said: "Caleb."

"Excuse me?"

"That's his name," Essek had said. "Caleb Widogast."

Verin had frowned. "Hey, Essek?"

"Hm?"

"You must trust him a lot, to share a spell with him."

His brother had taken a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. Verin hadn't expected him to answer, yet he'd said: "I do, actually. It's not the first spell we've created together and I would be honoured to create a thousand more with him. I'd trust him with my life, my death, and beyond. I think—" He'd huffed. "I think I trust him almost as much as I trust you."

Verin watched Widogast as he was looking through his brother's tunics, placing most of them in the charity box, and he wondered. Wondered if the trust Essek had obviously put in Widogast had been misplaced. Wondered if it had extended to his friends, as well. Wondered if ultimately trust had been his downfall, as he'd always feared.

Then again, if Essek had trusted him... perhaps that trust had been mutual. Perhaps they had been friends. Perhaps there was another person mourning his brother after all.

"Do I have something on my face?" Verin had given up on counting how many times Widogast had now startled him out of his thoughts.

"No, no I—," Verin stammered. "I'm sorry."

He tilted his head to the side. "For staring?"

"No, er— For your loss." Liar or no liar, it only seemed appropriate.

"Oh." Widogast turned back to the tunics. Verin probably should get started, too, shouldn't he? "Thank you. Though I'd wager your loss weighs heavier than mine."

"Probably," he agreed and turned to the task at hand. At this point, Widogast had moved on from the simple tunics to Essek's court regalia. After a short moment of consideration, Verin decided to look through the pants; he also had no interest in sorting through his dead brother's underwear.

Out of the corner of his eye he kept watching the wizard, pulling out one cloak after the other. At a few he wrinkled his nose, at others he just stared before putting them with the tunics. After a while one made him pause; an elaborate, beautiful robe in deep purple. "This is what he was wearing when we first met him," he said.

'He hated that one,' Verin thought. Not that he could say that out loud. Instead, he cocked his head and asked: "Are you sure? He has a lot of those. Had, I mean. Had a lot of those."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He tapped his temple with a faint smile. "I have a good memory."

"As does Essek," he snapped, suddenly feeling very defensive about his brother's capabilities. "I suppose most wizards do."

Infuriatingly, Widogast only nodded. "Indeed. Or they're not very good ones."

Silently, Verin turned back to the trousers. The sooner he got done, the sooner he got these people out of his brother's towers, the better. He didn't know for how long they worked in silence, Verin reminiscing about the times he had seen Essek wear the clothes and wondering about those he didn't know. Eventually, he folded the last of them and forced himself to return to the present. "I think we're done here," he announced. "Do you have a preference for a next room?"

"Perhaps the library?" Widogast offered a tentative smile. "I think I might be of more use there than folding clothes."

"More use than I will be, surely."

"I take it the wizardry doesn't run in the family, then?"

Verin only scoffed and opened the door to the bedroom again.

He immediately spotted Beau leafing through one of the books Essek had never read, while the tiefling was chatting amiably with the aasimar while braiding her hair. He also noted the boxes neatly stacked in the middle of the room. Besides that, he noticed with a heavy heart, the room looked much the same. If anything, it looked less orderly and empty than before. Except for—

"Where are Essek's earrings?" Verin demanded to know.

"What earrings?" the lavender tiefling replied with a too-wide grin the same moment Beau said: "Dude, there's tons of them, why don't—"

"No," he said decisively. "Essek's favourite earrings; they're always up here. I told you about them. Where are they?" His hands curled into fists, his neatly manicured fingernails pressing almost painfully into his skin.

"Perhaps you should look in one of the boxes," the aasimar woman suggested "I'm sure they're—"

"You're lying," Verin interrupted her, barely containing his anger. "Why are you lying? If they're in one of the boxes, then only because you put them there. So: where are they?"

Widogast only now stepped out of the closet, wearing an amber necklace he hadn't noticed before. "Verin—" he said tentatively, but he'd had enough.

"Shut up!" He startled himself with how loud his voice was. But he was beyond caring. "I know they're not in there, because the only ones to put them in there would have been you. So, either you're lying about having them put in there, or you're lying about stealing them, I don't care. Just— please. Please give them back."

The four of them passed a guilty glance. "We can't," Beau replied finally.

"The fuck you can't," Verin spat. "Give them back!"

"Verin, love, we would really love to," the tiefling added, "but we can't."

"I don't understand; is it precious things you want? Here, have some!" He strode over to the boxes and ripped the first open, tossing the lid towards the bathroom door Jester was peeking out of. He reached in to grab a necklace—an ugly one, he had always thought, with a stylised beacon—and threw it in their direction.

Beau caught it. Of course.

"Have a whole box, actually, if you like them so damn much." He reached inside and pulled out a jewellery box, tears prickling in his eyes. He threw one of those, too, just for good measure. It gave him some satisfaction that Widogast had to dodge it. "Just give me back the bloody earrings that my brother wore at my fucking consecution!" He was properly crying now and could only imagine the mess he looked like, but he had reached his limit. And, in his opinion, he was allowed to with all that was going on.

At least they looked a little bit guilty. "Fuck man, we didn't know," Beau mumbled.

"It's just one pair, Beau," Jester called over from the bathroom. "I'm sure it will be alright."

"Yes, there's no need for this to escalate," Fjord agreed and strode over to them, his hands raised innocently.

"I don't even know you people," Verin muttered, looking at the people crowding into his brother's bedroom. "Why did I even let you inside?"

"Do you want the earrings back?" the aasimar woman asked, reaching into a bag at her hip. Had she been carrying a greatsword for the whole time? Verin suddenly noticed how overpowered he was, were he to face all of them. "You can have them back if you want. Here, you can have them back."

"For a moment," Widogast added, slowly drawing closer to him and taking the earrings from the aasimar. He held them out on his flat hand, almost like he had seen soldiers offer treats to horses. His whole demeanour reminded him of someone trying to calm a spooked animal. For some reason, that seemed hilarious to him and he couldn't help the hysterical giggle that escaped his throat.

"Verin, I need you to calm down," he continued. "I know that's easier said than done, but you need your head."

"I think we should all calm down," Clay said from the doorway. And despite being surprised again, he did. It didn't make any sense, but few things these days did.

"Did it work?" the halfling asked. Verin wasn't really sure what she was talking about.

"It did," Clay confirmed.

"Gut," Widogast said and pressed the earrings that had seemed so important a moment ago into Verin's hands. "I think we should maybe go somewhere else, ja? Will you come with me?"

Inadvisable as it might be, if Essek had trusted that man, he should, too. And out of all of the Nein, he seemed to be the most normal one. The one he could see Essek with most. So, he nodded.

"I'll get us back to the kitchen, quickly." Caleb held out his hand and Verin closed his eyes, steeling himself. 'I hate Dimension Door,' was the last thing that crossed his mind before the teleportation spell ripped him away, together with: 'We haven't been to the kitchen, yet.'

Evidently, there went something wrong with the spell. Verin didn't know much about magic, but he knew Dimension Door couldn't transport more than two people. So, when he heard Beau groan and say "Fuck, dude, warn us next time," he knew that something wasn't right.

"You knew about the plan, Beauregard," Widogast replied.

"It doesn't matter," Fjord decided. "Caduceus, do you think you could make tea again? I think the Calm Emotions is about to wear off."

Cautiously, Verin opened one eye, then the other. They were, in fact, standing in a kitchen, as far as he could tell. All of the Mighty Nein were surrounding him. The furniture seemed to have been made for people taller than them; Essek probably would need to float in order to avoid awkwardly climbing onto the chair. The firbolg, however, who was fussing with a teapot, seemed to fit right in. All in all, the interior was very rustic. And very much not in Essek's towers, not that he had ever seen that room, of course.

The panic hit him once more. Verin whirled around to the wizard, instinctively grasping for his sword. "Where the fuck—" he faltered, finding his hip bare. Of course, he hadn't brought it for the funeral. Instead, he opted for just grasping Widogast by the lapels and lifting him up a bit. It was supposed to be menacing, which surely would be more effective, were humans not so annoyingly tall. "Where the fuck are we?!" he spat out.

A lot of things seemed to happen at once—he heard a "Fuck, man, what-" from Beau, a "Well, Mister Thelyss" from the pirate, several hands trying to tug him away from the weak wizard—but he didn't pay them any mind. He just shook Widogast, who looked entirely too calm for his liking, and demanded: "Answer me!"

"Leave him," was all Widogast said. "He has every right to be angry."

Indeed, the people grasping at him retreated, still on guard and surrounding him. There was a creak outside the door and Verin desperately wished for his sword once more. Then, a voice cut through the tense silence that had descended over the kitchen: "Caleb, is that you? You're back early."

"Yeah, there were some complications. Best come and look yourself, Schatz."

There was a sigh that was entirely too familiar for Verin's liking. Then, the door opened with a creak and in walked a dead man. "Complications," Essek Thelyss said with a fond smile. "I was just a Sending away, what did you come here fo— oh."

The person wearing his brother's face stopped in their tracks as they saw him. A couple of complicated emotions passed over his face—confusion, surprise, regret, guilt. If he hadn't known before, Verin was certain now that they were impostors, all of them. His brother would never tolerate such a display of weakness. Still, the impostor said: "Hello, brother."

Verin whipped his head back around to the wizard in his grasp. "What the fuck are you playing at?" he hissed.

"I- what- Verin!" the Essek-impostor sputtered. "What are you doing; put him down!"

"I would appreciate that, yes," Widogast added.

"Not before you don't tell me what's going on."

"Going on?" The impostor sneered and shook his head in a perfect imitation of his brother. "Nothing is going on, Verin."

"You died," he accused him.

"Evidently not," Essek scoffed.

Verin narrowed his eyes, looking from the man claiming to be his brother over the other too calm wizard to the rest of the Nein, seemingly perfectly happy to let this play out. "Prove it," he demanded. "Tell me something only my brother would know."

"You've become paranoid," he noted and Verin couldn't decide if it sounded proud or disappointed. "Alright. When you and I were in our early thirties, you once got in trouble for scaling the outside of mother's mansion. Rightfully, I should have gotten in trouble, too, but I was hiding on the attic. And the reason you never told anyone, is because then you'd have had to explain that I, the wizard, had somehow outpaced you, the fighter, in a climbing competition."

Verin wrinkled his nose at that. "Well, my brother cheated."

"I did not cheat, thank you very much!" He huffed indignantly and crossed his arms. "You didn't say 'no magic' before we started."

He stared at Essek for a few moments. "It's you," he whispered.

"Obviously."

Verin dropped the wizard on the ground and looked over at his brother; really looked. The man looked nothing like the one he had known for most of his life. His hair was longer than it had ever been since he'd cut it off and his bare feet were touching the ground. His clothes were casual, a simple tunic and trousers. After this day, Verin knew for a fact that not even Essek's trancing clothes were that informal, and yet his brother looked more comfortable in them in another's house than he had in decades. On top of that, he kept glancing over to Widogast. And smiling. Essek was smiling.

No, this man looked nothing like the one Verin had known for nearly a century. But he looked a lot like his brother.

"You're alive," he said stupidly.

"Yes, of course I am," Essek said, as if Verin hadn't just attended his funeral.

It felt only right to tell him so: "Why are you alive? I was at your funeral."

"That's a long story," he sighed and floated onto one of the chairs that were slightly too tall for him. He accepted a cup of tea from Clay with thanks and turned back to Verin. "Why are you here?"

"Well, that's a pretty long story, too," Jester spoke up. "He kind of started freaking out about your earrings, I think? And he was crying and looking pretty awful and everything, right Caleb?"

"I, ah— didn't think he'd believe us if we told him about you," Caleb said. "So, we had agreed beforehand to bring him here, in case of an emergency."

"He thought we were lying," Clay added.

"I suppose it is my story to tell," Essek said. "Earrings, Verin?"

"They're your favourite," Verin said stupidly and held them out to him.

His face grew soft. "Oh," he said as he took them gingerly, "I didn't know that you kne—"

Before he could overthink and do something stupid like stop himself, he surged forward and enveloped his brother in a tight hug. After a moment Essek closed his arms around him, too.

It seemed so unreal, to be able to hold him after mourning him for what felt like years. All the worries, all the grief and anger that had crushed him in the past few weeks and for what? For the bastard to still be alive after all. It wasn't fair. Why had he had to go through all of that? And why did he feel the pressing urge to start crying again? He should be happy, shouldn't he, that his brother wasn't dead. So why did it make him feel so awful?

"I think this is our cue to leave," Fjord said. Verin felt his brother nod and heard the Mighty Nein shuffle out of the kitchen, the door closing behind them with a creak. 

Only then, Essek spoke up. "Verin," he asked quietly, "are you crying?"

"Shut up," he mumbled through the thick fog of tears and snot, definitely not crying. "I hate you, Essek. Do you know what I went through?" 

"Meeting the Mighty Nein? Yes, I can imagine."

"They're horrible," he complained. "They're loud and they're rude and they had absolutely no respect for any of your belongings! I thought I was going mad."

"They are. They also are my friends, you know."

"How?" he asked agonised.

"I know they don't look like it, but they are surprisingly capable. And I am sure that you've noticed most of them to be annoyingly charming. But I think their absolute worst traits are their infinite stubbornness and perseverance. They quite literally did not leave me alone until they had befriended me."

Verin glanced up at him questioningly. "And were half in love with the wizard?" he guessed.

Essek scowled darkly, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Perhaps."

He snorted and disentangled himself from their embrace. Very calmly he said: "You're a liar." 

Essek looked genuinely startled at that. "What?"

"You said, you trusted me more than him. Why then, did he know and I didn't?"

"It's... complicated," he said.

"You wizards say that a lot."

"Verin." Essek closed his eyes. "I trust you. Implicitly. And I care about you. Which is why I chose not to burden you with the knowledge of my misdeeds. I didn't— I didn't want to put you in an impossible situation to choose between me and our queen."

He laughed nervously. "What on earth are you talking about? I mean, you didn't commit treason or anything."

Essek didn't answer, avoiding eye-contact instead.

"Right?"

Still, Essek kept stubbornly quiet.

"Oh," Verin breathed. He took a moment trying to reconcile what he knew about his brother with the fact that he was apparently a traitor. It all fit together ridiculously easy. "The beacons."

Essek looked up at him in shock and he knew he had hit the mark. "What?"

"You stole the beacons." Now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Essek had been studying them at the time, one of the only people with frequent access to them. He had always been fascinated by them, yet his theories had been rejected for their heretic nature. As Shadowhand, he had also regular contact with counterparts from the Empire, albeit not officially. Then, a few years after Essek’s research had been denied, they had vanished. How had he never seen this before?

"Oh Essek...," he said softly.

"No, please— I don’t—Please don’t—” He seemed to deflate, curling in on himself. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you, I—”

"I don't care,” Verin interrupted his frantic ramblings.

"What?" Essek looked up at him, looking just as shocked as Verin felt.

“I don’t care,” he repeated, realising that it was true the moment the words left his mouth. For how could he care about something as trivial as treason when Essek was sitting right in front of him, alive and well. "You're my brother, I don't care. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a year. Maybe in ten. Right now, I only care that you're alive."

“I—What—I don’t—” Essek stuttered, lifting and then lowering his hands a few times. “I don’t know how— If I can—Fuck.”

There was a joke on the tip of his tongue, but even he knew that this wasn’t the right time for it. Essek was obviously trying to tell him something and it took him a minute to decipher that strange behaviour. “Are you asking for a hug?” he hazarded a guess.

An agonised expression passed over his face and for a moment Verin thought there were tears gathering in his brother’s eyes. Surely not. “I don’t know if I may. I don’t mean to overstep—”

Without further ado, Verin stepped forward and gathered a yelping Essek up and squeezed him tightly. “Of course you may!” he assured him, awkwardly patting his shaking shoulders. “I love you, Essek. I am very glad that you’re alive.”

“I’m very glad to see you, too,” Essek answered and squeezed him a little tighter.

[irenes-journal]

Okay, MCD Aaron, I have some feelings. Have some on Mystreet Aaron too, but this is for MCD Aaron only.

I’m just gonna give the warning that this is technically a “negative” post. I’d like to think I’m more critical than negative but just in case wanted to write this :)

Fun fact, Aaron is probably historically the character I’ve drawn the most. Which is strange, seeing as he never was my favorite in any capacity, and I had no personal attachment to him like some of the other characters. But just because I drew him so much in the past, doesn’t mean I still like him.

While rewatching most of season two recently, I realized that Aaron (to me) felt like a Garroth replacement and reading other people’s thoughts, Vylad. If this blog tells you anything about me, it’s that I love the Ro’meaves. And maybe that’s why I saw the similarities between Aaron and Garroth initially.

What I mean by “Aaron felt like Garroth’s replacement” here are where their stories feel very similar to me:

Both of them have a plotline revolving around a town, death, and hiding their identity. Garroth’s was because he faked his death to avoid marriage. To make sure no one found out, he hid his face. Aaron was the lord of Falcon Claw, in which his whole village was killed by Zane’s actions. Due to this, he covered his face and sealed his identity. Once realizing Aphmau is trustworthy, they both reveal their faces.

The possible romance of Garroth and Aphmau was pushed in season one. The possible romance of Aaron and Aphmau was pushed in season two.

Garroth and Aaron are both biological holders of divine relics. Granted with this factored in, it puts them in the position of rivals instead of filling the same role. But in the story of Irene, the position they rivaled for was that of Irene’s lover.

They both played a mystery figure too, due to that identification hiding. That point runs more into Aaron’s similarly with Vylad, another character who seals their identity and covers their face in the process with a link to lordship and death. Vylad though, a shadow knight and never in the line to actually be lord, puts him in a different category. Their similarities run through the sealing of identity due to what their identity is, and information.

Vylad from the moment of MCD’s existence played the mystery helpful figure. He covered his face and sealed his identity due to being Vylad Ro’meave, the “dead” illegitimate son of the Ro’meave family. He provided all sorts of info to the main group of characters, or gave them key things along the way.

Aaron did the same thing. He saved Aphmau from werewolves and left without saying a word. He provided valuable information to the group.

The thing about Aaron is that he felt unnecessary. The role he played was filled already, but the people in that role got pushed out of it to pull him into the forefront. Part of this is my own personal opinion though. Seeing as I love the dynamic of the Ro’meaves, I would rather have them fill their initial role instead of there being a new character.

I also feel like Aaron’s character, for someone who was a character (that was at least known of by the viewers) for about a season’s worth of episodes, had no development. I believe that to be how much he fills the role of two already known characters, so they thought he didn’t need that development because you could figure out his intentions already.

His relationship with Aphmau felt rushed, especially the romantic part. He can finally trust her and then all of a sudden she’s pregnant with his baby and he’s dead. Jess made a statement on how their relationship was mostly off screen due to “mature themes.” That did nothing but destroy Aaron’s possible development, as much of his development as a character and in a relationship with Aphmau happened off screen. That is why I believe Aarmau comes off as shocking and/or rushed. We never saw them grow together, unlike someone like Garroth and Aphmau.

Aaron never had a role special to him that makes him stand out in some capacity. He doesn’t even fit in the atmosphere of MCD, as his appearance is more modern urban while in a medieval fantasy world. He stylistically didn’t fit.

I personally feel if Garroth didn’t stay in the Irene Dimension and Vylad played a bigger role, Aaron would either find a different/new role or cease to exist. What role would he play? Not sure. But if Aaron was developed in a way that allowed him to be more unique, he could have been better suited for the story of MCD.

[rollercoasterwords]

what's the deal with mcd?

ok i am pondering mcd this afternoon (three guesses why) and my sister (foolishly) made an offhand comment that just sent me back into my swamp of thoughts which was "unlike some people i don't enjoy feeling pain for no reason" -- in reference to reading fics with mcd.

so here i am once again to write my silly little essays on tumblr, bc like...why do i like mcd??

and when i say i like mcd, i mean i really like it. i am an avid mcd enjoyer. when mcd is done well, it quite literally stays with me forever and just...nothing else quite compares. i'm the kind of person who will hear something has mcd and be like "ok NOW i'm interested." yknow? like i love a good main character death. 

at the same time, i don't think of myself as a particularly masochistic person. maybe i'm kidding myself, but i don't think i'm drawn to mcd solely because i enjoy reading things that will hurt me (although...ok yeah maybe that's part of it). but like. ok hang on this is going to get both personal + philosophical but for ME, personally, i think i am very much drawn to stories that eschew 'happily-ever-afters.' 

like. i could get into this more but for now i will just say that i am very much skeptical of societal obsession with happy endings and futures. this idea that there's a light at the end of the tunnel, that the present moments in our lives only matter if we're using them to work towards an imaginary future where everything is somehow better and happier...i understand why those things bring comfort, and obviously i'm not like, immune to it. i think about the future as much as anyone else, i do things now because i hope they will make things better later, etc etc. BUT this overarching narrative of like...your life has meaning because one day you will find your happy ending just doesn't resonate with me. i don't believe in it. i need to find meaning in other ways and other places.

mcd pushes back against the happy ending narrative, in a lot of ways. obviously, many stories still end happily or hopefully because we as readers crave catharsis. but there is just something about following along with a character's death and following along with those left behind to grieve them that essentially holds a mirror up to our own mortality, to the fragility of our own hope for happily-ever-afters. like...yeah. we're human. we die. that's it. (maybe u believe in an afterlife--u do u! i don't tho). and life is beautiful and messy and painful because we get the moments we have, and that's it--they don't get banked for some imaginary future. we have the time we have, and...idk i'm probably just talking in circles but something about confronting that idea head on just makes life feel so much more beautiful and precious to me. fuck eternity, and fuck happily ever afters. why does it matter if there's a happy ending? the end is the end either way. 

and i think aside from that i am also just very drawn to the stories of those characters who live past the mcd, who are left behind to mourn. as someone who had to spend a lot of time figuring out how to keep going after trauma, reading about characters who are learning to live with their grief just...idk. it's important to me. it's special to me. grief is a part of love just the same as happiness -- it's all love, and it's all human, and...idk, maybe i am just a little bit masochistic at the end of the day. but isn't there something beautiful about knowing we can feel so deeply, and survive it? like...that's what life is!!! that's what meaning is!!! i am gnashing my teeth

[caitybug]

It may be February but... why not haha. 

Below the cut, organized in chronological order, are the fics I wrote in 2020! All put into one place :D. Thank you to everyone who read, kudos’d, commented, beta’d, and supported my writing. It was my first ever year writing fanfiction, and I am so thankful for all the friends I’ve made because of it.

<3 <3

If Not For You

Word count: 92,461 Chapters: 36 Rating: M

Summary:

Simon was born and raised in the midwest, and he thinks he has his life figured out. He has a girlfriend that he feels happy with, is excited to drive for his junior year, and can't wait to get away from his father when he goes away for school.

However, this all changes when his mom dies and he is carted to the east coast to start at a boarding school. Simon then has to deal with having a roommate (who hates him), living with his mother's death, and wanting to be anywhere but where he is.

To add to it all, one day he gets a strange phone call, and he wonders if his mother's death was really an accident at all.

author’s note:

This was my first like actual fic. And my first try at writing something. This fic will always have a special place in my heart because it helped lead me to all the amazing people I now call friends <3

Not only that but it was a bit of therapy for me. (Self insert? In MY fanfiction? More likely than you’d think!)

Anyway, whenever someone comments, leaves kudos, or otherwise acknowledge that the fic exists I get emotional haha. I also have like three playlists for it too haha.

The Heist

Word Count:7456 Rating:T

Summary:

It's the fourth year of the Halloween heist, and Baz is determined to win. He thinks he has it all planned, that he knows Simon Snow through and through.

Despite this, somehow Simon still manages to surprise him.

author’s note:

b99 AU bahaha. Need I say more??

Pay Your Fines, Snow

Word Count: 1524 Rating: T

Summary:

Baz Pitch works at the local library every summer. He's annoyed at kids who run around, people who don't follow directions, and Simon Snow- who can't pay a fine on time.

author’s note

This fic was the first of the fics that sparked all my crazy prompts haha. It was so much fun to do! 

There is a wonderful podfic of this made by the amazing and beautiful @xivz​, and it also has art now by @peachpit-gabe!! Go check it out here. 

A Rebirth

Word Count: 3374 Rating: T

Summary:

Simon and Baz need to finish their presentation for their Art History class. However, Baz also got pulled into watching his younger siblings for the weekend.

Frozen 2, chicken nuggets, sword fights, and themes of Renaissance.

author’s note

I wrote this for the amazing @krisrix as a prompt! It was so much fun to do and I legit wrote the whole thing in like one afternoon and had it looked over and posted it haha. I still feel bad because Kris legit asked for babies and I kicked the babies out at the beginning of the fic LOL. 

Coming Together in Three Parts

Word Count: 4639 Rating: M Chapters: 3

Summary:

Three snippets of their lives after Wayward Son.

author’s note:

The summary definitely leaves a lot to be imagined haha. But I decided to pull a @ninemagicks and give a metaphor of threes and I love yous. So it’s three lovely stages after Wayward Son. There’s the I Love You, the moving in, and then a marriage proposal. I was fairly proud of this! And I did this as an exchange fic as well. 

The Three Acts of a Wizard

Word Count: 6439 Rating: T

Summary:

Today, Baz is giving Simon a reprieve (or, that's what he is telling Simon.)

Cue a removal of cursed body parts, a grumpy fireplace who *knows* what is happening, and a shrill frizzy-haired friend threatening to poison some scones.

(this is a remix fic for @ninemagicks​ HMC AU YWSAFS

author’s note:

I wrote this for Nena’s birthday in the summer! Their friendship has meant the world to me, and this story is what I think gave me the gall courage to message them and harass them with 2k word comments/metas haha. If you’ve not read their fic, make sure to do so!

Heaven is a Place on Earth

Word Count: 12,711 Rating: M Chapters: 5 Summary:

Five hours each week. That's all Simon and Baz get.

But we know that's all they need to fall in love...

~~

A San Junipero AU

author’s note:

This fic idea came to me randomly and I literally wrote it in a week. I love it so much, and despite being MCD I think it’s still generally happy (I mean.. they do end up together??) Idk, it has a special place in my heart. And I made @krisrix read Baz with an american accent so... win win haha. 

(Un)Sexy Saturday

Word Count: 6157 Rating: M/E Chapters: 9 (they’re different stories each chapter.)

Summary:

Summaries vary by chapter. Overall it’s just a collection of silly stories where sex gets interrupted. 

author’s note:

Honestly this series was so fun to do. I need to continue it sometime! From beauty blender butt plugs, to swingers, to garlic allergies... it just makes me laugh haha. 

5 Times Simon Wanted a Fistbump, and the 1 Time He Finally Got It

Word Count: 5489 Rating: T Chapters: 6

Summary:

Simon Snow hasn't had a lot of friends in his life. He has Penny, who is great, of course. He has Baz (but does he count as a friend?)

So now, seeing Shepard, he's got a chance at a friend. A bro of sorts.

Simon sees the final hurdle in their friendship to be a fist bump. A simple signal of their friendship.

But how long is it going to take to get it??

~~

5 + 1 Yearning for a Fist Bump.

author’s note:

Simpard. Friendship. And art by @nick-eyre?? Perfection. 

A Goblin’s Skull, Maccies, and a Door Handle

Word Count: 2017 Rating: T

Summary:

Simon Snow wakes up in a building he doesn't know, tied up and blindfolded.

Luckily his best bro Shepard is there too.

author’s note:

Wrote this as a little bday treat for @nick-eyre :D. Decided to give Simon a friend who would also lust after goblins with him haha. 

One Word, Four Letters, A Lifetime's Worth of Pain: IKEA

Word Count: 2428 Rating: T

Summary:

Baz comes home and notices the house is suspiciously quiet.

When he finds Simon, surrounded by unfinished pieces of furniture, he can't help but ask... why?

Author’s note:

This was written as a birthday gift for @foolofabookwyrm! She is an absolute gem and has never been to IKEA, but now I hope she understands the struggle of building IKEA furniture haha. 

The Beat of My Heart

Word Count: 2230 Rating: T

Summary:

Simon is kneeling on the ground, waiting for Baz to come home.

He has a question. One he's wanted to ask for a while.

author’s note:

This was written as a birthday gift for @krisrix! A little proposal fic for the rat king <3 <3

Out of My Mind

Word Count: 10876 Rating: M Chapters: 3

Summary:

Baz and Simon are living their lives, domestic and content. They have a nine-year-old daughter, a Sunday morning routine, and plans to be alone for the first time for a while.

But when a girl who is growing into her powers reads something she shouldn't, they get into a predicament they don't expect.

author’s note:

This was a COE gift for @krisrix! Body Swap! Parents! Married! I tried to do it all for him haha. 2020 was really the year where I was like yeah, let’s write Kris a million fics. And honestly—wouldn’t have it any other way.

Imposter vs Crewmates

Word Count: 754 Rating: T

Summary:

Everyone has their quarantine coping strategies.

Simon tried to bake bread.

Baz watched Twilight.

But Penelope...

She introduced the gang to Among Us.

author’s note:

Look. I’ve no excuses for this lolol. Just thought it’d be silly :D. 

The Ethics of Wanting You

Word Count: 1417 Rating: T

Summary:

Simon Snow realized recently that he has a crush on Baz.

Penny suggested he find reasons to spend more time with him, so he suggests a study session for their ethics exam the following day.

(It doesn't go as planned, but the result is very much worth it.)

author’s note:

Birthday gift for @peachpit-gabe <3 <3. Just a cute one shot with snowbaz.

Pumpkin, Let’s Make a Patch

Word Count: 2516 Rating: T

Summary:

Simon Snow is trying to create a neighborhood pumpkin patch.

Baz, unknowingly, rips the pumpkins out of his front lawn.

(How will he make it up to him?)

author’s note:

This was done for the COC. I based it off this cute tiktok series with this kid who rode around on his skateboard and plants pumpkins around his neighborhood.

Weathering the Storm

Word Count: 2248 Rating: T

Summary:

Shepard was nine when he first met a boy he'd learn was Simon Snow.

He was in a ditch crying, and Shepard wasn't sure what to make of him.

This boy lived in his mind until he saw him again years later.

And today, when there's a storm unlike any other in London, he knows who must be at the center of it.

author’s note:

Honestly. This is probably one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. IDK. It’s so short but... I love it. And if you like to listen to fics— @bloodiedpixie did a phenomenal podfic of it! And @nick-eyre did AMAZING art for it too <3. 

New Beginnings

Word Count: 2090 Rating: T

Summary:

It's the first New Years Eve after the Christmas that changed everything.

After Simon Snow and Baz kissed.

After they defeated the humdrum.

After the Mage's death.

But, as many of us do, it's time to take the New Year as an opportunity to begin anew.

author’s note:

Part of a server exchange I did for @knitbelove :D. 

And, all of the prompts I’ve yet to put on ao3... lolol

[sothischickshe]

2, 6, 15

ty!!

2: Do you focus on attention to detail when you read fics? Are you more or less attention to detail focussed when you write fics?

i am not completely sure i understand the question but like ok: i reckon im def more detail-focus(s)ed when i write (or rather edit) my own fics than when im reading-for-enjoyment. cos editing tends to involve a lot of re-reading and essentially red lining and fixing/moving/cutting stuff etc and that all involves attending to detail, right?

im def less purposefully attendant to stuff like that when im reading elsewise, but it's not like i can cut my brain out of my head so i willlllll probs notice, say, incorrect apostrophe usage or w/e 

but in a wider sense, i mean... yea i certainly hope i pay attention to like story details when im reading lol! im not one for taking notes as i read bc i feel like that would take me out of the enjoyment of the story? and i guess it can be a bit mood/circumstance-dependent? sometimes im very swept away in the story and/or language and/or ~mood. i think im prettttttty good at noting like plot or character details, in terms of having an understanding of what might crop up later? (but i find i tend to get more out of stuff on reread or rewatch ofc also.)

so in conclusion... well, what IS a detail yknow? is it a comma or a character putting things down in btwn picking up some next thing, or an implication of an unreliable narrator or assonance or...???? 

i think im quite a detail-oriented person generally, so i'd broadly say im fairly detail-focused when writing (well, editing more but yea) fics but there'll be types of details i wouldnt focus on naturally, and maybe THOSE are exactly the details i'll be impressed by/focus on when im reading something!!!

6: What are some topics you will never write about?

so, i wrote a lil list, although im not sure i can commit to this 'never' concept... i also think this is a v dangerous q for me, lol. i get very ornery... i think the hilarious mcd + non-con fic i have planned came out of me claiming i'd be unlikely to write sthn like that & then my brain was like oh is it???? yea??? FUCK U. so like...please dont make me engage with this too long..............i cant add an extremely disturbing tax drama to my tbw list.....pls........ i have enough problems............................

15: Which fic that you’ve written relates to you and your personal life the most?

ooh! ok, i think i could make a reasonable argument for most if not all of them butttt maybe around here we say birds not bitches (the bringlish pov cr*ckfic)?????

writing americans when you're not one is SO hard & i got to have so much fun inserting a ridiculous headcanon!!!

(i am taking the approach that my writing and/or watching life IS my personal life...cos it is innit)

ficas(k)

[mi6-cafe]

HERE ARE THE DRABBLES FOR WEEK 2!

Ready to READ&VOTE?!

Well, let’s refresh your memory first.

This week our competitors were asked to write exactly 200 angsty words inspired by the phrase: ” to strive, to seek, to find, but not to yield ”

HOW DO YOU VOTE?

Read all the drabbles. (they’re below the line)

Choose three that you like the most.

Fill out this VOTING FORM, telling us your favourites. (You can even leave anonymous feedback for the author).

NOTE: If you are a competitor, you CANNOT vote for your own fic. But please, do vote. :)

The voting period ends at 11:59 PM EST on Sunday night. Results will be posted and anonymous feedback will be emailed on Monday.

#1

Title: Sisyphean Author: Anyawen Warnings: MCD (Major Character Death) Summary: Cause. And effect.

He had refused to give up when the signal was lost. If there were the slightest chance, the smallest trace, he would find and make use of it. He wrestled with technology, fought bureaucracy, and ignored his own limits. Like Orpheus, he followed a trail gone dark and cold to find the hell where his beloved was held. A team already en route for rescue, he activated a camera. Like Orpheus, his love was lost as he laid eyes on him. An indicator light on the camera blinked to life, betraying their surveillance, and they gained visuals only to watch his agent's execution. Unlike Orpheus when he lost his Eurydice, he did not fall prey to despair. He would not betray his lover's memory or dishonor his sacrifice by pining away. He channeled his grief into ingenuity, political savvy, fierce protectiveness, and an icy, vengeful fury. He focused on the interests of the country for which his lover had given his life, and the other agents who continued to risk everything in that same service. He would do everything in his power to keep them safe and bring them home. Gods have mercy on any who tried to stop him.

#2

Title: Savvy Author: stormofsharpthings Warnings: no Archive warnings apply Summary: Bond is missing...

He couldn’t find James.

He’d often had to remind the newer techs that the double-oh agents might play dumb to get out of filing reports but the nature of their job these days required them to be almost as computer-savvy as Q Branch themselves. And Bond was more skilled than most, though he kept it quiet. So an unaccustomed panic threatened to overwhelm him the longer James was missing.

There was no trace despite hours of desperate searching through surveillance footage. He’d even hacked into dashboard-camera databases online. Bond had walked into that bloody meeting and all electronics had gone dark.

“If he were dead, there’d be a body!” he’d shouted at M. Other agents were out looking, but there was no evidence at the location. If Bond had been abducted, there was no rescue possible yet. Q refused to think of torture.

James would leave a sign...somehow...somewhere...if he could.

In frantic desperation, Q started checking logs of internet-connected devices. A smart bulb in an industrial warehouse was reporting an intermittent error, probably from faulty wiring, but Q mapped the errors and times from the online log and found a rough pattern: long long short long. Morse code for Q.

#3

Title: Blind Author: SouffleGirl91 Warnings: None. Summary: He couldn’t see.

He couldn’t see.

He needed to find them, but he couldn’t see.

Fear. A fist, seizing his heart. Squeezing his chest until all he could feel was sheer panic. Struggling to breathe.

A hundred scenarios ran through his mind, a warning of what might happen if he failed. Cyber attacks going unprevented. Terrorist attacks unthwarted. Agents dead. All because of him.

Because the Quartermaster wasn’t at his post.

He needed to find them. The Quartermaster needed to return to his post.

But he couldn’t see.

Where were they? All the intel said they would be here. They must be here. They had to be.

What if they weren’t?

How would he explain?

What would he say when M asked him why the Quartermaster was missing?

There was no other option, he had to find them. He couldn’t give up.

But he couldn’t see.

Blindly, he reached out, feeling around. His fingers brushed over the debris of a life interrupted. He recoiled as his hand came into contact with a pool of liquid. Still warm.

Oh, God!

More urgently now, he sought, knocking things aside. There wasn't enough time!

There!

Q put on his glasses, finally ready to face the day.

#4

Title: Tennyson Author: sorion Warnings: - Summary: Bond loves more easily than he would like to.

‘Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.

"What utter nonsense," Bond said, drink in hand. It wasn't his first. Nor his second.

If he could travel back in time, he'd choose not to love. Every time.

Love brought him nothing but betrayal and pain. How could loving and losing be better than never loving in the first place? He wouldn't be blind to the inevitable betrayal (and death) without love.

Today's reason for the drinks was that time travel didn't exist, and Bond had once more been confronted with the frustrating fact that he couldn't not love, time and again. Much as he would have liked to.

"Just how drunk are you?" someone asked, sidling up to his solitary spot at the bar.

'Not drunk enough to purge you from my system,' Bond thought. Despite his best efforts and iron will, he made the mistake of lifting his head, meeting questioning but undemanding eyes.

Reflected in those eyes, he found the truth that love was as much his constant companion as death. Neither weakness nor enemy, but the backbone of his very nature.

"Perhaps... 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world."

#5

Title: Hunger Author: sunaddicted Warnings: canon typical violence, toxic relationships Summary: the truth hurts more than a bullet wound He pursed his lips, eyes contemplating the ruin spread out at his feet: his life, his career, his dreams - everything lay shattered on the ground, all of his hard work and his striving aspirations turned to dust. "Hungry - you were always hungry for more than you can chew, clever boy" Q pursed his lips, refusing to look at the other - stubbornly staring out at the moors, fog slowly raising from the earth like poisonous vapours "It's your fault, Raoul" "Shut up" "It wasn't the plan!" "¡Callate!" Suddenly there was the cold circle of a gun's barrel pressed in the middle of his forehead - so icy that it almost burned against his skin. Q swallowed, tightening his hands in fists that would do nothing to protect him from a bullet straight to the brain "She doesn't give a shit about you, she never has" Raoul sneered "And you do?" "Yes, I do" Raoul laughed, derisive and cruel: it hurt more than a bullet ever would but Q wasn't giving up on him - he wasn't sure he could; yielding under pressure and escaping just wasn't an option, they were together for life, inextricably bound together. No matter how deadly Raoul's love was.

#6

Title: Lost and Found Author: Ksania / starrboned Warnings: implied canon-typical violence Summary: James made a promise he couldn't keep.

James finds him kneeling in the ruins, a dark silhouette against the fiery sky.

His sword makes a quiet "slink!" as he unsheathes it, flaring in the dying light. The blade's pale as it kisses Q's neck.

"Hello, James," Q says. "I hoped it would be you who'd find me."

Waves clash beneath them, salt heavy in the air.

"Nothing to say?" Q asks. "You always were a man of few words."

"They're coming," James breathes, watching as Q rises to his feet, turning.

His eyes are bloodshot, face pale. Black cloak hanging from skinny shoulders. A shadow of the man who held James's heart.

"James." Q cracks a smile. "You promised."

Once upon a time, when they were a Queen's mage and her knight.

James grips his sword, knuckles white.

He lets the blade drop. "I'm not killing you."

"You must." Q takes a step closer. "You know what she'll do -"

Footsteps approach. James pulls Q into his arms.

"Then we both die!" Q hisses, clutching at his cloak. "And everything was for naught!"

"So be it," James smiles, kissing him. "We both knew it was going to end this way."

Q sighs. "They're here."

James raises his sword.

#7

Title: Adamant Author: IrishWitch58 (captain-magicalkitty) Warning: Effects of violence Summary: Q ponders the similarities between himself and 007

The monitors beeped steadily, monotonously. Q hated the sound that screamed the fallibility of his systems, that made him face the ways in which he couldn't keep his agents safe. He shifted in the chair, the same he had occupied for the past 10 hours. He was connected to his branch, overseeing ongoing activities but that mattered less than the silent battered figure in the hospital bed. James had once again both succeeded and failed in that spectacular fashion that made him the best MI6 had. The mission goal had been accomplished but the medical evac had been a skin of the teeth exercise. More damage done, more scars. Bond's resume was written clearly on his body, scars upon scars marring the skin Q valued more than his own. Q acknowledged that his technological efforts could only do so much. It was the indomitable spirit of the man that was at issue. His nature was to push beyond the known and see for himself and to never give in to circumstance. In his own way, Q was the same, which was why he would sit and wait and plan how to avoid the next disaster, as unyielding as any agent.

#8

Title: The End Author: Venstar Warnings: angst(?) Summary: farewells.

It was all coming to a close with this next mission. It was a death trap. Once he went in, there was no coming out.

“Duty calls, I must go.”

“That's bollocks.”

007 smiled down at Q and brushed a finger across his chin and down his jaw. “This will be your first resurrection to witness, won’t it? Every story has an ending.”

“There’s only one 007 in my books.”

007 laughed at the jokes Q valiantly made with effort.

Q’s eyes narrowed and his lips compressed into a straight line. “I’ll find a way to get you back.”

“Seek and you will not find me,” Bond whispered, “It will be a new 007 when you finally yield to the inevitable.”

“Never!”

“So they replace me and they will replace you.”

Q shook his head. “We could leave. Would that be so terrible?”

007 looked at Q with pity in his eyes. “That would be treasonous.”

“It’s not like you’ve never skipped town before!” Q blurted out, his cheeks red.

“I am no traitor.”

“No, you’re a loyal dog. Now I understand why M kept that hideous thing on her table.” Q spat his words at 007’s feet.

“Goodbye, Q.”

#9

Title: Never Yielding Author: iambid (flantastic) Warnings: None Summary:  James is bullish, Q just wants him to stop.

Q waited for him outside M’s office.

“What the hell, Bond?”

James didn’t miss a step as he carried on down the corridor forcing Q to trot to keep up with him.

“James!  Talk to me!” He pleaded.

James stopped abruptly and whirled around.

“About what?  What exactly would you like to talk about?”  

“This!”  Q responded hotly, gesturing.  “Why are you going back out into the field?”

“Because they need me.” James snapped.

“But I thought…”

“What exactly?  That a gunshot wound would put me out of action permanently?  That I would want to spend the rest of my days hanging around your house like some kind of rescue dog?  I have a job to do, Quartermaster.”

He went to turn but Q grabbed his wrist.

“What about us?”  Q asked quietly.

“There is no us.” James said and then, when he saw the hurt in Q’s eyes, he added; “It was a dream.  Thank you for taking me in and taking care of me, but it can’t continue.” He looked down at Q’s hand, still resting on his wrist, and regretfully shook it off.  “People like me don’t deserve people like you,” he said sadly before walking away.

#10

Title: ghost Author: azure7539 Warnings: none Summary: Question and answer.

-

What went wrong?

By the time he arrives, there’s nothing of value left. He takes in the sight of the cramped room—one bare mattress in the corner, energy bar wrappings pushed into a pile, empty water bottles strewn around the floor—and stops at the coffee table. The near humid scent of cigarettes lingers in the air, unseen but winds like spidery gossamer, spooling from the crushed fags in that full ashtray next to an abandoned laptop.

His eye twitches.

Barely gone but not within chasing distance, his mind grudgingly concludes, and he sits down on the cracked tiles with a grunt. Despite the Caribbean sun flaring outside an unrelenting spot of heat as it pierced in through the windows, the place sustains a perpetual coolness that settles on his shoulders a phantom weight.

Really, he should worry more about potential booby traps in the laptop, but the thought doesn’t even stir his apprehension, and he opens it anyway.

The words he finds on the screen seize his breath before flickering back into an empty void.

His earpiece crackles to life with a hissing fit. “Status report.”

“He’s gone,” Bond growls, shutting the device with a harsh click.

/I went wrong./

#11

Title: The Perfect Gift Author: Shush_MummyWriting Warnings: None Summary: "to strive, to seek, to find, but not to yield."

The moment he saw her, he knew she was perfect.

Madelaine was not just beautiful, but brave, smart and had a backbone of steel. Knowing her background, she was the ideal partner for an old warhorse like James Bond.

Q felt the tiny flame that had been nurtured by every bit of banter, every special look sent his way, every promise extracted, compounded by every risk he had taken for Bond, flicker and die.

When he returned to his favourite workstation in the bowels of Q Branch, the information he had requested from the Archives had already arrived. Q had followed Bond’s career even before their first official meeting and as he looked over the old blueprints, he realised this would be the perfect farewell gift for Bond.

Besides, it would make an excellent project for the Garage minions. With a little creative accounting, sketches already flowing from his fingers to his screen, he would pour every ounce of his brilliance into the DB5 and it would be ready when Bond got back.

Then Q would be able put all those inconvenient feelings behind him and say good-bye to James Bond, with a smile, like the friend that he was.

#12

Title: 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world Author: scarytheory Warnings: mention of character death, depression Summary: James's got his happily ever after with Madeleine. Still – he's struggling every day.

...you should know-

James wakes up from a nightmare, panicking, trying to catch his breath. Madeleine is used to it by now. She just whispers ‘you're safe, you're home’, still half-asleep. But he gets up and pours himself some whisky because he doesn't know what home means anymore.

Everything is blurred. Maybe he made the wrong choice. Even though she's here, and he loves her.

But he's still thinking about that phone call. It's been six months, and he can't stop thinking about it.

“Q died. I thought you should know.”

Wrong home.

More whisky.

And more nightmares.

There is a weird inner ache that James can't even name; he is too afraid to do so. A little bit of it belongs to Madeleine because they can't be happy together; it will never be enough. It's also about Q because James failed him. He knew and he left anyway, left everything that could have been.

But mostly it's about James himself. Because he's so tired and scared to go back and fight again. But in the end, he knows that he will do what he always does.

Not yield.

Not yet.

Even though the whisky is burning in his throat.

#13

Title: Unyielding Author: AtoTheBean Warnings: None Summary: Q will hate that fucking poem for the rest of his life...

“You’re going to lose him.”

“I’m not,” Bond grunts over the comms.  

“Repositioning 006 to intercept,” Q replies, signaling to R.

He looks back at the screen to find Bond has stolen a motorbike.

“007, stand down.  The plaza’s too crowded.”

“All the more reason to stay with the bomb.”

Q sighs, switching screens to an aerial view.  Bond’s so stubborn since his return.

Though, not at first.  At first he was accommodating… practically deferential….  And Q was unyielding in his anger.  It’s taken months to find their rapport... for Q to acknowledge they still make a good team, ignoring the dull ache of what else he wishes they might be.

“Approaching the bridge.”

“I see you,” Q says, refocusing.  

“Good place to douse a bomb...”

“But how would…” Cold dread fills Q. 007 is still fast, but even he acknowledges his reaction times have slowed...

The motor revs. “'We're not now that strength which in old days—’.”

“James Bond, don’t you dare quote Tennyson at me!”

Q watches Bond grab the mark—

“JAMES!”

—and hurl them both off the bridge.  He hears the rush of wind, a splash, and then static.

The water-muffled explosion on the screen is silent.

#14

Title: The Balad of Sir Bond Author: ladymars Warnings: Implied Major Character Death Summary: A prince seeks for his knight.

Lady Moneypenny, from her kneel and still wearing her tattered armor, presented a scrap of burnt fabric to her prince. "This is all we found of him, Your Highness." Cold ice ran through the prince's veins. His breath left him. "No, that can't be..." "I saw him go into that cave myself," the knight interrupted, her voice tight, "I told him we should return, call for reinforcements, but he pushed inside." "Stubborn bastard..." Sir Bond had escaped from dire situations, deadly situations, returned to life with a smirk, a swagger, and the head of their enemy in hand (never his sword, of course, always losing and breaking those), but from a man-eating monster? Of course he's stupid enough to jump in without hesitation. Something pushed the prince up from his throne and to his feet. He staggered as if grief had possessed him and moved his limbs like the automatons he assembled, a yearning pulling him forward. "I'll find him. He's out there. I'll search the ends of the world for him." Moneypenny paled. "But sir—" "No!" His voice did not sound like his own, strangled and high. "He's out there!" A fury flickered in his eyes. "I'll never yield."

__

Thank you all for writing these wonderful drabbles!

Thank you all for voting and making this properly fun!

Here is the post announcing the winners.

[mthofferings2020]

Rise Up Ting Ting Like Glitter/Wiggle

See Rise Up Ting Ting Like Glitter/Wiggle’s existing works here.

Preferred contact methods: Email: dunhamdeplume@gmail.com Discord: Rise Up Ting Ting Like Glitter#1703 Tumblr: Rise-Up-Ting-Ting-Like-Glitter

Preferred organizations: - Anything from the list of approved organizations

Will create works that contain: I’m good for most AUs or Canon Divergence. I’m better for second degree AUs (royalty, fairy tale, assassins, space pirates, warlords) than I am for first degree (coffee shop, college). Plotty fics are my bread and butter. I’m good for T-E ratings and have no problem with PWP, though I reserve the right to nope out of any individual kinks. -best to talk to me first if you want something porny! Give me a plot to wrap it around or let me loose and I’m all about: BAMF Tony, Angst with a happy ending, power imbalance with a happy ending, arranged marriage, forced proximity (snowed-in, magically bonded, oops handcuffs) zombie apocalypse, A/B/O, getting together/falling in love, shifters/supernatural creatures, crack played straight, fake relationships, the Winter Soldier as a separate personality, bodyguards! MUTUAL PINING. If you’re not sure if I’m into something please contact me! My DMs are yours to invade!

Will not create works that contain: Fix-its, unrequited feelings, large age-gaps (supernatural reasons ie. vampires or super soldier serum reasons are fine), High school AUs, unhappy endings, major archive warnings (temporary, or otherwise limited MCD is worth contacting me about!), cheating/infidelity, kidfic/babyfic/pregnancy fic/deaged very young fic. I’m not ready for anything historical.

  -- Fic or Other Writing --

Auction ID: 1124

Will create works for the following relationships: Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark - MCU Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark/Winter Soldier - MCU

Work Description: I’m offering a minimum of 5k fic which is unlikely to exceed 20k. I confess, a good plot could run longer. I’m flexible, so any level of input from you will likely work for me. If you have a plot in advance, it’s always best to confirm it with me, but I’ll do my best to work in your favourite tropes and any kinks I’m comfortable with. I’m happy to brainstorm with you or let you loose in the wilds of my idea/WIPs folder if you aren’t pre-armed with something you’d like to see. If you need a place to start, I’m looking for an excuse to write warlord Tony with tribute Bucky, OR Bucky and Tony falling in love during a zombie apocalypse in space, OR any flavour of Sentinel/Guide AU. So if these things, or things like them, might be up your alley, I’m your purveyor of words. Let’s talk fusion fic! If you have movies/shows that you’d like to see retold with our favourite ship, contact me! If I’m familiar with the movie/show in question, I’m sure we can make it work! If you’re interested in WI+ pairings, (Stuckony, WIH, WIW etc.) I’m open to discussion! I adhere to the philosophy of getting a first draft into existence by any means necessary. As a result, I’m unlikely to have something cohesive to share until I’m well into the editing stages. If you’re cool with plenty of talk and random cleaned up snippets until the fic is almost ready to post, we’ll get along swimmingly. I’m also good to work entirely solo after the planning stages. Scheduling: I’ll be available for chatting/brainstorming immediately. However, I am unlikely to begin before January. Final length of the fic will determine delivery date.

Ratings: Teen, Mature, Explicit

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

-- Fic or Other Writing --

Auction ID: 2053

Will create works for the following relationships: Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark - MCU Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark/Winter Soldier - MCU

Work Description: I’m offering a minimum of 5k fic which is unlikely to exceed 20k. I confess, a good plot could run longer. I’m flexible, so any level of input from you will likely work for me. If you have a plot in advance, it’s always best to confirm it with me, but I’ll do my best to work in your favourite tropes and any kinks I’m comfortable with. I’m happy to brainstorm with you or let you loose in the wilds of my idea/WIPs folder if you aren’t pre-armed with something you’d like to see. If you need a place to start, I’m looking for an excuse to write warlord Tony with tribute Bucky, OR Bucky and Tony falling in love during a zombie apocalypse in space, OR any flavour of Sentinel/Guide AU. So if these things, or things like them, might be up your alley, I’m your purveyor of words. Let’s talk fusion fic! If you have movies/shows that you’d like to see retold with our favourite ship, contact me! If I’m familiar with the movie/show in question, I’m sure we can make it work! If you’re interested in WI+ pairings, (Stuckony, WIH, WIW etc.) I’m open to discussion. I adhere to the philosophy of getting a first draft into existence by any means necessary. As a result, I’m unlikely to have something cohesive to share until I’m well into the editing stages. If you’re cool with plenty of talk and random cleaned up snippets until the fic is almost ready to post, we’ll get along swimmingly. I’m also good to work entirely solo after the planning stages. Scheduling: I’ll be available for chatting/brainstorming immediately. However, I am unlikely to begin before January. Final length of the fic will determine delivery date.

Ratings: Teen, Mature, Explicit

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

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