#which is a feat considering how many wips I have on the go at the moment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

showrunnerihardlyknowher · 3 years ago

Text

Humans? Up MY Beanstalk? It's More Likely Than You Think!

AO3 Link

Danny's back on her bullshit and here to make everyone suffer with another WIP that's part of a fic trade with my beloved @hiddendreamer67 <3

Summary: I mean, Jack made it all sound so easy! Climb up the beanstalk a few times, steal enough riches to last himself ten life times, and live happily ever after as a heroic giant slayer with absolutely no repercussions.

Seriously, how hard can it be?

Aiden was no stranger to life events going from bad to worse at the drop of a hat, but more often than not he was able to go with the turbulent flow just enough to keep his head above water and out of any serious trouble. Such a feat was most evident in his adaptation to living within the labyrinth-like walls of the oversized castle he had foolishly sought refuge in weeks prior. Had it been weeks? Months, perhaps, or maybe only a handful of days. The passage of time was just as foreign to him as these massive surroundings, these massive people , and he didn’t have the gall to weasel his way towards an opening near the outside to gauge how high or low the sun was sitting in the strangely pink sky.

The irony was almost funny; where was that fool hearted bravery he had been swimming in when he first started his ascension up the winding stalk that sprouted who knows how many decades ago to reach its impressive height? He knew the stories of young boys trading cows for beans and getting far more than they bargained for. He knew it was down right suicidal to scale the plant in general given he hadn’t a lick of training when it came to climbing anything other than a ladder. The opportunity to live within a legend was too good to pass up, unfortunately. The flimsy promise of riches and adventure beyond his wildest dream outweighed the need to even consider how he was going to get back down from the towering growth when he was inevitably disappointed by the lack of golden eggs.

But he didn’t succumb to the thin air or fall to his death, and he wasn’t disappointed. If anything, he was given everything he envisioned. Almost everything. When he broke through the cloud line, he discovered the vine had tapered off in favor of clinging to a cliff side he was unaware even existed from below. Green tendrils served as almost a ladder to aid his climb up the mysterious rock formation until he was able to pull himself, huffing and panting and muscles tingling from overuse, over the edge to collapse on horizontal land. So the fabled kingdom of riches didn’t actually rest on the clouds, it seemed. A small let down, but hardly anything worth dampening the mood as Aiden took in his new world view.

He felt as if he had switched places with a weevil seeing how the small patch of grass he was in came up to his chest rather than swishing against his ankles. The euphoria of this great new discovery once again drowned out the more rational side of him, favoring exploration over potential survival. The logistics of returning home could be dealt with later, after he had slayed a giant and stolen only a penny of its wealth that would no doubt provide for him for the rest of his life. Naive. Gullible. Fool hearted.

Aiden had only trekked for a few hours before nearly getting swallowed up by a winged beast he likened to a bat, washing away over the edge of the cliff in a stream, and getting trampled by hulking soldiers doing their rounds. Each close call he survived by the skin of his teeth, luck and adrenaline driving him blindly to find a moment of safety. However, with each incident his bravery withered away into trepidation, especially the closer he came to the giants that roamed the lands. None of them had noticed him yet and part of him wondered if they would ever notice something as miniature as him scurrying around, but he wasn’t feeling bold enough to stay out in the open just for their reaction. No, once he had slipped into the fortress of metal and stone, out of sight from any predator's eyes, the will to venture back out had faded into near nothingness.

If he had it his way, he doubted he would ever again have the gung ho to leave the confines of his newfound sanctuary, not even for the bittersweet desire of returning home. He had made his bed in his haste to seek glory out of tall tales and now he must lie in it. Though his heart ached with anxiety and his hands ceased to tremble, his traitorous stomach refused to let him continue a life of solitude amongst the dusty beams. A weaker part of him couldn’t help but wonder if it would be worth it to live with the gnawing pain until it eventually overtook him. A fitting end, would it not, to starve to death like a rat in the walls? Alas, he was weak, but not weak enough to endure such aggressive cramping by the end of the second day, and so he mustered all the strength and courage he could just to snatch a few stale breadcrumbs long forgotten behind what he assumed was a cast iron stove.

Aiden truly was living up to his new rodent lifestyle, wasn’t he.

It was disgusting, but it was food, and though it made him ill the remainder of the night it had at least provided him with enough energy to go back out the next night in an effort to find something an inch more sustainable. By the end of the week, his newly discovered drive to live had him exploring every corner of the expansive kitchen during the wee hours of the night, when no giants hurried back and forth between the counters and the galley to serve platters of meals that could have fed his own village for months at a time. The rich smell of hot breads and meats made him dizzy, even more so now that he was getting accustomed to surviving off of dusty scraps he found on the floor. He needed to play it safe, he reminded himself as he watched one of the chef’s throw out an entire pan of fresh loaves because there’s too many chives in this! It’s too bitter for his tastes! , hardly resisting the urge to dive into the bins after the wasted food.

But...if they were so keen as to throw away an entire batch of fully prepared food over the fact that it was unsuitable for one person’s palette...surely there was no harm in taking what would be considered a nibble. Not when it was unwanted.

There it was again, that fool hearted bravery. If only Aiden had used it to find a way out of this unofficial prisoner rather than fuel his greed. He couldn’t be happy with the bare minimum he was given, could he? Always had to push the boundaries when he knew exactly where they lied, always run headfirst towards danger and then act surprised when it would bite him in the ass moments later. At least this time around he had the forethought to formulate some type of a plan, as flimsy as it was. Having become quite familiar with the inner structures of the fortress, he was able to determine the abode he was in was something along the lines of a castle. It was certainly sprawling enough, decorated with dark colors and glittering riches and constantly bustling with workers ranging from lowly servants to chittering socialites. Whether or not this was indeed a house for royalty he was unsure, having never been able to pinpoint which of the ambling lords or ladies might be the esteemed ruler of the lands. Assuming monarchies even existed this high, that is. Perhaps this was merely the norm of their society’s standards. It was unlikely, but it wasn’t as if he had many outside resources to compare this way of life to, not even in the way of his own village.

In theory, the heist should have been easy. In theory . All he had to do was wait until the dead of night for the bustling kitchen to fall silent as it normally did and he could slip out from the crevice closest to the scraps bin. Scaling in and out of the bin might prove trickier than he anticipated, but that remained a problem for future Aiden. The most important part of his newfound mission was being able to fill his stomach up with day-old bread and cold meats before they were discarded for good. If all went well, this could easily become a nightly routine of his, a way to feast like a king whilst living like a rat within the true royalty’s walls. He knew he was getting ahead of himself with that kind of fantasizing, perhaps that was even the beginning of his downfall, but he had so little to look forward to these days that he dared to get his hopes up for a semi-decent meal.

He hadn’t even made it halfway across the counter before he was spotted and subsequently captured.

But he had been so careful , he lamented to himself when the air was roughly knocked from his lungs after a massive hand slammed on top of him, pinning any squirms. True, he reflected as the stars cleared his vision, he never actually bothered to see if the kitchen remained vacant all night given that he was asleep...but he just assumed! Who in the world would be up during this hour!? Someone else sneaking a snack, maybe, just as he was. He could use that to his advantage, try and gain a few sympathy points by connecting with the giant on that level, convince them that all he needed was just a fraction of whatever they were probably getting for themselves and he would be on his way for good. A lie, of course, but the giant didn’t need to know that.

Once more, that short lived plan would never be put to use when Aiden felt himself being lifted in the air within a bone crushing grip, metal and leather digging into him in various places from the glove the giant wore. His eyes barely adjusted from the dizzying movements and dim kitchen before they were blown open at the sight, constricted breathing still entirely for a heartbeat. This was no ordinary giant, not like the ones he had grown accustomed to glancing at from the nooks and crannies. At first glance, however, it did fit the bill for the most part -- biped, guard’s armor, a human face -- but...did these giants typically have glowing purple eyes? He couldn’t recall for certain, yet the more he looked the more he found that appeared off. The outline of the guard’s figure seemed...fuzzy, like they were blurred rather than a solid defining line. His face, harsh and scrutinizing, was greyer than a corpse. He was otherworldly, and it was at that moment Aiden was painfully reminded he was in another world, one he didn’t belong in. One he knew he would be leaving quickly.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the guard rumbled, his voice grating more like static than a growl.

“N-no…” Aiden agreed. Anything to get on his good side. “I’ll go, I’ll l-leave!”

Though he had found his voice, he had yet to find the strength to attempt any kind of struggle, not that he thought he’d be able to budge the massive fingers in the slightest. However, if he showed just how eager he was to depart from this situation, maybe the giant would believe him and grant him that small mercy. Instead, he was given another rough squeeze that made his spine pop, the fist clenching him raising higher so that he was more at eye level with his captor.

“How did you get in here, human? ” The guard spat. Good news was that humans were a known creature, at least. Bad news was that humans, apparently, were not known for any pleasant reason.

Aiden panted, trying to suck in a much needed breath after all of his were forced out. “I-I don’t know…” He squealed in discomfort when the fingers tightened again, refusing to let up until he gave a more satisfactory answer. “Th-the walls! I came through the walls! ”

The guard snorted and slackened his grip to allow an inch of breathing room, “Of course you did. Little pest that you and your kind are.”

“Wh...what are you…?” A bold question, but since he was sure it was to be one of his last, Aiden saw no reason not to ask.

He wasn’t given an answer, the giant instead lowering him slightly to exit the kitchen and pace down the halls. The scenery whizzed by so fast that it made his head spin, catching a few looks at other giants that were loitering about. Just like the guard, they were similar to the ones he would see in the daytime but...different. The two guards they passed looked to be of the same race of whatever the one holding him was, a noblewoman in a shimmering capelet eyed him suspiciously and he could have sworn her ‘capelet’ flittered before settling back down her shoulders. How had he never seen any of these attributes in the day? Then again, he often viewed the giants in the fortress at a distance and never for very long, they could have all been magically endowed for all he knew. Or, another theory, the ones he was coming across now were merely nocturnal and their more...normal housemates were sound asleep as he typically was while these creatures did their rounds and had their fun.

The wonderment was short lived when the giant shoved his way through a heavy wooden door at the very end of a lesser used corridor. With each step down the spiraling stone staircase, Aiden felt his heart sink just a little lower. The long shadows casting against the walls from the torches mounted to them gave the dank atmosphere an even more sinister vibe, leaving too many unknown things able to hide in the darkness. Even the guard, who did not appear to be an overly friendly fellow to begin with, looked twice as menacing with how the shadows concealed the few human features he did have. Aiden swallowed thickly, unsure of where they were heading but already knowing it wasn’t good.

His hunch was confirmed when the guard entered another hall, one lined with cramped cells that were partially occupied. He tried not to look at them and their fates, not wanting to see what might be awaiting him as well. Likely not, though. He was far too small to shackle and imprison. A different punishment would have to be in store for him. Further down the hall, the dungeon changed its holding cells from ones with iron bars to ones with solid steel doors instead, obscuring whatever poor bastard was locked within. Was that considered a crueler punishment? Perhaps that was where the torturing took place, if such types of creatures indulged in those acts. He saw no reason why they wouldn’t and as a result could very easily imagine himself being thrown in there next.

Fortunately, or not, the guard instead opened another wooden door that was adjacent to several of the isolated cells, coming to stand before another giant sitting at a table. Aiden couldn’t tell what was on the desk or what this new giant was using these unknown things for, but from the jist of it he must have been busy.

“Sir,” the guard holding him said while raising him higher for the presumably important one to see better. “A human has been found within the perimeter.”

The guard, a captain if Aiden were to guess, frowned. “Any others?”

“None that I could sense in the immediate area.”

He sighed and waved his hand. “We’ll do a sweep before daybreak. Who knows the amount of damage it’s done...what it’s taken, what it’s told.” He fixed Aiden with an icy glare that made the poor human try to shrink in on himself.

He wished he could have found a way to defend himself, plead his case, but his voice was nowhere to be found now. All cowardliness and no self preservation.

“And how shall I dispose of this one, sir?” The guard asked and Aiden paled. Dispose!?

The one in charge shrugged a shoulder and resumed what he was doing previously, fiddling with tools and books and papers for one reason or another. “Put it on lunch duty. Give the lizard another rat to keep him busy.”

Aiden didn’t quite follow the logic of the order. Lunch duty didn’t sound half as bad as being disposed of. The ‘lizard’ was news to him, but regardless the guard nodded at his order and left the office back down the corridor of steel doors. He wasn’t sure if he should speak up and ask for clarification while he mulled over his rather lenient sentencing, doubtful the giant would even regard him. From the looks of disgust and distrust he had been given numerous times in the short span of time he had been discovered, he could gather that his presence was an unwelcome one, though why he was still unsure. Evidently, he was going to be put to work and he could most certainly live with that. Earn his keep, he reasoned. Give rats to lizards or something. Would these rats and lizards be the same kind as the ones back on his homeworld down below or would they be to scale with the giants? Another question he should probably speak aloud before he got in over his head.

Or, at least, he would have asked, had a wad of cloth not been jammed into mouth hard enough to make his jaw click uncomfortably. He gagged, trying to shove the offending material out with his tongue, but it was packed into his cheeks too tightly to budge. A different material, a thin rope, was quickly wound around his chest to pin his arms to his sides before wrapping further down to bind his ankles. It had happened in the flash, the guard giving him no warning or reasoning for the sudden confinement, but it wasn’t as if Aiden could offer up much protest now that it was all said and done. He was completely immobile, spun up like a fly in a spider’s web. The guard had done it with such efficiency that it must be something similar to a routine for him by now which did not bode well. In a last ditch effort to save his hide from whatever...this was, he looked up at his captor with wide, pleading eyes, begging for just a shred of sympathy or at the very least an explanation of what was about to happen.

All he was met with was the same cold, violet eyes as all the other giants he had come to pass. Equally cruel and indifferent. And it was then he understood, as he was being roughly shoved through a hand slot at the base of one of the sturdy metal cell doors, that he was not the one who was meant to be delivering the meals during “lunch duty”. He was the meal. He was the rat, which meant the lizard was…

Aiden wriggled as best he could manage in his position until he was able to roll onto his back and get a good look around the cell. It was massive to him, but compared to the size of the giants he could tell it was rather cramped. Dark and depressing, much like one would expect a lonely prison cell to be, with the scattering of tiny bones and grime along the stone walls. His breathing quickened as he tried to tell just what type of origin the gnawed remains had been, however it was too difficult to tell at this distance in such gloom lighting. Perhaps that was for the best, giving his brain a little boost of reassurance that maybe they weren’t all human bones, that this wasn’t a common fate most of his kind befell when they made the same foolish mistake of invading where they clearly did not belong.

Trying to avoid the glare of bones only worsened his situation tenfold when he turned his head and was met with what was, obviously, the lizard as previously mentioned. Well, partially a lizard? More human-looking than lizard just going off a quick glance which led Aiden to believe the nickname was meant to be a derogatory term for whatever species it was. It...he? Yeah, he was kneeling on the floor, not by choice, but rather due to the shackles that bound him at the wrist and was tethered to the floor with a pitifully short chain. The clothes he wore reminded him of something he might have caught a few nobles wear given the level of craftsmanship and hand woven designs. It was a shame they were soiled now in what he could only assume was sweat and dirt, how he hoped that was dirt. The prisoner picked his head up when he heard the food slot screech open and shut, waiting for any other sound before sighing at the responding silence.

The chain jingled as he shifted to reposition himself into something a little more comfortable, Aiden now catching sight of the black nails that blended into scales littering the back of his hand when he flexed his fingers. A tail briefly flicked into view before concealing itself behind him once again. As the human let his gaze trail further up his face, fully prepared to see another hateful glare burning a hole through his weak soul, he couldn’t help but notice another spattering of black scales along his cheekbones and down his neck, presumably up to his eyes as well, but...well, he couldn’t tell. Not when there was a tattered, red cloth tied around his head, effectively blinding the sense. He wondered if this was an ailment the giant already had or if this was another part of his punishment, curious if he even had any eyes still in their sockets beneath the shoddy wrappings. Whatever the case was, the “lizard” obviously couldn’t see him and Aiden was unable to alert him to his presence with the gag shoved down his throat, leaving them at an awkward stalemate.

A stalemate that lasted all of two seconds before the giant wrinkled his nose and frowned. “The hell kind of rodent is this…? ” he muttered to himself.

So much for not knowing he was there. With great effort, Aiden twisted his body until he was able to turn on his side, trying to push himself up into a sitting position. He froze when the giant started to move as well, pointed ears twitching in response to the light scuffling he was making against the floor to pinpoint his location. Despite one of his senses being dulled, it was evident his remaining ones were still working in perfect order, maybe even heightened to compensate for the lack of vision.

“Another live one,” he sighed, fingers flexing again, “Sorry about this little buddy. I don’t like live prey any more than you like being it, I’m sure, but, well…”

That was the only warning Aiden had before the giant lunged, teeth snapping an inch in front of his frozen body. From this close, he could see the needle-thin fangs previously hidden behind a grimace and instantly wanted to be far, far away from them. His only saving grace was the short lead the other had on his cuffs, preventing him from pushing off any closer and cutting him off just shy of his prize for the time being. He growled in annoyance at having missed the offered prey, pulling back to realign himself for a better pounce.

“Come on, just make this easy for the both of us,” the giant huffed.

Oh, absolutely not. No, no, no. No, this was not how Aiden wanted his adventure in the skies to end. Fuck the adventure, he wanted to go home and he wanted to do so alive and in one piece. Being ripped to shreds was not a fate he ever envisioned for himself. He wasn’t going to die like some...some rat!

The giant was inching closer, moving along the side as much as the chain would allow to get a better angle. It didn’t matter whether he ensnared the tiny between his claws or teeth or even batted its little corpse within reaching distance with his tail, so long as he was able to get a hold on its fresh flesh one way or another. Desperately, Aiden began to rock back and forth to shimmy his body across the floor, painstakingly putting centimeters of distance between them that the giant was able to make up in a single shuffle. When the chain pulled taunt again, the human rolled to the side and narrowly missed the clamp of teeth once more, hot breath blowing against his back and covering his body in goosebumps. Undeterred, however, the giant followed his scent that was so tantalizingly close and moved his body in unison with Aiden’s. With another bite, he was able to find purchase on the ropes that burned against his arms and sunk his fangs in what he supposed was meant to be an animal's tender flesh.

Aiden had tried to avoid the attack but simply could not scramble away quick enough, his only luck being that he was just far enough that the gnashing teeth only managed to puncture through the fibers of rope rather than his actual skin. He was lifted into the air when the giant pulled back, kicking and thrashing to the best of his ability against the hold. The humid air blowing on the back of his head made him nauseous now, only able to envision how the feeling would quickly be enveloping him entirely when he was thrown back and swallowed down the creature’s gullet. With one, final twist, Aiden prayed his limited strength would be enough to somehow dislodge himself from the giant’s maw and give him another chance at playing this unbalanced game of chase.

And then the rope snapped.

Having already been sawed and frayed in several places from the giant’s fangs, Aiden’s pull was all it needed to rip apart entirely, sending the human sprawling onto the cold ground. His vision clouded when his head smacked against the stone, ironically thankful for the wad of cloth in his mouth or he most certainly would have lost a few teeth. Without a doubt, he was going to have a nasty bruise coloring the majority of his right side in the near future, the ache still pulsing with every wheezing breath he tried to gain back. While the stars faded from his eyes, he watched distantly as the giant curiously grinded the material in his mouth before dropping it. He pursed his lips in confusion, expecting raw meat and the rush of blood rather than some scratchy coils of what almost tasted like hide.

“Gods, what even is this,” he cringed.

Me , Aiden wanted to cry out, it’s me, it’s a human!

The giant’s hang up with his unusual meal faded into resignation much sooner than Aiden would have liked. He was hardly to blame, though, if he had been given nothing but live pests to blindly hunt down without the use of his full mobility for an undetermined amount of time. They were in a similar boat, really. Creatures trapped in a home they had no business being in, trying to survive on what little scraps were thrown their way. The human sorely wished he hadn’t been relegated into the scraps category, but there was little he could do about that now. Knowing his prey had a pretty straight forward drop, he moved again with an open mouth to seal the foreign creature’s fate.

The sight of teeth rushing to greet him was exactly the adrenaline rush Aiden’s body needed to get moving again, much more successfully this time now that he had arms to push up with and legs to carry him a greater distance. As much as he would have loved to have sprinted to the other side of the cell, even find another crack to slip through if fate would feel the desire to be so kind to him today, he only managed to stumble a few feet out of the immediate danger zone before tripping over himself. His right leg screamed in agony from the second fall, a sign of something being sprained somewhere he was sure. He wanted to scream out loud as well had it not been for the gag. The gag he realized he could take out now. Unsure of how useful his last words would even be, the human ripped the wad of cloth out of his mouth in a frenzy while the giant prepped himself for another attack. If anything, at least Aiden could find catharsis in leaving some sort of statement about himself behind for someone to hear, even if it was just confirmation of his fool heartedness.

“Stop!” Aiden yelled, voice raw and itching his throat like it hadn’t been used in ages rather than half an hour. “Please, stop! G-get away! ”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting the giant to do as a result, but one thing was clear and it was that he most certainly wasn’t expecting his meal to say anything. He reeled back like he had been physically struck by those words, if his eyes were visible he was sure they would be as wide as serving platters. It was almost comical how he stumbled back, the menacing creature suddenly so fearful of a tiny vermin it was trying to consume moments prior, mouth agape as he tried to process what was going on without being able to actually see it.

“You...did you just, oh my gods,” he gasped. While he was glad he was being spared for the time being, the giant’s nervousness did little to quell the anxiety that had been brewing in Aiden’s heart since the moment he came upon this accursed land.

“Ple-please…” Aiden whimpered, suddenly drained physically and emotionally from the whole ordeal and settling to just drag himself any extra distance he could away from his unofficial death penalty. It was a pathetic display, but on the bright side, one he wouldn’t be mocked for. “Don’t h-hurt me…”

The giant shifted again, hesitant, closer , and Aiden braced himself for the final bite to end it all.

“You can talk!? ”

#g/t #fearplay #g/t writing #giant/tiny #macro/micro #gianttiny #my writing #hiddendreamer67 #MANDY MY BELOVED #also these are officially her OCs so don't ask me for ANYTHING about them #these are HER KIDS NOW i sign over my parental rights #well #i guess they're mine until I get chapter two out

128 notes · View notes

winnetou-oldshatterhand · 4 years ago

Text

That scene with Nscho-tschi in the bushes

So yeah, I collected and translated a few versions of that scene I wrote. For completeness’ sake: The first one is Karl May’s version, also translated by me.

Then we have a scene from my fic Das Buch, two scenes from a WIP with time loops that probably won’t make sense without context and at the end a little something about sibling banter written by someone with no siblings lol. That one is just for fun and written in about fifteen minutes max.

Original: (translated by me, from Winnetou 1 as on the Karl May website. Page ca 436)

I was already in the process of reaching out with my hand when something Winnetou said stopped me.

„Should I fetch him?“, he asked, whispering.

„No“, Nscho-tschi answered. „He will come.“

„He won't.“

„He will!“

„My sister errs. He has learnt everything very quickly; but your trace passes through the air. How is he meant to find it?“

„He will find it. My brother Winnetou has told me that Old Shatterhand is impossible to lead astray already. Why is he now claiming the opposite?“

„Because today he is facing the hardest task possible. His eye will find any trace; yours, however, is only to be found with his mind, and he hasn't learnt that yet.“

„Still, he will come, for he can do anything he wants.“

She merely whispered those words, and yet there was such confidence, such trust in her tone, I could have been proud of it

„Yes, I have never met a man who so easily learns new skills. Still, one thing remains he will never learn, and Winnetou feels deeply sorry about it.“

„What is it?“

„The wish all of us share.“

Just then I had wanted to make them aware of my presence; but Winnetou spoke of a wish, something that stopped me in my tracks. What wish would I not have loved to fulfill for those good, kind people! They had one and weren't telling me because they didn't believe I would fulfill it. Maybe now I would hear what it was. Therefore I stayed silent and listened.

„Has my brother Winnetou already talked to him about it?“ asked Nscho-tschi.

„No“, replied Winnetou.

„And Intschu tschuna, our father, hasn't either?“

„No. He wanted to tell him but I wouldn't allow it.“

„Not? Why? Nscho-tschi loves this white man deeply; she is the daughter of the supreme chieftain of the Apaches!”

„That she is, and more besides, much more. Every red warrior and every white man would be glad if my sister wanted to be his squaw, everyone but Old Shatterhand.“

„How can my brother Winnetou know this if he hasn't talked to him about it?“

„I know it anyways because I know him. He is not like other white men, he has higher wants than them. He will not take an Indian woman as squaw.“

„Has he said that?“

„No.“

„Does his heart belong to a white woman?“

„Neither.“

„You know this for sure?“

„Yes. We spoke of white women and from his words I understood that his heart hadn't spoken yet.“

„So it will speak for me!“

„My sister mustn't deceive herself! Old Shatterhand thinks and feels differently than you believe. If he chooses a squaw she must be amongst women what he is amongst men.“

„And I am not?“

„Amongst the red girls, yes; no one is equal to my beautiful sister. But what have you seen and heard? What have you learnt? You know how women live amongst our people but nothing of what white women must have learnt, must know. Old Shatterhand looks not for the glimmer of gold, nor for beauty of a face; he looks for things he will not find in a red girl.“

She lowered her head and stayed silent. So he lovingly caressed her cheek and said:

„It hurts me, breaking my good sister's heart, but Winnetou is used to always speaking the truth, even if it is a sad truth. Maybe he knows a way on which Nscho-tschi might reach the goal for which she strives.“

Upon hearing this she rapidly lifted her head and said:

„Which way is this?“

„The one leading to the cities in the East.“

„That's where I should go, you think?“

„Yes.“

„Why?“

„To learn what you must know and be capable of if Old Shatterhand is supposed to love you.“

„So I will go, and soon, very soon! Will my brother Winnetou grant me a wish?“

„Which one?“

„Talk to Intschu tschuna, our father, about this! Ask him to let me go to the cities in the East! He won't say no, he - - -“

That was all I heard, as I started crawling back silently. It felt like sin, having listened to the sibling's talk. If only they didn't notice me now! What shame for them, and even more so for me! Now, on my retreat, it was even more important to remain careful than on my approach. The slightest noise, the smallest coincidence, was enough to betray my knowledge of the beautiful Indian woman's secret. And in that case I would have to leave my red friends the very same day.

The Book: (Winnetou decides to read Winnetou 1)

Of course Charley described their last practice, the last test in detail. He had done incredibly well, many more experienced warriors would have taken longer to find the trace.

Wait a moment – Charley had attempted to sneak up on them? Winnetou vividly remembered him approaching them from the opposite side of the clearing. His brother had overheard him talking to Nscho-tschi? How could they not have noticed? Apparently he didn't have every right to criticize careless young warriors if he himself had paid that little attention.

Of course, he knew why he hadn't been paying attention. His plan had been to tell Nscho-tschi about his own feelings for Charley while they were sitting in the bushes, waiting. Telling her the true reason why he hadn't brought up her feelings for his brother. He had changed his mind at the very last second – a choice he was feeling eminently grateful for in hindsight.

Maybe his reaction to Nscho-tschi's words had been a little harsh but he had been jealous, pessimistic and his own heart had already been broken. Of course he had wanted to wish them all the best, his sister and his friend, but he hadn't known what exactly Charley wanted. His assumptions had gone towards someone just as perfect, as smart, as educated.

But back to the book. The wish he had meant, the wish he had refused to elaborate on was one his brother still hadn't fulfilled. To simply remain in the West, at Winnetou's side, with the Apaches. Of course the rest of his family had wanted Charley to stay as Nscho-tschi's husband, he himself would have preferred that didn't happen, though he'd never have said that. So his words sounded supportive, his deeds were less so. Sometimes Winnetou wished for his sister's confidence, but how could he ever hope his brother's heart would speak for him.

Maybe if he'd been less harsh, if he'd reacted differently to his sister's pain, anything but quickly suggesting education in the cities of the East, maybe his family would still be alive, maybe they'd never have met Santer.

Winnetou still felt surprised that he'd so entirely missed Charley's approach and retreat. Regardless of his heartache, you couldn't pay that little attention. Had it been an enemy both of them would have died. Still, why would Charley have felt he had to leave them over this conversation? Shame of overhearing them and still not reciprocating Nscho-tschi's feelings? That wasn't his fault, no one could control their heart.

After Nscho-tschi had asked to be allowed into the cities of the East, Winnetou had gotten lost in his thoughts. He had worried for her, considered the prejudices she would encounter, all for some vague hope. Their father hadn't been able to deny them any major wishes, not since they had lost their mother, not since he had lost the love of his life.

As of yet unpublished time travel/time loop fic 1:

Maybe it was a mistake, following the script his memories provided, but as of yet he hadn't woken up in the past again... Still, Charley didn't know if he could repeat all of his actions from back then, not identically at least. He had changed.

In spite of his twinging conscience Charley hid back behind that same bush in which he knew the siblings were hiding. It was truly remarkable that he had managed to succeed in sneaking up on Winnetou – a feat that had never been easy, neither in the past nor in the present.

„Should I fetch him?“, Winnetou asked, whispering.

„No“, answered Nscho-tschi, „He will come.“

„He won't come.“

„He will!“

„My sister errs. He has learnt quickly, astonishingly so; but your trace goes through the air itself. How is he meant to find it?“

„He will find it. My brother Winnetou told me himself, Old Shatterhand can no longer be deceived. Why is he contradicting his own words?“

„Because this is the hardest possible task. His eye may find any trace; but yours can only be found with thought. Winnetou doesn't know if his brother has learnt that already.“

Maybe it was his imagination, but Charley felt as if Winnetou had just a little bit more trust in him. Barely there, but something had changed.

„He will come, he can do anything he puts his mind to.“

Nscho-tschi whispered this, like she did back then, her voice full of trust.

„Yes, I have never known a man who is as skilled in everything he touches. There is just one thing he won't do, and Winnetou is terribly sorry about it.“

„What are you talking about?“

„The wish we all share.“

The wish to take Nscho-tschi as a wife – Charley didn't want that, true. If the wish was him staying in the West, well, he was planning on it. Last time he had desperately wanted to figure out which wish to fulfill but no one had ever told him. Would they speak of their wish now?

„Has my brother spoken to him?“, Nscho-tschi asked.

„No“, Winnetou replied.

„And Instschu tschuna, our father, has he asked?“

„No. He wanted to tell him but I refused.“

„You refused? Why? Nscho-tschi loves him, he respects our culture and knows our language; and she is the Apache chieftain's daughter!“

„She is, yes, and she is more than that. Every red warrior and every white man would be happy to have my sister as his squaw. Everyone but Old Shatterhand.“

Winnetou was right about that, unfortunate as it was, Nscho-tschi was not someone who would make him happy, regardless of her skills or beauty.

„How can my brother Winnetou know this, if he hasn't talked to him about it?“

„I know it anyways, I know him. He is not like other white people, he wants freedom. He will not marry.“

„But if his heart speaks? If it speaks for me?“

„My sister must not lie to herself! If Old Shatterhand chooses a squaw she will be amongst women as he is amongst men. He wants to travel. He won't stay.“

She lowered her head and remained silent. Seeing that he lovingly stroked her cheek and said:

„It hurts me to be breaking my sister's heart, but Winnetou will always speak the truth, even if it is not a happy one.“

Nscho-tschi paused a while longer before she suggested: „I could go to the cities in the East, learn, what Klekih-Petra meant to teach us. Learn what Old Shatterhand would want in a squaw, learn his culture as he learnt ours. Not just for him.“

„Winnetou knows Nscho-tschi wouldn't head to the East just to change for a man. She may like Old Shatterhand but what she really wants is to find a way for us to survive.“

Charley was glad to hear as much. He knew her love for him had little hope of ever being requited. She was a beautiful woman, a good friend, but once upon a time he had married a beautiful woman whom he had appreciated as a friend and as a person. Neither of them had been truly happy.

If anyone could find a way to preserve the Mescalero culture Nscho-tschi was surely one of the best candidates. But she had to die. This was his hell and there was nothing he could do.

This was everything he needed to hear so it was time to head back out of the bush and greet his friends openly.

As of yet unpublished time travel/time loop fic 2:

Those hunts and practices that once filled their first months together were fun now, not schooling. Charley proved himself over and over, proved that he knew his way around the West. Rather than painstakingly learning culture and language of the Mescaleros from Nscho-tschi he helped her teach what Klekih-Petra used to teach. He made friends with other warriors, sat with them at night to talk about the hunt for buffalo and bears. He listened to them talking about their squaws and children.

He was more part of the tribe than he had ever been in his first life.

This time when Charley got the task to find Nscho-tschi after Winnetou carried her he didn't listen in on them. He would be fine, regardless of what they were planning. If they wanted something they needed to tell him.

This time he entered the clearing openly, calling them out of the bushes straight away. Winnetou clearly showed his surprise at the speed at which they had been found, proud of the brother who had barely ever been his student as far as he remembered.

A new one with actual banter as a treat: (this is pretty much crack)

As I slowly and carefully crawled towards the bush I knew Winnetou and Nscho-tschi to be hiding in I began hearing furious whispers.

„You never let me spend time with him alone!“, Nscho-tschi was accusing her brother.

„Well I met him first! He's my blood brother, my friend first!“

„That doesn't mean you're his only friend!“

„Of course not, shut up!“

„You shut up!“

I had never witnessed the siblings quite so relaxed, even in their argument there was no malice behind their words.

„Nscho-tschi do this, Nscho-tschi do that, Nscho-tschi I don't want to play with you, Nscho-tschi ate all the berries daddy!“

„Oh shush you did eat those berries.“

„You're just jealous he wants to spend time with me too!“

She seemed to be poking his side as she was talking.

„Seriously Nscho-tschi, shush – if we keep this up Charley will find us just by hearing us talk!“

„You started it... But fine.“

And certainly, the siblings quieted down. Of course, I had already found them, not because of their noise, but they wouldn't believe that if I showed myself now.

It was strange, listening to them tease each other like I had witnessed my sisters argue about dolls and playmates, argue like I had argued with my siblings about everything and nothing at all. Winnetou had always seemed so regal, so otherworldly. He was human though, just like the rest of us.

As if on cue, Winnetou whispered a last time: „This is not going to be a Fort Tennessee situation, clear?“

Whatever he had meant with that, it was time for me to retreat.

#Winnetou #Old Shatterhand #winnetou/old shatterhand #my writing #Karl May #karl may books #Nscho-tschi #Listen carefully this is not a final polished version of anything #this is not beta read or edited or anything #it's a rough draft/translation into a language I don't usually use for talking about this so I'm missing vocab and too lazy to look it up #If I ever post this to AO3 it'll be cleaned up but this already took me a week longer than I had planned lol #angst

29 notes · View notes

lycorogue · 3 years ago

Note

Hey girl! For your "Ask about WIPs" game, I'm interested in "I Don't Care" and/or "Seduce with Caution." Hope you're well, stay safe!!

Hey right back! I am doing well. Hope the same for you and yours.

[WIP tag game: my list]

Ya know what, no one else has played yet, so I'll go ahead and indulge. 😀

I Don't Care

This story actually started life as a "tumblr exclusive" one-shot called Stranger in a White Dress (published here May 2018). It was actually one of the first fanfics I posted to Tumblr. It was inspired by the song "Play Me Like a Violin" by Stephen (*warning: the music video has flashing bits, so those with photosensitivity, please be careful if you watch instead of just listen).

I don't know why specifically I latched onto Gabriel Agreste and Emilie Graham de Vanily, but it seemed appropriate somehow. The story was them having a meet cute in college. Emilie would have blown into Gabriel's life for a few minutes, stole a kiss unexpectedly, and then blew back out of his life just as abruptly.

The story stayed like that for quite some time. Then, August 2019, I heard the acoustic version of Ed Sheeran's song "I Don't Care". At first blush, the song sounded like something my husband would sing, but the more I listened the more I realized it could be Gabriel singing about/to Emilie. This song was kind of the theme of the Agrestes' relationship, in my opinion. Hence stealing the song title for the story's title. I took the first verse about being at a party, and continued my story. Gabriel was dragged to a party by his flatmate, and Emilie coincidentally was there. The two reconnected, and Gabriel turned a one-time chance encounter at a club into a potential relationship.

I'm not entirely sure where else to go with this story, aside from knowing I want it to be the love story between these two. Possibly ending with Adrien's birth. Possibly continuing until Emilie's "disappearance." Not sure which yet. However, this whole story is a bit of a slow process while I wait for inspiration to strike again, mostly by way of new music. I have been a touch obsessed for the past year with the songs "2AM" by MK (feat Carla Monroe) and "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur as a back and forth between Emilie and Gabriel respectively (the fact that "2AM" has a female vocalist and "Say You Won't Let Go" has a male vocalist just makes it all the better). The only snafu there is that this would be a chapter about them drinking too much while out, and/or Emilie drunk calling Gabriel and asking for him to spend the night with her. As spontaneous as I like making Emilie, it seems a bit abrupt considering where their relationship stands at the end of the 2nd chapter. So I want to come up with a buffer one showing their first official date as my 3rd chapter. I'm just not sure what said date should look like yet. Thus this WIP sits in waiting.

If you want to read the first two chapters, you can find them over on AO3, FFN, or DA.

Seduce with Caution

This one is actually my current WIP. It's also my first foray into Miraculous Ladybug smut (aged-up, of course).

For some reason, August brings out the smut in me (is it the warm weather?), and I've written other smutty fics during that month in the past. Most have never seen the light of day. I've written a couple using the X-Men OCs created for my husband's play-by-post role-play game. I've written one using my D&D character and one of her partymates. The only smut I've officially published though was my interpretation of a handwaved sex scene in the book Bitterblue by Kristin Cashore (mostly because the series was fairly unknown and that book had been published 7 years prior, so I figured not many would even find my smut).

I have never tried ML smut before though, despite enjoying a lot of the ones I've found. I just couldn't get past the mental image of the Love Square as 14-year-olds.

Last year, however, while reading Dressed to Confess by @zenmisery , she had a bit where Chat Noir's costume acted as a bit of a magical chastity belt. For some reason, that gave me this fantastic concept for a MariChat sex scene. I started working on it, but I realized that it seemed too abrupt of an interaction between these two characters without also having the story be post-reveal and the two of them being in a relationship. The concept, though, would have been how MariChat could spend a night together without Marinette finding out who Chat Noir is under the mask first. The whole premise crumbles if they're already in a relationship and/or it's post-reveal.

I just couldn't get the balance right, and so I abandoned the story. Right around December, I tried again by backtracking a touch to include the seduction and foreplay leading into the sex scene. That too seemed a bit left-field. It felt like glorious crack, and I was tempted to just run with it because crack is a fantastic story "genre" but I... just can't find it within myself to do so. So the story was abandoned again.

This past August I revisited the story once more. After 3 or 4 false starts, I tried backing up even further with my story's starting point. Now this story has become a slow-burn, sexual tension, blushfest. There's implied masturbation, and later chapters will include make-out sessions with heavy petting, but the actual true-blue smut won't show up until the final chapter or so. So my "Porn without Plot" has become "so much pining with a sprinkle of smut thrown in for flavor". 😅

I still don't have a concrete story figured out, but the working summary is: "While 19yo Chat Noir tries to demonstrate to Marinette his new 'moves' to try to win Ladybug over, he accidentally seduces Marinette. Now she has to come to terms with the knowledge that she finds him sexy and highly desirable, all while still holding a flame for Adrien. Meanwhile, Adrien has to wrestle with the knowledge that he found Marinette getting hot and bothered over him a major turn-on. Chaos ensues."

Considering it kept me over a year to write just the first chapter (but only 3 days to write the second one), I want this story complete before unleashing it onto the world. I also need to build up the confidence to let the rest of the fandom read my first ever MariChat smut soooooooooooooooooo..........

ANYWAY, yup. That's what's up with I Don't Care and Seduce with Caution.

A romance story between young Gabriel and Emilie where I humanize Gabriel....

And a slow-burn MariChat smut story that will only really include anything explicit in the last chapter or so.

Thanks so much for the ask! This was fun. Feel free to ask me more!

I've also talked about my original WIP Glitches here, here, and here, as well as talk about my other Gabriel-humanizing project When Love Matters here.

#writing #LycoRogue writing #rikareena ask #LycoRogue answers #WIP tag game #talking about my WIPs #Miraculous Ladybug #ML #ML fanfics #fanfics #I Don't Care #Seduce with Caution #please ask me things #long post

6 notes · View notes

stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 4 years ago

Text

Some WIP details I felt like sharing lol

Recall my idea to make an ikemen revolution/alice in wonderland au... just for fun, why don’t I impart some ideas I’ve had brewing since then, hehe (also no worries! You won’t have to play the game prior, just know the basic gist of alice in wonderland)

So it’s going to be a huge series within a series (once I clear out all of my other ones since it’s planned to be freaking huge). I’ll be focusing on one aspect as a time and it will be similar to Infatuation’s format (Two Teasers, Introduction, Chapter 1, Endings) if all goes well those endings will be two parts each. I plan on releasing character profiles as I go at them (as in I’ll be focusing on one faction at a time, which will make more sense as I continue this post)

Here’s how the outline looks so far, keep in mind I’ve had this in the works for nearly a year and a half now (I should fish out the original post from my old blog hehe), and obviously I’m gonna keep what they are a secret, but you’re lucky to take guesses. As you can see, this is a big one!

I’ll probably amend these in the future, but as of today these are what I have planned to be included in the separate character profiles as I write them, hehe

Tentative Character Details under the cut! Including NCT127/WayV (Yet to Decide), ATEEZ, and Tomorrow x Together

Alice (Y/N) - It was through pure curiosity and a bit of clumsiness that you fell into Wonderland, you just wanted to return the poor boy’s watch, and now here you were in the middle of a five hundred year long war and with no hope of going home until the next full moon when the portal to the real world opens once more, but it would seem that you were not the first to stumble into this world; however, it is you who has to face the repercussions of the previous Alice’s mistakes.

The Red Army (NCT 127 or WayV, depends on how I’m feeling) - Regal in nature, traditional and reliant on birthright to a fault, and with an unseen corruption that only the bigger three know of.

The King of Hearts (Taeyong/Kun) - The leader who calls the shots, he leads with a Machiavellian mindset, but seems to know more than he lets on.

The Queen of Hearts (Doyoung/Ten) - Holding more power than most, he is considered the voice of reason who is in a league of his own.

The Jack of Hearts (Jungwoo/Xiaojun) - There are some jobs that require more blood to be spilled than what would be necessary for the King or Queen, and he is obligated to oblige.

The Ace of Hearts (Haechan/Yangyang) - Leader of Special Operations, he is skilled in more ways than any could expect, and he very often uses that to his advantage.

The 10 of Hearts (Johnny/Lucas) - There’s always a need for a middleman, his job is to be the first on the war front, they number suits are disposable, and no one knows that more than he.

The 9 of Hearts (Taeil/Hendery) - With a tendency to be overseen, he is in charge of espionage operations, and if he knew what was best for him, he would be sure to never be seen.

The 8 of Hearts (Jaehyun) - Supposedly a respected do good, a boy scout, if you will, but even he knows that there are fine print details that come with the job.

The 7 of Hearts (Winwin) - They say seven is a lucky number, but in a cursed position of the 7 of hearts, it becomes apparent how horrifically deadly this position is

The 4 of Hearts (Yuta) - The lower ranks champion more freedom than the higher, and that is seen through this soldier, who seems to be closer to the citizens of Red territory

The 2 of Hearts (Mark) - There’s always one soldier who is thrown the jobs the others don’t want to do, and he’s happy to oblige regardless of the job, official or not.

The Black Army (ATEEZ) - Champions honor, loyalty built through bond rather than blood, and seemingly being controlled by a hand invisible.

The King of Spades (Hongjoong) - No one dares challenge the king, he earned his position by beating the previous one and has since held the title, he’s smart, and that’s what makes him dangerous

The Queen of Spades (Seonghwa) - Every group requires a strategizer, one that often stays behind the scenes to plan out attacks and stay in the safety of the compound should anything happen, and he’s happy to play this part.

The Jack of Spades (Mingi) - Talented in all aspects, he is truly a jack of all trades, he has proven to be resourceful when it came down to it and is a quick thinker on and off the field

The Ace of Spades (San) - The Ace remains the leader of Special Ops, he takes on the jobs that many can’t handle and does so flawlessly, he is notorious throughout Wonderland, but not necessarily for his military prowess.

The 8 of Spades (Jongho) - Being on the deck is a hard enough feat in the Black Army, but of all of the numbers, he happens to be one that has held his position rather long despite appearances.

The 6 of Spades (Wooyoung) - The most important job of an army is that to its people, and in that regard he is rather close to the citizens of the Black Territory and is often found fulfilling odd jobs for them, much to a certain face suit’s disappointment.

The 5 of Spades (Yeosang) - For every officer there are about ten residents in Black Territory, why have one officer of the people when you can have two?

The 4 of Spades (Yunho) - Clumsy in nature and seemingly go-with-the-flow, many people would assume 4 to be an easy position to take, but he is rather adamant on keeping his position for an unknown motive.

Neutral (TXT) - Neutral through choice or through banishment, with no allegiance to either army they know more of what is truly behind the scenes.

The White Rabbit (Taehyun) - The reason you fell into Wonderland in the first place. Always in a rush, this neutral-by-choice records keeper is present at each and every meeting between the two Armies

The Cheshire Cat (Yeonjun) - Intentions unknown, and he’d like to keep it that way. He’s charming in his own way, so long as you stay in your lane.

The Joker (Soobin) - Intentions unknown. Neutral through banishment, he stays recluse in the woods, but should you seek who he is, you will find that it’s a rather easy feat with all of his wanted posters plastered throughout Wonderland

The Mad Hatter (Beomgyu) - Cursed with madness, the Mad Hatter finds that with each or his inventions he allows for a miracle to occur somewhere in cradle at the expense of an undefined something of his each time.

The Dormouse (Kai) - Neutral by choice, he is often the messenger between both territories and is regarded as a neutral party in conjunction with the White Rabbit. However, there are rumors of him wandering into the forest from time to time.

#crys talks #wip

8 notes · View notes

sapphicscholar · 4 years ago

Text

2020 Fic Year-in-Review!

It has been ... a year (both for global/national and personal reasons). I did less writing than I had planned to. Didn’t finish those WIPs like I promised myself I would. But! I worked my butt off to be there 110% for my students, and I still managed to write words and new fics! (According to AO3, I came in just under 200,000 words written/posted this year, which is more than I expected and a nice little boost.)

With the whole “5 fics you’re proudest of” end-of-year meme going around (thanks for the heads up about it @chainofclovers!) and having been tagged at some point in a fic-in-review thing whose questions I’ve lost, I want to focus on being happy with some of the things I did! So, without further ado, 5 fics in chronological order of posting that I’m proud of!

1. Swipe Right for Soulmates - Supercat, T

In general, I really dislike soulmate AUs, and that’s putting it lightly. I’ve read a handful I adore; I’ve tried to write through my issues with the trope a few times; and this is perhaps my favorite of my attempts at playing with it! I got to do a few fun things with genre in this rival-CEO fic and write Cat and Kara into a rivals-to-friends-to-lovers arc, which I don’t think we get too often with this pairing. Anyway, it was fun and felt different, and it still makes me smile!

2. Your fav is in fandom series - one Supercat, M; one Sanvers, T

These two one-shots are meant as a kind of cracky love letter to fandom and the kinds of relational practices it can foster at its best. It came to be in the early weeks of the pandemic and lockdown in the US when, utterly unable to sleep one night (all the nights?!?), I turned to my wife at 1am and asked: “So...which one of the Supergirl characters would be the fandom asshole?” Originally there was meant to be a third fic feat. Lucy/Alura (Majorly Judging You) with my personal headcanon that Lucy organizes the big annual events like fic exchanges and ship weeks and that Alura takes the whole “thank your mods!” A/Ns very seriously, messaging Lucy each and every day of an event with personalized thank you notes that lead to a friendship, then more.

3. If you give an alien a syllabus... - General Danvers, G

Another love letter--this time to community colleges and the wonderful people who staff and attend them. This fic felt vital when I was writing it (there was a lot of stuff going on at my own university and many across the country that I was putting my job on the line to fight), and it was meant as a gift for a close friend who teaches at a local community college at a time when we couldn’t see each other in person. Even though I’ve only ever written a couple General Danvers fics, I quite enjoy fics about them (they were some of the earliest ones I ever read in the Supergirl tag!), and it’s always a lovely fandom to visit!

4. you showed me colors you know i can’t see with anyone else - Supercat, E

Despite being the only angsty thing I’ve written in quarantine when most of my fics have trended toward the cracky or the weird, I actually really enjoyed this smutty, feelings-heavy, years-later/post-breakup Supercat fic! I know that fic often shows some of the best of what life and love can be (which is awesome, even if I’m partial to messy characters who don’t do well with or think of themselves as deserving or wanting a neat happily ever after trajectory), but this felt a little gritty in ways that I personally like. It’s the aftermath of two complicated women coming together and shattering, showcasing all the messy emotions that remain when they start the process of picking those pieces back up and finding a new way to put them back together. Hilariously, I went into it envisioning something with a similar premise but lighter--essentially what would be a part 2 to this fic if I ever wrote it. It was meant to be about Cat and Kara after this initial moment of coming back together for the first time in years, seeing them sneak around almost like teenagers as they tried to keep this precious thing to themselves while they rekindled it and figured out what it could be away from the judgment of everyone who was there when they fell apart the first time.

5. Writing Retreats Are For Lovers - Supercat, M

Another AU! Well, Cat’s pretty much canon Cat, but featuring ABD PhD candidate Kara who meets her at a writing retreat as she tries to get the dissertation written and Cat finally gets a writing coach to help her through the worst case of writers’ block she’s had in years. It hit close to the heart and was very, very fun to write! I always have fun getting to bring characters into new settings to see what about them is integral to who they are and what is context-dependent, much like I’m intrigued by the different (and very similar!) ways relationship dynamics play out, especially early on, when the characters are in new settings and/or roles.

Honorable Mention: Queen of All Mediums - Supecat, G

It’s weird and quirky and a first foray into writing a historical AU based on a period I know so much--like, too much--about to start figuring out how to strike that balance between “what do people need to know for your fic?” vs. “what do you want people to know but honestly it won’t hurt their experience of the story if they don’t?” I have a very long nineteenth-century authors period piece all outlined, which I’ve debated trying to make original fiction or a Supercat fic. I don’t know where it’ll go, if anywhere, but it was nice getting to dip my toes into the historical romance genre here, even if it’s just a tiny little one-shot about spiritualism with a sprinkling of nineteenth-century class and gender politics in the US.

Theres a lot I could say about trends in my fic writing this year (so little angst! largely AU! no new WIPs!), but I won’t bore you all with my theories about why x or why not y. I wasn’t surprised by most of what I found looking through what I wrote, though I was shocked to find that I wrote only Supergirl pairings this year--a variety of pairings (only some of which appear on this list), but still. My writing and reading didn’t match up at all, and my random fic outlines and drafty drafts also include a much broader variety (some seeds of what was, at one point, to become a multi-chapter Grace/Frankie fic that I think I’ll need to ease into with a couple one-shots; several fully sketched out SwanQueen fics from binge-watching the whole series for the first time during the pandemic and having SO MANY thoughts about both the show’s promising notes and its many disappointments, as well as the fandom’s fabulous works; and a handful of notes about Dead to Me that are honestly closer to meta than fics proper anyway).

Honestly I’d love to see other people doing this! Consider yourself tagged, and feel free to tag me in your responses--I’d love to hear all about what writing you’re proud of!

#fic year in review #fanfic #fic meta #personal post #i have so many more thoughts #don't give an academic an open text box ever

19 notes · View notes

yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy · 3 years ago

Text

WIP Wednesday 8/11/21

Had a writing stint where I pumped out 7K words in 3 days when I usually manage only..200-500 a week. Here’s some snippets of a WIP with my Gray-Ace Inquisitor Tallin and a very understanding Solas as they navigate her very first romantic/sexual feelings for anyone, ever (24 and never been kissed except that one time in the Fade, baby!!). She is a very nervous person by nature...

————-

Please just a crumb of feedback. A gif. An emoji. Please. I’m on my goddamn knees.

[snippet 1]

"Tell me 'no', and we can resume as we were without enmity. You are also at liberty to tell me to take my leave, in which case I hope to see you in the morning..." He stopped before her, drawn to his full height, head tilted slightly in a manner akin to a wolf intent on ascertaining a curious vision. “But if you choose for me to remain, you must decide once more. At your behest, I will gladly provide the chaste company of which you are so accustomed. We will sit. We will talk. We will read. We will retire in an exhausted fashion to bed. You will cozy up beside me like a nugling to its nestmate, content. But if you say 'yes', if you wish to learn how it is the wolves dance.."

The light gray of his eyes suddenly darkened and his lips spread wide and sharp, rendering him impish, lupine. Tallin's heart lurched, but to her inner wonder it was not accompanied by a familiar queasy unease. Her instincts were not screaming for her to bound away like a skittish halla from the man standing before her. Instead, the soft heat in her lower stomach flared like a bonfire given new life, its flames crawling up inside her chest, licking beneath her lungs. In the rare instances where someone looked at her in such a way--like she was something to be snatched up, like she was something edible--she retreated, recognizing that the individual had wordlessly marked her as prey.

Would it be so terrible to have him as her pursuer? That was what he was implying, wasn't he? That he had been observing her in that particular manner far longer than this emergent sense of craving.

What made it so different from the other times? What made his approach far less threatening?

The consideration, she realized. He is considerate.

If she was a halla, then he was a..a..

Her eyes flicked down momentarily in thought, landing on the dark jawbone hanging low over his chest from thin leather cords.

And here and now, she realized she had always had her answer. He was a wolf. A wolf with a wistful man's soul.

Their method of courting until now, if it could be called that, had not been a simple 'chase'. No, the wolf had deigned not to pursue, for it recognized the halla did not wish to be hunted down. If this particular halla was ever compelled to bolt, it would not do so while also secretly relishing the idea of hot frantic breath on its heels or teeth sinking into its throat.

"..then with your blessing I will take you to your bed and claim everything you are, everything you are willing to give. I will unravel you as easily spun silk, uncover for us both your desires that remain unnamed."

He shifted and out of the corner of Tallin's eye, a shadow moved. His words had coiled her up like an Orlesian spring toy, promises that spoke of capitulation and submission and frightening loss. Her head felt hollow, her skin tight and brittle. The anxious fire in her chest roared in its hearth unabated.

Her breaths shallowed. This was happening. Everything was happening. He was describing the clumsy mental images she had been too cowardly and too embarrassed (and too confused) to acknowledge. All of this, everything, was happening too much and too fast. She knew nothing of his predilections. She knew nothing of what she wanted other than to be with him. Beyond the bare minimum for procreation, the stories of brutal violence inflicted upon elf women by peasants and nobles, and the confusing comments made in passing by the Iron Bull, she didn't know what to expect.

If you speak it, you will make it real.

He raised his hand. She froze, spine taut. His expression gentled, edges shaved. The backs of his fingers stroked her cheek. "I will have you in the manner that a lover should. Gently. Sweetly."

As if he had woven a spell, Tallin gradually relaxed into the touch. It was not necessarily of her own volition, but she knew this. Nothing frightening ever came of this. This was familiar. Safe.

She heard Solas hum, thoughtful. "Yes, a gentle touch for a gentle girl. Would that please you?"

She swallowed, caught his hand and turned her head to press her lips against his hot palm. The world was silent for several moments. "W-Would you..?" She croaked. A question with many budding branches.

Would you..?

..be gentle?

..do all that you say?

..treat me kindly?

..love me?

Another step, and they were flush together. Her hand found his tunic and scrunched the material in her fist. As a precaution or an anchor she did not know.

He loomed over her fully now, both hands coming to cradle her face as if she were blown glass, gray sky eyes beholding her like Mother. Love. But now, also..

She offered no resistance when he tilted her head just so. He leaned in. His breath was scorching mint against the whorls of her ear.

"Yes. Until you can hardly stand it."

[snippet 2]

"You wish to-? Oh, 'ma'lath.." The tenderness in his voice made her eyes sting for but a moment. The casual nature in which he extracted her hand from the half-hard presence pressing against breeches could not fully offset the surge of embarrassment she felt. As Solas busied himself with kissing the knuckles of her offending hand, she silently berated herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Tallin."

Tallin started. To her chagrin, she found Solas peering at her over her curled hand, his gaze firm and knowing. The internal self-abuse had been playing itself across her face.

She couldn't do this, she realized. She didn't know *how* to do this. He was trying to coach her through it but what if nothing stuck? What if she kept making mistakes, misreading signs? What if this was all a put-on for *her* sake? What if he didn't want her and was doing this to placate her, as he had so many other times? Lovers had to touch each other, she knew that much, and for him to except himself from this exercise, it reeked of...

"Tallin." His voice said through the dull ringing in her ears. "Tallin."

"Ir abelas." This was a mistake, a horrible mistake. She turned away, intent on rolling off the bed and..where would she go? She didn't know. The blood pounding in her ears was making it so difficult to *think*.

An arm wrapped around her waist as firm a steel band, digging into her stomach. She struggled half-heartedly, frustrated tears leaking from her eyes.

"S-Solas.." she protested.

"Tallin. Come back to me, my love." She shook her head and bit her lip to hold back a pathetic whimper. Not to deny him, but to help rid herself of the looming thoughts.

Selfish. This was selfish. 'I desire you, you desire me, but I demand that I take from you and give you nothing back.' That wasn't how it was supposed to go, was it? It didn't sound right.

But she was greedy for comfort. Always craving it.

[snippet 3]

"Shh, shh. No. You are not like most others. You were born with a heart that hungers endlessly for love, but eyes that cannot see that the source from which you drink remains full no matter how often you sip. It is your nature, but it can be tamed with practice. You can learn to ignore these pressing doubts, in time."

"I want to do this. I want to feel this burning, to learn where it might go, but.. I'm still nervous about..you, and where you..fit."

"That is not an uncommon concern, vhenan."

"So I've heard. But what if I never overcome it? What if it still..frightens me? If you accepted it--"

"--I would accept it." His tone was firm, almost indignant.

"--then it would only be me that was benefitting from this. It would only be me that was taking."

Solas barked a laugh, making Tallin jump.

When he finally settled, his grin had not abated--a full one that revealed straight white teeth and sharp canines, crinkled eyes that glowed with pure mirth.

Tallin lay there, confused and a bit put out, by her hahren's strange reaction.

"'Ma'vhenan, there is so much more to sex than that." He chuckled again, the sound decidedly doting. "You see yourself as taking advantage of me, of taking while offering nothing in return until you have used me all up, yes?" A reluctant nod. "But you have never considered to ask how I feel in all this?"

Tallin blinked.

"In matters of state you display exemplary feats of compassion and empathy, but in matters of the heart you are callous to yourself. You believe that sex is a matter of 'taking', but that is far too reductive for what this is. Pleasure does not solely originate from taking or receiving. Giving is just as lucrative. In giving, I would be receiving your pleasure. The joy in giving a gift is to receive another's happiness, is it not?

"Y-Yes.."

"And do you not see that you are a gift to me?"

"I am?"

"Yes. Your trust that I will do right by you in this matter is a precious gift, one I will hold close to my heart. That you offer me the opportunity to teach you despite your lingering reservations is no small gesture."

[snippet 4]

"I love you." She said, muffled. "Ar lath ma."

"Lathan na. Bellanaris. Please understand that this is a request I must refuse. The time to learn of me will come later." At the familiar sight of Tallin's brow furrowing in confusion, he hummed, a serene enigmatic smile on his face as he cupped her inked cheek. He leaned in and planted an affectionate kiss upon her forehead before resting his against hers, peering into her puzzled brown eyes. "Tonight we are learning about you. This is your first experience not just with a man, but with pleasure. I will not risk overwhelming you with my wants when you have yet to determine what it is you yourself desire." Another kiss. "Slowly, 'ma'vhenan, slowly is best."

Sheepishly, "O-Okay, but I only wanted--"

He was quick to silence her with a kiss. "I know, I know, and you are so good to have offered." His voice dropped into a purr. "So good for me.." His mouth was on hers again, hot and surprisingly eager. Tallin's eyes widened, then fell closed at the familiar brush of his tongue against her lips. Thick honey-heat pooled beneath her skin; her hands found his shoulder and nape to instinctively pull him close as she obediently opened her mouth.

They clashed and fed upon each other's taste. She discovered his: sugar and..lemon. Lemon cake? It tasted good, a faint playful zing on her tongue.

Time and sense gradually slipped away with the air in her lungs. At some point he turned them both so she lay on her back. With his knees staked on either side of her, he could hover over her while avoiding making her feel trapped. Considerate, she thought with a burst of love, he is so considerate.

Solas was the first to pull away, and Tallin was only a little surprised that the soft noise of disappointment that she made at their parting didn't inspire any embarrassment in her.

What did make her blush furiously, though, was the show Solas made in how thoughtfully he licked his lips as he paused to catch his breath, grinning the whole time. "..mmh, an intriguing mystery."

Tallin didn't know if it was the lack of air or the wondrous nature of the kiss, but she couldn't connect the dots with what he was saying. "W-What?"

"The taste of you. I wonder what it could be. No, don't tell me." he clarified when she made a move to speak. He hummed to himself as his thumb rubbed the space beneath her lower lip, his grin simplifying into a satisfied smirk. Tallin felt another flare of heat radiate over her cheeks. "I will find out for myself soon enough."

And he descended upon her with his lips and tongue as fervently as before. She soon began to pant as she found herself once again suffocating on his sweet breaths. He seemed intent on fulfilling his promise. She could never have imagined a kiss to be this fierce, this hungry. He was devouring the very taste out of her mouth! And to her surprise she found she..liked it. She liked it as much as the soft and gentle kisses. Where those were affirming his devotion, these were confirmation that the desire she felt for him wasn't one-sided.

#wip wednesday #solas #tallin lavellan #solavellan #my writing #my fanfiction #gray ace #asexual #dragon age #DA:I

1 note · View note

hoidn · 5 years ago

Text

if you want to play along, consider yourself tagged.

AO3 name: tree

Fandoms: these are fandoms i've written in, but they're not all my fandoms, if that makes sense. i've written quite a few things in exchanges just because i was familiar enough with the canon to take a pinch-hit or because i didn't know what i was getting myself into.

Longmire (TV), The X-Files, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, House M.D., Star Trek: Voyager, Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, The X-Files RPF, The Cutting Edge (1992), Blade (Movie Series), Northanger Abbey - Jane Austen, Hannibal (TV), Girl with a Pearl Earring - All Media Types, Lady of the Shard (Webcomic), The Fionavar Tapestry - Guy Gavriel Kay, The Wake - Paul Kingsnorth, Battlestar Galactica (2003), Stranger Than Fiction, Charlotte Gray (2001), Green Gables Fables, Firefly, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Ibis Trilogy - Amitav Ghosh, Octopus Steals My Video Camera and Swims off with It While It's Recording (Short Film), Gilmore Girls, The Middleman (TV), Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, JAG (TV 1995), Hamlet - Shakespeare, The Fall (TV 2013), The Abyss (1989)

the fandoms i haven’t yet posted anything for are many and varied, and any WIPs that may exist for them will likely die with me, which is probably a very good thing.

Number of fics: 94 (?!!)

Fic you spent the most time on: no friggin' idea. i sometimes spend weeks just trying to get one paragraph right and then write two thousand words the next day which need very little editing. it might take me over a year to write something from start to finish that's not much more than a thousand words, but how much of that span of time was spent actually working on that particular fic isn't something i keep track of.

Fic you spent the least time on: hope falls harder — it's one sentence; i spent longer scraping together the title and summary than i did writing the work. in my defence it's in a made-up language that only exists in the text, so it was a difficult sentence.

Longest fic: some wild and necessary hunger with 24,606 words. because of course a trope i didn't like at all until i discovered i liked it in very specific contexts turned itself into my longest fic. of fucking course.

Shortest fic: hope falls harder with 41 words. however, since it's the only fic anywhere ever for this canon, i still win the prize for the longest fic in the fandom.

Most hits: A Wild and Distant Shore with 32,785 hits. fork me. that is terrifying. (what's interesting is that to suppose the truth of it possible has the next highest number at 30,440 and it was written nine years later, so it's accrued hits at a much faster rate than my older P&P fics, but it doesn't even make it into the top 5 by kudos. so a lot of hits but fewer people like it? i'm so curious!)

Most kudos: A Wild and Distant Shore with 1,084 kudos. folks continue to dig the P&P smut.

Most comment threads: if you came this way with 80 threads, but it's an extreme outlier. the next three highest are in the mid-low 30s, which i think is more indicative.

Fave fic you wrote: within the last few years, probably Darlin', everything's on fire (with Through Worlds as a close runner-up). i am genuinely proud of my zombie apocalypse AU. i think it's one of the best things i've ever written.

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: as @sarking said, "I’m not a rewriter – it’s hard enough to get something out of me once, or to get a draft and a finished product out of me." i'm also not an expander, with one recent exception. when i write a fic, i tell the story i've got to tell and then there's no more. that said, someone once mentioned they'd like to read chakotay's side of if you came this way and my brain mulled over that to the extent that it's got a title (no mean feat) and its own document, and i've actually noodled a bit at it.

(noodling is, of course, a different process to writing; noodling is to writing what doodling is to drawing. although to continue the alliterative parallels i suppose it should be 'woodling', but as that just looks ridiculous, let's not.)

however, there are many barriers to this fic's completion, among other things that it's daunting trying to match myself. even while i was in the process of writing it, i knew if you came this way was something special. not necessarily the best thing i've ever written in strict terms, but certainly the most joyful in process (at least up until the very end). which isn't to say it was easy, just that somehow all the stars aligned so that my love of the characters and my love of language combined into something wonderful and the process itself became a celebration of that love. oh my god it sounds like i was on acid or something at the time, but i wasn't. just my usual cocktail of crazy meds.

Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning: i'm knee-deep in my het big bang fic that won't quit and is definitely not the fic i had intended to write hahahaha. it's for That Show I Can't Stop Making GIFs For Or Writing Fic For Apparently. but! i'm also noodling away at a J/C voyager fic for the kind soul who bid on me in the fandom for australia auction. this may or may not be the final version, given that i haven't written the lead-up yet and i haven't written these characters at all in some time, but i quite like it as it stands, so here we go.

"It has to be me," she said.

"Captain—"

A single raised hand forestalled his protest.

"I've already had this argument with Tuvok. Please don't make me repeat the experience, Commander." She strode a restless to-and-fro across the Ready Room. "Perhaps it makes me a prude but I believe that sex is a private act, not a performance."

"It doesn't make you a prude."

Janeway carried on as if she hadn't heard, her eloquent hands in agitated motion. "And how can I, in good conscience, order someone to... to... perform?"

It was a split-second decision, instinctive.

"You won't have to order anyone, Captain."

She stopped, frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm volunteering for this mission."

Her whole face softened into gentle distress. "Oh, Chakotay. I can't ask that of you."

"You're not asking. I'm offering."

#meme sheep #writing is more surprise than certainty #sometimes i write things

4 notes · View notes

cheryllcher · 5 years ago

Text

Marinette: Guardian of the Miraculous

part 2

i have too many wips but im writing something else again :)) (woes of a writer/artist/just creators don’t @ me here)

so my brain clearly isn’t prioritising so here’s a really very long lil one shot based on this post i found by @aly4son and it’s pretty cute and fluffy. i decided to make some changes and add some stuff here as well becuz i love fluff hope it’s okayy. this took pretty long becuz i had to figure out how to put everything together ://

and as it stand it is getting way too long so im gonna have to put up a second part whoops.

—

“Hmm… Add a little of this…, a drop of water from the Dragon’s Tears Fountain… Oh, don’t forget the edible glitter…”

Marinette was adding different ingredients to her pot, swirling her wooden spoon at the same time. She was preparing for her final test before she was officially declared the new Guardian of the Miraculous. However, she needed a break from all the formulas and power-up functions. So, she decided to continue playing around with the concoction she’s been working on for weeks, hoping to complete her experiment that afternoon. She knew she could just finish it after her test, but she could feel that she’s so close, and was eager to observe the results.

Ever since she started learning the recipes of the power-up potions, she wondered what other power ups she could try making, if it were possible. She’s been trying over and over again, playing around with different kinds of ingredients. She’d even brought some items from the bakery, if only to give it a little taste and colour. (And also to test a theory of whether it can be used to make power-up potions. It did work out in the end, but only some foods.) She remembered Chat mentioning that Plagg hated those power-up cheese (said it tasted like “liquidy goo you humans take when you’re sick”) and decided to mess around with flavours.

“And… Done! Tikki? Up for another round of taste testing? I think I’ve got it this time!”

“Of course, Marinette! I’m curious though, why did you add the glitter?”

“It’s for flair, for the potion I’m brewing. If this works, you’ll see why I wanted glitter in there.” Marinette threw in a wink, and dipped a little spoon inside the pink, glittery liquid. Tikki floated towards it and took a sniff, noting the scent of champagne coming from it. I wonder if kwamis ever get drunk, didn’t think we’d try that before in all the time we spent in the miracle box.

She quicked sipped the delicious brew, and immediately felt a tingling sensation.

“It’s happening! It worked!”

In a flash of pink, Tikki transformed, her usual self now a sparkling crystal-like texture, her centre spot and tail (?) now dazzling diamonds.

“Wow… Well, what power up is this?”

“It’s called the Elegant power up, ooooooor Exquisite. Haven’t really decided on the name yet. It’s just a little fun power-up I came up with, you know, like a fancy dress transformation.”

“Cool! I’m sure Kaalki would love to try this power-up. It’s glorious.” Tikki laughed at her own little joke.

Oh, how she wished she could snap a photo of Tikki, but kwamis don’t show up on cameras. It was a great accomplishment, and she was really proud of herself. Specially created with an original outfit designed by her, a sketch of the design slowly added into the mixture while it boils. (Another absurd theory that flitted through her mind.) Never thought this crazy idea would work but here we are.

“Alright, I’m going to try transforming. Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Marinette!”

“Elegant Tikki! Spots on!”

The familiar feeling of transforming washed over Marinette, yet it feels completely different at the same time. The swirls of pink magic disappeared to show a red cocktail dress with exquisite black sequins scattered on silk, the fabric a darker shade of red than what she usually wore. Extremely fancy indeed.

A Mandarin collar wrapped around her neck with a mini brooch which had a symbol engraved into it, a representation of her Chinese heritage and the pattern associated with the Miraculous. The top half had black polka dots, embodying her super-persona’s namesake, along with a matching mask and gloves, both of which had intricate embroidery. Her hair was pulled up into a stylish updo, braids twisted to form a crown above her head. Her red heels has little ladybugs on them, just like the one in her hair. Just how she imagined it.

“Wow, this is even better than what i would have done!” Marinette twirled around, noticing that the outfit has a litte glittery shine to it. Now she wish she would get to wear this someday; she felt like a princess! (Well, it was pretty funny because Chat would always call her civilian self that.)

In the midst of admiring her work, Master Fu walked into the room. His eyes widened at the sight in front of him, and Marinette shrieked, quickly transforming back to her usual self.

“Ah, sorry Master! I was messing around with an idea I had and I completed it just now. Don’t worry, I was practicing potions before that.”

“I’m not mad, Marinette. On the contrary, I’m actually very pleased that you have managed a feat that even my masters were unable to achieve back when I was in training with them. Perhaps I could show it to them when I return for a visit.

“In the mean time, how about you use this power-up for your Guardian officiating ceremony. It is something to celebrate after all and you deserve it.”

Marinette didn’t know what to say. She just thanked the master profusely, grateful for the opportunity to try out her new invention. She didn’t bother trying to refuse because she knows that there would still be one no matter what she says. Master Fu simply waved it off with a chuckle.

“Now, would you like to have your final test today or prefer to still wait for tomorrow? I feel that you are ready.”

—

School was still a priority, being in senior year and all. Marinette could only work on designs during her free time, and with Hawkmoth around those are scarce. Marinette would sometimes sketch out ideas besides finishing her homework, for fear if forgetting them. She absolutely hated it when an idea struck while she was busy fighting an akuma.

Good thing was, she didn’t need to worry about measurements. The miraculous will ensure that everyone’s suits and dresses would fit them to a t. So all she had to do was make sure that the designs represented each of the holders perfectly.

Tikki wholeheartedly agreed that Marinette deserved to be celebrated as the new Guardian, she hadn’t had a holder who was a Guardian since millennias ago. She was positively buzzing with exhilaration, moves animated with so much zest Marinette was afraid she might explode.

Chat was the first person she told about becoming a Guardian. He was surprised, after all he wasn’t aware of her receiving training, but that was short-lived as he immediately tackled Ladybug in a humongous bear hug for her sensational achievement. He even said, and I quote, “My, I’m honoured to be graced with the presence of the great and powerful Guardian of the Miraculous Box,” topped off with an exaggerated bow and a kiss to the knuckles.

He was also ecstatic about the prospect of a new transformation. Ladybug told him to assure Plagg that she had added a different flavour to it, and will add some cheese to his batch on top of infusing it in his beloved camembert. That night, Plagg denied purring loudly in his sleep. (“You were dreaming, Adrien. Hallucinating!”)

Three months of constant sketching and resketching, coloring in and retracing it for the potion, Marinette finally got the designs out. She asked the kwamis for their opinions on the designs, (after a mini celebration of their own, obviously.) and they gave their input. Some even made flavour requests, though they still kept the champagne in there as they loved it and it made the power-up more fancy.

Then it’s another week of measuring, mixing, and carefully infusing the correct batches into the different snacks. She almost put Wayzz’s herbal tea flavoured potion into Pollen’s honey comb, if not for Tikki and Wayzz’s interference. Oh, the look of horror on Pollen’s face would send Plagg laughing with tears.

With everything ready, it’s time to paaaaaaaaartay! (Clearly Xuppu was here :) )

—

With the help of Chat Noir, they managed to get the miraculouses to the respective holders’ rooms before they arrived home from school. She handwrote all the dissolving letters containing the information, taking care to use her cursive. Those online lessons really paid off, even Tikki couldn’t recognise that she was the one who wrote it.

Ladybug hid behind a rooftop as she watched Max open read the letter, coming to the conclusion that everyone else is doing the same. She hoped that she had made her instructions clear enough, considering how… excited some of her classmates could be.

—

Everyone was confused when they found a box in their rooms, realising soon after that it was a miraculous box. Alya and Chloe immediately opened their boxes, paying no mind to the paper that were below.

“Oh, finally! Ladybug is giving the Miraculous to me! It’s about time.”

“Trixx! Does Ladybug need me?” An extremely loud gasp, “Oh my gosh, is she here? Do I get to hold on to my miraculous?”

The kwamis questioned had to clarify that no, Ladybug was not nearby as there is no emergency, no, it was only for a few short hours, and no again, the miraculous was technically not theirs but “belonged” to the Guardian for safekeeping unless they are permanent holders. They were only temporary holders who are called upon when their help were needed.

(Ladybug and Master Fu had them make sure they got it through their heads after getting irritated when some people kept begging for it again. And also to inform those whose identities were compromised that it was their last time using theirs.)

“Please read the letter before you do anything, Alya.”

“It contains some important information that you really must know before you call upon me, my queen.”

All holders read through the letter:

“Dear [Name],

I hope this letter finds you well. I’m to be officiated as the new Guardian of the Miraculous, and it would really make my happy if you could join me tonight. Along with your miraculous, you will find a small snack for your kwamis. It is to be consumed strictly before transforming, so do not waste it as I’ve only provided a small piece.

You will transform tonight at 4am, going going to the address listed below. Don’t worry, the kwami will be able to help you with that. I know it is late but this is to ensure no reporters or your parents will see you sneak out. Hawkmoth rarely comes out at night anyway, so that’s a bonus.

Chat Noir and I are greatful for your contributions as the heroes of Paris, so we would also like this to be a celebration of thanks. Hope to see you there!

Signed, Ladybug

Address: 53 Rue de Corentin, Petit Fortune Hôtel 3rd floor”

The letters dissolved with a flame of green sparkles, kwamis reaffirming the chosens that they know the address and will help them navigate.

#miraculous #ml #mlb #marinette dupain cheng #master fu #ml kwamis #guardian!marinette #ml ficlet #miraculous ladybug

23 notes · View notes

raychleadele · 5 years ago

Text

76tagged by @simplyaskeleton and @charmandhex who are both awesome people, I love you guys.

Ao3 name: raychleadele

Fandoms: THE ADVENTURE ZONE, BABEY

Number of fics: only 8 so far

1. Fic you spent the most time on: If we’re talking about finished fics you can go read that would be Breathe Easy, which I wrote in about four months, but my current WIP has been in progress since November of 2018 so that one’s winning now I guess??

2. Fic you spent the least time on: That’s harder to know for sure, as most of my other fics are short and didn’t take much time at all. But it might be Lemon-Blueberry, Apple Pie which I busted out in an afternoon in response to a prompt from Charm.

3. Longest fic: That’s Breathe Easy at 36,214 words, but my current WIP is over 64k now and will easily pass 100k by the time I’m done with it.

4. Shortest fic: Miraculously Alive clocks in at a measly 767 words.

5. Most hits: Breathe Easy

6. Most kudos: Still Breathe Easy, but let’s mix this up and talk about a different fic for a second - Fresh Onion Soup is in second place by kudos!

7. Most comment thread: Take a wild guess - I’ll give you a hint, it’s Breathe Easy.

8. Fave Fic you wrote: I know I keep talking about it, but I’m extremely proud of Breathe Easy just because it hits a lot of those good good emotions that I love when I read fic, and because it’s an accomplishment as it’s my longest. But in the interest of sharing about another one, I’m still extremely fond of Hindsight, as it was the first fic I wrote and published, so it holds a special place in my heart for that reason.

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: I don’t really want to do anything with the fics I have up on AO3 at the moment, I like them as they are. Of course I’ve got my current WIP and a couple other story snippets that may become more later. But when I was in high school I was really into A Series of Unfortunate Events, and I started writing a fourteenth book for fun. If I can ever find the drafts from that, I would love to try finishing it someday!

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea you’re planning:

Gonna stick this under the cut as it’s a little long, but here’s a little rough dialogue I wrote this morning in which Lucretia meets a certain reaper for the first time!

“Can I ask, how did you find us up here?” Lucretia asked, eyeing the man before her with curiosity and suspicion.

“A new moon appeared in the sky, seemingly out of nowhere. Of course I’m going to investigate.”

“So you...you’re actually surprised by that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Hmm.” Lucretia sipped her tea thoughtfully. “Let’s just say that I put some, ah...security measures in place. Measures which should prevent the layman at least from recognizing this particular moon as new. So your ability to see this moon as novel, it...well, it does come as a surprise. However, it may simplify our communications for the purposes of this negotiation.”

“This is quite the operation you’re putting together here,” the man said. “I admit I’ve seen some of the construction happening, and...building a whole new moon? It’s quite an impressive feat. But may I ask why?”

“Hmm.” Lucretia set her tea down and considered the question. “Where better to have a secret base but where people I don’t want involved literally cannot go? At least, that’s what I thought, until you showed up tonight.”

“But what do you need a secret base for?” the man asked, ignoring Lucretia’s clear implication that he was not welcome here.

“I intend to save this world from a threat it does not know exists. And I prefer to keep it that way.”

“What kind of threat?”

“A world-ending one.”

“Hmm.” The man sipped the tea Davenport had poured for him, moving carefully, as if he was unsure he was doing it correctly. “And if there is a world-ending threat imminent, why keep it a secret?”

Lucretia eyed him carefully, considering how much she could trust this man before her with her secrets. She didn’t know him at all, and while he seemed sincere, she was naturally hesitant to share more information with him than absolutely necessary. But he had already found her here, despite all her precautions, and he seemed, at least so far, to be unaffected by Fisher’s power. It was unnerving - how many minds were untouched like his? But he was a threat, to both Davenport and herself, to her whole operation, and she saw no way to make him back down except to make him understand the gravity of their situation, to know the importance of what she was doing.

“Do you have memory of the Relic Wars?” she ventured.

“Of course,” he answered, leaning forward in curiosity.

“That’s another curious thing about you. Most don’t. Because of what I’ve done, the people of this world aren’t even aware that they happened. But you work in Death. Surely you remember the effects. I would be correct in thinking you saw the numbers, didn’t you? Of people who died. You would probably know better than most how serious the consequences of those wars were.” He nodded grimly, and she continued. “I put a stop to those wars. It was me. As I said, no one else remembers them. They have no memory of the wars, or of the Relics that caused them. I did this. It was terrible, but it had to be done. Because of what I did, the wars ceased. I saved millions of lives by doing what I did, and I intend to save more. That’s what this base is for. Because there is something more terrible than the Relics coming, and without someone to do something about it, the entire world will be lost. Not just Faerun - the entire planar system. Both my home and yours will be lost, unless I do something about it. That is why I am here - because I intend to save this world from certain destruction.”

#my writing #taz #taz fic #lucretia #kravitz

1 note · View note

kira-ani-mcgrath · 6 years ago

Photo

I am redeemed You set me free So I'll shake off these heavy chains And wipe away every stain Now I'm not who I used to be I am redeemed

"Redeemed" by Big Daddy Weave

I drew this picture specifically to go with the personal story below the cut. Thank you in advance if you take the time to read it, but no worries if you don't. Either way, have a wonderful day.

Late December 2018 was when the Frozen II calendar leak began circulating. Included in the leak was information on the Russian caption for the page, translated to be a vague movie summary. This plot teaser stated that the group (Anna, Elsa, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven) would be heading north into the forest due to some Arendelle-related mystery.

This was a bit of a let-down for me. You see, since my initial introduction to Frozen in 2013, I have been hoping and praying that the inevitable sequel would include Hans' redemption as part of the narrative (for various reasons that are too lengthy to detail here). Such a plot thread would be easier to accomplish if Frozen II involved travel to some other kingdom (or multiple kingdoms), especially the Southern Isles. With the information revealed in the plot spoiler, it was harder to picture a scenario where Hans would join the rest of the gang for an adventure. Yes, it could be done, but it would be more convoluted, possibly to the point of not being an option altogether. Perhaps I was being too pessimistic, but there was no denying the fact that I was feeling rather down about Frozen II.

A few days later, I was driving home with the radio on, but I wasn't paying attention to it. Instead, I was once again mulling over various ways Hans could be redeemed in Frozen II. Yet the more I considered possible scenarios, the more it seemed that the movie's revealed plot would make Hans' redemption an unrealistic feat. I reached the end of my train of thought, and, feeling disheartened, mentally chided myself, "I should just give up. Hans isn't going to be redeemed in Frozen 2."

At that precise moment, the opening notes of "Redeemed" began to play on the radio. Being quite familiar with the song, I immediately laughed and pointed an index finger to the sky. Not only was the title of the song the exact word my mind had just used, but I have long associated this song with Hans (one of many songs, but also one of my favorites). I had no doubt this was the Lord confirming something to me, as this was not the first time such a "coincidental" occurrence has happened.

It's important to know that, in the years since Frozen, I have created (and am still creating) multiple fanworks that posit different takes on how a Hans redemption could come about (and that's not including all the ideas I've had that aren't developed enough for full-fledged works). There have been several times when I've questioned the value of creating such things, only to have affirmation of my work come from unexpected sources at just the right time. Additionally, I have had many such question-and-confirmation experiences in my life, as well as a noticeable increase in the quantity of such instances within the past several months (albeit unrelated to Frozen and instead dealing with various other matters, such as my faith, my most recent pregnancy, and random everyday life things). Thus, when this specific incident occurred, I immediately recognized it as yet another such moment.

Since that night in December, I'd been internally debating sharing this anecdote with the world. Every few days or so my mind would recall the incident and I'd consider posting about it, but I'd always end up deciding against it. After all, it is highly personal, and it takes quite a bit of explaining to impart the importance of this experience (and I'm still leaving out personal details which make it much more powerful to me). This went on for some time. In mid-late February, I was once again musing upon the occurrence and whether or not I should share it. I jokingly thought to God: "If I hear 'Redeemed' on the radio this morning I'll take it as a sign I'm supposed to share this." And, since you are reading this post, you must know where this is going. I already had the radio on, and after getting back in my vehicle after child drop-off, I flicked through my presets to find a song I wanted to listen to. And, lo and behold, my second-to-last preset was playing the first verse of "Redeemed." (Granted, all of my presets are Christian radio stations, so that does put the odds more in favor of my "wager" coming true. On the other hand, the song is from 2012. That means it's 7 years old, and I honestly didn’t hear the song very often at the time, as more recent songs get played much more frequently. In my mind, the proposition was a joke, but I suppose I should have known better, since a lot of my recent question-and-confirmation experiences have been me joking and God proceeding to do the thing.) And thus, here we are. The large time gap between the second occurrence and this post is because 1) I take a while to get my thoughts out and refine them into something fit for public eyes, especially in a personal case such as this one, 2) it seemed appropriate to do some art to go with this, since I've been lacking in productivity in the creative departments for some time, and 3) life things requiring my attention.

On an interesting side note, I had three additional confirmations of this post while I was working on it.

#1) When I said, "There have been several times when I've questioned the value of creating such things, only to have affirmation of my work come from unexpected sources at just the right time," there's a particular incident that sticks out to me. One night in 2016, I stayed up late finishing chapter nine of my fanfiction, Frozen: Sacrifice and Forgiveness. Even though I posted the chapter, I was really depressed about it. Thoughts such as, "Is this really something I should be investing so much time in?" and "Does God actually want me to write this story?" weighed heavily on my mind, though I kept them to myself. After some internal arguing, I directed an unspoken question to the Lord: "Is this really what I should be doing?" Not much later, before going to bed, I checked my phone and saw an email from FF.net saying I had a comment on the latest F:SaF chapter. The comment was from a fellow Christian who had read through the posted chapters and was very encouraging about my story. It was just the right kind of affirmation at precisely the right time. Fast-forward to Wednesday, February 27th, 2019. I checked my phone in the morning and saw an email from AO3 that someone has left a comment on the last posted chapter of F:SaF. This was quite surprising, as I haven't updated the fic since September 21st, 2017. The comment was very positive, and it immediately reminded me of this post, which was a WIP in a computer document at the time. Not only did the new comment correlate to the aforementioned unexpected sources of encouragement, but F:SaF has been on my mind recently in terms of working on it again. Then, as the cherry on top, I was listening to the daily scripture reading on the radio while driving to work that morning, and the song that came on immediately afterward was "Redeemed".

#2) On Friday, March 1st, I had finished this post to my general satisfaction (as I knew it still required minor edits, plus I still had to finish my drawing) before getting ready for work. Upon entering my vehicle, I thought, "Wouldn't it be funny if 'Redeemed' played on the radio again?" I then instantly berated myself: "That's dumb. You don't need to be looking for confirmation of things all the time." I then flicked through my presets, and the first verse of "Redeemed" was playing on my second-to-last preset — the same song position and the same preset as when I was debating whether or not to make this post.

#3) On Friday, March 8th, I thought to myself as I was getting ready for work, “I really need to finish that post.” When I started my car, the radio was on, but I didn’t care for the song it was playing, so I jumped to my first preset. “Redeemed” was playing, starting from the very first word of the first verse.

Now, the question is: what was being confirmed to me with the original occurrence in December? The most straightforward answer is Hans' redemption in Frozen II. Mind you, not a redemption based on worldly methods such as "cleaning yourself up" and "earning it," but rooted in the Christian standard of unconditional love, mercy, grace, and faith. I'll admit, it seems far-fetched, given the fact that Disney is not a Christian company and the creative team has no Christians on it (AFAIK). Then again, "What is impossible with man is possible with God." Still, I have thought of other meanings for this incident. Perhaps it was simply a reminder to not get so depressed over a fictional character. Perhaps it was merely encouragement to keep going with my various fan projects, despite Frozen II looming in the distance. Perhaps it was a nudge that the sequel would contain a small hint of a future Hans redemption. Of course, that all sounds like me trying to talk myself out of trusting God for something amazing, as I am prone to doing. It's a struggle to wait on the Lord (especially for someone like me who hates surprises and wants to know things ASAP), but the truth of this incident will be revealed when the time is right.

One may wonder why God would care about a fictional character or a fictional story. It's not that He cares about those things in and of themselves, it's that He cares about His children and the salvation of humanity. My prayers (which are mostly just God-directed thoughts as I go about my day) regarding Hans' redemption were always something along the lines of, "Hey, God, it'd be really awesome if Hans gets redeemed in a way that reflects how Jesus saved us." Then I would mentally argue with myself about even making such a request, and always end at a variation of "Whatever is best, Lord." Though a fictional character's redemption is trivial in the grand scheme of things, God can use the most unexpected means to reach someone regarding a matter of eternal importance. He knows that, for me, this isn't just about a fictional character — it's about using that character's story to connect real people with the hope of the Gospel. Frozen was a movie with weak morals and a character that is looked down upon as irredeemable by the majority of viewers. If, by the grace of God, the sequel displays true love and redemption, then perhaps one soul out there will see the truth: anyone can be saved because Jesus can save anyone.

Feel free to message me if you aren't comfortable utilizing public replies or reblogs. Thank you for reading, and God bless you.

Update (Sept. 4th, 2019): So I’ve been lurking on a few Discord servers for a while now in addition to my Tumblr lurking, and overall there is a very negative attitude regarding Hans returning in F2. It’s coming from all directions: antis/haters who don’t want him in it, neutral parties who don’t see an available role for him to play, and fans who have lost hope due to lack of news. Last night I had an unpleasant dream on the subject. While the specifics are hazy, I know it involved the fandom discussing Hans’ absence in the movie. When I was going about my business this morning, I thought about the dream, this post, and the incident that brought this post into being. I mentally argued with myself, as I often do, about the situation. Lately, I too have been feeling disheartened on this matter. As I said, the fandom as a whole has been negative about this, so it was starting to get to me. In addition to that, as new leaks reveal more of the story, the chances of Hans appearing in any meaningful fashion get slimmer. However, no matter how bleak the outlook, I was given a supernatural sign to keep hope in a Hans redemption. Still, there was always the possibility I had interpreted the incident incorrectly, and adding in the other factors at play, this morning I was once again questioning God. I wanted another sign or some kind of spoiler-type proof, then scolded myself for being greedy and for seeking worldly validation of what God has said (instead of trusting Him to fulfill His promises). I had the radio on KLOVE as I was driving, and one of my “Hans songs” came on. It was a “lower tier” one (a.k.a. one I don’t like quite as much as others), so as I listened to it I thought, “It’d be nice if the next song after this was another good song, but one of the top-tier ones. It’d make me feel better about this whole thing.” Of course, I then chided myself, thinking, “Why are you always asking for stuff? Isn’t what you have already enough?” The song came to an end, and the next song began to play. It was “Redeemed.”

#Frozen 2 #Frozen II #Prince Hans #Frozen Hans #Frozen #Hans #redemption #Christian #Christianity #my art #KAM's thoughts #KAM's personal stuff #KAM's art

37 notes · View notes

aces-to-apples · 6 years ago

Text

May The Fourth Be With You (And Also With You)

I don’t have anything ready to post for May the Fourth this year, boo!, but instead I’ll steal Dharma’s idea of posting a snippet of all my applicable WIPs, yay!

“Sugar and Spice” aka The Nika Fic aka genderbent AU crosses over with canon-verse a la Universe Collisions by Sroloc_Elbisivni

The Jedi took a couple more shuddering breaths. “Anyone else need a top-up?” she asked, voice steady but gaze fixed on the dank rock wall.

Rex exchanged looks with Kix, who straightened and surveyed his patients, clearly weighing who among them could use the help. The men themselves—Onyx, left hand useless from taking a swing at a clanker when his power-pack ran out; Honeycutt, nursing a couple cracked, possibly broken, ribs; Fives, unable to stand on his right leg—shared a non-verbal conversation of their own.

“Onyx can't shoot and Fives can't walk.” Honeycutt gave up the names with vicious pragmatism, ignoring both men as they silently threatened to space him once they were back on the Vigilance.

The Jedi looked between them with a small smile—at Fives who was stubbornly trying to get to his feet in protest, at Onyx who gripped his deece in his non-dominant hand like he was contemplating bludgeoning Honeycutt with it, and at Honeycutt himself with his arms crossed over his chest, one hand subtly nursing the injured ribs. “What about you, tough guy? Need a hand?”

“I can walk and I can fight,” Honeycutt said defiantly. He jerked a thumb at the other two. “That's more than these idiots can claim, and you're the one who asked.”

“True enough,” was her easy reply, but her eyes held a challenge. “How well can you breathe, though?”

He bared his teeth at her. “Well enough to argue with you… sir.”

Rex was prepared to step between them, to apologize for Honeycutt’s disrespectful attitude, but held back another beat. As half of him suspected she would, the Jedi threw her head back and cackled.

“Oh, I like you,” she announced with a grin, the color swiftly returning to her cheeks and her eyes sparkling. “You got a name, tough guy?”

“… Honeycutt,” he replied, looking from her to Rex and back. Rex couldn't do more than shrug, because he didn't know either. “Corporal Honeycutt.”

“Pleased to meet you, Honeycutt. I'm Nika.” She held out a hand to him, palm up, and watched his eye it distrustfully, shell-pink lips curved to one side. After a second, he took it and she hauled him to his feet. “Now, let’s see what we can do about those ribs, shall we?”

(Working title:) “Friends, Foes, and Telling the Difference” aka part three of “A Non-Comprehensive Guide To Force-Sensitivity”

The boy watched their interaction with the same lackadaisical interest the young Zabrak had demonstrated during their journey. “What does the Force feel like to you?” he finally said, blinking owlishly as Dooku refused to choke on his Tarine tea and delicately cleared his throat. “When Ben talks about it, it’s all very mystical-sounding. Cool winds and noiseless whispers, like a friendly ghost or a helpful spirit. Feelings and stuff. But when Maul talks about the Force, it’s more like instincts and heightened senses. It’s more physical than, I dunno, spiritual. So I wanted to know what it’s like for you.”

“That,” Dooku replied, placing his teacup on the table just so, “is a very personal question, young Skywalker.”

Anakin tilted his head innocently and said, “Oh, is it?” but his even his shields—well-made and well-maintained both from within and without—do poorly to contain the bright, bubbling amusement he was polite enough to hold back. Clearly, he knew very well what he was doing, and Dooku had to admire the tenacity of a such a young boy teasing a Jedi Master whilst genuinely seeking information.

He hummed pointedly and stared the unrepentant boy down, but considered the question in earnest. Knowledge for the sake of knowledge was a worthy pursuit. “Your brothers,” Dooku said the word carefully, weighing its meaning as he met the boy’s eyes, “were both correct. The Force can manifest in various ways, and it’s likely different for every being who experiences it. For many, whether they purposefully follow the ways of the Force or not, it acts in a more passive manner: a feeling of wrongness when danger is near, a keen sense of distrust when one is being deceived, or even just a quiet knowledge of where to go or what to say at a certain moment.”

Young Skywalker nodded thoughtfully, his eyes far away. “That’s very interesting, sir,” he said after a moment. “I think Ben will like you, if you ever meet. You both talk the same way, like you’ll get a prize at the end of the day for how many questions you can avoid answering. That, or he’ll hate your guts. It’s hard to say with Ben.”

Queen Amidala smothered a giggle.

“Well,” Dooku drawled, picking his tea back up, “Maul seems determined to dislike myself and my companion, so I think not.”

The boy shrugged and gulped down the rest of his milk with a grin. “Maybe, maybe not,” he cheerfully declared. “Those two disagree so much, I think it’s on purpose. Mom says they were like two tomcats until I was born, always arguing and hissing at each other, so Ben might decide he likes you just to be contrary.”

“An interesting way to raise a child,” Dooku noted, dry as the desert air outside. “If they disagree so often, you must have quite a bit of conflicting information on a great many topics.”

“Dab’ika Vaar’kara” aka the Camp Half-Blood AU an anon accidentally requested when they combined “summer camp” and “magical accidents” during a trope mash-up ask meme

“Now, as new arrivals, you're given a certain amount of leeway when it comes to the rules, regulations, and realities of living in the Godsworld.” Rex fixed the little ones—nearly fourteen and just barely scraping in under the wire in regards to the required claiming age—with a hard stare. “After orientation, you will be expected to either figure out what you don't know yourself or keep your trap shut. Understood, cadets?”

It was a blatant lie, of course; Cody could already see Kix’s bunk littered with sheets of flimsi covered in drawings, diagrams, and written explanations. Still, it was the spirit of the thing, yeah? A’sev had scared them witless when they’d first arrived at camp, and now that he was off doing Paladin shit, it fell to them to keep the tradition alive. It was a beautiful cycle, really, and watching the tiny shinies straighten up and shout “sir, yes, sir” like Rex was a fucking drill sergeant was hilarious.

“First off,” Rex continued, beginning to pace rather impressively in front of the duo. Cody had a hard time not joining the boys in their next snickerfit. “Congratulations on surviving your first monster encounter—besting an abaia while it’s got a home-field advantage is no easy feat. You did yourselves, and all your brothers, proud.”

The rookies straightened up that much more under the praise and Cody felt his need to smirk warring with the impulse to coo. “Whose idea was it to get it to charge into the rocks?” he asked curiously. They'd taken bets, watching from the shore.

“Mine, sir,” the one with the crew-cut said, taking a small step forward. A ripple spread through the cabin as they all noticed he'd subtly placed himself between his twin and Rex. That kind of body-language, combined with the late claiming, didn't bode well.

“Well done,” Rex acknowledged with a nod. “It was reckless, but well-executed. Just the kind of thinking we need in Mandalore Cabin. You got a name, shiny?”

“Ferdinand, sir,” the kid said without any hint of irony. They all winced in sympathy, because yeesh. “This is Emrys.”

Seeing that Rex didn't quite know how to phrase it, Cody asked, “You boys got nicknames?”

Their reaction was… worrying.

“Sir, no, sir,” Ferdinand—poor fucking kid—immediately denied, panic well-hidden to anyone not used to reading every variation of the face the Mand’alor’s poor decisions had stuck them all with. “We’re proud to carry these names and would never—”

“Anyone here calls me Emrys, I’ll break their fucking nose,” the long-haired twin cut in, stepping forward so that they stood shoulder to shoulder. “Got it?”

“Blood On The Ice” aka the Skyrim AU that I’ve world-built wayyyy more than I’ve actually written

The first glimpse of Coruscant—snow-dusted, crumbled stone reeking of despair—holds true as Ahsoka enters the city proper. Barrels of supplies do little to mask its deepening poverty when the cobblestones themselves shift beneath her feet.

A little Human girl, clad only in a threadbare red dress, entreats her to buy a wildflower and Ahsoka’s heart breaks at the girl’s gratitude when she agrees. She’d heard of Skyrim’s civil war back home, but had thought the children would be spared from adult pettiness. In Valenwood, the Green cares for younglings nearly as much as their parents; in the home and hold of the Storm-Hand, it seems, children shiver and starve. Not yet an hour in his hold, Ahsoka finds herself unimpressed with the rebellious Human king.

Unsure which path to take from her ingress, she chooses randomly and goes right.

Lined with homes and shops in various states of disrepair, Ahsoka regrets her choice until she spots an older gentleman lingering in a doorway. Her shoulders slump with relief to see one of her Twi’lek cousins, even bundled in the furs and leathers needed in the harsh Skyrim climate, rather than colorful Morrowind silks.

“Greetings, nerra,” she says warmly, stepping closer and holding out a hand.

The man appears nonplussed for a moment but replies with an affable, “Welcome, numa,” and clasps her forearm. “Are you new to Coruscant, gida?” he asks, nodding at her bow and daggers. “Most elves know better than to appear before the Stormhands so armed.”

untitled time-travel fic currently referred to in-house as “first battle of geonosis time-travel fic” aka this fic

And on it goes, a litany of ghosts and brothers lost to the stars. He matches numbers to names as they speak through the darkness: Fives and Echo, Jesse, Hardcase, and Kix, Onyx and Honeycutt, Razzy, Ringo, Tup—even Dogma, quietest and most hesitant of all. The barest bones of Torrent Company; eleven dead men walking, and Rex makes a full squad.

Numbers are and ever will be your greatest strength, your keenest advantage, he recalls the woman saying at one point, somewhere between his failed intruder alert and the imperious wave of her hand that sent him to his knees, heaving.

“Where the frip’s my bucket,” a voice gripes—Ringo, by the sound of it. The only reply he receives beyond repetitions of the same question, “Prob’ly right where you left it,” comes from Razzy, no question. It's both a relief and a punch to the gut to hear Ringo gripe, “Umbara, then, with the rest of me.”

“Oh, hey, mine too,” Hardcase pipes up, saying it like a joke, like it was funny. “Anyone else kick it on that sith-hole?”

“Yeah, Krell,” Five answers into the uncomfortable silence. It sounds like he’s smiling; the smile doesn’t sound very nice.

“Ori’haat?” Hardcase says, intrigued and vaguely impressed. “You do the honors?”

And finally, “chasing a dream” aka the summary and first couple sentences of the Treasure Planet AU that I absolutely forgot I was going to write at some point

Her name isn’t Hawkins. The cyborg isn’t silver. And the closest thing she has to a father isn’t a caninoid species. They’ve got the makings of greatness in them all the same.

Ahsoka is six years old when she meets her very best friend in the whole wide galaxy. He's a Guardian—only a little one, though, like she's only a little Jedi—and he's got the same warm brown skin and golden-brown eyes that his brothers do, but he's also got a bunch of bright yellow hair.

#may the fourth be with you #by apples #star wars #the clone wars #fic bits #skyrim au #treasure planet au #camp half-blood au #nika fic #a non-comprehensive guide to force-sensitivity #time-travel

21 notes · View notes

leonajasmin-writeblr · 6 years ago

Text

Ten Questions Tag

I got tagged in the same game thrice so while it’s a 10 Questions tag, I have thirty to do haha. Thanks for the tag @booksandsass , @nemothepenguin and @jmichines!

Do you remember your first writing project? What was it?

I do! The first thing I wrote was a 38K novella when I was six. It was about two girls in their young teens (I think one was 13 and one was 14, I can’t remember) who always ended up going to this ice cream shop. Their teacher was their best friend and I named one character after part of my name backwards. It’s cringy, but I’m still proud to say I completed such a feat at a young age.

What do you think is the hardest part of writing?

Finding where to explain things, such as appearance, location, lore etc. I know all of it, I just find it hard to say all I need to without it being an info dump haha

If you could give your younger self some writing advice, what would it be?

STOP GOING ON DAMN HIATUSES GIRL

What kind of research do you do for your WIP?

I do a little research on physics (such as how lifts work) and injuries but most of it is how things look steampunk style since there’s a slight hint at that in my novel.

How many hours a week do you write?

It depends on how much university work I have to do (I study online), whether I’m travelling and how much energy I have. Probably 10 hours tops a week but sometimes I’ll do nothing.

How long do you wait before you begin editing your first draft?

Six weeks, unless I know I’ve made a major booboo niggling in my head. Then I’ll resolve that and leave the rest.

What are your personal ethics when it comes to writing?

I’m not 100% sure I’ve gotten this question right but my stories are quite dark, although not explicitly so. My characters go through a tonne of crap in all honesty, although for the reader, it isn’t as bad.

Do you recycle old ideas or abandon them?

Recycle. I’ve already decided to use the first line of a Fan Fiction I wrote in 2014 later on in the Mastery series.

Which character is your favourite and why?

I tend to shift my favourite character based on what book I’m writing.

In book 1 of the series, it’s Roman. He’s a bit of a mystery to the others and they’re not sure how to react to him, but he’s just a cute little idealist in a world of pessimists.

In book 2, it’s Rylan. Some of his lines are my favourite I’ve written so far.

In book 3, it’s Jonathon. His personality is one of the most animated in the series and his back and current stories are some of the most complex I’ve made. One chapter I’ve written in his POV is one of my favourites too.

What do you love most about your favourite character from your WIP?

Again, I’ll answer with the same characters.

Roman: He’s an absolute sweetheart despite being surrounded by salty assholes and continues his precious ways even when they insult him for them

Rylan: He’s private and little is revealed about him. But he’s intelligent and could easily become a much worse villain if he wanted to. Dangerous boi.

Jonathon: Kind of like Roman, he’s an optimist despite everything that’s happened to him. And boy, does he have an angsty af backstory.

What would you consider success for your current WIP?

The fact I’m still working on it nearly 10 years later

If you were stuck on a deserted island, which one of your characters would you bring with you?

I guess it’d have to be Sebastian. He’s rude quite a lot of the time but really resourceful.

What would your characters’ day jobs be in real life? And if your WIP is set on Earth, which jobs would be most fitting for them and why?

Ooooh I love this question! I do have a lot of characters to answer with though and since this is the sort of thing I love imagining, I’m doing it with a huge bunch of ‘em haha

Alex is into the arts and only joined the Protectionary Guard as he didn’t see his art career going anywhere. So if he could make do with his art, he’d do that.

Sebastian would be in some sort of detective agency. One where he’d be able to kick ass. Then he’d get sacked for inappropriate behaviour and become a Martial Arts instructor or something along those lines.

Miriam would do something in the medical profession, but something less people-based. She’d be the sort to sit in a lab all day studying concoctions.

Aiden would have a normal office job during the day (knowing his family, it’d be he’s the heir to a company) and then volunteer as a cubs/scouts leader in the evenings.

Noah would work in IT, probably programming.

Cyrus builds motorbikes to fit in with his idealisms of escape, so he’d be into a travel-related career, such as travel writing/blogging, doing affiliate marketing and writing e-books to earn an income. Maybe an e-commerce store. While he isn’t the brightest, he’s a hard-worker.

Roman is training to be a lawyer and I can see him doing that in a Earth AU as well.

Phineas would be a librarian or a teacher for older students, probably a university lecturer or something like that, for a social science or language.

Dimitri would be a business owner, one of those really dickish ones.

Luka would probably be in Dimitri’s business, grumbling about his boss every ten seconds saying how he plans to make a rival business when he has enough money.

Rylan lowkey loves fashion and textiles and so I can see him working in a dinky little sewing shop and then selling stuff on Etsy or something along those lines as a side hustle.

Meline would be a professional athlete, probably in tennis since that’s her usual sport.

Jonathon would be the sort to make documentaries out in the wilderness and would take bets on whether he’ll survive doing stuff. He always does, and yet he still has people paying him. Witty prick.

Romulus would drive lorries. They’re similar to, but less interesting, his airships.

Who of your OC’s would break first under high pressure or under psychological manipulation/torture?

It’d be between Miriam and Aiden, depending on how personal the manipulation is. More distant? Aiden. More personal? Miriam.

Would you sacrifice your favourite character if it meant getting published? (As in would you remove them from the book as a condition set by the publisher?)

(I’m doing main instead of favourite okie dokie) Alex would be a nosiree no way whereas I think it’d be easier for me to part with Phoenix and Eirik. I’d still be reluctant though.

What is your go-to scene? (For example, I tend to open my books with the weather forecast to set the atmosphere before going to the characters and actions happening at that time)

A fight with a fairly unimportant antagonist. I always start my POV chapters with a certain style. Miriam’s is questions, Alex’s is dialogue, Phoenix’s is a long drone and Eirik’s is short sentences.

What is your least favourite genre to write in and why?

Contemporary as I get pretty bored. Where’s the death and fighting?

Which author would you like to trade styles with for a single book?

Me, but a good author. If you find out who that is, tell me please.

What was the weirdest thing that inspired a scene/character/story/name/place/etc.?

Miriam’s surname is after my dog as they both have amber eyes (Arnie -> Arnette)

Which POV is your favourite to write in and how do you choose which one to use for a certain WIP?

I prefer writing in first person! If it’s character arc-based then I will use first but if it’s more plot-based I will use third.

What style of writing do you prefer? Simple language, something more poetic, or something else?

I prefer simple but tend to have a philosophical main character so it ends up being a blend once you get to know the character

What’s your pet peeve when it comes to writing - the thing that would make you insta-toss the book?

The main character is a Mary Sue/Gary Stu

What’s your favourite cliché?

If you’re talking about technique, it’ll be rule of three. If you’re talking about plot cliché’s, it’s enemies to lovers/besties.

Which of your OCs would you want to hang out with in real life? Conversely, who would you not touch with a 10-foot pole?

I’d like to hang out with Roman! I’d say we’re similar enough in personality to get along.

Lawrence can LEAVE.

What’s your favourite type of character? (I have a weird thing for anti-heroes and geniuses)

Gonna have to agree with the brackets ;)

Which story do you wish you could have written (can be a novel, movie, game, etc.)

1984 or any good alternate futures. I’m a sucker for this genre so if you have recommendations please tell me.

Which of your OCs just absolutely eludes your comprehension? Like no matter what you do, you just can’t figure them out?

Kristoph.

What are you most proud of when it comes to your writing? Can be a character, a concept/world, even your style of writing.

Being able to come up with a complex plot and keeping track of it without having to write it all down.

Which of your stories do you think would make an awesome movie?

I think Experimentation would be more popular but I’d love to see Schadenfreude as a film!

Lastly (since we all do this), name an OC and your dream casting for them.

You’re wrong, buddy chum pal. I don’t do this.

I don’t watch films or series so know literally no actors bar the really famous ones.

To be honest, my creativeness isn’t working at all so for those who I tag, I’m going to let you pick out 10 of your favourites from the questions above. And the three people I’m going to tag are: @westywrites, @ahotpeaceofshit and @thel3tterm!

5 notes · View notes