#yep i wrote a novel

[hummingbird-games]

Dev Diaries

February 2nd, 2025

Wait...who's that familiar looking boy??

If you're reading this, GO PLAY THE NEW HSD:JY 2 UPDATE!!!

Do it!!! Dooo ittttt!!!

(and then come back in a few weeks for my team's Black VN game jam entry Oh, Boy)

[lavender-twilight23]

IMPROMPTU FANFICTION TED TALK

I’m gonna address something that I have thought about recently and then also give a little pep talk to anybody else that might be feeling this way or in a similar way:

Fanfiction is a valid form of expression and it’s okay to write fanfiction, no matter your age, no matter your life circumstance!

Recently, I’ve had doubts about whether or not I should still be writing fanfiction. I’m in my second semester of college, pursuing film, and I have plenty of original stories (three novels, four screenplays) floating around in my head that I keep telling myself I should get back into. But I still find myself feverishly writing fanfiction and pouring heaps of creative energy into that. And especially with how much fucking fanfiction I’ve written in the past six months, (over 201,000 words worth) I’ve had tons of thoughts like:

“You’re pursuing your passions, looking toward the future into your career ambitions, AT COLLEGE, and you’re STILL writing fanfiction?”

“It’s ridiculous how much fanfiction you’re churning out with all the original stories you have sitting in the back of your head that need to get written.”

“You’re wasting your time writing fanfiction, you should be investing your time into your original works, y’know, the things that are ACTUALLY gonna get released into the world one day.”

“You not gonna get paid for writing fanfiction– put more energy into writing the stories that you’ll actually end up getting paid to write rather than spending your time writing things that will only ever seen the light of a social media website.”

And shit like that. So I have thought recently: Why are you still writing fanfiction now that you’re taking active steps toward pursuing your dreams? Why are you writing THIS MUCH fanfiction when you should be spending your creative time working on your films/original novels?

Yep. So I guess some sort of guilt, or self-deprecation about writing fanfiction. And not just about the fanfiction writing itself, but also about HOW MUCH fanfiction I’ve been writing, to a point where I either 1) always have a project going, something I’m in the middle of, 2) always something next on my queue (I literally wrote a whole fanfic queue and color coded it to organize it for future fanfics and I have a huge-ass note on my phone/computer dedicated to recording/brainstorming ideas), or 3) spend more time in my fanfic-planning journal than taking notes for my college classes.

I’m doing well in classes and all that shit, but still, I find myself feeling bad that I write so much fanfiction, so to both combat that, and to give validation to others who might be hesitant about writing fanfiction as I've felt in the past:

IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY, IT’S VALID, AND YOU SHOULD KEEP DOING IT.

If it brings you joy, it has a purpose in your life. Fanfiction is just yet another way to express love for something you like, something you love, and that obsession comes out as passion, which has to be expressed, and it’s no different than drawing fan art, making edits, or even any hobby that ISN’T directly tied to a fandom.

If writing fanfiction is how you prefer to spend your creative time, then it has a place in how you live your life.

If it makes you happy and brings you joy, then it has a reason for being in your life.

Fanfiction has a purpose in your life, let it fulfill that purpose.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

Carry on. ❤️🩷🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

[just--vi]

2024 in Fanfic

In 2023 I wrote 185,542 words, and in 2024 I wrote 185,996, so at least I'm consistent?

I think it's interesting to look back at my 'goals' of 2024: Write something other than a Muggle AU (failed), convince everyone to ship Moonchaser (halfway there), write more smut (nailed it), read more (honestly, kind of nailed that too).

In 2025 I want to care less, write whatever I want, finally get that Armageddon AU out, and read ~even more~.

Anyway, here's what I did this year!

For the Love of Ducks - Wolfstar, started in 2023, finished in 2024.

Remus Lupin has always been sick, and he'd just like to feel normal for once. Sirius Black seems like the perfect man with a perfect, exciting life.

The Art of Getting Off - Jegulus

Regulus is a demisexual romance author who has one big hangup: Smut. After a mountain of bad reviews on his latest novel, an awkward meeting with his publisher, and a conversation with Remus, he decides to take the leap. Unfortunately the only person he really wants to sleep with is James Potter. Alternative title: "The art of fucking your brother's best friend six ways from Sunday without falling in love in the process."

Happily Never After - Jegulus

It’s a flurry of limbs. James doesn’t waste a second pulling him inside - or maybe that’s for practicality sake. If Sirius saw them together he’d lose it on account of them being them, and if Remus saw them together he’d lose it on account of it being the night before his wedding. Or, Regulus and James are friends with benefits. All hell breaks loose.

And They Were Roommates! - Wolfstar

Sirius scoffs, and when Remus doesn’t turn around to look at him says, “Face it Moony, you’re drying up. You need me.” “What?” Remus laughs tightly, squirting an aggressive amount of soap in the sink and twisting the tap with a little more viciously than it probably deserves. “So, you’re planning on playing wingman all night?” “Yep,” Sirius says, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “And you’ll play wingman for me. It’ll be perfect.” Or, living with Remus Lupin is torture. Thankfully, Sirius has a plan to address the tension.

Deerly Beloved - Prongsfoot

Over a night in the pub a series of escalating dares result in Sirius and James waking up married. It should be quick and easy to fix the mistake by getting an annulment, so why are they dragging their feet?

Love at First Bloom - Wolfstar

Remus Lupin took over his mother's flower shop after the passing of his parents. Now, he splits his time between catering to the floral needs of sleepy Hogsmeade village and pining helplessly over the devastatingly handsome man who buys weekly arrangements for his boyfriend.

Wreck the Halls - Jegulus

When Regulus is invited to spend Christmas with Sirius and the Potters, the last thing he expects is for James to bring a brand new boyfriend home for the holidays.

[vidavalor]

Leave the Gun, Eat a Damn Cannoli

Satan to The Metatron like...

And Aziraphale all like...

And Satan all... going with me is not actually a choice, really, Az, I mean, wait 'til I actually get to the 'offer you can't refuse' part...

You ever see 'The Godfather', Az? I know you have.

You remember the film producer that wouldn't give Johnny Fontane the role in that movie? Do you remember how The Godfather forced his hand? The producer was a bit tough to crack at first until they realized what he loved more than anything in the world, remember?

His horse.

Do you remember what they did to get that guy to play ball, Az?

They killed the horse, chopped off its head, and left it in the guy's bed when he was sleeping. He woke up soaked in its blood and screamed the house down. It's one of the most notorious and disturbing scenes in cinematic history. Don't worry, though-- we're gonna do that shit a bit more symbolically here. Think of it as more of an allusion to the film than a literal recreation.

Your horse is Crowley. Amusingly, both euphemistically and symbolically. He's who you love more than anything else. We can also get in his head because he's a demon so there's that bit of the "horse head" in here as well, just for dark amusement.

Instead of killing him, though, which will just tick you off and make you harder to tempt to Hell and get out of the way for Armageddon 2: Armageddon Returns, we're gonna make you an offer you can't refuse:

Crowley's safety.

Yeah, I'm going to show up as The Metatron and tempt you by offering the one thing you would never refuse--no matter how slim the odds of the offer being true seemed-- because you have no choice. You would do anything to keep Crowley safe. Anything. Your unconditional love would be beautiful if I weren't evil incarnate and all that.

I mean, of all the nebulas for my stooge to reference, right?

Just FYI-- we watch more than Mary Poppins down here. This bit below is from 1941, so, really, Shax ghost-wrote part of the novel and film, apparently...

The show we're in has been telegraphing allusions to this film as a thing for awhile now, actually, Aziraphale... you rejecting oranges in 1601... Gabriel and the spilled tomatoes out of the wooden crates in the marketplace in 2.01... the fact that he then spent a chunk of S2 taking a nap in your house after betraying us, so, that Luca Brasi Gabriel was doing a form of, well...

...sleeping with the fishes...

...but really, ya know, the strongest suggestion of all this The Godfather referencing was when those writers of our show told us how it was tied to how you wind up going Down-- way back in the first episode. You foreshadowed it, actually...

You said it yourself then, Aziraphale:

Yep. That's the idea.

[mrs-dr-reid]

Letters Addressed to the Fire

(A Gale Dekarios Fic)

Pairing: Gale Dekarios x Female!Tav!Reader

Summary: Tav finds the letter Gale wrote for her in case he used the Orb, and he walks in on her reading it

Genre: Angsty af, but then fluff because ouch

Warnings: Direct transcripts of The Letter used (iykyk), crying, discussions of death/self-sacrifice, Gale being a human Jane Austen novel, un-beta’d (in the words of my discord friend, Pom, “no beta we die like hubris filled wizards” 😂)

A/N: Yep. I’m writing for Baldur’s Gate now. I got this idea from the comment section on a TikTok, and my masochist of a writer brain immediately started formulating this, so I apologize in advance for any feels you feel due to this fic

Word Count: 1255

———————————————————————

Who would have guessed that a simple page of parchment could derail an entire day’s worth of plans so quickly?

Tav had finally settled into a routine in Waterdeep with her beloved and his tressym, and decided she would get some chores done while Gale was out running errands. Summit fever kicked in, and she cleaned the kitchen, the living room, and their shared bedroom before making her way to the library to tidy things up a little bit.

She was organizing some papers that were strewn about on Gale’s desk when she came across a tri-folded piece of parchment with her name written on it in what she recognized as Gale’s handwriting despite it looking rather rushed. Tav’s eyebrows furrowed, and she sat on the edge of the desk before unfolding the parchment and beginning to read:

“My love,

Firstly - forgive the scrawled nature of this note. My handwriting is no match for the netherbrain’s tremors. Or perhaps my hands shake of their own accord. At this juncture, it is difficult to tell.”

Tav’s breath caught in her throat when she saw the word “netherbrain”, because it told her exactly when Gale had written this letter, and she was suddenly terrified of what she might read next. Nevertheless, her morbid curiosity got the better of her, and her eyes continued to flit down the page:

“Do not misunderstand me - I am not afraid to die. But I am afraid of what I might leave behind me. That my sacrifice might hurt you so that your life becomes an echo of my own, your chest corrupted by heartache as mine once was by the orb.

I hope and pray it is not the case - that in the time since I left you, you have lived a life full of beauty, happiness, and wonder. That is what I will picture when the time comes. Only you. You were all I ever needed.”

It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over her and stabbed her through the heart with a flaming sword simultaneously as Tav digested the script she held in her hands. Gale had planned to use the Orb to defeat the Netherbrain? He had fully intended to lay his life down for the survival of the group? For her? He hadn’t, that was abundantly clear as she was currently awaiting his arrival home from town, but why else would he have written this letter? Tav clutched the parchment tighter in her hands as she read on:

“You are calling to me - I have truly run out of time. But you will not - that I promise. When this is over, your life begins anew. Treasure it, as I treasured you. That is all I ask.

Yours forever,

Gale”

Tav didn’t realize she was crying until two teardrops dampened the parchment next to Gale’s signature, and by then it was too late to stop the river of tears streaming down her face, so she simply clutched the letter to her chest and let her emotions take over. She was vaguely aware of someone calling her name from somewhere else in the tower, but she was too swept up in her feelings to acknowledge it.

Gale came striding into the library while saying, “Ah, there you are, Darling! No wonder you weren’t answering me. Have you been cleaning this whole time…?”, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the state Tav was in. His cheerfulness instantly melted into concern, and he said, “Darling, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Did something happen?”, while walking over to her.

Tav held up the letter, and Gale’s face paled within milliseconds of registering what it was. Tav sniffled, then said, “Were you ever going to tell me about this?”, her voice breaking on the last word as more tears threatened to burst forth. Gale hung his head with a sigh, and Tav choked back a sob when he muttered, “I thought I’d burned that,” sorrow and shame lacing every syllable.

Gale scrubbed a hand down his face and let out another long sigh before he said, “You’re smart enough to know what that letter meant so I won’t mince words: Yes, I was going to use the Orb and sacrifice myself to defeat the Netherbrain. But I realized something; it would have been exactly what Mystra wanted, and I didn’t give a rat’s arse about impressing her anymore,” making Tav furrow her eyebrows at his harsh words towards his former goddess.

He stepped closer to her, and took her hand in his while saying, “Since the minute you pulled me out of that rock, you’ve seen all of me for who I truly am. To you, I’m not The Wizard of Waterdeep, Mystra’s Chosen; I’m just Gale Dekarios. And that’s all I care about being now. You changed my life for the better, Tav, so it was only fair that I live it to the fullest and not cut it short in a reckless act of self-sacrifice. I love you more than I could ever express in words alone, and I’m truly sorry you found that letter without me being here to explain myself,” his eyes starting to glisten with emotion.

Tav cupped his face in her hand, then said, “I love you, too, Gale. And I’m sorry for sticking my nose into your personal matters even if it was for cleaning purposes,” earning a small chuckle from Gale before he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Tav let out a content sigh, then started giggling to herself. Gale shot her an amused look, then said, “What’s so funny, My Love?”, so Tav said, “I came in here to clean, and now I’m crying all over your desk,” through her giggles while wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Gale chuckled and said, “I suppose that is a humorous situation, even if the circumstances are less so,” before peppering kisses all over Tav’s face, making her squeal and thump his chest playfully. She looked him in his eyes and said, “Can you promise me that you won’t keep things like this from me ever again?”, so Gale put her hand to his chest where the Orb once was, then said, “You have my word, Darling,” his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand comfortingly.

Tav smiled at him, then said, “Thank you. I have other things I need to do, but honestly, I’d much rather just eat and go to bed and leave them for a later time,” which made a snort escape Gale before he replied, “I certainly can’t blame you for that. Shall we?”, and offered his arm to her. She accepted it, and the two of them exited the library together, but not before Gale took the letter from her and set it on fire with a flick of his wrist.

He said, “For now and forevermore, I choose you. Until I draw my last breath, you will always be my first choice,” and pressed a kiss to the back of Tav’s hand, making her giggle before replying, “And I will always choose you, My Love,” and stroking his cheek affectionately.

The two of them spent the rest of the evening indulging in a home-cooked meal and basking in the glow of their new life together, and as they fell into an easy conversation brought about by Tav mentioning they received a handful of letters from their former adventuring companions, it brought about an unspoken promise of undying devotion and love.

———————————————————————

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to my Baldur’s Gate taglist!

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

A Bastard's Carol: a work of fanfiction by scumbaganarchy 💣

Season's greetings, scumbags! I hope you're all having a pleasant day. I come bearing a gift (of a sort):

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1we8qEVul2PTWFCtaVqyyXccVg8-xZBte/view?usp=sharing

A huge thank you to @viviangreeneart for the awesome art! ❤️ It turns out we should all definitely be making fake novel docs out of our fanfic. It's good for the soul.

Some pretentiousness about ABC below the cut.

Just over five years ago, a naiver version of me had the idea of writing a Young Ones/Rivyan parody of A Christmas Carol. She started actually writing for this idea in December 2019... and promptly discovered it was going to be a whole lot bigger than she'd anticipated. With one chapter posted before the big day, she decided to kick the rest into the new year.

That new year was 2020.

Yes, that 2020. Although, to be fair, what other one could I be talking about?

We'll skip all of that. None of us need to relive it.

One year, two or three lockdowns, and four indefensibly long chapters later, ABC was finally done and dusted in December 2020. It stood at around 60K words, making it by far the longest thing I'd ever written. I guess we all had to spend that empty time doing something, right?

Followers of this blog will have noticed, I'm sure, that I've never shut up about ABC since. Maybe you even rolled your eyes when you saw the title of this notification? Uh oh, she's going on about that old thing again...

Yep.

Look, I'm incredibly bad at hyping up my own work - self-deprecation is a bad habit, but a common one - and the more time that passes between who you were when you wrote something and who you are today, the harder being positive about it can get.

I was 18 when I wrote ABC. I had only gotten back into writing properly at 17. The whole work went through one major copy edit a year or so ago, when I knew a little more about writing - but I still didn't know as much then as I do now, and I suspect (and hope) the same will be true for a future version of myself when she looks back on my writing from this time.

All of this is to say, sometimes ABC reads to me as something written by somebody else. 18 year old me didn't write exactly the way I do now; she hadn't gotten the Bachelor of Arts cheat code boost that I have. But she was extremely passionate. She did love the bastards Rik and the gang created with all her heart. She'd also studied A Christmas Carol for her GCSEs only a couple of years previously, so she did at least understand the text she was taking a chainsaw to. I think all of this mattered. I think this gave ABC heart.

But what's my point in saying all of this (again)?

For a very long time, I've wanted but held back on commissioning an artist to draw me a cover. Well, no more. Truly, thank you ever so much to @viviangreeneart for indulging me and creating something fabulous for this old fic of mine. Thank you too to everyone who has ever commented on or kudos'ed ABC on ao3 over the years. It really does mean more to me than I can say.

Having dropped a new and flashy PDF decked out like an actual novel, here's the link to ABC on ao3, which will always be its home:

Merry Christmas, scumbags. Cliff bless us, Everyone!

[sofasoap]

Little hobby

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F!Reader

Summary: Your secret hobby and past time discovered by your boyfriend.

Warning : M themed. Suggestive. hint of smut. Not beta'ed. A/N: I am sure 99% of us who writes fanfics has this experience.. of hiding our thirst from RL friends and families...

Part 2 of Little Bear series Masterlist

“He kissed her… mmm no that doesn't flow..The lust in his eyes….. Yep. That will work.”

“What ya doing there little bear?" 

You let out a mighty scream as you jumped and threw your laptop on the seat beside you.  You've been typing away and burning your brain cells for the last few hours, eyes sticking up to the computer screen and scrunching up your nose, so deep in concentration you didn’t even notice your boyfriend had come back in from his night out with the boys.

"JOHNNY!!! Oh my heavens, I was about to have a heart attack!!" puffing and pouting as you scramble to pick up the laptop and quickly slam the lid close. 

"Sorry bonnie, I called you a few times but your nose was sticking right against the screen typing away.. you writing a novel?? Can I have a read?" Soap asked as he bent over from the back of the couch, giving you a kiss on the head as he apologised. 

"Uh…"

Soap looked at you with a big smile, waiting for you to give him a reply. 

How do you tell your dearest boyfriend, that secret little self indulgent hobby that none of your real life acquaintances knows.

Writing fan fictions.

SMUTTY fan fictions to be precise. 

There’s no secrets between us. That’s one thing both you and Johnny agree on at the start of the relationship. With him away for work so often, both of you know communication is the key. Open with each other. 

Oh what the hell. He’s going to find out someday. Somehow. Your usual mutual friend who you use as beta reader is offline and away for family holiday, and you really want to get your latest chapter posted in the next few hours.

“Please? I promise you I won’t laugh.” How can you say no to those beautiful baby blue eyes, staring at you innocently.

“You promise?” You asked in a shy voice. “And please don’t judge me.” ‘I promise my little teddy bear. Now come on. Tell me what you are writing about?”

Passing the laptop over to him nervously, “Iamwritingasmuttyfanfictionaboutarthurmorgan.”you vomited out the words so fast, you were surprised Soap actually caught most of the words.

“Arthur Morgan? The character from red dead redemption two? What’s a smut anyway?” Soap remembered it from one of the game nights when the team gathered at their place, while Soap, Ghost and Price were playing cards, you sat there with Gaz, who was a huge fan of the series, playing the game while you watched on from the side, and occasionally finding guides online for him when he was stuck at certain point of the game. He didn’t expect you to take on such an interest in the character. 

Nodding your head,“It’s um, part of a series I am writing about, um…. I have been trying to get this chapter done for the last few hours,“ Waving your hand towards the laptop, “Just.. Just read it. And um, give me some constructive criticisms and see if you can spot any grammatical mistakes…” 

Sitting back, you wrangle both hands nervously as he opens up the laptop, eyes darting left to right, occasionally clicking on the touchpad, typing away to correct things in or raising eyebrows, tilting his head and nodding his head with approval. 

After what seems like the longest five minutes of your life, he finally closes the lid of the laptop and sets it aside.

“Well.” 

“Well?” scooting closer to him, you urge him to say more.

“Pretty good, didn’t know you had such vivid imaginations there. So tell me,” he leans closer, with a smirk on his face, “those sexy scenes you wrote… keen to try them out?” 

Oh. OHH. HoHOho.....

This took an unexpected, but not unwelcoming turn. You didn't end up posting that chapter until two days later. With additional smut scenes added. Inspiration from real life was indeed helpful.

“Good morning Bonnie bear, keen to go for another ride on the cowboy?” 

loosely based on my own experience ( minus the smut writing part ) when husband was asking me why I been typing and gluing my eyes on the computer after work for days. and "IAMWRITINGCALLOFDUTYFANFICITION" was all he got out of me.

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

@kaplerrr

@homicidal-slvt

@floral-force

[theyungihven]

Between Samosas & Tacos

↬ pairing: seonghwa as indian student and reader as a mexican student

↬ genre: smut, romance

synopsis

You are a mexican mystery reader who doesn't expect to be pulled into a romance novel one random december morning when she accidentally picks up the same book as a very good looking guy, in her favourite corner bookstore.

Seonghwa is an indian hopeless romantic who pursues maths because Dostoevsky advised him to pursue a career in science while continuing his literary pursuits and he isn't a slightest bit surprised when life lays out a well planned romance infront of him.

Their discreet romance slowly travels from conversation over chai versus coffee to tacos versus samosas as they discover each other while discussing the struggles that come with being a person of colour and an immigrant in the United States.

However one summer morning, their straight-out-of-novel love story starts leaning towards more of a tragedy when Mary finds out that Seonghwa allegedly sabotaged her research career.

But can the same guy who reads Lord Byron and Ahmed Faraz for breakfast stab her in the back? Can the same guy who fought his Indian parents for bringing a Mexican girl home, ruin her most beloved and precious thing in this universe? Find out this september!

↬ author’s note: i wrote for my desi atiny who dont get much content so yep seonghwa is not only indian in this fic but he's from hyderabad which is popular for its biryani.

A spin off of today was a fairytale

REBLOG OR COMMENT TO BE ADDED IN THE TAGLIST

COMING SOON

[stjohnstarling]

wait so you figured out what "bigoted" (anti-Catholic?) "box office flop" that guy meant????

Oh god.

Okay so for anyone who doesn't know this is about this comment I got on my post about my priest/vampire romance novel:

Hilarious. Love that they were so mad they sat down to actually read the book and confirm that it was exactly as blasphemous and erotic as it looked. Good for them, wonderful.

And for months I've been stuck on what "bigoted box office flop" they're talking about. Because, well, my novel is explicitly based on Dracula (the "public domain novel" of the ask - and by the way what kind of insult is calling something public domain?), but this movie is something they've fully invented themselves. I did not have a clue what fucking movie they meant.

Until now.

After months of searching, I realized I could just google the words "priest movie" and would you believe that actually turned up the answer?

Yep! that's gotta be it. Leaving aside the uh, bizarre and frankly offensive thing going on with the vampire reservations, Priest is an Underworld knockoff from 2011 (it seems to be almost completely unrelated to the comic it's supposedly based on) that as far as I can tell nobody has ever seen. It could not have less to do with the book I wrote.

And I'm gonna watch it.

[dynamic-k]

*slides up to Chosen and you*

Y'all want a book reccommendation? >:D

Scarlett said you like mystery and comedy, Cho, and that honestly pERFECTLY lines up with the book I was gonna suggest.

Basically anything by Gordon Korman, but my favourite one of his is a book called "No Coins, Please", which centres around two young adult "I'm broke, I'm just here for the paycheck" camp coordinators dealing with a young prodigy that keeps running into town and creating perfect money laundering schemes. It's funny, well-written, and has a hint of mystery concerning "what is he going to come up with next, why is he doing these things, and will he get away with it?".

My second(heh) favourite of his (very close second(HEH-)) (welcome to the puns, Chosen :3) is "I Want to Go Home", which also centres around a camp, but this time we're looking over the shoulder of the prodigy's best (and only) friend. We watch as the prodigy refuses to participate in activities, outmaneuvers everyone, gets himself in repeated trouble, makes elaborate plans to escape from the camp and get back home, and drives his cabin coordinator UP THE WALL in the process. It's also funny, also well-written, and also has the mystery of "what's his next move?", "what're his actual motivations?", and "will he finally escape, or will he stay stuck in camp?".

Other really good ones include the "Bruno & Boots" series - starting with "This Can't Be Happening at McDonald Hall!" - which centres around another pair of troublemakers and their shenanigans (and was also the first book Gordon ever wrote - it was actually an English assignment in 7th grade before he turned it into an actual novel and had it published). And I have to also reccommend the dilogy "Who is Bugs Potter?" and "Bugs Potter Live at Nickaninny", which is... again... centred on a young troublemaker and his best friend - this time in a orchestra-school setting.

...That's a lot, but that's my hierarchy of what I'd reccommend.

If you couldn't tell (/pf), his MO is usually two young boys and their various styles of shenaniganery-bullsh[beep]t making the older supervisors go insane.

A lot of his books are pretty hard to find nowadays since Gordon Korman wasn't that well-known, and published his best books (in my opinion) in the 80s.

Either way, I hope you enjoyy~~

NOTED!!

[*AmazonKindle cowers in Scarlett's wake-*]

-

Those sound so so funny and so good, I am definitely getting all of them you have no ideaaa

..For Chosen of course. U U'

Y-Yep.

-

SS!Chosen: ovo

SS!Chosen: gimme.

[bethanydelleman]

Thanks for the tag @firawren & @glassslippers-n-cowboyboots

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 45

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 208,023. And that's a bit surprising because a bunch of my longer fics are only on AHA or my website.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mostly Jane Austen, all novels, Elizabeth Gaskell (Wives & Daughters), and Anne Bronte (The Tenant of Wildfell Hall). I have also technically written Oscar Wilde and My Happy Marriage, but those were very transformative.

I also have written some fics based on Kdramas, mostly for Alchemy of Souls.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A Ride to Netherfield - Jane breaks her leg on the way to Netherfield and must stay for a month. Short one-shot (6k) and the first Pride & Prejudice variation I wrote.

Of Every Elizabeth - short and sweet Pride & Prejudice fluff, Darcy has nicknames for the plethora of Elizabeth's he's met over the course of his life (it was a super common name at the time)

Carry Me! - three vignettes of Jang Uk and Cho Yeong from Alchemy of Souls after they are married

The Fourth Bennet Sister - long fic (30k words), Pride & Prejudice variation where Kitty Bennet becomes aware that she is in a novel. She desperately tries to protect her sisters from harm.

All's Fair in Love and War - short Pride & Prejudice variation. Mrs. Bennet has weaponized compromise, men live in constant fear of being forced to marry.

5. Do you respond to comments? Yep. Every time.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Umm.... I'm not good at writing angst. I don't like characters to suffer for too long.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? All of them?

8. Do you get hate on fics? Yes, because I dared to write Mr. Darcy marrying Anne Elliot. People get more angry about that for some reason than Elizabeth Bennet marrying Captain Wentworth in the same fic. Someone even told me Darcy would rather "throw himself off of Pemberley" rather than marry anyone other than Elizabeth. (Fic is called One Week Late)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have written smut a few times, it's pretty vanilla because I am pretty vanilla. I was reading Victorian erotica when I wrote my longest one, A Little Before Their Marriage (Jane & Bingley fic).

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I constantly write crossovers, my first published novel is a massive crossover, Prideful & Persuaded. One of my fun shorts is Fall on the Sword, where every canonically single woman in Austen's novels decides if they want to try for the recently divorced Mr. Rushworth.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not as far as I know.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No, though someone did translate one of my meta posts from Tumblr. That was cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, The Marriage Contest with Branch Cloudsky and two with Amelia Marie Logan, Poor Caroline and Inferior Connections. All Pride & Prejudice fics, all funny. (You need an AO3 account for that one, the other two are on my personal website)

14. What’s your all time favourite ship? Catherine Morland & Henry Tilney. They are the only Austen couple I cannot bear to break up.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I am writing a queer retelling of Emma called "Different Ways of Being in Love", where Jane Fairfax and Emma were lovers as teenagers, Jane is bi, Emma is a lesbian, and Mr. Knightley is ace, but I got stuck on the middle part. Someday hopefully!

16. What are your writing strengths? I'm told I write some pretty hilarious farces. I am told I do characterization well, which is my main goal when writing fan fiction. I try to stick as close to canon as possible.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I don't write enough filler or develop things well enough. I like writing action.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I would possibly try my hand at French, but probably never. I also have a lot of trouble reading accented speech (looking at you Wuthering Heights), so I'd probably never write it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I am fairly certain I started writing a fix-it fic for Nineteen Eighty-Four after I read it in high school. Not sure I would be able to locate it but it did exist. The first since I started writing again was a sequel to Pride & Prejudice.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Probably Unfairly Caught (my other published work) or The Fourth Bennet Sister. I NEEDED to write a Mansfield Park fic because I hate the ending, so it fixed my dissatisfied feelings. My goal is to edit The Fourth Bennet Sister and get it published sometime this year.

@wurzelbertzwerg, @kehlana-wolhamonao3 and @bad-at-names-and-faces

[el-dritchknight]

20 fanfic questions

originally tagged by @caelwynn!! thank you so much friend <3

no pressure but @owltio, @zeesqueere, @shady-groves, @mittenscatgod, @cookiewoli, @solsandrock , @spookemsdukems , @not-sewell , @florisam , @reallyinkyhands , @valleyrunearchives @aces-and-angels @bengalifairy @the-artist-and-the-scholar @solaettristis @sharpstake (FORGOT UR MAIN SORRY TUNES ILY) @meya-lily + anyone else who wants to!

how many works do you have on ao3? 117

what's your total ao3 word count? 141,242

what fandoms do you write for? UH right now my most recent fandoms have been my time at sandrock, stardew valley, hoyoverse, choices, dimension 20

top five fics by kudos:

Meeting Skrunkly! (ERROR143): MC x Michan Yujin Fluff

Window Rendezvous (ERROR143): MC x Micah Yujin Fluff

for slumber’s sweet embrace, i try (Lord of the Flies - William Golding): Jalph Fluff I wrote in high school. the kids are just cuddling so don't cancel me. cancel holding for all the shit he put them through /joking

Break of Dawn (原神 | Genshin Impact): X-mas VentiLuc RomCom

Balancing Act (原神 | Genshin Impact): Cynari Hurt/Comfort

do you respond to comments? i try to!

what is the fic your wrote with the angstiest ending? as the world comes to an end, I'll be here to hold your hand - grecente extended introspection / reimagined ending of the you-know-what scene happening in the movie :) I love the imagery <3

what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? 🤔 JK probably the ones where the ships are experiencing domestic bliss... for now

do you get hate on fics? no(t yet)

do you write smut? yep! want to commission me? ;3

craziest crossover? do oc crossovers count?

have you ever had a fic stolen? no but someone tried to steal oc back on fanfiction. that was so wild

have you ever had a fic translated? yes! a love that (doesn't) last a lifetime has a Vietnamese translation :D I personally am too lazy to translate some of my Tagalog fics into English and vice versa haha

have you ever co-written a fic before? yes, Meeting Skrunkly is one such collaboration. Open to more in the future :3

all-time favorite ship? me x @owltio, me x getting paid. UM CHROBIN!!

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? ahAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHA

what are your writing strengths? i can write fast (30 minutes for a one-shot has been my record), I can get the hang of other people's characters well, dialogues and dynamics also fascinate me!

what are your writing weaknesses? ...long fics... I AM TRYING THOUGH!!!

thoughts on dialogue in another language? slay. as long as it's done respectfully and with translations, you know we gucci

favorite fic you've written? THEY'RE ALL MY BABIES but my vtm oc's origin story, Caged Bird, was pretty fun to write

what's something you want to write someday? anything your heart desires ;3 JK I want to finally write the novel that's been kicking in my head since 2013 but I'm not sure if I want to make it an interactive novel, VN, game, ttrpg or what...

[pragnificent]

Tagged by @tina-mairin-goldstein! Tagging whoever else wants to play.

1.How many fics do you have on AO3?

78.

2. What's your total word count on AO3?

934,933. Wow, maybe I can break a million this year....

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just HANNIBAL right now (and for like the last seven years or so). Been vaguely thinking about picking up a second but nothing has caught my interest strongly enough.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Attachment - 7,592

The Fisherman and the Beast from the Sea - 4,565

Sashimi - 2,807

Hungry Ghost - 1,585

Identically Different - 1,382 <- This is my best series and yall should give it a shot <3

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to, and I enjoy doing so, but sometimes the brainworms win and I don't get stuff done even when I really want to.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Breathless

I don't love this story, but "Hannibal is effectively braindead after the fall, but Will keeps caring for the body and feels that Hannibal is there with him, up until the body dies and Will turns himself in because there isn't any point anymore" probably counts as the most angsty? If you are in the market for a "Hannibal receives a brain injury and he, along with everyone else around him, has to cope with that" story Tina's For Remembrance (Holes in the Floor of the Mind) is a much better pick. And as I continue to think about it, Means of Influence has a pretty angsty ending.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my stories have slightly bittersweet but still mostly happy endings. Part of the thing about that is I think it's really hard to envision a situation where Will is like 100% Happy Happy, his own mind hates him too much and every little scrap of happiness needs to be fought for and then vigilantly guarded. But I put both him and Hannibal through so much that I always want them to be as close to content as they each can be.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have gotten two flavors of Fic Hate. 1.) People calling the five year old kid OC in ATTACHMENT slurs like "r*tard" and saying "he belongs in jail" and etc.

Every time Hannibal or Will fuck someone who isn't each other at least one person decides to Yell At Me.

I think I've gotten the old "you didn't tag for bottom Hannibal!!" nonsense once or twice too, but who hasn't?

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

A little. I actually started Hannishark bc I was really intimidated by sex scenes and wanted to see if I could pull off a short monsterfucker story. I feel like I've gotten better at writing these but am generally more comfortable leaving them sparce on anatomical details and big on feelings/conversations.

10. Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one?

I've got a WRONG TURN crossover series that I'm very proud of here: Bear Mountain Road AU. You don't need to have seen any of the movies to read it, or anything, the movies' premise of "a clan of inbred mountain cannibals waylays travelers" is really just an excuse to put Hannibal (and Will and D, as child members of the cannibal family) In Situations. If I counts as a cross over, I've got a universe swap between the novels and NBC HANNIBAL here: Shiloh

I also have a vague idea for a SAW / HANNIBAL crossover but I've been sitting on that for so long, who knows if it'll ever happen?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not so far as I know.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several times.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yep, a couple of times.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Hannigram and Reba/D (guys we need a fuckin ship name).

15. What are your writing strengths?

Character, emotions, dialogue.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Sex scenes, pacing.

17. Thoughts writing dialogue in another language?

Fine by me, tho I only think I've done it one or twice.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

FARSCAPE.

19. Favorite fic you've written?

Identically Different AU !!!! This it the best thing I've ever written and probably the best thing I will ever write.

[yanderepuck]

puck do you think its possible to convince arthur to write Sherlock/Watson; what would that convincing look like?

asking for a friend

You mean..like... Sherlock x Watson

I feel like that would take a LOT of convincing. HOWEVER. I feel like rather than bribing him you can show him AO3 and all the fanfics of Sherlock x Watson .

He would be VERY disgusted at first. But then you force him to read a few (probably with the help of Dazai) and Arthur gets even more upset

"SHERLOCK WOULDN'T SAY THAT!"

He thinks everything is SOOO out of character. And the more he reads/you read to him the more upset he gets. He thinks it is all very out of character, pointing out flaws and everything. It even gets to the point where he is correcting all the grammar, because he's also horrified at the style of writing.

Punctuation and commas are all in the wrong spot. What the hell are those three dots for. Not enough description. Not being described right. Tenses are not consistent.

So you know what he does? He wrote it himself.

"if Sherlock and Watson were to be a couple THIS is how it would be" and he basically writes a whole other book. It's a whole ass novel. Of Sherlock and Watson being gay. Doing detective work together, and making little snide comments to each other but in a loving way. And also being sure to point out that they have to keep the relationship secret. It's the 1890s they can't be like this out in public.

He refuses to write it as a modern au. And he's also done with it in like a week. And he presents the manuscript at the writers meeting. Dazai is like "WAIT I NEED TO GO GET TOSHIKO-SAN"

Will is very confused. Arthur is proud of his work. Turns out he had writers block for MONTHS prior to this, and he churned this out in literally a week because all the fangirls online pissed him off.

You see the manuscript and are immediately like "yep. This is going on Wattpad IMMEDIATELY"

Well I really hope that's what you meant bc I put quite a bit of thought into it. More than I anticipated

[mimiplaysgames]

The Bed Story, ch. 4 (Free Day)

Terraqua Day 2024, Day 4

Terra/Aqua | Terra/Anti-Aqua Rating: M Word Count: 6,125 @terraquaweek

Summary: Terra meets Anti-Aqua, and he's sorry for what they did and didn't do.

Read on AO3

A/N: Ahhh I had such anxiety attacks about publishing this chapter yesterday that I just didn't at all. So I'm a day behind with prompts. I told myself I would never use this plot point of finding Aqua's Keyblade in a fic again (save for one last fic that I have not published yet) and here I am... using it again. Oops. Either way, in this chapter, I got to play with a concept I've never done before and had a lot of fun with, so I still hope you guys find this chapter enjoyable.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Information comes in bits and pieces. Terra and Ven align what little they’ve gathered in a comprehensible order, to get them started in the right place. Terra’s body was left behind in the courtyard Aqua and Xehanort had fought, in Radiant Garden. Then… something. Something happened that dragged Terra’s body away. Someone must have come by to pick him up. Who? Oh, this neighbor said Ansem the Wise found an orphan many years ago, okay. Funny to call someone as tall as you an orphan, but okay. Oh great, he’s dead. Now what? Well, who else was here? No idea. Wait, didn’t they say that castle once belonged to Ansem? Yeah. Let’s check it out. 

Once they get there: Wow, Terra. They do not like you. But do you know what this means? Yeah. Bingo. 

And this leads them to Xehanort’s peaceful old bedroom. The windows overlook Radiant Garden’s skyline, which is now stitched with pipes and electric traps as the city fortifies its own defense against Heartless. Some roofs need patching up but have to wait due to limiting resources. The city commission uses Ansem’s castle frequently for recovery and technological advances. Radiant Garden isn’t the same jewel—severely chipped, clouded, and gnarled, all while healing slowly. All while Xehanort’s bedroom remains… well, tranquil and undisturbed, to look out at such a beautiful view of the horizon, despite the ugliness. 

Xehanort’s bedroom has the same creepy juxtaposition: the dust has settled over his belongings, and it’s weird, because these were belongings Terra had touched, not Xehanort. Terra’s body, Terra’s touch. A worn out adventure novel with most of the pages bent in the corners sits on the nightstand table, waiting to be read again. That’s weird, because Terra adores that novel, too. Does that mean Xehanort and Terra have the same taste, or did Terra influence Xehanort’s taste? Then, there is this thick leather textbook with a bunch of equations. That’s weird, because Terra has no stars-damned clue what any of it means, but there are handwritten notes on the margins with, yep, some careful calligraphy that is Terra’s, and jutted rushed strikes of someone who thought too fast for the pace he wrote in.

Terra sits on Xehanort’s bed. Terra’s head had slept on this pillow here. Weird. Terra’s head. Here. And yet, infuriating. Terra’s head, safe in solace, all this time without him realizing. For years. The pillow is arranged towards the window, so when Xehanort laid down, he was able to watch the stars overhead before sleeping. Weird. Maybe Xehanort favored the stars. Or maybe Terra missed them. Terra’s bed back home was arranged the same way. 

For what it’s worth, the bed is squishy and invites a nap. Much better than the thin carpet in the Master’s study. 

Right now, the keepers of the Ansem’s castle are looking for a scientist named Even, who might know the whereabouts of Aqua’s Keyblade. Everyone else in the castle had said, Oh yeah. I remember some Keyblade. Dunno what happened to it. 

“So,” Ven says, poking a finger at a glass chemistry set. “You’re gonna tell me what’s going on with you?”

Terra considers taking the pillow home. It smells of patchouli, which isn’t a cologne Terra would have chosen, but it’s comforting. 

“About what?”

Ven rolls his eyes. “You know what. Show me.”

Terra extends his hand, but instead of calling Earthshaker, he tries for No Name one more time. Maybe being in this room will beckon it to come. Think about hunger, and Terra’s own satiation when he comes close to achievement. Think about the taboo. Taste it. Think about how full it felt, how delicious, when Terra wielded Darkness for the first time and felt like he could bend gravity. Think about how Aqua might feel this way now, drunk on power. 

No, don’t think about Aqua and how Terra let it all tear apart. 

Nothing happens.

“Earthshaker still won’t come?”

Terra lowers his arm. “No.” 

“I don’t get it.” Ven scratches his face. “I mean, I know that when a wielder changes, the Keyblade will change with them sometimes, but…”

Terra squeezes his own bicep. A bitter medicine to drink, and no sugar to help it go down. “Maybe I’ve changed in ways Earthshaker doesn’t approve of.”

“That makes zero sense. Earthshaker is yours.” Ven huffs. “That’s like saying you don’t want it anymore.”

Is that true? Terra rubs fingers to his palm, and considers the possibility. Why he tries for No Name over Earthshaker, exchanging his own essence for something better than what he can offer. Maybe it’s that he can’t trust anything he thinks anymore. No Name is stronger. Facts are facts.

And maybe Earthshaker is no longer Earthshaker anymore. Maybe all Terra has left are the remnants the Guardian digested. Something warped, and stupid, and Dark. Maybe Terra will never again feel what it’s like to hold an extension of Light.

“Can I hold your Keyblade?” Terra asks.

“Hm? Yeah, definitely.” Ven summons Wayward Wind, and the air in the room thaws with a blanket of safety. 

Compared to the length of Terra’s arm, Wayward Wind is a dagger, but sturdy. Eager, excitable, like it wants to fly and never touch the ground again. Terra feels compelled to twirl it in circles over and over, and it brings him childish joy to repeat this movement, like bouncing a yo-yo. While he does this, Ven grins, and Wayward Wind smiles back. There’s a sense of pick-me, pick-me deep beneath the surface, like when Ven raised his hand before Aqua and Terra did after the Master asked a question in class, desperate to answer it before they had a chance. Keeping up. Trailing behind. Keeping up. Trailing behind, always wanting to explore but caught in a cage. Beneath that, this belief that there’s a reason he was left behind. Deeper than that, maybe they were right.

Most importantly, when Terra stops the twirling, and adjusts Wayward Wind’s position in this fist, this expanse of hope quells everything else, knowing the sun comes out on the other side. For a Keyblade so small, it has more optimism than anything else Terra has felt in his life. 

“You’re a good friend to yourself, Ven.”

“I am?” Ven takes Wayward Wind back, but before he can say more, someone knocks on the door. That someone lets himself in. 

This someone is…

“Ienzo,” he says, reading Terra’s confusion correctly and re-introducing himself. Ienzo drags in a cart stuffed with a mountain of journals and reports on spiral bounds. He can barely look Terra in the face, so he addresses Ven. “This is everything Xehanort has recorded.” He clears his throat, and pats a neat stack on the side. “This here refers to the research you specifically requested.”

“Thank you.” Terra says, who was the one who requested the material, not Ven.

“You’re welcome,” Ienzo says to Ven. “Um…” He lets go of the cart, and begins to turn, then stops himself. He faces Terra but looks at the floor. “I suppose this research is your entitlement.”

“Excuse me?”

“It is rightfully yours.” He clears his throat again. “Or is it not?”

Ven gapes. “Sure,” he answers for a shocked Terra, then shoots a look at Terra that says, We’ll burn it all later. 

Ienzo lowers his voice. “Before I leave, there is one thing I wanted to say.”

Terra holds his breath. He would move to Xehanort’s desk so he can begin sifting through the pages, but he’s getting the impression that sudden movement would scare this guy away. 

Ienzo glances into Terra’s eyes. Looks away. Glances again. Looks at the wall. “You look so much like him.”

Ven groans. “It’s the other way around. Xehanort. Xehanort is the one who looked so much like Terra.”

“Of course.”

“It’s okay, Ven.” Terra delicately stands, and takes the leather journal at the top of the stack, where he meets Ienzo eye-to-eye. “Don’t take it personally. It is what it is.”

Ienzo nods too quickly, chin to chest. Before closing the door behind him, Ienzo steps back inside. With a hand on the knob, he says, “I want you to know, he made me feel like I was limitless. He was the one who showed me I could make anything, that I can even fly, and... And I am so sorry about that.”

Terra sits at Xehanort’s desk. The journal is extra-large, the same size of a textbook. A perfect fit for Terra’s hands. 

Master Terra. Xehanort uttered those words. 

“He made me feel the same.” Over his shoulder, he smiles at Ienzo. “No need for an apology.”

“Are we seriously considering this?” Ven asks about the journals when Ienzo leaves them alone, sliding the second-to-top journal off the stack like it smells. 

Terra opens the cover, and reads the date. Two years after Xehanort won.

Terra scans page after page—theory and history, most of it familiar from Fairytale lore, like what’s stored in Affairs of the Heart but legible. These read as summaries. Perhaps he was reminding himself of the basics. “We just need something, Ven.”

“But Xehanort?”

“He knew things we didn’t.”

Ven sighs. Ven understands—Xehanort knew things that hurt Ven more than anyone else, and none of them are found in old tomes.

“I can read these,” Terra says, realizing he’s asking Ven for too much. “You should go have fun. I heard they’re bringing back food carts.”

“Nah, I’m fine.” He’s not. “I want to help.”

“Okay. But if you start to get upset, you stop. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Ven moves over beakers on a shelf to make space for himself, and Terra goes back to the journal, only to skim through the final page and realize it’s not what he’s hoping for.

Next.

A thick folder of yellowing paper scribbled with equations, and no markers to translate what they mean.

Next.

A diary. Terra’s heart pounds. Does he want to know? His stomach churns something acidic when he flips through dates. He shouldn’t. He’s nauseous. He’s curious. These are emotions laid bare, Xehanort’s personal, not clinical, reactions to his experiments. He lists patterns. Glowing eyes for successes, glazed over when failures. There are descriptions of people Xehanort enticed to the dungeons, and—

Terra shuts the diary, and rubs his eyes. He touches himself: hands on wrists, on forearms, on his chest, on his face. This is his face. This is mine… despite being the last face these victims pleaded with.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” Terra sounds convincing enough, and only needs a moment. Reminds himself that not everyone flinches when they see his face. Ven smiles. Ven wants to see his face.

And Aqua...

“None of it was your fault, you know?”

Terra wishes these people had a more peaceful passing. “Thanks, Ven.”

Terra opens the diary again, and thumbs through pages that describe the experiments in too much detail. He wonders if Xehanort was aware Terra was there. But there is no mention of a shadow following Xehanort anywhere. He had no idea he had access to the Guardian for his use.

Not until his Heartless was formed years later. Xehanort’s heart remembered, even when his mind didn’t. 

Terra hits a passage, sounding like the vulnerability of an existential crisis late at night:

I yearn for an old friend I can’t remember, to pass these nights with.

And one more: What used to fill me with joy has left my heart bored. 

Are these passages talking about Eraqus? Or is this Terra’s influence, and they’re talking about Aqua?

“Ugh.”

Terra turns over. The chair can’t spin.  “What’s going on?”

“This.” Ven holds up a leaflet stapled together, damaged by water. Or fluids? It doesn’t look like blood. “It—” He looks like he’s about to vomit. 

“Here.” Terra takes it from Ven, and reads. Theories about the χ-blade, but one passage sounds about right: 

There is a validity to the argument that our hearts are not one source of power, but many sewn together. Light intertwined with Darkness in repressive knots. Not an object that draws a shadow in the presence of a light source, but threads twisted together. To separate the two is feasible, but imagine the difficulty to pull apart raveled yarn one thread at a time. 

To bind them back together, make them relink but in different places, like a puzzle cube, is ideal. This is where the true heart lies, where the soul of Man can be read: What piece is he willing to take out? How would he change? What would he learn if he wove it back together? 

Further than this, I would be remiss not to ask myself, after dreaming of memories I do not have: What would it take me to remove something of which I am not aware is there?

Related to this discussion, how does Man live on? What does it mean to give my share to another, and plant a piece in someone else’s heart? 

By what extension does this method become irreversible? Is that what I want?

A footnote:

I’ve done it. Braig has become my first successful attempt. I made certain that it would be near impossible to remove my Darkness from his consciousness. 

I dare not ponder the possibility of him sharing a piece of himself with me—that is out of the question. Seeing how he has changed proves to me that I must maintain all records of who receives my blessing. 

For the sake of science, we attempted to force my essence out. It threatened to destroy all his memory of me. 

To rule out correlation, I’ve attempted this on [name too damaged by fluid to be legible] and it was successful up until she lost all memory. The night after, she killed herself.  

Perhaps this is in relation to the fact that Braig fully accepted me. I need a different approach. I need a body with no heart at all—

Terra can’t breathe. He hauls a trash can and gags into it, but nothing comes out except spit. 

“Hey, you okay?”

Terra gags again, then swallows. He croaks, “Yeah.”

“It’s all bullshit.”

“Language,” he says, coarse. Vanitas. The curse words have to be Vanitas’s lingering influence on Ven.

“But what does it mean for Aqua exactly?”

Terra reads the words again, searching for an answer between the lines. But there’s no denying it. “The Guardian gave a piece of it—of me, my Darkness—to her. They’ve intertwined. That’s why she’s like this.”

Terra reads the passage again, looking for confirmation that this is so. Was Xehanort aware of Terra’s jealousy? Did his Heartless know? And took advantage of it? Jealous of her, then sabotaged her. Which isn’t… Terra would never…  

And yet, Aqua stands above it all, strong enough (stronger than Terra) to control a new Keyblade. There has to be hope there.

“But… when Xehanort tried to take Vanitas away from me—” Ven sniffs. He hasn’t been able to talk about Vanitas since they’ve come back. “Look what it did to me.”

“I remember.”

“Terra, I don’t want her to forget us.” 

Despite Terra’s own chasm spawning in his chest cavity... “She won’t.” Ven can’t quite believe it, either. 

“I mean,” Ven says, grasping for exceptions, “you were fine. Right? You kept your memory.”

Terra’s breath hitches. “The difference is…” Careful. “I fought him out. Didn’t I? You didn’t want to be separated. Aqua…”

Ven can’t, or doesn’t, want to accept that. He shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” Then, without allowing Terra to reply, he says, “Rainfell will bring her back. We just have to find it.”

A knock on the door. This man introduces himself as Even. “His resemblance to you…” he says to Terra. “I apologize.”

For someone who is dead, Xehanort has achieved true immortality—living on in memory. Which includes Terra. He keeps Xehanort alive just by his heart remembering. 

Even leads them into the dungeons, a slow, meticulous crawl down a tower of stairs. Terra is grateful that Ven hasn’t read the diary. All the more blissful. These rooms ooze of Darkness, as if Terra has stepped into the Realm of Darkness with no armor. 

That may not be quite right. Aqua has told Ven the Realm of Darkness is numbing. This place is repugnant, shadows and ink seeping from below the doors. Terra has to cover his face to stop himself from breathing it in.

Even leads them to the end of the hall, where he pries open an electronically locked door with a machine in his hand. Something fancy to bypass some other fancy technological advancement.

“It’s here!” Ven says, running inside. Terra is more cautious, surveying his surroundings before taking a step. A simple throne room that means absolutely nothing to him and is never mentioned in Xehanort’s diary. “Terra, look!”

Among her armor strewn across the floor is a Keyblade. Different, sleeker, with a sharp edge to the blade, designed to strike something as narrow as a tendon with precision. Undoubtedly, this is Rainfell, updated. Terra picks it up, and is blessed with an image of a bright star among all stars, like one offset from a constellation. 

Rainfell recognizes him, and it sighs. It’s tired of waiting. It doesn't know why there is this hollow feeling simmering beneath the metal. Its essence is shallow, like tight breaths, exhausted but awake. Aqua’s star blinks—something within is alive. Rainfell has been a Keyblade of pure, blind faith, but this version is not faith, but conviction. This is what it feels like to have hope.

“This throne room?” Terra asks Even.

Even is deadfaced when he says, “It wasn’t part of the original blueprint. Xemnas built it.” 

Terra’s Nobody built it for Rainfell. Aqua’s star has never stopped lighting Terra’s way back, no matter what form he came in.

“Ven, here.” Terra lifts Rainfell over so they can both touch it. “Say hi, so Aqua knows we’re there for her.”

And when Ven does, he cries. 

~*~

Aqua can’t fix it: the narrow stained glass window in the hall on the way to the residential wing. It’s cracked, splintering her reflection into shards, her golden eyes sliced into knives.

The Master wouldn't be pleased with this, if he were alive. Aqua clenches her jaw. He wouldn't be pleased to look at her either, but Aqua prays to him all the same. I know I'm supposed to be a Master, but I still have questions.

She presses the pad of her claw to the shred between, willing her Darkness to fill the space and seal it together, but the glass breaks off and shatters into minuscule gems on the floor. Nothing in the castle does what she wants it to. She’s even tried to fix the bells so they can ring on the hour. They don’t. She can’t fix them. 

Shhhhh, dear, my dear, this place is not built for you. 

Her shoulder ticks. Every time one of those voices speaks, she resists the temptation to hit something. One clone, two, more, are in the hall with her. Terra and Ven can’t see them. 

Look at what you’ve done, the Second says to her.

It’s not my fault, Third says.

We’ve been alone for so long, the Fourth one says. When are they coming home?

You can’t stay here, says the First. You know it’s not good for you.

“Don’t say that to me,” Aqua says. When they speak, they have her stare at things, wondering if it’s her in the reflection of this broken stained glass, or if they’re all staring back. Is that just her reflection on the armored statues? Only her shadow on the walls? She can’t count sometimes. 

First says, But it’s true, my dear.

Though First has a point. Her shadows are the only things that don't run from her. And another point: as much as she longed to be with Terra and Ven again—

Especially Terra, Fourth says.

—Darkness and Light can't blend that well, can it? Has the Master been right all this time? Aqua groans from the thought. If the Master was right, then why is she like this? Destructive, scratching most of what she touches. Everyone stares at her scales. No one allows her peace. They keep her as close as an enemy.

Don’t make me feel anything, Third says. Please. It hurts too much.

“Aqua!” That’s Ven trying to find her. He has a knack of knowing where she is, perfect Light to perfect Darkness. That’s how it works, right? Suppress the Darkness so much it no longer exists, or let it take over.

Sweet little Ven, Fourth says. 

You’ll break his little innocent heart, First says. Why do you string him along? 

Don’t forget the barrier he put up, Second says. Neither of them trust you.

“Shut up,” Aqua mutters.

“Aqua,” Ven calls when he spots her. In his hand—Look. A perfect Light. The irony, Second says—is a ball of light. “Look what I made for you.” A sphere of fire contained within a tornado. “Neat trick, right? It’ll keep your hands warm.”

“Ven, that’s…” Sweet. Kind. Aqua cups her hands and accepts it. The flames are only slightly homely, a small campfire in the middle of a blizzard. 

Let her feel, Fourth says. I want to feel, too.

First says, No. You know what it does to her. 

“Thank you, Ven.” With him, her tone is muddled, tame, needy. She cups one of his cheeks and he… tenses. Stops himself from flinching at the sight of her claws. But how can she pull away? Ven is her brother—the very reason why she kept going. To wake him up. To see him safe. “That’s so considerate of you.”

Third: Well, you woke him up like you wanted, and look how he repays you. 

First: Making you feel you're too dangerous to be around.

Fourth: It’s nice to be cared for, isn’t it? He needs a hug from you.

Second: She’ll need to declaw herself, first.

“You’re welcome,” Ven says, his smile trembling. It’s like he’s expecting to be scratched.

Aqua lets him go. He needs to be reassured, and she knows just the thing. “Here.” In one free hand, she summons a swirl of Darkness, one to mimic his gift.

Second: You’re still scary.

Aqua tries smiling. It feels too vulnerable, and her muscles stiffen. Ven swallows with effort as he holds her gift to him far from his heart. 

“Really cool,” Ven says in a way that implies the opposite. Awkward silence. “Does it…?” He bends the Darkness into shapes. It’s malleable, and he nods, impressed. “Not bad.”

"Ven," she starts.

First, warning her: My dear.

"I care so much about you," Aqua says. She's not sure if Ven would accept an apology for brandishing a Keyblade against him in the heat of the moment.

Ven smiles, like a salve soothing her over. "I know."

For a moment, Aqua is at peace. Even when uncertain and wary, Ven’s smile is a balm. He’s safe, and he will always be safe under her care.

Then— 

“Ven, Aqua, you there?” Terra. His voice shatters every treasure of glass she keeps in the mirrors of her mind. There’s a deep need to listen to him crack a joke, even if she doesn’t, or can’t, laugh. A desire for him to tell her he needs her just as badly, and a fear that isn’t true anymore. Like drowning in sand, Aqua doesn't want to be so affected by every small gesture he does. But she is. Every time he’s around, Aqua’s heart bleeds. She can’t help it. Can’t stop it. Can’t fix it.

First: Oh, my dear. Can’t you see? You can’t stay. 

“Stop.”

“Mm?” Ven says, looking up at her. “Did you say something?”

Strapped to Terra’s back is Stormfall, but Aqua has known it was coming. Terra and Ven both have cried on it. She would have cried with them if she could.

Stars, Terra’s shoulders are so broad, his chest so powerful, his waist thick. The way he moves twists a scalpel in Aqua's heart: the even pace between his strides. Timid. Not the way they rush when he's confident. Or how his knees bounce too much when he's distracted with trying to impress. Timid, like a dog with a tail between his legs.

She feels the need to apologize to him, too.

Second: What for?

First: There isn't any reason.

Third: It should be the other way around.

Fourth: He already apologized. It wasn't enough for either of you.

The space under his eyes is dark. Sleep evades him, his tan face a little pale. And when he looks at her, his smile is tight, but his deep blue eyes betray him. She can hear the thump-thump of his heart. She’s an animal now. She knows when something comes alive when they see her. 

That last night before the Mark of Mastery, she should have stayed in his bed.

If you did, First says, you would have taken with you the memory of what his skin would have felt on you, around you, inside you. His warmth, his weight. You’ve forgotten, haven’t you? His smell. His voice.

That Keyblade… Second says.

He’s always had such a beautiful jawline, First says.

That Keyblade! Third says.

It hurts to look at him, First says. Doesn’t it? Don’t you want that pain to go away?

Terra does that chuckle when he’s nervous, the signal that she’s been staring at him too long. “Look what I have.” His bicep flexes when he reaches to pull Stormfall off his back. “Rainfell.”

Come home, First says. 

“It’s Stormfall now,” Aqua says. Her Keyblade croaks, as if reaching a hand out to speak to her, but Aqua doesn’t want to hear it. Stormfall can’t agree with an anti-heart, let alone an Anti-Aqua. 

Ven’s fire churns in her hands. It burns. Too much. She crushes the tornado and snuffs out the fire with her claws, when she doesn’t mean to. 

She can’t fix this, either.

Ven tenses. He lets go of her Darkness, and it dissipates. “Um…” 

“Ven,” Terra says, nodding his head to the side to indicate that Ven should leave and give them some space. Ven obeys.

When they’re alone, Terra plants a smile on his face. An olive branch. “Stormfall, huh?” He tests its weight, then offers the hilt. “Suits it nicely.”

Aqua doesn’t take it. “Does it feel any different to you?”

Terra raises his eyebrows, surprised by the question. “You don’t sense it?”

Hmm, Second one says. Do you notice Earthshaker is not near? 

Aqua swallows. “Barely," she lies.

“I think you’ll feel better when you hold it—”

Aqua winces. 

Third: When will he ever learn? 

“Why?” she asks.

“Why what?”

“Why do you want me better?”

Terra gapes, and Stormfall snaps her bite in his hand, making him flinch. He composes himself. “I… I don’t want you to suffer.”

Not quite. Stormfall says he wishes for things to go back to the way they were. “You want me happy.”

His eyes soften in a way that melts her. She’s known for years. It’s love. 

First: Is it really? Are you sure?

“Of course I do,” Terra says. 

“So happy that you’d want me changed?”

Terra inhales, then holds it in. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You want to know when Stormfall changed?” Aqua steps forward, when she shouldn’t. He smells like sandalwood. In the Realm of Darkness, there was no smell. Aqua steps again, when she shouldn’t. Terra, hold me. Is Stormfall telling him this? Of course, she can’t lie to her Keyblade. He’s closing the gap, stopping just short. “It transformed when I realized I had to fight you.”

Terra lowers his gaze to his shoes. 

“Don’t apologize,” Aqua says, recalling how discouraged she was when Rainfell transformed. How she questioned everything—her education, her path to Mastery—as a lie. How Stormfall told her to keep her head up. That there is an answer to find. How naive. She once chastised Terra for being so close to the Darkness. Look where she is now. “I would have—”

First: Don’t. You know what that will do to him. And what he will do to you. 

Terra’s brows furrow. “You okay?”

Aqua grits her teeth. “Yes.” 

He smiles when he means to cry, and Aqua has the mind to kiss his eyelids and wipe the tears away. “Okay,” he says. “What were you saying before? You would have done what?”

Made the same choice all over again. For you.

Her chest hurts.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she says instead, desperate to keep her defenses up and ease the pain back into numbness. 

“I didn’t say you did.” He offers Stormfall again. 

Second: He does that. Nudges when he wants something and you’re busy. 

Third: Pokes when he wants something and you’re annoyed. 

Fourth: Questions you even when you’re right. It’s amusing.

First: My dear, you adore it when he does that. Careful—it’s going to hurt later when you want more and he can’t give it to you.

Terra smiles wider. It’s love. 

First: It’s—

Love. Shut up. Stormfall knows, though its link is weak. Terra is trying to hide it: Terra needs her, in the faintest whisper possible.

“I can’t take Stormfall,” Aqua says. 

“You can.”

Second, pointing: Look at him nudging.

“If Stormfall exists,” Terra says, “then by definition, you still have Light within you.” He finally exhales. “But that’s always been the case, right? A shadow can’t exist without Light, so, by definition, you are Light.”

Second: How preposterous. 

“Terra,” Aqua stresses, wanting to hit something. "Look at me.”

“I am.”

Stormfall gasps. It calls to Aqua. He’s about to say—

“Don’t say it,” Aqua says.

“Aqua—”

“Don’t—”

“You’re beautiful.”

First: Oh, honey.

Second: Ouch.

First, crossing her arms: He doesn’t have the privilege to say that.

Third: Why does that hurt so much?

Fourth: You are.

Beautiful… Even with these claws?

Stormfall betrays all of what Aqua wants to hide—it hurts, hurts, hurts, but Aqua wants it, and Terra feels it, so Terra wraps his fingers around the inner flesh of her wrists, over her scales. Touch me, so he does, gliding his hand up her forearm, brushing fumes from her skin, under her torn sleeves where he exposes smokey skin. Touch me more, and he pulls her in, embracing her. Terra plants his lips on her forehead, barely warm but there, and Aqua wants, and Aqua needs, and Aqua hurts. Aqua smells his sweat and sandalwood, and Aqua leans her face at his jaw, and his lips come to her eyebrow, and he kisses her there, and she kisses him too, close to the ear, and he digs his nose into her neck, and he opens his lips there, and Aqua wants, and Aqua needs, and Aqua hurts.

First: This is how you disappear. 

Second: Gut him. 

Third: Please, I can’t. All he does is make you want to cry.

Bury her, First says. You think you may want this, but when he leaves…

You are not Light, Second says. Not anymore. He’ll see that eventually.

No one is going to want your heart when they see what it’s really like now, Third says.

I love him, Fourth says. Can I keep him?

“I wish they would shut up,” Aqua whispers to his ear.

First says, We’re only looking out for you. 

“Who?” He pulls back and holds her by her bare shoulders.

She shouldn’t have said that out loud. That sudden empty space between—a stab now. That small warmth, all gone. “No one.” 

“Aqua?” He’s worried. 

Just hug me again. “I’m fine.”

“Here. Take Stormfall.”

She scoffs, wanting to push him. He always says things at the worst time, ruining everything. They were right. He can't accept her the way she is.

“So I can feel better?” She does push him. She wants to scratch, but stops herself. “You want to know why I’m like this?”

Terra looks like he’s been slapped on the face. With a low voice, he says, “I already know.”

“Is what I’ve done for you not enough?”

Terra squeezes his eyes, like she’s a monster in his closet he’s wishing away, saying, You’re just a nightmare. You’re only a dream. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” 

“What more can I give you? What more do you want?”

And, as if he can read her mind (Stormfall, that bitch), he says, “I want you to stay. Don’t go.”

Aqua can crumble. 

First: Come home.

Second: Come home.

Third: You’re safe with us.

Fourth: Stay home. 

First: Don’t leave us. He doesn’t know you anymore. We do.

Aqua balls her claws into fists. Because of the scales, they don’t sting. She shouldn't tear her heart out for him. She shouldn't. “Terra, all I’ve had for years were memories.”

Terra’s eyes water, but he blinks, and it’s gone. “Was I a good memory?”

First: My dear, you’re going to cry. You know I can’t allow that. 

“Yes,” Aqua says quietly. Stormfall and his heart could fly with hope. But is it false hope? “But,” she says, hesitating. “I’m your worst mistake. Aren’t I?”

His eyes grow hard. Determined, ready to fight. This is the one and only thing he’s confident in. “You have never been a mistake, Aqua. Never. And while I’ve done stupid things that have hurt you, not one regret of mine was you.”

Second, pointing again: Look at him questioning you.

“You’re not alone anymore,” Terra says. He opens his arms, his chest in jeopardy for attack. “You have me now.” 

And she wants him. And she needs him. But she hurts.

First: All those years alone...

He reminds her she's Dark, wanting him to grovel at her feet for forgiveness. He's Light, brave and radiant. He’s disarmed her and dealt the hardest blow, leaving her raw and bloody.

Fourth: My love, be gentler to yourself.

First: She's truthful. She owes that to herself.

Aqua doesn’t want to be read, needing to keep her heart buried and still. But he reads her page after page, like he’s dug into the dirt and pulled her out screaming. For once, Aqua looks away. He’s going to be the last one standing this time. 

“Aqua, don’t leave.”

“I can.”

“Don’t turn your back on Stormfall.” 

“I will.” 

“How do you expect me to let you walk away?”

“You let go.”

“I won’t.” He follows her, and takes her elbow. 

She shoves him off. “What do you want me to do?” 

Again, that fighting glare. “Let whatever I hurt you with go.”

“No, I won’t.” Aqua raises her voice. 

“It’s not good for you!”

“I have a piece of you with me.” She cups her fist to her chest. “Finally, after all these years. And here you are…” She blinks, unsure of what weapon he has in his pocket to throw next. “After everything, I finally have you back… and you can barely look at what I’ve become.”

“I didn’t—”

“I can’t walk away and have nothing to remember you by. I will never let it go.”

“Then share it,” he says too fast. 

First: Poor thing. He doesn’t understand what he’s asking for.

They lock eyes, blue to gold, and Aqua can barely fight him off. He has a habit of knowing exact secrets when she doesn’t want him to know, saying the right things at the wrong time. He might as well pierce her heart with a needle. Share it. That’s all she wanted, to share this with someone else. 

But she can’t do that to Terra. But she can. But she shouldn’t. But she needs to.

She needs to? She needs him to stay far away from her, for his own safety.

“You want your answer? To Stormfall?” Aqua says.

Terra starts to say something, but she cuts him off. Aqua takes Stormfall, and it feels… too intimate, like being stuck in a tight closet with a distant ex-friend. But it knows something is wrong. Confusion, and this electric discomfort. Stormfall does not want anything to do with whatever Aqua is right now. This isn’t it. This isn’t right. 

Aqua can’t fix it. 

“This is your answer.” Because Stormfall does not accept her either, Aqua drops it. It clatters when it hits the floor. She hears Terra pick it up again, slowly, as if with care and reverence, as she walks away. 

His touch wants her to come back home. 

But where is home?

First: With us.

Where it’s cold.

Fourth: With them.

Where it’s warm. 

All she wants is a nightmare she’s familiar with, not one that scares her.

[thievinghippo]

🍓🪐🍬

how did you get into writing fanfiction?

I started 20 years ago. Yep, I've been writing fanfic for longer than some of my readers have been alive! I was really into the HP fandom (remember 20 years ago!) and I was really captivated by the idea of the Order of the Phoenix. And I absolutely fell in love with Tonks. And I thought to myself, I would like to read fanfic of Snape/Tonks. I go search good ol' fanfic.net and discover that there were some one-shots, but not the novel-length, slow burn fic I was craving

So I wrote it myself! It was awful, but I learned a lot and never looked back

name three good things going on in your life right now

Discovering Chair Fit Camp. Here's the link! These videos are wonderful. I desperately need to move more in my daily life and because of various reasons, lots of walking or high impact exercise isn't great for me right now. But these videos are fantastic. It gets you moving while you're sitting down and some of them are short. My favorite is a 10 minute video I can do during my break at work

My original novel! I'm writing an original fantasy romance novel. I'm really hoping to have a first draft done by the end of the year (yes, I'm factoring in Veilguard playing time in that lol) and I'm really excited about it. I'll probably start talking about it a bit on tumblr soon. (Hint. It involves dwarves)

My mom's hip replacement is in just over three weeks. We have a game plan and we're going to be ready and organized this time around. (Unlike her last knee replacement 3.5 years ago, which was not a good time in our lives.) I'm so glad she's getting it done so she can start feeling better!

post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

I'm going there. Cullen absolutely didn't have the experience to be a military advisor. Teaching fighting techniques? Sure. But leading military campaigns? I headcanon that Blackwall realizes very quickly that Cullen is in over his head and discreetly offers his own army experience without letting anyone know he used to be an army captain

(ALSO. I wish the writers dug into the lyrium addiction so much more than they did. It would have added so much depth to his character!)