#yep i wrote a novel

[the-oracle-of-the-lost]

i've never seen a post talking about this so i guess it's my duty to bring up one of the strangest coincidences in Star Trek production.

so Star Trek Voyager was presumably named after the famous 1977 NASA Voyager probes designed to chart space beyond our heliosphere. the Voyager probes are maybe more famous for carrying the Golden Record – a time capsule of Earth and a message for any intelligent extraterrestrial life. the contents of the Golden Record were chosen by a committee chaired by Carl Sagan and notably included Sagan's young son (Nick) saying, "Hello from the children of planet Earth." (you can find this recording on wikipedia)

then twenty years later, Nick Sagan became a writer and story editor for season 5 of Star Trek Voyager.

there's even an episode in season seven after Sagan left the show that involves the crew tracking down a Golden Record like probe meant to reach extraterrestrial life that unwittingly caused societal destruction.

like i can't be the only person who thinks this is an absolutely hilarious coincidence.

[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.

[hirschkuh-im-traum]

Masterlist

Here's my Ao3 (Hirschkuh) if you're interested ^_^

➳❥ Sunbeam (kissing in the rain with human!alastor)

✧ part one

✧ part two

➳❥ Watch you sleeping (just falling asleep in alastor's embrace, short fluff)

➳❥ Night visitor 18+ (demon!alastor x human!reader smut for halloween)

➳❥ 'Till nothing's left 18+ (one day alastor is visited by a stranger who asks just one thing: to be eaten)

➳❥ Pomegranate 18+ (reader x alastor smut based on a persephone and hades myth)

➳❥ You've got me voodoo'd 18+ (witch!fem!reader x human!alastor)

✧ prologue

✧ part 1

➳❥ Bloodlust 18+ (a vampire smut with alastor)

✧ part 1

✧ part 2

➳❥ Checkmate you (a game of chess between a not very lucky reader and alastor with some special rules)

➳❥ Sleepyhead (a very fluffy story with an extremely sleepy reader and overprotecting alastor)

✧ part 1

✧ part 2

✧ part 3

✧ part 4

➳❥ Your scent (just some thoughts about the special scents of the crew (yep, i was reading perfume when i wrote this headcanon) )

➳❥ Heaven in hell (a story about finding your comfort in a literally hellish place)

➳❥ Ma poupée 18+ (porcelain doll reader x alastor (i really don't know what else to say))

✧ part 1, fragile

✧ part 2, sensitive

✧ part 3, dressed-up

➳❥ We'll meet again (human!reader x demon!alastor plus some gothic novels' cliches or something)

✧ part 1, the summoning

✧ part 2, the power

✧ part 3, by your side

➳❥ Let us make this dance properly (the very first work of mine, and it's about dancing with alastor)

[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.

[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

[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!)

[bumblebeebats]

I just saw a screenshot on Instagram about a story about a post apocalyptic family named after ancient manuscripts such as Pepsi and Hershey. It looked like you, so do you know about this. If so, can I see it?

Wait, it's going round on Instagram now?? 😂 Yep, that's me lmaoo - it was called PANERA and it was about a post-nuclear-apocalyptic society in which everyone named their kids after brand names (the same way that people in the past often named their kids after nature/animals) bc they lived pretty much exclusively off scavenged grocery store food.

I know I uploaded to google docs at one point so I can dig around a bit and find it, but be warned, I wrote it when I was 11 so it's not very good, lmao

Edit: Ok here it is, managed to fix the formatting a bit bc for some reason it got all messed up! :/

Also, if you've still got the link to that Instagram post handy I'd love to see it lolll, I'm so curious what people have to say about my wildly copyright-infringing first attempt at a novel 😂

[cherokeegal1975]

Unexpected Cargo

Yep, I'm the author. I can tell you that there's no kink, barely any sex at all, no spurting bodily fluids, no weird fixations on lactating (it's there, but it's absolutely not a kink or fetish fuel thing and I mean that with total sincerity), it's not gay (just a matter of personal taste and not prejudice, I swear), and absolutely no fetishes! So basically, none of the things that the mpreg genera is all too often notorious for and I hate all that crap. Just awful. It also has a decent plot,, which is something else most mpregs don't have. In fact the main focus is the story as a whole and the experiences of the main protagonist. One spoiler, he didn't get into his situation by having sex. Instead, something unexpected happens when he agrees to take a job from a fleeing princess...and they were never romantically involved...which is just as well, because it would have been creepy and weird if they got involved. Though he does get romantically involved with his sister...sort of. Ha-ha, just kidding, his adopted sister, so no incest. Unusual, but such things have been done in real life.

Anyway, since I'm between jobs at this time, I really could use your support of my work. I don't sell my books very often and when I do manage a sale, it's this one and only this one. Must have something going for it.

Yes, I might be singing my own praises, but I have reason to believe in my work. If it wasn't for some unfortunate circumstances, I'd be getting a professional editor and publisher to work for me. But neither of those come cheap. Neither will the services of a book cover illustrator because I am aware that I need an update on that too. And even a reader to make an audiobook version once all the editing was done. I've gotten very limited feedback, but some of it was very useful. Even so, people tend to like my novel.

So, check out Unexpected Cargo. It's on Amazon and it comes in paperback and in Kindle. Let me know if you agree with me that this novel would work well as a Netflix movie or mini series.

P.S. - I wrote this novel because I was bored, wanted to break away from Eden Symbiotic (my other novel) and hated the majority of the stories in the mpreg genera. So thought it would be a fun challenge to write something that most people are bad at and turn it into a good story. As far as exploring mpregs, well, I was mind numbingly bored out of my mind. So I went do odd places online to find anything entertaining. Why that direction I don't know. It expanded my vocabulary and introduced me to concepts I'd never thought of on my own. Most of the time it left me disgusted and I've largely given up on searching for such crap anymore. Still, it inspired me to try it myself, minus all the elements I hated.

I hope you notice that the bulk of the books I recommend are the largely popular mainstream books. I'm more into those than the weird shit I sometimes get into for whatever reason.

[annaofthenorthernlights]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @firawren

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 123 (year 2021-2024)

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 1,036,044

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Frozen, Beauty & The Beast (Disney 1991), a little Encanto, House of the Dragon

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Instincts – or the beast inside (E-rated, my first batb1991)

Bury me in your fur (E-rated, batb1991)

Blame it on the books (E-rated, batb1991)

The beach case (T rated, Frozen, collaborated work with @hiptoff)

Love can see the good (T-rated, my first Frozen fanfic)

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes, I do! That´s a must 😊

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don´t have angsty endings, but might happen within a fic – f.e. Fall to rise (Gaston redemption au)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? All my fics have happy endings 😊. One that means a lot to me is Never too late (Frozen, kristanna elderly residence au, where old Kristoff/Anna fall in love)

8. Do you get hate on fics? Thanks heavens no.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yep, I do! Well, not on my very first writings. The naughtiness grew along the ride 😊

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Yes, I do – and the craziest is surely All you need is love... actually (Frozen, Brave, Hercules, Moana) and Smut in space (crazily E-rated, Frozen x batb1991) - which is losely based on the legendary christmas movie "Love actually)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I pray not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I translated my own fic Boat ship into German (Boot-ship ahoi) a kristanna vacation au (rated T)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I did the collaborated fic-writing together with @hiptoff as mentioned at 4. (does that count?)

14. What’s your all time favourite ship? Anna/Kristoff, Belle/Adam (Belle/Beast)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?  "Of sweet delight in physicality" (title might change…), a hotd canon divergent au, pairing: Alicent Hightower/Laerys Strong, where Alicent and Laerys meet as kids and become friends, Alicent caring deeply for the crippled boy until they grow older and fall in love, but need to hide it due to Alicent´s fate of arranged marriage with king Viserys.

16. What are your writing strengths? Fluff, definitely fluff & dialogues (I must give credit to @hiptoff again who was my very idol for dialogues in the beginning of my writing years). And I think my descriptions of atmosphere and sceneries are draw the reader right into the middle of things (that´s what I have been told 😊)

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Angst (that´s longer than just one chapter… lol), hurt, diving into very deep feelings and just scratching at the top to get the fic going…

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I am currently working on a novel in German, but that´s mostly for Nanowrimo…

19. First fandom you wrote for? Frozen

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

That´s a hard one, because I think I love all my fanfics equally the same (seriously), but I think I am very proud on my first fanfic baby “Love can see the good” (kristanna, canon divergent au, post Frozen 2 where I wanted to tell the story of Anna/Kristoff from breaking the damn and going back to Arendelle up to Anna´s coronation and finally a kristanna wedding). And currently I am posting the sequel Love can see beyond. So, this series is my longest and hardest worked on fanfic for Anna/Kristoff and I care deeply for them.

Tagging all for fun @luthien-under-bough @hiptoff @justfrozenthings @sweetpeapod @99goosebumps @shield-agent78 @reconciledviolence729 @endlesstwanted

[tranquilpetrichor]

the friendship problem

synopsis: in which you have company during morning break, and it is strangely tolerable.

cast: jiung (p1harmony) x gn!reader

genre: strangers to friends, high school!au

wc: 1.1k (1,117)

warnings: discussions of loneliness, reader is implied to show some symptoms of social anxiety, barely proofread

notes: looking back at my high school experience (and reflecting on my growth throughout school in general) thus far makes me oddly nostalgic. this one's definitely self-indulgent. here's to the people who didn't ask me why i was so quiet, who accepted my idiosyncrasies and admittedly, brought out a friendlier side in me.

(also peep that word count i wasn't gonna post this originally but i must, i count 1117 as a small ateez reference.)

erasing the inappropriate drawings from the side whiteboard, you began to write a problem from your calculus textbook.

“integral of w squared times sin of 10 w…” you said out loud to yourself.

you could have gone outside, as it was time for break, but you found your math teacher’s classroom to be more comforting. natural light gently shone through the windows, the air freshener emitted a scent of pine, and best of all, there were no crowds to be found.

you had tried to get over your discomfort around large crowds and navigate to the cafeteria to buy a snack, but found that it was quite the pain in the ass to squeeze between couples who walked as slow as tortoises and boys who elbowed people everywhere they went.

through those wonderful experiences, you learned that the epicenter of your high school’s social life overwhelmed you the hard way.

shaking intrusive thoughts from your mind, you began to visualize solutions to this calculus problem. after a minute or two of writing, you had the answer.

“let’s go!” you cheered, knowing no one else would hear it, but finding it funny nonetheless.

suddenly, you heard a voice and turned around to see a classmate you vaguely recognized from classes you shared. jiung, that was his name.

“don’t mind me,” he said, “just looking for a place to read.”

your shoulders tensed up a little, but you nodded, resuming your work on another problem.

normally, you would expect an noticeable and uncomfortable silence, but jiung seemed to be just as at peace with the quiet as you were. that was more than you could say for a lot of people, who felt as if they had to fill silence with words that seemed rather meaningless.

curiously, you glanced at him reading. the book was an alternate history fiction novel by haruki murakami, titled 1Q84. you've read it before, of course.

"uh, enjoying your book so far?" you asked him, cursing under your breath afterwards when you got the low battery notification on your laptop.

"well," he paused briefly, "murakami's descriptions tend to be long-winded and i find some of the scenes a bit odd, but it's interesting for me. have you read it before?"

"yeah, i have. i had fun trying to make sense of all the symbolism, but i admit that 1Q84 can be a tough read for some."

you tried not to show it, but your eyes sparkled with excitement.

"since you've read it, it'd be nice to talk to someone about the book once i'm done." he smiled. "wait, your name is y/n, right? i've seen you in some of my classes."

you set the whiteboard marker down. “yep. and i know your name is jiung.”

he stared at the board in front of him, now filled from the not-quite-top to the bottom with math problems. "you wrote a lot in such a short amount of time. do you find math easy?"

you shrugged. "let's just say it's relaxing for me."

he did ask an interesting question. to be fair, you hadn't always liked math as much as you did now, being a highly stubborn child who was averse to doing their homework back then.

however, a natural curiosity to learn new concepts coupled with a preference for being alone gave you the time to sit down and ponder random topics, developing a special love for math due to its basis in objectivity.

in general, your teachers loved the fact that you asked questions and stayed during morning breaks and after class sometimes—their classrooms felt like a second home.

so yeah, you discovered that you liked doing math, and it was better than being around people who deliberately excluded you, or trying to participate in conversations where you knew you wouldn't get a word in.

better to be alone than to feel lonely, right?

(yeah, just keep telling yourself that.)

he stood up to stretch. "that's cool, i definitely admire that. you don't hear people call math relaxing often."

"to each their own. i just think it's important for someone to have something they enjoy, and who gives a shit what it is if it doesn't hurt anyone?"

you probably shouldn't have added the last part, as it came out more defensive than you anticipated. however, jiung didn't seem surprised. his eyes were kind and welcoming.

"i think it's a good rule to go by. there'd be way less conflict in the world if people minded their own business. oh, speaking of that, i hope i didn't bother you by coming in."

to your surprise, you didn't mind. "of course not, it is a teacher's classroom anyways, not mine, so obviously people have the right to come in, although most don't. and i mean, i do prefer it to be quiet while working. but your presence isn't bad or anything."

you twirled the whiteboard marker around in your hands. “quite the opposite, really. i actually liked talking to you.”

“do you not like talking to others?” he joked, probably noticing the emphasis you put on “liked.”

“i figure i either scare people away or they’re not the kind of person i want to be friends with anyways. also, not gonna lie, socializing is hard.”

for better or for worse, you knew what people thought about you—this was a fairly small school, after all. it was easier to just isolate than to worry about who was judging you.

"nothing wrong with incompatibility," he said with a small smile and a shrug. "it just means there's people out there who are better suited for you anyways."

you hadn't thought about your situation like that, but that was probably a wise way to put it.

"that... actually makes sense."

where was this dude lurking? it would have been nice to get to know him earlier, you thought. although it might be too early to tell, you had put him tentatively under a category of "people that were better suited for you."

jiung glanced at his phone for a quick second. "break's ending soon, so i have to head to my history class, but i enjoyed talking to you!”

he headed toward the door, but as he was about to leave, he turned back, as if he was forgetting something. "hey, mind if i get your kakaotalk information? let's chat again sometime."

you entered in your number, voice a little shaky. "i'd love to chat. and if you ever need to find me, i'll be here, like i always am."

"well then, i'll see you around!"

he walked to his next class, leaving you to ponder if it really was so difficult to make friends after all.

[mrssimply]

Santino randomly eating pineapple, and John is confused about it. "Why are you eating pineapple?"

"Because I like it?" But he smirks and winks at him. John has no idea what pineapple... does to one 🌚

Until he experiences it when Santino gets extremely needy and wild, horny. Leaving John fucking exhausted after everything 💀

It's the whole scenario of him dropping random horny sentences into normal ones 😭

"We could definitely go out tomorrow, maybe in a bar, so we can have a very messy sex in the bathroom." He says that with his cute little smile while John nearly chokes on his drink :]

I'm sorry I literally can't stop thinking about those scenarios ever since you wrote about them, it's too good 😭

Ok, you absolutely gotta clear something up: does Pinapple have an aphrodisiac effect I'm not aware of?!

Because your ask seems to hint at it, but it's the first time I hear about pineapple having such an effect and NO ONE WAS GOING TO TELL ME?

I mean, ginger I knew about, but pineapple no, and if so, yep, I need to have Santino eat it. But maybe, just like me, he isn't aware of its effect and just genuinely enjoys it. Probably equals it to summertime, and gets overjoyed (inside, outside of course, nothing shows, he's carefully controled). One day, he eats a bit more than usual, and since it's a slow day, there is nothing to distract his mind. He's trying to read a book (an actual novel for a change! Not a report on his enemies' activity) and watching John tend to the garden (you know he would, would probably be good at it, since he's patient and methodical, would have the most beautiful roses in town without even seeming to try that hard).

It's a hot day so John ends up in his tank top, covered in dirt smears and sweat, Dog "helping" him by digging holes around him (but John actually uses the holes, because he doesn't want Dog to think he's ungrateful). And Santino's gaze keeps slipping to John, watching his muscles move, the was his tats glistens, and he can't help but want to lick the salt off his nape.

And the worse thing is that it makes him thirsty, so he's eating more pinapple morcels left at his disposal, so it's really a vicious circle. So when John takes a break to drink, and comes closer to where Santino is lounging, the man beacons him closer and calls him to bend over him so he can kiss him.

John kisses back, happyly surprised by this sudden display of affection. But the kiss turns passionate and heavy very suddenly, and before he can gather his wits, he's straddling Santino and the man is shamelessly grinding up against him, attacking his neck with his tongue and sucking bruises on his clavicle.

And the pergola is not super exposed, but it's still not very intimate, so John probably isn't super confrotable with the idea of fucking right there (because it's clearly where this seems to be going) and Santino can sense it, but Santino is very insistent.

And he tastes sweet, which always makes John moan and kiss him harder: he only loves sweet things when tasted out of Santino's lips.

And soon, Santino is going to uses his mouth for something else >:]

More under the cut cause it gets a little bit hornier.

I love the idea that he would be insatiable, and that even if he made John come once, and got off himself, he would want to go on.

And John would get behind the idea and be the best service top that he is (or the best service switch) and keep going until Santino was a shivering oversensitive mess.

Until he comes dry one last time and just... Pass out.

I doubt just pineapple would do that, but maybe with MDMA?

Damn, now I wanna write "sex pollen" fic. Santino doused in the new sex drug on the market, being totally insatiable...