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darthnell · 9 months

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6, 8, 14, 16, 23, 25, 39, 51, 56, 71

Ooh ty for the ask !! <3 This one is so fun, I'm excited :D Thank u for sending so many also !! Okay, I'm putting this one under a readmore because it's quite long lol.

6. Do you have your work beta'd? How important is this to your process?

Okay, I've actually only had one of my works beta'd and that was the recent one I posted, The Bridges We Burn. I wrote this one for an event in the THG server I'm in, and this story has... I'll just say, one of the gnarliest injuries I've ever written, so I really wanted some extra eyes on it to make sure it read as I wanted to and also tied in with the themes I was writing about. Oh, and making sense from a medical standpoint LOL (one of my betas for that fic has knowledge in that area hjvfh).

In general though, I'm my own beta. Maybe I'll look into getting one for my next fic, but we'll see !

8. Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?

Oooh... Writing or reading..? Hm either way, I don't know.. I do love opening scenes though, both reading and writing. And also ending scenes... And the middle is.. well you could do anything there HBJDH. I do also love coming back to the start of a story after finishing writing or reading, it's refreshing almost. But. Yeah, I don't really have a good answer for this one. I just love stories ;-;

14. How do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

Mannn I looooove emotional scenes !!! I think... making myself feel what the characters are feeling is part of the process for me. Maybe that's one of the reasons I like writing so much...? I don't know ! Also re: personal experience, hm. That's a hard one.. I think I have like. Personal experiences that I can sometimes vaguely apply to scenes I'm writing, just as a reference for certain emotions, but it's never like. Explicitly copy-pasted from that. I've never watched a human being get brutally murdered in front of me, so I just have to get creative on that front LOL. (Uh context for anyone unfamiliar - I write hunger games fics bvdbfh)

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Oh lord.. So Many. I have a list in my personal discord server, it's... a Lot. Some of the main ones, I guess... I have some drafts for the events of what happened for both of Venatrix's parents' Games, since they're both Victors (different years). I also have a sequel to True Vengeance planned. I'm planning to rewrite the Victory Tour fic for 168th Games. And I'm also planning an SYOT for the 175th Games, where the Quell twist is Victors choose the tributes. :D

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

God, I say this so often but. Write for yourself !!! If you're not obsessed with what you're writing, then no one else is going to be ! And I'm not saying it's a sin to want feedback or praise or comments or kudos for your writing. I simply mean that, since You're the one writing, you damn well better love it. Gonna end this response with a quote from Mary Shelley about her novel Frankenstein (which I just read ahah) that really resonates with me:

"And now, once again, I bid my hideous progeny go forth and prosper." <3

25. What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

Oooh.. Hm, well, I'll never say no to more responses for True Vengeance LOL. But I think for the moment, I'll have to plug The Bridges We Burn since it's my most recent project. I did just post it, and all at once, so it makes sense that it hasn't gotten much traction outside of the discord server yet!

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

Oh god a wip.. I haven't. Written anything for TrV in ages, but I do have one chapter in the backlog. ...Oh this one is fun (:

Growing up, there had only been one instance in which Venatrix truly felt terrified of her father. Before any of them were permitted to start training, their parents decreed it necessary to watch the entirety of their respective Games. Eight years old, he’d taken her down to the basement of their home, alone, and turned on the screen. She’d been excited at first, to find out what exactly made her dad a hero. It melted away with the fire.

:D totally normal family events.

51. What’s your total AO3 word count?

Ahaha... Total: 467,503. For just THG: 448,413

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

Oooh.. I think I write fighting and action scenes well. I know that's something that people often have trouble with, but I've been told I do a good job with it. And I enjoy reading back what I write generally. I also think like... my writing is very visceral, and it has to be because that's how I feel the stories. Idk. If I feel it in my chest, that's generally a good thing. Does that make sense? No? Yes. Yes it does.

71. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

Oh god.. question of the century lmaoo.. The only real example I have of this is True Vengeance (the fic stands at 250k rn) and its. Honestly a horrible example HJBVHBVFH. "How do you keep track of outlines" well first off my outline for this fucking fic is 130 pages I am really not who you should be asking BHVDHBFV. It's literally unusable, but on the bright side, being 253k into the fic means I know the characters and story like the back of my hand pretty much so that's good.

The outline was basically my original dumping grounds for any thoughts about the story that I wanted to include. Yes, there is an outline within the outline. Yes, I had to go through and reorganize the entire outline at one point for anything to make sense.

But yeah, story wise, that's where I'd put all the little details and then major details that I wanted to include. Right now though.. In my current fic document, I have a few notes under the sections where the remaining chapters are gonna go. So when I go to write those chaps, I'll see my notes down there (that I migrated over from the outline) that I need to make sure I include as I write.

Timeline is pretty straightforward since the story is linear. But I did make like.. a concise outline of the timeline of what's happening in the Games themselves by day, which was very helpful. I also have notes for each character to track the injuries they get and when (the comments function in gdocs is v helpful for that, I use it Frequently).

The development I guess is just. Idk... that's the meat of the story. Being aware of like. Where Venatrix's mindset has been during each part of the story has been pretty important. Since I write very closely to her character, that's basically where I get like.. the tone, I guess? It's been especially important as we saw her, uh, mcfreaking lose it last chapter so. That was fun. Like, the characters are naturally gonna be in a v different place at the end of the story versus at the beginning, and being aware of the steps it took to get there is. Good.

Ven isn't the only pov char of the story, and even w the characters that don't get povs here (like Mariposa and Dagmara and Percy in the case of TrV), it's important to be aware of where they're at and make sure they have agency outside of the pov char's head. So... yeah my main recommendation is to write everything down. Just Everything. But.. also ideally in a manner that's organized enough where you can reliably use it as a reference. And if the story changes as you go despite your outline, that's fine too ! Good even - it often means the characters are developing wills of their own and wanting to take the reins, and most of the time, you should let them.

Thank you again anon for the questions !!! Hope you enjoyed my rambling LOL

#nell clownery here #true vengeance 151 #hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games oc #hunger games fanfic #the hunger games #my writing #ask game #fic writing #fic writer ask game #writing #fanfiction

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bonnymori · 3 years

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01 | 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫... 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭?!

chapter 01 / chapter 02 / chapter 03

Word count: 1250+

Synopsis: During a particularly boring afternoon, a muscly man with a purple worm around his shoulders has made his way onto your house- literally, smashing through your window- and, subconciously, onto your life.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Fushiguro Toji x gn!Reader, theres also Gojo cat as your cat!! (2) Reader finds Toji's worm cute; i'm sorry if you don't just skip that part (3) There's some cursing but I promise next chapter won't

A/N: I have a lot of drafts and this is the most normal looking I've got... so let's post it first ehehehhsjhd- Also, I'm remaking the structure of the posts (Megumi's one-shot is updated with the very same visual as this!), hope it looks less unorganized! Thank you for reading <3

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To think you'd let such a stranger barge into your apartment- actually, you would never imagine such a comeup. But here are we.

Right in front of you there is a man. Raven locks, black shirt, white baggy pants - is that a purple... gut, intestine thing around his chest? - and a pair of imacculate ballet shoes on his feet. The dude is knocked out cold, it seems that he barely made it through your window, only to come head first against your floor tiles. Now you have drops of blood all over the floor and counter- and, a bleeding man.

You can't tell which task will be more grueling to solve.

Because you have a working brain, of course the man comes first. No matter if your window is broken, and a handfull of glass shards adorn your countertops. And now you've accidentally stepped upon one- just then you realise the man's back must be feeling like a bed of thors- or shards, over being dragged through the floor.

So you throw his arms - which you notice, has a few cuts here and there - over your shoulders, and picks him up in a one-person carry; barely, his torso is against yours and legs are dangling on the floor, this guy must weigh the double you do. It feels like you're carrying a fridge.

From your peripheral, you can see Satoru paddle to the kitchen's doorframe, probably wondering if you were preparing a meal for him or whatever.

"I'll be back in a moment, Ru." He meows a reply, dragging his mountain of fluff back to your couch- you're certain he's taking your spot, while it's still warm.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long for you to reach the bathroom, dropping the man leisurely upon your fluffy mat. Beside all the cuts, the man has already a plentiful share of permanent scars, and none are of your business, you don't care. It's like cleaning and stitching up a old doll full of tears, by the way you're able to maneuver his limbs; you're glad he's still unconscious.

But the thing around his shoulders is not.

In a blink of eye, it jumps from his shoulder to yours, attaching itself to your back and nestling upon your shoulder. When you glance down at it, it feels like a weird looking parrot.

"Hi?" You ask, it looks back at you. "Are you like, his pet or something?" It doesn't talk, just gazes at you through half lidded eyes; so you give up on short talking it, not knowing what you expected yourself. "Let's go finish my movie then!"

You join Satoru on the couch, the cat rapidly making room on your comfortable lap; and the man forgotten, snoring soundly on your bathroom.

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A sequel and half movie later, you hear a loud thud coming from the kitchen. Even though you're aware there's a strange in your house- the sudden sound still naturaly jolts you out of your seat.

"UGH- Goddamn it-" Next comes a colorful list of slurs; a sigh makes way out of your mouth.

You round the corner, pointing a accusing finger to the strange man, who's laying on your floor again. "No cussing on my house."

"Why didn't you even clean this floor, it's loaded with glass shards."

"I wanted to finish my movie afternoon before doing so. Besides, what made you smash through there," You point to the ruined window. "to here." Then, to the kitchen floor. And finally, motioning to your whole apartment.

That was a interesting question, he expected a "Who are you?" or "I'm calling the cops!" call.

"I don't need to explain you shit."

"Think of it as an retribution, since I patched you up, answer my question."

"No."

"That, or you'll pay for my window."

A sigh. "Fine. I was being chased."

"You're a criminal, then?" You questioned.

"Yes." A devilish grin made its way to his face, showing canines and stretching the small scar on the corner of his mouth.

"Alright, just don't get me involved then."

Toji is familiar to that sort of outcome. Sometimes people man up, people weaker than him. But he knows he's intimidating, and he absolutely loves to play with the attitude of those who challenge him.

Forgetting the shart carving on the sole of his feet, he walks up to you efortlessly, towering over your frame.

"Well, are you not scared to have a criminal inside your house?"

"No, I'm not defenseless. And, you're bleeding. Again."

"Shit." Toji sits down close to the wall where it's safe, twisting his leg to bring the injured foot up to his face. He easily plucks the reddened shart between thick digits, and throws it far away from him.

Meanwhile, you bring your first-aid kit up to him, setting it down near.

"Here, use this."

"..."

"I'll do it for you then." You wasted no time, reaching for the line and thread. Once everything was stitched, you wrap a bandage around his foot, then pats it finished. "What's your name?"

"Fushiguro Toji."

"I'm L/N Y/N, lost all your bite huh?" You tease.

Casually ignored. "Why do you have a first-aid kit? Most people don't have it on their houses."

"I practice muay thai, it's useful both for me and you."

"Right. Have you seen my worm?"

"Well, make yourself at home, until your feet gets better. And yeah, your worm jumped at me like those surprise music boxes, and now it's on the couch with my cat. It's been watching movies with us."

He was beyond curious, because the worm didn't have a thinking mind nor knew what even meant to watch something. Toji limped to the doorframe, eyes widening once he spotted the worm wrapped snuggly around your very fluffy cat.

"That's some cute shit."

"The worm is gross."

"I think it looks cute."

"You're batshit crazy."

You stretched your limbs. "Whatever, let's waste some more time watching TV."

Toji sat down - mind you, taking a handful of space you were not content with - once you picked up "both" animals to make room. He thinks you're weird, seeing the fact you didn't question what the hell was that giant-purple-moving worm, and for letting in a random guy inside your house. You do fight a martial art, though, but most people wouldn't have such confidence on him - a dude build like a truck.

There's some survival show playing in the background, yet he's beyond bored watching it, so he settles in questioning your questionable manners.

"How are you so chill about everything?"

"Oh well," You seemed focused on the show, surprisement showing itself once you turn to him. "I see these things in a daily basis, so it's really no big deal after a while."

"Curses?"

"Yep."

"You-"

"I'm going to clean the kitchen. Also, I ask you once the skies darken, to leave my house."

"..."

"Is there a problem?"

"I got no hideout out there."

"Suuure you don't." You sighed. "Alright, the couch is your best option; if I hear rumbles at night, or if you steal me or something, I'll be the one chasing you."

"Right, have fun cleaning the blood stained kitchen."

"The audacity." You left with a smirk, shaking your head.

Although you're weird, so far, you're also the most interesting individual Toji has come up to par with; something in this house prickles at his skin to stay. Plus, the fluffy cat laying on his lap is very cute aswell.

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#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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batteryrose · 2 years

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im late but ASK GAME TIME!! 1, 9, 21, 28, 36

Hey Mo I love you!! And that's a lot of numbers!!! Fine I'll answer them

Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

Wouldn't mind rewriting and bettering Tragedy Farce if only I have THE GODDAMN TIME

You also have to kill the perfectionist in you sometimes. I'd rather move on and make some other funky stuff

Thoughts on cliffhangers.

What about cliffhangers. I can be tricked into thinking bad stories are good if they have a good cliffhangers in every chapter or something....... So I'd say they're pretty important. You gotta make people keep reading somehow! I'm pretty bad at it myself though.

Can you accurately predict how long your fics are going to be? If you can, what's your secret?

I can't really. There is some intuition in shorter ones though. Usually those one shots with only one scene that I like writing will end up around 2k words. Somehow that's just how long all of them would be without me even checking the word count. And it would be enough, too. Crazy

As for my longer fics, they always end up double the amount of what I predicted lol

Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

I think to write often you have to be amongst writers. Have some writer friends like this, who tags you in.. Asks games.

Seriously though, it seems to work best. Reading all your friends works and throwing your own out there to be read. It's a rhythmic cycle. There's nothing else more motivating. As for writing longer fics, I have a habit of not talking/sharing wips about it to anyone until it's finished. I probably should! You probably should. You can probably get better ideas from other people. You might also catch mistakes early. Either way, Use People.

What else... Mmmmmoh I usually continue reading a book first before I start writing because then the words flows out easier. But that might just be because I'm not a native english speaker. Get the english brain going. I think it'll work for everyone though.

When I'm so lazy and stubborn to write anything, I'll use an alarm to do those 25 min writing sprints. This I rarely do. It's only for my long fics that I procrastinate on horribly. It sort of works tho and after some days I'd start writing on my own without needing the alarm.

One other thing too maybe: draft on phone and edit on computer! Especially porn!! Cannot for the love of me ever do that on computer

How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?

I like to reference things in titles basically. I'm not creative. If I'm stumped then I'll just steal some other people's titles. The Tragedy Farce one, for example, is a title of a philosophy book written by Slavoj Zizek, which is also referencing Marx's quote about Napoleon that says: "history repeats, first as tragedy then as Farce" or something like that (I think he was specifically talking about Napoleon III). 'Less than Nothing' is also a zizek book title, while also being something Leon himself said once. It's great.

Some other titles that reference things:

Sleipnir is a horse in nordic mythology who is ridden by Odin, who has eight legs, like the,,, eight princes of Rhodolite. So "Sleipnir's Second Limb" just means Chevalier. Through the pov character's view, he is seen as some sort of a God.

I know Nothing about norse mythology. I believe I was searching for just about any horse god out there to reference. I think this one is perfect.

"If the mountain won't come to Mochammad," and "God Between Us and All Harm" are both people sayings that I found by googling. I'm most proud of the Muhammad one. It fits PERFECTLY with Adam's dumb predicament there. As for the second one, it just sounds visceral with the content of the fic.

'Symptoms of Rosette Disease' is just some words. Honestly thinking of changing it. Rosette disease itself is a fascinating plant disease, that's why I used it. And it's supposed to mean the underlying prejudice and inequality that exists in Rhodolite, the kingdom of roses, or something. I'm Trying to be profound here

'The Skies Have Been Empty' is also a good one... It's just Wellington noticing that over the centuries the stars have been less visible (because of light pollution babyyyyyyyyyyyy) and since stars was how people find their way in the past, he now has lost his way in life, Something Something

That's all I have to say about titles. I just woke up.

#Ask

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preciousthingsareprecious · 3 years

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That Time Tim Totally Terminated Ra's Al Ghuls Entire Empire Part 1

So. I wrote something very silly. The title says it all, except it doesn't because this bad boy spiraled out to being over 10k and deserving of 2 chapters. Anyway, here is the first chapter featuring all the times Ra's kidnapped Tim because he wanted to recruit him.

Summary:

"Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.” Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”

AO3 Link

Tim wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up in this situation. No really. One moment he’d been in Gotham, crouched behind an old BMW that had been in the same spot for a month, waiting on Batman’s signal, the next he’d woken up in some lavishly decorated room. Was that silk? Or maybe velvet? He had no idea what was hanging around the bed he was laying in, but Tim really didn’t care.

What he was concerned about was his own personal state. He raised his arms --that alone was a good sign-- and confirmed that his mask was in place. He pushed himself up on the ridiculously plush bed, -which was unreasonably plush by the standards of a kid who'd grown up rich, and then gone to live with a guy who had both more money and even better beds.

The point was, the bed was so soft Tim actually had a bit of trouble sitting up.

When he did manage to right himself, he finished taking stock of his own situation and his surroundings. His Robin uniform was intact aside from his belt, but he saw that set on a trunk that looked at least as old as Bruce, a few feet away. The room was, as he already determined, lavishly decorated.

Tim pushed himself out of the bed and onto a carpet so thick he kind of wanted to pull off his shoes and curl his toes in it, but seeing as he still had no idea where he was, who took him, or why, he figured that was probably out of the question. He did make a mental note to ask Bruce for some better carpet when he got home. As a kind of gift for surviving a very weird kidnapping.

Instead, he moved to walk carefully around the room. He found no obvious traps, no cameras or speakers or microphones that were either hidden or out in the open, and both doors were unlocked.

The first he opened revealed a bathroom. The second he cracked open to peer out of. His eyes locked on that of an honest to goodness ninja standing guard outside the door. The man locked eyes with him and Tim snapped the door shut with a click.

Welp, that answered the who and maybe even the where of Tim’s abduction. Ra’s Al Ghul. He was pretty sure if he gave the ninja ten minutes to go find Mr. al Ghul himself, he’d have the why too.

While he waited, Tim snapped his belt back around his waist, comfortable to have its weight back, even if being in a League stronghold meant all the tricks in his pockets were basically useless on his own. Still, it was nice to feel fully like Robin again.

After that it was a matter of waiting.

Tim paced an actual trench into the thick carpet as he waited. Batman was of course looking for him. That was a given, he just had to wait for the man to find him. Or for Ra’s to send him home? He really wasn’t sure why the Eco-terrorist would have taken him in the first place beyond a really weird obsession with Batman's various sidekicks.

How come all of Bruce’s baddies seemed to have a strange fixation on Robins? It was weird how many went out of their way to kidnap and attempt to recruit him, Dick, and if the stories were to be believed, Jason too.

Just as Tim was starting to turn that particular thought over in his head, the door to his room opened and Ra’s himself strolled in.

“Timothy.” the man drawled.

“Ra’s.” Tim replied, suddenly totally and completely unsure what to do with his hands, voice, feet, and general self. This wasn’t a fight after all.

He settled for crossing his arms and being terribly glad his domino hid his eyes.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here.” Ra’s said.

Tim shrugged, “It doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to guess that.”

The man frowned at him, and Tim started to wonder if maybe he should be watching his words a bit. He wasn’t in Gotham with Batman at his back after all. But then again, Ra’s must need something from him right? So a little sass was okay, what was Robin without a smart mouth after all?

“I mean--” Tim started, unable to stop himself now that he was thinking about it, “I can probably start to guess. You didn’t kill me and I’m not in a dungeon so you’ve got to want something from me right? I bet this is some blend of trying to win me over and also hold me above Batman because you--” he paused for a moment trying to remember if Bruce had been on Ra’s’ trail at all lately.

He dropped his arms and clapped, remembering, “You’ve been trying to break into energy and you want Wayne Enterprise to back you and legitimize your business. So you’re holding Tim over Bruce, but you probably want Robin because you and like half of Batman’s rogues have this weird obsession with teen heroes for some reason."

At some point he’d stopped looking at Ra’s and actually started pacing again. When he stopped talking his feet stilled and he looked back up at Ra's and grinned, ""So, am I hot or freezing cold?”

He expected Ra's to looked angry or irritated, instead he looked amused.

“You are quite warm. Though I would contend the assertion that I have a weird obsession with teen heroes. I am only interested in the exceptional, and you Timothy, are exceptional indeed.”

Tim gulped, “I mean--not really? But thanks.”

Ra’s waved him off, “We will speak more later. You are correct, I do intend to use you as a bargaining chip against your guardian--”

“Dad.” Tim interjected.

The man raised an eyebrow but continued, “However you are not a prisoner in the traditional sense. You may wander the compound with one of my men by your side to ensure you do not get into trouble. If all goes well you will be returned to Batman within a reasonable amount of time. Unless, of course, you do decide you would like to stay and learn from me.”

“I don’t really see that happening.” Tim said, “But I'll be sure and let you know if I make a sudden turn towards world domination.”

Again, Tim expected some kind of retaliation, but he was thankfully ignored. Ra’s left him with a warning not to cause undue trouble and soon Tim was alone in the room again.

He spent the next couple days wandering the compound somewhat aimlessly. He had a phone call with Bruce where he promised his dad that he was totally fine if a little bored, and spent the rest of his time trying to avoid Ra’s. The man was kind of relentless in his attempts at winning Tim over to his side and sought him out at meals, when Tim was trying to train a bit at one of the many gyms, and even once while Tim was wandering a rather fantastic garden. Each time, Tim did his best to wiggle out of the man's suggestions and just get back to wiling away the time between then and getting home.

Thankfully, it was all over in four days when Batman came crashing in with Nightwing and Batwoman to rescue him, and soon Tim was home and settling back into normal life.

He’d actually almost forgotten about the whole Ra’s kidnapping him until it happened again. Once had been a surprise, two times was starting to look deliberate.

This one lasted a week with Ra’s claiming it was because he still really wanted that energy deal and he just couldn’t understand why Bruce wasn’t willing to trade that for his ward (son Tim had ground out in irritation).

Tim almost believed him, until he woke one morning to find a pamphlet had been slipped under his door, it was literally a flyer promoting hiring in the League. Tim looked over it and had to laugh out loud. The text was done in a mix of papyrus and other fonts and whoever made it had used clip art. It looked like someone had typed it up in Microsoft word in like half an hour.

He spent the rest of his time there re-designing the flyer, with a ninja hanging over his shoulder as he used one of the League computers. The new one wasn’t the best flyer in the world, but Tim was pretty proud of it, and it was much better than the first draft.

When he was done, he pocketed the original, then pinned a note to the new one that said: Ha! Not until you get better designers.

Batman rescued him again, and Tim pushed the double kidnapping and Ra’s’ weird obsession to the back of his mind until the next time he was with Steph.

They were in the manor watching a Chopped marathon and Tim was telling her about both kidnappings.

“So he’s super into energy? How come he didn’t nab Dick? We all know he’s Bruce’s favorite.” Steph teased, popping a chip into her mouth.

“Setting aside that obvious lie, that’s the thing,” Tim continued, digging out the flyer he’d kept, “It has nothing to do with energy or Dick. I’m pretty sure Ra’s is trying to recruit me.”

He showed her the paper and Steph snorted, spraying chips out as she laughed, “No. Freaking. Way. I have to tell Cass. Let me show her this, please I’m begging you.”

Tim groaned, “Yeah, sure, but don’t you think it’s weird?”

She shrugged, taking the flyer to look it over, “Of course, but the B-man attracts weird like ice cream dropped on the ground attracts ants. Give him six months, and Ra’s will move onto a different way of trying to piss off Batman.”

“I hope so.” Tim said.

The third time Tim woke up in the elaborate room he was getting really sick of the decor and the headache that came with being knocked out and dragged halfway across the world.

“You know.” Tim started, the moment Ra's walked into his room (and it was actually Tim’s room he’d learned from one of the ninja guards), “You could have waited a month this time, to at least pretend this wasn’t all about your super weird plan to try and convince me into letting you adopt me.”

Ra’s opened his mouth to respond, but Tim wasn’t done.

“Which, by the way, I’m taken already. B did the whole adopting thing, so you missed that window. Though, I guess that probably doesn't really matter to you in the grand scheme of things since you keep kidnapping me. You are aware that kidnapping isn’t the best way to convince someone that your way is the right one, right?”

“Also, would it kill you to pick up some --I don’t know-- books on recruitment or something? I don’t understand how you’ve managed to get so many guys on your side it’s--” Tim started, but Ra’s had caught on to Tim’s mood at this point, conceded temporary defeat, and made a hasty retreat.

Tim didn't see him the whole rest of the day, and by the next morning Batman showed up, swinging in for another rescue and all was fine and good and normal for a while.

Until, of course, it wasn’t.

It was the fourth kidnapping that really set Tim off.

He woke up back in that stupid room with it’s stupid decor and those stupid posters ready to burn the place to the ground. But something stopped him, a premonition. Like if he was patient for just a little longer he’d find a good and proper form of revenge to take on Ra’s for his total inability to take a hint.

At some point two ninja came by to take Tim to meet with Ra’s. As they walked Tim couldn’t help but notice the posters literally lining the hallways they walked through.

They were of two wildly different styles, but both struck a thought of familiarity in his mind. One was obviously a play on the classic “I want you in the army” poster. The other ripped off old “pin up” recruitment posters. Both made him laugh, and Tim pulled a couple of each down to save to show the Titans. He had a feeling Bart and Kon would lose their minds over these.

He had just folded them up and shoved them in his back pocket when they reached an office. Inside, Ra’s sat in a chair and motioned Tim to sit in one across from him.

“Thank you for joining me, Timothy.”

Tim sat and shrugged, “Not like I had much of a choice.”

Ra’s waved him off. As he did, a different ninja from either of the ones who’d escorted Tim to the office came in with a tray of tea. He handed Ra’s a cup, then gave one to Tim, and left the set on a table between them.

The whole vibe was kind of awkward and strange. Tim felt very much like he had one time a year ago when he’d realized halfway through a date that things were not going to work out. He hadn’t been able to end the date then and there, and had spent another two hours awkwardly making small talk and trying to avoid promising a second date.

“Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.”

Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

Tim took a sip of his tea in an attempt at avoiding having his mouth drop open in shock. Ra’s sounded like something out of a “Executive success seminar” that was just a veiled multilevel marketing scheme.

“To put it plainly, Timothy, I want you to become my apprentice. I know you and assume you might be hesitant to accept this lifestyle so I’ve prepared for you something of a presentation on what that might entail.”

Tim couldn’t stop a laugh from bursting out of him, but he did manage to turn it into a kind of cough.

“Wait--wait.” he said, almost choking on his tea, “Are you about to show me a powerpoint?”

Ra’s looked a bit put out at that suggestion, almost like he wanted to sigh, “Of course not, it’s more interactive than that.”

Tim held up his free hand, incredulous, “Is this--a job interview Ra’s? I thought you were pitching this to me.”

“No, no. It’s an interactive presentation designed to show you just what you have to gain from joining me.” Ra’s explained, as he did so Tim took another sip of his tea.

He lifted his cup and waved it lightly, “Oh yeah, so I’m just in one of those fairy tales then where you make me do three impossible tasks and at the end I get the happily ever after dip in the lazarus pit?”

“It’s only one trial--”

“So it is a task!” Tim declared, almost standing.

“Timothy.” Ra’s snapped, sounding a bit like Bruce whenever Tim and Steph’s antics pushed him a bit too far.

Tim crossed his legs and leaned back into the chair, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Irritating the man was a bad idea, Tim knew that, but this was just ridiculous. He wasn’t going to be sent on a wild quest that might end up with him dunked in a Lazarus Pit or whatever else Ra’s had in mind that would supposedly prove how great it would be to work for him.

“If you are not going to take this seriously, then there are other ways of showing you why joining me is a good idea that are not nearly as pleasant.” Ra’s growled.

Tim held up his free hand, “I’d rather not find out, give me your pitch or send me off with your best ninja or whatever you were planning.”

He figured playing along would work for now. He could put off giving Ra’s an answer until Bruce came in for a third rescue. When he was home, they were going to have a serious conversation about ninja proofing the manor. Ra’s could not keep kidnapping him like this, they had to have some kind of security measures in place.

“Wonderful. I’m sure after your tour you’ll have a better understanding of what I have to offer you.”

Tim ended up following someone Ra’s called his “best general” around the compound for an hour. The guy showed Tim the training rooms, the medical suite, sparring rings, a variety of ninja’s actually practicing, and at one point they even ended up in the library. The general had been given instructions to pause anywhere Tim wanted him to, and so they lingered in the library for a bit.

He had to admit, Ra’s had a fantastic library.

The general didn’t seem worried about Tim getting lost, or escaping, and waited by the door while he wandered the massive room.

And boy was it huge. It was bigger than the main floor of the cave, with stacks and stacks of books on two floors. Some of the volumes looked ancient, and there were even scrolls shelved on the second floor.

He gingerly pulled one out to examine.

“That is worth more than you could ever imagine.” a sharp, young voice, declared, behind him.

Startled, Tim dropped it back onto the shelf and spun. Before him stood a kid, probably 8 years old, with tousled dark hair, dark skin, and a face that almost echoed some of Bruce’s school photos. It was startling.

“Hi.” Tim said, dumbly, “I know, it’s Ancient Sumarian right?”

“Tt.” the boy crossed his arms, “You are not an idiot then.”

Tim shook his head, “Nah, apparently I’m smart enough to be selected for recruitment.”

The kid nodded, “So you are Grandfather’s young detective. He speaks highly of you.”

Grandfather? Tim’s brain spun. This kid was Ra’s al Ghul’s grandkid? He ran the numbers, the kid’s mom was either Talia or Nyssa. If he had to put money on it, Tim figured the boy before him looked more like Talia than her sister. And his other features--like Bruce’s?

No.

No. Freaking. Way.

“That is hardly language to use here.” The boy said, arching an eyebrow at him.

Tim hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, but apparently his surprise had been so great he had. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, I just never expected Ra’s to have a grandkid.”

“It is not surprising to me, I am his heir. Born to inherit the League and rule the world one day.”

Okay, that was a lot to unpack. Just a totally wild amount, but Tim wasn’t super focused on the world domination thing just yet (maybe later when he had a chance to process all of--well, all of it), “Sorry to keep pressing but, doesn’t having an heir kind of--I don’t know, put his whole Eternal Ruler of the League thing in jeopardy?”

“Tt. It is not my place to question my Grandfather’s plans. I simply know what I have been told, that I will inherit the League one day in his stead.”

“Well,” Tim rocked back on his heels casually and grinned, “That might be a long loooong time.”

The kid’s brows furrowed as if he had not really considered that idea before. He opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to decide against it, dropping his arms to his sides to shrug, “If that is his wish then so be it.”

“True.” Tim said, not really knowing what to say. Instead he settled on changing the subject, “You know, if your grandfather gets his way I’ll be spending more time here, so I guess introductions are in order. I’m Timothy Drake-Wayne, but most people just call me Tim.”

He held his hand out to the kid, smiling at him. If he really was Bruce’s then they’d be getting to know each other for sure. Just not here. Tim had zero intentions on letting Bruce’s child stay with the League. Did B he even know he had a kid? Tim thought he’d better figure that out first before kidnapping his little brother.

Little brother. Just that idea made something flutter in Tim’s chest. He’d always wanted a little brother.

The boy scowled at his hand, and did not take it, “You may be correct, even if I do not see what Grandfather seems to. I am Damian al Ghul, heir to the Demon’s Head.”

Tim bit back a grin at just how serious this kid was. He sounded like a little prince, all imperious and haughty. Damian, even his name fit him. He wondered how Damian would do around Dick? Or Stephanie. They’d figure out how to bring a smile out of him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Damian.” Tim said, “I know we’ve really only just met, but I’m sure you’ll see what Ra’s does in time.”

Damian looked him over again, then gave a sharp nod, “I am interested in seeing what you have to offer.”

“Damian, I found it, where’d you go?” A voice sounded from deeper within the stacks.

Tim started at the sound of the voice. He knew it. Knew it from nights spent chasing shadows, from recording’s Bruce had watched a hundred times when he didn’t think Tim was watching. From Tim’s own desire to know and learn more about his predecessor. It was Jason Todd’s voice.

But that couldn’t be. Jason was dead.

“I am coming.” Damian returned, his tone more childlike than Tim had heard in their whole conversation. He turned back to Tim, “Do not ruin that scroll, I will see you later.”

Then he spun on his heel and walked away.

Tim stepped forward, reaching out for the kid, “Wai--”

“Master Tim, we really must be going.” Tim’s guide was back, stepping into his view as if from nowhere, and stopping Tim’s chase as short as it had been.

“Can we wait just one more second?” he asked, “I wanted to ask Damian something else.”

The man’s mouth turned down in a frown, “I do not have clearance to let you speak with Master Damian. Come, we have more to see.”

Frustration bubbled up in Tim, but unless he wanted to start a fight he wasn’t going to get a chance to talk to Damian right then. The kid had promised to see him later, so maybe he’d seek Tim out. If not, Tim would find a way.

As he followed the man out of the library, he kept searching the stacks of books for a sign of the others. It wasn’t until they’d left the room that Tim caught sight of Damian again, his small form waving animated at a taller, broader one. One that, while older, was unmistakably Jason.

Before Tim could say screw everything, the two turned around a corner, and someone else was clearing their throat. His guide seemed eager to move on, and so they did.

Tim tuned out most of the rest of the tour, and eventually found himself back in the office from before, once again seated across from Ra’s.

“Timothy, I hear you have met my grandson on your tour.” Ra’s started.

“I did.” Tim said, a bit hesitant to go into detail, his guide had seemed like talking to Damian was a pretty serious thing, and suddenly Tim was afraid he’d gotten the kid in trouble.

Ra’s smiled, “He is magnificent is he not? Already he is a skilled warrior, and well trained in his studies.”

“He said he was your heir?” Tim ventured.

The man waved a hand dismissively, “Of course he is, he is my grandson, but that does not mean he will inherit. The boy is valuable to me, for many reasons. He is an excellent tool to wield against my enemies already, and will only become more so as he grows.”

Anger bubbled up in Tim. There was something in Ra’s’ tone that made Tim sick, to call a kid a tool. To plan to just use him his whole life?

“And what, do you want to do that with me too? You said you wanted me to be your apprentice, but if your Heir is just a tool then--”

“No, as I said I want you to take over a branch of the League. You have talents and skills Damian will not. The boy is--” Ra’s shrugged, “Let us call him a vessel. A shell for me to wield in one way or another.”

Well, that just made Tim even more angry. Damian was his grandkid. What Tim wouldn't have given to still have his grandparents, and for Ra’s to just--If Tim wasn’t already dead set on getting Damian home, he would be after this conversation.

“You know what, Ra’s. Let me think on it a while. I’ll get back to you on my answer. I kind of want to see Damian in action a bit, learn what this training looks like in someone closer to my age.”

The man considered this for a moment before nodding, “I will let you watch his sparring session tomorrow. For now, I think we’re done. Have a good evening, Timothy.”

Tim nodded, and left. His mind was racing, he wanted another look at Jason. Wanted to tell Damian about his dad. Wanted to make sure both his brothers were okay.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he missed the black and blue clad arm that reached out from behind a curtain and yanked him back. Nightwing put a hand over Tim’s mouth to quiet him, and then pulled him out the window the curtain had been hiding. They dropped, into nothing--except it was solid?

Tim found himself inside the invisible jet. Inside, and flying away from his newly discovered siblings before he could even argue they needed to be rescued too.

One flight with Wonder Woman and Nightwing later, and Tim was home again, being told in stern tones by both Batman and Nightwing that he really needed to stop allowing himself to be kidnapped by ninjas (like he didn’t know that).

Then he was in his room, in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind whirring. He had learned two things on this trip. Two impossible things. Two things he was going to leverage as soon as he could.

It was late, and he should be sleeping, but instead he texted Steph and Cass in their little group chat.

Tim: Want to cause some chaos?

Immediately he received a response:

Steph: Always

Cass: Who are we going after?

Tim smiled, his fingers dancing over his phone:

Tim: Ra’s.

Cass: Time to teach him a lesson?

Steph: I've been waiting for this, I’ll get the kerosene

Tim: There’s more.

Cass: Tell.

The light flashed on out in the hallway, Tim could see it flicker to life under his door.

Tim: Tomorrow, lunch at that place with the sweet potato fries. Come ready to plan a kidnapping or two.

The next day Tim found both Steph and Cass waiting eagerly for him at the restaurant, a heaping plate of sweet potato fries between them.

“Spill, Bird Brain.” Stephanie said, as he sat down, pushing some fries towards him, “I want to hear everything about this crusade against Ra’s.”

Tim rolled his eyes, and snagged a fry, dipping it in one of the sauces they’d gotten to accompany it.

“As you’ve probably already guessed, I had another visit to the League compound yesterday.” Tim started, “It was more of a day trip this time, but Ra’s did his very best to sell me on signing up.”

“More posters?” Cass guessed, then shook her head seeing Tim’s expression, “What did he do?”

Tim snagged another fry, “Yes more posters, but more than that he gave me a speech right out of a How to Recruit for Dummies book, then sent me on a tour of the building.”

Steph snorted, “Please tell me you recorded it.”

“I did not, but you will never believe what I found on my tour, or to be precise who.”

Both girls paused their snacking, waiting on him to continue.

Tim dropped the first bomb, “Jason Todd, alive and breathing.”

“What, no way.” Steph said, “How’d he even get there? I thought He was buried here?”

He shrugged, “I don’t have any of the details, but they’ve got a Lazarus pit, and Ra’s is weirdly obsessed with recruiting Robin’s, so I’d say his resurrection tracks.”

“Who else was there?” Cass asked, brow furrowed.

Now this he knew neither of them would be expecting. Tim hadn’t expected it. He still couldn’t believe it.

“Ra’s al Ghul’s grandson, Damian.” Tim said, watched both girls look even more confused, then added, “The son of Bruce and Talia. At least, I’m pretty sure he’s their kid.”

The fry Stephanie was holding dropped out of her hand.

Tim watched Cass processing the information, saw her realization that there was another child being raised in the League, then saw the determination cross her face at her own personal decision.

“We are taking them both, correct?” Cass asked.

“We’re taking them both, and burning the place down.” Tim confirmed, “That should properly pay him back for all the time’s he’s kidnapped me this year.”

Steph’s lips turned up into a sharp grin, “The law of equivalent exchange.”

Tim laughed, “You’ve been watching too much tv.”

“It’s prepped me for this very moment.” she shot back, voice falsely grave.

“Batman prepared you for this very moment.” Cass elbowed her.

“No.” Tim said, “I’m going to prep you. And then we’re going to put everything in action.”

They talked, and planned, and debated the pros and cons of letting Tim get nabbed again over just going himself, and eventually after many many sweet potato fries and sodas they were ready.

It was to be infiltration first, fire and kerosene second. Obviously the place was going to go up, but only after they set the stage for rebellion and convinced Damian and Jason to go home with them. Tim didn’t think it’d be a hard sell for Jason, but the kid was another matter altogether. If Tim couldn’t convince him to come along, they may actually end up having to kidnap Damian.

A key to the plan was that only Tim, Steph, and Cass were in on it. There was no way Bruce was giving the green light for such a thing. Besides, Tim wanted to see his face when they presented him with not one, but two, rescued sons from the League.

Over the next week Tim made himself the most kidnappable he’d ever been. He wandered outside, kept to himself, and tried to look as wide eyed as possible. He lingered in parking lots, and took shortcuts down empty alleyways. Basically, he did everything he could to signal he was alone and vulnerable besides hanging a sign around his neck that said “Take me to your (ninja) leader”.

At one point he even stopped, dead center in the middle of an alley and declared, “Wow this sure is a dangerous place to be! I hope I don’t get attacked and kidnapped by ninjas!”

The only response he got that time was from an older woman who stopped at the edge of the alley and very seriously called out, “Careful, young man. Don’t you know there are killer clowns out? You best be on your way before you get hurt.”

Then, at long last, Tim caught sight of one of the League members ducking behind a shadow. He paused his walk, and leaned over as if fascinated by something on the sidewalk in front of him. By the time he’d stood, the ninja was in front of him.

Tim held up his hands in surrender, doing his best not to actually look excited. Then, he was successfully kidnapped for the fifth --and if Tim’s plan worked successfully-- final time.

#Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Stephanie Brown #Cassandra Cain #Batfamily #fanfiction #crack #crack treated seriously #multimedia fic #humor #kidnapping attempts #revenge plots #Ra's tries to recruit tim #Spoilers it backfires #what is canon #precious posts #long post #chapter 1

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finitevariety · 2 years

Note

sup this is me off anon (pirouettes) thank you so much for the reply!! and the snippets slash drafts especially were very yummy. its cool how seeing how like, rigorous the process is because it definitely feels super controlled while writing. and you want to talk more about your specific writing style that would be cool as fuck!! the two things that jump most at me when I read your fics were 1) dialogue and 2) the metaphors. how does all of that get formed?

hiiii

thank you! I feel like my writing process is less rigorous than the only way that I can get to a finished product. I have to sit and think for ages before things even begin to come together.

re: writing style, here are some rambling thoughts (and more screenshots lol):

It's so interesting to hear you pick out dialogue because I think particularly for fic I've been lucky--for example, I once got a comment that complimented me on using particularly Minnesotan phrasing for a Tom thing, when in fact it was a stray turn of phrase from my home country/area which happened to overlap with Minnesotan speech patterns.

Like I said earlier, dialogue is something that tends to come pretty quickly in the drafting process! Like, I just got through the first section of a chapter that was killing me because I wanted to show Tom thinking about shit without him really knowing what he was thinking about, so I had to meander around what he's doing, seeing, remembering, etc. instead of actually talking to anyone in the present. With dialogue scenes (including sex scenes, which for me are fairly dialogue-rich) it's so much easier to communicate someone's thoughts because they are also communicating.

For example, this is from a doc that is probably the next thing I want to write after bold and forth on (after a break for writing some original stuff for fun). I haven't touched it since I did my original 'stream of consciousness' plotting, but I bet when I write this in full the finished speech will be very similar to this:

Looking at it now, I can see some parts which are lazy--the 'paid a damn sight better' part is maybe something Tom would say, but there are things Tom could say here which feel more Tom--'you wouldn't be earning fucking Buffalo bucks, there'--and also reveal more about him and Greg--'maybe you could pay for your own fucking meal once in a while, you know? Stop gagging on gazpacho on my dime' (Greg: 'I thought it was a shot!').

I also, like I mentioned before, frequently read bits aloud. This is probably The Autism, but I like hearing words aloud and in a nice combination/rhythm, and creating something I enjoy is always the priority.

Sorry for the sidebar here, but it feels related: there's a lot in my writing that I'm surprised isn't offputting to more people, and as gratified as I am, I would keep writing it even if that weren't the case. Don't get me wrong, I'm a slut for external validation, but this is my sandbox and I'll piss in it if I want to.

Anyway, back to dialogue: I think for Succession I try to remember that whilst these people don't talk like real people there are a lot of hallmarks of real speech--lots of crosstalk and interruption, uhs and ums and uh-huhs, and certain specific fillers such as, for Tom, 'you know'. So, no matter what insane shit they're saying, I try to ground it in a little of that.

On insane shit, though: I have to chalk the imagery up to the way my brain works, which feels like a copout. I guess though the main questions I ask when writing/refining images are:

What would this scene look like if it were storyboarded? What do I want people to catch in the background? What do I want tight focus on? If the audience blurs their focus, what might the scene remind them of?

What would this character know about? What are they preoccupied with? It's important imo to make an image something that a character would conceivably think. So Tom is very fun to write because I feel like his brain follows the same grain as mine. This is not a compliment. Many of the images I use for him, especially for feelings shit, are rooted in flesh and violence because he is a character for whom self-knowledge is torture.

Can I push this further? Hey, what if I google around this to see if there's anything else I can fold in? For example, if I'm comparing something to a bug, I'm gonna find out about bugs first to see if there's a gross little detail I can shove in there. This connects back to the part above where I pointed out the 'damn sight better' opportunity. If I'm using an image, I want to avoid it feeling like boilerplate, you know?

Then, finally:

What can I get rid of? What does this image add? Are there explanatory phrases around the image that I can delete? If I'm asking you to come with me for 100k of nonsense, the least I can do is try to cut down on unnecessary bullshit.

Thank you so much for the ask and for the compliments. <3

#drtechmaturgics #long post #ask box #haarping on #bfo deez nuts #also i'd hope this goes w/o saying but i am wholly unqualified to give advice and this is just...how i write

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wonunuu · 3 years

Text

retrouvailles ❦ s2

thirty five:

note: read tweets starting from the bottom

wc: 820+

"Mama, look!" Yeojin proudly shows you her masterpiece, as she calls it. For the past ten minutes, she has been sitting on the floor, concentrating to build the little lego set that Jeonghan had gifted her for her birthday. She picked the little pieces from the floor and carefully stuck them one by one, just as Jeonghan had instructed her to do. You told Jeonghan that it might be a little early for legos, but the boy was persistent and wanted Yeojin to develop a love for legos as he does. His gift, which was supposed to be a toy car, ended up looking like a block with wheels. The girl just turned two. How did he expect her to build a whole lego set on her own?

"Hi, love," Wonwoo gets on his knees and widely opens his arms to greet Yeojin. She runs into him, and he picks her up. "Daddy, look!"

"Did you make a prism with wheels?" Wonwoo asks, inspecting her creation. She laughs. "No! It's a car!"

"I was kidding. I totally knew that it's a car!" Wonwoo tries to save himself from a crying Yeojin. She's like that; if you don't agree with her, expect a tantrum on the way. She wiggles out of her father's grip, telling him she wants to be put down.

"That did not look like a car," Wonwoo reveals his honest opinion once Yeojin was out of sight. He puts his arm around you as you both walk to the living room. "What did you want to say?" You inquire, intertwining your fingers. You feel him halt in his steps, so you do too. Turning around to face him, you can tell that whatever he's going to say was not going to be good.

"I'm going to serve in the military. I'm leaving next month." He finally breaks the news.

Once again, you could feel your heart shattering into millions of pieces. You couldn't believe it. You felt angry at Wonwoo. Angry at the fact that he made that decision without consulting with you first.

But your anger was inundated with sadness. Just as you have finished your fight with Plsdie, and everything was going back to where it should be, he leaves again. Couldn't he wait a few more years to complete his service? Why now?

Tears begin to pool in your eyes, and once that first teat broke free, the rest followed in a continuous stream.

Wonwoo steps closer and wraps his arms around your frail figure. He whispers numerous apologies as he rubs your back.

"Why now W-Wonwoo? Y-you still have time! Why are you rushing to do it?" You cry out in between your sobs, "we were finally going to be together as a family.

As you wept in his hold, Wonwoo tried his best to conceal his own emotions. He knew he needed to be the strong one at the moment; the one who needed to comfort the weaker one.

------------------------------------------------------------

Five minutes have passed since Wonwoo told you the news and five minutes since you were crying. Steadying yourself, you inhale a deep breath.

"Why did you make that decision on your own?" You ask. He holds your hands, "I wanted to do it so I could get it over with. Besides, it's just going to be for two years. It will be over before you even know it."

"What about Yeo-yeo and I?"

"The military isn't as strict as it used to be, you know?" he softly pats your head, but you move closer, leaning on his side. He binds his arms around you. "We're allowed to have our phones in the camps. Visits from family during weekends is also permitted." He reassures. You release a deep sigh knowing you can't really do anything about it as he already sent his drafting request. You also understood his point of "getting it over with". He will need to do it eventually so he thought doing it now might be better.

"You're gonna miss another two years of Yeojin's growth," you say, looking up to meet his eyes.

"No, not really." He rebuts, "You see, I've already mentioned that visitations are allowed on weekends. So if you come on both days, not missing a week, I will see Yeojin 208 days in those two years. So I'm technically not going to miss two years of her life; just 508 days I won't be with her. I did the calculation. So I'll still see her, and you." You chuckle at your boyfriend as he proudly explains his thinking.

You're definitely going to miss him.

💌 reunion (eng) - the happiness of seeing someone again after a long time.

⤷ happiness? are reunions always happy though? when you are reunited with someone you want to see the least, does it make you happy?

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last chapter before the epilogue 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 thank you thank you thank you for everyone who have showed their continuous support and love for this au!! your constant love really gave me the motivation to write 😤😤 hopefully,, you all enjoyed it retrouvailles *biggest love slap* MUAH ❤️❤️❤️❤️🥺🥺

tags:

@dy-mglzz @joeycheungg @jeonflo @top-crop @peachyprincessminki @fluffyhyeju @yaebbinnie @muhanuibean @suhfluffy @ryuyalana @tearspace @noniesgirl @sunshineshouchan @flower0930 @hannahdinse8 @hoerangdan @mrsmoonjeon @samemagicpoint @itsdnguyenxoxo @winternight-wonwoo @mingyuahjumma @pseudoyop @the1921-monsters @jeonjungkaka @wuriwoori @euphorencia @monstathedisco @1800zuho @taeyeon-got-shmoney @glouraeswei @shuajeong @wonhaotrsh @pooofthechicken @cheolright @shuangel

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(click here to add ur @ on the list, or ask/dm!)

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen texts #svt #seventeen imagines #seventeen social media au #svt au #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt texts #svt wonwoo #wonwoo au #svt sns au

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masterwords · 3 years

Text

My Cup is Empty (PART FOUR)

Notes: Okay. First? I'M SO SORRY. This has been sitting in my drafts for months just...stewing. And it isn't getting any better and I don't know why I would expect it to? So...anyone who actually read this and was like, waiting for me to finish? I offer my humble apology and hope that this is a sufficient ending. I feel like it's just...not. It goes where I wanted it to go but the right words just kept escaping me. I can't apologize enough for taking so long without an update. (Yeah, I'm posting this at a weird time that no one will really ever see it anyway...I just..don't know what I'm doing right now. Meltdown.)

If you are new here and haven't read any of this (not surprising because it's taken me so damn long to update) I have linked the first three chapters for you. Also, for those of you who have forgotten this existed because it took so long... :)

Warnings: Anxiety, depression, PTSD, migraine, swearing

Word Count: 3279

Previously On: PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE

Brother, my cup is empty

And I haven't got a penny

For to buy no more whiskey

I have to go home

Walking back to the BAU, Derek and Aaron spoke in hushed tones about Gideon, how he looked, what he sounded like, what they thought. Spencer had decided to stay behind, he'd missed his mentor and though he had work to attend to, Aaron couldn't find it in him to pull the younger man away. He needed some time alone with Derek, anyway.

“Why'd you lie?” Derek asked finally, rounding the corner. He'd been sitting on it, searching for the right time, but there was no right time to accuse someone of lying. Aaron clenched his jaw tight.

“What good would it do him to know the truth?” he asked, stopping suddenly in his tracks. Derek paused and turned, stepping closer to Aaron until the space between them felt electrified. The buildings loomed high overhead, pigeons bouncing through the scraps of people's lunch at their feet.

“It's just not right, this is his team,” was Derek's cool reply and Aaron shrugged.

“In his absence, this is my team, and I didn't think it prudent to give him information he can't do anything with. Telling him we're struggling, that I'm struggling, isn't going to make him come back any faster and on the off chance it did...would he really be ready, or would he just be doing it out of guilt? It was my call, and I decided it was better if we just let it be.”

Derek regarded the answer briefly before accepting the logic, his reasoning as tactical and not simply deceptive or a selfish way to ensure no one thought he was weak, that he couldn't handle the job. While they stood, Aaron reached into his pocket and pulled out his sunglasses, sliding them on before they began walking again, this time in thoughtful silence. Each of them had things to say and neither quite knew how to say them.

“How's your head?” Derek asked, finally, holding the door open for his friend. Aaron looked down at his feet as he entered, slowing so Derek could catch up after letting other employees enter while he held the door.

“It's fine,” he said, and Derek just rolled his eyes, called him a liar and smiled. He didn't mind when Aaron lied about stupid things like that, things he could see plain as day, he could understand the need for self-preservation, at least between them. “It's been worse,” he rectified, after a moment. “I'll manage.”

“Or maybe you'll die,” Derek joked, pressing the elevator button, and Aaron smiled then. It was easy to smile with Derek.

“I should be so fortunate.”

Back at his office door, he felt an icy chill trickle down his spine – the door was closed, and he didn't remember doing it. He'd blacked out more than once over the last few days, but he was feeling relatively normal that day and knew he'd left his office open so JJ and Penelope could come and go as necessary while he was gone. He put his hand on the knob and slowly opened the door, peering through the slit to see Chief Strauss' figure seated beside his desk, talking with someone.

“Come in, Aaron,” she said, as if she were the welcoming committee for his own office. He opened the door the rest of the way with some hesitation to reveal Dave seated on the other side of the room, his jacket draped over his lap and briefcase at his feet. He removed his sunglasses, slipped them back into his pocket and blinked a few times to accustom himself to the blessed low light of the room. “Have a seat.”

He scoffed. He hadn't meant to, it just slipped out – the audacity of her telling him to have a seat in his own office was almost too much, even for him and his otherworldly patience. “May I ask why you're in my office?”

“Agent Rossi here,” she began, indicating Dave as if Aaron didn't know who he was. As if they hadn't worked together for years, become close friends, as if he hadn't shed a tear when Dave told him he was going to retire. Before she could continue, Dave cut her off and Aaron couldn't have been happier.

“I talked to Jason this morning, after our little...chat...the other night. I told him he needs to make a decision, he can't keep tiptoeing around the issue – is he coming back or not?”

Aaron sat down heavily in his seat, his stomach swirling viciously. “I just had lunch with him, he didn't mention anything.”

“He asked us to speak to you about it first, didn't want to say anything in front of Agents Morgan and Reid,” Strauss chimed in, forcing a small smile. “He says he'll be ready to come back soon, but he was very specific about one thing – he'll no longer serve as the Unit Chief. He would like you to take on that role permanently, with him serving as your lead.”

Aaron thought he might pass out. His head spun and he blinked a few times, tried to keep his features steady and calm but he thought he detected a shift in Dave's demeanor. He'd noticed. Dave always noticed. Aaron cleared his throat. “As of right now, if you accept, this is your department Agent Hotchner. Agent Gideon has not been cleared for field work yet but he is looking forward to it, and per your numerous requests we have submitted a requisition to the Director for at least one more Agent for the BAU, I'll keep you abreast of any developments. You're doing a great job, Aaron.” She paused there, softened her tone, hoped it sunk in. Somehow she didn't think he was really hearing her. “You may not feel that way right now, but there are a lot of very important people who have taken great interest in the things you're doing here.”

“Excuse me, I'm sorry to intrude,” JJ said, poking her head into Aaron's office sheepishly. She looked directly at him, avoiding the other two. “We have a case, an Amber Alert. We have to go.” Aaron nodded as she turned and scurried down the hall to collect the rest of the team, and he watched as Dave and Strauss left his office chatting, paying him no more mind. He felt sick, had no business flying, and yet he grabbed his bag from beneath his desk and locked up his office. What else was he supposed to do but go? The walk to the round table room wasn't far away and yet it felt like miles on legs about to buckle, still reeling from a promotion that didn't feel like much of a victory. It felt like a death sentence.

“Garcia, I hope you have a go bag, we're short-handed and are going to need you to come with us,” he muttered, glancing through the file JJ had handed them briefly, just enough to scan for details that told him this would have been a challenge even with a full team of seasoned profilers instead of a rag tag group of barely profilers. “The jet is ready to go.”

The ride on the jet didn't feel too long, they had so much to do to prepare for their arrival. Aaron sought a lull in conversation, some good opportunity to share with the team, his team, what had just happened but one never seemed to open up. He wasn't even sure how to approach it, if they'd be glad or if he'd find that they were ready to resign already and this was enough to send them over the edge. It was a distinct possibility that none of them wanted to work under him, one he thought reasonable. He was a stickler, hard nosed and quiet – there had been times he'd goofed around but it had been a while, and only Derek really knew that side of him. He thought about pulling Derek aside, just saying something to him first, like he owed the other man that much – but when? They landed in Florida without him saying a word and the case, thankfully, progressed quickly because of how much they'd been able to take care of en route.

The arguing started in the SUV, Aaron and Derek evenly matched in a spiteful back and forth over whose takedown plans were better. They'd been at eachother's throats for two days, almost no sleep between them. By the time they were at the house, Aaron had all but asserted the authority no one knew he had. He threw the SUV into park, jolting the passengers in the vehicle roughly, and leaped out. He turned to look back at Derek and Spencer, glancing at JJ only a moment before once again ordering them to stay back, to wait for backup. Derek huffed and stormed around the SUV angrily, refusing to watch Aaron enter the house by himself. They heard gunshots first, and without thinking Derek ran toward the house, listening to JJ and Spencer call for him, shouting to wait for backup but he wasn't going to do that, not when Aaron was inside and there were shots fired.

It had been a trap, he realized as soon as he walked in to utter silence. With a crack, he was knocked to the ground and drug to the basement, tossed down the stairs like a rag doll. It was a blitz attack, he hadn't seen it coming, and at the bottom of the stairs he saw Aaron lying motionless, his vest gone. There was no blood, he realized as the door slammed shut and locked at the top of the stairs. They were alone in the dark, and carefully, running his hands along the floor he crawled to where Aaron lay, careful hands running along the base of his spine, up toward his head until he heard his friend moan and try to roll over.

“Morgan?” Aaron rasped, and Derek nodded, as if Aaron could see him in the dark. He groaned as he helped Aaron move, roll over and sit up. They leaned against the cement wall, cold as ice against their backs and listened to their own ragged breathing echoing through the mildewy basement.

“You were supposed to wait...” Aaron hissed, and Derek let out an incredulous laugh. “Did backup come?”

“They're on their way,” was Derek's reply and his tone was clipped. “I heard gunshots, Hotch, what did you want me to do?”

“Wait for backup.”

“A couple of weeks as our interim Unit Chief and suddenly you're all about barking those orders...” his tone was mocking, irritated and Hotch squirmed where he sat on the floor. His back hurt, from his hips to his shoulder blades. It felt stiff, soft tissue bruised and tender where he leaned against the cement.

“Morgan, it isn't interim,” he muttered, struggling to stay sitting up straight. His vision swam and he shut his eyes, pressing his hand to the back of his head gingerly. Blood, sticky and black against his skin covered his fingers when he pulled them away from his matted hair. He grunted and, pulling his knees to his chest (a mistake, he soon realized, as his back protested the movement) he hung his head limp between them and took a few deep breaths to quell the rising nausea. “Gideon resigned as Unit Chief effective immediately. When he comes back he'll still be in a team lead role but...this is my team now.”

“What the fuck? When were you gonna say something?”

“Well,” Aaron grunted, letting loose a sardonic chuckle. “Ideally I wouldn't have chosen this moment but you backed me into a corner here.”

Derek sat in silence, rubbing at a growing pain in his shoulder. “So that's it then?”

The conversation was over as quickly as it had begun. Aaron opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the doors to the basement flying open, pools of sickly yellow light flooding the staircase, illuminating Spencer and JJ on their way down, guns raised before them.

“Both of you?” Spencer asked, rushing over to Hotch while JJ helped Derek to his feet. “BOTH of you? They got both of you.”

“Yeah, yeah kid...” Morgan groaned, hugging his arms around his aching chest. He knew he had at least one broken rib, breathing was torture. He'd never been thrown down a flight of stairs before and he was sure he never wanted to experience it again. “We get it.”

“Oh, you get it? Good. I'm glad. Because...” Spencer was irate, his voice had raised several octaves in his anger and he didn't even care that he was speaking to not one, but two superiors in that tone. They couldn't blame him.

“Reid, please,” Aaron begged, sagging against the wall. “Save it for the jet. Let me have it then, ok?”

“You both need to be checked out,” JJ insisted, and she walked away as soon as both of them, in unison, protested. She paid it no mind, walking up the stairs with a sly little grin, Spencer following behind her still muttering to himself. Aaron and Derek looked at each other for a moment, and then at the stairs that looked nearly impossible to both of them in their condition. They argued briefly over who would go up first until finally Derek began, Aaron right behind him, both leaning heavily against the railing and hoping against hope that its rotten, rickety wood didn't give out under their weight.

On the jet, Aaron found his way to the back and leaned against the wall, glad that his new headache was just sheer pain without all of the side effects of the migraine. It was just pure agony pouring out from the back of his head and down his neck, spreading through his shoulders. At least his back felt better cradled by the soft cushion, he could relax and give his muscles a break. He watched as everyone else made their way to seats, scattered throughout, no one close enough to talk without yelling. The case had been hard on everyone, and he was sure by the way everyone glanced at him that Derek had shared his news – he didn't mind that part, he hadn't wanted to say anything anyway. It didn't feel good and it didn't feel real, this wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be able to go home to Haley and tell her the good news, celebrate even, but it didn't feel like anything to celebrate. How could he celebrate a promotion that came as a direct result of his friend and mentor having a breakdown? He was ambitious but he wasn't cruel, would have followed Gideon to the ends of the earth even without the hope of promotion. He felt sick and he was sure it had nothing to do with the pounding in his head.

“This seat taken?” Derek asked as he eased himself into the chair beside Aaron, stifling a groan when he felt the distinct grind of a broken rib at just the wrong movement. Aaron didn't answer, just watched him try to settle himself until he was comfortable. With some considerable effort, he leaned to the side and let his head rest against Aaron's shoulder, sighing. He had this way about him, this easy way of cooling off, letting things go. Aaron couldn't do it, but he envied it. “Don't shut me out.”

“I'm not,” Aaron began to protest, but he knew it wasn't true, so he stopped. He wouldn't lie to Derek, not now, and he hoped not ever. “I don't mean to.”

Silence fell over them as they sat, impossibly close, both considering the ways they'd failed that day. They'd almost blown the entire case bickering, ignoring warnings, they let their team down and if not for JJ and Spencer, more innocent people would have died. The weight of it sat on their shoulders, pressed them together, bled them dry.

“So things are changing. You're gonna be a helluva Unit Chief, Hotch...just don't forget we're a team. The five of us.”

Aaron nodded, he understood what Derek said and what he didn't say. What he didn't say was more important, hit him square in the chest, knocked the wind out of him. He didn't reply, but Derek knew what he was thinking and in the silence they came to an understanding – things were changing, but not yet. Not right this minute. They had a few hours left before reality sunk in, so Derek put his headphones on and closed his eyes while Aaron pressed in, head resting against Derek's now, and shut his eyes, listening to the beat of whatever it was Derek was playing. It didn't matter what it was. He had no idea and he preferred it that way, it was the rhythm that lulled him into a light sleep. They both knew it might be the last time they felt this comfortable, this close.

Walking in the door, he could feel life in the house again. He'd seen Haley's car, knew she was there, and there were lights on leading him up the stairs. She was in bed, not sleeping, just waiting for him. He walked slowly, his back stiff and painful, preparing himself for bed as well as his aching body would let him. A handful of ibuprofen, a glass of water and a good night's sleep. If he got all three he'd be golden, but he would settle for the first two.

“What happened?” she asked, and he whispered that he didn't want to talk about it, not tonight, he just wanted to lay beside her, they could talk in the morning. When morning came, she was pleased to find out that they were given the next two days off to recuperate from the case. They climbed out of bed slowly, late in the morning and ate breakfast together, talked about the case, about his promotion, about baby names, and he put all of her upcoming appointments into his calendar. He said he would try harder to make it to them and apologized so often that by the time he returned to work she felt hopeful and he was feeling less dread. They were smiling again.

He and Derek tried to patch things up, but there was tension there where it hadn't existed before, walls where there had been open fields. He began pushing Derek and Spencer together more, partnering them up until he'd removed himself almost entirely from the equation, quietly mourning the loss of his friendship in the privacy of his office. There were times he found himself glancing out the window, watching as Derek and Spencer joked and laughed and he wondered at the time that had passed since it had been he and Derek while the others sat up here and watched. Desks butted up next to one another, silly post-it notes and shared glances. It was a time that felt like it would stretch on forever, just he and Derek following Gideon all over the country, wherever the monsters drug them. All in the past now. There was a natural progression to these things, a momentum that he had no control over, and this was what he wanted. Strauss had said it, and while it had haunted him for weeks now, it was no longer a crushing weight. It may not have looked the way he'd thought, but by the time they were given the case in Seattle and told that it was time to pull Gideon back into the field, he was ready and he was sure.

This was his team.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #spencer reid #jason gideon #jennifer jj jareau

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years

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okay it's getting late and i'm only just finished with chapter 6- but quil best writer award when???

seriously though i haven't been invested in kotlc in a short while because of other stuff and the lack of new official content, but dang- this is really good- it's like a full book! like full- with the storyline, and the wording, and the development! i checked the wordcount before i started reading- and quil... you WROTE A WHOLE BOOK?! you're still writing a book!

I just- wow!

anyways i'll be back to finish this in the next few days, but i'm super excited to catch up and i'm super excited for dragon wings marella lol

i think you should know that every time I answer one of these I have to pull up the chapter you're talking about in a different tab because i never remember what happens in each one. You probably know what happens in the first chapters better than I do tbh, which I think is hilarious. but back to what you're saying

"quil best writer award when." I'm. I am floored. I am speechless. I am so flattered. this is such high praise!! i am just a funky little guy writing some funky little words!! I feel I must confess this: I actually hardly edit the au at all. ever. when I say I'm "editing" I actually mean "I'm reading it once to see if there's obvious things wrong or things I want to explain more" but that's it. every chapter has just been a first draft, go with the flow kinda thing. and yet!! here we are!! I don't even know what i'd do with a best writer award--probably put it next to the new dragon on my bookshelf so they could vibe. I don't know if what i'm saying makes any sense, but ahh!! thank you!!

I will single-handedly rebuild the fandom during this content drought and reel you all back in with my novel-length fanfiction /j. okay but honestly the wings au is probably gonna turn out to be like...actually fantasy-novel length at this rate. like a published novel. but thank you so much--the storyline was one of the things I was hesitant about when i first published it, because I essentially just went "hey. remember those eight and a half novels and all their worldbuilding? forget almost everything. i've broken it into pieces and we're starting over." but you all have been overwhelmingly kind and supportive of all the changes and the way i've incorporated their old world into this new one I broke. and the wording! I try to stay true to some of Shannon's style, as sometimes when a fanfic author has a style too different from the original media it can feel weird and less like the characters (not always! there are several fics out there with very unique writing styles that don't feel strange at all, this is just something I've personally noticed). But, shannon is also writing for middle grade, and I wanted to add my own personal twist instead of just using her voice. so there's some things of my own that I do (most noticeable is the intentional misuse of grammar for drama, probably, but I am curious what else you all notice that's unique to me) and don't do (I don't think i've used "corrected" as a dialogue tag more than a handful of times) to separate it. and then the development! a lot of development in canon rn has to do with romantic relationships, as we're focusing on the aftermath of sophitz and a focus on sophie and keefe, but we can't separate them from their tension and denial at the moment. I think there's a lot more to them we don't get to see because of it, so I'm trying to develop some of that in the wings au (and there's some characters I just haven't gotten to yet, like Wylie and Maruca, so I'm not ignoring them, dw)

and yes! I am still basically writing a book! at this point I should design a cover for it too...I wonder what would be on it, the parts that stand out the most in the story that I should symbolize it all in one image. but before I get to that I should continue writing the story I suppose! I'm currently maybe 40% (rough estimate) of the way through writing chapter 13, but I must admit my classes do make it annoying at times, taking up more time than I would like (this is what I get for taking more classes than I strictly needed to. I do not know how to take a break when it comes to education /lh). but that's not important rn

you sent this a few days ago, so I don't know if you've finished your reread/catch-up since then, but if you did I hope you enjoyed it!! if you haven't then I hope you will enjoy if you ever do read the rest! there's about a week before the next chapter comes out, which is around 8.1k words at the moment (same length as the last one), so if you are caught up then there's even more to look forward to soon! and i'll probably post the first snippet from chapter 12 tomorrow, as I usually do that the sunday before posting day.

dragon wings Marella owns my entire heart and i'm very excited to do more with her (was actually writing about her earlier today!).

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theintentioncraft · 3 years

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To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES - When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag up to 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours.

I've been tagged by @lordbelacqua (thank you Dea! <3) to talk about Backlead aka: that one Masriel fic I wrote where I got massively carried away...

Rambling/essay under the cut - fair warning, it's a long one!

Okay so first of all just a little disclaimer that Backlead did not follow my usual writing process - the idea was 110% borne out of self-indulgence and it was also both my first foray into HDM fanfic and my return to fanfic as a whole after a long hiatus from writing, so for me this was really a chance to just get back into the swing of things. Everything from Heavenly Guard through to Swansong and all of my current WIPs follow a more structured process and I'm happy to discuss any of them in a separate post!

PLANNING: I tend to find with my fics that I either have a nice little timeline of events planned out pre-writing or I have a very specific event in my head and I just take that and see how things unravel from there and Backlead was 100% the latter.

All I had in my head initially was the ballroom dance scene and so a lot of my admittedly-minimal planning was around the technicalities of that particular section, as well as some of the more general details e.g Marisa's outfit, the setting of the ball, etc. Planning the dance was the most fun part because it was a chance for me to put a lot of my dance knowledge to good use and think up something that fits the back-and-forth way in which Marisa and Asriel frequently navigate their encounters. In a way though I'm actually very glad that a lot of this fic Just Happened instead of being planned out, sometimes it's nice to just run away with an idea!

MUSIC: This gets its own section because this is one of the most important things in my process. Every single fic I write is written to various pieces of music that just help me to put myself in the right headspace for whatever I'm writing at the time - sometimes its just a single piece of music (I wrote Swansong in one hour with just one track from the Unforgotten - a TV show in the UK for those of you not familiar with it - soundtrack on repeat) and sometimes its entire playlists. I do love geeking out about my music choices for fic writing so happy to talk more in a separate post about music for some of my other fics if anyone's curious!

For Backlead I found a couple of playlist-vids from the lovely raviolae on youtube that really worked wonders for my writing. This comes with a disclaimer that I did not necessarily attribute any of these specific songs to either dance scene and I wanted to leave that open for people's imagination - but it's still brilliant vibes for thinking about two once-lovers-now-enemies trying to one-up each other whilst ignoring how much they still find each other attractive.

The two playlist-vids in question are here: you're stuck on the dance floor with your rival and find out they're an annoyingly good dancer and you're dancing with your rival and both of you want to lead

WRITING: First step every time is to figure out who's POV I'm going to cover because that makes a major difference in the way I'm going to write. Characterisation is the big thing for me and there's nothing I love more than to really get inside a character's head and basically think like them, and figure out what makes them tick and how they'll react to the story I'm putting them in. With my initial idea for Backlead being basically about the subtle power dynamics of a ballroom dance, Marisa felt like the natural go-to for this one and I found it much easier in this instance to write in her headspace than in Asriel's.

I wrote this fic in a very out-of-order fashion. The first dance (the slower, waltz-style dance) was the first part I finished, then I did as hinted at above get very carried away and move onto the section in the hallway, then I went right to the start and covered the entire section leading up to that first dance. Then I revisited the hallway scene because I wanted to rework it (the initial version was planned to be more explicit and involved less dialogue - but I wasn't comfortable with writing out the former at that time and the latter got changed by way of me having a sudden burst of dialogue-themed inspiration). The second, more set piece style dance came last in terms of the 'major events' that I wrote purely because I spent a lot of time racking with my dance knowledge to try and make it work in a way that didn't feel forced.

My final major writing stage is to write the 'transitions' between each major part - small pieces where nothing particularly noteworthy happens but it helps the fic to flow from one conversation/event to the next and also sometimes allows me to sneak in a bit of characterisation that I couldn't fit in elsewhere.

Along the way I often leave sentences half-finished with a bracket indicator so I know to go back to it later or I make little notes if I've added something in that needs explaining earlier in the fic, and I make sure to sort those parts out before I jump to the self review/beta reader stage. A couple of examples are below:

Although sometimes this method does also annoy future me too 😂:

SELF REVIEW/BETA REVIEW: Whenever I finish a fic, it gets put away for a day or two and I stop thinking about it completely - if I'm using a beta reader (usually @thatlavanderbard but I sometimes enlist help from friends on discord), I'll send them a copy of my draft at this point so they can start going through and leaving comments for me to work on, but the idea is that when I go back to my work a few days later I'm looking at it with semi-fresh eyes and can properly sift through each sentence to make sure things make sense.

When I'm self-reviewing I generally tend to follow this order of operations: spelling/grammar check (via docs') -> flow check (making sure any deliberate time skips/POV changes/etc in my fic flow smoothly from one part to the next) -> address beta reader comments (because they almost always pick up on things I myself would've picked up on anyway) -> general detailed final read through to make sure I'm happy with every single line and it all makes sense.

Backlead didn't get a full beta read because I had hit a point with it where I just wanted it up ASAP and my impatience got the better of me, but the rest of the above self-review stages still happened and I still spent a fair few evenings going through it properly and also running the occasional sentence or two by some helpful discord friends if I didn't like the way it flowed but couldn't quite figure out how to remedy it!

POSTING: First step was to reset my AO3 password because I forgot it yet again whoops

On a more serious note this part is pretty straightforward - once I'm ready to post a new fic I generally just go on autopilot for this part of the process (other than when I get to 'additional tags' and immediately get brain freeze...). As soon as it's up on AO3 I swing by here to make a post about it, then swing by discord to drop the link to friends who may be interested in reading it and then I normally nervously scuttle away from my notifications for a while out of fear that people hate it lmao.

That last part was especially true for Backlead because of it being my first trip into HDM fanfic and I always get extra nervous when posting my first fanfic for a new show/game/etc. Thankfully I got quite a few nice comments both on here and on discord that provided good motivation to stick around and post a few more things!

I always panic when asked to tag people lmao but I'll tag @fortheloveofwii for any part of the Onward, Onward series, @lyracordelia for any chapter in Hiraeth or the fic as a whole, and @glassrunner for this absolutely gorgeous gifset of beautiful game soundtracks. Please don't feel like you have to do this if you don't want to though!

#stel talks #showyourprocess #y'all thought i rambled in my fics just look at me rambling here #i'm hoping this makes sense!#it was nice to dive into how my brain works when i try to write things #my writing

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