#krieg fanfic

[kokomis-writing-pile]

A Warhammer 40K FanFic

Author's note: This is strictly for fun. I have my Warhammer-loving husband proofread and edit my chapters. If he says it is good, then it's good by the only person's standards I wish to meet. Lyra and Reid are our own characters based on us.

Chapter 1: Survivors

Roars and harsh scraping of metal erupted through the blood-red, dusty sky as a large number of grotesque soldiers clad in light armor, welding guns, and blades rushed the wide-open field littered with corpses and debris from an excruciatingly long battle. Blood pumped adrenaline into the opposing Adeptas Sororitas donned in power armor as she stared the enemy in the face, pulling the trigger on her bolt pistol and taking out what man she could. If she was going down, she was taking as many as she could with her. It was not until a split second later that she noticed movement several feet away on her side of the battlefield. Cutting her eyes, she saw it was an Imperial Guardsman, but she could not tell what condition he was in. All she could see from where she stood was a soldier whose olive-green trench coat was caked in blood whether it was his own or the enemy. Regardless, if he was still moving, he could still fight.

In a quick dash, she moved to her allies’ side giving him enough cover fire to get on his feet. It was as if he was bestowed a blessing he did not deserve as he stared up at her for a brief moment through his gas mask. It was clear what had happened now as he looked around at the massacre. Their entire squad was obliterated and they were the last two survivors. The Kriegsman jumped to his feet, snatched his lasrifle from the ground, and took aim. One, two, five, several men shot and downed but it still was not enough for them to back off. The woman noticed one of the opposing Ogryns ready his grenade launcher and the only thing she could think of was to grab ahold of the Kriegsman next to her and yank him out of the way behind some rubble. It gave them a moment to reload and reassess their options.

“Glad to see at least I am not alone in this,” she spoke boldly. “I know your reputation, Kriegsman, but do try to stay alive.”

The man looked at her and took a deep breath reloading his gun. “As you command, sister,” he responded almost regrettably with a curt nod. “I will fight with you ‘til my last breath.”

Once the break in the enemy’s fire had come, the Kriegsman and Sister rushed from behind the rubble and unloaded upon them once more. They could not make any advances and they could not really retreat. An attempt was made to contact the ship or anyone for that matter, but there was never a response. It was an assumption that the coms ceased to work or there was too much interference.

The Kriegsman noticed a body with grenades still present just a few feet away and decided to make a break for it. The sister covered him as he did but ducked covering her head from another explosion. Managing to grab them, he rushed forward pulling the pins and tossing the whole belt as hard as he could. They flew through the air until they landed at the feet of the army exploding on impact and taking a massive chunk out of their line. Then it made its presence known. The huge suit of unholy power armor covered in blood moved through the army, a giant chainaxe in one hand, heretical combi-bolter in the other. For two people, it seemed a bit excessive for a Chaos Lord to present himself, but it was just their luck it seemed. They could not defeat that. There was no way to defeat that. Their fate might as well have been sealed but that did not mean they would stop trying. Cowardice did not know a place within the imperium of man. If it did, it was killed swiftly.

“KRIEGSMAN! GET BACK HERE NOW!”

There was no response, only a frozen man unable to move. At first, she thought he might have been frozen with fear and truthfully, she did not blame him. It was a logical and human response. Though Kriegsmen were known to be fearless, maybe this was a moment of truth to see just how fearless they really were when no one else was around.

The giant took many large steps toward the pair, closing the gap rather quickly until he was within arm's reach. He raised his blade ready to slice the man who swore to fight with her but then, nothing. The Kriegsman raised his fist and extended his fingers as if flicking water off his glove. A hole had blown straight through the Chaos Lord's armor and body so effortlessly that gore was strewn about the battlefield in an instant. The moment this gargantuan being fell over, the rest of the army turned tail and ran as fast as they could in utter fear as their champion fell. The Chaos Lord’s body exploded with empyrical energy, the explosion blowing the Kriegsman several feet away and into some metal rubble. The sister had no idea just what she had witnessed but it was certainly the work of the divine and maybe her prayers had been answered. He had fought until his last breath just as he had said and she was the last one standing, or so she thought. Out of reflex, she ran to him sliding across the mud and muck as he lay limp against the metal supporting him. His leg had been blown clean off at his knee, his mask had taken extreme damage resulting in the left side of his face terribly injured, and he was lucky he had a chest plate to protect his most vital organs. Those were the only obvious and noticeable injuries.

Leaning in, she felt for his pulse and was surprised he still had one after all that but his breathing was very shallow. The sister grabbed him, pulling him up into her arms to carry him to a much safer location to treat him. She could have left him to die, but if he was meant to die he would have been killed outright by that monster. Something was special about him and she was not going to let that be snuffed out so hastily.

After getting him to safety, she leaned him against the shelter’s wall and checked his pulse and breathing once more. He was still hanging on. She looked him over before taking some of the cloth from her garb to wrap tightly around his bleeding leg to slow the flow of blood.

“S- I- Lyr-” static came over her coms. “Sist– Come i-”

The sister opened her coms and began talking, whether they could hear her or not. “I’m here. This is Sister Lyra.”

There was still static but obviously, someone was trying to come through until the signal cleared. “Sister Lyra, this is Moz do you read?”

“Yes, Moz! Thank the emperor. I’m here. A guardsman and I are in dire need of your retrieval.”

“Understood. Send me your coordinates so that I may find you.”

Lyra leaned back for a moment and sent a signal to the pilot, Moz. “I sent them. Please, be quick about it. I need medical, immediately.”

She turned her attention back to the man in front of her and he was still unmoving. His chest rose and fell ever so slightly. Maybe if she just removed the mask, she could monitor him better. Lyra reached over and went to tug on his gas mask only for her wrist to be snatched in a panic. A single eye stared at her before realizing who she was and hesitantly let go of her wrist. Lyra pulled his mask off, tossing it aside for the moment. His face was nearly non-existent on the left as blood poured all over him as it was the only thing keeping his face intact. Taking yet another piece of cloth, she wrapped his head to stop the bleeding and keep what flesh on the left side together as she could. He hissed in discomfort but stayed still as she tended to him. He looked down at his leg noticing that it had been removed then felt the autogun wounds and bruises on his arms when he tried to move. He looked up at her curiously and she knew what he wanted to ask.

“How-” he started. “Sister, just leave me. I can be of no use to you. I'm sure I'll be disposed of once we're back on the ship…I didn't serve my purpose.”

“Pilot Moz is coming, you’ll be taken care of, and you’re going to live whether you like it or not. Do you understand?” she replied curtly.

Looking slightly taken aback by her tone, he agreed with a grumble. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You served your purpose. I don’t know what happened, exactly, but one second you were frozen solid and the next the beast was dead. I believe you were touched. That means you still have a fight left in you, and you're meant to live. So throw a fit, kick, and scream, whatever you like, you’re alive until further notice. What’s your number? Or.. name if you have one. Do Kriegsmen have names in the 83rd regiment?”

The man shifted and sighed. It certainly was not exactly what he wanted to hear but at least he did her a great service by keeping her safe with whatever he did. He could not remember.

“Reid Caldwell…Might I know yours, Sister?”

“Lyra Mickeal.”

The sound of a carrier hummed and shook the ground as it landed nearby. Two veterans left the ship to assist the pair returning to the ship as quickly as possible. As soon as they had returned to the ship, the Kriegsman was taken away for medical treatment following Lyra's orders and she was left writing the report noting every last detail of their mission and the disaster that had followed.

#warhammer fanfic #warhammer 40000 #Warhammer 40K #Kriegsmen #death korps of krieg #adepta sororitas #Sister of Battle

[roachesrule]

Krieg oneshot

Song inspo:

 Die for you- The Weekend

“Just know that I would die for you.”

first ever one shot please give me some tips they would be greatly appreciated!! I hope you enjoy <3

(gender neutral reader)

________________________________________________________

“They’re so beautiful..” he thought to himself staring longingly at the..in his eyes.. Goddess/god-like person. He didn't even know this person. But he was smitten. From their glowing face beaming with happiness, to their beautiful legs and scuffed boots. they were.. Gorgeous. If only he could tell her. He internally sighed, knowing himself he would probably yell something vulgar at the person and scare them away. 

The person known as ((name)) was washing cups behind the bar, chatting away with the regulars. Sparing glances at the psycho staring at them. He was a very fine man. Mid 30s maybe? He had very broad shoulders and a very thin waist. “Hey, sweetie. Anything I can get you?” you asked nicely. Awaiting an answer patiently while he just twitches like a possum playing dead.

“Oh god. She came over here. Don't do anything stupid. Like yell-””WANNA SEE MY SHINY MEAT BICYCLE !?” the man yelled at them. Making the person jump back a bit. “God dammit. Why can't you just be normal.” he sighed, knowing you were probably going to kick him out. “Heh..you're a bit odd.. How about some whiskey ?” they giggled at the man's sudden outburst. 

You've dealt with psychos before, most being hostile and trying to hurt you. This one was a bit different. You could see in his eyes there was something other than wanting to murder. “So what's your name hun ?” you ask, grabbing the whiskey and a glass. He seems to hesitate for a moment struggling with his answer. You're a very patient person, I mean you have to deal with drunks every day, so patience was a necessity. 

“Tell them your name is Krieg. Focus and tell them your name is KRIEG.” his sane self scolded him. “KRIEG.” he said loud and confidently. “I like it. Sounds nice.” they respond “my name is ((name)).” they state, setting the glass down for him. “Here you are. I'll be right back..” they said, walking away to tend to other customers. Eyes following your body around the bar, gaze never leaving your form. “That's the most spectacular person I have ever seen.” he thinks to himself. 

Time skip~

Taking a deep breath, you turn the lights to the bar off and begin your walk home. Still thinking about Krieg. He was a bit odd but what do you expect from a man like him. He liked to yell and talk about his meat bicycle. Whatever that was. You found it amusing, a contrast to your normally boring job. Trudging your way home, you hear something rustle behind you. Walking faster you hear footsteps start following you. Someone grabs you and the second they grab you. You hear a snap. “Bones..”  you thought, the disgusting grotesque sound rings throughout the calm night. Crunching and squishing as the body thuds against the ground. “AHAHAHA!! YOU OK PRETTY PERSON?!” the all too familiar voice yells at you. 

“Im ok Krieg.. Wait.. how did you know i was in trouble. Did you follow me.” you ask, heavily concerned “YES!” 

“NO!” his inner voice yells “WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT!?”. "um..Krieg..that's bad.” the woman tells the man. “I KNOW.” he responds, ((name)) sighs, and smiles at the man's goofiness. “You wanna come home with me?” they ask. Krieg buffers again, thinking. “Yes, say yes. Say yes to her.” “HELL YEAH!!” he said eagerly.

________________________________________________________

#borderlands 2 #borderlands fanfic #one shot #x reader #gender neutral reader #krieg borderlands #first post #first fanfic

[handsometheo]

Borderlands Masterlist

Characters I write for:

Handsome Jack

Mad Moxxi

Timothy Lawrence

Katagwa Jr.

Rhys Strongfork

Lilith

Patricia Tannis

Tyreen Calypso

Troy Calypso

Maya

Krieg

Axton

Salvador

Zer0

Gaige (Bl3)

Tina (Bl3)

+ more possibly to be added

Headcanons only will be posted here, Full fics will be posted on Ko-fi.

FLUFF

ANGST

(SMUT will also be Ko-fi only, I don't want under 18s to have immediate access yk, too dangerous they usually find away but this at least puts a barrier here.)

HURT/COMFORT

IMAGINES

FULL FICS (Ko-fi Only)

#Handsome Jack #Mad Moxxi #Timothy Lawrence #Katagwa Jr. #Rhys Strongfork #Lilith #Patricia Tannis #Tyreen Calypso #Troy Calypso #Maya #Krieg #Axton #Salvador #Zer0 #Gaige (Bl3) #Tina (Bl3) #borderlands #borderlands 2 #fanfic #borderlands 3 #Borderlands angst #Borderlands fluff #Borderlands smut #Borderlands imagines

[helpmeimblorboing]

Fandom : One Piece

Summary : "In all the world, they say, there is not a man as feared as Dracule Mihawk, strongest of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. With his black blade, he had all but annihilated every opponent in his path. The seas themselves tremble when his name is spoken. The world shakes when his eyes open.

As long as he lived, who else could dare attempt to claim the title of "Greatest Swordsman in the World ?". Perhaps the feared Whitebeard, or the mighty Oden, but they had no interest in claiming such a title, and so, for now, and it seemed, forever, Dracule Mihawk was the uncontested "god" of swordsmen.

The unreachable ideal to strive towards... and yet, like deer before a lion, no one seemed to have enough courage to test themselves against the Hawk-eyed Swordmaster, leaving him unchallenged... and alone

But, as the saying goes, it is lonely at the top.. and Mihawk certainly was lonely. He sought an adversary, a worthy opponent, to stave off the ennui and boredom of endless victory, and yet, alas, none seemed powerful enough. "

Until, of course, today

OR

The encounter between Mihawk and Zoro (and earlier, between Mihawk and the Krieg Pirates) told from Mihawk's POV

Title : The Master of the Black Blade

Link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/49828552

#fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #one piece #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk pov #bamf mihawk #retelling #don krieg

[crypticbab]

Don't judge me, but I'm in the process of making a fanfiction detailing more shit from the borderlands. All from the perspective of our friendly neighborhood psycho. I'm deviating from the main canon just slightly for funsies and to add more feeling. Come take a look, maybe you'll enjoy it!

Read Psyren: A Psycho's Sanity free of charge!

Title art belongs to... Cb350four

All characters are owned by Gearbox or is a random side character that doesn't matter.

#borderlands #psyren #fanfic #krieg #maya #krieg borderlands #maya borderlands #psyren fanfic #wattpad #🪓 #Maya 💙

[fallingforfandoms]

.

#wie mir vorhin so random der gedanke kam dass ich mehr tiere in meine fanfics einbauen sollte #und jetzt krieg ich gerade eben durch zufall raus dass lisa ne schwarze katze daheim hat #(und die sieht literally genauso aus wie die von ulrike ich war gerade ganz kurz sehr verwirrt) #wenn das kein zeichen ist dann weiß ich auch nicht :D #jo schreibt

[summersnow82]

Regrettable Actions

Fanfiction _ SeaQuest

Fictober 2022/ Prompt #3: “That was not my intention.”

Author's Note: I've always loved Krieg and Crocker, and I wanted to highlight them in this little fic. (Hitchcock/ Krieg ship forever!)

.........

Lieutenant Benjamin Krieg stood at attention before Captain Nathan Bridger, Chief Crocker, and Commander Jonathan Ford in the Briefing Room.

“You wanna tell me just what the hell you were thinking, Lieutenant?” Bridger shouted. He was mad, madder than Krieg had ever seen him. Ben bit his tongue hard to keep his typical smart-alack remark from escaping. It had truly been an innocent prank – just a little something to lighten the mood. Now Ben worried he might be facing a court marshal, or worse.

“I apologize, sir. My efforts were to lift the crew’s spirits. I didn’t mean,” he paused, wincing at the memory. “I never intended for anything disrespectful to take place. Truly.”

Ford scoffed, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Commander Hitchcock has gone to bat for you more times than I can count, Lieutenant, and this is how you repay her?”

Ben winced visibly. He’d done a lot of sketchy things in his past, some better than others, but he always thought of Katie as one of his bright spots. He knew he was marrying out of his league, and when he thought back on their whirlwind romance and short-lived marriage all he could see were his failures.

He was surprised it had lasted as long as it had.

“I have,” his voice cracked, and he swallowed hard to regain his composure. “I have nothing but the utmost respect for Ka – for Commander Hitchcock. I know you may not believe me,” he said, catching Ford’s expression, “but it’s the truth.” He looked up, meeting Bridger and Crocker’s gaze. “I would never hurt her.”

Crocker heaved a heavy sigh, shaking his head, and looking down at his shoes. Ford’s opinion of Ben was unfavorable, and well-known. But the Captain…

“I had doubts about keeping a divorced couple aboard when I first arrived, Lieutenant, but the two of you seemed capable of handling it.” He looked pensive, drawing his lips into a tight line. “I’ve had other vessels try to poach Commander Hitchcock, but she’s incredibly valuable to this crew. In light of this deep embarrassment, however,” he paused, and Ben couldn’t stop himself as the words tumbled out of him.

“Sir, please don’t send her away. I’ll do anything. Send me instead, but not her. She is valuable – she’s the most valuable person on this ship. She… she doesn’t deserve to be exiled for a stupid stunt on my part. She was never the target, and if I could go back and change it, I would. Katie deserves the best, and SeaQuest is the best. Please.” Ben had never been one to beg, but he was begging now. He’d always hoped one day they could rekindle what they once had, partially because he knew he had her trust, if not her affection. But after today he knew he’d destroyed that, as well.

Ben felt hot tears prick his eyes, and he hated himself for it. He wasn’t crying for himself; he was crying because he’d had a chance at something beautiful and amazing with someone he held dearer than anybody else on this earth, and he’d done what he did best: screwed it up.

He hated himself for it every damn day.

He knew his superior officers could see him struggling to compose himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel ashamed. Every fiber of his being was directing that at what he’d done to his ex-wife. “I…,” he tried, shook his head, and wiped his face. He opened his mouth to start again, but Bridger held his hand up, silencing him.

“That’s enough, Ben.” Bridger sighed, looking at Crocker, shaking his head.

“You still love her,” Ford breathed, a look of wonder on his face at the revelation. “Why the hell would you ever divorce her if you still loved her?”

Ben looked up showing his red eyes and tear-stained face. “It’s what she wanted. She wasn’t happy, and nothing I did was helping, so…,” he gestured helplessly. “If you love someone you want them to be happy. Even if it isn’t with you.” He dropped his gaze, swallowing hard.

Bridger nodded, sinking into a chair. “That’ll be all, Commander. The Chief and I can take it from here.” Ford nodded, shutting the door behind him, and Ben waited for the ax to fall. It was coming – he just knew it.

Instead, Crocker moved across the room, wrapping the younger man in a strong hug, clapping him on the back reassuringly. “It’s all right, son,” he said, even though Ben knew it wasn’t. “We’ll figure it out. It’ll be all right.”

#fictober22 #fictober #fictober 2022 #seaquest dsv #seaquest #seaquest fanfiction #ben krieg #chief crocker #captain nathan bridger #nathan bridger #katherine hitchcock #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction.net #fanfic #fan fiction #ben loves katie #and he always will #crocker's the dad we all know and love #i miss them

[herzlak]

junge junge bin ich die einzige, die heut absolut nichts gebacken kriegt?

#ich sitz hier seit stunden rum und scroll nur auf social media rum und bin müde :/ #krieg nicht mal ne fanfic geschrieben oder so boahhhh #jaa es ist okay mal nix zu tun wenn man down ist aber halt so absolut nix #voll nervig aber bin halt auch zu unmotiviert für alles lol

[akwolfgrl]

#one piece #fanfic #alpha beta omega #don krieg

[frogbearwhatever]

Very Short Story- Permeate

The Death Korps were equipped to endure the most toxic, horrific environments.

No complaints as they slogged through mud and smog.

Chemicals and toxins washed over them.

But the dread could permeate. Even in their hardened, fatalistic minds, terror began taking root

Some Warhammer 40k fanfic today

#my writing #writing #minific #prompted writing #very short stories #vss #vss 2023 #bravewrite #death korps of krieg #warhammer40k #wh40k #fanfic

[kokomis-writing-pile]

A Warhammer 40K FanFic

[Author's note: This is strictly for fun. I have my Warhammer-loving partner proofread and edit my chapters. I don't take kindly to volunteered criticism. Lyra and Reid are our own characters based on us.

Additionally, I am not 100% familiar with the world to give proper world-building, but I am doing my absolute best. Thank you.]

Chapter 2: Blessed by the Divine

There was so much commotion coming from the injured soldier as he was being taken away that the guard assisting with the escort had to sedate him. The last thing he had seen before closing his uninjured eye was her, the Sister who stood with him through the fight. With him ceasing to struggle and argue, it was that much less daunting to get him to the infirmary and keep his blood from soaking the metal floor beneath him.

Lyra took the time to speak with Sister Superior Harrow about the details of what occurred and even she seemed taken aback. Their platoon had pressed forward and took a massive amount of ground from the enemy before they were annihilated group by group. It was not until it was they who were the last two standing that she had witnessed a saving grace. Lyra explained to Sister Superior that she had seen this Kriegsman obliterate a Chaos Lord with the flick of his wrist. She did not feel fear at that moment but instead, the comfort of that like a saved lamb. Never before had Lyra seen or even heard about a kriegsmen soldier using such divine power in the heat of a moment. She had heard about the existence of perpetual and those being bestowed the honor of using such powers but other than the perpetuals, they did not last long among the living as they went insane or worse. The more Lyra thought about it, the more she kept coming back to the fact he had been hit with such a harsh blast, that it knocked him out cold for a moment. Maybe that stopped whatever had happened. 

“I would like for him to be taken care of during the investigation. Please. I believe he was kept alive for a truly grand reason. I do not believe this to be of Chaos origin but of that of our God-Emperor. He can still fight. He can still serve. I just ask that he receives the best care we can for him. Reid Caldwell deserves that much for assisting me and, I suppose, saving us both,” she spoke kindly. 

Harrow gave a gentle nod. “I’ll see what I can do. Thank you, Sister Lyra. Now go, rest. I will take the report from here. If we need your assistance any further, we will come to you.”

Turning on her heel, Lyra wandered back to her quarters to disrobe and lay down for a short while. She tried to rest but her mind kept playing the scene on repeat. Her eyes had fixated on the metal ceiling above her causing her to notice every notch in the workings. Lyra rolled onto her side to look out her window at the vastness of space. Oftentimes she would count the stars to help her sleep but not this time. It was much more difficult than before. First, she had recurring thoughts of past missions, and now this, but this was fresh. The more she thought about it, the more her face grew long and she sighed. What if they found him to be touched by Chaos? What if they see him as a threat or see it as nothing more than a fluke and kill him? The last thought made her jump out of bed almost immediately. It had just occurred to her that he was making such a fuss and did not even think that they might kill him. A dishonorable death, indeed. Who’s shoulders would it be on if they did kill him? Lyra put her hands on her chest. “My fault…”

In a rush, Lyra put on her clericals and left her room to check where they had taken the man only to find out he was indeed taken to the infirmary. Only very specific persons were allowed to be taken there under certain circumstances and it certainly was not the place for a kriegsman. She could not help but give a sigh of relief hearing that news, though. If he was at the infirmary, he was in much better hands. Taken care of, just as she had asked for.

When she approached the door to the infirmary, she hesitated. She could go in there if she wanted but did she really want to? Taking a deep breath, she wandered in, her hands clasped behind her back. There were several beds lining the walls with just a few soldiers occupying them as a Chiurgeon or two tended to their wounds. As expected, there were also servitors on the side ready to assist, and the smell of blood in the air yet she did not see her soldier. Worry had started to set in but she preoccupied herself as she waited for someone to assist her. Thankfully, it was not too long before one member of the staff noticed her. She waltzed over and gave Lyra an exhausted, “Can I assist you, Sister?”

“Ah, yes. I was wondering about a soldier that had been brought in here just a while ago,” she replied.

“You must mean the Guardsman. Yes, he’s here. They’re tending to him in private. Don’t want him waking up halfway through and making a mess of things here for other patients.”

“I see, would it be…alright if I stayed for a while?”

“Willing to wait for him? I don’t see why not. We’re not overflowing today, yet. Here, you can rest here while you wait.” The Chiurgeon gestured to one of the beds away from anyone else. Just because she was not injured did not mean she could not lay there. As long as no one else needed it. 

Lyra took the offer and laid down staring at the ceiling once again lost in thought. Thankfully, time had passed and she had not realized she had finally fallen asleep for just an hour or two. When she opened her eyes, she saw him lying on the bed next to hers. Those cheeky Chiurgeons. He was within reaching distance but she dared not bother him just yet. Instead, Lyra sat up and sat on the edge of the bed looking him over. The injury on his face was terrible, the flesh having been peeled away in most places and even had a gash across his lip. It seemed like they stitched what they could but a lot was lost across his face and the bridge of his nose. No doubt his nose was actually broken. He had mild burn marks across the rest and thankfully all of the damage was only on his left side. He had bandages on his arms from autogun grazes and she could not even count all the bruises. Lyra’s eyes drifted South to his missing limb they had propped on a rolled-up blanket. It had been cleaned, packed, and wrapped and truly that was the best they could do for now. Lyra bit her thumb and sighed. She feared how he was going to act when he awoke, though she did not have to wait too much longer. The sedatives were wearing off and his primal need to be on guard had him jerking awake. Lyra gently placed her hand on his chest feeling his heart racing. 

“Hey, look who decided to wake up.”

“Where am I?”

Shaking her head, Lyra gave a crack of a smile before it was wiped away. “You’re in the infirmary. They’ve patched you up the best they can for now but you’ll be in good hands, Reid.”

“No… no no... I don’t belong here. I can’t be here. Why am I here?!”

“Reid, I need you to look at me and take some deep breaths, okay?” Lyra spoke calmly as she pressed on his chest just a bit harder to keep him in his bed. “It’s okay. I asked them to bring you here.”

The soldier paused and stared at her quizzically. 

“Something touched you out there on that battlefield and I’d say that makes you pretty damn special, Kriegsman. You saved both of us and I understand that isn’t your cup of re-caf, but I am thankful. Extremely thankful. If you want to continue to serve our God-Emperor, I need you taken care of, now don’t I?”

Reid was silent for a long while seemingly contemplating his choices. Then again, what choices did he have? Say no and get disposed of? Not a chance. “I don’t remember what I did. You said something about putting a hole in something. What did I put a hole in?”

“The Chaos Lord,” she replied bluntly.

Astonished, Reid sputtered for a moment. “I’m sorry, I did what?!” He looked around for a moment and saw the staff, giving him a look as if to tell him to quiet down so he did. “Me? I put a hole in the Chaos Lord?”

Lyra nodded. “And then he erupted and you got caught in the fire resulting in…this.” She gestured to his injuries. “If it wasn’t for you being blessed with power in our time of need, we’d both be dead for sure. You’re worth keeping alive.”

“Indeed! But we need to investigate a few things, if you don’t mind, Sister Lyra,” came a voice from behind. 

Turning sharply, she saw one of their investigators, Rey Varkov, an older tall gentleman with black hair, a blue uniform, and a robotic eye. Varkov was accompanied by two others at his side; a servitor scribe and a rather intimidating officer. “We have received your report and we have a few things to cover before we’ll allow anything further than medicae. If you’ll excuse us, Sister.”

“Of course. I’ll be back.”

Lyra wandered off away from the four of them but stayed within sight of them all. The investigator asked several questions, probing for answers for a while. While he asked Reid questions, she could not make out what they were saying, then again, she did not need to. After the servitor scribe wrote down everything, they turned away and let him be. As Varkov walked by, he calmly informed her that he was “all yours.” That was good news to her and before she knew it, she was back at his side once again before he felt too tired to keep talking. The logical thing now was to let him rest and she had some sleep to catch up on.

****

A couple of days had passed before a chiseled, grey-haired, grizzly man sat in his chair looking over the footage from the recent report given by Sister Lyra, Superior Harrow, and the questions Varkov had asked, investigating the events that took place. It seemed suspicious but nothing to really jump at. If Investigator Varkov said nothing seemed out of the ordinary, then he believed him but this footage caught by the servo skull was something else. In all his years serving, he had seen some wild and unexplainable phenomenon so he was surprised, but not too surprised. The man called for his assistant and demanded that they give the Kriegsman a notice. He was to come to the Officio Interigatus as soon as he was physically able, he had some matters he wished to assess himself.

****

“The Officio Interigatus?” Reid repeated to the assistant before they left the room. He did not receive an answer. They had said what they needed to say and left. “O..kay… Great. Whatever happened to me must have put a target on my forehead,” he grumbled.

The soldier laid there looking around the room. Honestly, he was bored and itching both physically due to injury and mentally feeling the need to be on the battlefield. That was all he knew. What he lived, breathed, dreamt. Sitting stationary did not feel remotely correct in his book. But as he thought this, he looked down at his missing limb. There was no way he could do anything. Not at the moment. Reid’s hand hovered over the left side of his face grimacing as he tried to come to terms with the condition he was in. It was like a mental flashbang. But all that subsided when she walked in.

Reid looked up to see Lyra wander in with something wrapped in her arm. Tilting his head, he tried to guess from a distance but he just was not sure until she was right next to him.

“Sister Lyra. What brings you here? You don’t have to keep checking in on me,” he spoke quietly. “I mean- I’m thankful that you do.”

“I overheard that you were summoned so I wanted to see how you were progressing in your recovery,” she replied softly.

Reid scoffed and turned his attention away from her. There was no hiding the fact he was ill-tempered at the moment but keeping his composure for the sake of keeping the peace. “Progressing to the best of my ability, I s’pose.” 

Lyra removed the wrapped item from under her arm and held it out. “It’s not much but, if you wish to continue to serve, I suppose you need a leg up in this situation.”

There was a long pause, longer than there should have been before Reid slowly turned to look at her. Forget the leg she held in front of him, did she just make a joke? And a poor one at that? He hated it but he could not stop himself from biting his lip. Never had he heard a Sister make a joke, laugh, smile, nothing. 

“That… was terrible. How dare you,” he chuckled.

“Face it, that lightened your mood just a bit.”

“...Just a bit…”

Lyra held the prosthetic in her hand letting him look it over. It was pretty basic but it would certainly do the job. After all, one could not complain about what they were given. One of the staff had come over to retrieve it from her explaining that they would prepare him for pre-op and get him situated with his new attachment as soon as possible. They continued to explain that it may take a couple more days to get him rehabilitated but he should be fine then. Lyra gave them a nod as they walked away then gently put her hand on his thigh. 

Reid felt slightly warm feeling her calloused hands touch his skin, something he truly did not deserve. “Do try to keep your chin up. You have some heretics to kill later.” Then with that, she turned and left him to his own devices. 

****

After a few days had passed, Reid was set with his new prosthetic and was up and walking again in no time. The medics chalked it up to his undying determination to just get out of the infirmary and his unwillingness to sit idle. Whatever the case may have been, he was out and ready to deal with whatever came next. The Kriegsman hobbled to the Officio Interigatus, his mind racing as to just what he was wanted there for. It could have been great news or terrible news and given the way of life in the 41st millennium, both could be bad. 

As he walked in, he could see a counsel of higher-ranking officers, Inspector Varkov, Inquisitor Magvar, and several others. There were servitor scribes ready and waiting, servo skulls to record the hearing, and cherubs carrying scrolls of all sorts. Reid made his way to the middle of the room assuming this was his final trial. He gave a salute and awaited what came next. 

“Imperial Guardsman 37456-65970-Caldwell, you have been called to the Officio Interigatus following your previous mission to Tarex-Cv8 and the use of power from origins unknown. Do you recall these events?” Varkov asked as he stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back.

“I do not,” Reid replied curtly.

“Footage was captured of this event and analyzed carefully. Where you did a great service, it is highly concerning. However, upon closer investigation, we can rest assured that power is no longer present…for the time being. Was there anything you can remember at all? Did you hear or see anything beforehand?”

Reid hesitated but replied truthfully, “I didn’t hear anything. I did, however, see a burning white light before regaining consciousness to Sister Lyra tending to my wounds. That is truly all that I remember. I launched a last attempt to kill the Heretic Lord and then nothing.”

“I see,” Varkov replied. Looking back at the grizzly man behind him, Inquisitor Magvar gave the inspector an approving nod. 

“Reid Caldwell, due to your unique circumstance, you are hereby placed under the command of Inquisitor Ivan Magvar following today’s hearing. Welcome to the Inquisition.”

Hearing those words, Reid was taken aback so much so that he staggered a little on his false limb. Being accepted into the Inquisition was the furthest thing he had expected, and without jumping through so many hoops to get there, too. Magvar stepped forward as he looked down upon the soldier. 

“However,” his rough voice boomed. “You will be watched closely. There will be no room for suspicious activity. Any of the sort will result in your extermination, do you understand, guardsman?”

Reid gave a firm salute and a curt, “Yes, sir!”

“You’re dismissed.”

#warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #warhammer fanfic #adepta sororitas #death korps of krieg #kriegsmen #sister of battle #FanFiction for Fun

[gwillwrites]

#not a commission #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #black library #fanfic #fanfiction #cold open stories #astra militarum #death korps of krieg

[hydine]

Zosan au? 🫠 Where 19yo Zoro fights a young Mihawk and gets that gnarly chest-scar. A healer takes care of him, but Zoro is an egoistic little shit, and turns on the healer as soon as he could move, and gets cursed into being a tiger who can't die (but can still get injured) and won't age, unless he finds someone who he'd die for.

The same year, Sanji was born.

After a few years Zoro manages to get caught by Germa for being strong and immortal, meets little Sanji in the cells. Zoro makes an impression on Sanji for being docile, and in turn Sanji makes an impression on Zoro for being kind, as the smol boi always shares his food.

They eventually flee Germa together and end up with Zeff. Sanji gives the tiger the name Marimo, because his fur color is the same as mossballs he saw in the book (and ofc he can't know his real name, because tigers can't talk). Marimo is a menace on the Baratie, as he can't walk around freely, in fear of Germa still searching for him (but not for Sanji), but somehow they manage. Marimo watches Sanji grow up and was there through all his highs and lows.

Then they eventually meet Luffy, and shortly after, Mihawk enters the scene, who recognizes Zoro. After the fight with Don Krieg, Zeff and Mihawk share a drink (old friends), and Mihawk tells Zeff all about Zoro. Mihawk doesn't know anything about the curse, but he just knows it's the green-haired swordsman from his youth, an actual human. Sanji was caught eavesdropping.

Zeff kicks Sanji out, along with his pet tiger, telling them to find a way to break the curse. They sail with Luffy. Luffy apparently understands tiger Zoro, as if he were human, even manages to talk Nami into buying swords for Zoro, and he actually fights with one in his mouth.

With time, Sanji starts to doubt what would happen if they really find a way to break the curse. If Marimo would stay or not. Luffy assures Sanji that it's fine, he's recruited the both of them after all, so Zoro will have to stay.

Eventually, Thriller Bark happens 🫠 Where Sanji is the first to offer his life, but Zoro still knocks him out, because he wanted to save Sanji.

The curse is broken.

(Whatever happens next, I leave to more skilled fanfic authors 👀)

#zosan #zosan au #zosan fic idea

[opbackgrounds]

i was going back and rereading some of your coverage of the east blue, and a couple things stood out to me about krieg that i didn’t think much about on my first read through.

for one, how did he get back to the east blue? the rules of traveling the grand line seems like something that oda would have known about at this point, especially what with zeff’s logbook being an important plot element in the arc, thus i can’t really contribute this to just a plothole. krieg certainly has lots of resources and technology, so, especially what with him infamously impersonating marine ships, maybe it’s possible he has knowledge about sea prism and its use for travel.

that brings me to my second point, which is that holy shit is krieg’s technology advanced compared to most of the world, but especially to the east blue. armor much stronger than steel, fully rifled, fully automatic metal projectiles, poison gas, even a spear that explodes on contact and doesn’t seem to require any sort of refueling or anything. sure he may not be building cyborgs with lasers, but all the tech crammed into his armor kinda blurs the lines between armor and a mech suit. it all makes you wonder what kinds of engineers he has on his crew (or, if he invented all that himself, what he could be capable of if given the same resources as some of the other scientists in the series)

I’ve always assumed Krieg got back to the East Blue via the Calm Belt. He’s got enough manpower to row, which would partially explain why they were so broken and starving by the time they got to the Baratie. Since he did steal marine ships he might have had a sea stone hull to keep the sea kings away.

And all of Krieg’s tech is a holdover of when Oda wanted to make him the first cyborg in the series. Just how he would have been made into a cyborg is a mystery, but as is all the weapons work with the “spear of spirit” metaphor Oda was going for. A lot of times Oda will prioritize a theme over realism, so I wouldn’t worry over it too much.

Makes for some fun fan fic fodder, though, should anyone care about Krieg enough to write fanfic for him lol.

#sarc talks

[mlmxreader]

How Times Change | Hugo Stiglitz x m!reader

anonymous asked; Stiglitz with I'm not gonna hurt you

summary: there was a man, so many years ago, that you knew well and that you cared about deeply, but war changes time, and although you would like to see him again, you know that it will only be briefly.

tws: swearing, war, smoking, mentions of alcohol/drinking

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

You had joined the war in thirty eight, nearly six years ago when the news first broke about what those fascist scum were doing; you knew that it was the right thing to do and that the allies needed every hand they could hold.

The allies needed all the help they could get, and the more glad you were to kill fascists, the more help you could be; you were assigned to a special forces regiment, told that you would be operating away from other allies.

But in those six years, the only ones left were you and Archie; you had become inseparable, and when Churchill, the fucking war criminal who had enough blood on his hands for it to fill his own grave, told you both that you were to meet with another allied group, you wanted to scream.

What use was a small group? You weren't going to be able to save lives with just a handful of soldiers. What fucking use would you be?

But Archie talked you into it, and although you weren't happy, you eventually agreed; the Basterds were... fine. Hugo, especially, was nice, and you found solace in sitting beside him in the quiet; dimly lit rooms that still smelled of smoke from the recent bombings.

He didn't really look at you, except to hand you cigarettes and smoke with you; didn't say much except the odd murmured thanks when you lit his cigarette or picked up his knife if he dropped it.

Archie noticed it, raised a brow as he looked at you before he pulled you aside into a different room; he didn't look happy, blue eyes glaring at you.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making friends," you deadpanned.

He clenched his jaw. "Don't."

"Why not?"

Archie took a quick look around, making sure no one could hear before he sighed and shook his head. "We're not staying with them. You know our orders."

"Fuck our orders," you growled. "We came here to kill fascist scum, nobody loves slaughtering those cunts more than Stiglitz."

"Revenge isn't necessary," he warned. "I know you miss the others, but-"

"No," you said softly. "This isn't revenge. This is war... you do realise what they're doing to people like me, don't you?"

"I do," he said quietly.

"Then you know what we're fighting for," you hissed. "Archie, I adore you, you're my best friend - but if I can, I'm gonna kill every fucking fascist we come across, and Stiglitz is my best chance... besides..."

"Besides what?"

"He's nice," you shrugged. "He reminds me of someone I used to know."

Archie tutted as he shook his head. "That German boy? It's been years, Corporal."

"You can't tell me he doesn't look like him," you huffed. "Same blue eyes, same dirty blond hair, same scowl."

"He does, but it's not the same man," he insisted. "Even if it were, he's probably long forgotten about you."

"I don't think so," you shook your head, looking over at the Basterds before you excused yourself and headed back over. Archie wished he had a more obedient corporal, but he wasn't about to give you up.

He loved you, after all, you were his best friend and the only man from the regiment left, and he wanted to protect you; he didn't want you to be involved with Kino, at least then you would have a chance of getting what you wanted without worrying about being blown to smithereens.

Aldo caught his attention, and although he didn't want to let you out of his sights, Archie went with him.

"Out of curiosity," you hummed as you lit up a cigarette, speaking quietly. "Were you ever in Wales?"

"Vor dem Krieg," Hugo agreed with a nod. "Ja... Warum?"

"Did you work on a farm?" You asked, and when he nodded, you swallowed thickly. "You didn't, uhm, you didn't meet a young lad there, did you?"

He nodded. "Warum?"

"Do you remember fields of daffodils?" You asked softly. "And stealing whisky to go drink it under the stars?"

Biting at his lip, Hugo nodded.

"Do you remember the days spent riding horses and going up the mountains?"

He nodded, shifting in his seat. "Genug. It was a long time ago."

"Hugo..." you reached into your pocket, and pulled out a pressed daffodil. You shoved it into his hand as you tried to look him in the eyes. "Hugo, it's me."

He looked at it, looked at his own handwriting written on it, and he glared at you. "(y/n)?"

You nodded, daring to smile. "Hi."

His face fell for a moment as he studied your features, daring to drop everything so that he could feel your face in his hands again; it had been so long, he hardly recognised you, hardly knew the lips that he had once spent hours staring at when you spoke.

But now he could taste the whisky on his tongue, and he could remember all the times that you had made the excuse that, by kissing him, you were just chasing the last little taste of the harsh liquor; now he could see the stars glittering in your eyes again and he could hear the sheep in their paddock.

He could smell the fresh dew on the grass and the sweet scent of the berries you would pick for him. He swallowed thickly.

"I broke my promise," he murmured.

"No, you didn't," you shook your head as you dared to crack a smile. "It's been... what? About ten years?"

He nodded.

"I found you," you told you him quietly, trying not to laugh softly. "I win."

He cracked a small smile, hidden when he hung his head and focused on the cigarette in his hand, watching the ash mix with burning tobacco, grey and orange so close to his own skin; he could feel your gaze on him, trying not to blush as he doubled down staring at his cigarette, trying to convince himself that it had been too long. You had moved on, surely, you would have by now. Ten years, six of them spent fighting in war, you would have moved on.

"You were always better at that game."

You grinned, nodding as you swallowed thickly and dared to gently reach out, placing your hand on his shoulder as you sighed. "You stopped writing."

Hugo nodded. "Couldn't afford to send letters... I'm sorry."

You shook your head, daring to press your forehead to the side of his neck, making him tense up at the sudden contact as he swallowed thickly and froze completely. "Don't be. This time, I'm not leaving without you."

He nodded again, slowly moving to put his arm around you; you still felt so good against his body, still smelled like cheap cigarettes and dirt. The last time he had held you that way was when you had invited him to spend the night in the barn with you; he could feel the straw poking into his back and the soft breeze sneaking through the cracks in the walls, he could still hear your soft breathing when you fell asleep and how you snuggled into him without a single care.

Times were different back then, he had thought that there was a chance of returning to you when he had saved up enough money; he could work on the farm for the rest of his life if it meant that he could be near you again. Now, he wasn't even sure if he would see dawn. Now, he wasn't even sure if he would be alive in a matter of hours, let alone for more than a day.

But he still knew he didn't want to say goodbye again, and if he was forced to do it, then he would say goodbye until the war ended and every fascist was dead; he would say goodbye until his very last breath if it meant he just had more time with you.

Someday, somehow, he would make sure he didn't leave you again, he would make sure that he would have even just another minute with you; whatever the cost, Hugo didn't want to leave you again, didn't want to be without you.

"I missed you."

The words sliced his stomach open, forcing his entrails to spill onto the charred and broken wooden floors, staining the light brown with thick blood that looked nearly black; he wanted to try and pick them up, but he couldn't bring himself to let you go, couldn't bring himself to stop being able to feel you in his arms.

Slowly, he coaxed you to sit between his legs, pulling you back enough that he could feel your back against his chest as he rested his forehead against your neck, fingers splayed and sneaking through the gaps between the buttons of your shirt; your skin still felt as soft and warm as it used to, a painful reminder of what he had lost.

You still smelled of smoke and dirt like you always used to, although now the smoke was from fighting, no longer caused by cigarettes; the dirt came from mud and hiding in it, no longer caused by working on the fields. He missed the way it used to smell on you, he missed the way it mixed with sweat and hard liquor; times changed, your smell was the same but the causes of it were different and it wasn't as sweet as it used to be. When he kissed the back of your neck, it wasn't the same.

It wasn't sweat soaked skin he was kissing, or rain soaked. It was dry, and although still soft, it was scarred from bullet fragments and nicks from rubble. It wasn't the skin of a farmhand, it was the skin of a soldier. Still, it reminded him of those days that were long gone; waiting for you to return from synagogue on Saturdays so that he could take you to the woods and spend the day lying on the riverbank, watching the deer and foxes and birds go by.

"I'm not gonna hurt you again," he said quietly, mumbling. "I'm not letting you go, mein Welpe."

You nodded, leaning into him as you dared to let out a long sigh. "You never hurt me."

"I left."

"You had to," you pointed out. "You didn't know that you... you never hurt me."

Hugo knew then, he knew he wouldn't leave your side even if he was forced to; he knew he would never leave you, he would never let you out of his sight for as long as he could still breathe. He couldn't bring himself to let you get hurt when he knew now that he could do something to stop it from happening; he couldn't bring himself to let you go again, to leave you again.

#mlem writes #hugo stiglitz x reader #hugo stiglitz imagine #hugo stiglitz #inglourious basterds x reader #inglourious basterds imagine #inglourious basterds #inglorious basterds x reader #inglorious basterds imagine #inglorious basterds

[lilbittymonster]

Fanfic Writer Asks

Tagged by @crackinglamb 💜💜💜💜💜

Tagging: @ardberts @gatheredfates @allycryz @captainsparklefingers and @piratekenway

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

33

2) What's your total AO3 word count?

113,822 words

3) What fandoms do you write for?

Currently writing for Final Fantasy XIV, have previously written for Borderlands, Fallout 4, and Critical Role.

4) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Only A Thought Away (Critical Role) - 182 kudos

This Is Home (Critical Role) - 169 kudos

I Will Endure (Critical Role) - 127 kudos

Forgiveness (Critical Role) - 118 kudos

Boy, Oh Boy (Critical Role) - 104 kudos

5) Do you respond to comments?

I try to, yes! I will respond in the same energy as whatever the comment is given in. And now that we have the block function, I have no compunction of simply taking commenting privileges away. Manners matter :)

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

Extinguishing the Last Light (FFXIV) is the bad ending AU where the Scions don't succeed in defeating the newly formed Lightwarden after the events of Mt. Gulg, and Estinien gets called to the First. it continues to haunt me and I ended up gposing a scene from it.

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably This Is Home.

8) Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet, but I have gotten a couple of the "moar plz/when are you gonna updaaaaate?" type comments. See above commenting privileges policy.

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

I have exactly one E fic (An Owl In Limsa) that has been published, but the HW fic will also be explicit pretty much right out the gate. I have far, far more smut pieces that are just for me and some friends.

So far, it's just been a single hookup. That's been published. There's. A variance. In my word docs. Some may see the light of day, some may not, only time will tell.

10) Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one you've written?

Eh, not really my thing. It veers a little to close to crack for my tastes.

11) Have you ever had fic stolen?

Not as far as I know. It may sound self deprecating, but I don't think any of my work is good enough to be worth stealing, and certainly none of it is big enough in the fandom to catch the eye of scammers who sell fic on Amazon or whatever.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, not to my knowledge, though if someone were interested I would be happy to discuss!

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have, at least once, yes! I was part of a small group doing a Critical Role AU where Mollymauk was a lost de Rolo child, and we were all taking turns puppeting the M9 and VM with their official character sheets. I kinda miss it sometimes but we all just kinda drifted. Very very fun though, would highly recommend it.

14) What's your all time favourite ship?

I don't really do the whole "this is my Only Ship Ever" thing. I'll have a preferred ship per fandom, but especially since getting into XIV I have fully embraced the motto of "learn to multiship like an adult".

Some favourites include; Caleb/Essek, Caleb/Mollymauk, SoSu/Hancock, Krieg/Maya, Beau/Yasha

15) What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My canon divergent Borderlands 2 AU. Every now and again I'll think about it, and I do have the original outline I wrote for it (past me really did me a solid there) but the fandom drift has hit so hard I really just lost all momentum on it. I don't want to orphan or abandon it because What If Some Day I get back to it, but that day is looking pretty far off.

16) What are your writing strengths?

Characterisation, use of tension, descriptions, call and response/motifs, Show Don't Tell

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

Combat sequences, movement, adverbs, endings? beginnings??? middle?????

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

So I haven't had this problem yet, but it will definitely be happening a lot once I start writing Stormblood stuff, because Kitali speaks fluent Doman as well as Dazkar Xaela, and will be switching between those and Eorzean common quite a bit.

Personally I'm not a fan of having a different formatting for each language (plain for the main language, bold for one, italics for another, underlined for another, etc) and would rather just have a dialogue tag stating what language is being spoken, with a new one each time the language switches.

I also am not a fan of having footnote translations in the author's notes, and would rather just have the actual translation instead of having to either scroll back and forth (annoying and I lose my place) or remembering what was said when and with what context (I have memory problems).

19) First fandom you wrote for?

Borderlands 2

20) Favourite fic you've written?

Of the ones I've published, I think I have to go with Extinguishing the Last Light. It's the one I think about the most often, it's the most evocative (imo) emotionally, and it tells the story it needs to tell in several concurrent layers.

Blank template under the cut

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments?

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

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

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

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favorite fic you've written?

#tagged #not me hand typing all the questions bc i didnt see the template til i was at the bottom #and I use british english spellings anyways lol