my name is jorts | i'm old | they/them started from the bottom (giving half the hankcon fandom a collective santa kink) now we’re here (✨🔮 manifesting: all my homies thirst for wulbren bongle🔮✨)
pairing: hankcon
rated: E
wordcount: 146,904
tags: alternate universe - canon divergence, cryptid hunters, supernatural elements, mutual pining, slow burn, banter, humor, fluff and angst, angst with a happy ending (for more tags, check the ao3 link)
summary:
Hank Anderson is a former police officer with a drinking problem, a car he hasn't cleaned out in three years, and a Quest.
He's looking for Bigfoot; instead he finds Connor.
Connor is a sarcastic piece of deviant shit. He also happens to be an incredibly advanced reconstructive tool who fell into Hank's lap for the price of a little electricity.
That's all.
And that's fine.
***
This fic is not new by any means but I never posted it here and I figured I should because, you know. Twitter. This is the fucking-guy-to-friends-to-lovers, Hankcon-in-the-woods-looking-for-Bigfoot fic that somehow turned into my magnum opus and took me 2 years to write. I would be over the moon if anyone who hasn't read it yet wanted to give it a chance!
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shoutout to everyone in small fandoms who takes a character with one minute of screentime and decides to build an entire universe around them. to the oc creators, the rarepair shippers, the canon-divergence enthusiasts and the people who can’t stop asking “but what if?” and then proceed to spend 50k words answering their own question.
i genuinely think your joy is contagious. fandoms grow because people see someone having fun and think, “wait, i want to play too.” <3
In the past few months, I have become increasingly fascinated by the gnomes in BG3 - specifically the Ironhands. This story was one of my first dives into that corner of lore in Forgotten Realms and in-game that got me hooked.
It's also a look at what it's like to be a NPC in a chaotic durge world.
Also Derryth is there. Because Derryth rules.
It was recently rec'd by the @baldurs-writers-3 "Hidden Gems" list, so here's the opening of the story and a link to the rest
Iron and Stone (7836, Explicit)
Thulla x Stonemason Kith, Thulla & Derryth Bonecloak
Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence, featuring Duergar-typical atrocities against gnomes, background (but in game) major character death, (Smut and Violence do not intersect)
Summary: Stonemason Kith helped Thulla escape from Grymforge, though they disagree on why he did it.
“I heard tell of a wizard tower near here.”
Stonemason Kith watched Thulla with a small smile. The gnome sat across from him, shaggy white hair stark against the black stone of the lava tube, staring out at the water as his kin ran and yelled overhead.
“It’s across the Ebonlake,” he murmured. “You can see it from the water once you get close to the beach, but it’s through a field of torchstalk. A few Flameshades scouted that direction on our way here and didn’t make it back.”
The gnome’s lips pressed into a tight line, though she was still focused on the water. Kith shifted his weight, joints protesting after the hour they’d been waiting in the cramped tube. All they needed was a boat to moor at the dock above so she could stow away, finally be rid of this place and its horrors.
“The tower looks half crumbled down,” he continued quietly. “But I figure someone stealthy and keen might make it past the torchstalk and find some safety.” He glanced at her. “When you make it out, maybe you can go there?”
Thulla met Kith’s gaze calmly and without a hint of fear.
“When I get across that lake, I’m going to start running and ain’t stopping until I see sunlight, Kith. Then I’m never setting eyes on the Underdark or drugnin’ greys ever again.”
The gnome’s lips pressed into a tight line, though she was still focused on the water. Kith shifted his weight, joints protesting after the hour they’d been waiting in the cramped tube. All they needed was a boat to moor at the dock above so she could stow away, finally be rid of this place and its horrors.
“The tower looks half crumbled down,” he continued quietly. “But I figure someone stealthy and keen might make it past the torchstalk and find some safety.” He glanced at her. “When you make it out, maybe you can go there?”
Thulla met Kith’s gaze calmly and without a hint of fear.
“When I get across that lake, I’m going to start running and ain’t stopping until I see sunlight, Kith. Then I’m never setting eyes on the Underdark or drugnin’ greys ever again.”
He felt the venom in her words as he nodded, looking down. “Aye. I don’t fault you for that. But it’s not just getting away from my people; everything about the Underdark is hard. It’s a treacherous place, Thulla, and for svirfneblin—”
“We’re not swirf-neb-leen,” she scowled, “we’re Ironhands.”
“Right, sorry.” Kith propped his elbow on his knee to give his back a slight bit of stretch and leaned his head back against the comfort of the cool, dark stone. “It’s just, running may be the easy solution up on the surface but down here it’s better to hide if you don’t know where you’re going; give yourself a chance to decide what happens next. Otherwise, the Underdark will choose it for you.”
~
She could feel his sad eyes on her, and it made her blood boil. Sitting there and talking about nothing, like looking out for her, being thoughtful and kind meant he wasn’t a part of it all.
But that made him sad, and being sad made him useful.
Getting this far had been easy. Before Wulbren was so focused on that drugnin’ foundry, he’d made sure a few of ‘em learned more ways to fight than just hammers and smoke powder. So she knew how to choose him, make him feel noticed, make him earn it so he’d get attached enough to pull along, then leave him wanting more until she needed to cash him in.
She hated how well it had worked, how easy he’d been to manipulate. She hated how he was careful and soft-spoken, how his breath was still shaking as he went on about nonsense like towers and torchstalk being safe, like they weren’t hiding for their lives from his own kin.
She just needed a boat to moor at the dock. Then she could kill him and hitch a ride with the greys heading across the lake to look for her. After that, she’d just run. That’s all she had to do. It looked like Philomeen got away, so Thulla’d survive as best she could, but the important part was to give the feckers something to chase so the little true believer had half a chance to get their runepowder home.
Footsteps stopped right above their heads, and Kith and Thulla both stilled. Then a sudden splash as a lifeless gnome hit the water, the small body sinking too fast for Thulla to make out features.
It was that evil bastard Gekh and his lackeys. He led a round of jeers about the weak throw, then the lot of them were walking away, boasting loud and cruel about the hunt, what they’d do when they found her, all for stealing a pair of boots. As their footsteps faded, Kith let out a shaky breath.
Thulla stared out into the water, waiting for her boat to come in as the ripples expanded and the surface of the Ebonlake returned to its glassy calm. She didn’t even wonder who that had been. So many of her friends and comrades were at the bottom of that drugnin’ lake now.
“These lava tubes aren’t natural, you know,” Kith said quietly. “They were made by whatever thing ripped this place apart. There are many ruined things in the Underdark, Thulla. Many ruined by duergar ourselves.”
She felt the wave of shame radiate off him, how he suddenly tensed and flushed. It was why they were here. It was why he’d been so useful. She looked up, and he was watching her, searching her face for what? Absolution? Permission?
“It shames me,” he said quietly.
Thulla couldn’t help it. She clenched her teeth and glared. “It should.”
Kith just nodded. He knew; she’d made sure of it. She’d cultivated it.
He looked out at the water. “Your ride’s here.”
She turned, and a boat was slowing as it headed right toward their dock.
“If you go to the tower, Thulla, would you leave a light on?”
“So pricks like Gekh know where to find me? I’ll pass, Kith.”
“No, no,” Kith said, deflating. The duergar leaned his forehead into his palm. “I just—it would gladden me to know you survived.” He looked at her. “Even if all you do is light a brazier and run off to wherever you’d like to be. It’d just be nice to know that someone made it out of this place clean.”
Thulla turned her attention back to the boat, breathing deep as she gripped her knife. “No getting out clean for any of us in this shit-heap, Kith.”
“If anyone should, love,” Kith said quietly. “It’s you.”
When she turned back, she met those sad, kind eyes. Now or never, she thought, grip loosening on her knife.
The boat docked right where she needed it, then Gekh and his whole merry band of bastards loaded on.
Do it now, Thulla thought, as Kith moved to help her up. One last chance, but she wasn’t holding her knife anymore as he lifted her into the rigging between the pontoons. Then he was back in the lava tube, and the boat was pulling away from the dock, and Thulla didn’t know why she let her chance pass.
Read the rest here:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
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shoutout to everyone in small fandoms who takes a character with one minute of screentime and decides to build an entire universe around them. to the oc creators, the rarepair shippers, the canon-divergence enthusiasts and the people who can’t stop asking “but what if?” and then proceed to spend 50k words answering their own question.
i genuinely think your joy is contagious. fandoms grow because people see someone having fun and think, “wait, i want to play too.” <3
it's always interesting to encounter people in fandom who don't seem to understand that interesting characters are not always 100% perfect/make bad decisions/aren't morally pure/etc. look. this isn't my little pony. i don't want a moral lesson, i want an interesting, complex, flawed character.
i like my adult media to have complex, adult characters "that character is irredeemable now because [insert moral failing here]" have you ever made a bad decision? have you ever hurt anyone? have you ever made a mistake? are YOU irredeemable? are YOU not worthy of atonement? what about love?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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everyone should have an unpopular ship in a huge fandom and/or a teeny tiny microfandom at some point in their fannish lives. ideally both. when you've spent some time getting excited because three people commented on your latest fic and you were just hoping for one it's gonna teach you some perspective
@des-no9 birthday is today, and what better time to promote the wonderful DOLL PARTS fic she wrote. A gorgeous blend of cyberpunk low-life and fantasy is a backdrop for people - githyanki, illithids, tieflings, hobgoblins - leading their intertwined lives in a world forever changed by the Arrival
Here are some but definitely not all spot art pics i did for it
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Trying to capture that pleasant summer vibe, while I'm slowly melting away during this not so pleasent heatwave we're currently experiencing with almost 40° C over here 🫠.
