ghost plague (3493 words) by proserpine_in_phases
Chapters: 3/3
Fandom: Danny Phantom
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Relationships: Jack Fenton/Maddie Fenton, female oc & maddie fenton, Jack Fenton & Maddie Fenton & Vlad Masters
Characters: Original Female Character(s), Maddie Fenton, Vlad Masters, Jack Fenton (Danny Phantom)
Additional Tags: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, OC heavy, time to give up the ghost, ha. ha., Pandemics
Summary:
20 years ago Vlad became a very unique sort of creature, and this introduced some very unique risks that had never come to pass. Until now.
I MEANT to post this on halloween for the @goodintentionswipfest and totally wiffed the deadline lmao. anyway. remember ghost plague? all my homies dont remember because I haven't talked about it in like 10 years, but well. time to take it out behind the shed
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honestly? abandoned/on indefinite hiatus/very slow to update fics, even and especially AUs and longfics, are often some of my absolute favorites. and people who refuse to read them are missing out!
for one, stories don’t have to be finished to be enjoyable and worth reading. but also? an unfinished fic is a whole little universe that just keeps on existing in my head! their world stays alive for me in a way that doesn’t always happen with fics I binge read and finish, and i love it. i don’t know how their story ends, so it just keeps going! and even when those stories DO update and finish years later, they’ve been in my head for so long that they stick around like old friends.
so to any author with unfinished works: thank you SO much for sharing what you had without waiting to finish it first. you’re just giving me the gift of getting to spend more time with your story and your idea. if you do update again someday, i’ll be delighted to jump back in! but if you don’t, just know a little piece of your world still lives on in a beloved tiny terrarium in my brain. i promise i’m taking good care of it :)
i don’t normally ask this, but if this resonates with you please reblog it, so it can reach the authors who need to hear it <3
Sorry for the ambiguous title. In keeping with the idea of unburdening yourself (thanks to @goodintentionswipfest), here's a story I haven't worked on since before the COVID-19 pandemic started. I got about 50 pages in and the motivation just disappeared. But since I can't stand the idea of simply deleting it, here's a very cheesy story that will never be finished.
This is the only isekai-type story I've ever written. It centers around Keaton Howell, a college student transported into the Clone Wars in the Star Wars universe and embedded in the 501st to write news articles about the war. She has no knowledge of the Star Wars universe, but this is still very much a "crack taken seriously" type of premise.
I can't stand the idea of posting 25,000 words in a single chapter, so I'm going to split this into a few different parts. I will add this story to my AO3 (under username InkSplots), but it will remain unfinished in all places.
Embed
Eventual Captain Rex x fem!OC story
(Story abandoned before any real romance happens)
Word Count: 5,500
Warnings: CHEESY PLOT, references to functional alcoholism, guilt, aggressive flirtation
Next | Masterlist
---
“Please, come in. Master Windu, Master Kenobi, welcome. Master Yoda, all my gratitude for responding to my humble invitation.” It took every ounce of Palpatine’s considerable strength to keep the disdain and revulsion he felt for the Jedi from appearing on his face or in his manner. He longed to break them, force them down from their self-constructed pedestal, as though their religion was not built on the blood of greater men.
“We would ask what this meeting is about, Chancellor,” Windu said, tone barely skirting the minimum levels of deference acceptable for addressing someone of Palpatine’s prominence.
Palpatine forced himself to appear concerned and regretful. “My most sincere apologies if I’ve interrupted your schedules in any way.”
“Not at all,” Kenobi dismissed, and Palpatine grimaced in his doddering, grandfatherly way through the blatant falsehood.
“It has come to my attention that the citizens of the Inner Rim have grown complacent, a state doubtless brought about by the historic peace reigning on our beloved planet.”
“Been won at the cost of many lives, that peace has,” Yoda reminded stiffly.
Palpatine nodded to concede this point. “I understand that all too well, Master Yoda, but I worry that the average Coruscanti citizen does not. The war is far removed from here and they do not understand that this precious stability could be ended with a single waver on the part of the Jedi.”
Oh, how he longed to witness that waver…
“What do you suggest?” Kenobi asked.
“As it happens, I have discussed the possibilities with my private council and we have invented a solution that is practical yet elegant in its simplicity: the Republic will issue an application of sorts to journalists around the galaxy. If selected, the journalists will accompany the Jedi and their soldiers on different missions with the stipulation that they must agree to write at least one account of their journey each month.”
Having successfully dropped his suggestion into the room, Palpatine was free to sit back and observe the faces of the Jedi. Kenobi seemed shocked into silence, Windu appeared to be too angry to speak, and Yoda was frustratingly difficult to read as ever.
“Thought this through, you have? Many security risks does this offer.” Yoda slowly shook his wide green head as if despairing of this maneuver.
“We believe that the security risks are worth the benefits,” Palpatine insisted firmly. “When the citizens of the Republic read about the heroism and bravery of our men, they will see how strongly we believe in our cause. We do not hide behind machines, nor allow them to fight a war that is rightfully ours.”
“I fear what you propose may have the opposite effect,” Kenobi said, stroking his reddish beard. “I do not claim to have any right to counsel you, but I believe the Republic may read of the clones’s valor and believe us cruel rather than passionate. After all, we are using men to fight a war against droids.”
“I appreciate your counsel,” Palpatine said slowly, gritting his teeth against the heinous lie, “but the decision has already been made. The applications received will be approved by myself and my council, then the lists of journalists and their files will be sent to the Jedi to be divided however you wish.”
“Set on this path, you are, and attempt to dissuade you, we will not,” Yoda said, pushing to his feet. Palpatine savored the sight of his slide to the floor. He had ensured that the only available seats in his office were tall, far too much so for the diminutive Jedi master.
“Chancellor,” Kenobi said smoothly with a deep nod of his head as he stepped out of the office. Windu followed behind, repeating the title through an obviously clenched jaw. For the first time, Palpatine’s smile was genuine.
Kenobi had perfectly summed up Palpatine’s fondest hopes for this little experiment: if the journalists were not killed immediately - a political nightmare, being at fault for the deaths of civilians - their stories would convince the Republic that the armies were cruel and inhumane. The Separatists, for all that they had been painted as villains, used droids to fight. They were not risking lives or the health and safety of sentient beings on what many felt was a pointless war.
Yes, despite the outcome, Palpatine felt confident that the Republic would sustain a fatal blow to its ever-expanding ego. With a contented sigh that slipped through lips still curved in a self-satisfied smirk, he looked over the datapad currently displaying the advertisement that would soon be auto-translated into every known language and transmitted to every corner of the galaxy.
Are you a writer? Would you like the chance to travel to systems unknown? To support the Republic by sharing stories with its citizens? Apply to accompany a division of the GAR as they fight for freedom against the Separatists. Earn credits and experience! Apply today!
---
Do you like to write? Would you like the chance to travel to far-off places? To support freedom by sharing stories with citizens? Accompany a GAR division as they fight for freedom against those who would divide us. Earn credit and experience! Apply today!
Keaton read the advertisement once, then again. It may be the typical blur of her alcohol-addled mind, but she could swear it was asking her to travel and write for some group she’d never heard of. And the part about earning credit? Her advisor had been urging her to choose an internship… It was a necessary part of her degree. Maybe she should apply.
Still, who or what was the GAR? Slowly, painstakingly, she tapped the three letters into the search bar at the top of another tab. The answer flickered up brightly enough to make her blink stupidly at the screen, but it was clear enough: Georgia Auto Racing.
Keaton didn’t care much about cars, but she could fake it to earn the required credits, right? And there was the promise of travel. She hadn’t seen too much of the world, and even less of it since she’d been buried in homework for her courses. She didn’t really know who would ‘seek to divide’ an auto-racing division, but who cared? She had a healthy love of drama and any conflict would give excellent edge to an article.
And there was the biggest problem. Keaton wasn’t a writer. She had written a few things, sure, but that was a long time ago, before her life had been eaten by a neverending succession of papers and bio labs.
What the hell? She would do it. With a few tries - and a number of suggestions from auto-complete - Keaton’s application was sent away, a few paragraphs of a story she had written for her Composition II class attached to the bottom.
After seeing the ‘Application Complete’ screen, Keaton stumbled to the door, pulled it open, and exclaimed loudly to her roommates, “Hey, guys! I just applied for an internship!”
Drunken cheers accompanied her pronouncement and her best friend Jacey offered to open a new bottle of tequila in celebration. Keaton considered this carefully, but shook her head. “Let’s wait and see if I get it first.”
---
“Well? How do the applicants look?” Anakin asked Obi-Wan lowly as they gathered in a large chamber in the Jedi Temple.
“Most appear highly competent, but there are a few who seem… less than qualified,” Obi-Wan replied. “More concerning is that the list appears to be tailored to exactly meet the number of Jedi generals.”
“How is that concerning, exactly?”
“Because it means that every person on this list will accompany a Jedi and their division of troops. There are no refusals or other options.”
“Great,” Ahsoka groaned. “What do you want to bet that we’ll be stuck with the unqualified one?”
“As it happens-”
“You can’t be serious, Obi-Wan,” Anakin complained. “How have you already decided this?”
“Nothing has been decided, my impatient friend,” Obi-Wan hastened to assure him. “The applicants will be divided in just a moment. The Jedi choose their journalists in order of seniority in the Jedi order. We will comb through the list in its entirety, take notes, and then make our choices. Master Yoda will choose first, naturally.”
“Naturally, and as the most recently-appointed general, I get the applicants who are left,” Anakin summarized.
“That is a terrible way to see it, Anakin,” Obi-Wan admonished.
“And how else am I supposed to see this?”
Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder. “I believe we are starting.”
“Of course we are. Convenient as always,” Anakin complained, exchanging a grim look with Ahsoka.
The applicants were diverse in species, but uniform in background almost to a disturbing degree. All were from the Inner Rim and had strong journalistic portfolios. Some specialized in writing action, others wrote pieces that broke hearts, still others were known for their accurate and factual representations of convoluted situations. There was only one true outlier:
“Keaton Howell, a female from Earth,” Mace Windu announced.
“Earth?” Obi-Wan repeated. “How is this possible?”
“It appears that the Chancellor sent his application everywhere in the known universe and it was accidentally sent to the next galaxy over. This woman found it on Earth’s equivalent of the Holonet and applied.”
“Her participation is impossible,” Plo Koon said in his slow, methodical way. “Travel between the galaxies would require far too much time, especially considering the somewhat unreliable nature of intra-galactic hyperspace.”
“The Chancellor claims that Republic scientists have developed a method of transporting her here, faster and more safely than traditional transport,” Mace replied after exchanging a long look with Yoda.
“She must be special indeed if he wants to undergo this process to bring her here,” Kit Fisto boomed out, flashing his famous smile.
“Not precisely,” Yoda refuted. “Have professional journalism experience, she does not. But possess much natural skill, she does. Here, a sample of her writing, you may see.”
A block of text appeared beside the picture of the human female, rotating slowly to allow the entire chamber to read it.
“An interesting addition, to be sure,” Obi-Wan said. “And surely she was chosen for a reason.”
“Moving on,” was Mace’s only response.
At the end of the presentation of candidates, Ahsoka quickly compiled their list of notes into a comprehensive ranking, but Anakin knew it wouldn’t matter. One by one, the Jedi generals spoke for their favorite journalists until only one remained.
“And with that, journalist Keaton Howell will be assigned to you, Skywalker.”
“Your journalists will arrive early tomorrow afternoon. Please be ready to greet them before they move into their debriefing sessions.”
The Jedi took the unspoken dismissal for what it was and moved from the chamber, the only noise coming from quiet conversations between one or two people. When Anakin and Ahsoka left the chamber, they found Captain Rex waiting patiently outside.
He straightened when he saw them, helmet tucked neatly beneath one arm. “Well? Did we get someone good?”
“No,” Ahsoka answered immediately, and Anakin could only give a grunt of agreement.
---
Keaton stepped out of the building where her evening Statistics class took place. The class had ended nearly an hour before, but she had stayed after to request extra assistance from her professor. It hadn’t helped, and now she was slowly walking across a desolately empty parking lot on the way to her car. Why had she ever thought that a night math class was a good idea? Why had she chosen a major that required Statistics? More importantly, why was it so bright in this parking lot? There really weren’t that many security lights.
Shrugging off the oddly-bright sky - had there always been so many constellations? She really should take an astronomy class at some point - Keaton couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Determinedly, she increased the pace to her car and tensed for a fight if the situation came down to it. Terrible things happened on college campuses every day.
After making it to her car without incident, Keaton turned on the engine and locked the doors, checking the backseat to assuage her paranoia. Nothing was there. She chuckled softly, though there was a tense edge to the sound that she couldn’t quite stifle. She just wanted to get home, see her roommates, and get wine drunk. It was the start of the weekend and there was nothing else to look forward to except homework and crappy cable.
As she readied to put the car in drive, Keaton remembered her internship application and wondered if she would ever be officially denied or if she would simply never hear back. It was the last conscious thought she had on her world.
When she woke, Keaton squinted into the bright lights. Okay, they really weren’t that bright, but give a girl a break. She had just woken up and - from the pounding headache - was already on the verge of a beastly hangover. Or so she thought. After glancing around and seeing a number of people who were markedly not human, Keaton came to the conclusion that she was still drunk - and maybe drugged. She turned to her side, clutching at her head while a group of people watched her with concern.
“Fuck! Wine drunk is a pain, you know that? What the hell kind of alcohol makes you feel hungover while you’re still drunk?”
There was no reply, at least, not one that she understood. Keaton heard the sounds of speech in what was presumably another language and frowned. Where exactly was she? Drunk Keaton liked to wander, but never across countries.
Her head was grasped firmly before she could do anything. With a turn to each side, a single drop of cold liquid was placed in each of her ears. The drops trickled their way deeper, seeming to grow even more chilled as they rolled toward her brain.
“Ugh, what was that? Who are you people?”
When they moved to turn her head forward once more, she pulled away from their grasp. "No! Let go of me!"
They spoke to her in nonthreatening tones, but Keaton couldn't understand them and so paid no attention. Instead, she struggled fiercely, tugging at the straps binding her to the soft bed beneath.
"Let me go! Get away from me!"
The first being who got too close received a swift punch to what Keaton assumed was his nose. He reeled back and she resumed working on the straps. The next attack, when it came, was far more organized. Two grabbed her arms while another restrapped her legs and the final one controlled her head.
Between her own bursts of shouting, Keaton could hear the strange language shifting oddly back and forth before finally settling on being understandable. "-en will the serum take root?"
"Any minute now," the one at Keaton's head said in perfectly-understandable English.
"What serum?" she asked, and they paused to look down at her newly-calm tone.
"What did she say?"
"I'm not sure; she isn't speaking any language I've ever heard."
"Just affix the other under her tongue and she'll speak Basic."
Her new understanding was helpful, but Keaton couldn't help but struggle as they forced her mouth open and pressed a small dot under her tongue. It was thin and flexible, but Keaton couldn't fight a grimace.
"What the fuck?" she repeated after clicking her tongue a few times to make sure nothing had been wrecked.
The beings around her straightened and grinned broadly. "It was a success."
"What was a success?" she asked, struggling to keep her temper.
"The language drops and chip, of course. You are now speaking and - I assume - understanding our language."
"Yep. Mm-hmm. Cool. But why am I here?"
The self-appointed leader seemed confused by the question. "I- We were given to understand that you had applied for this opportunity."
"I applied for a writing internship, not some kind of psych experiment!"
"I believe this is where I step in," a new voice said from behind her.
The beings who had applied the language stuff buried themselves with unstrapping her legs as Keaton noted the man approaching her and, as he seemed fully human, quickly dismissed him again in favor of observing the room.
She was sitting in the middle of a large, metal-constructed building filled with groups of two or three people. Many of them looked strange in diverse ways; humanoid, but not fully human.
Keaton normally would have felt guilty for staring, but she was receiving as many glances as she gave. It seemed that her previous panic had been seen and heard by most of the room. She didn't give a shit. She would like to see these beings after they had been kidnapped and woken up by a group of strangers.
The man, now standing fully in front of her, said, "I am General Anakin Skywalker of the Grand Army of the Republic. You will be accompanying my men and myself for the next month."
With a dry laugh, Keaton shook her head. “You know what? I think I’d like to withdraw my application.”
Skywalker frowned and it sat oddly on his face. Keaton got the feeling that he was far more comfortable smiling than being upset. Nevertheless, his light eyes were filled with fire and determination, his face expressive and frustrated. “Why did you apply if you didn’t want the position?”
“The application said travel and write to earn credit. Not anything about…” she trailed off, realizing that any description she attempted was going to make her sound utterly insane. “This.”
“Credits, as in multiple, though you shouldn’t be doing it for the money,” a new voice said, much younger and female.
Keaton turned, then blinked at the new arrival to the conversation. Her skin was orange, patterned with strange white markings that drew attention to the ones that stretched across the blue… thing on her head. “What are- wait, that’s rude. Where am I? That’s the real question.”
“You are in a side hangar of the Grand Army of the Republic,” Skywalker said. “In the larger sense, you’re on Coruscant.”
“What the hell is a Coruscant?” Keaton asked, her frustration seeping into her voice.
The two exchanged glances. “Have you never left your planet?” the female asked, somewhat derisively.
Keaton stared at them for a long moment before giving a rather disbelieving laugh. Airily, she answered, “No, as it happens, I’ve never left. I’m not sure why. There’s a whole galaxy out there to see!” She dropped the tone and stared at Skywalker and the orange female with exasperation. “Leaving Earth isn’t really something most people do. Not that I believe I’m not on Earth right now.”
“You think you haven’t left your planet?” Skywalker asked. “Our intelligence said that there are only humans on Earth and this room is filled with other species.”
“Fancy costumes, makeup, and Hollywood movie effects,” Keaton said dismissively. “Is this Jacey? Did she sign me up for Punk’d or something? Probably something still on-the-air, but you get the gist.”
“What?” Skywalker asked with a frown, not seeming to get the gist at all.
“You think this is makeup?” the female asked, running a hand along the blue thing on her head and down one of the ends. She then rubbed vigorously at her cheeks and showed her orange fingers to Keaton.
“Really strong makeup,” Keaton muttered. “Maybe some kind of dye.”
Skywalker laughed his irritation. “I cannot believe we have to explain that we’re on Coruscant. What would it take to convince you?”
Keaton puzzled that over for a while. “Can you show me something that would be impossible on Earth?”
Skywalker glanced over at the female. “Ahsoka?”
The female - presumably Ahsoka - pulled a white cylinder from her waist and held it slightly behind her. With an odd sound, a light began emanating from it and she twirled it forward to hold it closer to Keaton. Keaton studied it carefully. It seemed almost like a green laser, but the beam reached a certain point and then just… stopped. She had fallen asleep during more science classes than she had paid attention to, but that wasn’t supposed to be possible.
When she carefully moved her hand closer to the light, Skywalker warned, “Don’t touch the blade.”
“Not my first instinct,” Keaton assured him, especially since she could already feel heat against her palm several inches away. “It’s cool, really cool, but not technically impossible on Earth.”
“How about this?” Skywalker held a hand away from himself and the cylinder at his own waist flew into his grip without being touched.
Keaton shook her head, becoming less and less certain that this was a truly incredible prank. “Could be special effects. Cutting-edge special effects… ones never seen in a movie... “ She met Skywalker’s gaze and shifted enough to pull her cellphone out of her back pocket. “Do something with this. That way it isn’t something you’ve had the chance to set up.”
Skywalker obligingly extended a hand in her direction and the phone lifted gently from her grip, raising six inches or so to hover above her palm, rotating slowly. Keaton nodded, scarcely able to breathe, and the familiar weight of her phone was returned to her.
“Okay, I believe you about being somewhere in space. Somewhere with weird wizard powers, at that. But what do you need with writers?”
“It’s a long story, but we’re in a war right now-” Skywalker started.
“Can you give me a short summary of the war?” Keaton interrupted. “I need to know what I’m potentially getting myself into.”
“There are a group of planets attempting to secede from our collective government,” Ahsoka explained.
“So why not let them?”
“Because they aren’t peacefully withdrawing,” Skywalker added. “They don’t just want to secede, they want to force other planets to come with them, willing or not. They attack trade and travel routes, infiltrate planets, and generally wage war on the civilian populace.”
“Okay, that’s a problem,” Keaton agreed.
“So, the Jedi - that’s us - lead groups of soldiers who fight against these Separatists and help free planets from their control,” Ahsoka finished.
“So you Jedi are, what, special military operatives or something?”
“We’re a religious order who have the ability to tap into the Force, the power that allowed me to lift your… droid,” Skywalker told her.
Stifling a grin at such a technologically-advanced society not knowing about cell phones, Keaton said, “You guys don’t have any kind of rules governing the intersection of church and state, huh?”
“What?” Ahsoka asked, clearly puzzled.
“Nothing,” she said. Keaton didn’t pay overly much attention in her American Government class, but she knew civic policy. “Okay, and the writers?”
“We’re having a bit of trouble keeping civilian support for the war. The leader of our government has decided that it would help if we took journalists along on our missions and they could give better updates about the war effort,” Skywalker finished.
“You’ve made an embed program,” Keaton summed up.
“We don’t know what that means,” Ahsoka bit out.
“On my planet, journalists occasionally travel along with military units to write about their experiences. They’re called embedded reporters. It’s largely considered to be an ineffective program.”
“Well, we’re still trying it,” Skywalker said sharply. “Will you come with us?”
“No.”
“No?” echoed Skywalker and Ahsoka.
“No. I’m not going to sprint into a war that I know nothing about to participate in a program that I know has been a failure in the past.” Keaton shrugged. “Sorry to have wasted your time.”
“How can you refuse to do something so simple for the sake of the Republic?”
“Because I don’t belong to it,” Keaton replied simply. “Do you know what I thought GAR stood for on the application? Georgia Auto Racing. I have no interest in being a part of this. I have no motivation to do so.”
“The lives of hundreds of men?” Ahsoka pointed out, voice stinging. “Isn’t that motivation enough?”
“What does my presence have to do with saving lives? I’ll just be sitting on the sidelines watching men die. Not my forte.”
“We have good men fighting for us!” Skywalker snapped. “Men you could help.”
“Yes, I’m sure your men are wonderful people. Just like the ones on the other side,” Keaton explained.
“There are no men on the other side,” Ahsoka told her.
“No-? Then who are you fighting?”
“The Separatists use droids, machines that fight their battles. Our soldiers have been bred in a lab, cloned especially for battle.” Skywalker met her gaze directly, “They’re real people.”
“Wait, you use an army of cloned men to fight on your side? Ones with personalities and feelings and such?” Keaton asked, filled with tension she couldn’t quite explain.
“Yes,” Ahsoka affirmed.
“Then, I’m sorry, I think you guys are in the wrong,” Keaton said.
“What?!” both asked, clearly horrified.
“My apologies, but perhaps I can be of some assistance?”
Yet another new arrival. Keaton was starting to feel like the life of the party. The man appeared to be human with reddish hair and a well-trimmed beard. He wore a light-colored outfit with touches of armor at vulnerable points. He was trailed by a tall, purple-skinned being with two long tentacle-things hanging from his head. Keaton wondered vaguely if he was the same species as Ahsoka, but he was all purple, without any markings or the thing on top of his head.
“Obi-Wan,” Skywalker greeted, anger making his voice tight. “My journalist here doesn’t seem to support the Republic cause.”
Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that so? Here, Anakin, Ahsoka, I would like you to meet my journalist, Vak DaCog. Perhaps you should step away and get better acquainted. There is a significant likelihood that we’ll be working together at some point.”
Shooting her a dark look, Skywalker and Ahsoka stepped away with the tall alien, who glanced back with triumph in his eyes. Keaton fought not to react before focusing on Obi-Wan.
“Hello, Miss Howell. I am Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
“How did you know my name?” Keaton asked suspiciously.
“We were all very interested to hear that this endeavor would include a journalist from Earth. Travel between our galaxies has been difficult before, but the Chancellor assures us that this new process offers a variety of benefits.”
“I haven’t been told anything about all of that,” Keaton said. “But the only thing I care about is how easy it will be for me to go back. I’m not interested in staying.”
“Is that so?” Obi-Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully. “If I may ask, what is your specific issue with this program?”
“I honestly think you guys are in the wrong,” Keaton said bluntly. “You use real men, created in a lab and forced to fight. The other guys - for all that they don’t sound great, either - use robots. Droids, whatever. You’re sending real men off to die.”
“Exactly, and that is why we need your help.”
“What?” Keaton asked, stunned by whatever logic he had used to come to that conclusion.
“These men are real. They are individual beings with very little choice. Many of them enjoy the work of being soldiers, but they are expensive to create and subject to flaws, as is every being, naturally created or not. The Senate, our governing body, is reluctant to allocate more funds for weapons, protective gear, updated transportation, and so on. The people don’t understand the sacrifices that these men are making, and so, the senators have no push from the citizens to support the army’s efforts.”
Keaton sighed. “I understand what you’re saying, I really do, but I can’t be part of a system like this, one that is sending hundreds or even thousands of men to their deaths.”
Obi-Wan nodded. “If I cannot convince you, then I shall go to the Chancellor myself to see about your return journey.”
“Really?”
“Of course. We will not force an unwilling journalist to accompany us into a situation that, by nature, will include a certain amount of danger. However, I will leave you with this: Whether you remain here or not, those men are going to be sent out. They will fight the enemy despite how prepared or unprepared they are. Your presence here could do little other than to improve the situation.”
With that, the man gave a sad sort of smile and moved back toward the others, leaving Keaton to think over the situation. She didn’t want to stay. Wars weren’t her thing. Too sad. If she stayed, she would get to know the soldiers and have to face the consequences of them dying. It would break her heart. Still, as she stood and approached the small group standing respectfully away from her cot, Keaton couldn’t help but note how happy they all seemed together. Skywalker and the pleasant Obi-Wan seemed to share some kind of kinship while Ahsoka… She looked startlingly pretty when she actually smiled. Even Vak, despite his smarmy attitude, wore a broad grin.
As she moved closer, Skywalker caught sight of her and grew solemn once more. “So, if she goes home, does the 501st just not have a journalist?”
Obi-Wan hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps one of the others could bounce between divisions? I am certain that the Chancellor would want your men to be represented in these stories he has planned.”
“I would be happy to offer my services,” Vak interjected with a smug smile. “It would be a genuine honor to work with not one, but two highly-distinguished Jedi and one of the brightest Jedi padawans of our time.”
“No need, Vuk,” Keaton dismissed. “I’ll do it.”
“It’s- It’s Vak, actually,” he said.
“You sure? You look more like a Vuk. Has a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you agree?” Keaton asked, childishly hoping she could call him something so close to a swear word.
“So you want to stay? What changed?” Skywalker asked.
Keaton shrugged. “Master Kenobi is very persuasive. Besides, I already went through the trouble of getting the drops and chip so I could understand your language. I wouldn’t want all of that to go to waste.”
Skywalker shot a confused look at Obi-Wan, who explained quietly, “New translation technology. Earth doesn’t speak Basic.”
“Oh. Anyway, welcome aboard,” Skywalker said, sounding as though she weren’t entirely welcome.
“Thanks,” she replied, sounding as though she weren’t entirely thankful.
“I assume the pleasantries mean you’re done disturbing the peace of my hangar?”
Keaton turned to find a man in red armor directly behind her. “Your hangar?”
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Miss Howell, please meet Commander Fox.”
“Nice to meet you and I’m sorry about the commotion,” Keaton apologized, offering her hand for an introductory shake.
He ignored it completely and spoke directly to Skywalker. “I expect you’ll keep her under control, sir?”
Keaton narrowed her eyes at him. One, she didn’t like to be ignored. Two, she didn’t like for people to talk about her in third person. Three, she didn’t appreciate him acting like Skywalker was completely in charge of everything she would do. Four, she really didn’t like to be ignored.
“Hey. Hey,” she repeated when he didn’t respond. The helmet turned toward her incrementally and she nodded at it. “Why don’t you take that off?”
“Excuse me?”
She couldn’t see his eyes, but she could practically feel them narrowing. “Tall, confident guy like you? I’ll bet you’ve got something nice going on under there.” He pulled back slightly as she gave an exaggerated wink. “Fox? More like Foxy, am I right?”
A sound came through the helmet speakers, one which could have been a sigh. “Just keep the noise level down, civilian.”
“And if I don’t, what will you do?” she asked, stepping closer so she could stare up into the heavily-tinted visor. “Are you gonna arrest me? Take me for private questioning?”
“I- I might,” he said, stammering once but quickly recovering.
“Promise? I looove handcuffs.” She made the purr/growling noise that always put Jacey in absolute stitches. Fox’s reaction was - if possible - even better. He jumped back, saluted the Jedi while offering a quick set of excuses, and left.
“What was that?” Ahsoka asked, sounding distinctly unimpressed with Keaton and the way she had thrown the Commander off-balance.
She shrugged. “It’s the only way to deal with guys like that. Did you see him scurry off? Classic!”
A new voice came over the crowd. “All journalists, please report to debriefing. Report to the nearest GAR representative for directions.”
“Well, sounds like we’re off!” Keaton offered a sincere nod to Obi-Wan. “Jedi Master Kenobi.” A sarcastic salute to Skywalker. “General.” Purposefully awkward finger guns at Ahsoka. “Some rank, I’m sure.”
Vak caught up with her after only seconds, tugging at her arm to get her attention. Keaton stared up at him, unimpressed. “You should probably stay with me. You need someone to help you figure out life somewhere other than Earth.”
“Ya know, I think I can handle it,” she said dismissively, pushing pointedly past his detaining hand. Commander Fox stood unobtrusively to the side, but she locked onto him and gave a piercing wolf whistle as she passed, blatantly looking him up and down. He left before she finished.
As she walked purposefully toward an official-looking female with a clipboard and a name badge, she heard Obi-Wan say, “At least she’s making friends.”
---
Author's Note - I'm not rereading these very closely, so I'm not editing them and the warnings/tags might not be as clear as they probably should be. If you catch something major that should be noted in the warnings or tags, please let me know!
I think Keaton was my attempt at a funny protagonist. I'm not blessed with an easy sense of humor, so it's, uh... a little rough.
Also, (for some reason) I distinctly remember typing GAR into a search engine with no Star Wars search terms and the Georgia Auto Racing Hall of Fame was the first result. Hence it's inclusion here. I'm not trying to shill for Georgia's racing community or anything.
Pretend you said “trick or treat!” And I handed you this
A scene from chapter 6 of @mysterycyclone’s Divergent Point: action shot edition! This is that thing I mentioned to you once and said I’d toootally finish. Ahaha.
I worked on this for a couple weeks in September 2024, and nothing since. But! Good Intentions! No guilt! Just because I stopped working on it doesn’t mean it doesn’t deserve to be seen.
So, this is the scene where Peter kicks mind-controlled Superman in the jaw and through the ballroom window, initiating the fight. I believe this was my favorite chapter back then because I was so hungry for Peter’s identity to finally be revealed, and we get to see him beat up Superman?! It’s such an awesome chapter.
I used the description of the batsuit and utility belt from DM to design his suit:
Utility belt from Dark Matter that Nightwing gave to him: It’s blood red, and the buckle has the image of a spider across it; the legs are elongated and sharp
The bat suit from Dark Matter: At the end of the row, a sleek black and red suit with large, pronounced white eyes stands inside a clear glass case. A black belt is slung across the hips and matte black gauntlet web shooters are clamped around the suit’s forearms. The chest is covered by a thin, sharp angled spider emblem against a blood red chest, the black legs meshing with the black fabric of the arms and hips.
Peter’s mask expression is neutral as he’s focused on the fight, and because I thought squinty angry eyes would be a bit too on the nose. I put the bat symbol on his boot because you can’t tell me that Bruce could’ve restrained himself. He’s nothing if not fanatical about branding.
For coloring, Clark’s eyes would have been glowing blue as he’s being controlled by the mind stone. The plate glass would’ve been a light cream. I figured out way too late that this is happening MIDDAY, and proceeded to agonize about how I can’t do dramatic night lighting anymore. Creative liberty? Who is that?
Though it’s not finished it’s still awesome! And definitely the largest scale drawing I’ve ever done. Enjoy!
A single day in the life of Kageyama Tobio and Hinata Shoyo, married for years, settled into a routine.
Rated T, ~2k
I was planning on releasing this as part of @goodintentionswipfest - it sat in my drafts at about 700 words for a long, long time. But then, I spent so much time thinking about it this month that I ended up just... writing a little more. Now I think I'd call it finished, even though it is just a short lil guy.
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Welcome to the Multifandom Shelter for Abandoned Fics - a place where your WIP can find a new home
Do you have abandoned WIPs that you wish somebody would finish?
Did you leave a fandom before you could complete your fics?
Did you start writing an amazing story but feel like you're not the best person to tell it?
Or maybe you are a writer who is looking for a new challenge?
Do you feel the desire to write but are fresh out of ideas?
Do you enjoy collaborative writing excercises?
Why not visit the shelter for abandoned fics? Here you can surrender the WIPs that have been weighing you down and pick up new stories for you to work on and/or finish.
If this sounds interesting to you, check out this post that explains how it works in detail.
Hello everyone! It is October, and that means it is time to start spreading the word about Good Intentions WIPFest, the one-day celebration period where you free yourself from your abandoned WIPs!
What is this?
Good Intentions WIPFest is an event I've been running since 2020 that is basically an amnesty day to post your abandoned and unfinished WIPs with no intention of ever finishing them. Basically, it's a chance to free yourself! A chance to acknowledge that no, this story idea isn't going anywhere, but that doesn't mean no one deserves to read it!
Some of my own favorite stories are abandoned WIPs (I have a deep, deep love for a LOTR fic that hasn't been updated since 2005, which I first read in 2017, and which ends on a tearjerking cliffhanger) and I know there are others like me. Good Intentions is a chance to feed those people and free yourself of some of those skeletons in your closet. On All Hallows' Eve, let your ghosts be free. :)
What do I do?
A fuller event description is here, but the answer is simple: post your WIPs! Fic, art, and any other medium is welcome. Here's what that will look like:
On Halloween, post whatever you have that you want to go out into the world. If you post to AO3, there is a collection specifically for the fest.
Post to Tumblr and mention @goodintentionswipfest, or tag "good intentions wipfest" or "good intentions 2025" so I can find and reblog it.
The one rule is, if you post to AO3, use the "Unfinished Work - Abandoned and Discontinued" tag, or in some other way tag your work as unfinished and not going to be finished. We want to give you a chance to free yourselves, yes, but it's kindest to both you and your readers to manage expectations.
If you're interested, check out what other people are posting and see if it's something you'd like to read! You might find your new favorite fics.
Enjoy the sense of freedom!
Oh, and - leading up to Halloween, please share this widely so more people know about it! :)
Looking forward to seeing what you all have to share! Drop me an ask at this blog or at my main (@roselightfairy) if you have any questions!
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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An attempt at aggregating the events I’ve seen. Not affiliated with any event organizers. Key: ☼ Writing - ♥ Reading. (Updated: 2/4/25)
JANUARY
All Month :
♥ - FaFiCoWriMo / Fanfic Comment Writing Month ( @faficowrimo )
Challenge: Comment on every fic you read during the month of January
☼ - Whumpuary ( @whumpuary )
Daily whump-themed writing prompts
Last Two Weeks of January :
☼ / ♥ - Genuary ( @genuary-fic-event )
Authors / readers share favored Gen fics on social media & add them to the annual Genuary AO3 collection
FEBRUARY
All Month :
☼ - February Ficlet Challenge ( @februaryficletchallenge)
Write a 200+ word ficlet based of the daily surprise prompt. Comes with a yearly ao3 collection.
☼ / ♥ - Femslash February
Event celebrating femslash pairings. Participate by writing, reading, commenting on, and recommending femslash fics. Applicable works can be added to the open ao3 collection and tagged with #femslash february
☼ / ♥ - Femslash February Celebrates Black Women
Under the Femslash February umbrella, this event celebrates Black History Month and uses the additional '#femslash february celebrates black women' & '#ffcbw' tags.
☼ - FebuWhump ( @febuwhump )
A month of creating whump works guided by a daily prompt list.
☼ - Feveruary ( @feveruary )
A month of sickfic-based writing prompts.
☼ - Kinkuary ( @kinkuary )
A month of kink-based creative writing prompts.
February 10th - 14th :
☼ - FicWIP's "Hey, Sweetheart" Challenge - ( @ficwip )
Challenge: Use the pet name "sweetheart" in fic or art.
February 15th :
☼ / ♥ - International Fanworks Day / IFD
Celebrates fanwork and has a new general theme every year. Hosted by the OTW, they usually run a week of events to celebrate which (can) include: essay calls, surveys, drabble challenges, games & trivia, along with the annual feedback fest post which solicits 10 fic recs based of the prompt of the year. Applicable works can use the ao3 tag.
MARCH
All Month :
☼ - FicWIP's Level Up Challenge - ( @ficwip )
Running through all of February & March, this challenge asks you to pick an aspect of your chosen creative craft you'd like to improve on and see that goal through.
☼ - Multiamory March ( @polyamships )
Create daily polyam-themed work with an optional prompt list and submit to the ao3 collection.
☼ - Do-May-Stic ( @domaystic )
Daily domestic-themed writing prompts. Includes a yearly ao3 collection.
☼ - MerMay
A month of mermaid-themed creative prompts. While perhaps more widely used by visual artists, AO3 has thriving yearly tags for the event.
☼ - Whumpay ( @whumpay )
Daily whump-themed writing prompts
JUNE
All Month :
☼ / ♥ - Gen Work June ( @genworkjune )
Authors / readers share favored Gen fics on social media & add them to the AO3 collection. Writing prompts also available.
♥ - Fanfic Summer Reading Program (Northern Hemisphere) ( @ao3commentoftheday )
A summer-long challenge to encourage people to read and interact with a variety of fics. Mostly self-guided, but comes with a number of attractive achievement badges.
☼ -AU-gust / Alternate Universe August ( @augustwritingchallenge )
Daily AU-themed writing prompts. Comes with yearly ao3 collection.
☼ - Fic WIP 5k - ( @ficwip5k )
Challenge: Write a complete AU for any fandom in 5,000 words or less.
☼ - Writer's Month ( @writersmonth )
Daily fiction writing prompts. Offers personalized badges at the end and has a yearly ao3 collection.
August 21st :
♥ - Fanfiction Author Appreciation Day
A day to celebrate your favorite fic authors, customarily by commenting on their work, sending a nice message to their ask box, and/or mentioning them in a rec post with the '#Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day' & '#FFWAD' tags.
SEPTEMBER
All Month :
☼ - Sapphic September ( @sapphic-september )
Daily sapphic prompts with a yearly ao3 collection.
☼ - Sicktember ( @sicktember )
Daily sickfic prompts with a yearly ao3 collection.
☼ - Tropetember ( @tropetember )
Daily prompts based off popular fanfic tropes (5+1, one bed, etc.) with a yearly ao3 collection.
1st Week :
☼ - Trick or Treat Exchange (Begins)
Annual fic/fanart exchange for hosted on ao3. Prep/sign-ups begin in September, and fics are revealed on Oct. 31st to the annual ao3 collection.
2nd Week:
☼ - Yuletide Secret Santa (Begins)( @yuletidetreasure )
Annual fic exchange for rare/obscure fandoms hosted on ao3. Prep/sign-ups begin in fall, and fics are revealed on Dec. 25th.
September 15th :
♥ - Comment Day ( @comment-day )
Pick 1+ fics and leave a detailed, personalized comment.
OCTOBER
All Month :
☼ [BLANK]-ober Daily Writing Challenges
In the spirit of inktober, a drawing challenge that encourages artists to draw start and finish a small drawing daily, often guided by prompts, many creative-writing-centric events have sprung up. Some are more self-directed than others.
☼ - Fictober ( @fictober-event ) - general fiction writing prompts
☼ - Flufftober ( @flufftober ) - fluff-based prompts
☼ - Kinktober - kink-based prompts
☼ - OC-tober - Make art about your OCs daily
☼ - OTP-tober - Make art about your OTP daily
☼ - Whumptober ( @whumptober ) - whump-based prompts
Final Week of October :
♥ - Just Leave a Comment Fest ( @justleaveacommentfest )
Challenge: leave as many comments as possible. Each day comes with an optional reading theme. Mini-events are often run throughout the year.
☼ / ♥ - FicWIP's Ship Week - ( @ficwip )
Multifandom week of celebrating shipping. Includes a week of writing prompts and a support bingo board for non-writers.
October 31st :
☼ - Good Intentions WIP Fest ( @goodintentionswipfest)
A day for celebrating/sharing/posting abandoned WIPS by submitting them to the ao3 collection. Let's give the dead a proper send off.
☼ - Trick or Treat Exchange (Revealed)
Annual fic/fanart exchange hosted on ao3. Prep/sign-ups begin in September, and fics are revealed on Oct. 31st to the annual ao3 collection.
NOVEMBER
All Month :
☼ - Novella November ( @novella-november )
Challenge: Write 30,000 words.
☼ - Rough Draft Month ( @roughdraftmonth )
Challenge: Bring a creative project to completion alongside of other creatives doing the same. Comes with different levels of word-count goals and a flex goal option.
DECEMBER
All Month :
☼ - Hurtcember ( @hurtcember )
Daily whump-themed writing prompts
♥ - Zero Comment Challenge ( @polizwrites )
Challenge: Comment on one or more works with zero comments.
♥ - Fanfic Summer Reading Program (Southern Hemisphere) ( @ao3commentoftheday )
A summer-long challenge to encourage people to read and interact with a variety of fics. Mostly self-guided, but comes with a number of attractive achievement badges.
December 13th - 25th :
☼ - 12 Days of [Blank]
Old fandom tradition of doing daily prompts in the 12 days leading up to Christmas. Some are more self-directed than others.
☼ - 12 Days of Christmas ( @12daysofchristmas ) - 12 days of holiday/winter-themed writing prompts.
☼ - Fluffmas - 12 days of fluff, #fluffmas
☼ - Kinkmas - 12 days of kink, #kinkmas
☼ - Smutmas - 12 days of smut, #smutmas
December 25th :
☼ - Yuletide Secret Santa (Revealed)( @yuletidetreasure )
Annual fic exchange for rare/obscure fandoms hosted on ao3. Prep/sign-ups begin in fall, and fics are revealed on Dec. 25th to the annual ao3 collection.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
a WIP I have finally released into the wild for @goodintentionswipfest -- yes, I'm posting this a little late, but I suppose better late than never is exactly in the spirit (hah) of this fest
Fandom: Kinnporsche the series
Ship: Kinn/Porsche
Words: 2.5k
Rating: Explicit (this is pure episode 5 inspired smut folks)
Excerpt:
“I gave the order,” Kinn says.
Well, fuck Kinn and his fucking orders, Porsche thinks as he crawls his fifth lap across the hall. And fuck this stupid, pointless punishment too; as if Porsche can’t crawl across the hall a hundred times, even with his hands bound behind his back.
Except the crawling obviously isn’t the point. Tying him up and putting him down is the point. Having Big and Ken there to jeer as he crawls is the point—as if Porsche can’t tell that they’ve been ordered not to hurt him, when their kicks barely even hurt. No, making sure Porsche knows that they can say or do whatever the hell they want to him, as long as Kinn wants it to be so? That's the fucking point.
Thank you all so much to everyone who posted! By my account we have 25 new fics in the collection since announcing this year's fest, and I think I've reblogged everything that was shared to Tumblr. (If you posted and I missed you, though, please send me a message and let me know!)
It warms my heart to see people excited to release their WIPs into the world, and I hope your writing is able to get some of the love it deserves. Although this year's official posting day is over, the collection will be open all year. Also, I fully intend to host this again next year, so continue to spread the word! Know for yourself - and let your friends know, if you'd like - that even if that fic is never going to be finished, there is still a place for it in the world and in the fandom conversation.
Here’s my contribution to Good Intentions WIPFest. A very old early Widdershins fanfic that’s too dark for the tone of the comic and has diverged too far from canon. But hopefully someone might like the first chapter.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
happy halloween! here's some sk8 the infinity fic i've brought back from the dead 👍
(in other words i've decided to post 2 fics i never got around to finishing, but liked enough to put out into the world. thanks to @goodintentionswipfest for hosting this event! 💕)
ai is nice to reki
adam & reki (& ensemble), rated G, 700 words
a snippet from a series i was planning, which involved developing post-canon relationships between adam, reki, langa, and tadashi. tadashi is not actually present but i'm sure he would be eventually.
take off your pants
adam/langa, explicit, 1500 words
eden relationship study sort-of-smut inspired by music 🎶
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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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
HELLO! Halloween is less than three weeks away, and what could possibly be spookier than abandoned WIPs? Here at Good Intentions WIPFest, we invite you to let your ghosts come out to play!
Good Intentions WIPFest is a celebration for the dead and abandoned, but never unloved. The skeletons in your WIP folder, the vampires that you just couldn't finish lest you be drained dry, the ghosts that haunt you with the promise of what might have been. We believe those fics deserve to see the light of day - even if they are of the kind that can only come out at night - and Good Intentions WIPFest is a space for you to share them.
If you would like to join us in the spooky celebrations, it's very simple! On October 31st, post your unfinished stories or artwork to the Good Intentions AO3 collection. Lift the burden off your shoulders. Free yourself from those fics you are never going to finish. Give them a space in the world to come out to play!
There are only a few main rules:
Use the "Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued" tag on AO3 so that your readers know what to expect.
If you're posting on Tumblr, please mention this blog and/or tag "good intentions wipfest" and "good intentions 2024" so that I can find it to reblog.
No harassing other authors to finish!
Don't beat yourself up about not finishing! This fest is not a challenge to finish anything, it's an opportunity to let go guilt-free.
If you want more details, feel free to read through the FAQ, or to send me an ask here or on my main blog @roselightfairy. And please spread the word far and wide!
I'm reblogging again to encourage anyone who wanted to do it but has forgotten/not gotten around to posting!
I wanted to post a fic for each of my fannish "phases"—which essentially mirrors my academic life. Thus far I've only managed two:
the right kind of sinner: the beginning of a Elinor Dashwood/Henry Crawford AU (yes, wild, I know) where there's no deus ex machina to free Edward from his engagement and Elinor remains single and dependent years later. I wrote a few pages to establish how she gets to even know the Crawfords and had fun depicting this entirely from the POV of Fanny Dashwood, but never got beyond that and gave up before finishing my BA.
climb a mountain and turn around: my turn with the obligatory modern US AU of The Borgias, written in the gap year between getting my bachelor's and starting grad school. I specifically wanted to treat the Borgias' level of corruption as more culturally normalized than organized crime/murder/etc, given that their RL actions were pretty normal for early modern Italy, and I came up with this whole AU where they have this awful family publishing business rife with nepotism, but not actual crimes. This particular fic was a one-shot side story to the larger AU: just 1.6k words about the dysfunctional relationship between Juan and his twin sister Lucrezia in this context. I even almost finished the one-shot, but never quite managed it, and didn't feel inclined to bother once I gave up on the larger AU.
