Title: if you're looking for a fright (turn off the light)
Fandom: Pokemon Sword & Shield
Rating: T
Relationships: none
Length: 2.8k words
Where to Read: Archive of Our Own
Notes: I wrote this piece for the Pokegeist Ghost-type Pokemon Zine! Leftover sales are open now, so you can snag your copy of the zine if you missed preorders!
The sun’s final rays stretch across Stow-on-Side Stadium, gleaming along the surface of the water encircling the gym. A cool autumn breeze flows through the town, and Allister shivers slightly in the chill air.
“This research project better be worth the time, Hop.” Bede’s arms are crossed as he leans back against the dilapidated wooden fence. He’s squinting in the late afternoon light, his head turned so he’s looking into the Glimwood Tangle.
Hop scowls for a moment before he schools his features. “It will be. Sonia’s been looking into ghosts around the region ever since she got back from the Crown Tundra. She wants me to compare and contrast between authentic and phony Sinistea for the project. A worthy endeavour — see if we can figure out the differences other than the stamp alone.”
“S-so we’re looking for Sinistea.” Allister tilts his head as he looks at Hop. The teen had asked for his help two nights prior with a “Ghost-type research mission” in the Glimwood Tangle, with a promise to share details when they set out into the forest. Allister’s knowledge of ghosts, he’d said, would be of invaluable help to Hop and Sonia’s research.
Hop grins brightly and laces his fingers behind his head. “Yeah! Our main goal is to find a Sinistea colony. Once we find the colony, we’re to observe them in their natural environment, and catch an authentic Sinistea.
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Title: alter the course
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core FFVII, Pokemon
Rating: T
Relationships: none
Length: 2k words
Where to Read: Archive of Our Own
Notes: I wrote this piece for Of Fantasy and Monster, a Final Fantasy VII/Pokemon crossover zine, as their guest writer! It was super fun to get to explore this fusion universe, and I'm super stoked to eventually write more for this AU (I had so many ideas, it was really hard to figure out what lore to cut and what to keep!)
Tifa had tried to make light conversation, at first. She’d stopped pouting when Sephiroth and Zack entered the reactor, instead asking Cloud what his name was, and how he liked Midgar, and what did he think of the SOLDIERs?
Cloud kept silent, heart hammering in his chest. His stomach in knots, he clenched his hands on the grip of his rifle to keep them from shaking. He didn’t dare to open his mouth, instead resolutely scanning the treeline and leaning his weight towards Zack’s Leafeon.
He cannot speak to Tifa. His throat feels dry and thick, like the words will stick. He hasn’t lived up to his promise, yet — how could he face her? He’s merely a private who’s failed the SOLDIER exam twice. He can’t even keep his squad safe; he winces at the thought of Evans, lost to the Nibel Mountains. There’s no way he could be the hero Tifa dreamed of. His face burns in shame at his boastful words two years ago.
Leafeon butts her face against his leg. Zack had proclaimed she was there to assist Cloud with guard duty. Cloud knows she’s really there to soothe his own nerves.
Tifa has given up on conversation now. She’s leaning against a tree, arms crossed and eyes closed. The noon sun shines brightly overhead, making Cloud sweat under his helmet. Tifa’s Sentret — a familiar face — and Machop — that one’s new to Cloud — are play-fighting nearby. He misses his Shinx, left in his Ma’s care when he left home. Maybe he’ll visit his Ma tonight.
An odd stillness settles over the clearing. Cloud tightens his grip on his rifle and scans the treeline. A shiver goes up his spine, and the hair stands up on the back of his neck.
I'm following the rules by sending you an ask but demon/vampire mb au????? idk why that's the "weirdest" thing I saw in your list
(ask me about my WIPs)
AHHH THAT ONE! :D
That fic was gonna be for a MB big bang like... a year ago? 2 years ago??? and i dropped the event bc i was so busy with school + zines and it was my lowest prio (plus was slipping out of sk8 writing at the time).
my initial idea inspo was one of those twitter "QRT with pics based on your zodiac/birthday/battery %" things, which gave me the prompt: Immortal AU | Mutual Pining | “Listen to me, just this once.” my essential idea: Kaoru is posessed by a demon (Carla) who grants him eternal health + youth + life in exchange for her getting to live in his body + occasionally use it as her own (gets her a "get out of Hell free" card). Kojiro is a vampire. The two meet in Venice, have an on-again-off-again situationship for a few centuries, until they meet up in modern day when Adam (a demon possessing the politician Ainosuke Shindo) appears and decides, hey, he really wants to be a dick to Carla, so why not get the pretty body she's got while he's at it?
featuring high drama from Kojiro, who refuses to let Kaoru be possessed by Adam, Kaoru who has a demon and a vampire as his forever family, Carla who is a snarky demon shit, and amateur demon hunter group comprised of Reki/Langa/Shadow/Miya who are investigating this super sus politician, Ainosuke Shindo.
Snippet below the cut (this is long but i legit forgot i wrote this and it *slaps*) cw for: threats of violence, blood drinking, loss of control of body due to demon possession
The moonlight shines on the water’s surface, and Kaoru breathes the salty air in deep. Venice reminds him of home, with the ocean air rolling in and the markets full of freshly caught fish. It’s been nearly sixty years since he left home, but Kaoru still finds himself most at peace by the ocean.
It’s far safer to travel in a group, Kaoru knows, but he slips away from the caravan of traders he’s travelled here with to explore the city for himself.
He looks up, losing himself in the stars as he walks along the waterfront. Gondolas drift by in his periphery, and Italian chatter spills out of open windows as he meanders along the walkway.
A hand on his arm startles Kaoru out of his reverie, and the shine of the moon on the water disappears as he’s pulled into a dark alley and a hand is slapped over his mouth.
“Just what the hell are you?” and Kaoru’s staring into angry wine-dark eyes with his own eyes open wide, and Carla says “Oh, fuck,” in his head, and then—
His mouth is moving but Kaoru’s not speaking. He can see his hands coming up to grip the stranger’s shirt tight, but he’s not moving them. He can feel his own face twist into a smirk and a leer but he’s not the one doing it, what is this—
Carla chuckles, deep and low, and the sound comes from Kaoru’s throat. “Oh, you are a pretty one, aren’t you? What are you? Werewolf? No, you’re far too cold for that. A lost soul, then, clinging to a life it has no claim of? Or,” and Carla leans in close and brushes the stranger’s hair away from their neck, revealing two light scars dotting the flesh just behind the jugular.
“Oh, how interesting,” Carla purrs with Kaoru’s tongue. “A vampire, here in Venice? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, your kind loves the waterfront—”
The vampire shoves Kaoru, no, Carla, into the stone wall behind them, and steps back. “Well, you know what I am. Now answer my damn question: what are you?”
Carla crosses Kaoru’s arms — and Kaoru does not like the feeling why can’t he control his limbs — and tilts Kaoru’s head. “My name is Carla. I’ve struck a deal with this mortal, so now I get to use his body.”
The stranger’s eyes narrow. “A demon, I should have known by your stink—”
Kaoru protests in his head, but the words never pass his lips. Carla cuts the stranger off with a laugh. “Oh, come now, love, the boy and I have our deal. He agreed to this, and he gets what he wants out of the bargain. There’s no need for such insults, especially not when I know every weakness your kind has.”
In a flurry of movement, Carla has the vampire pinned to the wall, Kaoru’s dagger held to his throat. “It’s made of steel, to be sure, but beheading works just as well as a stake through the heart. But I’m sure we’d both rather this not end in violence — surely, this city is big enough for the both of us, at least for the next few days? We’ve got enough problems from all the humans slinking about; if they catch onto either one of us, it’s bad news for us both. So, what do you say? Truce?”
The stranger grits his teeth and nods curtly. “Truce.”
Carla nods and pulls away, sheathing Kaoru’s dagger in one fluid motion. “I’ve told you my name already, and the boy’s name is Kaoru.”
“Kojiro,” the vampire says. He narrows his eyes as he looks Carla up and down.
“Let me out,” Kaoru says, but the words never pass his lips, and Carla’s voice resonates around him in his head. It rumbles in the dark space Kaoru is in, shaking every fiber of his soul as she croons, “Hush, now, all in due time.”
“Kojiro,” Carla says aloud, and she taps Kaoru’s lips with a finger in thought. “Well, in the name of our truce, what say I buy you a drink?”
Kojiro rolls his eyes. “And you claim to know so much about vampires.”
“Not alcohol, moron.” Carla turns back to the water and the moonlight shining on the river’s surface. “We demons have quite a network already established, one that can even benefit you vampires.”
They end up at a dingy pub. Kojiro claims a booth while Carla speaks with the bartender. She asks for two glasses of wine, “One red and one darker,” she says. The bartender pauses and looks at her, locks eyes with her for a moment, then nods and turns away. He comes back with two glasses, one with wine and one with a thicker, deep red liquid. Carla takes the glasses, and the thicker liquid clings to the side of the glass as it shifts. Kaoru realizes with horror that the liquid is blood.
Carla brings the glasses and slides the glass of blood over to Kojiro. He sniffs at it, eyes narrowed in suspicion. His eyes widen as he looks at it.
“Huh,” he says. “You actually got human blood.”
Carla lifts up her wine glass. “Like I said — connections. Alla tua.”
“Alla tua,” Kojiro says, and he clinks his glass against Carla’s before taking a deep sip. “So,” he says, “what brings a demon to Venice?”
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[Alt Image ID: Preview: Honor Amongst Thieves. "Cinna's in charge of the mission. What he says, goes. If he's not there, Marcus is next in charge, then Blank. They tell you to hide? You hide. They tell you to jump, you ask how high. Clear?" "Clear." Eiko nods. "Anything else?" Baku squints at her, then nods. "That's about it, really. It's a two-day job - a day's travel there and back, and we pull the job overnight. It'll be a long couple a'days." "That's fine." "It's on you to sort an alibi and cover your ass up at the castle." "Yeah, yeah, I'll get it sorted, old man!" Eiko slaps her hands flat on the table and stands up on her chair to lean forward more, ignoring Baku's guffaw. "What's the job, already?" Baku turns to the side and sneezes,then looks up at Eiko with a grin. "We're gonna rob the King's estate." /end ID]
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Title: remember, remember (this is now)
Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild and Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity
Rating: T
Relationships: none (Link/Sidon if you squint, mentioned canon Mipha/Link)
Length: 3.8k words
Where to Read: Archive of Our Own
Notes: I wrote this piece for the Homemade in Hyrule Zelda Cookbook Zine! Leftover sales are open now, so you can snag your copy of the zine if you missed preorders!
The siege lasts three full days. A seemingly endless onslaught of Guardians and Moblins and those horrible dark shadow-mockeries of the Champions are, at long last, defeated. Princess Zelda awakens her holy powers, cutting through the enemy lines as swiftly as any Divine Beast.
And, at the end of it all, Fort Hateno stands strong.
Sidon sits on the trunk of a fallen tree, looking around at the walls of the stronghold. Soldiers mill about, bandaging the wounded and taking stock of the supplies salvaged from the Fort. In the distance, Zelda sits, Impa by her side, hearing Kohga’s account of Astor’s callous sacrifice of his kin. He cannot make out what is being said, nor what the soldiers near him are saying, over the hollow ringing in his ears.
“You’re bleeding.”
Sidon looks up with a start. Mipha is frowning down at him in concern. Her hand hovers in the air over his shoulder, wavering uncertainly. Sidon looks down at his forearm. He is bleeding. It’s probably a bad sign that he hasn’t taken notice of it.
“It’s just a scratch,” Sidon says, and his own voice sounds distant in his ears.
finish reading on ao3
[image id: a screenshot from Breath of the Wild of Zora's Domain. Mipha's statue is central, with a few Zora children playing by the statue's feet. Sidon stands on an upper level, looking out at the plaza. He is a tall shark Zora, with red and white skin and a strap over one shoulder. Text over the image reads: remember, remember (this is now). 3.8k words. T. Sidon-centric. written by ShrapnelChan for the Homemade in Hyrule Zine. end id.]
Fandom: Our Flag Means Death
Rating: T
Relationships: Edward “Blackbeard” Teach/Stede Bonnet
Length: 1.2k words
Where to Read: Archive of Our Own
Notes: I wrote this piece for the OFMDZineTalentShow prompt, “Design a Flag”, hosted by the @ofmdzine - check them out for more fun pieces!
Edward runs his hands over the cloth with a cautious reverence, hesitant to touch the fabric. Heavy brocade, crisp dupioni, delicate chiffon, all pass between his slightly shaking fingers. It seems such a shame to carve up each piece the way they would need to. “You’re sure you wanna use this for your flag?” His eyes snap up to meet Stede’s, thumb still rubbing delicately over an intricately crocheted lace.
“Yes,” Stede says. “It’s scraps, things that are worn beyond repair. More where they came from, anyhow!” There’s a flippancy in his voice as he waves at the fabric that Edward doesn’t quite understand – one more thing in a long list of things that drives home the difference between Ed and Stede.
Fandom: Pokemon Sword and Shield
Rating: G
Relationships: none, gen
Length: 1.6k words
Where to Read: Archive of Our Own
Notes: Written for the Champion Time Zine - check out the other pieces at their twitter here!
Perhaps Leon shouldn’t be so skeptical of Opal selecting Bede to be her successor. Bede had taken the early stages of the gym circuit by storm, showcasing his skill and dominating the challenges. Opal had helped him to hone that potential despite his arrogant attitude.
Leon scans the paperwork, filled out in Bede’s blocky print and countersigned in Opal’s loopy cursive, and lays it beside his proposals for Battle Tower challengers.
Bede is rigid in the squashy chair opposite him, half his face cast in golden afternoon glow.
Leon clears his throat. “So, you were endorsed by Rose, correct?”
“Chairman Rose, yes.” Bede’s posture stiffens further as he corrects Leon.
Leon frowns. He’s had to remind himself often that Rose was responsible for his own actions. It seems Bede needs the reminder, too. “Ex-Chairman,” he says gently.
