The Specific Tragedy Of Marineford's Events Aside Ace Is Just A Wild Character To Watch. He's The Coolest

My most kudoed fic is by far Children of the Sea, but when I went to check by how much I noticed that several of my other One Piece fics had more kudos than I remembered which makes me very happy.

My favorite fic is probably also Children of the Sea because I got severely attached to the characters throughout the chapters. It's a family-centric story where Rouge raises Ace, Shanks and Buggy (and coming soon, our favorite rubber kid!). And bonus point, everyone survives their tragic backstory.

But I still want to mention another one of my fics that I absolutely love, At The Dawn Of Time. I put a lot of myself into this story and it means a lot to me on a personal level. This is again a story about Rouge (shocking, I know) where after Marineford, Ace travels back in time for a day and meets Rouge when she was pregnant with him in Baterilla. This story is not so much about fixing the past but rather Ace's journey towards self-acceptance, particularly with regard to his parents, as well as self-love.

OH OH reblog game: fic writers, what is your most kudosed fic, and what is your favorite fic you've written? are they different? have any commentary?

Snippet Sunday !!

What do you mean I'm finally writing for Children of the Sea again? To celebrate, here is a little snippet from the next chapter, without the names obviously so as not to spoil anything.

Publication date is tentatively set for December 25th. A little Christmas present.

"The ties that bound them together were forged in the heat of battle, sharp and broken metal melding to create the most powerful weapon of all. A crew, a family. Through blood, sweat, and tears. To the ends of the ocean."

“I have something for you, beautiful,” Pandora said and Lily could hear the smile in her voice.

Lily straightened up and Pandora placed a flower crown on her head with a small, proud smile. Pandora's hands and Lily's flowers, the product of both their creations. Beautiful and fragile. It was Lily who had taught her how to do them when they were still friends, or pretending there wasn't something more between them.

“Pour la plus belle des fleurs,” Pandora complimented. Or at least Lily thought she did. She had no idea what Pandora had said but she loved it when she spoke French.

Grabbing the small mirror she had "borrowed" from Marlene from her jacket pocket, Lily observed the flowers in her hair. Pandora had chosen flowers that complimented the color of her hair — hyacinths, agapanthus, fuchsias and lilac. 

Lily liked what she saw in her reflection, her long red hair that framed her face, her long flowing blue skirt, the flowers that made her green eyes stand out. She looked feminine, she looked like… herself . She couldn't contain her smile of euphoria.

“I love it,” Lily said softly, touching an agapanthus with her fingertips. “Thanks Panda.”

She leaned down to kiss Pandora, her hand burying itself in Pandora's hair. She could have drowned in the softness of her skin forever. Lily smiled against Pandora's lips, an idea crossing her mind. 

“You need a crown too.”

I've Fallen For You

“Evans, did you come to wish me luck?” James teased good-naturedly. There was only good-natured humor and genuine friendship in his voice. Mary wanted to hex him anyway. 

"Sorry, Potter," Lily retorted, breezing past him and straight to Mary. "My heart's already taken." 

And Mary had no doubt that Lily really meant it, just not in the same way Mary did. Not when Mary wanted to warm Lily's frozen skin with kisses, to lose herself in Lily's lavender shampoo for hours.

"I can't compete with that," James replied with a wink, ushering the rest of his team outside. "Try not to make my star chaser late, Lils."

"I thought I was your star chaser!" Marlene protested, not before sending Mary an amused and very pointed look. Mary should never have said anything to her, fucking best friend and fucking Sirius Black with his fancy firewhiskey.

Mary didn't bother to listen to James's answer, because Lily approached her with a small smile. A smile Lily reserved only for Mary, as if Mary were the most precious thing in the world.

“Hi,” Lily whispered into the silence of the locker room. If Mary thought she'd shut out the outside world before, she was sorely mistaken. There was only Lily left — Lily and the star-shaped scar behind her ear, Lily and the ring on her index finger she shared with Mary, Lily and the warmth of her breath against Mary’s lips. Lily, Lily, Lily. “How are you feeling?”

Mary felt as if there was no more air in the room, but she managed to answer in a low voice, like a secret between them. “Perfect now that you're here.”

DAY 7: The Heart of a Demon

The heart of a demon, willingly given, is a powerful weapon for the one who wields it.

I hated that Crowley got so little recognition after his death from the Winchesters. Obviously with Cas dead he wasn't going to be the priority but even in death he's the second choice. It makes me want to scream. He deserved so much better. There will be a second chapter to this story because I didn't have time to write the ending and I won't have time until tonight. Fandom : Supernatural Character(s): Crowley Relationship(s) : Crowley & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Crowley/Dean Winchester Words Count: 3,060 Trigger Warnings : - Suicidal Thoughts - Implied Future Self-Sacrifice - Stabbing No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

“Yeah, but not our kind of weird. Look, whatever this thing is gonna be, it's gonna be big and bad–”

Crowley couldn't help but appreciate the irony of the situation. 

He materialized inside the library, the Winchesters still trusted him enough, even implicitly, to include him in the Bunker's wards. That would change, of course, now that they realized he'd let Lucifer out of the Cage but the trust and… companionship had been nice while it lasted.

“You rang?” Crowley smirked. “Hello, boys.”

Dean's reaction was immediate, not that Crowley expected anything else from him. He was so predictable sometimes, to Crowley at least.

“Did you do it? Did you let Lucifer out?!”

Dean’s voice was thunderous, shaking with rage and betrayal, and a cold blade was at his throat before he even hit the ground, his nose broken by Dean’s punch.

“I didn’t ‘let’—”

Crowley tried to justify himself but Dean immediately cut him off, shaking him roughly by the collar of his suit, seeing through his lies, as usual. Seeing that he couldn't get anything out of Dean, Crowley turned to Sam, hoping that his logical mind could cut through Dean's anger.

"Moose, a little help here!" Sam sighed, stepping towards his brother.

"Dean, wait."

"Seriously?"

The surprise was apparent to both mother and son, and while Crowley didn’t give a damn about Mama Winchester’s opinion of him, Dean’s reaction hurted where it shouldn’t have. He and Dean had tried to kill each other for years, but Crowley had come to see those interactions as foreplay.

Today, Dean could have plunged his knife into Crowley’s heart without thinking twice. And Crowley probably would have let him do it if he didn’t have a mission.

Still, Dean’s hands loosened around his neck. But not for Crowley’s sake, for Sam’s.

“Look, just don't kill him. He worked the Cage spell with Rowena. Maybe he can help us,” Sam explained.

“And what if he can't?” Mary asked skeptically.

“Well, then we kill him,” Sam replied.

Crowley stood up and dusted nonexistent specks off his jacket, ignoring the death threats and mimicking the Winchesters’ disdain and nonchalance.

“Cage spell? Thought you had Mother for that.”

Crowley tried not to be petulant in his bitterness. His relationship with the Winchesters was strictly professional, sworn enemies or tentative alliance. No hard feelings. Except—

“Rowena’s dead,” Dean announced calmly, coldly .

Would he talk about Crowley’s death the same way if that happened? Probably, they might have been more one day, but at the end of the day, Dean would only keep him around for as long as he was useful.

“Really?”

Mother was a bitch but she was a tenacious bitch, a survivor . Crowley had a hard time believing she would die so easily. He himself was currently assumed dead by everyone except the Winchesters.

"Yeah, really. Lucifer ," Sam replied.

Sam was tired but the venom in his voice at the mention of Lucifer was deadly. Few people hated the Devil with such force and they were all in this room.

"Funny. I always thought I'd be the one to kill her," Crowley said, keeping his voice steady and avoiding Dean's gaze.

Crowley didn’t know what to think. He had hated his mother most of his life, both of his lives, and yet for a moment, he had truly believed that they could be… family . But now was not the time to assess his complex feelings toward his blood.

(A wise man once told me family don’t end in blood, but it doesn’t start there either. Family cares about you, not what you can do for them. Family’s there through the good, bad, all of it. They got your back even when it hurts. That’s family.)

“Crowley...why did you do it? Save Lucifer,” Sam asked. “What did you want?”

Crowley didn't know what he had expected when he went to the Bunker. But certainly not Dean attacking him without even being able to meet his gaze in his anger and Sam hearing his reasons, giving him a chance to explain himself.

"I wanted to win," Crowley seethed, humiliation and anger still deeply rooted in his mind. "I perverted Mother's spell, put Lucifer in a vessel of my own making because I wanted to win ."

It wasn't a feeling the Winchesters could understand, they had fought all their lives for others. But Crowley was a demon , he fought for himself and himself only (not anymore) and for cockroaches like Lucifer to think they could take the fruits of his hard work was infuriating.

“You have any idea how many people have made a play for my throne over the years? Lucifer, Abaddon, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Too damn many,” Crowley snapped angrily. “I thought if I could put the Devil on a leash... my own personal nuke, no one would ever dare challenge me again.” 

“Yeah, that worked out great ,” Dean scoffed.

Crowley couldn’t deny it considering how he’d narrowly escaped death. But it had given him time to think about what was truly important. His throne wasn’t even in the top ten.

“Wait. In an actual rat?” Mary asked.

“Wasn't too bad, really,” Crowley replied, never one to refute his own mistakes. “Gave me time to think. You know, I've been focused for so long on keeping my job. Never realized I hate it. All those whining demons, the endless moan of damned souls, the paperwork! I mean, who wants that?”

The Winchesters didn’t seem very sympathetic to his introspection.

“You,” Sam replied, impassive.

He should have know that they were going to be little shits about it.

“Once, maybe,” Crowley replied dismissively.

“So why are you here?” Sam insisted impatiently.

“Well, whenever there's a world-ending crisis at hand, I know where to place my bets,” Crowley replied, smirking. “It's on you, you big, beautiful, lumbering piles of flannel. So if you'll forgive my transgression, I'll make it worth your while.”

Dean straightened up from the table he was leaning against, addressing Crowley for the first time since he’d tried to kill him. Which, by the way, was still incredibly rude .

“Which means?”

“After we put Lucifer back in his cage, together, I'll seal the gates of Hell. You'll never see another demon again, apart from, of course, yours truly.”

Crowley knew they would accept. Even if the semblance of trust between them had been destroyed, the Winchesters had once fought, almost to the death, to close the Gates of Hell. And their greatest obstacle at the time was offering to finish the job for them.

(Crowley winced as he remembered what he’d revealed in that church, to Sam and to himself. He hadn’t been the same since, he hadn’t been the Winchesters’ enemy since.)

“You would do that?” Mary asked skeptically.

“Why not? They stab me in the back, I'll happily stab them in the front, the sides, and right up their little black-eyed asses,” Crowley replied viciously. “So... we have a deal?”

Crowley met Dean's gaze for the first time. Everyone had their own motivation, sense of duty, greed for power, need for love or dear old spite. The Winchesters didn't need to know which one drove Crowley.

(Maybe he would tell them if he knew himself.)

Dean nodded slightly in his direction. Everyone collectively let out a breath.

"Alright," Sam decided. "We still have to find Cas and Kelly."

The Winchesters sat back down around the table and pulled out their laptops, leaving Crowley standing alone at the end of the table. There was a seat next to Dean but it wasn't for Crowley, it never would be despite what Crowley had once thought they had.

The Winchesters clearly didn't need nor wanted his help, otherwise they would have already requested his assistance, with more or less threats depending on their mood. Given the stiffness of Dean's shoulders, they wouldn't have been very polite.

Crowley could have snapped his fingers to summon a glass of scotch but he preferred to advance to the bar in a corner of the room, his leather shoes echoing against the library floor. He opened the precious wood cabinet and, still in its place, was a bottle of his favorite brand.

Crowley poured himself a glass, the amber liquid appearing almost like liquid gold in the dim lighting of the room. He returned to the table and sat down, the glass in his hand. At the head of the table.

"This is what you do when I'm not here? Type?" Crowley asked after a few moments of silence, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

At least when he was King, he could order his minions to do the boring work for him.

"Yep," Dean replied without looking up from his phone.

"Wait a second. I got something," Sam interrupted. "Okay, two hours ago, there was a massive power outage in the Pacific Northwest."

"Sounds like the right kind of weird," Mary conceded, glancing at the article on her son's computer.

"Oh, yeah. Wait. They tracked the outage to an address in North Cove, Washington, to a house currently being rented by one James Novak ," Sam continued, emphasizing the last few words.

Only a few people in the world knew the importance of that name, but with an alias like that, Cas was practically begging the Winchesters to find him. Even Crowley knew that.

"It's Cas. Let's roll," Dean decided.

"It’s about time," Crowley said, standing up to follow the Winchesters.

Faster than Crowley could register, Dean stabbed Crowley's hand with his knife, pinning him to the table. A flash of gold illuminated the bones in his hand for a second and Crowley cried out in pain as his blood spilled onto the table.

"Think we're gonna trust you out there after what you pulled? Hmm? No ," Dean snapped, his green eyes deeper than the lushest forests, blazing with anger. "You stay here, sit down, and you shut up."

Dean twisted the knife in the wound for good measure before walking away, leaving Crowley alone. Great, now he was going to have to rip his hand off before he could leave.

Asshole .

XXX

Dean, as usual, was the first to notice.

"Oh, come on!"

"Hello, boys. Again ," Crowley greeted.

"Wait a second," Sam asked, "how the hell did you—?"

Crowley held up his bloody, bandaged hand from where he had — painfully, he might add —pulled out the knife.

"I improvised. Lucky I did. Turns out I'm the answer to all your problems."

Dean groaned in frustration, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat. “It's impossible to get rid of you, you're like a cockroach!”

“Now that we've all come to the same conclusion, maybe we could stop wasting time?” Crowley suggested with a saccharine smile.

Crowley didn't wait for Cas or the Winchesters to answer and headed towards the house. This isn't where Crowley would have imagined the birth of the Antichrist, more on an altar made of skulls and blood, but the Winchesters never did anything like everyone else.

Including rifts through space and time to an apocalyptic world.

Luckily for Chip and Dale, Crowley didn't do ordinary things either. And in theory, he knew a spell that could close the rift, preferably with Lucifer on the other side. In theory.

When they arrived a few minutes later, Crowley was already seated at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. (There was no alcohol in the cupboards, he had checked.) Cas glared at him for invading his space. Cas stayed by the door, Sam positioned as a barrier between him and Dean.

Crowley smiled viciously as Dean took the chair next to him. It seemed he wasn’t the only one in Dean’s bad graces.

“I’m going to check on Kelly,” Cas mumbled, glancing at Dean one last time.

“So what’s your plan?” Sam asked, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“I know a spell that could close the rift,” Crowley explained. “And with Lucifer a few hours behind you–”

“We could lure him into the other dimension and close the door on him,” Dean realized, a glimmer of hope lighting his eyes for the first time.

Dean had a way to fight, to resist. It was enough for him for now. He smiled at Crowley, as if the betrayals and anger had never come between them. Crowley let himself believe for a moment that this was a recurring occasion and not a rare memory.

"What do you need for the spell?" Sam asked, searching the kitchen for a piece of paper.

"Nothing I can't find in your little Bunker," Crowley replied, standing. "Be back in five."

When Dean reached for him, Crowley quickly removed his hands from the table and hid them behind his back. Stab me once—

Dean gave him a strange look as his hand came to rest on Crowley's shoulder to stop him in his tracks. "I'm coming with you."

"You still don't trust me?" Crowley asked, his bandaged hand resting on his chest, pretending to be hurt. “You wound me so, Squirrel.”

“Stop talking so much,” Dean complained.

Taking Dean to the Bunker took more energy than he would have normally used, but considering he hadn't planned on surviving the night, Crowley didn't care.

"All that to get back here," Crowley remarked as he arrived. "It would have been quicker if you hadn't stabbed me in the first place."

"If you want an apology, Crowley, you're not getting one," Dean replied.

Now that they were alone, Dean couldn't hide behind his brother and mother to mask his anger at Crowley. But anger was good, it was better than the cruel and indifferent apathy of Lucifer or his mother.

To be angry was to feel .

"You're not the least bit sorry?" Crowley insisted.

A stab in the hand was nothing. It was the proof that Dean didn’t want him around, didn’t trust him, that hurted him.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re not exactly trustworthy,” Dean retorted.

“You always knew who I was, and yet you used to trust me,” Crowley pointed out. “What changed?”

Crowley knew what had changed, Dean thought Crowley had reformed, that he wasn’t the demon he once was. Because Dean Winchester could never love a demon, could never love who he was.

Crowley wasn’t enough .

But he wanted to hear Dean tell him. If he couldn’t have love, he would have the truth. He wanted to know if the man in front of him was worth dying for.

Dean turned on his heel, not wanting to hurt Crowley or caring enough to answer him.

“What do you need? We don’t have much time and I don’t want to leave Sam, Mom, and Cas alone for too long,” Dean asked, his back turned.

“Holy oil,” Crowley answered without missing a beat, as if their conversation never happened.

(Crowley didn’t even deserve the truth.)

(The answer was yes .)

Dean left Crowley to search for the rest of the ingredients alone and Crowley wandered through the Bunker, past Cas’s room and down into the basement. Maybe he could have that, he’d be content being the group’s demon mascot, helping Dean on his hunts. They’d made a good team, hadn’t they?

(Dean didn’t trust him.)

(Crowley wasn’t enough.)

But victory over Lucifer wouldn’t be satisfying enough unless Crowley wiped that arrogant smirk off his face himself. He had to deliver the final blow, no matter if it was through his own heart.

It wasn’t like he had any other reason to stay.

Crowley opened a cupboard, searching for lamb's blood and his gaze froze on a bag of small, decorative red plastic tridents. He pulled one out of the bag, it was so small in his fingers, so easy to break. After a moment of hesitation, Crowley put it in his pocket and closed the cupboard behind him.

Crowley grabbed the lamb's blood from the next cupboard and went back into the library, the trident burning in his jacket pocket. Dean was already waiting for him in the library, tapping his fingers nervously against the wooden table. He looked up well before Crowley arrived in the room, damn hunter senses.

"Ready to take on the Devil? Again ," Crowley asked mockingly. "What must this be, the third time? You're not very good at your job."

"Whose fault is that?" Dean accused.

It wasn't a very good idea to remind Dean that Lucifer was on the loose again, especially when he wanted his forgiveness but Dean was so easy to rile off.

"I counted and I only let him out once, while you bozos let him out twice," Crowley retorted. "I don't see why I should take all the blame."

Dean’s jaw muscles clenched and part of Crowley wanted to brush against him to see if Dean would bite him.

(Depending on the context, Crowley would happily let him.)

“Come on, I know you get cranky when you’re away from Samantha for too long,” Crowley smirked.

Crowley grabbed Dean’s shoulder and led them back to the house, the effort taking a toll on the bones of his vessel. His vessel was falling apart slowly, with Lucifer’s attempted murder and the strain he was putting on it with the repeated use of his powers, but Crowley had grown too fond of it to jump ships. And it wasn’t like he was going to keep using it for long.

Crowley nearly stumbled upon landing but Dean caught his elbow, pulling him against him to steady him. His brows furrowed almost in worry as he studied Crowley’s face.”

“Are you okay?

“Don't worry your pretty little head about me,” Crowley replied, pulling away from Dean. Dean's hands were warm against his forearms. “Just missed a step.”

Crowley walked away in the direction of the kitchen, but Dean’s voice made him stop in the hallway, just under an open window. One floor below, the rift glowed brightly in the night, the exact shade of gold a demon or angel produced before dying. Crowley caught Dean’s gaze in the reflection of the glass.

“Crowley, thank you for coming. I–” Dean paused, searching for his words. “I needed you here.”

Crowley turned around. "We make a pretty good team, don't we?"

"Yeah," Dean smiled weakly, the tiredness on his face even more visible in the silence.

"It was a pleasure, Dean," Crowley replied sincerely.

I'm a firm believer that Crowley was at least a little bit in love with Dean. But who can blame him? Either way, their relationship is so complex and interesting, I love them.

And also, because I'm nice like that, here's a snippet from tomorrow's story 👀:

Dean and Dad had walked for what seemed like hours, searching for Sammy. The werewolf’s tracks had finally disappeared around a bush, as if they had never existed. The full moon setting on the horizon should have been a relief, the end of a long night, but it was only a mockery. They were running out of time.

So, I did a thing. I decided to try Whumptober this year. Decision made on September 18th so I'm not as far ahead as I'd like. But it also means I can be persuaded to change my mind if you want to see a particular character for certain days :)

Feel free to suggest your characters to me!

As usual I couldn't decide between One Piece and Supernatural so I did both with about the same number of stories for each.

I don't want to put any pressure on myself with this, just a fun way to challenge myself with prompts I wouldn't have thought of otherwise. That's all.

Last thing, I'm going to post on AO3 but would anyone be interested in me posting them here as well?

Happy (?) Whumptober and if you decide to spend some of it with me, thank you very much and welcome aboard!

Hot Girl Summer is reading soul-shattering fanfiction about dead gay wizards from the 70s.

Three One Piece story ideas I might (or might not) write someday:

- The Faces I See In My Sleep: Ever since he was taken in by the Revolutionary Army, Sabo draws the same two faces over and over again without ever knowing their names. A little boy who smiles like the sun and another with stormy eyes and freckles like stars. And when Portgas D. Ace makes his debut on the high seas, Sabo can't help but notice the similarities between his wanted poster and the boy in his drawings.

- Pieces of Me: Nami had spent more than half her life serving Arlong. Arlong had stolen her mother, her childhood, and her freedom. He had taken everything from her. Her maps, her time, her hope, and her blood. Little by little, he had ripped away essential pieces of her, leaving behind only a broken, empty shell, just functional enough to be useful to him. But with the help of her crew, Nami becomes whole again, regaining the pieces of herself that Arlong stole from her.

- My Father Is The Worst Man Alive (And I’m His Favorite Daughter): After touring Wano, Yamato sets sail to see the world. His first stop: the grave of the friend he never got to know, the only person in the world who could understand the burden of being born of a monster, the pirate who gave him his first taste of freedom. Portgas D. Ace. It's been years since Yamato saw his vivre card go up in flames, but better late than never.

If this is something you would like to read, please let me know so I can motivate myself to write it. And if this is something you would like to write, please let me know so I can read it!

AO3 Wrapped 2024 [Writer's Edition]

As I only started writing in 2023 and haven't been able to write since October because of my exams, it's not as much as I would have liked but here is my AO3 Wrapped 2024 ! Based on this post if you want to do it too.

Sorry if this is long, I loved doing this and looking back on my year of writing.

How many words have you written this year?

I published 445,335 words this year on AO3, so I probably wrote more but I have no idea how to count them. But I'm cheating a little since all my One Piece stories are in French and English.

How many works did you publish this year?

I've published 35 works in English, 61 if we count the French translations.

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

At The Dawn Of Time, a story where Portgas D. Ace travels back in time for a day after Marineford to meet his mother Portgas D. Rouge while she is still pregnant with him in Baterilla. His arrival has no impact whatsoever on the timeline, all events remain the same after his visit but it has such a big impact on Ace, on how he sees himself, how he sees his parents and the world. It's the moment where he learns to love and forgive himself with a little help from his mom and it means so much to me, especially at the time I wrote it.

I love this story for all it represents and I also think it's really well written. Kudos to me.

What work of yours has the most hits?

It's Children of the Sea, my story about Rouge adopting Shanks and Buggy after Roger's death, with 24,428 hits ! But considering that it's also my longest ongoing project, that was expected.

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

Between the Waves and the Stars, a story for Nami's birthday (One Piece) about the first few weeks of the crew with just her, Luffy and Zoro. I love this story but I honestly didn't expect so many people to agree with me and take the time to write so many lovely and kind comments.

(The title may also be the inspiration for my username. I love astral imagery, sue me.)

Favorite title you used

I hate having to come up with titles for my stories, it either comes to me directly because I pull it directly from a song or I stare at my story for hours trying to come up with a title. That said, I think one I'm very prouf of is Gold On The Fingers, Gold In The Heart because the title plays on Roger's name and the attraction Rouge already feels for him without admitting it to herself.

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

These are not stories that I have already published but I have a whole series of stories inspired by Livingston's music and lyrics.

Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

The focus of my stories is rarely romantic and I focus more on platonic and familial relationships, especially and equally Ace & Sabo & Luffy from One Piece and Dean & Sam from Supernatural. However, the romantic pairing I've written the most about has to be Rouge/Roger from One Piece.

Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?

If we talk about romantic pairing, Rouge/Roger (One Piece). There is not enough content on them and if I have to do it myself, I will.

What work was the quickest to write?

Ghosts of the Past (And Those of the Present), I have a series where I write stories for One Piece characters' birthdays (which I've totally neglected since September, sorry) and I had forgotten about Perona's birthday until the last minute but in a few hours, I wrote almost 3000 words in one go. I've been trying to chase that high ever since.

What work took you the longest to write?

It's obviously Children of the Sea, for once because it's my longest work but also because I have a lot of things to tell and I want to do it in the most perfect way possible. The first chapters were super easy but I'm at an impasse in my story where I would already like to be at the next arc of the plot. BUT it's the first thing I'm going to get back to when my finals are over.

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

So many, honestly I'm drowning. I'd say I have over twenty and sometimes I wish my brain would just shut up.

But I'm also eager to start writing them properly. One mistake I won't make next year though is to start posting without a head start no matter how much I want to.

What’s your longest work of the year?

Once again, Children of the Sea (the French version anyway) with 59,166 if my calculations are correct. And I'm only at the beginning of the second part of the first book. At this rate, I'm going to get my master's degree before I finish this story I think, but it's so worth it.

What’s your shortest work of the year?

Blood On The Car Seats with 905 words, a story about Bobby's last moments with Dean and Sam in Supernatural.

Before starting Whumptober I rarely if ever wrote stories under 2,000 words but with the time constraint I had to learn to say less sometimes which was both very painful and educational.

What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

Without surprises, Children of the Sea. This work is my child and my sister has instructions on what to do if I die before I finish writing it.

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

Canon Compliant, which is a bit boring so I'll go with my second most used which is Found Family and totally represents my writing.

Your favorite character to write this year?

PORTGAS D. ROUGE! I love her dearly, she's my wife and my everything. And then I remember that we see her a grand total of once in the manga, which makes me sad. Oda, give me more content on Rouge and my life is yours.

But more seriously, since we have so little content, she has, even more than the other characters of One Piece, became my character and she more than anyone else has made me want to write an original book one day.

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

Luffy. I love him, he's one of my favorite characters in One Piece but he's so hard to write. He's so complex and well written with so much natural in the manga that I'm always afraid of not doing him justice and making him a two-dimensional character. And don't even get me started on when I have to write from his point of view, a real nightmare. But I love him, he's so interesting.

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

I don't know yet, I have a lot of ideas.

A lot of them are about Dean/Castiel (Supernatural) or Nami/Vivi (One Piece) if we're talking about romantic relationships. But if we're talking about platonic relationships, all the dynamics I'm going to be able to explore in Children of the Sea when I finally get all the characters to meet.

All the relationships, whether seen romantically or platonically, in the Straw Hat crew are also fascinating to me. I have a collection of one-shots about them in progress, I might have to pick it up again.

Which work of yours have you reread the most?

I have no idea, I must have reread all my stories once or twice to see if I could expand on this particular idea. The last one I reread though was Day Trip with Grandpa, the story about Garp's birthday (One Piece) because I got a comment on it today.

How many kudos in total did you get this year?

4,130 kudos, which is huge! Thank you so much to everyone who has ever left a kudo on one of my stories, I love you, I cherish you and I hope your pillow is always cold on both sides.

Which work has the most comments?

It's Children of the Sea again but that doesn't surprise me since most of my other stories are one-shots.

Did you do any collaborative works this year? Did you write any gifts this year? Did you receive any gifts this year?

No, maybe something for next year!

What’s your most common category?

Gen, and by a long way! Not surprising.

What do you listen to while writing?

I listen to absolutely anything and everything, probably more music with a dramatic vibe or a theme that is related to the story. I made a playlist a while ago for Children of the Sea, but I need to update it.

Favorite work you wrote this year?

Argh, I honestly like all of my stories, or almost, but I'm going to say At The Dawn of Time or Children of the Sea. I've talked about them enough already so I won't do it again but they really hold a special place for me. Coincidentally or not, both have Rouge as a central character.

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

[Not pictured, me freezing for ten minutes because I don't know which line is my favorite.]

Chapter 14, Children of the Sea

Excerpt from the correspondence between Portgas D. Rouge & Gol D. Roger, 17 years ago RETURNED TO SENDER My love, It has been seven years since your death today and even more since the last time I saw you, touched you and kissed you. I learned that the cells of the body renew themselves, and that every seven years, each cell of our bodies is different. Which means that from now on, no part of my body has been in contact with you. Only my soul and my heart. And the trace you left there can never be erased. I will forever carry you in my heart and in each of my actions. You will always be a part of me.

I don't know if this is my absolute favorite, but this letter and this whole chapter are very close to my heart.

Biggest surprise while writing this year?

I can write! All the stuff I was hesitant to write, fight scenes, romantic moments with tension. It may not be my strong point (yet) but I can do it! I can basically write anything I want.

Rouge meets Roger a few months after she enters to the New World. He's funny, flirts with her endlessly, but more importantly, he has a ship. So she flirts back, lets him buy her a drink or two, and at the end of the night, she steals his ship. And his straw hat for good measure.

Roger chases her to the docks, his crew behind him, and by the time he gets there, Rouge has already cast off. Roger's fingers almost close around her wrist, a ghostly touch. The wind rushes through her sails, and Rouge blows Roger a kiss as she laughs away from the island.

A few weeks later, Rouge has all but forgotten about Roger, except for the fact that she's living on his ship. She could sell it and buy one more suited to her needs — a smaller one for starters, living alone on a ship that big feels like a ghost ship — but something's stopping her. There's life everywhere she looks, memories, of Roger and his crew. She almost feels bad for stealing it, not just the ship but what it represents.

But Rouge lives her life without regrets and it's not like she's going to turn back now.

Life goes on and so does Rouge.

Roger catches up with her the next day.

Rouge wanders the streets of the city, restocking her supplies to leave. The island was pleasant enough, with long sandy beaches, but adventure awaits. The air pressure increases as she exits a store and Rouge swallows to clear her aching ears, watching the clouds for any sign of a storm.

The danger does not come from the sky.

The crowd parts around him instinctively, and Rouge stares into his gray eyes. That's where the real storm is, dangerous and beautiful. Roger smiles, Rouge starts running.

They run through the city, between market stalls and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Rouge almost lets Roger catch up with her once or twice before running out of his reach again. Adrenaline and joy flow through her veins, giving her wings. But when she reaches the port to set sail again, his crew is already there, aboard her ship.

Rouge stops abruptly and Roger lands next to her, laughing cheerfully. Jolly Roger, they call him. The pirate who laughs all the time, even when his sails are red with blood. Rouge wonders if she made a mistake.

"It's been a long time since I've had this much fun," Roger says, and there's a sort of breathless happiness to him that makes his eyes sparkle.

Rouge, who expected self-righteous anger and sharp steel, drops her hand from her dagger in surprise. His first mate scolds Roger, telling him that they had already lost their ship once because of him but Roger continues to laugh.

Rouge sees her opportunity. "Do you want to keep this going?"

The glint of interest in Roger's eyes tells her she's already won. The first mate throws his hands up in exasperation.

"What do you propose?"

"A little challenge, if I can keep your hat for twenty-four hours, you let me go and pay my bill at the bar. If not, I'll give you everything back and I'll even work for you while I pay off my debt."

Roger crosses his arms in front of him, smirking. "But I already got my ship back."

"I'll steal it again then," Rouge replies, matching his smile.

Roger's smile, if that's possible, widens further. His crew groans in frustration behind him, as if they already know what their captain is going to do. The first mate pulls out a bottle of rum and settles down on deck.

"On one condition, I get my hat back no matter what the outcome."

"You think I can win?" Rouge asks, raising an eyebrow. She knows she's going to win, but it's surprising that Roger accepts, thinking she has a chance.

"I wouldn't dream of underestimating you. I know what you're capable of, my flower," Roger replied grandiloquently, bowing to her.

"If that's it," Rouge whispers in his ear, making him shiver. "The twenty-four hours start now."

And she runs away again.

I love Roger and Rouge so much 😭😭😭

Please send me your headcanons for them or send prompts for me to share them! I haven’t written these two for a while and I want to spread my love again

(You can send for Shakky/Rayleigh or even other ships too!)