Conclusion After My First Whumptober Participation: 11 Stories. Not Too Bad, More Than I Expected, But

DAY 15: The Father's Mistakes Fall on the Son's Shoulders

The cycle repeats itself.

For this prompt, I was hesitating between Dean&John and Jack&Dean but my little sister suggested I do both so you'll have both. This story is not intended to bash characters but rather to show sons hurt by the actions of their parent figure and fathers realizing, too late, their mistakes. Because let's be honest, I love Dean but the way he treats Jack is often horrible and you might think he would learn from the way his own father raised him but noo. (Also, Dean is 17/18 in the first chapter.) Fandom: Supernatural Character(s): Dean Winchester Relationship(s): Dean Winchester & John Winchester, Jack Kline & Dean Winchester Words Count: 1,115 Trigger Warnings: - Minor Burn - Minor Blood and Injury - Dean's Canonical Self-Esteem Issues No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

Dean’s fingers were numb from the cold as he desperately tried to light his lighter. Every time he failed was another minute of Dad risking his life distracting the ghost. The metal dug painfully into his thumb with each failure and blood was already starting to trickle down his wrist.

“Come on, come on,” Dean whispered, his words forming a cloud of condensation in the abandoned house. Dean wasn’t sure if it was the freezing February temperatures or if the ghost had somehow escaped Dad but he didn’t plan on staying long enough to find out. “ Come on! ”

Finally, finally , a small flame flickered at the end of his lighter and Dean wasted no time in throwing his lighter into the hearth of the fireplace where the ghost's bones already lay covered in salt. The fire caught instantly, burning the tips of Dean's fingers when he didn't pull his hand away fast enough. He hissed in pain, blisters forming on his index and middle fingers.

Somewhere up the stairs, the ghost screamed as its soul was destroyed in a burst of yellow light.

Dean flopped down on the moth-eaten floorboards, kicking up a cloud of dust big enough to make him cough. When he opened his eyes again, Dad was in front of him, one hand out to help him up and his gun in the other.

“You really took your sweet time here,” Dad joked, but Dean couldn’t help but flinch. Dad either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it. “Let’s go find Sammy, he must be freezing out there.”

Dean grabbed his dad’s hand with his left and let himself be pulled to his feet. Dad looked at his face suspiciously.

“What’s wrong?” Dad asked.

(If they were a normal family, Dean would say it was worry that made his father frown. But normal families didn’t hunt deadly ghosts in the middle of the night, and Dean knew better.)

“Nothing,” Dean replied, hiding his hand in his jacket pocket, the sensitive skin of his fingers catching in the zipper.

“Dean,” Dad sighed, grabbing Dean’s elbow and forcing his hand out of his pocket. “Stop being so stubborn all the time.”

Dad tugged sharply at Dean's arm and grabbed his wrist, directing his hand toward the light of the flames. He whistled loudly as he saw the blisters forming on Dean's fingertips.

"I think we have some Biafine left in the car, you can ask Sammy to bandage you up," Dad ordered.

"There's no point," Dean protested, not wanting to waste bandages on a wound that would go away on its own in a few days.

"What did I just say?" Dad sighed. "Stop being so stubborn all the damn time. I don't want your dominant hand immobilized any longer than necessary."

It made sense. With his burn, Dean's grip on his gun wouldn't be as effective.

"And why are your hands so cold?" Dad asked, taking Dean's hands in his to warm them up, being careful with his injured fingers. "Don't you have gloves?"

"I gave them to Sammy, his had holes in them," Dean replied.

For a moment, they said nothing and Dean enjoyed the warmth of Dad's hands against his own. He was too old to hold his father's hand anymore but he missed it sometimes, the casual affection of the early days. An arm around his shoulders, a hand in his hair, a hug when he was scared.

But part of Dad had died with Mom in the fire and Dean didn't know how much of the soldier or father had survived.

"Come on Dee, let's get you warm," Dad said, letting go of his hands.

Dean was next to a fire but he had never been so cold. He followed his father's lead, shivering in his jacket with holes in his elbows. The drafts of the house wrapped around Dean like ghosts.

Outside the abandoned house, Sam stood watch next to the car, kicking the gravel to pass the time. When he saw Dean come out of the house, the kid's face lit up and Dean couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey Sammy, haven't you been too bored without me?" greeted Dean with a lazy smile.

Sam didn't have time to answer, a ghost flickered behind him as ice creeped up the car windows.

(Protect Sammy!)

Dean rushed toward Sam, shoving him out of the ghost’s reach with one arm and making a wide circle with the other, hitting the ghost with the iron-clad butt of his pistol. The ghost disappeared but not before briefly digging its hand into Dean’s ribcage and holding Dean’s heart ready to rip it out. A bitter cold gripped Dean and he collapsed to the ground, coughing up blood.

The ghost rematerialized a few feet away, Dean’s blood staining his shirt. Dad slammed the trunk of the car shut, yelling at Sam to duck and shooting salt at the ghost with his rifle.

His vision darkened and the screams of Dad and Sam grew distant around him, stretching out until Dean no longer recognized their voices. There was a flash of light, then silence.

(Dean was so cold.)

Arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him almost painfully against someone’s chest. The heavy grip around his arms was sure to leave bruises tomorrow and his aching ribs protested, a throbbing pain almost making it hard to breathe. Still, Dean wanted the person to never let go of him again.

Leather and tobacco.

“Dad?” Dean asked, his voice muffled in his father’s jacket. “I did good, right? I saved Sammy.”

“You did very well, son,” Dad answered, his voice strangely strangled. “I’m proud of you.”

Dean looked up and oh , Dad was crying. Why was Dad crying?

“It  hurts,” Dean said, the pain turning his vision white.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Dad apologized, his hand cradling Dean’s head tenderly, like he’d taught Dean to do when Sammy was a newborn. “We’re going to take you to the hospital.”

(Why was Dad apologizing? It wasn't his fault. Dean should have been faster. But he was so slow tonight.)

"Can we go home now?" Dean asked weakly, his eyes fluttering with fatigue.

There was blood on Dad's jacket in the shape of Dean's handprints. Everything he touched ended up covered in blood.

"Sure," Dad replied.

A familiar weight fell on his shoulders (leather and tobacco) as arms slid under his knees and armpits to lift him off the ground. Dean's feet left the ground and he bit back a gag as his head spun and spun.

(Dean wasn't cold anymore.)

"I'm sorry, Dean," Dad whispered as he walked toward the car.

There were still tears in his eyes.

But once he is gone who will I have?

tiktok / icarly / unknown / @/mothman / An Oresteia: Agamemnon, Aiskhylos / Bumble Ardy, Maurice Sendak / icarly / A Little Life, Hanya Yaragihara / The Fall Of The House Of Usher, Steven Berkoff / A living Chattel, Anton Chekhov

DAY 2 : Again.

Luffy relives the worst day of his life, over and over again.

I wasn't inspired by today's prompts so I chose one of the alternatives: Time Loop. Since I didn't have time to write everything, I'll post loop by loop as I go along, instead of all at once. This story is quite hard to read (and write), so pay attention to the warnings and take care of yourself above all <3 Trigger Warnings: - Graphic Description of Violence - Blood and Injuries - Burns - Major Character Death Fandom : One Piece (Anime & Manga) Character(s) : Monkey D. Luffy Relationship(s) : Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace Words Count : 1,548 No. 2: ALTERNATIVE  Time Loop

First Loop

Luffy struggled to retrieve Ace's Vivre Card that was slipping from his fingers. It was in front of him, just inches away, and yet unreachable. He didn't really know why, but he had to retrieve that Vivre Card. It was important, it was a part of Ace. He couldn't lose it. Nothing else mattered. The outside world faded into the background around him — the screams of agony, the smell of blood and smoke, the corpses he was stepping on to escape — leaving only the small burning piece of paper in his field of vision. 

(Ace had been burned by Akainu. His big brother, the one who always walked two steps ahead of him, unreachable and strong , the living embodiment of fire, had been burned . Sabo had died in the flames of an explosion. Luffy had forgotten it, but big brothers could burn too.)

Luffy's hand finally closed around Ace's Vivre Card and the panic that clouded his mind subdued. He had succeeded, Ace wouldn't leave him.

He had promised.

“You won't leave here alive!”

Luffy looked up and met Ace's desperate gaze. Why was Ace looking at him like that? He should be happy, Luffy had his Vivre Card back.

“Luffy!”

The flaming fist of Absolute Justice charged at him, invading his field of vision until all he could see was flames — stories whispered by a campfire, the burn of the Grey Terminal fire on his skin, Ace's arm around his shoulders in the middle of winter — and bloody red.

Oh.

Luffy wanted to move, should have moved, but he couldn't. The world was so fast when he was so slow, exhaustion slowing all his movements to the very core of his bones.

(If his crew was there, he could have rested for five minutes before going back into battle, but Luffy was alone .)

Suddenly, without Luffy understanding what was happening — he was so tired — Ace was in front of him, smiling sadly. Luffy's eyes widened in horror as he noticed the fist through Ace's body. The smell of burning flesh hit him in the face and Ace vomited blood, a retch shaking his entire body.

Akainu stepped back, removing his fist from Ace's body carelessly, Ace's guts falling to the ground, bloody and steaming. There was a hole in Ace's torso, where his lungs should have been. The skin around the wound was burned raw, sizzling with blisters and peeling away to the bone. And amidst the mess of ruined and damaged flesh, hidden behind his broken ribs, his brother's still beating heart. 

Thud, thud, thud.

Luffy focused on Ace's fading heartbeat, clinging to his brother's last breath of life. Ace wasn't dead yet! Luffy could still save him. Luffy remembered yelling at Akainu who was raising his fist once more to finish Ace off, but he didn't remember Jinbei and Ace's friends intervening.

Everything vanished when Ace fell to his knees in Luffy's arms. Luffy caught him, his hand red, red, red when he looked at it after touching Ace's back. Luffy placed his hand on the wound, trying to stop the endless bleeding. Ace slid into Luffy's arms, his head falling onto his shoulder, and Luffy tightened his grip around Ace, refusing to let him go.

"I'm sorry, Luffy," Ace struggled to say, choking. "I'm so sorry, I stopped you from saving me properly. Forgive me.”

Ace was breathing heavily, just talking, draining him of his meager strength. Blood was dripping down Luffy's shoulder in large drops.

"What are you talking about? Stop talking nonsense!"

Ace wasn't dying, Luffy could still feel his heart beating between his fingers. Ace wasn't dying. He couldn't die. He had promised. He couldn't die.

"Someone!" Luffy begged, screaming until his vocal cords broke, feeling the heat leave Ace's body. “Heal his wounds! Save Ace!”

Luffy didn't like the cold. Cold meant being alone in the night, cold meant an empty place in the treehouse. Cold meant Death.

"Luffy stop," Ace said weakly. "My time has come. He burned me from the inside out, I won't make it this time.”

And Ace was never weak. He was bold and brash and mean at times, a raging fire. Never weak, always strong. Ace was the reason Luffy survived Sabo's death. Because Ace was strong where Luffy wasn't, learning to be kind and caring for Luffy.

Ace was strong .

Luffy wasn't.

“No! You promised”! Luffy refused, understanding what his big brother meant. “You told me Ace, right? You said you wouldn't die!”

Because Ace was strong but he was also stupid. He forgot obvious things sometimes and Luffy had to remind him. Like the fact that Luffy loved him. But if Luffy reminded him of his promise, then maybe Ace wouldn't die.

“You promised,” Luffy stopped himself from sobbing. Ace didn't like whiners.

“You know, if it wasn't for Sabo, if I didn't have a little brother like you to watch over. I wouldn't have wanted to live.” Luffy's heart clenched painfully in his chest. “No one wanted me after all. So it's completely normal.”

Ace clung to Luffy like a lifeline, as if Luffy was the only thing keeping him alive. Luffy was terrified that he wouldn’t be enough to keep Ace alive for a little longer.

“Oh right, if you ever run into Dadan again, could you say goodbye for me?” Ace laughed softly, his laughter cut off by a coughing fit. “It’s strange, now that I’m about to die, I feel like I miss her.”

Ace’s breath was labored, his voice hoarse. And Luffy didn’t dare look — because if he did, he’d have to face his big brother’s dying face — but he was pretty sure Ace was crying, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“I only have one regret, and that’s not seeing your dream come true. But I know you, you’ll get there, that’s for sure.” Ace and Sabo had been among the first to hear his dream, among the first to believe in him. “You're my brother after all.”

Luffy had two brothers. One had been dead for over ten years, the other was dying in his arms. Who was going to believe in his dreams now?

And yet Luffy couldn't do anything. He was frozen, afraid that the slightest movement would make things worse. The only thing he could do was hold his brother in his arms as he died, hoping that Ace would feel all the love Luffy had for him.

Ace was loved. He had to know that, right ?

"As we promised each other back then, I have no regrets about the life I led."

This time, Luffy couldn't help but protest. This wasn't how it was going to end. It couldn't be.

(Ace's heartbeat was getting slower and slower, more and more rare.)

"No, you're lying!"

"No, it's true!" Ace insisted, his fingers digging painfully into Luffy's shoulder with a surprising strength for a dead man. “It seems that what I always wanted in the end wasn't fame or glory. But just the answer to my question. Why did I come into this world? "

Ace had always been haunted by his past, by the past of those who had come before him, that of his parents. But Luffy didn't live in the past, he didn't care who Ace's father was. What mattered was the present, what mattered was that Ace was Luffy 's brother.

Ace was Ace and that was all that mattered. Ace had always been enough.

"Luffy, I want you to listen to what I have to say and tell the others afterwards," Luffy knew at that moment that his brother's words would be his last. He wasn't ready for that. “Even though I've been a good-for-nothing my whole life, even though I carry the blood of a demon.”

The fighting raged around them and yet it had never been interrupted. Ace's family fought to give them one last moment, one last hug.

"Thank you for loving me!"

Crying, Ace formed a smile on his lips for the last time. Ace collapsed in Luffy's arms, his hand falling from Luffy's neck where Ace had clung to during his final moments, leaving a trail of blood along Luffy's cheek.

Ace fell to the ground, alive one moment, dead the next, and Luffy screamed out all his pain and sorrow, inaudible amidst the horrors of war. Ace was dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. 

Ace was dead.

Ace.

Was.

Dead.

Ace was dead.

Years of memories flashed through Luffy's mind in a split second - all ending with the same tragic phrase "thank you for loving me", all ending with Ace's death - shattering his psyche to the last piece.

They were always meant to end up here - Ace, dead and Luffy, helpless - there was nothing Luffy could have done to change things.

“ACE!!!”

In the end, when the darkness reached out to him, Luffy welcomed it willingly. Luffy fell into nothingness, hoping to never come out. Not if it meant living in a world alone.

Click. Again .

Shout-out to multilingual writers who are writing in their second (or third and so on) language.

The frustration of speaking it fluently, but still having to google basic words when you're writing.

The absolute joy of finding a word that sounds just perfect and conveys exactly what you mean.

Doubting all your grammar and being afraid to post it or even send it to a beta reader.

The euphoria of someone calling your use of this language, that is not your mother tongue, beautiful.

buying him time

@bartylily-microfics | april 2 | rainstorm | 828 words | warnings: none

After the Rain

Thunder rumbled in the distance the moment Lily stepped outside the library, dark clouds stretching across the summer sky. She quickened her pace, hoping to reach the bus stop before the rain started. The ozone in the air tingled her nose in the best way possible, sky and earth intermingling in her lungs. She loved that feeling just before the storm—before the world fractured in a burst of lightning. It was like standing on the edge of a building, never leaning too far to one side or the other.

Lily had lived her whole life like this, on the verge of explosion. But she had everything perfectly under control.

Flood poured from the sky. Raindrops hit her skin as she ran to the nearest awning, pulling her jacket over her head. It was just her luck that she chose to take a tote bag today, her computer and books were going to get wet. Lily leaned against the wall of a closed cafe, watching the rainstorm unravel before her eyes.

The streets were deserted, as always in August in their town, everyone having gone on vacation. Except for—

“Fancy seeing you here, Evans.” Barty's voice was dripping with sarcasm, a smirk tugging at his lips. He ran his hand through his wet hair, strands of green-dyed hair escaping through his fingers.

Lily kinda wanted to kick him. 

“What are you doing here, Crouch? I thought you would be on the French Riviera this time of year,” Lily retorted, more out of habit than anything else.

She and Barty weren't exactly friends, rather their friends were friends (and some of them were dating depending on the week) and they had known each other since elementary school. They had some sort of unofficial academic competition and Lily hated his guts most of the time.

Lily had accompanied him to throw eggs at his father's company at the beginning of the year. Barty had brought her food every night during exam periods.

“I bailed,” Barty shrugged as he sat down next to her, pressing his shoulder against hers. “There's no place I'd rather be than here.” 

Lily's laugh caught in her throat, shivering as her wet denim jacket clung to her skin, drops of water running down the back of her neck. Her half-undone braid fell pathetically over her shoulder, and she'd caught a glimpse of her smudged eyeliner in the window earlier. 

She looked as tired as she felt, and school didn't start for another week.

“So, Lils,” Barty drawled, “what are you doing here? It's pretty dead this time of year.”

“I just wanted to be ready for the start of the year. I really need this full scholarship to go to college.” Lily replied. Two years ago, she would have rather died than admit this to Barty Crouch Jr, but if anyone could understand the crushing weight of expectations, it was him.

There was no pity, compassion, or disapproval in his eyes as he smiled at her, just understanding and amused fondness. “Looks like we'll be continuing our little date nights this year too.”

“Looks like it,” Lily said, realizing with a flutter how close Barty's face was to hers. He had a new piercing above his eyebrow. 

“I missed you this summer,” Barty said, his eyes lingering on her lips. 

Lifting her head, Lily straightened up to kiss Barty on the cheek before resting her head on his shoulder. She stared straight ahead, watching puddles form on the road, the occasional car driving through them and sending drops flying into the air, as she whispered. “Me too.”

The rain beat against the roof reassuringly and comfortingly as Barty put an arm around her shoulders. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sticking one between his lips. His lighter flickered before lighting, the end of his cigarette igniting and Barty inhaled, throwing his head back. The tattoo on his throat stretched over his Adam's apple, disappearing beneath his white t-shirt.

“How’s your sister?” Barty asked, smoke escaping from his lips. 

“How's your father?” Lily retorted, playing with the rings on Barty's fingers.

The laughter they shared was bitter. Barty offered her his cigarette and Lily blew the smoke in his face playfully. Barty pinched her ribs and Lily doubled over, a laugh ripping out of her. 

“You should laugh more often,” Barty breathed into her ear, his lips grazing her skin.

Lily sighed contentedly, leaning into Barty's chest, a blissful smile illuminating her face. She stole the cigarette from Barty's hand again, letting it burn between her lips.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Crouch,” Lily said light-heartedly. 

"I wouldn't dare," Barty grinned lazily, tucking a strand of Lily's hair behind her ear. He flicked her dangling earring with his fingertip. “New earrings?” 

Lily shook her head affectionately, stealing another cigarette from Barty's pocket. Together they watched the rain fall and the sun rise behind the clouds, a rainbow forming above the buildings. 

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!

Never felt less patriotic than when Simone Bills and Ilona Maher show up on my screen. I mean, they're everything. What do you mean I'm supposed to cheer for my own country ?

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.

hecate