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We're counting down the days until the reveal - 21 fanfic authors have gotten together for a Cosmere fanfic gift exchange with a femslash theme! All fics will focus on at least two female characters from across the Cosmere. Fics range from General to Explicit ratings. The fanfic reveal will happen on Sep 26th, 2023 - Bi Shallan confirmation day! Check out the Collection here, starting on the 26th!

A soulcaster pays a visit to the Nightwatcher.

Here is the prologue: It should be noted that more content may be added. He was in control. Absorption held them like cards. He could play them at any time. He could kill them without a thought. His rule - so magnificent. He was in control. He walked into a room. No one ran. If you ran, you were already dead. He shot the wall. The screams ensued. He laughed. He was in control. The epic had already fled the place, but there was a point to be made. Those who defy his rule are dead. Each shot sank into flesh. He just shot the wall, but it was the wall that remained unharmed. The people all had bullets in their faces, a big gaping hole almost reminding of a third eye. A man tried to shoot him. A bullet ended up in the man's chest right as it hit Absorption. Absorption was unharmed. The epic would come back. The scene here was just a fraction of his power. A reminder of the true threat to the epic. After all, the bullets could've as easily been in the puny little epic's throat. He was, in theory, inevitable. He took his maniac laughter outside. There the people of the streets glanced at him with concern. They knew they could die at any moment. They were afraid. As they should be. After all, he was in control. ##### Chapter 1: The moment replayed itself in Recapture's pristine memory. The smirk on Absorption's face as he walked into the store. It was a surprisingly normal location for such a big incident. It was a walmart. It was also the secret liar of the Voidcaller, a minor epic with invisibility powers and Radiation powers. That's right. The tyrant of the century's weakness was radiation. Absorption - the closest thing to a god - was killed by this guy. Nothing moved. Recapture was in a frame. Nothing moved in a frame. It was captured. Caught in the act. The Voidcaller; the mastermind behind the kill, was a 62 year old man. By touching his past frame, he could glean every moment of his life. The voidcaller's life. not his. There was once a man named Arelythis. His dad died while fighting in the second world war. His mom fled germany to get a better life and met his father. They lived together for 4 years before having Arelythis. Their child, had been an academic master. Aced all his courses. But his parents would never be proud of him. He always failed to meet their expectations. His peers only laughed at him. He had beaten the systems of education, but never his parent's sky high expectations. After an argument in February 1989, Arelythis left his family for good. He purchased a one-way ticket to Sydney, Australia, and settled there. He got a job as a software engineer for public transport systems and lived a happy normal life. Until calamity rose. Arelythis then hid from the roaming epics in the remainder of australia, now called the wastelands. Then, three and a half years after Calamity started burdening the skies with it's hellish glow, Arelythis gained his powers as the voidcaller. He slowly made his way to Alensdale, California, leaving a trail of radioactive wasteland. Everywhere he went, he ridded the world of epics. He considered it a mercy. Recapture now knew what he needed to know about the Voidcaller. Not that his name was Arelythis. Not that he came from the wastelands. Recapture now knew why Arelythis considered it a mercy to kill Absorption. Not an act of kindness, or an act of displaying power, but an Act of mercy. The truth was disgusting. Recapture snapped back to reality. He told Aerie what the air manipulator needed to hear. "Down the street. Next to the pre-calamity barber. Greenish house with bricks on the right." Aerie would never know the truth. The disgusting horrible truth. Aerie would kill that epic. It was, after all, a mercy to kill an epic. Chapter 2: It was a very quiet room for a god slaying menace to be hiding in. Aerie was almost surprised to see Voidcaller as an old man, maybe in his 60’s or so. He was the only man in the room. Voidcaller had the power to go invisible. Right. Aerie reached out with tendrils of air, trying to feel everything in the room. Nothing, no one. He checked behind him. The door was still as he had left it. Aerie looked back to the old man squatting in the corner. Wait. Where was that old man? Aerie felt something disturb the air. He created a bubble of air around it and popped it. That would kill anything within it. Then his danger sense went off, and Aerie was almost forced – it was more like a guiding sense – to fly upwards, crushing the roof with a burst of air pressure. The area blew up with a purple explosion. A man lay in the crater. Alive. He was alive. The air was moving in and out of his lungs. He wanted Aerie to believe he was dead. Aerie walked right up to the coward. Most epics had a cool down on their powers, and couldn’t use them right after. And he grabbed the Voidcaller – a 62 year old man with a sense of age on his face – by the neck, and used air pressure to rip open his chest. It was painful for both of them. Aerie always hated blood and gore, but he had to make a public impression. Aerie smiled as he brushed off the pieces of the Voidcaller’s chest cavity. It felt good to kill. Sparks. It felt good. - - - - It wasn’t long before Recapture asked if the Voidcaller was truly dead. Which he was. Aerie was certain of it. He had scattered the pieces far enough that a healing epic couldn’t save him, and he heard no report of resurrecting old people roaming the streets. Recapture was a coward. A true coward. One that hid behind the greater epics. Epics like himself. Insolence was a blockade. Strength and Invincibility were Insolence’s powers. What either of those powers had to do with insolation was beyond Aerie’s imagination. But he was going to get in Aerie’s way. Insolence didn’t know any of Aerie’s plans, so he was not a high priority target. Aerie’s low target enemy was adamant about Absorption being alive. He believed that Absorption is faking is death, and when he returns, those loyal to him will prosper. That was, undoubtedly, false. “We should be recruiting all the epics. Telling them to stay in line or else –“ Insolence motioned a cutthroat with his fingers, “Absorption will deal with them.” Recapture was impartial to everything. Whether that scared Aerie or not was concerning, but that was not a problem. The three of them: Aerie, Recapture, and Insolence were the tools of Absorption’s rule. They didn’t really get a choice about working for him. The way it would work was that you would receive a letter. The letter that thousands of epics received. Only around half of them lived. You could hide, but you couldn’t run. Absorption could kill you from any distance. The letter had a message from Absorption. Aerie’s letter had the message: I do not care where you are. You must come to Alensdale in five days, or I will kill you. And you cannot hide. It still chilled Aerie. The words were so crude. Absorption didn’t need to care who you were. He won either way. He didn’t need to bother with persuasive language. He was in control. “Well, then. I’ll make sure that people fall into line then.” Aerie responded. He would make them all fall into line. All of them. Just like how Absorption did it. Everyone was following the rules. And the rules would be made by Aerie. He had waited a long time for this moment. And he would savor it. ##### BTW future chapters will be posted here. Maybe in spoiler boxes. Idk. Chapter 3: Chapter 4

The Call to Adventure! (see what I did there) 39,000 words, Teen/Mature/Explicit (see below for more details) Shakadolin, romance, friendship, sexual situations, polyamory negotiations, choose your own adventure style, asexual Kaladin, aroace Kaladin, bisexual Kaladin, questioning Kaladin, demisexual Kaladin Shallan and Adolin have been sort of kind of engaged for the last few years, and Kaladin has been an increasingly closer friend. But Shallan and Adolin have been talking about their relationship, and now Shallan has a proposal of her own for Kaladin… This is a choose your own adventure for Kaladin! What kind of relationship does he want to have with them, and how will he make that happen? The story guides through three questions and has eight happy endings ranging from platonic friendship to explicit sex. It takes place in a Canada modern AU setting and it references characters, themes, and quotes from Stormlight, all the way through to RoW. You will be amply warned for the rating of each chapter before you click! Teen chapters have discussions of sex and relationships in broad terms that one might find in a teen drama. Mature has discussions with more blatant sexual themes, complex emotions, and/or internalized acephobia/biphobia. Explicit has detailed descriptions of people having sex. There will be more details given at the top of chapters to help you out. Teen-rated excerpt below:

As the title says, I am planning a short story set on Monody, first planet in the Threnodite system. Is this something you guys would want to see posted, or should I keep it to myself? Also I am not sure about Dragonsteel's stance on unapproved derivative works, does anyone know if they would have a problem with me posting a story set in their IP? I've got some pretty decent brainstorming done and I think I came up with very interesting ideas. I wanted to hear your opinions on this before I started though.

Rated Teen, 3000 words, Lyn/Laran Summary: Lyn just broke up with her boyfriend a couple weeks ago. Laran has caught her eye, but is it too soon? To be respectful to her ex’s feelings, Lyn decides to wait a while, but it’s difficult when Laran looks at her Like That… Keep reading (link to ao3)

So. It's been a while since I posted a topic here. It's not that I didn't create anything; I just had a different outlet for it. Anyway, this is something I wanted to publish for a somewhat bigger audience. We'll see how this goes. I didn't think of writing this on my own: @Knight of Iron came up with the idea. After I ranted a bit about how a Harry Potter crossover fic annoyed me, he said: "hey, maybe you can write a fanfic of Gal going to Hogwarts." To those of you who don't know, Gal is a character I built for @Tesh's Let's Go Find a Dragon RP - you can find the character sheet in my about me here. He used a prototype of a magic system I wrote about here, and was partially a self insert, partially curiosity incarnate (he was part of the reason I chose Ookla the Questioning to be my Ookla name). He had a personality to him, I think. Anyway, I liked Knight's idea, and after moving and changing things a bit - with some thought here and there - I present to you this fic. I promise you, the title isn't deceiving. Hermione isn't the main PoV character at first, but she will get her due. The fic itself takes place at the time of the original books - supposedly it may go through the entire series, depending on how far I'll be able to take it. It's going to be a bit slow paced on the start, I think, but I hope to pick up a faster pace later. Anyway, tagging the third person who expressed interest - @Condensation, I summon thee! - and we may begin. Chapter 1, which is unnamed as of yet: If you spot spelling errors, lack of necessary elaborations, overt elaboration in wrong places or other problems do tell. There shouldn't be much of the former, but the latter two are definitely a possibility. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading this! Again, it'll take some time for the story to really take off, so please be patient.

A bit of a Marsh character study set after Kelsier and Mare are imprisoned in the pits. Rated general, angst because it's Marsh. All pairings are canon. Constructive criticism welcome. This is also posted on Ao3 and Fanfiction.net under the names MentallyIllTelepath and the7horcrux respectively. (I hope I'm doing the format right, I'm kind of new to this site) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kelsier was grinning again. Marsh could barely glance at that smile without his blood turning to ice—that insufferable smile. And, almost worse, it was directed at Mare. The woman that Kelsier had won because he always won. "Marsh is worrying again." Mare said, her dark eyes sparkling. Lord Ruler. "Marsh is always worrying." Kelsier said dismissively. Marsh bit back a scathing reply—Kelsier didn't deserve that—but maybe that's the reason I'm the one doing good in the world while you're stealing from the Lord Ruler's stronghold, you have more money than any man could ever need, why—? "Perhaps if you weren't so cavalier about this I wouldn't need to." He said. Mare's lips curled up in Marsh's direction. His pulse thudded. Stop it. So, maybe there was another reason why Marsh found Kelsier's smile insufferable. "Marsh would worry if the plants were green and the sky was yellow." Mare said cheerfully. "It's just who he is. I have to worry, Marsh thought. Because you never do. He forcibly brought his eyes back down the table. "This job is going to be perfect." Kelsier said, unbearably confident as always. "We're breaking into Kredik Shaw itself! Mare, after this job, we'll have enough money to go somewhere where we won't have to run anymore." Wouldn't that be nice. Marsh knew that Kelsier and Mare could leave this afternoon if they wanted to, but for some reason they always had another excuse. Mare laughed, the sound like bells. Kelsier scooped her up and they spun together, their hair flying. Her joy was contagious. Marsh almost smiled, himself. Almost. "Anyway, Marsh, you're sure you can trust who you're sending?" Kelsier asked, blowing a strand of his blond hair off his face. "As much as you can trust anyone in the underground." Marsh replied. "I've worked with him before. But you won't be telling him enough of the plan to do any damage anyway, correct?" Mare nodded. "Only Kelsier and I know the full plan." Marsh only knew the details that would help his part of the job. Kelsier didn't fully trust him—that was fine. The fact that Mare didn't trust him was the thing that hurt him the most, though he didn't admit it. "I'll instruct him to meet him outside Venture Manor. He'll be wearing a blue cloak—his name's Redd." "Thanks, Marsh. I'll give you some of the cut." "That would be appreciated." "You can use it for that… rebellion you're running." Marsh stiffened. He just had to bring that up. "Yes, how is that going?" Mare asked, genuinely curious. Marsh carefully unclenched his hands. "The skaa refuse to rise up, and the few who have joined us are criminals of the worst kind running from the Lord Ruler, but we can't turn them away. We have few numbers as it is." "Marsh, we're criminals." Kelsier noted, smiling. "At least I do good with what I steal." The words were out before he could stop them, and Mare looked at him. Marsh drew in a slow, steady breath. "I apologize. That was uncalled for." "We'll be doing good." His brother wasn't smiling anymore. "The Lord Ruler will have a sizeable dent in his fortune." Marsh didn't trust himself to respond and instead inclined his head. Mare was studying his face with a gaze that seemed to pierce his soul. He looked away. "Send me word once you've finished the job, if you would." "We will." Mare said—Kelsier didn't say anything. His eyes were cold, flinty. In these moments, Kelsier's resemblance to their father was striking. He stood and nodded to them. The two brothers didn't hug. They hadn't done so since they were children. Marsh watched their retreating backs and couldn't repress a chill up his spine. Dockson's eyes were red. Marsh's fingers felt cold. "Marsh," Dockson greeted him. His voice was smooth as always, but Marsh thought he detected a slight tremor. "Dockson." He waited, his heart thudding. "News?" The only tie he had to the man was Dockson's status as Kelsier's right hand man. As the leader of the rebellion, he had kept good ties with many in the underground in case he ever needed a job—but he didn't know Dockson well. He told himself that he had other contacts, but the part of him that was brutally honest told him that he tended to stay away from anyone associated with Kelsier. The other man avoided eye contact. "Marsh, I'm afraid I've just received word that Kelsier and Mare…" He looked away and cleared his throat several times. "They've—they've been sent to the Pits of Hathsin." Marsh felt a sudden surge of coldness. Of course, he hadn't heard from them in a few months but he'd… he'd just assumed… "Who told you?" He asked, ignoring his trembling hands. Dockson took a step back. "A contact I trust." "Who?" Dockson rubbed the back of his neck. "Cladent, the skaa woodworker. He used to be in the army and knows someone who guards the Pits." Marsh spun on a heel and found himself facing the only window in his house. A red sun in the sky. Had it always been red? Mare said once that it had… it had used to be yellow… "I'm sorry. I know that you and Kelsier grew up together." Dockson said. Marsh realized with a start that he hadn't thought once of Kelsier. He didn't turn around. "Thank you for bringing me this news." He was proud to say that his voice was perfectly even. A few moments later he heard the door shut. That night, Marsh laid in bed, his eyes perfectly dry. His chest ached. He hadn't cried yet. Mare at least deserved tears. Of course he felt grief about Kelsier (of course he did) for anyone who was sent to the Pits of Hathsin never returned. It was as good as a death sentence. He wasn't sure it had sunk in yet. Kelsier was always just there, an immovable certainty in Marsh's life. Someone who would always be doing ridiculous, reckless jobs that he always pulled off, somehow. The brother who everyone had always liked more—the brother who Mare had picked instead of him. The one who survived, despite everything. Marsh left the rebellion the next day. No explanations, though his subordinates badgered him for one. No excuses, not even to himself. Because if Kelsier and Mare were dead, what chance did Marsh have? In the end, one thing about Kelsier had always irritated him the most. Kelsier had bravery—a trait that Marsh had always wished he had had. And Mare—she had kindness. What did Marsh have? Responsibility that he had never shirked, and that had gotten him nowhere. A mind for figures and memorization that had stuck him in his father's ledger accounting while Kelsier went to balls and represented the house. A cold heart that no one had been able to soften, and the woman that had finally melted it hadn't been his to lose. She was Kelsier's, because he had bravery, and that insufferable smile.

Renarin's Special Interest - rated General, 1700 words - please check it out on ao3 and give me a kudos if you liked it! Note mild Rhythm of War spoilers! At the top of a large hill overlooking the Coalition armies, in her command tent, Jasnah spread her hand over the pages on her temporary desk, trying to keep her research from flying away. If she had the time or the inclination to take in the view outside the tent, she would see the open, rolling green landscape of Emul. Wit had assured her it was quite the panorama. She said she’d take him at his word. The wind was a menace, sneaking in through openings near the ground and at the entrances, with enough power to necessitate paperweights on almost every sheet of paper on her desk. She’d wasted enough time turning whatever she could find to stone so she could reference as many sources as possible. She copied passages furiously, trying to catch up on her study of battle formations before the next meeting. She didn't want to embarrass herself in front of the generals…again. A gust of wind threatened to flip the pages of the book she was reading. “If you’re going to just sit there anyway, could you hold down this page for me so I can read it without the wind interrupting me every ten seconds?” Renarin stood and pulled his chair forward, then held the page as she directed. "Did you know the listeners don't just have Rhythms for their emotions?” he asked. “They have songs too." Jasnah ignored him and kept working. As annoying as it was to have Renarin blathering on about whatever topic was fascinating him at the moment, it was also a comfort. He still trusted her enough to be near her. His presence was a precious gift, one she didn’t deserve, but she would accept it gladly--even if it did interrupt her focus at times. “They have songs that tell grand mythologies and lore, just like us, but they also have songs for more mundane things.” Renarin tapped a finger on the page. “They have a song for making paper. That’s interesting, right?” “Mmm hmm,” Jasnah hummed noncommittally, trying to stay focused. “It can’t decide if it would be masculine or feminine to sing a song of how to do something. It seems like an excellent method of memorization that doesn’t involve writing,” he went on. “Then again, creating a song like that would be an art, I suppose. There doesn’t seem to be a strong argument one way or another.” Her cousin had always been highly motivated to follow masculine practices, though sometimes he had trouble telling the difference on his own. His statement almost sounded like he was asking her opinion, though Jasnah knew that if that were his purpose, he would have asked her directly. Nevertheless, she decided to offer it. “It would be a masculine thing to do, I believe,” she said absently. “The composing would be feminine, but the performance, for the purpose of everyday tasks, would be masculine.” “Oh.” Renarin scratched his chin. Lately, his face seemed to have more stubble every day. “That’s good.” “Mmm hmm,” she murmured, focusing back on her work. She gestured to Renarin to lift his fingers and she flipped the pages of her reference book, skipping small-formation tactics. She would need to start with the bigger picture. She could work her way down to the minutiae later. She found the page she was looking for. “Here, please, Cousin,” she said, and he obliged her. Now, there seemed to be at least six distinct philosophies regarding larger battle tactics... “The relationship that the listeners have with the Stormfather is complex,” Renarin continued. “The Stormfather is a god to them, but they have a severed relationship. They still respect him though. Do you know what they call the Stormfather?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “The Rider of the Storm. They know Highstorms are incredibly dangerous, and yet they still go out into them to change forms. Some listeners bring a large shield, but that just seems unwieldy, in those winds. I wonder how often they change forms.” “Yes, fascinating,” Jasnah intoned. “It seems brave.” “Mmm hmm.” There was a long pause. Finally, some silence. The entrance to the tent flapped angrily, and a cold breeze blew in. Jasnah sucked up some Stormlight for warmth rather than stand to get a cloak. She noticed Renarin do the same, and a warmth bloomed in her chest. Unfortunately, the happiness she felt at their Radiant kinship was marred by her guilt from attempting to kill him. What’s done is done, she thought. What matters is that I chose correctly. I hope. She still wasn’t sure what to make of his corrupted spren or his powers, but Navani was looking into it. Jasnah had enough on her plate. “Did you know that listeners hear the same beat of the Rhythms of Roshar, no matter where they are?” Renarin asked. “That’s why it seemed like they could communicate with each other across large distances. They were attuning the same Rhythms.” “Yes,” Jasnah said absently, and scribbled rhythm instead of reconnaissance. She sighed, crossing the word through top and bottom and moving on. No time to start a new page. “It connects them on a fundamental level. Imagine being apart from someone but knowing you were still attuning the exact same Rhythms. I think it would be great to learn them,” he droned on. “Besides, it’s nice to know exactly what someone is feeling without having to ask.” He started to list the different Rhythms he knew. “Determination, Pain, Longing, Amusement…” Jasnah gritted her teeth. When Renarin had been obsessed with wines, it had been easy to shut out the information. But this…this was actually fascinating, and potentially useful for the fight. Where was he getting this information? As if to provide her an opening, Renarin finished his list. “My favourite Rhythm is Peace.” Jasnah put down her pen and crossed her arms. “You’ve been practicing?” she asked with a hint of amusement. Renarin stammered. “Well, I mean…I’m not good at it,” he said. She pulled out a blank piece of paper and started to jot some quick notes on Renarin’s monologue. “Who is teaching you this?” she asked. “Rlain.” “Ah, of course. The listener spy.” That was a logical connection. Renarin had been a member of Bridge Four, and still spent a lot of time with them. With the men, or with Rlain? She tapped her page. She wanted to explore this further. “Do you trust the information you are getting from him, despite the fact that he was a spy for years?” Renarin looked down and pulled out his fidgeting box. “Yes.” “And what reasons do you have to trust him?” “He’s Bridge Four. He left the listeners and gave us crucial information we needed for the battle at Narak. He’s stayed with Bridge Four ever since, even though his people all died. He had no reason to stay with us, but he did because it was right. He’s shared critical information with me and Aunt Navani. He’s helping us grow crops at Urithiru.” He put away his box and looked up at Jasnah’s face. “He wants to help. He’s a good man.” Jasnah raised an eyebrow, but nodded. Interesting. “And he’s teaching you songs?” Renarin looked down at his hands. “Ah. Well, Rhythms. But yeah.” She reviewed her thoughts, reading below the lines, so to speak. He likes that he can tell what Rlain is feeling. He’s been memorizing the Rhythms, and every fact he can get about listeners. He thinks they’re brave when they change forms. He wonders how often they do it. He wants to learn Rlain's songs, as long as it’s masculine. Jasnah tilted her head, the hint of a smile threatening her cheek. “Renarin, what is your favourite fact about listeners?” His expression perked up and he sat up straighter. “Did you know that their babies have orange-pink carapace? It darkens to red as they get older.” Jasnah raised both eyebrows, and her smile made good on its threat. I never thought I would see this day! “Are you planning on raising little listener babies with Rlain, dear Cousin?” Renarin’s eyes went wide, and his face puckered as if he was trying to pull his lips into his closed mouth. “...What?” “Renarin, I have been acquainted with you long enough to know that the subjects of your special interests are always related to the people you care about. You wanted to please your brother, so you learned everything about horses, even though you didn’t ride. You love your mother, so you learned about Riran religious traditions, culture, and language. You learned about wine for the sake of your father’s love. And now, dear Cousin, I find you obsessed with listener culture and biology. I think it means you care for this Rlain.” Her speculation was rewarded with a series of facial expressions that indicated 1) he had not been aware of the themes of his obsessions, 2) he was unable to rebut her argument, and 3) he was now aware of certain feelings he had towards this listener. Finally, he met her eyes, his expression determined. He stood slowly. “I–Thank you,” he said, looking towards the door flap. “I need to go think for a while.” He left abruptly without asking the permission of his Queen, but Jasnah allowed him this one indiscretion. After all, the poor boy wouldn’t be able to be indiscreet again until after he returned to Urithiru. Storms alight, was that wordplay? she thought, affronted at herself. I have spent too much time around Shallan. She narrowed her eyes. Or is this Wit’s fault? Yes, easier and more convenient to blame him. Shaking her head with a smile, she reached down and picked up a stick that had blown in. She reached into the Cognitive Realm in her mind. “I am a stick,” it said. “You are a paperweight, and you will be happy about it,” she retorted. She opened her eyes in the Physical Realm, placed it on her book, and got back to work.

Hello, I have written this story as a gift for my husband's birthday, he enjoyed it and said I should post it here. I thought it would be great to get some less-biased feedback (there is no telling how much of his enthusiasm is about the story and how much about me writing it for him, haha), and agreed. So here we go. A few notes on the fanfic. First, it takes place between the second and the third books of the Stormlight Archive. It assumes that you are familiar with Roshar and doesn't spend page space describing either the magic system or the world. Second, even though I had a very specific target audience and most of the characters are reminiscent of people in our lives, it is fiction enough to be read by any Stormlight fan. I hope you enjoy it! Third, it is 39,000 words, half detective story, half romace. P.S. it is the first piece of fiction I have ever written, so constructive criticism is very welcome. I intend to keep improving on this The Greatest Discovery.pdf

Pen Pals (link to ao3) Rated Teen, 700 words. Created for Cosmere Bingo for the prompt pen pals. Summary: Jasnah reconnects by spanreed with her good friend and fellow Veristitalian, Ethid. Jasnah discovers a little truth about herself, and why she has been reluctant to graduate her ward. In the fic, this is a portrait of Shallan by Jasnah:

My first fanfic ended up accidentally becoming a novel! I hope people will read and enjoy it. The focus is on Kaladin working on healing from PTSD and depression in the context of a relationship with Adolin, and later, Shallan. It's got some hurt but a lot of comfort, and humour too https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727975/chapters/73115628

I was going through some of my old writing and found the beginning of a fanfic I wrote from all the way back in 2018. A few people wanted to read it, and since I don't currently plan on finishing it, I thought I could post what I already have. I made some quick edits, but it's mostly untouched. I'm not completely happy with this, though, especially towards the end. I might to come back to it at some point, but I'm not in the right mindset for it right now, and I have some other projects I'd like to finish first. This is also the first fic I've posted anywhere, and storms, it's nerve-wracking. It's a crossover fic with various main characters from the cosmere books all attending Shallan and Adolin's wedding, and it's as ridiculous as it sounds. I wrote this purely for fun, with no regard for realism or continuity. I will warn you, this is very unfinished and quite rough, and doesn't feature all of the characters I'd like it to. The scenes end rather abruptly as well, and there's no proper ending. Despite all of this, I hope you enjoy it! It's so hard to press the submit button... *crawls into a corner and hides* Tagging the people who replied to the status update

I've begun writing a crossover wherein Ranma Saotome of Ranma 1/2 fame gets dropped—via a Magic Item of the Week in his universe—into the middle of a highstorm on the Shattered Plains. It's still early in the story, so there's not a ton of divergence yet, but hopefully you find it enjoyable. https://archiveofourown.org/works/38174626/chapters/95371264

Wishes Come True (Not Free) --Rated T, 1,701 words. Warning for major character death This is a backstory oneshot for one of my main Reckoners OCs (who also is in another fic, but it's not necessary to read that one to understand this)

I wrote a fanfic about Shallan starting to come to terms with her privilege as a lighteyes. She is Transformed through three keteks that Ishnah wrote for her as part of a research project. Here is the ao3 link to the fic, and below are the three keteks.

There are now 8 works in the Rhythms of Desire Collection! All these fics feature singers, listeners, and/or Fused in situations that range from romantic to explicit. Please be kind to yourself and everyone around you - beware the ratings and the tags! The Rhythm of the Lost - Rated Teen, 1100 words Dul and Mazish gain sapience and take Mateform together. The Rhythm of Tension - Rated Mature, 3000 words Several months into their relationship, Renarin and Rlain visit the Listeners together. Renarin is looking forward to getting to know Rlain's childhood friends a little better. Five Rhythms - Rated Mature, 6500 words A series of five interrelated vignettes, exploring Renarin and Rlain's relationship through Rlain's forms - Scholarform, Mateform - and through rhythms - Anticipation, Mourning, Victory. Felled By You, Held By You - Rated Mature, 6000 words (new!) During their research, the tension and curiosity between Navani and Raboniel grows until neither of them can (or want to) deny it. If We Have Each Other - Rated Mature, 15,000 words A couple weeks into Mateform, Rlain and Renarin struggle with the conflict between Rlain's desire for touch and Renarin's aversion to it. Research - Rated Mature, 2000 words Raboniel and Navani discover the Rhythm of War, which leads to an entirely different avenue of research. Sexy Sociology - Rated Mature, 9200 words Set in a future Roshar AU, Rlain is an exchange student in Kharbranth, where Renarin is a classmate in Dr. Sja Anat's Sociology class. Pegged for Destruction - Rated Explicit, 2200 words Lezian the Pursuer is on the hunt for his latest target. Leshwi has taken an interest in the same target and will not allow Lezian to complete his horrible goal.

I Am Vyre If only Moash had known himself better, had accepted his pain, it wouldn't have come to this... Set between OB and RoW 3000 words Rated teen Heed the tags for content warnings!

It was a dark day in Roshar, one could argue that it was the darkest in all history. The thick clouds blocked the sun like a thousand black sheets on a lamp and yet the land was visible. This land was familiar to Rignarelat. He knew this land so well; he fought in it countless battles, tastes his blood and the blood of his foes. He remembers the dry smell of this lands with its stony texture and the endless horizon of plateaus. On this day, the air was so still, like it is anticipating something to happen. Behind Rignarelat stood an endless horde of the parshendi with no end in sight. He has gathered all of the parshendi in Roshar for this most critical moment. He knew what must be done and it was just the beginning. Red lights glittered the parshendi horde, thousands upon thousands of fused. They came for vengeance. They came so they can end this once and for all and finally rest. The heavenly ones covered the sky, the scene was majestic. There were so many of them that one could take days to count. Rignarelat stood on a high and large plateau looking at the city of Narak with one figure alone in sight. Kaladin stormblessed. Rignarelat knew Kaladin so well, he knew his title and his ambitions and most importantly, he knew that Kaladin was here to stop him, even if it meant his death. “Why are you here boy” Rignarelat said. “Shouldn’t you be weeping somewhere after the death of your father? Do you think you or your family can escape?”. “My father was a great man and he died a hero. He saved countless lives during his career and he is my pride”. Kaladin said. “Today I will seek justice and I will end your advance here” “Do you think the rest of your family is safe?” Rignarelat said. Then he did some talking and nodding to one of his officers and then a figure came dragging a woman with a small child and stood in front of Rignarelat. “Do you know these two boy?” “Mother, Oroden, Noooooooooooo” Kaladin said. “Today you shall know pain like no other” Rignarelat said. Then he took his shardblade and with one blow he stabbed Hesina while she was carrying and hugging Oroden. The blade went threw both of them in one strike and they both fell silent. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” Kaladin screamed and knelt on the ground hopeless. **** “Hold yourself Kaladin please” Syl said. “Please focus, they are approaching, do not let it end here like this”. “I cannot start to fathom how you feel right now, but all of Roshar depend on you holding this plateau”. “Kaladin remember your oaths, remember WHY YOU FIGHT”. “No, I remember a new oath now” Kaladin said. “An oath that is the crown of all oaths”. Kaladin stood up high “This is my final oath Syl”. “I AM THE SHIELD THAT PROTECTS, THE SPEAR THAT DEFENDS. I WILL PROTECT EVEN THOSE WHOM DO NOT DESERVE PROTECTOIN.”. Then Kaladin heard a voice he never heard before. “THESE WORDS ARE ACCEPTED” *** Rignarelat saw something he never saw before. Kaladin was a glowing sphere so bright that it enlightened all the shattered plains. It was as if the sun was out and clear, no it has more brightness than the sun in the harshest of days. Just looking at Kaladin made his eye hurt. All his army were covering their eyes from this condensed sphere of light.

Here it is. My Stormlight FanFic: Obligations. The plot revolves around a single event: A Shardbearer being killed accidentally, with the killer not knowing of the blade's existence. Disclaimers: It's not finished (currently I estimate it is 3/4 done) It's pretty lengthy (53 pages on google docs, 21,000 words at the moment) I fully do not expect anyone to read the whole thing- or even to read it at all - but if you have lots and lots of free time then by all means do. I would like any response: good things, typos, criticism- anything that helps it be better. Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1kHwb8RHV6NjoOQPptux-InxoVpnjn2ouYOUu_MHu1Ss/edit?usp=sharing Character overview for anyone interested: (Spoilered for the sake of the length of the post) Additional Notes:

Hi all! I'm back at it again with a stormlight fanfic. This one isn't depressing, I promise! It's an idea I've had in my head for a while and really wanted to get down. Spoiler warning: This fic spoils some elements of Rhythm of War. It doesn't actually spoil Rhythm of War but it uses information we learn in RoW in it. Let me know what you think! Enjoy! Dustbringer Shout out to @Greywatch for betaing!

So first, I don't know if anyone around here read the Underland Chronicles by Suzanne Collins. It's kind of one of my favorite book series, and to tell you the truth, I probably like it more than the Hunger Games, because even though it might not be better written, I dislike some elements in THG, which are thankfully absent from TUC. If you haven't read the series I'd say it's pointless to read on - not only my writing is not that good, not only even it'll spoil you the book: the point of this fanfic will make sense only if you read the whole UC series, so you'll understand nothing. BTW, before I write it you should know it's not anything pre-written. Just thought of the idea and wrote. I probably won't be true enough to the characters, and for that I am sorry. Now, without farther ado, here's the story: Well, that's the whole story. I'm not the best writer, and it's probably one of the worse things you've ever seen, but here it is. What do you think? Don't hesitate to criticize it. I'm well aware it's not very good.

Welcome back! The third Chapter has been released, hope you enjoy it! Also, leave your theories down if you want, I'm curious what people think is going to happen. (Follow me if you want chapter release updates and if you like this, Check out my Sources of the Universe series. That one is much longer.) Ch1 Ch2 Ch3

Yes! I have made my first fanfic! Welcome to the first Chapter of Daniel and Marisa. Tell me what you think of it and follow me if you want to know any updates on its progress (I will be probably releasing these far slower than my Sources of the Universe chapters.) Link to main thread:

I thought I had taught myself better. I honestly believed that I was done writing dumb wishful fantasies about my favorite characters. Harry Potter killing Voldemort in the most gruesome way my seven-year-old mind could concoct? Those days are behind me. An extended backstory for Breath of the Wild? Begone, thought. One would think that by now I would know better than to write something about the Knights Radiant, Mistborns, Wax n' Wayne duo, ReForgers, Elantrians, and the like teaming up on Odium to defeat him. One would think. And yet, here I am, unable to help myself. So this is probably going to take several posts to make, but that's fine. I've convinced myself that posting irregularly would help ease my conscience. If y'all think this is all just really childish and stupid, then that's fine by me. Heck, I think this is all just really childish and stupid. But I'm doing it anyway. Here it is: “So let me get this straight.” Waxillium said. “This is the Well of Ascension?” It was a little underwhelming. “Well,” he could understand. What he was looking at was probably the most well-like thing he had seen for awhile. “Ascension?” Not so much. “I can understand your confusion.” The man who called himself the Survivor said. Less a man, that was, and more a spirit. He certainly did match the descriptions given in Lestibournes’s texts, however. “Ruin’s power was moved from here, and therefore seems a little lackluster. However, it still works as a Perpendicularity to the Cognitive realm; for up to two people, I believe.” Wayne nudged Wax in the shoulder. “What’s your imaginary friend saying?” Wax turned to the Survivor. “I’m afraid my friend has no direct means of contacting you. What should I tell him…?” “Tell him that you two must take this to the cognitive realm, head to Roshar, and defeat Odium.” Waxillium frowned. “That seems very… specific.” “It is a specific battle that you are fighting now, Waxillium Ladrian.” The Survivor said. “I’m afraid that if Odium retrieves any more Shards that he may become unstoppable.” “I still don’t understand what’s happening.” Wax replied. “There is only so much I can describe.” The Survivor said. “Just head to Roshar. It might already be too late.” Waxillium nodded. “Alright, then.” “Um, excuse me?” Wayne nudged Wax again. “You can’t just make decisions for me, Wax.” “I thought you said you didn’t like making decisions.” “Well, I don’t, but you can’t make my decisions without my knowing about what you’re even deciding me to do!” Wayne pled. “Besides, I need to know what hat to take. Lucky hat or fedora?” “Lucky hat, most definitely.” The Survivor said. Wax frowned. “What…?” “Hats are very helpful. Especially lucky ones.” Wax turned to Wayne. “Well, according the the rusting Survivor himself, you should take your lucky hat.” “Lucky hat it is!” Wayne plopped on the headwear. “When’re we going?” Suddenly, from the caves that Waxillium had entered to get here, a man barreled towards them. “I found it! I found it, I found it, I found it!” “What the—” Wax stuttered. The man shoved Waxillium out of the way as he ran. “Move, fools! Allomancer Jak has come to claim his Birthright!” “Excuse me?” The man shoved Wayne out of the way, as well, who immediately scowled and grabbed for him, stumbling towards the Well as he missed. The man leaped into the Well, thrusting his arms upwards like some kind of priest. The Survivor scowled. “Get that man out of there before the Perpendicularity—” The Well burst alight, and the man fell over into the gaseous pool. Wayne was not over his mistreatment just yet, however, and leapt into the pool of light after him. “Wayne, wait!” Wax yelled, but was too late. The light of the pool began to fade, and with it the hopes of a successful mission. Wax found himself staring into the Well, empty despite the two personages that had been inside it just moments before. “What in the name of the Lord Ruler just happened?” The Survivor demanded. Wax shuddered on the ledge of the Well. “I think… I think that you might be stuck with the wrong allomancer for awhile.” His best friend, Wayne, had just sealed the fate of the Cosmere, by taking Allomancer Jak with him to defeat a god.