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Found 25 results

  1. 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
  2. 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
  3. 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.
  4. 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.
  5. 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)
  6. fanfic

    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.
  7. 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.
  8. 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!
  9. 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.
  10. 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: Character overview for anyone interested: (Spoilered for the sake of the length of the post) Additional Notes:
  11. 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!
  12. 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.
  13. 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
  14. 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:
  15. 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.
  16. As stated in the tags, this fic is inspired by the WoB explaining Fortuity's weakness—public rejection by a woman to whom he is attracted—and hinting it stems from a time that happened in the worst possible way. I found that to be an intriguing deepest-darkest-fear, and this idea began percolating. Will probably be a three-parter, but I'm not making any promises. Part One
  17. It couldn’t be… Could it? The mist felt wet and cool on my face, leaving small droplets of condensation on my cheeks and nose. The sky was an endless abyss of twisting and churning mist, something familiar, but unwitnessed. Oh how I had wished for this moment, every hour of reading. Was this a dream, or was I really on Scadrial, a world of Brandon Sanderson’s imagination? Hesitantly, I took a step forward, and my foot dragged through a coating of black ash on the ground. So this was the era of the Lord Ruler, the Final Empire. It certainly felt real… I looked around, but it was night, and the mists were out. I could only see a few feet in each direction. Suddenly, I felt very afraid, standing in the twisting sea of darkness. Who knew where I was? It could be miles to the closest city, and all I had were the clothes on my back and… What was that in my pocket? A few coins, boxings by the look of them, a small vial of metal flakes in a solution, and a note. Khyrindor, it read, we need your help. Meet us at Pewter gate, Luthadel for further instructions. Oh, by the way, you are now a Mistborn. It was signed “The Seventeenth Shard.” Someone had done this to me, and I needed to know why. What did they want with me? Should it matter? I had been wishing for this for years! But, nonetheless, I was afraid, alone in the darkness and the mist. The Seventeenth Shard…they said I was a Mistborn, and they apparently needed my help. They were obviously the ones who did this to me, so finding them would be the first step. Whether or not I decided to help them, or ask them to bring me home, I would need to start at Pewter gate. I looked down at the small vial of metal flakes. Mistborn… I raised the vial to my lips. Let’s do this. It tasted worse than I’d imagined. I urgently sought out my tin reserves, the metal that would enhance my senses and pierce the mists. As I burned it, a warmth flooded my chest, and suddenly I could very acutely feel everything around me. from the cold air to the very grains in my t-shirt. The mists seemed… less some- how. They were still there, but I could see through them. There were stars in the sky, a stretch of bright red ones that I doubted most people ever saw. The mists made many people uncomfortable, as I knew from reading Mistborn, so no one ever came out at night, except allomancers, people who can ingest metals like tin and burn them for power. If I burned my tin harder, Flaring, as it was called in the books, I could just make something out… A light, in the distance. Wavering torch light, reflecting brightly against the mists around it. I lessened my tin, as the cold was starting to bother me, and started toward the light, hoping I would be lucky enough to find an outskirt town and not a koloss camp. Untrained in allomancy as I was, I doubted I could fight them on my own with just a few coins. I started burning Pewter as well, as it helped with the cold, making me more resistant to pain. Also, it would do well if there were any surprises, as it enhanced my strength and balance, in addition to the resistance to pain. Pewter and tin went nicely together. Suddenly, I realized what I was wearing, and gave myself a mental kick. A bright blue hoodie and jeans. I smeared some ash on them so I would blend into the night. If there was trouble ahead, I would want to fit in, rather than wear a big sign saying “Hey, look at me!” As I was getting close to the light, I again kicked myself. I should have been burning copper! Copper would hide my allomancy from seekers, people who could burn bronze to sense nearby allomancy. I felt a the copper cloud go up around me. If there were Inquisitors around though, the Hemalurgic minions of the Lord Ruler, they would be able to pierce the copper cloud. This could get dangerous. Why did the Seventeenth Shard involve me in this? Only one way to find out. I stepped into the light. To Be Continued So, tell me what you think? Just wrote this in the last little while. Pretty rough draft. Thanks for reading.
  18. This is only sort of Sanderson fan fiction but I used Syl so it's going here. I basically went with the idea of Syl protecting Kal in the highstorm, and ran with it to Syl protecting people from their inner demons. And here's when I post something super personal and hope I'm not making a mistake with it all. Gotta be vulnerable sometimes :l @Pinnacle-Ferring I mentioned a draft one of this to you a while ago and you wanted to see it.
  19. This is a little story inspired by this discussion over here. I found it and couldn't resist playing with it for a while. All credit where its due, yes, I got the idea from that thread and the discussions there. Hope you enjoy it! I have no fixed plans for this, but perhaps an anthology of the worldhoppers swapping stories and stuff. Also, this story won't be purely mine, for I encourage you guys to freely throw in ideas and even write sections for yourself! Let's have fun imagining what those worldhoppers get up to between books. Story premise: Worldhoppers have to congregate somewhere, don't they? WoB says that the place where they congregate isn't in the Physical Realm, so consensus is that its in the Cognitive Realm. Imagine, a restaurant at the end of the cosmere, possibly owned by a Shard, where all the worldhoppers gather to unwind, relax, network and basically have a drink.
  20. Just put up the first chapter of a fic I've been working on for quite a while. It's called Periapsis, and it can be found on my Tumblr or on my Ao3. It's a Stormlight Archive AU fic set in a military space opera setting -- think Honor Harrington or Mass Effect -- and it centers on Shallan and Jasnah's (eventually romantic) relationship. I'm pretty proud of what I've got in store here, so if that sounds like your cup of tea, I invite you to give it a shot.
  21. I've been working on a short story describing how Vin got her earring. I've posted it over at AO3 and I'd love your feedback.
  22. I've been working on an Alloy of Law era Homestuck crossover for over a year now, and I recently posted the first chapter of the prelude story on Ao3. It's not necessary that you've read Homestuck, but it's certainly more amusing if you have. This AU is also going to be my exploration of jazz in Scadrial, and basically the evolution of music and culture in general, as I referenced in the Heaven, Hell and the Steel Ministry thread. I have done so much research trying to reasonably match various developments in Scadrial to its real-world counterparts (as Scadrial is Brandon's Earth-analogue) and I'e gotten Brandon to confirm a number of my guess as being basically correct. This is going to be an extremely slow updating fic, but I'm expecting a serious amount of worldbuilding to go with it that is entirely not-Homestuck. Most of this info will be crossposted to my own tumblr and my fic's tumblr, mistbornstuck.
  23. First of all, Feather, I'm very disappointed you didn't inform me of the fourth chapter of ASMoB To start off, here's a list of Feather's current fanfics(all SA) -A small Renarin POV fic. -"Beneath the Bells of Kharbranth" - (Beware, it's not a happy story...) Synopsis: Instead of joining the army, Kaladin goes to Kharbranth to train as a surgeon. After years of hard work, his talent for healing earns him a promotion. But there are secrets in Kharbranth, the likes of which he could never have imagined. -"A Training Session" - (This is a nicer one, written for Tumblr's Cosmere Secret Santa exchange last year.) Synopsis: After the events of The Way of Kings, Kaladin is working to train the members of Bridge 4 when Adolin Kholin unexpectedly drops by. -"A Strange Mix of Both" - (This is Feather's Shallarin fic. It's multiple parts so you'll have to click the "Read More" links at the bottom of each to open each full post.)
  24. Summary: An ongoing compilation of small fics featuring Shallan Davar and Renarin Kholin and a blossoming relationship between them. Takes place post-WoK. This story can be found in multiple places: Archive Of Our Own, Fanfiction.Net, and Tumblr. Click the names to read on the platform of your choice! (I would recommend reading on tumblr, because there you can see the art that Botanica Xu was kind enough to draw for me. Seriously like the best thing ever. She's awesome. Her cosmere art is incredible.)
  25. This is my first attempt at writing anything of this type. Any advice on diction, grammar, pacing, etc. is appreciated. The document is attached in a rich text format, so should be readable for all. Thanks, Cartith Ch. 1.rtf