tag directory:

#snippet: short previews of my writing

#update: if i mention the progress of a fic, such as how far i am or when it might update

#chatter: me talking at length abt anything that doesn’t fall under #update, like answering asks

#posted: finished fics

#plot bunny: concepts for fics

#original: non fandom writing

i also tag applicable fandoms and ships!

a lighter hardshine romp im working on in between all the character studies

The demon staggers from Moonshine’s mighty blow, spores exploding in a cloud from the wound. It tries to pick itself back up, to raise its weapon, but it collapses to one knee instead. The tip of its blade drives into the dirt as the demon leans its weight on it. Its breaths come quick and shallow.

Meanwhile, Moonshine strides calmly forward, sheathing her sword in one smooth motion. With spindly fingers, she lifts the demon’s chin, tilting its head up toward her. Then she leans down and gives it a deep, sensual kiss.

The demon recoils, eyes shooting wide open. But with a knee on the ground and Moonshine’s free hand squeezing the back of its neck, it has no leverage to break out of her hold. While the demon tries fruitlessly to beat a fist into Moonshine’s back, Moonshine opens her mouth against the demon’s.

Her throat works. And she spits spores into its mouth.

Moonshine’s lips remain sealed over the demon’s, forcing it to swallow. She meets its frantic gaze with a cool indifference. The demon struggles, its flaming body twisting against Moonshine’s, but her fungal bulk holds strong; she doesn’t even seem pained. Eventually, the demon’s movements slow to weak jerks and twitches. The flames flicker out, revealing soot-grey skin. And at last, its eyes go dull as it slumps in Moonshine’s arms.

Finally, Moonshine pulls back, allowing the demon’s corpse to drop lifelessly to the ground. She remains there for a moment, panting, before she turns her head just enough to shoot Hardwon a grin.

“Alright there, Hardwon?” she asks brightly. Her whole body relaxes, coming down from the adrenaline high of battle. But she doesn’t dispel her fungal form. Her eyes meeting his own are still solid black, almost insectoid, as they crinkle at the corners with her warm smile.

Hardwon feels hot all over. Before he can think about it, he closes the distance between them in a few quick steps, and kisses her. He tastes ash and spores on her lips.

Pressed up close against Moonshine, Hardwon realizes for the first time that in her fungal form—after all the power Moonshine’s gained over their adventure—Moonshine is actually a tiny bit taller than him. It sends a novel thrill through him to tilt his head up to kiss someone. Nannerflies are fluttering in his stomach as Moonshine laughs briefly in surprise, before she kisses him back. He feels her still smiling against his mouth.

They pull back after a few moments to breathe. They stay standing where they are, foreheads leaning against each other. Downy fungus brushes his skin.

“Well,” says Moonshine, clearly pleased. “Not that I’m gonna complain about a nice smooch in the woods, but what brought this on?”

Warmth rises to Hardwon’s face.

“You killing that thing was really hot,” Hardwon admits.

Moonshine’s smile widens.

a tiny bit more of the reborn rewrite. i will have a Lot to say abt my choices in this section but for now…

Melora turns her cool gaze to Hardwon. “There’s no shame in death,” she says. “Death is a natural part of life.”

Beside him, Hardwon sees Moonshine start to step forward, opening her mouth. But she’s already done so much for him—he speaks before she can.

“Yeah, I’m down with death,” Hardwon says, truthfully. “I’ve been hanging out with Moonshine for a long time.” As he says it, he glances sideways at Moonshine. She doesn’t seem assured by his words. Life and death are two sides of the same coin, is supposed to be the whole M.O. of Moonshine Cybin, friend of fungus, ambassador of decay.

And yet, for him, she’s wrenched open a rift between the realms themselves to demand his life back from her goddess.

“But I’ve got some shit to finish up first,” Hardwon says, turning back to Melora. “People who need me.”

more of the reborn rewrite for class

The rest of the world falls away. Moonshine’s eyes are glowing a shade of brilliant green that reminds Hardwon of the valleys outside Irondeep—the shining expanse of grasses and trees stretching off as far as the eye could see, so unlike the enclosed stone halls and caverns of the city. Moonshine’s long fingers swirl with arcane energy, her unruly curls of hair floating around her head as if underwater, crackling with power.

She’s also stark fucking naked.

Moonshine crawls in the coffin beside him and pulls the lid back into place. Hardwon’s suddenly glad for his vampirism—if his heart could beat, it would be hammering right out of his chest. His skin feels electric, every nerve alight. Moonshine’s knees bump against his own; her hair tickles his shoulder; their noses nearly brush. In the soft glow of Moonshine’s magic, he can count every freckle scattered across her cheeks, trailing down her shoulders. Beyond, if he dared look.

“You ready?” Moonshine asks brightly, like all of this is nothing. Like her bare skin pressed up against his armor is nothing. Like this primordial druidic ritual she’s performing for his sake, the magic so powerful and wild that it’s bursting from her very pores, is nothing.

“I—I didn’t think—” Hardwon stammers, flustered. He feels Moonshine’s breath puff hot against his cheek. Despite himself, he can’t push away the scent of Moonshine’s blood, the sound of it pumping through her arteries.

His eyes drop to the smooth expanse of her throat before he can help it. Forcefully, he tries to wrench his gaze back up, but he gets stuck at her full, chapped lips. At the gap between her front teeth, exposed as she smiles at him. Their faces are so very close.

“This is my first time,” Hardwon blurts out.

working on a fic for my adaptations class final

Hardwon is used to small spaces. Hells, he’d probably call himself the foremost expert in small spaces. Life beneath the mountain was a life of ducking his head and hunching his shoulders to fit through fine dwarven doorways; of pulling in his gangly limbs, trying to navigate through the mines’ crowded, cramped tunnels; of tugging at clothes always riding up at the waist and ankle; of curling up into a ball in his bunk in the dwarphanage, to keep his feet from dangling over the edge. (And to hide his tear-streaked, smooth-chinned face, to feel arms around his body, if only his own—no, walls up—)

In any case. Hardwon is used to feeling the walls close, the darkness closer.

But lying in a coffin is a new low.

Being stuck alone in a wooden box would be bad enough on its own. But the others had shoved his coffin in the Bag of Holding for ease of transport through dangerous sunlight. In the Bag, Hardwon is surrounded by an endless, engulfing void. The pure silence and darkness are a heavy shroud, suffocating.

He feels dead. Beyond the fangs and the bloodlust and the lungs within him that don’t expand, the heart that doesn’t beat. Beyond even the empty, still coffin.

teeny tiny :)

“Easy for you to say,” Hardwon scoffs. “You’re you, and I’m just—”

“What?” says Moonshine, lifting her chin in challenge.

You’re amazing, Hardwon can’t help but think. She’s her namesake, the moon in the sky, setting the whole world aglow even in the coldest dead of night. Bending the tides to her will and holding the earth steady in her hands. She’s the air he breathes, the blood in his veins. She’s everything, life and love incarnate, and he’s…nothing.

“I just mean—you’ve done it, like, a million times,” Hardwon stammers. He looks into Moonshine’s warm eyes, and then quickly away.

im probably not going to use this anymore in the fic i initially wrote this for but i still liked it so. teeny little domestic hardshine

Quiet evenings are a rarity at the Crick, and yet here Hardwon finds himself despite the odds, curled up in bed in Moonshine’s stump. He meant to take a quick trance while she cooked up a crawfish boil—but now that he’s lying here as she putters about the kitchen, he can’t take his eyes off her long enough to let them fall shut.

Moonshine approaches cooking the same way she approaches anything else: with deep love and almost frightening intensity. She expertly balances various bubbling pots, tossing in spices with abandon. Her ostensibly tied-back hair escapes its restraints enough to swish around with every turn of her heel, a sprinkling of spores settling down onto the food—seasoning, Moonshine would call it.

Earlier, Hardwon had offered to help, feeling suddenly awkward about standing aside to let her do all the work, but she firmly waved him off. Moonshine knows exactly what she’s doing; he’d only get in the way.

the google doc title for this fic is just “yippee vampwon” btw

Her Hardwon would have lurched back, stammering, face darkening with a pretty blush as he averted his eyes. His nervousness about—anything related to sex, really—wasn’t exactly subtle. Then again, her Hardwon wouldn’t be a pale, cold corpse, tongue laving at her neck to draw out every last drop of blood from her veins.

But he was holding her so gently. His hand not clutching her neck had drifted down to entwine with her own.

Moonshine was beginning to feel lightheaded, and yet Hardwon showed no sign of slowing down. How long had it been? It felt like both seconds and centuries. At some point, Moonshine’s eyes had fallen shut. She heard only Hardwon’s soft, desperate sounds: half-whimpers, almost moans. Her own lips tingled, cold.

“H-Hardwon,” Moonshine managed. Her voice was barely above a murmur. “Stop.”

Hardwon continued to suck greedily at her throat. His body pushed harder against hers. Normally the heft and weight of him, surrounding her and holding her down, might have been comforting—but now her survival instinct was lighting up in panic.

Hardwon Surefoot would never harm her on purpose. But how much of Hardwon Surefoot did the vampire she’d bared her throat to still have left?

“Hardwon,” Moonshine said again, louder. Even as she spoke, her mind raced, trying to figure out how to force him off her, if she must. “That’s enough.”

She was about to cast a last-ditch Thunderwave when finally, Hardwon tore himself away from her throat and sat back.

Blood stained Hardwon’s pale lips. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

vampire hardwon and moonshine’s complicated feelings abt it and constantly taking on too much responsibility and guilt compel me… <3

Hardwon’s fangs pierced her throat.

Moonshine jerked as an icy sensation flooded outward from her neck. At her movement, Hardwon sank down fully into her lap. The solid bulk of him—even withered by undeath—pinned her in place as he tucked his face deeper into the curve of her neck.

With their bodies pressed tight together, Moonshine felt clearly the way only her chest rose and fell. The way only her heart beat double-time.

Hardwon cradled the back of her neck gently, lovingly. His fingers stroked the fine hairs at its base as his mouth worked, pulling blood to her skin in a tender bruise. Like sucking a hickey, almost, in some other life. In some other life, one where she hadn’t failed, they would be on the road, maybe. In a forest, surrounded by warmth, by the natural cycles of life and death. Not choking on stagnancy and rot.

After the initial bite, Moonshine barely felt any pain. In fact, a numb, floaty sensation was spreading through her limbs. She was no longer aware of the surroundings. She knew only Hardwon: his calloused hands, his beard tickling her shoulder. His lips on her skin.

im cooking w the hardshine first time fic…

Privately, Hardwon doubts that there’ll ever be a next time. Oh, absolutely he’ll fall pathetically for someone or other—but this whole debacle has only shown that Hardwon is going to be a virgin until he’s dead in the ground. And probably in the next plane, too, at this rate.

“Sure,” Hardwon says, and clears his throat around the sudden, ridiculous lump forming. He turns his face further away from Moonshine.

It’s not even a big deal. So what if he’s a virgin? He killed a fucking god. Or, well, he helped. In any case, no one could possibly say he hasn’t proven himself. The name Hardwon Surefoot finally means something—the accolades that follow won’t be self-invented, dreamed up alongside visions of an open sky far from any dwarphanage.

So it doesn’t matter that he was left out, while the others his age taught each other how their bodies could intertwine. It doesn’t matter that it’s far too late now to learn without making an utter fool of himself. It doesn’t matter that he’s forever going to be that stupid little kid yearning to be someone outside himself, someone whole. He’s still not a dwarf, not a human, not an elf. Still not even a full person.

The silence stretches on as Hardwon tries to blink away the burning behind his eyes.

the (qpp) hardshine brainrot is hitting me like crazy…… hardwon being a virgin is something that can actually be so personal

When Shivel breaks the kiss to take a few breaths, Hardwon curls his fingers into the tree roots beneath them. The rough bark digs into his palms.

“Are you okay?” Shivel asks.

Hardwon laughs nervously. “Of course I’m okay,” he says, voice rising in volume despite himself. He stares past her, up at the night sky. The moon glowing through the clouds is a great big eye, returning his gaze with cold judgment. “I’m great. This is great. You’re great.”

And she is, truly. She’s really sweet, to ask the question at all. She’s braver than he is, no doubt, to invite him away from the party in the first place. She has a really luscious beard. She could have had her pick of anyone, and she went for Hardwon.

Just the idea of anyone choosing him—wanting him—would have made Hardwon giddy, even an hour ago. Now, it makes the pit in his stomach grow deeper. Shivel is going to regret asking him out. It’s a matter of when he fucks up, not if. In fact, he knows exactly when that when will be: the moment she asks him to put his hands on her, and he has absolutely zero clue how to make her feel good. Even the thought of the disbelief in her eyes has something in Hardwon shriveling with mortification.

Can’t think about that. Walls up.