#alias fic

[antialias-ao3]

we will all return to the garden

welcome to [gestures wildly] this

it’s something i’m currently writing something for ao3. it’s experimental for me, I’ve almost no idea what I’m doing despite spending 80% of my time planning the plot.

warning: it is rated mature and may change to explicit in the future. tags are updated, please read them carefully. if you think I missed something please let me know.

crash course summary is thus:

two years post-game reed and nines have settled into working cases together. things are strained: android rights are not remotely clear or settled and Detroit isn’t the unassuming hub of all android production anymore, it’s the volatile host to the android’s capital.

their current case is one dead end after another, literally: they’re called to the scene of the fourth android death in a row, suspicious circumstances but almost no evidence whatsoever: no clear motive, no witnesses, nothing. their luck turns when they run into - run down - a suspect. the apprehension of their suspect does not go according to plan, and the two end up with a great many questions and frustratingly few answers.

it has:

nines being hot and better than everyone, like, all the time, but also him being a lil broken inside in my favourite way

Gavin being an absolute idiot and literally everyone reminding him about it constantly, especially nines

murder. no seriously

mystery, mostly because I can’t remember which plot points I’ve teased and which I’ve hidden love it. omfg.

there’s a lot of background things that have happened that will be referenced or slowly revealed. if you notice an allusion to a scene or event that you haven’t seen directly, I’ve written it, because I’ve written them all. might post em sometime.

like SO much I can’t tell you for spoiler reasons

other things I think are relevant:

this is the most committed I’ve ever been to a fic

I’m going for wide scope game feel and maybe even succeeding a little bit

all your faves will show up at some point bc I can’t resist

I update in companion chapters, which is a minimum of two at a time that are thematically related. they are supposed to be usually different in style BUT it means you get more confusion and frustration per update with only about 24 hours between companion pieces as a helpful screaming break

I actually like it and think you would too

I keep hiding number puzzles and science fiction references in the chapters and love knowing if you’ve found them. some are more cryptic than others idk I hope you’re having fun because I sure am

[prophecyworm]

HELLO!

I just finished reading alias and as awesome a read as that was the ending lowk broke my heart, all in all, it was beautiful!

I was wondering if we're ever going to get a sequel to it hehe<3

hi!!! thank you for reading and enjoying my beloved alias!! :3

tbh, probably not. i’m really content with the way it ended and i don’t really see myself doing much more with that story despite how much i love it and the mc.. but who knows anything is possible!!

[prophecyworm]

So uhm…I just came from your recent chapter 6 with Dante, too embarrassed to say this publicly because I low-key never do this but I love your work girlie and so glad we got that necklace OFF! 🙏🙏 I literally scream every time I get a notification that the fic is updated in my emails or you’ve posted something new. Please keep up the writing and take care of yourself!!🫶 (P.S. I will be scrolling through all your tumblr posts now so you’ll know who I am anyways from the amount of likes you’d get)

wow thank you so much for the kind words :3 really means a lot to me!! yeah i gotta say writing chapter 6 felt really cathartic for a lot of reasons so reader finally getting the necklace off felt like a personal success for me haha and trust i will keep writing.. i got lots of stuff im gonna cook up once alias is finished! xoxo

[antialias-ao3]

chapter 12 - echoes and reflections from we will all return to the garden on a03

Reed’s apartment was a little out of Tina’s way, so she surprised him with her offer of a ride—then was less surprised when Tina turned it into an opportunity to give him her thoughts, at length, on the way he lived. From the state of his apartment to the neighbourhood he lived in, no aspect was safe. She didn’t listen to his protests, didn’t notice the way he grumbled at her lively monologue—Tina lectured him on proper home safety, about keeping his windows locked overnight ‘no matter how sweet the visiting strays are’, even as she tickled the offending visitor’s head between the ears. The turncoat purred at considerable volume, flaunting how much she enjoyed the attention.

In the car they bickered happily, covering everything from Tina’s recent social exploits and station gossip to the news, peppered with sly questions from Tina about Reed’s well-being. He let the ones he noticed slide by without challenge; Tina made him feel human, feel like himself for a while, in that bright-lit, early morning bubble. Her worry didn’t feel threatening. It felt like care.

Until she stopped being gentle.

“So, what were you arguing about with Nines yesterday?

[antialias-ao3]

So I'm working on this fic, right? And because my brain moves at zero or one hundred miles per hour always I'm building the evidence board for the case I'm writing about.

Fic spoilers for chapters 3 onwards, if you care about that sort of thing!

I'm posting on ao3 and then sleeping forever.

[antialias-ao3]

this is a gentle announcement that ch 12 of we will all return to the garden is called echoes and reflections and will be live later today (!!!)

[antialias-ao3]

next chapters are almost done. I’m so close and SO TIRED

[capaldisrighteyebrow]

Sydney x Vaughn. First meeting.

I may not have listed it in my challenge, but someone out there knows Alias was my first television love (and Syd/Vaughn my first true OTP).

The ferocity of her scrawling hand matches the vibrancy of her clown-red hair, the severe black of her turtleneck, and the significant swell of her cheek; this woman oozes intensity, a combination of mystery and focus he’s never encountered.The sandwich he brought sits neglected, exchanged for a fresh pen, and he wants to insist she eat something until his eyes roam over her writing and read about the torture-via-dental-extraction used against her, prompting him to offer the name of a dentist instead and earning him a smile from her eyes since it probably kills her to move her mouth at all. 

He stays through the night, reading over her words half a dozen times before he places just as many calls to pluck the few strings his short tenure at the CIA has garnered him because Sydney Bristow is not the type of agent who will thrive under conservative handling; it has nothing to do with him wanting to see a smile part her lips over one of his juvenile jokes – nothing at all.