Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers.
Ook thanks for sending me this Plum <3
Our Room, my Jacegan college AU. I'm putting the whole series here but if I had to choose one of the fics in it it'd be the third one. I got so so attached to this version of Jace and Cregan (I was projecting on Jace HARD), and by the end of the series they became like my ideal relationship (which is very loving but also super kinky lol).
Strong Slut, cheating again with a series which is my Jacewin (+Jaceluke) AU (or just "incest AU" for short lol). It's mostly dadson smut, in this case the first fic is the real star and the other two are more so add ons lol. It might be the horniest thing I've ever written, it's just so much shameless porn, but I also got super emotional (like sobbing) writing the final scene (of the first fic).
Unlikely, my current DunkEgg fic!! I honestly love it so much and it might be the most interesting thing I've written and the closest to a proper story with plot, and I feel proud of it being the first DunkEgg modern AU tbh. It also made me fully stop giving a fuck about writing smut with super young characters lmao.
Pure and Twisted, my Hookfire fic which I still want to write a sequel to. Super tasty ship for those unfamiliar, with pseudo step-dad vibes and a ton of angst.
Three Halves. Ok I really hate that most of these are series rather than individual fics but this one in particular is really just a 3-chapter fic posted in two parts! lol. It's a fix-it for my favorite character from Elite, my baby Polo Benavent and his canon polycule PoloCayeVal. I'm sure if I read it again I'll see that the writing is shit, but it just gave me so much peace of mind to write a happy ending for them.
ouat AU where Neal gets temporarily turned back into 14yo Baelfire with pre-Neverland memories and immediately hugs Hook when he sees him bc he's the only one in Storybrook he recognizes and he doesn’t remember the betrayal. cue Hook milking his beloved-stepfather privileges for all its worth
Shipping m/m isn’t a fetish. It’s a genuine love for a ship. Why aren’t people talking about het ships being fetishized? Is it just homophobia or something else?
for anyone who doesn't know, I made a post about Baelfire's drawings on his cave and how Killian didn't react enough to it, so I decided to fix that a bit!
beta'd by the wonderfully helpful @jonesfandomfanatic !
rated G | 1360 words
also on ao3
The path through the dense, hot forest was one Killian was acquainted with. A right turn at the twisted tree, a sharp left turn at the rock lion, straight ahead through the berry patch. If you run into the rock that looks like the crescent moon you’ve gone too far.
Killian had followed him through the woods many times after their separation, no, Baelfire’s abandonment. Had wanted to make sure Bae was safe, that he was alive. He didn’t approach, memorized the way to Bae's little cave and kept it in his heart but never broached the gaping abyss he’d created between them. First out of bitterness, then out of shame.
Baelfire wouldn’t welcome his presence anyway.
He found out about Bae’s departure from Neverland from Pan himself; the demon’s anger leaving a bitter taste. And, after Baelfire was gone, Killian would make his way to his hovel many times, standing in front of the large rock and the dangling vine for hours at times. He had only entered once, had found the torch on the wall and lit it with an easy flick of the flint in his hook.
But it had been too much. Killian had seen the spartan home the boy had created for himself, had seen his small bed and, at the sight of the marks near it, counting his days on the island, left. He'd not made the trek again, as he couldn't bare setting foot in that cave again.
---
Now Baelfire was gone. Dead. And Killian’s back on the blasted island he had wanted to escape from more than anything.
There were differences now, of course. Baelfire had been Neal. He'd grown into a man, a man that had a darker path than Killian had hoped for - than Milah had hoped for. And Killian had joined the heroes, hopefully on his way to becoming one, or at least a version of himself that Liam would be proud of. That Baelfire would be proud of.
So, despite his wishes, Killian was going into Baelfire’s home for the first time in a century.
He still remembered the path - right turn at the twisted tree, sharp left turn at the rock lion and straight ahead through the berry patch. He didn’t see the crescent moon rock.
There was another difference. He wasn’t alone this time. He couldn’t turn around and go back to camp because there were people who needed to go into the cave, find out how Bae escaped Neverland so they could too. He had to go in.
Despite his smirk and his uncontrollable need to share personal space with the Savior, Killian was pleased to not walk into the cave first. Was glad to hide behind the need for light, behind explanations, and to focus on Emma instead of the scratched on drawings on the wall.
“He got it from his mother,” he found himself saying.
Explanations.
He couldn’t focus on the way Milah’s hair would fall unacknowledged on her face whenever she was focused on a drawing, or the way Baelfire’s did the same. Couldn’t focus on the many times he’d had to clean charcoal from Milah’s face when she fell asleep over a piece of parchment, or the way he had teared up when the same had happened to Bae. Couldn’t focus on the shame and regret he felt after when their drawings had turned to ash in a fit of tearful rage. Couldn’t focus on the fact that he had fooled himself into thinking he’d purged them from his heart by burning their art. Couldn’t focus on the several more drawings he had locked away in his safe to keep himself from burning them too.
“Home.”
As he looks up at the moving stars from Emma’s less than static grip, Killian forces himself to remain in the present. Urges himself not to remember the enthusiastic way Baelfire had stood next to him by the wheel while he told him about the constellations in Neverland’s permanent night sky. Tries not to remember Baelfire’s beaming smile, so much like Milah’s, when Killian praised him for naming all the constellations correctly.
“Which means the only person who can read it is dead.” He’s almost grateful for Emma’s quick exit with the way he is barely able to control his tears.
Baelfire, Neal, whatever he wanted to be called, is dead. Milah’s child is gone.
Still, Killian is painfully aware of the Queen’s presence in the room. Her annoyed energy unable to be ignored, giving him no space to mourn, giving him no space to remember the boy that had thrived on his ship, that had become more than just a means for his revenge.
There are memories on the wall, the port and starboard under a perfect replica of the Jolly Roger’s bow. A lesson in navigation comes unbidden to his brain, the feel of Baelfire’s hair in his hand and the proud smile on the boy’s face. He wanted to stay in that memory forever.
“Seems like you left an impression, Hook.” Regina’s lips curved in a cruel smirk as she tapped the wall he had been looking at, her pointer finger on the depiction of his hook in what he assumed was his area of the wall. He didn’t bite the bait.
Killian remembered instead how the boy had been mystified by it, the way it worked, how he used it - he had been too scared to tell him the truth of how he got it, unwilling to shatter the perfect life they were living. But shatter it still did.
He sees the Darlings over a drawing of what Bae told him was the Great Ben - he still wasn’t sure what was Great about this Ben but he still remembered the loud giggles the boy let out when he got the name wrong. Killian knew of the parents who had accepted a boy into their family as if he was their own. Bae talked fondly of them and the boys, Michael and John, and affectionately of Wendy, talked about how he had felt part of a family before the Shadow tore them apart. His heart had ached for the boy who had wanted a family and his shame worsened when he realized he had done the same as Pan’s evil entity.
Killian’s almost thankful for Emma’s reentrance, her shoulders set and determined frown on her face. She looks magnificent like that and he welcomes the distraction. But then she gets that look again, the same one he saw when they were climbing the beanstalk and he remembers seeing it on Baelfire, knows that he sees it in the mirror too.
“I too know what it feels like to lose hope,” Killian starts to say to Emma.
And he reads it plainly in her face that she doesn’t want to believe him, that she is looking for a reason to distrust him. That she’s not ready to open up about this. He wants to turn away, leave it at that, leave it up to her but he never knew how to give up.
“I too know what it feels like to lose,” he continues and she lets out a sigh, a deep sigh expelling her anger and frustration, her shoulders slumping down. And then she nods and he gives her a smile, not a smirk, not a grin, just a smile and, while hers might be even smaller than his, it’s still a smile and he considers himself lucky. He tries not to wonder if he’s worthy of that luck.
“We need to go.”
It’s easy to put on his bravado, his cocky smirk for David’s comments, no matter how likely they are, deflect the way Emma already means more than he thought she ever would.
What isn’t easy is saying goodbye to the memory infested walls of the cave, Baelfire’s last mark on the world. It isn’t easy to say goodbye to the memory of the boy who could have been his family, who could have loved him back, who he could have not betrayed.
But he does.
There is another boy who needs to be saved. And this time, he will.
I'm horrible at explaining why I ship a ship (romantically, in this case) but anyway, I'll try because I was thinking on hookfire and now I want to talk about them. I think one of the main reasons I ship them is the past! It's complicated, sad and tragic and generally that's one of my biggest reasons for liking a ship. Because most people doubt that people with a background like that could genuinely fall in love with each other. But I believe that nothing is impossible (with the power of fanfiction). I'm not much of an angst lover, but the sadness they cause me is another reason for me to ship them. There's something beautiful and melancholy about falling in love with someone you've deeply failed. In looking at the person you love every day and remembering that a large part of that person's suffering was caused by you. I have similar feelings with swanfire (I don't know if it's just me, but I can draw parallels). It's just deliciously painful.
I also think their personalities match. They would be silly and funny, and Neal would make Killian laugh freely with ridiculous jokes and he also would get really exasperated every single time (because he might have chosen someone worse than himself). They would compete every moment, for no reason, like two children. They would be a mess and they would be really wonderful while being a fucking mess.
The last reason it's because they're sexy. End of discussion.
