Poll: Who thinks Osset're is a Mary Sue? It suddenly occured to me that Osset're reminds of one. Choke. Gasp. Oh the horror! My Beta doesn't think so but he was a reader not too long ago. Biased you know? Think about it! He's got a lot of the characteristics... Vote Now!
Author has written 8 stories for Harry Potter, and StarTrek: The Original Series.
Fitful Here, Jan 28th 2010, at 2:18 in the morning.
I thought I might solve my inspiration/writers block problems by disscussion. Unfortuantely I don't let friends, family, or basically anyone who knows me read my story, I much prefer complete strangers. So I thought I'd chat with all you fanfiction reading strange people if you want. About Saith or any of my other stories.
You can reach me at with yahoo chat, If and I must stress If I am online. I'm not often, as I don't have wireless in the mountains/country where I live. But if you have any comments, suggestions, confusion, or you just want to prod me with a stick I'm here. Occassionally. Mostly at night. You could send me an email but it isn't likely I would get it as I tend to avoid my inbox like the plague. It's overly full and I don't want to deal with it.
Actually to be completely honest this is me begging for complements. I don't like asking for reviews, but I've decided there is no shame in pretending to be a kind soul who only wants to answer readers questions. Completely innocently of course.
Anyhoo. Drop me a line, ring me up, what every it's called with chat.
Jan, 23, 2010
02:50 am Saturday morning
Ok. The NEW fic up is The Briarwood Elf. It's a new idea I haven't seen that I came up with all on my own, it's Snarry, as that is the only thing I write. I love this fic. Mostly because it is Finished!!
I have honestly done nothing for a week but eat, sleep, and write. Oh and watch Star Trek.
Do you know this is the first time I've ever finished something that wasn't for a grade? Writing wise I mean.
Yeah I know! I deserve cake. A pretty birthday cake that is white and has Yellow frosting. And sushi. And Snape there to glower at the cheerfulness of it.
If you know me, you'll know I've been missing for a while. I'll let you know what I've been doing but that will take a few months. Maybe more. Ick. Finishing things are a bitch. Anyway I want to finish it so I can show you all pictures. It's taking a lot longer than I thought. I'll give you a hint. It has something to do with Snape.
Shh. If you figure it out tell me secretly.
The Briarwood Elf by Fitful(Fitful is me if you haven't figured that out yet.)
Short Summary: A mad dark wizard's curse hits Harry. Harry becomes very small in Snape's eyes. Snape is alive when he shouldn't be and just a little pissy. SLASH. HP/SS. slavery, not D/s but sorta teasing that way. HPB and DH compliant.
And this fic is complete. I will update daily until it's completely posted. Enjoy.
And these are the notes that I wrote when inspiration hit:
Harry Potter is a house elf. Literally. After the war Auror Potter is caught in a duel with a mad old dark wizard. His partner is killed/sickthatday/or gone home already. Harry gets hit by an unknown spell that turns him into a house elf. Short and Dobby-like with large green eyes and white hair. Very cute. The mad old dark wizard takes him to the underground market(find a name for that, possibly The Devil's Crown?) and sold into slavery. Meanwhile Snape has decided to sell Spinner's End and buys a new home, one Briarwood Cottage. He might not need all the room there but the potion's lab is irresistible. Finding that cleaning the large place too much work he decided to call in a favor from a friend and get himself a house elf.
Saith by Fitful: I know I'm bad. I haven't updated in almost a year, sorry sorry sorry sorry. I'm very sorry. I lost my muse for this once scene. She took off and refuses to speak about it. Drat her. I wouldn't bother, and just cut it, but its the scene I've been planning since chapter one. So Saith is on hold. Maybe Permanent Like. But probably not. Just temporary. Until I get inspiration. It could be a week, it could be a year. So, sorry again, but still. No touchy. Mine.
Ok. Until the next story.