#14 shirts in my WIP file
Text
that ass tho
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ummm literally just made an account and have no idea how this works. Then found this wip in my docs. I have no idea where I was going with it but it will now see the light of day. Omg I didn't even proofread it pls ignore my typos.
Tim woke up in a bed that was not his own.
Not unusual. He sometimes slept in his parents’ bedroom. It smelt like them and would sometimes feel like being with them. But this wasn’t any bedroom that Tim knew.
It was bigger than his room, with navy walls and dark curtains that covered a window larger than the one he was used to. It was also empty, with a few necessities furnishing the sparseness. Tim’s bedroom had never known emptiness after Mrs Mac had given up on it when Tim was 9.
There were some clothes on the ground. Which was something. He sat up, pucshing off teh soft blanket that gathered at his waits. His bare feet hit the carpeted floor as he continued his research. The clothes on the ground were too big for him. A collared white shirt and charcoal slacks. He found a tie of matching colour under his bed. It reminded him of Dad, this was the sort of thing he wore when he went to the office.
He looked to the closet and found nothing else. More shirts and ties in different shades, a pair of dress shoes, and a plain yellow hoodie. He didn’t know these clothes. Tim glanced down at his current outfit, a loose black shirt with Superman’s symbol on it and a pair of sweatpants he’d folded three times at the hip for them to stay on. The shirt was something he would wear, so maybe…
Batman had protocols for time travel. Nothing that he had ever explicitly told Tim since he was way too busy devising ways to make Tim quit, but files that Tim had read over when he had a minute to spare, The rules were fairly simple, should he go back in time, he was not allowed to inform anyone he knew of the future nor could he change anything. Things were a bit loose on how to proceed if he traveled to the future, but not to ask any questions and seek the quickest way back home was the best summary of the lengthy text.
And, it looked like he was at Wayne Manor. So Batman must be around. He would know how to fix this. And, would Tim be able to meet himself? The adult version?
He fights the urge to grin as he tugs open the bedroom door and makes his way to the cave on silent feet. Batman find it unprofessional. Tim’s never actually been in the family wing before, so he goes into the wrong room. It’s an office, but not Bruce’s. There’s a desk in the middle of the room, a whiteboard tacked to one large wall and an old couch near the doorway. Tim wanders inside. He’s never seen it before. There’s an open laptop on the table, so Tim goes there first. It’s likely locked, and he’s not surprised when he finds a neutral blue screen asking the pincode, what’s actually surprising is the person ID. Tim Drake. This is his laptop.
He doesn’t know why but the first number that comes to him is the day he learnt how to ride a bike. It was nothing super amazing. Some of the other kids in class could do it with no hands, or do wheelies. But Tim was proud. He had figured it out on his own, his father didn’t need to teach him. It baceme the most important date to him for a while.
He taps in the numbers with hesitant fingers and presses the enter key. It’s accepted.
The laptop opens on a video.
“Shit,” says a much older Tim. “You must be 14. Oh god.”
So there's been some manner rouge attack and the outcome of said rounge attack is that Tim's been deaged to 14. Tim is also Red Robin. Tim also doesn't have a spleen. There may also be ninjas attacking him at random in order to seduce him to their evil immortal overlord's side and likely into his bed. He's also the CEO of Wayne Enterprises.
"Yeah, I get that it's a lot. But uh, we've always had to deal with a lot, huh? This is a little different from usual, but eh semantics. So, if you're ever confused about anything, find the phone under your pillow and call a person named Pru, she can help you out with any Leaugue of Assassins business and call Kon if it's about anything else."
Big Tim smiles and it's shocking how similar he looks to Tim. He's not s chubby, he's got sharper eyes and cheekbones and his hair is longer than anything Tim would dare to try, but his smile is the same. It's a little joking, a little happy, and just like the thing Tim had seen on the surface of the Batmobile when Batman told him he did a good job at patrol.
"But you're me, so you got this," says Big Tim. He suddenly looks up over the camera and his expression fades into something neutral. Two seconds pass, Tim hears a door close. "Also, you should get out of the manor as quick as you can. That place wasn't safe for me and it isn't safe for you now. Jason Todd is alive and he hates us. Avoid the Robin in a katana, he's got it out for us too. Bruce can't keep us safe" - Tim notes a miniscule shift in the muscles of Big Tim's jaw - "or won't, if it's possible, he's even harder to read now. Dick is…" Tim watches as his face falls and something that looks alarmingly like a tear wells up in his eyes. "Dick is… We're not the most important thing to him. Don't count on him to have your back, it's better if you ditch before he sees you."
There's a lot to think about. And before he has the time to give any idea in those last few sentences any serious thought. The Tim on screen is already moving on.
"Address, phone, laptop and everything else should be in the hidden compartment above your bed. Feel around for the switch. Get to the apartment and send an email to Tam Fox, use the words 'I am unwell and cannot make it to the office. Please postpone my meetings and cancel the order' she'll know what that means. That should be everything. Good luck, kid. "
The screen cuts to black and Tim's up and moving before he can stew on the contents of the video for too long. It was a selfish thought anyway, that Bruce and Dick and Alfred woul ever love him. He's the replacement for a dead boy, it would have been impossible to live up to him, Tim doesn't know why he tried. And oh god, Jason Todd hates him. The back of his throat burns and he gulps down a swallow, unwilling to let the sounds of his sob infect the silent manor. His hero hates him. The boy he loved the most in the world hates him.
Dick Grayson was an ideal. Something perfect and untouchable, he wasn't actually. Nobody was perfect, But the first Robin and now Nightwing had always given off the aura of untouchable idealility. He was the example to follow, the person everyone strove to be or wanted to be near. In his brief stint as Robin, Tim noticed how he drove people towards them. Bruce didn’t know it, but he was lighter when Dick was around, and Barabara was more likely to join patrols. The older Titans gravitated around him, like planets in his orbit, a product of long-term trust and friendship, but even strangers seemed to know that Dick was all that is good.
Of course, Tim knew that he could never replace Jason as his brother, but in the deepest part of his heart, he had always hoped to become family adjacent. That one day Dick would look at him with the same softness he only reserved for Bruce and Alfred. To know that he could not even trust him… Well, that hurt more than he thought possible.
Through some miracle of God, Tim didn’t cry and managed to find the hidden compartment above his bed. In a square hole the size of a small cabinet he found a slim laptop, a phone, and a thick stack of money bound together by a rubber band. There were no clothes he could switch into, but this Gotham was likely similar to his Gotham, no one would bat an eye at a boy wearing oversized clothes. He found some sneakers in the closet, too big, but he fit them over his feet anyway and snuck out of his room for the second time.
Silence reigned supreme in the manor, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Tim’s house. Big Tim said his house was destroyed in the aftermath of an earthquake that changed a lot of Gotham’s cityscape. The address he found on the phone in his hand was somewhere in the middle of the city, so the second thing he did was call for an Uber in the most silent voice possible. The person on the phone informed him of a twenty-minute wait, which would be plenty of time for Tim to escape Batman’s house and wait outside Drake manor.
The phone was shoved into pockets of his sweatpants, while the money and the laptop rested in a bag he had discovered, and after much exploration, he found what looked to be a family room.
Tim cursed. This may take longer than his estimated time. He set off down another promising hallway, only to stutter to a stop when he heard voices.
“So? ‘S he alright? Baby bird took a pretty bad hit,” says a voice. It’s rough, like the voice of a smoker, and possesses a thick Crime Alley accent. Male.
Tim feels his heart stop when he hears the first man’s companion respond. “Alred says he’s healthy, so we moved him up to his room. Timmy should be waking up soon.”
It’s Dick. No no no- He’s supposed to be avoiding Dick. That’s what Big Tim said to do. He shouldn’t be here. He should be moving.
It’s all for naught because that’s when the men turn the corner and run right into Tim. He runs a quick glance over them. Tall, muscular, and big. One’s bigger than the other and has a white streak through his hair. The other is… it’s Dick. Older, with more lines near his eyes and mouth, but the same person he saw at patrol earlier (or later, depending on who you asked) that day.
The person who didn’t love him. Who didn’t even like him maybe?
Tim can’t help it. When their eyes widen and older Dick takes a step toward him, he bursts into tears.
36 notes
·
View notes
Note
Wip files tag game: I’m so curious about what Akolla is 👀 -stuffaboutwriting
Ahhh thank you I'm so glad someone asked! Akolla is a person, as are Talil and Tlapil. They're all part of a 1,000-year fantasy history I'm building surrounding the kingdom of Halara. Specifically, there will be 10 books, focusing on different generations of the royal family.
Akolla is the focus of the second book, the fourth royal generation after Talil the war hero united them as one kingdom. Akolla is an only child and the first royal generation to be somewhat isolated from the general population, though he doesn't live in an actual castle until he becomes Kelesh (the Halaran word for ruler).
I'm not going to tell you everything about Akolla because that won't be all that interesting out of context. What I am going to tell you is about their gender system, because it's my favorite part. Halaran only has one pronoun for all people, vi, but I use different pronouns to differentiate in English. Their gender system is fun and complex, so have an organized list:
Children don't have a gender at all. They all wear tunics and leggings and grow their hair long (well, everyone grows their hair long but adults cover it). They choose their gender when they reach the age of apprenticeship at 14. There's a big ceremony and everything. At that point they start wearing gendered adult clothes and hair coverings--almost all adults wear some sort of headscarves.
With 6 different gender options, gender (mostly) is not based on physicality but on what you prioritize in life, what you want to project to the world, and which deity you feel most represents your self.
Gendered clothing is traditional but not completely fixed--the headscarf style is near-universal and can be the only way to read gender. But also, one can't always be sure. That doesn't matter as much when you don't need to know what pronoun to use for someone, and asking can start interesting conversations.
Ku is the gender associated with the sun deity, with warmth and farming and protection and life. They wear skirts and loose shirts and headscarves in a style similar to a tichel. I use eso/eson pronouns in translation
Aig is the gender associated with the river deity, with strength and leadership and hardiness and endurance. They wear pants and loose shirts and headscarves in a style similar to a turban. I use be/bel pronouns for them.
Dakal is the gender associated with the wilderness deity, with athletics, freedom, cunning, and bravery. They wear long robes and headscarves similar to a flowy hijab style. I use zie/zir for them.
Zjigol is a gender associated with the deity of craftsmanship, associated with art, creativity, entertainment, puzzles, and beauty. They wear wrap-around skirts and either no shirt or a shawl depending on weather and their own preferences. Their headscarves are worn tied at the base of the skull with a tail down their back or over their shoulder. I was running out of options by this point and I'm really not sure what they're called. I use ne/nem pronouns for them.
Kenba is a gender associated with the deity of change, with seasons, adventure, relationships, and politics. They wear single-piece jumpsuits with varying levels of tight or loose fitting legs depending on the current style. Their headscarves are tied tight across their hair with a knot above their forehead. I use kri/krun for them.
Yo'em are different. Traditionally, originally, one was considered a holy and blessed child if they were born with different physical traits. This includes noticeable intersex traits, those that appear at birth or at puberty, as well as other unusual ways to be born, missing or with differently shaped limbs, etc. Initially, they had no choice in the matter and were often sent to become priests (although others could be as well). They were thought to be good omens. In later years, their options expanded and they were given more choice. Eventually, some began to choose their own gender while others redefined what being yo'em meant to them. They wear tunics and leggings, but in a much more adult style than children's, and no headscarf, leaving their hair loose. I use the Halaran pronoun vi for them because I'd run out by then.
#I am still working on tweaking the details for sensitivity and coherence and such#but I'm also very proud of how I built their culture and language around this#the other kingdoms surrounding them have different systems#Eng is very binary#Aled has a third gender much like many real cultures#Nita is binary but much more accepting of being trans or enby#like an idealized modern western society#Moshke writes#Halara#ask game#thanks for the ask!#Writeblr
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
:-) I got tagged by @rockingrobin69 and @maziktheli !!!
The rules are: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. Doesn’t have to be writing, your wips can be anything! Talk to me about your art, meta, knitting projects (seriously!)
W.I.P in pieces: ask me about my backlog
1-4 hyper local [666, himbo, bodega cat, sex shop]
5 It’s the journey
6 drarryoneis [illustrated][nox?]
7-8 binge pilot txt, place setting
9 actual western anime
10 aaa I’m stupid txt
11 ghost world x grim old place
12 mice !!! skinner and skinner
13 chowards violet
14 vampire horny jump scare
15 but I’m a cheerleader v 1
16 sectumsempra 2
17 Madonna Lily
18 catspotting
BONUS !!! [these are personal projects :-)] :
19) screenplay casting poster
20) wikimedia commons collection
21) sad garden stickerz
22) T-shirt irl
I am not tagging 18-22 people TT I just can’t! So if you see this and were born on the 18th-22nd of any month, I am tagging you!
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
WIP GAME
Rules: Post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it.
Thank you @gfawkesphoenixchokingonashes for the tag. Oh gods...my WIP folders are a mess! Several of these are for the Stucky Bingo and in various stages of completion but there's other stuff. Definitely want to finish these for sure lol!
1. Football AU
2. High End Service
3. Love in Gradual Focus
4. The Great Equalizer
5. These Words Were Made To Hurt
6. You're What I Needed All Along
7. Accidental Baby Acquisition
8. Coffee Shop AU
9. Coma AU
10. Hanahaki
11. If You Can't Beat Them, Join Them
12. Marine Biologist Enemies to Lovers AU
13. Singing
14. When You Look At Me
15. White Shirt
I have very few of these even partially published in AO3 because I'm trying to be better about finishing (or mostly finishing) projects before uploading them. Sorry about that. 😭😭😭
No pressure tagging and if you've already done this, my bad! @musette22 @duchessonfire @buckyismybicycle @controlofwhatido @itsfeistyred
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Will You?
Welcome to the content dump, where I'm clearing out my WIP folder from my YEAR of writing fanfic... so be ready for a bunch of random posts that don't fit together and have no central plot other than me wanting to write a one-shot that was so specific I had to just get it out.
Supreme Leader garbage, order up.
TW/CW: mild NSFW, mention of injury, lite-angst, fluff is there too, this is sappy shit, established relationship, Kylo doesn't enjoy telling people his personal information, female reader insert, swearing.
Here is the Mega Masterlist, the Kylo Ren Masterlist, and the Supreme Leader Masterlist (this is currently my hyperfixation) :)
“Hey…could you come down to the medbay for a little bit? We’re having a situation.”
You sat up in bed, tablet squished between your shoulder and ear. “Yeah what’s going on?”
A sigh, “Look, just come down and I’ll fill you in when you get here.”
Hanging up, you rolled off the bed. Walking to your closet, pushing past all of Kylos robes to find your clothes. You made a mental note to have a droid come down and remove all his stuff. Since you kicked him out yesterday evening, you weren’t expecting him to come back. You threw on some black leggings, boots, and a long-sleeve black shirt. Ruffling your hair so it didn’t look like you had just laid in bed and cried for 14 hours.
When you arrived at the bay everyone was scattered around. Nurses and doctors shuffling patients all over the place. You made it to the front desk, patiently waiting for Kate and Christopher. Your old coworker, and an ex-boyfriend. It had been about 6 months since you ‘resigned’ from working, which was all Kylos doing. He didn’t like you not being available for him 24/7.
Kate turned to you, a thick file in her hands. She looked exhausted, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she looked at you. Chris was no better, glaring at you while he had his arms crossed. Both of them looked very pissed off at you.
“Look,” Kate sighed, rubbing her temples with her free hand, “I’m going to be blunt, and I need you to answer honestly. Are you dating the Supreme Leader?”
Your eyes widened, mouth gaping as you tried to think of a response. Kylo had never called you his girlfriend, he referred to you as his ‘cum bucket’ ‘little girl’ or even the occasional ‘princess’ if he was feeling nice. He definitely didn’t want people knowing he was fucking you daily. Saying that he didn’t want to put you in danger, but he barely gave you affection that wasn’t a ploy to get inside you. You swallowed, crossing your arms defensively, “No. I’m not dating, or have ever dated the Supreme Leader.”
“Okay,” she groaned, “Well I need you to come with us.”
You trailed down the hallway, everyone staring at you as you followed. Mostly faces of pity, and fear, especially the closer you got to the issue. Kate paused in front of the doorway, turning to you again.
“So here’s the issue,” She stared you down, “The Supreme Leader was admitted this morning, after collapsing on the bridge. He was brought in kicking and screaming while bleeding profusely from a wound on his side. He also sustained a significant amount of damage from his fall and a recent combat he returned from yesterday evening.”
You nodded along, waiting to see where you came into this.
Chris cleared his throat, “They also believe he broke his knee, but he won’t let anyone touch him. He’s attacked three medics and keeps ripping out his IV.”
“And,” Kate mumbled, “He also threatened to kill Chris, because ‘he was the reason you dumped him’.”
“When he came in he was begging for someone to go get you, and began to get violent when we told him unless you were his emergency contact we couldn’t involve an ex-medic.”
Suddenly the door slid open, revealing a very angry Kylo Ren. His chest was rising and falling in shallow bursts, face red and sweaty. Blood seeping through his armor, he immediately hissed at the two medics. “If you even so much as touch me I will rip off your limbs one by one-.”
“Kylo Ren!” You shouted, moving around Kate and Chris. Standing directly in front of him, scowling up to his face. “Is that how you fucking talk to people? Hmm?”
His eyes immediately dilated, taking in a short wet breath. Shoulders dropping in defeat, “No.” He wiped his nose, sniffling away small tears that slipped through. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“Well,” you shrugged, “I didn’t know you were so injured. Now get back in that bed and let them help you.”
Kylos hand reached out, attempting to grab your wrist. But you ripped away from him, walking into the room. Standing directly next to the bed, face neutral as he watched you avoid him.
“Come here,” you growled through your teeth.
He slowly limped over to you, his own face now holding a scowl. Sitting down loudly next to you, his eyes not leaving your face. You looked over at your friends, who were still out in the hallway, “So, we aren’t dating. We never have-.”
Kylo butt in, “Yes we are.”
“No, we aren’t,” you groaned, “You have specifically told me that under no circumstance am I to tell people that we were sleeping together.”
He clicked his tongue, “Well I’m not the one who kicked me out of our shared chambers...”
“Oh my god, I’m not doing this right now with you. Let’s get you out of your robes so they can assess you.”
Kylo glanced at the others, glaring at them, “Get out.”
Once they left the room he stood again, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to the bed. “We are dating or were until yesterday. Just because I never said it doesn’t mean you weren’t my lover.”
You groaned, “I know I was your lover, but you never said I was your girlfriend! You’ve always said the opposite of that!”
He leaned back, chewing his cheek as he thought. “Well, will you?”
“Will I what?”
“Be that.”
“Kylo, use your words,” you rubbed your face in frustration.
He looked down at the ground, mumbling as he spoke. “Be my girlfriend or partner, or lover, or whatever the fuck will make you happy.”
Your eyebrows shot up, reaching for his face so he would look at you. “If I say yes will you let them reset your knee and stitch you up?”
“As long as you take care of me,” he whispered.
“You do realize that you have to do boyfriend things like give me affection if we are going to actually date.”
He rolled his eyes, “I already give you affection.”
You shook your head, “Sticking your dick in me isn’t the affection I’m talking about.”
Kylo leaned back on the cot, eyes wandering over your figure as he hummed at your accusations. Pawing at the hem of your shirt, “I tried to come back last night, but you deleted my pin for the door.”
“I did do that.”
“I couldn’t sleep without you,” he whispered into your neck, placing a light kiss as he tried working your top off. “I missed laying next to you.”
“Oh yeah?” you smiled, nuzzling into his neck. Even though he was sweaty and gross, you wanted to be close to him. You really did enjoy being with him, even when he insisted that you weren’t together, he would still give you moments of pure devotion. Kylo began pushing you down on the bed, caging you with his frame. “I know what you’re doing, Supreme Leader.”
“Mmm,” he mumbled, maneuvering your legs so they were wrapped around his waist. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You began to push him off, giving him soft kisses as you leaned forward. His lips wrapped around your earlobe, lightly sucking on the skin as he tried to push you back down. You groaned, squeezing your legs into his ribs. Causing him to jolt up with a hiss in pain.
“Sorry,” you cringed, “We really need to get you stitched up.”
Kylo whined, pressing his forehead into your chest, “Can’t you just do it from home?”
You sighed, pushing his shoulders so he would maneuver against the bed. Ignoring when he winced in pain, his ribs were probably hurting. Kylo collapsed, whimpering as you began to undress him. Ripping his boots off first, pulling apart his tunic, you tried to stop yourself from gagging. He was soaked in blood, each article clinging to him.
There was a knock at the door, you mumbled a ‘come in’ even though Kylo hissed. Kate handed you some scissors to cut off his underclothes. Along with ripping down his pants, “Don’t bend your knee,” you whispered, pinning the limb down since he tried to shimmy away.
After you undressed him, you held out a black scrub gown for him to wear, "Arms up."
"No."
You scowled, earning one matching back at you while Kate groaned in the corner. Typing away on the computer to ready him for an x-ray and eventual surgery.
"Come on," you held it up again, "You can't just be naked while they operate on you, so you need to wear this."
"They aren't going to operate on me."
Kylo raised his brows at you, pouting like a child in just his briefs and smeared in blood and bruises. God, he looked terrible, but the attitude was worse. You couldn't let him win this, "Yes, they are." you motioned to his fucked up knee cap, pushed in the wrong direction.
How did he even walk on that, and how didn't you notice it last night?
"Look at your leg, Kylo," you sighed, grasping his wrist that he tried to keep away from you. Struggling away in the process of threading his arms through the holes and pushing his chest towards his legs to tie in the back.
"Stop moving me, you're a very mean nurse."
You smiled, "Well, I'm not your nurse, I'm just your mean girlfriend."
-------
TAGLIST 2022 FORM: @finn-ray-nal-beads @thepalaceofmelanie @moonyscardigans @ghoulian13 @botnasty @xxgarden @pop-rocks-and-skittles @historyandfandoms50 @doggycompiex @daydreamsofren @millenialcatlady @ladyjade83 @mariesackler @eagerforhoney @celes @emi11ie @caillea @uncle-eggy @loganluckylover @emeritusemeritus @cornmousequeen @shesakillerkween @insufferablelust @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @zimmermansbrat
#adam driver#adamdriver#kylo ren#kylo ren x reader#kylo ren x female reader#established relationship#my writing#supreme leader kylo ren#star wars sequel trilogy fic#tw: mention of injury#tw: kylos a cry baby and not very nice#going through very old Supreme Leader WIPS#just tryna content dump while i work on fics#oneshot#short one shot
174 notes
·
View notes
Text
WIP Wednesday! 7/14/2021
Here is an excerpt from chapter 2 of the Yullen soulmate AU that I'm working on. Enjoy!
“I can’t believe you can drink something so boring.” Allen says as he watches Kanda sip the warm green tea that he brought for him. Kanda sits in his chair at his desk and Allen had pulled over an extra chair to sit with him.
“Not my fault that you can’t appreciate something unless its syrup.” Kanda throws back eyeing the drink in Allen’s hand. He’s wearing gloves again. He’s curious, but not enough to ask about it. When Allen takes a drink, he fully turns away from Kanda to raise his mask just enough to drink from it. It’s making Kanda feel like a spring being wound tighter and tighter.
“I can appreciate things!” Allen says. “It’s you who’s too stupid and pretentious, stupid Kanda.”
“Me?” Kanda scoffs.
Just then there’s a loud crash from the Chief’s office. Lieutenant Reever comes running out of Komui’s office chased by a drone.
“Chief, stop! I didn’t mean it!” Reever yells, covering his head with his arms from the drones whizzing blades. Komui comes out of his office with a proud grin and the controller held firmly in his hands.
“You can’t take my drones away!” Komui laughs after his cowering Trigger. His beret is slightly skewed on his head. “They’re too strong, Reever!”
“Komui, that’s dangerous inside the office!”
“What the hell is going on?” Allen looks on the scene with wide eyes. Kanda sighs and puts his cup down on his desk. Then he grabs a pen. Turning to the drone as it menacingly nose dives down at Lieutenant Reever, Kanda lines up the shot. He throws the pen like a spear right into the spinning blades of the drone. The thing shakes in the air for a second, before falling to the ground right next to Reever. The man scoops up the drone and runs off.
“Reever wait! Bring back my baby!” Komui wails. Then the Chief turns to Kanda. “How dare you injure my child, Kanda”
“Don’t terrorize your soulmate, Chief.” Lavi pipes up from his desk. He doesn’t look up from their files he’s already working on. Hopefully they can finish editing the hundreds of pages long file by the end of the day. Komui pouts till his eyes land on Allen watching the whole thing unfold.
“Allen Walker? Is that you?” Komui says, coming over to Kanda’s desk.
“Yes, I’m just visiting, sir.” Allen says so politely that it makes Kanda’s head snap to the Beansprout.
“Really? What’s with the mask? Are you sick?” Komui asks in rapid fire succession.
“Oh, it’s because…” Allen starts, looking over to Kanda shyly. This sudden change in Allen is so jarring to Kanda he almost drops the cup of tea he’d just picked back up. Allen clasps his own drink in front of him with two hands and looks up at Komui with respect.
“He’s Yuu’s Trigger.” Lavi leans over his desk, files abandoned now in order to join in the conversation, obviously finding far more entertainment in this than their work. This reveal doesn’t stun Komui, no doubt because Lenalee told him already. Instead, he turns to Kanda then with a look on his face like he’s trying to solve an intricate puzzle or win a difficult game of chess.
“He is, huh?” Komui says. “That certainly is interesting.”
“Lenalee already told you. Stop giving me that look.” Kanda says sharply. Komui calmly holds Kanda’s glare for a second before checking his watch.
“Oh, look at the time! Allen, don’t you have a class to teach soon? Do you need a ride to campus?” Komui asks. Allen whips out his phone from the pocket of his pants to check the time.
“Oh my god, you’re right!” Allen starts to gather his bag from it’s spot on the floor next to Kanda’s. “No, thank you for the ride, sir, I’ll just catch the bus from here!”
Kanda sits up stiffly. Bus? The Beansprout doesn’t drive?
“Will you make it in time?”
“Yeah, yes, sir. I will.” Allen says, getting up from the chair. He waves to Lavi before turning to Kanda once more. His eyes lock with Allen’s under his mop of white hair, and colors start to bloom in a halo around his head. The blue of the police insignia on the wall behind him, the bright yellow of his shirt, the pink of Allen’s ears, the red of his scar. Allen breathlessly says, “Bye.”
Once again, Kanda is left to watch him go, fingers itching with touch, want, keep. The colors that had so briefly been in view, fade out of sight as Allen gets on the elevator. When he’s left in just the black and the gray, he barely feels the warmth of the cup of tea in his hand.
“So,” Komui turns to him inquisitively. “You have another soulmate.”
“Komui.” Kanda warns, the alarms in his head warning him that Komui might say something that’s too far, too much.
“Does he know?” Komui continues despite Kanda’s warning. “Have you told him about Alma?”
The name coming out of his superior’s mouth sets his blood on fire.
“Allen doesn’t know, and he doesn’t need to know. He’s not my fucking soulmate.” Kanda seethes. He slams his cup down onto his desk. Some of the tea splashes past the lid and onto his hand. He ignores how it burns on his skin.
“Oh, Kanda…” Komui stares at him with sadness brewing in his eyes.
“If you don’t mind, Chief,” He emphasizes Komui’s title. “Go back to your office so I can get to work.”
Komui makes the smart decision to leave back to his office. Kanda goes back to the pile of papers on his desk, stewing in his anger.
“You’re really not gonna tell Allen?” Lavi says. Kanda cuts a glare up at his partner. “He deserves to know, you know.”
No. No he doesn’t. He doesn’t need to know anything.
#dgm#d.gray-man#allen walker#kanda yuu#yullen#wip wednesday#should i just drop my working title for this fic yet?#maybe i'll give it another week#becca writes#look! I figured out how to use the read more function!#i love picking out which bits of lore and plot im going to give yall in these excerpts#cause this isnt your basic seeing-color-when-you-see-your-soulmate au#theres LORE!!#MUWAHAHAHAHA#and theres only one other person who knows most of my lore and plot other than me
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Least Favorite
Hey everyone! This is a little extra from my ChloNath fake dating fic, Honey I’m Home, but it also functions as a standalone oneshot for those who haven’t read HIH. Enjoy!
Warning: Contains detailed descriptions of blood.
--
He had painted her numerous times, but not like this. Running a thumb coated in gold down her cheek, yellow and black dipped fingers over her neck. He’d never kissed a canvas before. His canvas had never kissed him before. Whispered his name before.
Nathaniel.
Laid across his chest, restricting his breathing before.
“Nathaniel.” ...Or shaken his shoulder, jolting him from sleep before. “Wake up.”
Nathaniel blinked tired eyes, vision blurry from the mess of blonde hair draped across his face. He pulled it back to find a dark room, only dimly lit by the first dull hints of light peeking out from behind the curtains.
“Chloé?” he asked groggily. “What time is it?”
She was already partially on top of him, but he wheezed as Chloé leaned further forward across his chest to check the alarm clock on the other side of the bed. “5:03.” He opened his mouth to complain but before he could, she was talking over him. “How many drawings do you have of me?”
He blinked, squeezing his eyes shut a couple times as if that could clear the fog in his head. He felt like he was missing something. “What?”
“How many drawings do you have of me?” she repeated, voice more insistent. “Or paintings, or pastels, or whatever.”
Nathaniel blinked up at the woman hovering over him, watching him with an expression that was far too awake, alert, and inquisitive for this god awful hour. His brain was moving slowly, he knew it was, but no, he wasn’t missing anything. It was just Chloé being Chloé. “The sun’s not even up yet. Why are you awake?”
“Dunno,” she shrugged, brushing past him. “Answer the question. How many? It’s more than I’ve seen, isn’t it?” Nathaniel pressed his lips together, glaring at her. A knowing smile spread across her lips. “It is; I knew it. How many?”
“...I don’t know.”
She drummed her hand on his chest persistently. “Aw come on, tell me.”
Nathaniel rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead and let out a long sigh, resigning himself to the world of the living. “I’m serious,” he admitted. “Too many to count.”
Any embarrassment he might have had to confess such a thing melted under the light of that smile. “Show me,” she said, still a demand, but speaking the slightest bit softer.
“Okay.”
It took about five seconds of her watching him expectantly to realize, “You mean right now, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Nathaniel frowned at her, but he knew it was pointless. Both of them knew he would do anything for that stupidly beautiful face. She knew he would do anything for that stupidly beautiful face. Even cater to her random demands at the crack of dawn.
Five minutes later Nathaniel found himself sitting in front of his computer with Chloé on his lap, one arm around her waist while the other maneuvered the mouse to pull up his art folders. He double clicked the folder titled Her Majesty then handed over the reins. As Chloé leaned forward to scroll through the various files, he rested his forehead against her back and closed his eyes, a small but powerful portion of him still hopelessly clinging to the notion of sleep.
“What even are these titles? A-l-k-s-d-f-j-a-l-s-k,” he huffed a small laugh as she read out each individual letter in the keyboard smash, “bees, bees question mark, bees and honey, go to sleep, gothefucktosleep—all one word—hella gangsta…” a pause as she scrolled further down, “oh and here’s just a sea of wips. Wip 14, wip 178, wip 389, wip 509—Jeez how many works in progress can you have?”
“A lot,” he responded, voice muffled by her shirt—well, his shirt, just on her.
“How do you even keep track of anything this way? There’s no organization system, no order; it’s just complete chaos. You don’t even have unfinished works separate from the finished ones!”
“Excuse me,” he grumbled, “I agreed to show you my art, not have my system criticized at five in the morning.”
“I’m serious though, how do you not lose track of everything?”
He shrugged. “It works for me.”
Even if he wasn’t looking, he knew she was shaking her head. “Absolute madness.”
A comfortable silence finally settled over them as Chloé began actually opening up images to look at them. He breathed slow and deep, sinking himself in the lingering scent of her perfume from yesterday. The sound of clicking slowly grew more and more distant as the comforting beat of her heart took over, the peaceful lull of sleep seeping back into his body.
Right as his mind was starting to cross over into dream mode, Chloé’s voice shattered the silence, waking him again with a tiny shock. “Show me your least favorite drawing of me.”
“What?”
“Your least favorite. The worst one. I want to know.”
“Why?”
“Because I do,” she replied simply, as if that should be self-evident. She twisted to look at him, forcing Nathaniel to pick up his head and open his eyes again. He frowned at her expectant look. “Come on, it can’t be that bad.” He pressed his lips together, his frown only deepening. She narrowed her eyes, giving him an inquisitive smirk. “Is it dirty?”
He rolled his eyes. “No.”
“You have dirty ones though, don’t you?”
“N—,” he paused as he thought. “…No.”
A wicked grin spread across her lips. “What was that hesitation, Nathaniel?”
“I don’t have any dirty drawings of you.”
“But you have something.”
Two seconds of staring, a battle of wills. He was—unfortunately—very weak. Nathaniel sighed and leaned forward, taking the mouse. He scrolled until he found the file titled Summer Heat.
“Ooh.” She leaned forward to inspect it as he dropped his head against her back again, this time more so trying to hide his embarrassment than fall back asleep.
The drawing wasn’t dirty, but he would be lying if he claimed it wasn’t created in the passion of heat and desire. It was pinup style, featuring a practically glowing Chloé seated on the hood of a car—fashioned after Bumblebee from Transformers, naturally. She had one leg pulled up to rest her elbow on while the other leg extended down toward the ground. From the arm resting on her knee she held a cherry red lollipop up to matching lips that were parted in a seductive smirk. She wore a yellow and black striped T-shirt tucked into black high waisted shorts that really didn’t offer much coverage of her thighs, and draped over one shoulder was a black leather jacket with a patch on the sleeve depicting a bee with a crown. Light shined off of everything—the gold buttons on her shorts, the gloss on her lips, the sheen on her skin—serving to accentuate her every curve and the sweat slicked heat of the summer sun.
“Wow,” she said. “I’m hot.”
Nathaniel huffed a laugh more out of relief than anything. “Yes you are. And it was really hot that day, and I… Yeah.” He even had her hair pulled back in the exact yellow bow she had been wearing at the time.
“I should get a pair of shorts like that…” she mused.
“No, you really shouldn’t.” Or I will die; please have mercy.
She giggled and he got the distinct impression that she was going to actively seek out those shorts now.
“Alright, now show me your least favorite.”
“…No.”
“Come ooooon,” she groaned, twisting toward him again. He frowned, blinking tired eyes up at her. “I doubt it’s as bad as you think.”
“It’s not that it’s bad, it’s…” He bit the inside of his cheek, unsure how to finish that sentence.
After a few seconds with no answer, Chloé squeezed his arm gently. “Come on, show me.”
He stared up at curious eyes in a dark room, the only light that of the screen behind her, outlining her figure in a heavenly glow. She was radiant, beautiful, breathtaking, and he was so helpless to do anything but her every bidding. As he watched her this time—looking back and forth between those eyes that absolutely owned everything that he was—it was less a test of will, and more a question of how stubbornly he would deny her in order to keep from making old scars fresh for the both of them.
The gaze that looked back was patient, but adamant. Somehow, she knew this wasn’t a battle of will, but a battle she would win nonetheless.
Would he ever learn to say no to her?
With a long breath out, Nathaniel finally released what was left of his resistance and took the mouse. He didn’t look when he opened up the file. He didn’t need to. Despite giving it physical form, the image it seemed would forever be etched into his mind in full, painstaking detail.
“Oh,” she whispered as she leaned forward. Nathaniel rested the side of his head against her, pressing his ear to her back to listen to that reassuring heartbeat as he wrapped a second arm around her and pulled her close. “This is...real.”
It was a complete work, and objectively speaking probably one of his best. The details and shading were as fleshed out as his artwork got, complete with every tiny speck of dirt on her skin, every stray strand of hair. Every drop of blood. The piece was entirely greyscale with the exception of the blood—bright awful vibrant red pooling at her waist, soaking her shirt, painting her hand. Smudges of it colored his own hand where it sat atop hers, holding pressure to the wound to keep her from bleeding out right there in that alley.
His other hand held her head, fingers tangled through long locks, knotted and frizzy and loose from her usual ponytail. Decorating her cheek were two drops of water where his tears had fallen, and worst of all were the eyes. Eyes that were usually so bright, so fiery, so spirited, were instead emotionless, dull—not quite lifeless, but tired and void as they looked up at him with that excruciating blank stare.
He hated it. He couldn’t stand to look at the image and he hadn’t since finishing it and putting it away. Making it in the first place was utter hell. Every stroke of his stylus pained him. He felt like he was the one cutting into her flesh, as if he were the cause of her injury. He was hurting her—hurting Chloé held in his own arms on the screen.
He could feel the scar under his palm where it rested on her waist now.
“I didn’t want to make it in the first place,” he murmured. Her hand settled over his, fingers delicately brushing the backs of his knuckles. “It was stuck in my head for weeks. It wouldn’t go away, even after you stabilized, even after you were out of the hospital, even after you were already up in the air again. It was just there, burned into my mind’s eye at all times, the scene playing over and over and… I finally made this just to...get rid of it. Give it physical form so it could be put away.”
“I get why you didn’t want to show me now,” she whispered. Then a tiny breath of laughter. “And why you didn’t want to leave the hospital. I mean… Did I really look so…?” She never finished that sentence, but he could fill in the unspoken word on the end.
“Yeah.”
She stared at the image for a few more seconds before closing out of it. Nathaniel picked up his head again as she turned to face him, and was relieved to find her still just as at ease as she was before. If seeing herself near death had shaken her at all, it didn’t show.
Cold fingers combed back hair from his forehead. “I never thanked you.”
“For what?”
“What do you think, idiot?” Even if her words were aggressive, her tone was anything but. She spoke softly, with the gentlest hint of laughter in her voice. “For saving my life.”
“I don’t thank you every time you save my life, or all of Paris,” he rebuked.
She immediately rolled her eyes, an amused sort of annoyance taking to her face. “Yeah, but that’s my job.”
He felt a calm smile returning to his lips. “Yeah, and being your sidekick is mine.”
“Oh I see.” She shifted her position so she sat perpendicular to him and draped an arm over his shoulder. His hands naturally settled at her hips. “So I’m just a job to you.”
Nathaniel found his face tilting upward in automatic response to the way Chloé inclined her head, an intimate space coming into existence between them complete with the magnetic draw of gravity itself. “Of course,” he responded, matching her sarcasm with his own, but still not breaking the quiet of the moment, “what else could you ever possibly be to me?”
Her second hand brushed more loose hair behind his ear before settling at the base of his neck. “Certainly nothing romantic. I mean, look at us.” She was speaking in a low murmur now that sent a subtle but powerful spark down the length of his spine. His thumbs dipped under the hem of her shirt as she leaned in closer. A strand of her hair tickled his collarbone. Whispered words brushed his lips. “There’s no chemistry here.”
Even if they had been dating for five months, Nathaniel still wasn’t used to Chloé’s kiss—her real kiss. The kiss that was only shared with him behind closed doors in the intimacy of private spaces. The kiss that felt like a dance with fire itself and left him breathless every time.
She was absolute rapture thinly contained in a work of art.
The whispered words were out of his mouth before his thoughts could even place them. “I love you.”
“Good,” she whispered back. Her forehead rested against his, fingers steadily combing back his hair. “Because I love you too.”
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
WIP Titles
rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how nondescriptive or ridiculous! send me an ask with the title(s) that most intrigues or interests you and I’ll post a snippet of it or tell you something about it!
Tagged by @schnoogles thank you!!
1. My Love is Forever
2. Hogwarts au
3. Older!Jon au
4. Wearing your t-shirt on the couch
5. Sex and Candy
6. Pining roomates in quarantine
7. Baby we're wrong, baby it's the last time
8. Stable boy!Jon / Highborn!Sansa
9. Don't leave me high and dry
10. You bring the storm
11. Mafia au
12. Model!Sansa au
13. Celebrity Jonsa fake date but it's not so fake
14. Stranded on a deserted island while being fools in love
I have no idea who has been tagged so
@kitkatelyn @man-in-yell0w @amymxrches @vivilove-jonsa @notbloodraven @estherruth-jonsatrash @periwinkle39
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
14 or 15, and 18!
14. (For authors) Post a line of dialogue from one of your WIPs without context.
“Yeah, see, I think you misread the situation, darlin’. You ain’t in charge of this house right now.”
15. Post the last line you wrote without context.
A little more than a line, haha, but I wrote this today!
“You’d look good in an office,” she hums, and Rio pops an eyebrow at her, amused, and just - - she can see it, that’s all. Him in that awful shirt Emma had picked out, standing in a boardroom or behind a desk, presenting in meetings, his big hands making shadows through clean projector light, pointing at graphs, pie charts, dense lines of statistics. It’s enough to make something hot sprawl languid through her, and it’s weird, how much the image just sort of does it for her. Less weird is how quickly Rio seems to pick up on it.
“Oh, you wanna play it that way, mama?” he asks, leaning across the crepe paper decorations, voice low beneath whatever Katy Perry song is playing. “Want to catch me lookin’ over filing cabinets? Want me to call you into my office?”
He moves just a little closer again, enough she can feel his hot breath against the shell of her ear, and she shivers even before he adds: “Bend you over my desk?”
“My office,” Beth sniffs, ready for him, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips before she can even help it. She looks at him, catches his dark eyes looking at her breasts, so adds: “My desk,” just to make his gaze snap up.
18. Do you have a fic reading/writing routine?
Answered here!
Fanfic asks
#fic asks#welcome to my ama#what the sea wants the sea will have#the center and circumference#audreydear
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
The hollow heart outline that I can’t replicate on my phone for Kolyat and Oriana.
Ship Asks:
Anon, @ferociousqueak and @kxnways: putting everything you’ve asked in one post to keep it tidy, since it’s all about Kol and Ori and their dynamic.
(Some answers are NSFW, just a heads up.)
♡: who is the bigger romantic openly? Secretly?
Neither, to be honest- their romance seems very understated and even incompatible on the outside, but there is a strong devotion there.
I remember I filled in their ‘love language’ quiz awhile back, and it still applies. Oriana’s is Acts of Service, which sounds terribly demanding but boils down to: “actions speak louder than words.”
She might have told him she loved him first, but Ori already knew Kolyat’s feelings. He expressed them in his own quiet way: folding her clothes, making dinner, tucking her hair back, picking up the juice she likes without prompting, helping her with her Gala prep, etc. Small things done often without being asked.
Kolyat is Quality Time: his romance and love is a secret, precious thing he is reluctant to share with the rest of the universe. He wants dedicated time with Ori without distractions; just her and him (and the cat) safe in the quiet space of his apartment.
It’s why I paint them a lot in it, really. Writing them talking is annoying interesting as the truth only comes out when the pair of them are alone and away from the view of others, but there’s only so much pillowtalk I can write…
2. Who’s the one to send the other “I love my gf/bf” memes
Neither! Ori sends the 2190s equivalent of bored Snapchat selfies, which she has to send by email as Kolyat refuses to have the app installed on his omni-tool.
I painted this with that in mind:
Kolyat will sometimes open them at work, if he has time.
7. Is their friends/family supportive
Eventually for both. Miranda is perplexed why an asocial C-Sec detective whose dad (“a strange man”) she worked with does it for her sister, but once she understands they’re quietly devoted to each other, is happy for them. I still think she checked into Kol’s history though, read all his files and reports. She’s a good info-broker!
Kolyat hardly speaks to his aunts and uncles back on Kahje, but they knew he would end up with an alien. “At least it isn’t an asari” was the slightly racist answer when he eventually explains his choice of life partner.
Introducing Oriana to the C-Sec squad is something I’ve yet to write but happens in Sirens & Selkies, and goes about as well as expected when you’re introducing your girlfriend to Bats T’Lori…
8. How does one comfort the other when the other is in distress/having a panic attack/crying
WIP relevant, I’ve written a few scenes of this. Ori’s panic attacks are restrictive to her, and she doesn’t want to be touched:
She flinched just enough for me to get the hint and leave her alone. All I could see was her profile when I moved away, a strange blossom of red across the dip of her throat where her frill would start if she was drell.
I didn’t know if it was a souvenir from our previous good night, or the result of the rising sea of her anxiety. “It’s noise from construction,” I said, unsure what to do. “Controlled explosions.”
She was staring at nothing again, but there was only so much I could do. Fish was still missing; I checked under the bed. the only spot I could think of. A pitiful yowl came from the darkness, to my relief.
Ori needs a private space to deal with it before she can face him, the bathroom is a favourite, In turn she is the: “I will help find an answer” practical sort of comfort when he is dealing with things, and will give a list of solutions.
She’s a listener and very empathetic of course, but there’s a sense she has try to help fix something- this can chafe, as Kolyat can be stubborn.
9. Which one dissociates
Kolyat, for obvious memory recollection reasons, and he’ll get a gentle chin poke if she wants his attention. Ori knows when he’s lost in them now, but sometimes she gets it wrong. He could be thinking about the burrito vending machine and she’ll still ask if he’s okay; Kolyat can look pensive even when he’s content.
10. Which one stares at the other’s booty like “damn” and how does the other react when catching them
Kolyat, but I write through his eyes- but Ori can be forward too. Again, WIP relevant:
We were past the point of no return, but I still tried to sooth over the cracks. “A priest can look at the sea, you know. Sometimes I look twice to remember.”
The idiom confused her, a rarity. “You’re not as subtle as you think with that. I catch you staring at odd things, but I suppose you would.”
Ori tugged at her shirt to reveal a shoulder, a bare collarbone on show. She did it to make a point, but like I fool I proved it for her. “Maybe I want you to notice that I am looking,” I said, reaching for her. “Have you thought of that?”
She draped her hands over my neck, a loose grip. “But you still wait for me to make the first move,” she said, leaning closer to me. “You always do.”
I wondered if there was some truth to it, if I had fallen into an old tradition, at least for a drell. Her hands wandered down to the edge of my undersuit, fingers skirting the opening of my zipper; a woman is forward, a man waits. They were gender roles that had existed for centuries, and it annoyed me I played at them still.
14. Which one rolls over in the morning to wake up the other one just to give kiss them
Ori is the cheerful morning person! Kolyat can and will get up at ass o’clock for work, but on his days off you best believe he’s shoving the pillow over his face and cursing the Gods and what is wrong with you, it’s 6am-
21. What is their song? Like the song that gives them overwhelming feelings?
As their writer I have several, but they don’t have one- yet. Ori will remember, though. She’s a ‘soundtrack to your life’ kind of person; the sounds of Shin Akiba’s amusement arcade will remind her of their first date, the song they danced to at the C-Sec ball, etc.
28. Are either of them mentally ill, if so how do they help one another cope
Answered in 8, Ori’s anxiety is pretty bad. When I started writing them I didn’t realise just how rough she had it- Sanctuary was awful, and she was kidnapped and held there against her will for months.
Kolyat of course has his own PTSD from the war and his childhood, but despite his own issues, is oddly better at handling them- at least now, young Kolyat not so much.
The memories come, he lets them pass, then sends them on their way. The problem comes when he doesn’t do anything about them and broods (of course he broods.) Usually he’ll allow himself a Gods damn curse/woe is me, then move on to the task at hand. (Solving a case!)
Their coping mechanisms aren’t that healthy (“let’s throw ourselves at work!”) just yet, but they both agree the past does not define them- eyes forward, never back.
35. What be they kinks and do they try each other’s kinks
NSFW time! I think xenophilia is top of their kink list, but I’m so sorry, they’re very vanilla despite the alien difference.
They fuck on the regular to the point I consider using the water spray to calm them down when I put them in a room together, but it all never go past the “silk tie” stage.
Their actual kinks are:
He likes her in skirts and dresses that show of her collarbone/neck and legs, and likes it when she leaves her heels on; makes it easy for standing sex.
He likes to see her get off, and is very diligent about it before she even can return the favour. Kol will brood if she’s just along for the ride and can’t get off, a classy reaction.
She has a thing about sex outside their bedroom, and gets very handsy when drunk if she thinks no one is looking. Kolyat has to straddle the line of knowing what the Citadel public indecency laws are and thinking with his dick.
Speaking of, Kol loves head. When I write him he can be fucking blatant with this, it annoys me.
There’s a reason he’s a mess, it’s Ori’s ego. She got it into her head he was deprived of something, that drell (thanks to their throat muscles and vocal cords) were “better” than humans at the act, so she wanted to prove she was good at it too. I’ve yet to write it as that, mainly because they’re idiots who need the water spray.
Ori’s in charge of the bedroom. Their sexual dynamic usually has her define the: when, where and how. Not in the BDSM sense, but in the “I want to get off on top” sense. He in turn loves her enthusiasm and desire, all that attention on him.
They’re fucking awful at sexy space Skype, especially when Ori is working on a colony. Emails and calls without visuals are oddly better for her- she has gotten off with him recalling specific memories, for example. He appreciates the sexy selfies, and being told in very explicit terms that she wants him.
Ori goes through a stage of wanting to try things, some gets immediately vetoed by Kol. No to the handcuffs, he doesn’t want a work item associated with sex; okay fine we can try butt stuff for you, not me; I am not wearing that, Ori why-
42. How would one react if the other was to die
Tonal whiplash compared to the last question, holy shit. They grieve a long time, but I know Ori moves on eventually and remarries after his death. Kolyat takes longer to cope if she goes first, but is thankful for his children (and eventual grandchildren) to help shoulder the burden.
43. Who dies first
Kolyat, heart attack in his 90s. He dies in his garden surrounded by his cats, on the colony of their “summer” home.
44. Do they want kids
Eventually, but nowhere near the stage I’m currently writing them at. Their 20s is largely them working things out before they inflict their versions of parenting on to children.
45. How would they spend their last moments together
They would go out fighting, and try to be side by side if the Reapers returned. I am not sure what their last conversation would be, other than a frenzied comfort.
Phew, at the end! Questions taken from two places:
Send A Ship And A Heart And I’ll Tell You…
not Basic Ship Ask Games
Thank you very much for your questions.
#asks and prompts#kolyat krios#oriana lawson#shretl#kxnways#anonymous#ferocioussqueak#this took a long time to answer#aaaaaaa
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
wip challenge
Challenge: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. I was tagged by @unfortunateshape
In the order in which I last modified them (skipping the notes files):
1. enkindled spring
2. delayed gratification
3. fight
4. random ideas - Endeavour
5. eventually the birds must land
6. fruits and sounds
7. sonnet (nightvale au)
8. random ideas - Shetland
9. random ideas - Lewis
10. cambridge
11. fic memes
12. overture
13. my object in inquiring is to know
14. wonderful tonight
15. grantchester
16. J’s hair
17. down among the fearful
18. coming back here
19. sometimes
20. post expiation
21. temporary accommodation
22. holiday party -fancy dress
23. over the edge
24. less self-restraint
25. home movies
26. the shirt
27. pangalactic gargleblaster
28. kissing strangers
29. very much a James
30. after Spain
31. emerald
32. did you just bow to her?
33. equine nine
34. all told #3
35. time travel
36. view
37. of all the gin joints
38. self-indulgent James angst
Tagging: @vita-s-west, @lucyemers, @daisyfornost, @mcgstarroar, @bryndeavour, @jameshathaways, @thetimemoves, @ancientreader and anyone else who sees this and wants to play. (pretty sure some of you have been tagged before, but :shrug:)
#fic meme#wip meme#there are actually more but i think that's a good place to stop#that's more wips than fics i've finished in the past three years#although i do have definite plans to finish three of them by mid may#probably i'll come up with at least three new ideas in that time as well#ask away if you want to know what any of them are#or guess even that would be amusing#i didn't even remember some of them
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
do i .... do i honestly see a "death note" fic in this wips list ... i gotta know - love, not enamored anon
hello judgemental anon listen ok this is a file of forgotten fics okay let me LIVE
also fandom knows no shame and has no sense of time passing do you not know this? this death note fic will sit in my gdocs until i die. it’s collecting dust. it’s a relic of a bygone era and a beacon. it exists outside of time and space. its behind the cut and its the cryptid of my wips. i want to believe
(*x files theme song plays*)
A note about Yagami Light: he slouches only when he is being watched.
Alone, his back is ramrod straight at all hours of the day, his shoulders pulled cruelly into the sort of line that speaks of militant control. It is only when he becomes aware of being observed that he carefully curls them toward himself, pronounces it more in the evening and smiles tiredly at assertions of, “You look beat, Light.”
Once in a while he slips, when his focus narrows to a single point or he’s especially distracted, and there’s a moment - a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment - when his body is one unbendable, unbreakable line.
A note about L: he never blinks. It follows that he never misses one of these moments; he only files them away for later.
Sleep, too, eludes him. Sometimes he will slip into the dark void of complete unconsciousness for an hour or two and then slam back awake, shuddering with the notion that he’d been just about to put something together.
Then, of course, he puts something together. Light says the chain chafes his wrist but doesn’t offer any further complaints on it.
After two days of the chain, a problem becomes apparent: Light sleeps.
More specifically, Light talks in his sleep.
Most specifically, Light talks about L.
The talking never reveals enough information to form any sort of theory, just small huffs of breath and the occasional half-murmur of L’s name, but it sends L careening toward a question so dangerous it stops the blood in his chest.
If he fell asleep, what would he say? Would he put some deep, vulnerable part of himself straight into the hands of the most prolific serial killer in human history without even knowing it? Would he speak his own name? Would he speak Light’s name?
And further, what is Light dreaming about?
L has never put stock in dream psychology. It is a soft subset of a soft science, and consists mostly of conjecture and wanking, both of which L abandoned years ago.
Which, of course, makes his burning curiosity all the more concerning.
A note about curiosity: L cannot recall the last time he was burningly curious about anything. Mildly so, yes. Detached interest, yes. But true, consuming, burning curiosity? An outlier so far outside L’s observable universe it is almost entirely alien.
Yagami Light, too, is such an outlier. It stands to reason, then, that his alien curiosity would be regarding Yagami Light.
He resolves to let it go for now, but spends a disturbing amount of free time devoting his curiosity to it.
On the 5th night chained together, L still has not slept, and his body is approaching its limit. Light, outlier that he is, notices.
“Ryuzaki,” Light says, and L feels that foreign pang of disappointment exclusive to Light using his alias, “You need to sleep.”
L waves him off. If he sleeps now, he will shut off for approximately 12 hours, which is not at all acceptable until he’s solved the case. If he sleeps now he will lose approximately 12 hours of surveillance, anywhere from 2 to 12 Kira killings depending on who is currently occupying Kira’s frustratingly nebulous power, at least 14 servings of strawberry cake, and no less than three instances of Yagami Light stretching enough for his shirt to ride up.
L dwells uncomfortably on that last thought for a moment and then shakes his head.
He’s not thinking clearly.
Light says, “You’re not thinking clearly. You’re exhausted.”
L resists the urge to stick his tongue out at him and adjusts in his chair.
A note about identities: L has never gone this long in the presence of another human, and so has never had to keep up the exaggerated charade of his own identity for such an extended period of time before. It is unexpectedly exhausting.
His back hurts. He wants to stretch out and sleep.
Light pokes him with a metaphorical stick.
“You’re not going to be any help if your brain doesn’t work, you know.”
It is a testament to L’s exhaustion that he doesn’t argue. He simply shuffles out of the room and drags Light behind him to go make himself a pot of coffee.
“This isn’t coffee, Ryuzaki,” Light laughs, sticking his finger into L’s cup. “This is engine sludge.”
A note about Light: he has been different since the end of his solitary confinement - freer, somehow. More…innocent. He laughs more, jokes more. It is almost as if he is a different person. He even seems to approach flirting, sometimes.
Light takes his finger out of L’s cup and sticks it in his mouth. L stares.
“Sludge and sugar,” Light amends.
L blinks and takes a sip of his coffee. It tastes sweeter than before, and raises all sorts of awful questions about the specific taste of Light’s skin.
A note about L: there is a 75 - no - 78.9 percent chance that he is slightly sexually attracted to Yagami Light. Which is a problem.
Contrary to popular opinion, L is not clueless about sex. In fact, he enjoys it very much when it benefits him, and has found he’s rather good at it.
The problem, of course, is that this is not the time or person, and also that the likelihood that Light feels the same is under 12 percent.
So he drinks his coffee in silence until Light says, “Come here, Ryuzaki.”
L’s stomach does something awful and he pauses with the cup halfway to his lips. Light smiles, and it’s so honest and sincere that it scares the shit out of L.
What are you doing, Light?
“What are you doing, Light?”
Light leans against the counter and tilts his head. He must know what this position does to his body, and his legs are far too long, and L has no control over his own thought processes and suddenly realizes how desperately he needs to sleep -
“I’m just gonna crack your back for you. It’ll help, trust me.” There’s that smile again. Different than before, so different that it almost makes L believe it.
“Why?”
Light huffs and says, “Because you’re going to cripple yourself crouching like that all day.”
Why do you care?
“Hm.”
“Come here and cross your hands over your chest.”
Is this how L dies? He sees four distinct possibilities: Light cutting his throat from behind him, Light smashing his head into the counter, Light slipping something thin and sharp around his throat and pulling, Light sinking a knife into his back -
No. No, if Light wanted to kill him with his hands, he would have done it already.
Yagami Light is Kira. He is 89.8 percent sure of this fact. Kira wants L dead. He is 100% sure of this fact. The only reason he is not dead is because Kira does not have his name. He is 100% sure of this fact.
L wants Kira dead. He is … 89.8 percent sure of this fact.
Only 89.8 percent? Why -
“Ryuzaki, stop thinking. It’s giving me a headache.”
I want to hear you say my name, L thinks, and immediately regrets it.
“I’m not able to do that, Light-kun.”
Light grins and says softly, under his breath, “I bet I could help,” and then raises his voice again to say, “For god’s sake, just come over here.”
“No,” L says stubbornly. “This is a perfect opportunity for you to kill me.”
Light rolls his eyes and sighs deeply, which is … not what L expects.
“You know we’re being surveilled, right?”
“I doubt it matters to Kira-kun. My name is the only one he does not know.” L takes another sip of his coffee. “After I’ve been eliminated it will be easy to deal with the rest.”
“Fine,” Light says, looking genuinely annoyed, and throws up his hands. “Fucking suffer forever, you idiot.”
L has never seen Light curse before. It is horribly, viscerally arresting. He wants him to do it again. He wants to make him do it again.
Light immediately puts his head in his hands and says, “Sorry. I’m really tired.”
L feels a stab of genuine guilt. In his refusal to sleep over the past 5 days, he’s forced Light to sleep in the rolling chair next to his computer, or on the floor, or sometimes slumped over the desk.
In a moment of utter insanity, L walks over to where Light is leaning against the kitchen counter and crosses his arms over his chest.
Light raises his eyebrows and looks like he’s trying not to smile.
“You have to turn around, Ryuzaki.”
L hesitates. It sets off approximately 800 alarm bells in his head to turn his back to Light. It feels … wrong. Dangerous.
Exciting.
L turns his back. It thrills him all the way to his toes, so close to unbearable he can almost feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Light’s voice is far too close when he speaks, and L cannot see him, and three new scenarios flood his mind at once: Light could snap his neck with his hands - but that would require an inhuman amount of speed and strength and is far less common than it is depicted in movies, not to mention it doesn’t seem like Light’s style. Light could choke him to death, fairly easily as the way he’s leaned on the counter gives him the perfect leverage, and the thought makes L’s toes curl in a way that is decidedly unscientific.
The third possibility evacuates his head the second Light touches him, along with an alarming amount of his other thoughts.
Light wraps his arms all the way around L and leans back a little, whispers straight into his ear,
“Relax, Ryuzaki.”
Impossible. L can hardly breathe.
Something snaps like a branch and then three or four little cracks follow in very quick succession, and suddenly L feels his legs turning to liquid. It hurts.
“There we go.”
Light stops touching him and L immediately grips the counter top, spits out, “Kira.”
Light laughs, then stops. He stares at L with wide eyes. Was he always so short?
What is he looking-
“You, uh, you’re standing up straight now.”
So he is. He takes stock of his body: he can feel all his toes and fingers. That’s new.
Light’s cheeks are pink. That’s new as well.
L is possessed by a new burning question: Does this fluster Light because of L’s sudden height advantage? Does he feel angry at the possibility that L could be physically imposing? Or -
L steps very close to Light until Light’s back is pressed against the counter top.
“What are you doing, Ryuzaki?”
“Testing a theory.”
A note about physical arousal: it is nearly indistinguishable from fear in its physiological processes.
“What theory is that?”
L sees no reason to lie. “Whether you are afraid of me -”
“I’m not afraid of you, you absolute idiot -”
“Or whether you want to have sex.”
Light’s eyes get very wide. They are nearly exactly the same color as the honey L sometimes puts on his fruit bowls.
“With you?”
“Yes.”
He puts his hand around Light’s wrist and notes that his heart rate is nearly double his normal baseline. Pupils: dilated. Cheeks: flushed. L finds that he likes this sudden height advantage very much.
“In case you are wondering,” L murmurs, and he must be delirious from exhaustion if he’s doing this, “the likelihood that you find me sexually attractive is just over 56 percent.” A significant jump from 12. He looks at Light’s mouth to see if he mirrors it - he does. “62 percent.”
#anon ask#wip meme#death note#wow i haven't tagged anything as that in...... *takes long drag on pipe*
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
1, 3, 5, 9, 12, 13, 14, 18, 19, 21, 23, 24, 25, and 28 for the end of the year asks, if it's not too many! (which it probably is but I'm nosy so 😂)
I love seeing your name in my Ask Box, kiddo. It makes me smile SO HARD.
fanfic end of the year asks
1. favorite fic you wrote this yearI really had fun writing Snowstorms and Sled Races! Batfam shenanigans are so entertaining.
3. favorite line/scene you wrote this yearThe moment Jason hits a home run in a softball game he joins last-minute one night. I have a major headcanon that Jason would be an amazing baseball player, so this fic was fun to write.
Tim watched the celebration from his spot at the cafe, grinning to himself. He stopped recording after Jason crossed home plate, saving the file in a secure folder on his phone for later. He wouldn’t have believed it had he not seen in with his own two eyes. Jason, someone he just realized he didn’t actually know that well, wearing a t-shirt that had seen better days instead of armor and a leather jacket, hitting home runs and laughing. Add the backwards baseball cap and a shock of his unruly black hair jutting out the front, and Jason looked so much younger. He looked like someone his age should look- relaxed and happy.
5. most popular fic this yearAnswered here.
9. longest wip of the yearUntil I Have Nothing Left. It’s 46k words and less than half-finished. :)12.favorite character to write about this yearI really, really enjoyed writing more from Alfred’s perspective this year.13. favorite writing song/artist/album of this yearÓlafur Arnalds. He’s an Icelandic musician who makes exceptional music that’s perfect for writing.14. a fic you didn’t expect to writeOutrunning Karma. I was absolutely floored when you asked if I wanted to write with you!!18. current number of wipsI think it’s roughly 5-6. That includes the Young Justice stuff I want to get back to.19. any new fics to start next yearI don’t have anything new planned because I want to finish some prompts in my Ask box and continue with my Jason Todd fic.21. most memorable comment/reviewThere have been a few with just sentence fragments and irregular capitalization, and I can tell the reader was freaking out a bit. Reviews like that make me happy because I know that feeling and I love that I can make people feel things. 23. fics you wanted to write but didn’tSome amazing AU that takes canon, shoves it in a rocket and blasts it into space. But I don’t have the guts to start one.24. favorite fic you read this yearIt seems like a cop-out, but I honestly can’t pick just one.25. a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone readSee this post here. 28. longest fic you read this year
It’s called Jason Todd: The Not-So-Outlaw by GoAwayOlivia and only click that link if you’re prepared to lose yourself for about a week. :)
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
WIP Tag Game
Tagged by @wolfjillyjill
The Rules: Here are the names of all the files in my WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me a title of your choosing and I’ll share a snippet or a factoid about the work!
@thessclexa
Not sure if this what you meant, but this what I’m working on, or what is driving me crazy.
~ My Destiny in a Green Flannel Shirt (Chapter 14)
Lexa heard the log hit the water with a concussive force of what seemed like an explosion, taking a quick look back and saw it bearing towards her.
~ Soulmates Through Time (I Bare It So They Don’t Have Too) (Chapter 26)
It had been a long couple of weeks after they returned to Polis and Lexa was forced to immediately leave after word of a skirmish between two clans erupted to the north.
~ Belongs to the above series: The Making of a Warrior (Chapter 4)
“Lexxaa.” Her name came out more like a hiss as Clarke shook through another orgasm, courtesy of Lexa’s lovely tongue and mouth.
~ Clarke’s Heat (Strum Me With Your Passion)
Lexa was sure there was some cosmic genie, or maybe her ex, having the last laugh at her while being hauled to jail and after they returned from Hawaii, rested, tan and well-loved when the universe decided to fuck with her relationship with Clarke.
~ Possible...Xena/Lexa Crossover (no name)
Lexa couldn't see anything. Or feel anything for that matter. Not the pain in her stomach from the bullet or Clarke's presence at her side as she lay dying.
~ Give Me a Reason
It was only her second time meeting Clarke, the artist, or date Lexa privately called it, and met at a party a week before, invited her over to ‘sketch’ her likeness.
~ The Chauffeur (Take Two)
Lexa hauled the last bit of luggage to their bedroom. It was a Friday, the day before the trip to Hawaii, finally. Lexa was humming along with Isreal IZ, Somewhere Over The Rainbow ever since Clarke started to learn how to play the ukelele.
~ The First Year (Possible sequel to STT)
Baby Olivia's eyes popped open and wandered around the crib. Her bed for the past few months. She couldn't quite see and blinked her eyes and was only aware of a few things at this early stage. One was sounds in her ears. Comforting, soothing murmurings that made her smile and move to the voice's encouragement. Her face would be covered in soft lips and then tucked near warmth and start to feel liquid in her mouth and began to naturally suck.
Tagging any writer who’d like to play along.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
wip ask
Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
i was tagged by @fab-wolf-in-the-gloom and im not gonna tag anyone im lazy fr
fics
fall inn love cringe romcom au rewrite thing
11th hour rewrite
but i think it's finally safe for me to fall
keep the faith, keep the faith
dont quit ianbarbara moment
clarose gay so what if im wasted
back on the run, back to the blue
the day you dyed your hair
style fic cause cringe
MAMMA MIA AU BITCHES
if you came back, it'd just be me and you
come on, won't you come to me now
true trans soul rebel pt 2
i know we only just met (so why do i feel invested?)
it's worth more than you are thinking (don't be a fool)
monsters are back again lol
what the fuck why is this ficlet so sad
angsty clarose but it's also horny ?
you're a mystery to me some days (that's what keeps me sane)
rose woke
nouns moment
24 years in the gutter again (im losing it) (insane bad wolf moment included !!)
im bringing back the term timetots with twelverose, apparently
motorcycle moment
unconditional (im so afraid of losing your love)
whyd i do this
this beats made for two
oh god they're gay
i'm ready to die holding your hand
hockey au
im not scared, no im not
percabeth angst fic
it's nice to have a friend (poly annabeth moment ?)
PJO SNIPPITS
give it away, give em a taste, you got nothing to lose
bitter if you walk away, sweeter if you stay
save me til the party is over
need to write
quarentine fic
all too fuckin well ???
donny dark au
band au snippits
random bits
cowboy au
cause when you get turned on i cant turn you off (horny moment)
3?. in a pair of oh my blue eyes
still chasin dreams, still shootin at stars
girl you wear reckless so damn good
10. ropin pen
6. something about a truck
7. baby im drunk (and i dont wanna go home)
3?. one of them girls
5. broncin'
yeah im such a fool for her
you're like a highway to a rebel that's ready to run
18. shotgun rider
17. t-shirt
15. get to you
16. lonely if you are
14. what cowboys do
8. the house that built me
good together
kinfolks
sunrise sunburn sunset
10. 19 you + me
13. leave the night on
12. he's an outlaw bucker
i've got to be a rodeo man
20. put a label on it
yeah you hit me catagory 5 wiith your smile
bonus: im your buckaroo i wanna be like you
then theres another whole ass series i have planned out chapter by chapter and im really not gonna list those but just know its a lot
#THERES SO MANY#almost all of these have like. a single paragraph written#that i refuse to give up on#maybe one day they'll be complete#vincent rambles#vincent writes#.txt
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
emjaybird-blog
Because yesterday, you said tomorrow .
s117rartblog
The Art of Sierra117renner
justinviewss
Untitled