gonna post a WIP Wednesday (not on Wednesday but I get a pass because I said so) because I haven't in a while and I'm actually excited to be working on this specific wip BUT:

@dizzy-n-busy has this amazing Milo art that they gave me permission to write an au off of. So here is a snippet of that cause I can't remember the last time I was this excited to write something.

Milo sidled up to the bar, perching on one of the stools as the bartender approached. “Gin, neat, would’ya Vincent?” “Of course,” Vincent said, giving him a small smile. It wasn’t like Milo’s order had changed much since he started coming here. “I’ll get that right up.” Milo glanced back at his table, watching as Asher continued to animately fight with David about something stupid. He couldn’t even remember what the original argument was about at this point. He scoffed, rolling his eyes. They always got like this. “Gin on the rocks,” a voice said near him, and Milo looked over to see damn near the prettiest person he’s seen in a while. “Anything for you, hun,” the second bartender said, whom they all call Volts because of their power before getting turned, while giving them a teasing smile. “You’re pretty late. I was starting to think I wouldn’t see you tonight.” “Case got me in the office late,” The person said. “Here you go, Milo,” Vincent said, sliding a glass in front of him.  “Hey, hey, before you go,” Milo started, motioning to the stranger a few stools down from him, “who’s that? I haven’t seen them before.” “Who, Sneaks?” Vincent asks. “They usually come in before you lot do. Listen, I wouldn’t-” There was a shout from the other side of the bar, the person waving Vincent over once they had his attention. Vincent turned back to him, hiding the slight frown that etched into his face from the patron. “I’ll be back.” He slipped off, and Milo made his move. Volts was just sliding the glass to this ‘Sneaks’ when Milo came up. “Person of taste, I see,” he commented, grinning at them. Sneaks regarded him for a moment, only to glance back at Volts. Volts only shrugged before slinking off with a coy smile. “What’s it to you, exactly?” “It doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to,” Milo said, sitting down, a stool in between them. Milo may have ulterior motives for this chat, but he wasn’t about to scare the pretty thing away. “Just friendly conversation.” “Why do I have a feeling it’s never just friendly conversation with you?” The stranger commented, raising an eyebrow before they took a sip from their drink. “Do you want it to be more than friendly?” Milo asked, lip turning up into a smirk. Sneaks didn’t answer, rolling their eyes. “Name’s Milo,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand. The stranger regarded it for a moment before reaching out to meet him.  “People call me Sneak’s,” They replied.  “You sure do like the mysterious aesthetic, huh, Sweetheart,” Milo teased.  “You got a problem with that?” Sneaks asked. “Not at all,” Milo said genuinely, bringing their hand up to kiss it. “Makes me more curious to get to know you, even.” “Yeah. Sure,” Sneak said, pulling their hand away.  “I’m serious,” Milo insisted. “I’m sure you are,” Sneaks said. “You don’t believe me,” Milo said, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Sneaks said, eyes trained on the glass in their hand, “just that you’re not the first to try. You’re either going to forget about me or not see me enough to properly pursue me.” “As if I could forget a cute face like yours,” Milo said. “I’d sooner be haunted by it than forget. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not like other guys.” Sneaks let out a humourless laugh. “Yeah, okay, toots.”

intro/outro song tag game

thank you so much @veneritia for tagging me, i literally saw this tag game and gasped when you pinged for this.

rules: if your current WIP were a show (animated, live-action, etc.) then what songs would be played during the intro and outro/credit sequences?

for knights ; the intro would definitely be ' glory ' by the score and the outro would be either ' eyes roll ' by (g)i-dle or ' march ' by seventeen

for kill your darlings ; i tossed up with the intro but decided on ' house of cards ' by bts because you can't go wrong with classics and ' devil's advocate ' by the neighbourhood for the outro

tagging: @lexiklecksi, @serpentarii, @seasteading, @helioselene, @atelierwriting

I'm on my Colm and Marie shit again

happy wip wednesday my loves! i was tagged by @lovelylonerliterature to share, so here’s some sam/darlin sickfic comfort bc i’m sick and hate everything rn lol

tagging @sealriously-sealrious, @thesunandmoons-blog, and anyone else who wants to participate! (no pressure obv)

cw: male darlin, he/him darlin, sick character

It happened literally every year without fail. He didn’t know why he was surprised. Hell, Asher had even texted him a few days ago asking if it had happened yet. Tank was gonna blame this on him, he decided. He was gonna say some bullshit about how Ash jinxed him. Or, he would. If he was willing to admit that he was sick.

He forced himself up and out of bed. It took more effort than usual, which was saying a lot. If there wasn’t some kind of threat present forcing him awake, Tank struggled to get up in the mornings. He often pinned it on his nocturnal nature as a wolf, but considering David was just as much a wolf as he was and was still a fucking morning person, the argument didn’t really hold much water.

Water. That would clear up the soreness, no problem. Tank was sure that as soon as he hydrated a bit, he’d feel just as good as always. This was just his body protesting against being dehydrated, he was certain of it. He was almost able to convince himself that this was the case. He made his way to the kitchen, ignoring the way his bones shuddered at the uncharacteristic cold of the house, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He shook the bottle as he always did, then twisted the cap off and drank about half the contents at once. His throat was blissfully numb for a moment.

Then the soreness came back. It felt like he had swallowed sawdust. His throat felt scraped and rough and bad. He wasn’t sick, though. He couldn’t be sick. He didn’t have time for that. Ever since the… incident last year, Shaw Security had been understaffed. He wasn’t going to put David in a bind just because his throat was a little scratchy.

He coughed, rough and chest-deep, and couldn’t stop until long after he had run out of air in his lungs. Leaning against the counter, he forced himself to breathe deep, ignoring the overwhelming urge to hack his lungs out. He was fine. Allergies. It was his allergies.

(Never mind that he didn’t have allergies, or that it was almost December. That was neither here nor there.)

He was going to go to work, do his job, and then come home like always. He was not sick.

After all, if he ignored it, it would go away. Right?

protect and push away - wip

“the great protector, is that what you’re supposed to be?”

~

those words echoed in cuties mind over and over again. that’s what they were raised to be, wasn’t it? protect the bad thoughts from coming up and on the off-chance they did, immediately push them away lest they proliferate. if that was the case, why did everyone push them away when they did just that?

cutie was raised to believe their abilities were good. that when used correctly, they can be used to help the people around them. their pushy nature they were always reminded of in past relationships and friendships left them to be the person walking on the grass as others walked on the sidewalk. but geordi didn’t do that. geordi cared for them and loved them despite their clingy nature that they were often ostracized by their friends over. so they had to return the favour to him the best way they knew how. they had to stay inside. they had to ensure geordi never felt anything bad. cutie never wanted geordi to feel any of the bad feelings they had in the past. but even with their good intentions, why did it feel like they were doing something wrong?

~

“am i meant to understand my faults? i don’t think so. i don’t think i’m meant to understand myself. maybe you do, and that’s good for you. maybe in time, maybe one day, i’ll do the same.”

bap bap, heres a wip! cause. i want to. asher/babe fluff, cause i can. my ao3 is epsi_l0n and i’m- probably gonna get this finished today, i love them sm <3

-

“Baaaaabe, have you seen my wallet?” Babe chuckled at the way he dragged out the pet name. “Uh, did you check near the front door where it always is?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t- wait, nevermind! Found it!”

“Where was it?”

“Uh….it was in my jean pocket.”

“Of course it was, dumbass. What do you need it for, anyway?”

“It’s a surprise, babe.” He walked over to them, and kissed them on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon, okay?” they wrapped their arms around him, and gave him a quick hug, “okay, but don’t keep me waiting long, I wanna watch a movie with you later.” Asher just smiled, kissed them on the cheek, and walked out the front door.

Wow! I'm really invested in this.

Anyways, here's a tidbit from the victorian AU fic. It doesn't have David, but I just wrote his introduction into the story 👀

---

"Your turn." Vincent said from where he sat to Angel's right. They nodded and looked down at the table, squinting slightly. One of the problems with playing a common card game amongst the noble class, was that Angel didn't really fully grasp how to play. They knew a few of the basics which was how they were still in the game instead of sitting out on the sidelines. Their brow furrowed for a moment as Vincent leaned back in his seat to glance at their cards. Angel scowled at him and he rolled his eyes before tapping one of his cards. They stared for a moment before hesitantly placing down their own cards in the same placement. Vincent smiled and they returned the action with a grateful grin.

They were out in the next round.

W.I.P Whenever!

Tagging: I don't know who's done it and who hasn't so you, reading this!

Story: I'm not a monster, I'm just scared.

Freelancer breaks down during the inversion and turns into a giant monster. After they turn back, they're taken by a corporation. Vega slips in with an offer.

Characters: Freelancer, Vega, Gavin (Mentioned), Lasko (Mentioned), Damien (Mentioned), Huxley (Mentioned), Caelum (Mentioned)

~•|-------------------|•~

Freelancer had always had scars on their body. Now there were more. Their entire body was littered with traces of shocks. Bruises. Cuts. Stabs. They had been poked, prodded, shocked and cut like they were just another piece of meat for god knows now long.

They don't remember the last time they saw Gavin. Or Lasko. Or Damien. Or Huxley. Or even Caelum. They curled up in the corner of their cage, keeping their claws close to their chest. Their ears pointed downwards as a sign of sadness. Black tears dripped from their eyes. Horns and spikes littered their body, patches of slimy frog like skin were put in various places. And their tail curled around them as they silently cried.

Freelancer doesn't know how long they laid there. But they eventually fell silent and still, not even moving when the door to the room containing their cage was opened.

"Well well well... Look who it is..." Freelancer's ears sprung up. They knew that voice.

"Did the ever so strong Freelancer get captured? Oh no!" Freelancer growled at Vega's voice, pushing themself up to face him.

Vega moved towards the cage, towards Freelancer. "Don't growl at me, I'm here for a reason." He stopped just in front of them.

"What do you want." Freelancer's voice was scratchy from underuse. Vega held up his hand, showing a key.

"I'm here to offer you a deal. Let me use your new... Capabilities, so to speak, and I'll set you free." Vega offered.

"Forget it! You'll just try to attack Gavin and Caelum again!" Freelancer yelled, standing up. They made no attempt to move towards Vega, not they could. Around their neck was a collar attached to the side of the cage.

"Hmm. I wouldn't resort to something so petty and ultimately, useless, but suit yourself. I guess you'll just have to stay here, forever a lab rat." Vega spoke, turning around.

Freelancer didn't seem phased. "Gavin and the others will-" Vega stopped them.

"They don't know where this place is. They don't even know if you're still alive. You could die before they get to you. If you don't come with me, you'll never see the outside world again." Freelancer hesitated at Vega's words.

He had a point. They didn't know where this place was. Freelancer took a breath in.

"Fine." They spoke. Vega smirked.

"Good choice."

Ren bby🥺

Twitter saw it first but i post over here too just in case..

rip kim dokja

Figuring out pre-tadpole lobotomy durge design got me actin some sort of way hhHHH

I'm doing a wip Wednesday to keep my motivated for this wips I'm working on because I'm finally on break and theoretically have the time SO up today we actually have two wips:

An update on my Imp!Milo fic I have in my wips (Imp!Milo loses Sweetheart and becomes unrecognizable)

An update on my 1920's Milo/Sweetheart fic I have going on

All below the cut <3

Imp!Milo

Milo’s vision tunnuled. “Where are you?” “West corridor, they have me surrounded, I’m still cloaked so I don’t think they know where I am, but-” The line crackled, then went dead, and Milo looked back at Asher, who was frozen a few feet behind him. “Sweetheart?” Milo asked. Silence. Milo could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his years, and he tried again. “Sweetheart?” The line came alive again, and Milo’s blood ran cold at what he heard. “Don’t you fucking touch him, do you hear me?! I swear to god if you touch a damn hair on his head-!” Sweetheart’s scream was cut off. There was a humourless laugh, deep and dark, that filtered across the walkie. “Looks like we found your little ghostie,” a voice said, the same person who was laughing. “Say goodbye little ghostie.” “Milo don’t fall for it, I’m fine,” Sweetheart tried to reassure him. “I’ll be fine, stay there, promise me that yo-” There was a sickening crack, and the sound of Sweetheart slumping to the floor. Milo didn’t wait any longer, dropping the walkie and taking off at full speed. Asher called after him, but Milo could barely hear it over the rush in his ears. He was shifted into his wolf form in no time. Milo, don’t be rash, Asher’s voice in his head. Again, Milo didn’t listen. He could only repeat Sweetheart’s name in tune with his heart as he raced forward.  Milo, Asher repeated, you need to think this through. Milo growled. Tell me what to do again and I rip you to shreds. My mate is in trouble. Either help me or get lost. Asher didn’t respond, but Milo did hear his pace pick up. Asher pulled up beside him, facing forward. Milo could tell by his stance he’s decided to help him. Whether to keep him from killing himself or because Asher doesn’t want to lose Sweetheart, Milo doesn’t care

2. 1920's Milo/Sweetheart

Sneaks couldn’t focus on anything that weekend, no matter how hard they tried. They had errands to run and were making stupid mistakes the whole time. They meant to get ahead on some of the cases that they had but never could get their mind to focus on what was in front of them. Their last interaction with Milo and his friends played on a loop in their head. “Aww, cheer up, Greer. You know we’re only teasing.” “Greer?” Milo had looked so defensive when they caught on, worry deep in those eyes of his. Sneaks would be too if they were in his shoes. But, this was more than just knowing his father. This was about the fact that Sneaks knew where they heard that name before. There is an ongoing case against Shaw Security. There are plenty of reports of their misconduct, but they were never able to get the suckers. Every investigation led to dead ends where they would have to let the pack member go. Sneaks was kicking themself for not realizing it sooner. David was the Alpha’s son, and Asher was a Talbolt, another family they had been having trouble with. The pieces were there, and they still didn’t put it together. It was almost like they knew, but didn’t want to admit it to themselves. On Monday, they still went through the files, just to make sure. They scoured every offence connected to that pack, heart sinking the more that Milo’s name came up. He was never properly convicted and never had any jail time outside of arrests, but Sneaks couldn’t believe what they were seeing. There were accusations of murder on the papers in front of them. They sighed, rubbing their hands down their face, leaning against the table. Sneaks almost didn’t want to believe it. Milo was just so… there was no way he did what he was accused of, right?

KILL YOUR DARLINGS ; writing snippet ↳ chapter 03. day and night

kyd current wc: 5412 // cw: mentions of death (edit inspo by @oskervos)

From the outside, Jade Citadel is a palace carved in white jade, a tower fit for royalty. But on the inside, layers of levels are carved within the stone, an indestructible fortress of fossil stones. Aurelia has never dared to venture below water level, the dark tunnels below ground claustrophobic and far more ancient than the empire itself.

Death leads her down the stairs like they have done this a thousand times. And they let out a chuckle when they emerge into a cryptesque chamber, saying, “I assume you have never been here before, Gongzhu.” When she doesn’t reply, they beckon her forward, arms stretching out as if they are a presenter. “Welcome to Porcelain Hall, where ancient fallen warriors lay and are remembered for their sacrifice. But I suppose the remembrance part of it is forgotten.”

“This is Porcelain Hall?”

She doesn’t mean for her words to sound mocking, but the look Death gives her sends chills down her spine. Pressing her lips together, she opts to look around the chamber.

Intricate interweaving columns arch up to the ceiling, perfectly polished and stone white. A circular set of stairs sits in the middle, a delicately carved sculpture of a warrior with a fox curled around their ankles sitting on each side to face the middle. Stepping up carefully, Aurelia approaches the tall imposing statue that stands in the landing of the steps, the carving stretches towards the ceiling and depicts a pair of warriors back to back with fossilised briars winding up to bind them together. There is an opening between the two warrior sculptures.

With bated breath, Aurelia takes a few steps forward, and finds herself staring straight into a pond of rainbow water.

“That’s it?”

Death laughs, a nightmarish black mist bursting from within their gown and leaking around to surround the pond in a boiling black liquid. “You seem to have high expectations.”

Aurelia scoffs, crossing her arms to peer into the pond. It shimmers under the glow of the white jade, reflecting a light against the walls. She sees herself in the crystal clear water, a still prism mirror of liquid that ripples at her feather-like touch when she hesitantly skims a finger over the water. It is a warmth that pricks her fingertip, a tingling sensation.

“Tick tock, little princess, you don’t want to be late, do you?” Aurelia catches the faintest trace of a sly smile on Death’s skull, their jaw lifting ever so slightly, just as she feels the sudden push on her back. And she is falling headfirst into the colourful darkness of the pool.

gen tag!! @kazino, @halcionic, @candymillk, @sautrns, @cianawrites, @janaisvu, @ninazeniks, @ambrosiadarling, @perditism, @varkolak, @seasteading, @lasbrumas, @solariumarcade

Ya girl Frenchie had another idea

*record scritching noise* wricka wricka screenshot!!!

WIP Wednesday, tagged by the amazing @sealriously-sealrious <3

this needs a bit of context, so this is before Gavin changed his name while he was still at DAMN taking classes in the Incubus school. i’m playing fast and loose with timelines because fuck it. basically, this is during his final exam for his Preferential Shapeshifting course (the one he hated, where he had to transform to suit another person’s preferences). the volunteer he’s assigned to is Darlin. this is extremely unedited and more in the concept stage than anything, but yeah.

idk who all’s been tagged so far, so this is me tagging everyone who wants to share!

fair warning, darlin’ is he/ him here.

—————

As soon as the blindfold was on his volunteer, he reached out to his mind and read his emotions. Vindemiator’s brow furrowed. This was… different. He spent a solid three minutes trying to find what the shifter wanted, then stopped cold when he found it.

Silently, he pulled his magic away. This had never happened before. He had no idea what to do. What could he do?

“Vindemiator?” his instructor questioned. Vin locked eyes with the succubus.

“I’m already…”

“You’re what?”

“Just… take off his blindfold.”

As the silk was removed from the shifter’s piercing orange eyes, as they bored into Vindemiator’s very soul, he felt a jolt of attraction more pure and genuine than any he had felt from the other volunteers he had worked with. His instructor clearly felt it, too, if the unmitigated shock on her face was any indication.

“Holy shit,” the shifter mumbled, looking Vin up and down slowly. The incubus shivered at the attention to his form, his true form.

“You’re perfect.”

The goodest boy 🐶