#I maybe even have shared versions of this snippet before

[bonesbuckleup]

RULES: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

Like a month ago @a-canceled-stamp tagged me in this (thank you!) but I'm only getting to it now. The last sentences I wrote were all in original fic which I don't really want to share here, so I went and dug up my last fic fic words, which was me poking at a bit of the Like a Hinge sequel (which, yes, I still am picking at, I promise it hasn't been forgotten or abandoned, just...a bit back burnered. As apology here are Several sentences)

The second Dick’s car comes around the bend in the driveway, Jason is on his feet and waiting at the door. Dick knocks, only once, and Jason immediately rips the door open. “Hey Alf,” says Dick. Then, “Wait, hang on. Why’re you—” Jason says, “No solicitors.” “But—” “We don’t want any,” and he slams the door closed. He tries to slam it, anyway. Dick catches it at the last minute and shoves an arm through the gap. “Please, sir, just a moment of your time to talk about our Lord and Savior Superman,” he says, hand pawing through the air as he searches out Jason. “Just a moment, sir, I only need a moment—” “I said we don’t want any,” says Jason, and he throws his whole body weight against the door to try and shut it. Dick wedges more of his shoulder through, reaching blindly until he manages to grab a handful of Jason’s hair and pull. Jason yelps, loses his grip on the door, and Dick comes barreling inside to get him in a headlock. “Say it,” Dick says, “Say you accept Clark Kent into your heart and soul.” “No!” Jason lurches sideways until Dick’s pinned between him and the wall. All the picture frames rattle on impact. “You can’t make me!” “Say it!” "Death first!"

I have no concept for who has been tagged in this, and I ain't counting how many sentences are in here, so I tag everyone who has some stuff they've written and wants to share. Please tag me though so I can read your lovely words!

[hephanna]

hey!! do you have any idea of when you're going to update don't go sharing your devotions (lay all your love on me)?

I don't mean to rush you, I'm sorry to bother you with this but I'm going a little crazy with the waiting and I've kinda lost count of how many times I've read the first chapter by now hahaha

hope you're doing great!! thank you for your writing ❤

Thank you so much for your interest!! I have about 5000 words written so far for the final installment of don't go sharing your devotions (lay all your love on me) so I am hoping to get the last bit written & then edit it within the next couple of days! Thank you so much for your wait, as well, I've been meaning to get to updating, unfortunately I was away from my house for awhile, but now I'm getting back on track ^_^ Here is a little unedited snippet (so I apologize for any errors) of what's to come! (Some good old Charles & Rowland bonding - nothing like talking to yourself from an alternate dimension) SNIPPET:

And speaking of wandering hands and the Edwin in the other dimension… “Hey, isn’t your boyfriend gonna be a bit pissed when he finds out you’ve been snogging someone else in another universe?”

Rowland stared at him in bewilderment. “My boyfriend is Edwin, and I’ve been kissing Edwin. What’s there to be mad about?”

“Maybe because they aren’t the same Edwin?”

Rowland tilted his head. “So, if you met Edwin from another universe, you’d what? Treat him differently?”

Charles twitched, awkwardly drumming his fingers against his trousers, pulled firm over his trembling knees. Would he be able to treat someone who wore Edwin’s face like a stranger? Someone that had the same sharp arch to their eyebrows, the same bright glint in their green eyes, the same smirk when they said something clever? That didn’t settle right in Charles, as if he had swallowed a heavy lump of concrete. Of course, if Edwin, any version of Edwin, stood in front of him Charles would still treat him as his best mate. Would still defend him with everything he had, promise to protect him from the world. Edwin was Edwin was Edwin. And yet...

“That’s different," Charles said sharply, "I’d just be treating him like a best mate not like a… not like a-.”

“Like a lover?” Rowland interrupted. “Okay, that’s your choice. But Edwin is my lover. I love him. He is my beloved. That’s never going to change.”

Charles coughed. Fuck, Rowland was cheesy. He’d never heard himself sound so sappy before. But it was almost sweet, in a way. How obviously in love with Edwin this version of himself was. Lover - beloved - somehow the words expressed more sentiment than boyfriend could ever come close to.

It made Charles feel kind of shite about himself, if he was being honest. This was a Charles that was able to give Edwin everything he desired, who would have heard his confession in Hell – Charles, I’m in love with you – and been able to respond back with a deep kiss and his own whispered confession, instead of Charles’ desperate ‘we’ll sort it out later’ that he had uttered, although he had tried, in his own way, to reassure Edwin that he was the most important person in the world to him.

Still, a part of him couldn’t help but also feel bad for that other Edwin. He was actually shagging Rowland – Charles wasn’t shagging Edwin, and he was admittedly furious about Rowland putting the moves on him. Every version of Edwin Payne, no matter what, deserved the utmost devotion.

“He’s gonna be jealous though, ain’t he? I just think you should be treating him better,” Charles said, crossing his arms and glaring.

Shockingly, Rowland didn’t look at all offended. In fact, he tossed his head back and laughed, bright and happy. “You are me! You actually, literally are me.”

“Huh?”

Rowland let his head relax back against the couch, tilting his head to the side and grinning. “Charles Rowland Instincts 101 – defend Edwin Payne at all costs. You haven’t even met my Edwin yet, and you’re batting for him.”

[roomwithanopenfire]

Six Sentence Sunday

Happy Sunday everyone!! Thanks for the tags @blackberrysummerblog and @artsyunderstudy!!

This week I’ve done the big three: writing, editing, and ignoring my wips, with perhaps a bit more of the last one than I’d like. Most of my writing this week has been for an exchange fic for a different fandom, which I finally finished the rough draft of. Cue the celebration. However, even if I wanted to share anything from that, I can’t, it must remain hush-hush, but I am getting pretty excited to share it (and way more excited about receiving my own exchange fic back, this whole thing is very fun).

I’ve written less than 300 words on my COBB this week, and none of them are good, but I have gotten some editing done of Proof of Life. I can’t share any more snippets of the next chapter though because I’ve shared too much already. So instead, I figured I’d do a bit of a process post this time around, because I always love reading those. Check that out under the cut! (and i'm sorry this is long, i still have not learned brevity)

So my editing process isn’t too crazy, and is brought to you almost entirely by google docs comments. I also use the word ‘editing’ very loosely to encompass rewriting, revising, and proofreading. Sometimes editing means completely rewriting a scene/section, sometimes it just means switching around a couple of words or cleaning up a sentence. 

Mostly, I try not to take everything so seriously, because I know that I could edit something forever and ever and never post it if I let myself get too carried away. So I try to keep everything pretty chill. So here’s my steps I go through for each chapter that I edit. 

Step One: Reread the whole chapter. While I do this, I’ll leave comments on big picture things. “Maybe move this scene into the next chapter” or “The dialogue in this scene feels stilted” but I don’t add a lot of comments at this point. Once I’m done with this I’ll copy over any comments I had on the first draft or the beta reader copy over into the ‘draft two’ document. 

Step Two: COMMENTS. Again, my fics are brought to you by google doc comments. I like to go through from the bottom up, reading scene by scene and leaving comments on pretty much every single sentence. 

A lot of the time (read: most of the time) these are really vague like:

And sometimes these are more detailed like:

And occasionally these are compliments

Step Three: Once the whole chapter is filled with comments, I go through scene by scene (in whatever order speaks to me), and rewrite, edit, or fix sections. This part I find really fun, because I’m taking parts that aren’t good yet and I’m making them better. I love fixing things and getting rid of all the comments. It typically ends up being a lot of  rewriting, but I always finish a scene feeling better about it then when I started.

For example, here’s the draft one vs. draft two version of a snippet from the first chapter of Proof of Life. This is one of the scenes I pretty much rewrote. Others look a lot more similar to their original versions.

Original:

Edited:

Step Four: Then before I post a chapter, I’ll read through the whole thing and sometimes find smaller bits to fix. Then I’ll run it through a grammar checker and ignore half of their suggestions in the name of ✨style ✨.

Overall, I feel like I have a pretty basic editing strategy and I’m really pleased with it. Even though sometimes I feel like more robust edits would make everything way better, it’s a good mix of fixing things but not spending too much time on it. I remember I spent like a month on editing the very first fic I posted at that was only 6k words. If I kept doing that for everything, I'd never post anything at all. With fanfiction, I know that y'all will be nice to me even though it's never perfect <333

Tags and Hellos!! (I'm unsure if we still need the spaces, but i've been burned too many times lol)

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @m1ndwinder @facewithoutheart @run-for-chamo-miles @raenestee

@onepintobean @prettygoododds @noblecorgi @hushed-chorus @angelsfalling16

@thewholelemon @monbons @shrekgogurt @brendughh @hertragedyconnoisseur

@beastmonstertitan @valeffelees @horsesarenotdeer @drowninginships @supercutedinosaurs

@fiend-for-culture @rimeswithpurple @cutestkilla @alexalexinii @ileadacharmedlife

@arthurkko @rbkzz @skeedelvee @bookish-bogwitch @brilla-brilla-estrellita

[taesanluv3r]

pas de deux

hip-hop dancer! kim woonhak x ballet dancer! reader (ft. myung jaehyun & lee hyein as their best friends!)

rivals to lovers </3

teaser wc: 1,448

find the full version here > 🧸

enjoy this snippet ♡

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

“woah look at that, first place gets a cool trophy and everything!”

kim woonhak tells his best-friend jaehyun, eyes gleaming as he looks at the new poster that had just been put up on the school’s bulletin board. “guess that means i’ll be going home with a cool trophy then!” the all too familiar snarky voice is followed by the sound of feet strutting towards him. the boy turns around and is met, much to his dismay, with his sworn rival and arch nemesis, yn ln and her own best-friend, lee hyein. see, the young pair had been enemies since the elementary school talent show. he just couldn't believe that his powerful and energetic hip-hop routine tied with some flimsy ballet. and similarly, she just couldn't get past the idea of her graceful performance having the same score as his repetitive moves. and so, stubborn and arrogant as ever, the competition between the two continued on through middle school and up to this very moment right now, in the heart of their shared high school campus, right in front of the bulletin board.

“you wish!” the boy's friend says sternly, inflicting an eye roll from the rival girl. “no wait, he’s right…” hyein begins, her own eyes wandering off to inspect the poorly printed poster. “it’s a duet competition this time” she finishes, a finger pointed at the bold writing that very clearly said:

star academy’s annual DUET competition. pas de deux, or don’t!

“so?” yn scoffs, “i’ll just have to find a partner to beat you with” her words are sharp, her eyes shooting metaphorical lasers through his own narrow ones. the boy just laughs, adjusting the strap of his bag against his shoulder, “if anyone even wants to partner with such a prissy princess like you” his words make her smile, “aw…” she drags out, clutching onto her satin pointe shoes as she takes one more step closer to him, “you think i’m a princess?” the girl’s eyes are big, batting her eyelashes mockingly at the now fuming boy. the silence had become too loud, the hateful pair cussing each other out with just the fiery looks on their faces. “alrighty then!” hyein says, breaking the tension and pulling her friend out of the petty staring contest. “you’ve got a partner to find so let’s get going!” she continues, tilting her head to the side as she drags the girl away. “good luck finding someone to willingly dance with you!” yn yells one last time, catching a final glimpse of the boy’s middle finger up in the air before he was out of her line of sight.

౨ৎ

“i just don’t get it!” yn groans, head falling against the lunch table as she does so. “why won’t anyone partner up with me?” she turns to her friend who’s busy munching on the mystery meat-loaf that tasted a little too good that day. “maybe it’s because you’re an extremely pretentious prick?” hyein says while simultaneously chewing on her food. “ugh, this stinks!” her voice is hoarse from all the complaining she had been doing, “if you weren’t recovering from some stupid food poisoning, we could’ve done it together!” the ballet dancer whines, playfully hitting her best-friend on the shoulder and receiving a nasty look in return. “not my fault! i didn’t even know the cake was expired!” the girl sighs, deciding not to take all her frustrations out on her friend. “whatever, i’m gonna go blow off some steam” yn gets up, grabbing her pink duffle bag and water bottle. “don’t drive yourself insane, yn. i’m sure your knight in shining armor will come to you soon” hyein assures, still stuffing her face with her lunch. the girl smiles at her friend’s sweet words,

“let’s hope that happens soon, the competition is only two days away”

౨ৎ

“bro fuck this!” woonhak’s feet drag against the marble floors as he enters the classroom. “still no luck?” jaehyun asks, mindlessly stacking up his playing cards into some sort of structure on his desk. “seriously! why doesn’t anyone wanna dance with me? i’m literally the kim woonhak. i’m the best hip-hop dancer in this whole school!” the boy exclaims as he slumps down on a chair, the strength of his words sending his friend’s card structure to fall apart. jaehyun sighs, “dude, maybe if you weren’t such an arrogant asshole, someone would actually willingly work with you. just a thought” he ends his sentence with a click of the tongue before beginning to pick up his cards again. “ugh, whatever! it’s just so stupid…” the frustrated boy hunches over, the contact of his lips against the fabric of his jacket muffling his voice. “why don’t you dance with me, jae?” he suddenly suggests, head tilting to the side hopefully, but his friend just sighs once again. “and what? risk hurting the leg i just finished healing again? nah bro, you’re on your own for this one” the hip-hop dancer lets out one last annoyed groan before he suddenly gets off of his seat, causing his friend to look up at him confused. “where are you going?” jaehyun asks him, wondering why he was beginning to grab all of his things. “to get my mind off things, i’ll see ya later bro” woonhak bids, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “don’t stress so much, man. you’ll find someone soon, trust”

“yeah, i better”

the kim boy doesn't know what to do. he had tried everything, and had asked everyone but he still had no one to dance with. that and with the competition being only two days away, it felt as though the boys head was about to explode. sulking, he wanders off to the academy's sports centre, his feet guiding him towards the dance room at the very end of the hall. his mind is all over the place, he doesn't even think to knock before he enters the room, it's usually empty anyways. the boy is lost in his thoughts for a moment, just a moment before the sound of piano enters his ears.

woonhak looks up, quietly shutting the door behind him as he does so and that's when he sees her. yn's eyes are shut, far too lost in the music to even notice his presence. he doesn't make it known either, watching in silence as she twirls on her toes, arms flailing up and down so gracefully as she turned. his eyes begin to glisten, the sheer passion in the way that she moves, 'has she always danced like that?' her feet tapped so delicately against the glossy wooden floors, her energy was strong, it was fierce and yet so vulnerable, like the slightest wrinkle in her light blue leggings could just ruin it all. the boy is in awe, eyes never leaving as they followed her across the room. her eyes remain closed, the piano number getting faster as she waltzed over to one end, preparing herself for the climax of her routine. taking a deep breath, her arms extend and a single leg lifts up into an arabesque. slowly, she returns into the fourth position, one foot crossing over the other, and her arms resting in front of her lower abdomen. yn twirls into a double pirouette, her arms swinging to her side as she leaps into a grand jeté. she's done it, her killing move that's supposed to win her all the roses, but just before her toes could grace the floors again, a loud thud had shaken her out of focus, causing her to slip against the ground and fall.

catching her breath, the confused girl looks up to find the culprit. her eyes wander over to the mirror, narrowing angrily as she watches her sworn enemy pick up the bag he had dropped just a moment ago. the bag that had made the loud noise that ruined her routine. yn gets up from off of the floor, fixing her leg warmers as she walked over to him. "what the fuck is your problem?!" she yells, not giving him enough time to explain before yelling some more. "i was literally about to land that jeté off so clean and then you just had to come in here and ruin it, didn't you?!" if this were a kid's show, there would be cheap cgi steam blowing right out of her bright red ears. "and you're not even gonna say anything? what are you, stupid?!" her breaths get heavier, partially from the routine she had just done and partially from the immense anger she was feeling. woonhak stares blankly at her, breathing softly before he finally speaks.

"woah"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

end of snippet.

full fic coming soon!! send a message, send an ask, or leave a reply to lmk what you thought of this cheeky little snippet <3 EXCITED FOR U GUYS TO READ THE FULL THING HEHEHEH

[accio-victuuri]

SBMS Clowning Series ☀️ v.6 { finale }

It was a good run and we have been fed very well. if something else comes up then i’ll post an extras version of this clowning series. ^^

recap : version one / two / three / four / five 💓

this scene at the finale, where they won a production award and jian bing was making her speech. how she said that last year, she gained a good production partner ( referring to shengyang ) and like you could tell that it wasn’t just work related that’s she is talking about. it reminds us of that time in TTXS where WYB said that in the past year, he gained a good friend — XZ. and like we (cpfs) believe that it’s more than that, they both gained a life partner.

this is another example of what seems to be a trend in this drama. lol. maybe because it’s modern so they can use these scenes & lines. i don’t know. the coincidences and similarities of things that happened to them irl making it in the drama is something we can’t ignore.

• In XZ studio’s post, they shared more behind the scenes photos and the caption:

when you encounter a beam of light named shengyang, remember to return him to the sun☀️

it’s similar to what zz said before in an interview when talking about WWX. He said, return him to the one he loves ( LWJ ).

there is also a photo where you could see the number 9. It’s actually 19, which is in reference to the event his character in the show is attending. they blurred out almost all of the background to emphasize on him so why leave the 9? Maybe they can cause the big event in the finale is this award and him going onstage with Jian Bing. I’m a clown so the 9 is a great coincidence because who just celebrated their 9th debut anniversary???

• GG’s finale post on his weibo account too. Let’s clown on the time of posting, 19:50 9/5. Also how he mentions the sun which is supposedly to describe Shengyang and the name of the show itself. But the photo he shared is that of a sunflower. He really loves it. It’s why 🌻 is such a favorite symbol among BXGs!

( if you have no idea about sun/sunflower cpn then go here and here )

BONUS: shengyang x shuoshuo SZD 💟 ( similar pose! )

• Some more similarities between XZS and YBO editing 🙃

My favorite would have to be p4. The videos they both posted today had “easter eggs” at the end. So you thought it’s all over, but they include another snippet of them.

and another bonus on that YBO vlog, if you asked baidu what yibo is looking at. the scenery, a related topic will come up and it’s a XZS vlog.

omg even baidu knows 😂😂😂😂

• Spotted. A new water bottle they have that’s the same. Remember that Yibo’s skateboard video is not new. The Asian Games MV was filmed last year. Sooo…. They use other stuff that’s not Bottled Joy 😂😂😂😂

It’s so plain looking that you can’t really tell but i think that’s the purpose. Knowing how they were exposed with the whole “bottled joy” saga when XZ was filming YGY.

-END.

[cilil]

From the WIP game, I am positively curious about "Year of the Archer" and "Dead Heart, Still Beating", anything you would be up to sharing with those?

Also the answer about nazgul thing - as a person who find them and Witch King in particular very interesting abd cool looking? Good for them, hope they will have fun.

Thanks for the ask! The Nazgûl are going to have a great time, that I can promise in advance😌

So "Year of the Archer" is part of the Screw Yule series and it will be a Celedriel piece. Galadriel continues the proud tradition of picking up men in the forest, as popularized by Melian and Lúthien, and Celeborn will find himself rather enchanted by what he doesn't realize is bait for pretty men like him until it's too late. Just some raw and slightly feral Elven passion.

As for "Dead Heart, Still Beating", this is one of my long fic projects and the one I'm looking to potentially start first to test the waters. Maybe I'll run a poll sometime too but tbh it doesn't matter too much because I got invested in the idea and want to write it either way.

Anyway, the premise of DHSB is a small canon-divergence: Amras attempts to sneak into Doriath to steal the Silmaril and ends up being caught by Dior and kept as a hostage. Unfortunately for Amras, he soon finds himself bonding with the twins (as a side note, this is the version of the story where Amrod died when the ships were burned) as well as his eerily charming captor, desperately craving the affection and closeness the oath has long taken from him; the very same oath that may soon force his brothers to sacrifice him.

Here's a snippet:

Dior was still smiling. Whatever it was that he was doing, he knew exactly what effect it had on Amras. With nigh cruel nonchalance, he finally broke eye contact, picked up the Nauglamír and admired it. "You could also drop your sword and surrender to me," he said, speaking to the Silmaril instead of his would-be killer. "If you behave, I may even let you touch it sometime." Such audacity. Never before had anyone disrespected him like that. Amras attempted to draw his sword, but found that he couldn't. His limbs felt weak and sluggish. His body wouldn't obey - frozen like the very same statues he had remembered while looking upon the king. He could neither attack nor flee. Unarmed or not, Dior had to have woven some sort of spell and it had wholly and utterly ensnared him. Amras was helpless. All he could do was stare at the strange yet beautiful predator who had so effortlessly made an oath-bound hunter his prey. All he could do was watch as Dior, with the gentle indulgence of one who knew he had won, put on the Nauglamír and walked towards him. All he could do was wait until fair hands reached for him, like a noose closing around his own neck. White light burned his eyes even as he closed them.

I'm having so much fun writing Dior as his cryptid self. The combination of Ainurin weirdness and Mannish blood in particular must yield some interesting results.

@elentarial tagging you because you are to blame (affectionately)🤍

[naranjapetrificada]

Okay I've gotta come into your askbox to scream about From the Firmament!! I am just so continuously impressed by the obvious care you put into every single sentence. Anyway (and this totally isn't just me fishing for more about the next chapter): what's the latest on the Izzy POV section? He's so frustrating for me to write personally (lack of joy and whimsy gets to me 🙃) so I can't wait to see how you handle him!

You are always, always welcome to scream into my ask box, my dear! And it's funny you should ask about the Izzy POV section, because I actually have a draft WIP Wednesday post from this week that was gonna include a snippet of that. In the way that I needed to get the first chapter posted in order to get certain worldbuilding facts established or I was never going to move on, it kind of feels like I need to get eyes on Izzy as he appears in the world of FtF.

It's not even his character that I feel like I'm struggling with anymore, it's mainly a) creating a believable voice and even moreso b) deciding what information to reveal/examine through him vs other characters. His voice is tricky for a lot of reasons but at the end of the day I can wave my AU magic wand and attribute things to the circumstances being different. The other thing though? God.

It feels so fundamental that his perspective should be heavily skewed and extremely divergent from Ed's in particular, and that's felt so hard to pull off. It matters what elements of their shared backstory get revealed through Izzy and what gets revealed through Ed, because things that seemed important to one of them are almost guaranteed to be incidental to the other.

Like a good example is how Izzy has this awe about him (even if he's in awe of an imagined version of Ed) that means that in any universe, he probably places greater weight on the first time he met Ed than Ed does. If you ask either of them what they remember about something they experienced together, Ed's recollection will zoom in on details that Izzy missed but ignore other things. But because it's a shared history, you could look the eyes of either one to explore it.

Because the options feel so endless, the parts of the Izzy POV that have remained fairly static are the ones where he's not directly thinking about Ed or the [redacted], [redacted], or [significantly longer redaction] in their past that would inform how he sees the scene he's narrating. His intro paragraph, initial reaction to Stede, and discomfort with the sense of freedom that always lingers in Stede's wake were super easy to pull together because it's all right there in canon. But in order to figure out anything else I've had to keep writing and rewriting certain things from his perspective or Ed's, bouncing back and forth until it feels right. Which makes the act of writing chapter 3 literally take longer of course, but also makes it harder to approach because it feels like a much bigger task.

Not to turn this into a general chapter 3 update but basically:

Stede's section (yes, only one!) is pretty much done beyond line edits.

See all of the above paragraphs for the Izzy of it all.

Ed takes me a long time, but most of another Ed section has been done since before I even posted the first chapter. A lot of the initial worldbuilding came out of that part, even! Ed also opens the chapter, and I've mostly got that part squared away too.

So basically all that remains is The Izzy Question and the final section, which I know the shape of and shouldn't have anything like the Izzy issues with. It feels like not a lot at all, but also like so, so much. Maybe you asking will give me the courage to share a couple paragraphs from his section though? I was actually poking at it this morning. Maybe getting something out there will settle some of these open questions for me and I can move on?

Thank you sooooo much, I could talk about this forever. If anyone else wants to, you are always welcome to send an ask about my fic if the mood strikes.

[youhideastar]

Fit for Purpose Deleted Scenes VI: Wangxian

Today's deleted scenes from Fit for Purpose are all Wangxian, all the time, including their happy ever after! Other deleted scenes posts are linked in the masterpost. I hope you enjoy!

There aren’t very many deleted Wangxian scenes specifically, because the way I pared down this fic was to delete all the stuff that wasn’t Wangxian. 🤣 But when I was planning to cover the backstory in more detail, I did write this version of their first meeting:

The first time Wei Wuxian meets Lan Wangji, the Second Jade of Gusu Lan, they almost come to blows. Wei Wuxian can’t let a-Cheng and Jiejie—especially Jiejie, with her health—spend the night in the woods, and if Lan-er-gongzi were at all reasonable, he would just let them in… but no. Wei Wuxian tries reasoned argument. He tries indicating—delicately, of course—that he’d be very grateful if Lan-er-gongzi made an exception.

It’s like talking to a wall.

How can someone so beautiful be so obnoxious?

The second time they meet, after Wei Wuxian has flown all the way back to Caiyi for the invitation, they do come to blows.

I also enjoy this little snippet of teenage WWX not at all understanding his own attraction to LWJ:

It’s a little bit of an odd feeling, because Wei Wuxian has never tried to get someone to fuck him before. Alphas and omegas come to him. Not the other way around. And of course, he can’t ask – he can only offer, and tease, and provoke, and make absolutely sure that Lan Wangji knows Wei Wuxian is… available.

But he just can’t stop thinking about it. About how good he could make it for Lan Wangji. About what it would be like to take him to bed.

He can’t shake the feeling, despite how rigid and boring and pedantic Lan Wangji is, that sharing his bed would be fun. Lan Wangji is so fun to tease and banter with and prod for a reaction – wouldn’t that hold true in bed? That’s the conclusion Wei Wuxian comes to, anyway, when he thinks about it. Which is often.

Then there are a few snippets from the “present-day” timeline.

Sometimes, at the oddest times, he remembers Lan Zhan saying, What would Wei Ying do, if someone were in love with him?

It’s—he can’t even imagine. Obviously. Or—he can start to imagine, but of course, it never goes anywhere.

After all, if he’d been an omega (and he never thinks about why his mind always goes there and not if I’d been an alpha), then he’d never have come home with Jiang-shushu from Yiling. Meaning he’d have been mauled by dogs or starved to death or sold to a procurer and that would have been the end of it. He’d never even have met Lan Zhan.

That’s enough to shut up the Lan Zhan in his head. For a while, anyway.

We could all use a Lan Zhan in our heads, no?

This next conversation turned out not to be necessary, but a line from it became the “I do not want to be to Wei Ying what others have been” line that is, to me, the core of the present-day storyline.

Wei Wuxian works up his courage. “Lan Zhan, was it—bad? The time before?”

Lan Zhan looks quizzical.

“The… when I helped you out, you know.” Still no comprehension. “When you kissed me,” he tries, and yes, the light goes on.

“It was not bad,” Lan Zhan says swiftly. So that’s something, anyway.

“But did I do something wrong? To make you—not want it again?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. He kisses Wei Wuxian’s forehead. “Wei Ying did nothing wrong,” he murmurs. Beat. “I understand that others have been interested in being… serviced. I am not.”

“Oh.” That still sounds like he didn’t like it. But maybe that’s for reasons that don’t have to do with Wei Wuxian.

Finally, this next bit is so cute and it killed me to cut it, but there just wasn’t a place for it. Just imagine that this scene takes place after the fic ends, okay? This is their happy ever after. ❤️

Lan Zhan smiles every time he comes in the door of the Jingshi and finds Wei Wuxian there.

Wei Wuxian asks him, one day. “Why are you smiling, ah?”

“Wei Ying is here.”

“That can’t be all,” Wei Wuxian says, rolling his eyes.

Beat.

“For sixteen years. I walked through this door, and Wei Ying was not here.” Beat. “Now, he is.” Beat. “That is all.”

I hope you enjoyed! Tomorrow, the final batch of deleted scenes will be a grab bag of stuff that didn't fit any particular theme, featuring Jin Guangshan, Xue Yang, and WWX's feelings about his resurrection.

[chatlote]

Please. Share more info about the maruki adopts akechi au. IM INVESTED

Anything about the PT in this au? Would Akechi meet them? (Drama? Romance?)

Thank you sm for being interested! Theres SO MUCH I can say that I wouldnt be sure where to start so I will focus on the ones you did ask!

The phantom thieves are very much in this universe as well. And Akechi will join them eventually, he approaches them himself when he realizes that maybe Maruki isn't following through their cause properly. He requests them to change Maruki heart along with him for the sake of making sure the world the envision will truly be good. (Obviously this will all blow up into Akechi breaking out of brainwashing as they explore the palace)

I will copy a snippet of my notes about the fact that he is part of Shujin academy as well and how he Joker first meet! And reply to the romance question under cut!

"Akechi would be the vice president of the student council and has a general reputation of being approachable and kind and that venting about your problems to him always helps. He doesn't always use his powers it's just a general he Helps just by listening. The entire school is rumors of how kind and pretty is the counselor and his son. They might not look alike but everyone is like they are so similar it's so true this school will always be at peace with them. Then akiren charges in. And it's not like he brainwashed the whole school so rumors start, it's unpleasant and akechi won't have that its not their goal. He changes the person who started the rumors but that doesn't stop it and they can't make their plans too obvious he can't change everyone so he approaches akiren with the goal of knowing how he is doing if he should just change him into someone 'calm' and maybe the rumors would go away on their own. But he realizes akiren is … harmless and kind? There's nothing there to even rumor about. Maybe it's because akechi is there and he is pretending? He decides he wants to keep in contact he wants akiren to keep in touch to know if he will adjust well if he can give names if someone does something to him and funny enough akiren agrees in a similar reason of, tell me if there seems to be a big person that the students are worried about (so the thieves can change them) Basically they are each other new source of info for side quests. Also joker figures it out after kamoshida because the entire school seems to be Too Calm and Too Okay with what just happened. Something akechi slipped with Morgana there makes him realize Akechi has some powers too and maybe that's why."

As for romance, I'm obviously a shuake fan if you have glanced at my blog. Basically there would indeed be a endgame with the two of them but things are a bit more complicated than that. Because for Akechi to heal and accept himself after Maruki brainwash breaks, he needs Joker to not have loved his pleasant self. Unlike canon it's not like that's a version of him he was just pretending to be, it's a version of him that existed out of his control.

So basically while they have feelings for each other before it a bit, even though Maruki says he shouldnt (making this one of the few things Akechi has picked out of his own free will) and Joker mostly likes him as a friend. Their relationship mostly develops as in a similar way to Sumire Rank5-10, Joker spends time with Akechi figuring out together what 'Akechi' even is as a person, its been all 4 years since he has been under control, and now all he has is Anger and Sadness at his manipulation and forgotten memories that came back. Joker is the one who introduces him to competitive games like darts and shogi this time around. The most validating thing Joker does for Akechi is loving his anger more than his politeness in the end.

[thetragicallynerdy]

WIP weekend

Time to do a WIP weekend!! I got tagged by @zombiethingy, and finally have time to write today (and this whole week really), and need some inspiration, so here we go! Thanks so much for the tag friend!!

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

My WIPs are:

garlic soup week planning - subtitle "Sunday AND Tuesday – Soulmate AU + First Meetings – soulmates seeing in colour version. Jim/Archie/Olu/Zheng."

garlic soup week planning - subtitle "Wednesday – Fighting | Hurt/Comfort – Jim insomnia fic - WEREWOLF AU PACK PACK PACK"

garlic soup week planning - subtitle "Friday  - Garlic (NSFW) - Group Sex | Exploring a new kink  AND Saturday – Mix up the pairings/dealer’s choice – Jim/Zheng with Olu/Archie watching."

Concussion – unfinished, unposted (OFMD, Jim-centric)

blood part 4 (OFMD)

For "OFMD garlic soup week is in 6 weeks and I want to have at least a few fics done" reasons, three of my WIPs are for that XD (but they're all in one document because i'm terrible, so they get subtitles too)

Tagging, but only if you want to (and if you don't I am handing you an oven-warm cookie instead)! @alfalfairy, @yourlocal-charlatan, @yerbamansa, @redxluna, @petrichorca - and anyone who sees this and wants to do it! (Feels like a long while since I've tagged writer pals, so I can't remember who all of you that like to do this sort of thing are XD)

Snippet below the cut:

from concussion (which is an exploration of long-term concussion & disability through ofmd)

The first miracle happens – a man comes back to life. It’s not the man you hoped it would be, but it’s a joyful occasion nonetheless. Joyful, and fearful, because you don’t know what you’ll do if Blackbeard or Izzy finds out.

It’s Lucius. You stumble back to your cabin early one evening, because if you don’t lie down you might pass out, and Fang insists he’ll cover for you and shoos you away. You slide open the door and find Lucius sprawling on your bed, whispering to Frenchie who sits on the floor darning the pants he’d torn at the knee the day before.

They both freeze, staring at you like a rabbit caught in a snare.

“Jim,” Frenchie says, stumbling over his words, darning set carefully aside as he scrambles to his feet. “I can explain –“

You stumble into the room, closing the door and lurching towards the bed. Lucius sits up, and you can see now that he’s skinny, filthy too, a full beard covering his face. You can’t believe he’s alive. You can’t believe he’s here.

“I need to lie down,” is all you can say, because if you say anything else you’re going to burst into tears, and if you wrap him up in a hug you might shatter apart.

“No, yeah, absolutely,” Lucius stammers out, sitting up. “I can go –“

You don’t wait. You just crawl onto the mattress beside him and lay down, curling onto your side, dragging the pillow from where it lay and shoving it under your head. It hurts to keep your eyes open, so you close them, press your palms overtop for good measure. The warmth of them helps, and the way they block out the light helps even more. “Stay.”

Silence follows, or maybe you just can’t hear the creaking of his weight shifting on the bed or the looks he and Frenchie exchange over the thudding of your pulse in your ears. Slowly, carefully, not touching you at all, Lucius lays back down.

Two fingers touch the back of your hand, feather-light. “Are you alright?”

A lump grows in your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter. “Don’t ask me that.”

“Sorry -” The touch disappears. Before he can move away completely you reach out, fumble for his hand. Grab it, and hold it so tight your hand hurts.

“Stay,” you mumble again.

So Lucius does.

[n0bluev]

Somehow, im inspired to write that 'revision fic'. === (EDIT : u can skip but heres another snippet for u (3 separate bits that fit together nicely, actually haha) cuz hihi. THE AU: As i said, its a failed "3"rd regression context, where yjh is now in his "4"th round. The last memory he has of kdj is him dying, and to make things worse "In this round, that guy doesn't exist." is a thing, so yjh freaks out a bit but hes totally normal about this whole ordeal & the fact that he doesnt even remembers kdj's face now. Wdym! Hes fiiiiiine!

sorry lol back to the actual post : (,hope u enjoyed that little treat tho^^)) ===

!!THAT [Somehow, im inspired to write [...]] HAS NEVER HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE!!. I always like. do an outline for the overall story and vibe, then flesh out the start or something and cook up a little 500 (probably unsatisfying) words for fun kind of as a bonus. Keep it mostly for my private enjoyment and move on before the story comes to life. And that's okay... Yes, it would be cooler to actually write the AU ideas i get in novel or comic form instead of having them stay at just the 'sketch' & 'idea/brainstorm' phase before i get another idea and leave them to dust up in the pile,,

But yeah, its okay.

In the few years since ive started getting ideas for more elaborate aus/fics, ive noticed that my ideas improved with time. (no shit, i know, but it makes me happy! i grew up!!! i can see it.) My planning methods are better too. So all of that unfinished or abandoned stuff is not at all useless work in my eyes. And who knows, maybe one day i'll bring them back.

--> as a plus, all my fandom brainrot experiences even get transferred into my OC stuff, and frl whenever i read my notes these days (or listen to my voice memos lol) and im just like "HOW DID I THINK OF THIS WOW" or "WHEN DID I PUT THIS LIKE THIS? IT WORKS!" (not to brag or anything but my oc lore goes hard ☝️)

BUT. NOW THIS IS UNEXPECTED.

I DID NO PLANNING. I just started writing for orv and its. Lowkey, good ???? Dont get me wrong i only have 1.5k right now and there are clear holes i have to fill and stuff but... CLEAR HOLES! CLEAR HOLES. Sure Im used to being like "something of the sort should go there..." BUT THIS TIME ITS "THIS SHOULD GO THERE, ILL WRITE IT LATER BUT THE IMAGE IS IN MY MIND, CLEAR AS WATER, AND ONCE I START PUTTING IT ON THE PAGE ISTG THOSE WORDS WILL STREAM OUT OF MY FINGERS AS IF IT WAS A NORMAL OCCURENCE FOR ME" ,,- !??? Yo!

Anyways. Point is that somehow theres interesting stuff going on in my gg doc and the more i write the more i know where i want to go, so that's cool, i feel all powerfull for once

idk if that ease is going to stay once im done with the first scenes (ughh!!! theres so much potential!!!!!!!!) but hopefully yes. either way ill probably post it so im not baiting yall with a "um actually im writing smt rn --- *never shares with the class*" --- either 1) things go well and i write a "real fic" (!? wtf that wasnt my plan!) --- or 2) i only post the finished version of what i have now (expect around 5k? (i have no idea actually)) and we wait together to see if i pick up the idea again haha. (i do wish to write it tho! im not a 'writer' writer but i want to be one, u get me?)

! thank u see u byebye

[daisychainsandbowties]

Hi Cas 🐸❤️ 1, 19, 40 pwease 👀

1. which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

see part of me wants to say star wars au because that’s the only fic that actually has a basic plot. 99% of what i write i maybe on a good day have some idea of how a particular scene will flow, but even that’s liable to get attacked by flashback ghosts at any moment and ripped to non-chronological shreds.

i don’t plan my fics out at all because that makes the act of writing… less interesting to me. usually what i have are some concept designs in my head or a few lines of dialogue or a little scene-hinge (these are the topics i end up researching for a given scene or a mote of information i want to slip inside, and the scene hinges thematically on that. all my poems are hinged like this and it has translated over into my prose, apparently).

still, i want to say star wars au because it was certainly supposed to be more direct and “paced”than it is now. i know that i could write a story like that but also that i don’t really want to. so, probably in truth i wouldn’t rewrite any of my fics, just as i would never scrap a poem and try to write the same poem again; it’s already a different poem. something something the small deaths that cannot be divorced from art change all future versions of that art. sentences are haunted by excised words. you can’t write anything except for the first time.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

Lilith rests her arms on the railing, heedless of splintery wood or the cold spray that ghosts up the hull to touch the inside of each palm. It’s hard not to think of her as beautiful, even with lichen growing down out of her hairline and that sand-tangled mass of dark hair falling down around her face, hiding one of her eyes.

She’s blinking at the sunset with the other and fiddling with one of her braids.

Bright fabric threaded through them, like a mockery of what she is; a leaky creature of moonlight always tucked up in the crow’s nest where nothing can touch her but the wind. Lilith’s odd like that – dressed in her usual off-white shirt all flea-bitten where the collar’s rucked up around her neck. She thinks it makes her look boyish, derring.

It does, and it’s wasted on her because she will not put one foot onto land.

Mostly the braids are done in orange and yellow, with here and there a twist of sea-green, unearthly blue. No black or grey or anything drab. Lilith likes to shine.

She’s put random objects in her braids again. Beatrice thinks she spends half her time up in the masts with her face angled toward the sky and her own hands in her own hair. Its decoration changes from week to week, port to port if she can beg seashells and pottery bits from the other sailors, but it's always some variation on noisy.

This week, she’s got a wick of terracotta hanging down near her collarbone, neatly tied up in split-ends. Her damp black hair is elsewhere tangled around the bleached-white of rat bones stolen from the sailors who supplement their diet with spitted rats. Beatrice pretends not to see their little fires in the lowers decks at night, so long as they're careful.

The tiny bones look almost fake to Beatrice, picked much too clean. She knows that real bones – the ones she’s seen from compound fractures and old skeletons hanging from the seaward gallows – don’t look like that.

Maybe she just never waits long enough, always tasting the whiplash of blood in her mouth when she climbs up the cliffs near the fort to reach the bodies strung up. Statement pieces still dressed in their dying clothes and the flesh dropping off them to spray apart on stones before scattering into the water far below. Ropes creaking, Beatrice underneath with her knife stuck between her teeth once or twice forgetting to make the blade face outward and almost cutting a fresh smile into her face.

Mostly she just nicks her lip as she grabs the handle, fingers slippery with saltwater and sweat, rainwater turning the blade to ice against her teeth. Sometimes there are soldiers watching, but it’s easy to snuff them with a spell for sleep, shrugging at the thought of one of them falling on the spears they carry to poke intruders off the rocks.

The climb isn’t easy. Not ever, no matter the kind of cliffs she scrambles up. Beatrice is not made for it or anything but the bad feeling of magic in her mouth, but she was born half-martyred, according to Mary.

“I think you like it.”

“What?”

“The opportunity to fucking fall.”

Her arms always ache during the climb, fingers stinging from small slices worked into the palms, scrimshawed across the knuckles from stuffing them into holds, ignoring the skitter of spiders running in confusion out onto her wrist when she disturbs their webs.

Muttering “sorry” into the wind so it’s carried up and over the creaking bodies with their flesh dripping down, sometimes a ribbon of rotten blood falling on her scalp as she climbs. Still, she is always half-tempted to lay a kiss on their rotten foreheads, smoothing aside the blistered flesh, the hair flattened against their skulls. Sometimes the hair lasts the longest out of everything.

40. Write a 9-word fic

thank you Daniel. but i would rather die actually :)

[freesidexjunkie]

WIP tag game

Thank you @kcwriter-blog for tagging me!! 💕 tagging @gammacrow @dutifullylazybread and @rosieofcorona (sorry if you already got tagged by someone else)

Sharing a snippet from the working version of chapter 7 of my solavellan fic. You can read the first six chapters here on AO3. Not exactly entirely on hiatus while I struggle thru this semester, but I have had very very little time or spoons to transcribe from my notebook onto the computer so I can actually upload.

I focused instead on summoning and unsummoning a small flame at my fingertips. Pop, crackle, sizzle, over and over again. In, and out. “You don’t have to come check on me, Solas. I’m fine,” I said.

“I know,” he replied, cupping a young flower in his hand to inspect it. “I merely thought I might enjoy the fresh air.”

“Maybe I wanted all the fresh air to myself,” I answered sharply as the next flame popped and sputtered out.

Solas only smiled to himself as he eyed the flame. “Perhaps I wanted to make sure you didn’t burn the courtyard down, then.”

“Very funny,” I replied with a snort as I tried to suppress a smirk.

“May I sit?”

He was gesturing to the empty spot on my left. I did think about sending him away, for a moment, as I stared into the burning flame growing higher in my palm. “Fine,” I finally sighed out, “if you aren’t worried about getting set on fire, that is.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he said as he sat down on the edge of the fountain. “You seem to have some mastery over it. I think I should be safe, as long as I don’t provoke you.”

I felt a wry smile tug at the corner of my lips. “You think so little of me? Was my tantrum that bad?”

“You’re too hard on yourself, lethallan,” he said. “Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t throw a fireball at me unless I truly deserved it.”

“And sometimes, not even then,” I replied as I bumped my shoulder into his knee. The easiness of the gesture quickly turned into something sickening and guilt, twisting my chest like a vice. I could scream and rage at him all I wanted, but that didn’t seem to change how much I wanted to slip back into our old, familiar patterns. It would’ve been too easy to want to stay there, leaning into his legs while the world spinned on into chaos around us. But I didn’t, instead awkwardly swaying away and going back to work on my flames. “I wouldn’t risk scorching Josie’s gardens, at least.”

He cleared his throat as I leaned back away; or maybe choked a bit. “Yes, well… It is impressive magic. Did it take much practice?”

My concentration on the mindless casting broke as I considered it, flexing the metal fingers as I turned my forearm this way and that. “Sort of? Some of it, yeah, but not the… well, this. It’s just something to do with my hands, really.” I answered. “It’s different than casting through a staff, though. I did shock myself a few times with lightning magic. But it’s like… just directing the magic a bit differently. It took some practice, but it’s not exactly hard.”

He stared at the arm as I explained, blue glowing deep within the golden-hued metal. “Remarkable,” he replied.

“What, your spies didn’t bring you a full report?”

“You overestimate the extent of my involvement,” he said, though his cool exterior cracked when I cut a skeptical look at him. With a nervous chuckle, he continued. “I… all I know is that it was crafted by the dwarven arcanist from the Inquisition. I did not press my people for more. I wasn’t lying when I said I have tried to stay out of your affairs.”

I eyed him for a moment, letting him sweat just a bit longer before speaking. I hummed a little sound in response, propping a cheek on my knee to look at him with the smallest of amused little smiles. “You’re a terrible liar,” I said.

“I never claimed not to be,” he answered, his cheeks coloring as he tried to avoid looking me in the eyes. He angled himself a little more towards me - or more towards my arm, as his staring suggested. “Are you… how much control do you have over it, exactly? When casting, I mean. Is it–”

“As much control as you have over your staff, at least,” I answered. “And don’t think I can’t tell how hard you’re trying not to drool over it.”

“I’m not–” He stopped short, letting his defensiveness dissolve as he caught my poorly hidden smirk. “Yes, of course,” he said with a small huff of laughter. “It is an impressive bit of enchantment. I was merely curious about how it worked.”

“Is that your way of asking to see it?”

“I… no. I wouldn’t want to bother you any more than I already–”

“It’s fine,” I said, extending the enchanted arm up towards him. “I don’t mind, I suppose. It’s not like I have anywhere important to be, anyways.”

Solas glanced back and forth between me and my arm with a cautiously guarded look, as if he was deciding whether this was some sort of trap. Which was ridiculous, anyways – if I wanted to do something to him, I already would have. I shook my arm at him a little with an impatient look. “Well?”

Carefully, gingerly, he took the proffered hand in his own and began examining it. Slowly, his cautious reluctance relented to his curiosity. He was careful at first not to twist or pull on anything as he looked over it – overly so, like he thought it might break if he did something wrong. But the blue glow of the lyrium and the soft thrum of magic quickly pulled him in, and he leaned in over the arm to examine it more closely. “Interesting… Is it fully functional? In terms of spellcasting, I mean.”

“More or less,” I answered, looking at my arm instead of Solas. “There’s a cap on the output. I don’t think I’ll be casting any huge fireballs with it, but I haven’t found any magic it can’t do at all.”

He gave that a hum as he continued to look over the arm. He looked thoughtful and curious, completely lost in study as he continued to ponder its inner workings. I found myself staring at the furrow of his brow and the tilt of his jaw as he thought, uncomfortable again with how horribly familiar this all felt. Solas turned my arm gently so that the palm was facing upwards, supporting it in one hand while he leaned over it. During all of this, I was sitting stock still, trying not to stare at the way his eyes darted over my arm and to breathe like a normal person while he worked. I knew I couldn’t really feel any sensations on that arm, but every delicate touch and thoughtful look still seemed to send shivers through me. It’s just an arm. He’s seen much worse, I thought to myself, unhelpfully as I felt my cheeks getting warm.

“Could you cast something now? Like what you were doing early,” he asked.

I let out a breath I had been holding as I forced myself back to the real world. “Depends. How attached are you to your eyebrows?” I asked, to a seemingly unamused audience. “Kidding. Let go.”

He did, and I gratefully took the chance to slide a bit back to a safer distance. Summoning up my concentration, I focused my mana to channel through my arm, just like I would any staff – but with less force behind it. A small swirl of snow and ice began to dance around my finger tips before coalescing into a small whorling ball of flakes in my hand, like the inside of a snow globe set free. But Solas’ eyes weren’t on my showy display; rather, he was watching the glowing seams between metal plates and connections as the lyrium inside reacted to my magic.

“Curious,” he said. “It has a much larger supply of lyrium than I’d expect. With your magical talent, you should be able to cast larger spells with ease if you just–”

“Yeah, if I wanted my arm to blow up in my face,” I said, interrupting his train of thought. “Dagna capped it on purpose. If I pushed it too far with a staff, I could just drop it and run, but I can’t get rid of a limb so easily. And, as it stands, I try not to break my fancy, irreplaceable toys.”

“Ah. Of course,” he said, still examining the lingering glow. “A kind gift. It suits you.”

I looked over my own arm, running a finger over the rivets and carvings on it. Dagna had made it as a custom piece, of course; a surprise, with me in mind in seemingly every detail. Crafted from dragon bone and aurum, decorated in delicate floral motifs and running vines carved into the metal – and a shitload of lyrium to power it and hold all the enchantments together. “Elegant, ingenious, and surprisingly deadly. Just like you, Inquisitor!”

“Well, Dagna’s a kind person,” I said quietly, still reminiscing over it.

“Even so, I doubt many others could inspire such a gift,” Solas said, turning ever so subtly in his seat towards me. “You have a… goodness of spirit, a kind of manner about you that people are drawn to, it seems.”

Was that butterflies in my stomach, or cement? I shifted against the ground, uncomfortable with both possibilities. “Solas, don’t. I–”

“I don’t say it to try and flatter you,” he said, looking now at me instead of just my arm. “I say it because it is true. You have a gift for making yourself agreeable. A sincerity that endears people to you. Sometimes, against all sense,” he continued, the last words almost under his breath.

I rolled my eyes as I looked off into the garden. “‘Against all sense?’ Gee, thanks.”

“I don’t mean– Like Josephine and Leliana. Ready to help you at the drop of a hat, despite the… company you brought,” he said.

“Or like you?” I added quietly, twisting the grass under me with my fingers as I looked down.

“I… in some ways, yes,” he answered, just as quietly. Why did that still feel like such a stab to the heart, after two years? I tried to hide the involuntary sharp breath I took with a small nod, looking ahead at the ground with a carefully measured face, determined not to betray anything either way. Solas seemed to recover quicker than I from the unexpected question, however. “I imagine it is much the same in your personal life. You were always well liked in the Inquisition, too; surely, in Wycome, you don’t lack for friends or… or… what have you.”

The way he faltered on the last bit, despite trying to sound so sure of himself, made me snort in spite of myself. “Is this your way of asking if I’ve been seeing anyone else?”

The words were out of my mouth before I even realized the weight of what I was saying, or who I was saying it to. I froze, grass in my fingers forgotten, dread overtaking me as I carefully looked over to see Solas’ reaction – which was almost worth my own mortification, at first. He made a sound like he was choking on something as his face blanched, then blushed. “Of course not,” he balked. “I mean, I would not presume– it isn’t my concern if you– whoever you choose to… keep company with, it is not my–”

“Solas, we really don’t have to have this conversation. I don’t even know why I said it, it just came out. I…”

He stopped to get a handle on his floundering as I spoke, letting out a deep breath as he did. “It is not any of my business. I would never try to… to pry into your personal life. I would hope that you are still happy, of course. However you choose to–”

“Please, stop talking,” I said, burying my face into my knees to hide how red I was turning. “Gods, even if… I think I would rather drown myself in the fountain than have this conversation right now, Solas.”

[secret hidden content that I’m not done working on yet and don’t have to a place I am even remotely okay with putting it out there yet but it’s good okay I promise it’s gonna be good]

“...of course,” he muttered, making a small nod.

“Thank you,” I muttered into my legs, with an exacerbated and thoroughly embarrassed huff as I peaked my eyes back out over my knees.

AHHH anyways thank you if you read this far! Here'a some art of the prosthetic arm in this chapter from @the-scottish-art-guy as a thank you

[thunders-warcats-stuff]

TALLSTAR'S ROUGH CHILDHOOD

Based on this:

https://www.tumblr.com/thunders-warcats-stuff/714680353463369728/character-deconstruction-sandgorse-and-talltail?source=share

AND “No Light No Light by Florence and the Machine

I dreamt of a scene where Tallstar was talking to Rusty about his family and I woke up from that dream and was like "that's it, no more "dying to erase pain and harm you caused. You don't get to escape the consequences of your actions." Because death isn't real for these cats. They'll see their loved ones at the end of their life and possibly in the middle of it! It's confirmed! So! The Rocky Road to Redemption: Sandgorse Edition

LOUDER THAN WORDS VERSION

<So what was your family like? Did you have any siblings? Who was Dawnstripe to you? Who were your parents? Are they the reason you're this awesome?>

(Tallstar is talking *and* signing here, so quotes and brackets)

<"You sure are curious, kid. Let's see... I have five siblings, but unlike your litter, they weren’t all born at the same time. Forest cats have smaller litters. Four was a lot for anyone, but my mother and heart-father handled it! Really well.">

<Heart-father?>

<'I have the father who sired me with Palebird and the father who helped me grow, like Dawnstripe did. His name was Woolytail.">

Tallstar made the sign and sound for sheep and waved his tail.

SNIPPET 1

🎵“[Heaven] StarClan help me, I have to make it right!”🎵

“Why won't you just talk to me?! Can't you see that I'm trying?!”

"You're trying?! Palebird has been struggling since Tall was born, but you're trying!

You told your only son, the boy who just wants you to love him, to stay away from you and the tunnels but you're trying!

Have you even apologized?! Have you asked Palebird how she's coping? Have you talked to Tallpaw about anything but the tunnels?!

Do you even know how close or far he is to getting his warrior name?!"

"I-!"

"No! You don't! You spent all this time growling and groaning about what you can't have while your whole life is right before your eyes! But it's okay, mollies and toms, he's trying!"

SNIPPET 2

Dawnstripe defends Tallpaw from Sandgorse “Tallpaw!”

“Are you here to ask about his progress?”

“No, I-!”

“Are you here to watch what we're doing today?”

“No, I-! Sure. Might as well see the life of a runner.”

“Alright. Sit over there and be quiet. If you have any questions, talk to me and me alone. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Tallpaw, that's the worst crouch I've ever seen! Don't you-?!”

“Quiet!” Dawnstripe barked. “Tallpaw, just like we practiced. To the TallSlate and back.”

Tallpaw took off at half-speed.

“A kit can go faster than that!”

“Shut up!” Dawnstripe snarled. “If you're not going to be helpful, go lay somewhere else! Tallpaw doesn't need your snake's tongue!”

SNIPPET 3

Woolytail helps Palebird out a lot and eventually they fall in love but at first he and the rest of the tunnelers are trying to get Pale back into the swing of things

Palebird stands up to Sandgorse when confronted about Woolytail

🎵You want a revelationyou wanna get it rightwell that's a conversation I just can't have tonight🎵

Pale: “even if he is just doing this to catch my eye, he's helping! You haven't done anything to make up for your horrible attitude to me or Tall, and it's not fair that you want to take away the cats who care just because you're jealous!”

SNIPPET 4

Dawnstripe sees Talltail off

“You know you don't have to do this, right? Sandgorse might be grumpy and snappish, but you don’t have to take that. He's going to be fine in the elder's den.”

“I need to find out what happened. He doesn't remember. He thinks he took someone down there but he didn't know for sure, and the Passing Cats left before we could ask them anything. If I can do this, if I can get answers for my father, then maybe…”

“Maybe?”

“I just want him to see me as worthy of being his son.”

“Oh, Tall…” Dawnstripe purred sadly, pressing her side to his. “I know it doesn't feel like it, but you were always worthy of being his son. He hasn't been a very good father to you.

"I don’t think he'd have been any better had Finch lived. He's always going to be like this, and his early retirement certainly won't help things… Are you sure this will help you?”

“Yes.”

“Then go, kid. Good luck. Remember what I've taught you. Hunting will be challenging, because we usually run our prey down and you can't do that in close-quarters.

"I think your battle training might help there. It relies on being fast enough to hit your opponent but avoid getting hit in return. Do you want to tell anyone else, or should I?”

“I…”

Talltail choked up.

How could he explain his quest to his mother and heart-father?

To Barkface and Shrewclaw?

Would Sandgorse even say anything if he told the older tom?

“I'd be glad to do it, if only to see the look on Sandgorse’s smarmy face when he realizes he ran you off.”

“I'm not trying to run away-.”

“You are, even if you come back. But I don’t blame you at all. I'd run too, if Heatherstar could spare a runner.”

“Do you know why she can't? She did close the tunnels.”

“Yes, but the tunnelers have to get used to a very different method of hunting and fighting than they're used to. We runners will all have our paws full teaching our grown Clanmates like apprentices. Stars help me, this is gonna be rough!”

“Maybe I shouldn't-.”

“Nope, you're going! Remember how we practiced following through? It'll be put to good use during this trip. Cats will understand.”

“I kinda figured they'd all be mad at me.”

“That'd be Sandgorse and him alone. And we'll all be barking at him for the rest of his days if he tries any of his rabbit-dung on you.”

[archduke-enver-gortash]

🔥🔥🔥

i am too much of a pussy to share snippets so you get a summary (without too many details or big spoilers because y’know i have to save some shit. sorry i said i wasn’t fitting for this game lol) !!!!!!! 🫵 🫵 🫵 🫵 (<- adding that emoji so i feel braver)

so this is the event that people who have seen a lot of my posts maybe remember as ‘tower arson’ lol. it’s also the event in which gortash realises that zeke is his equal in divinity.

so, the year is about 1483 and gortash and zeke have had many horrific encounters in their weird thing already. (basic version for the early days: zeke is investigating gortash’s schemes/on the hunt for him as a detective and gortash is ruining his life but a bit less fervently than after this event.) after all these zeke is a total wreck, mentally and physically. he hasn’t eaten or slept in weeks and the last time he did also had such a time span in between. gortash is plaguing his nightmares, so how could he? gortash is plaguing the food, so how could he? the fic just before this deals with zeke’s decision to finally make this hunt as a detective a real hunt, so when he hears about gortash having a celebratory dinner/gathering/festivity to honor his work on the finally finished clocktower this dinner is taking place in, he makes completely well-thought out decisions like every sleep-deprived, starving, mental wreck and decides to take out gortash that evening. that’s where i’ll shut up for now but one more thing i should add: this takes place on august/eleasis 14th :]

@rowanisawriter you asked for this one too!!

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

3 WIP Tag Game!

Rules: Create a new post and share snippets/screenshots/etc. from three of your WIPs!  Art or Fic! Tag as many people as you like! (created by @limetimo)

Thank you so much to @elusive-honeydew for the tag and sharing your WIPs. They were SO good!!!

Here are three of my most active WIPs at the moment:

Difference of Opinions Part 2 (Miguel O'Hara x Spider!reader)

Difference of Opinions Prequel (Miguel O'Hara x Spider!reader)

Jake's Destiny - New Client (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x stripper!Reader)

Difference of Opinions Part 2 (Miguel O'Hara x Spider!reader):

You heard someone enter the room and you cracked one eye to see Pavi standing at the foot of the bed holding a cup of water. But when he saw you looking back at him, he dropped the cup– spilling water across the floor –and run from the room hollering, “Guys! She finally woke up!” A minute later, he returned with Gwen, Margo, Peter B. Parker, and Mayday with him. As you struggled to sit up, Mayday shot a web above your head and swung over to land directly in your lap. Before Peter could snatch her away, you drew her close to you and snuggled your face into the top of her knit spider-hat. She hugged you back as you cooed, “Hey there, little one.” “Mayday…” her father muttered as he held out his arms, but you shook your head.“ It’s okay, Peter. I’m okay.” However, you noticed the nervous look that he exchanged with Gwen and you felt a deep pit open up in your stomach as you realized their concern. “Ah. You’re not worried about me. You’re worried about her with me.” Peter shifted uncomfortably as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s nothing against you, Gaze. It’s just we don’t really know where you stand.”

Difference of Opinions Prequel (Miguel O'Hara x Spider!reader):

Though you were currently laying on your back on your bed with your amulet firmly grasped in your hand, your eyes were rolled back into your head as you gazed at the tangled web of dimensions and pathways before you. As usual, you were focused on the specific orange-red dot that you had identified as Earth-2099. Though you had tried over the past year to reach out to other Earths, other universes, this was the only one you had received a reply from. However, that was fine with you. After all, this Earth was where Miguel was and being able to talk to him had become your favorite thing to do.  However, talking didn’t seem to be enough for you lately. You were tired of staring at this pulsing dot in front of you. You wanted more. Even a small glimpse of this other world you had come to know and the man who lived there.  So, as he finished explaining what he had been working on since the last time the two of you talked, you asked, “Miguel… what is your world like?” “What do you mean?” His voice was so clear he could have been laying on the bed next to you and yet… he wasn’t.  You sighed and ran your hand over your face. “I don’t know. We’ve talked so much about each other and our lives, but I don’t know anything about the physical aspects of your dimension. I’m just curious if you look like me. Or if our worlds are made from the same basic components.” “I’m still not following.” Rolling over onto your stomach, you said, “Well, if there are an infinite number of different worlds out there, there have to be some that are very similar to our own and some that are entirely foreign. Like maybe our worlds are exactly the same except my sky is blue and yours is green. Or maybe your version of what you call humans really do have eight legs and a bunch of eyes and look like what I know as spiders here.” Miguel chuckled. “Well, my sky is blue– or at least what we call blue. And I only have two legs, two arms, and two eyes.” You gasped. “You have two eyes! We only have one!” “Wait, really?” Miguel’s voice was suddenly much more tense than it had been seconds before. Laughing at his distress, you said, “Nah, we have two. I just wanted to hear your reaction.” “Oh.” He let out a relieved sigh. “You had me going there for a minute. Not that there would have been anything wrong with you only having one eye. I was just surprised. But I guess that’s not something that just randomly comes up in conversation.” “No, not usually.” You gently stroked the spider on your amulet. Pressing it to the bridge of your nose, you whispered, “I wish I could see your eyes. I wish I could see you.”

Jake's Destiny- New Client (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x stripper!reader):

You batted your long eyelashes at him as you bit your lip and cooed, “Hey there, baby. What brings you in to see me today?” Your voice was dripping with a saccharine charm that Jake was sure worked on some people, but to him just sounded condescending and belittling. Rolling his eyes, he drained his glass and reached for the bottle in front of him. “You can drop the act. I don’t want it.” You stared at him for a moment, your eyes wide and innocent. But then your entire demeanor shifted as you straightened up to your full height. No longer this meek, innocent girl looking to please her client, you met his gaze with a self-assured confidence and smirked at him. Now it was his turn to be surprised. It was like he was staring at a completely different woman.  Walking over to the couch where he was sitting with a flutter of your fur-trimmed robe, you took the freshly filled glass from his hand and raised it to your lips. “Thank god. I hate doing the innocent little girl thing.” You downed his whiskey in one shot and placed the glass down on the table. “They didn’t tell me what you wanted when they sent me in here and usually, men like you want one of two types of girls so I took a guess.”

No Pressure Tag: @green-socks, @colerambles, @wkndwlff, @blue-aconite, @wildbornsiren, @startrekfangirl2233, @sunlightmurdock, @topguncortez, @mayhemmanaged, @yanna-banana, and anyone else who wants to share!