#ashgrove wip

[noblebs]

Heads Up, Seven Up!

Rules: post seven lines from your WIP

thank you for the tag, @blackhearteros! I'll tag @writernopal, @monstrouswrites, and @vivrune :)

I like writing action sequences, but it's hard to come back in the very middle of one after a several-month break lol

The next blow glances across Kris' shoulder. They seize the opening and duck in close. Fighting with a height disadvantage is familiar territory. They angle their uppercut and land hard against the right side of his nose. Cartilage crumples with a wet crunch. He cries out and staggers backward. A strangled, inhuman noise whispers just behind Kris: their only warning to get out of Tom's way when he lurches forward and grabs the man's head in both hands.

[thiefbird]

WIP Wednesday

Still slowly plugging away at this next fic! It will be finished Eventually but i am also working very very hard on @projectregencygentleman so words are taking longer than normal

"I have been remiss as a host, I find - why are you in London, my dear?" Stephen said as he idly swirled the remains of his port in its glass. "Pray, is dear Sophia well?" Jack broke out into a smile. "Oh, yes, she is quite satisfied with Ashgrove, so long as I let her set everything just so. She sends her love, and a basket for you: lamprey and jam, and stockings too - for she knows as well as I you should not be allowed to darn; I am to take yours back for her to set to fixing, if I cannot manage to bring you home yourself." "But why are you in London? Surely Sophie could not bear to part with you so soon, you do not seek a ship?" "She will be glad to have me out of her hair a night or three, I wager. No - though I must call on Melville while I'm in town and keep on good terms; do not let me forget, soul - I've no plans to go to sea; we do well enough on my half pay and interest on what Sophie put in the funds."

[kumakakes]

what if I made a FE3H AU with Lea haha just kidding!....Unless  👀

[writerman]

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

for every "🌹" received in my inbox i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing:

(To be clear, you sent 5 roses so 5 sentences lmao.)

Noncommittal but given Thranduil’s concerned expression not lessening any, he knew it might have been the wrong thing to say even if it was the truth. With a sigh, Bard slips past Thranduil and takes a seat with the others who still were still speaking quietly to Ashgrove. 

“You say we will receive help, do you have any idea as to when this might happen?” Gandalf questioned almost casually as he tipped more sugar than was healthy into his coffee. 

Ashgrove gave no response as he looked up at Bard. - Petrichor and Coffee Beans. Chapter 15

[lamiasluck]

Picture Perfect

A magic au drabble! Something quick I wiped up while I attempt to write bigger wips lol

It’s Author and Host! The magical twin bastards. Context: they’re basically in a gang and are assassins. I should really expand on their story  

Tags: @emptynarration @alvie-ashgrove

(Minor blood and death warnings btw)

-

Author wiped the blood off his cheek with the back of his hand. He rested his bat on his shoulder as he looked down at he and his brother’s work. “Whew, that was tiring,” he gave a light chuckle, extending his free hand for a fist bump. “Good job!” 

Host gave a relieved sigh and returned the gesture. “Now all they need to do is take a picture and send it to Dark.” Their familiars fluttered to the ground and curiously sniffed at their “work.” 

At their feet, was a bloody heap of a man. Their latest hit. It was a simple job, and the twins didn’t have anything else to do so they might as well commit first-degree murder. What else was one to do on a Tuesday afternoon, after all? 

The fun wasn’t done just yet, apparently. Author stifled a laugh and handed his phone to Host. “I have an idea.” 

That was never a good sign. Host took the phone, but before he could ask what Author was doing, his brother crouched beside the body and posed for a picture. 

“Take the pic!” Author snickered, sticking out his tongue and winking at the camera. Licht even decided to get into frame, laying on the body and nipping at the dead man’s hand. 

“Seriously?” Host sighed. He shook his head, though there was a small smile on his face as he held back a laugh. 

“Yeah, it’ll be funny! Just take it.” 

“Alright...” Host lined up the shot and snapped a quick picture. Yep, that sure was Author posing casually beside a body. His brother was oddly photogenic considering he was the one that did most of the work on this job. 

Author laughed as he bounced back to his feet. He quickly went to Host and looked at the picture. “Oh good, I look hot,” he hummed. He took his phone back and prepared to send it to Dark.

“Is Author seriously sending that to Dark?” Host asked, knowing fully well what the answer was going to be. He didn’t need his magic to predict this. 

The look Author gave his brother was an expression that conveyed. ‘Yeah, no shit I’m gonna send it to him.’ Setting everything up, he paused before he texted Dark. “Wait, don’t tell me what he’s going to say, I bet I can get it right.” He straightened his posture and looked serious. “Why do I even let you work for me?” He guessed, making his voice gruff and deeper to mimic their boss. Though, he soon laughed again and was back to his cocky ways. “Am I right?” 

Host actually laughed alongside him at that terrible impression. “No, but Author’s close. It’s,” he mimicked Dark too, “why do I even pay you?” 

Author tsked. “Damn...” he hit send, and no surprise, Dark texted back exactly what Host predicted. Should’ve guessed that. Putting his phone away, he patted Host’s shoulder and they began walked away from the scene. With a simple mutter from the narrating man, the body was pulled six feet under and the scene was basically cleaned up. 

“The Host believes Author should pay for lunch because he lost that bet,” he chuckled. Key perched on his shoulder and nodded enthusiastically. 

“Fine, that’s fair.” Author rolled his eyes, but grinned as they kept walking. Licht was close behind him, making a sound that was dangerously similar to a snicker. 

Just another day on the job.

[noblebs]

📂📂📂

thank you! 🖤

1- Kris wishes they could be a mechanic and dreams of fixing up an old muscle car 2- Nieve's guilty pleasure is dancing, she loves dancing competition shows 3- Tom is from Poland and named himself after his grandfather

ask for random facts about OCs!

[noblebs]

👗🌹🎳 for any character you like!

thank you nopal! let's talk about Tom~

👗-Describe their style grungy: lots of plaid and ripped denim. he also likes loose muscle tanks and tends to dress in lots of layers. he doesn't accessorize much, apart from a sizable number of facial piercings

🌹 - Do they have a signature scent? Perfume, shampoo or alike? not really, he's not very picky about the scent of his shampoo or deodorant so he usually just grabs whatever.

🎳 - Do they have hobbies? If yes, what are they? he likes dabbling in lots of media of visual art; his favorite is oil painting. he also spends a lot of his free time doing odd jobs for Francesca, which he probably thinks of as a hobby even though it's really an unending series of random chores

[noblebs]

Happy STS! I hope you've had a great week 💙

A bit of a fun one this time because I have had a long week. Your OCs get locked in Ikea overnight; what do they do?

omg this is a very cute and whimsical question but I don't know if I'm qualified to give good answers... I have literally been in an Ikea once and it was the worst shopping experience of my life. I hate Ikea so so much lol

that being said!

Nieve (assuming for the purpose of the question she can't just call someone) would bring a comfy chair to the front of the store and just sit calmly next to the doors so she can give the first person to unlock them the chewing out of a lifetime. Kris and Tom would hang out with her for maybe 30 minutes before Kris gets very bored, so they keep each other occupied by breaking shit and, if they could find paints or markers (does Ikea carry those?? don't ask me), graffiti. then have sex on the top of a bunk bed. Nieve refuses to so much as enter a store with the two of them ever again.

[noblebs]

12 and 19 percent for the battery percent asks for an oc/s of your choice

ahh thank you!! I'll use Orion for one and Nieve for the other

12%. Is your character aware of their flaws?

as far as Orion is concerned, her one and ONLY flaw is caring too much. most other people simply can't handle how much love she has to give is all, she has done nothing else wrong ever in her life

19%. How does your character's living space reflect their personality?

Nieve is extremely practical; her home is not minimalistic, but it is immaculately well-organized. she has precious few items that are solely decorative, and all of those have some personal or emotional significance

ask about my OCs with your battery percentage!

[noblebs]

Manuscript search tag

tagged by @mariahwritesstuff, thank you as always <3

Quest - from Ashgrove, the only thing I can get is "question" a few times

“I bet you could still make it as a painter someday,” they say, deftly avoiding the bait of Tom’s unasked question.

Blade - from Orion's short story

He freezes, craning his head back for the best angle he can get; from between his shoulder blades, centered over his spine, stare back a pair of dark blue eyes.

Joke - from Ashgrove

"I--what?" He laughs, a nervous gut reaction, but she doesn't break and tell him she's joking.

Fight - from Ashgrove

Kris closes their eyes to gather their focus; the ghost of their last shift still haunts their worn-out muscles, fighting against the demand to bend into another shape yet again.

tagging @skyekilaen @vivrune @nanashi23 to search for page, flush, tight, and dress :)

[noblebs]

1, 5, and 10 with any and all characters you want to answer for :)

hell yeah, thank you!!! I'm going to do both Tom and Nieve from Ashgrove WIP, I haven't been giving either of them nearly enough love lol

1. What is the character’s go-to drink order? (this one gets into how do they like to be publicly perceived, because there is always some level of theatricality to ordering drinks at a bar/resturant)

TOMASZ: Almost always craft beer, usually a porter. He's not native to Portland, OR (the nearest big city to Ashgrove), but by god is he a Portlander in spirit

NIEVE: When she's drinking socially/out with a friend, she'll usually opt for martinis, but if she's out drinking alone (more common) she's not going to be coy about it: she goes straight for vodka shots

5. What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? (Good way to get some emotional backstory in.)

TOMASZ: The emotional aftermath of protesting or other social action always hits him hardest about a day later. He went out with a group after dark for an organized protest, things escalated. There was no tear gas this time but people started getting arrested. He ran like hell, and the guilt of doing so instead of standing by his comrades still eats away at him. He stayed inside and cried for most of the next day, scared of what could have happened to him and scared of having not let it happen at the same time.

NIEVE: She puts on a cold, stoic persona around basically everyone. But secretly, very secretly, this may be her biggest and most shameful secret... she cries easily over emotional movies. I think the last time for her was probably Big Eden (just because that movie makes ME cry every time). It's been a long time since she's had a romantic connection with someone and, by and large, she's genuinely fine with that; she finds personal fulfillment in other ways. But in those moments she feels the longing for intimacy and vulnerability.

10. What objects do they always carry around with them? (What do they need for their normal, day-to-day routine? What does ‘normal’ even look like for them.) 

TOMASZ: Spare change for the bus, exactly two keys (not on a single keyring), phone, ID and debit card (that's right, no wallet), and a pen or pencil--most of these he'll leave in his sweatshirt or coat pockets so he doesn't have to remember to pick them up as he's leaving his apartment. It's not that he believes in travelling light so much as he's just disorganized as all hell

NIEVE: Only the absolute essentials go in her pockets: wallet, keyring, phone, sometimes pepper spray. But she does keep a symbol of her goddess Brigit, which is a family heirloom, hanging from the rearview mirror in her '93 Ford Taurus, which also usually contains a spare gallon jug of water, a first aid kit, a multi-tool, a camera with a big zoom lens, and a police scanner.

[noblebs]

67%!

thank you!

67%. What's the worst injury they've ever gotten?

ohoho this is such a fun question, I had to resist the urge to answer for everyone lol. Kris gets his in the course of the WIP so I won't spoil that :)

Tom was killed via a gunshot wound to the lung and suffocated. but he woke up a few days later perfectly fine, just a little thirsty for blood, so no big deal right?

ask about my OCs with your battery percentage!

[noblebs]

gotta get better at sharing my work, so here's just a little snippet for you all from chapter 1 of my Ashgrove WIP 🖤 okay to reblog

---

The Sawyer could pass for a lowly dive bar in any other dreary, miserable little city were it not for the ten-foot carved lumberjack right beside the front door to sneer down at every patron who enters. In the busiest of skiing seasons, tourists clog up the entryway in order to photograph each other in front of the jeans-painted legs. But on days like today, when only the most dedicated of local regulars brave the wind and rain to nurse cheap tap beer in silence, Kris holds staring contests with its wide cartoon eyes and wonders how long his manager would take to notice if he defaced its toothy grin. Classic rock crackling through the corner speakers wars with the television set above Kris’ head that drones out sports commentary. If he turns the music up or changes the channel, Jane in her usual bar stool protests with increasing belligerence until he reverses it.

“It’s the exact same thing as last week, and the week before that,” he complains as she settles back into her spot. “A bunch of skinny white girls run around and kick a ball, so what?”

She harrumphs and lights a cigarette; they have struck a deal in which he will let her smoke inside when the owner isn’t around as long as she tips generously. “Kid, you don’t even know the goddamn rules of soccer, do you?”

“No one expects someone this pretty to know sports rules,” he sniffs, lifting his chin. “Besides, you don’t care about the rules either, you just like the tiny shorts they wear.” She laughs, hoarse and deep, and raises no objection.

[noblebs]

heads up, seven up tag

thank you @saintedseraph for tagging me 🖤

rules: share the last seven lines you wrote in your draft!

what urban fantasy needs more of is morality debates

I’ll be tagging (with no pressure!): @dreamsheartstory, @ashvanewrites, @louyardley, @authfelixgraves

[noblebs]

for the fashion ask game: 2, 3, and 9!

ah thank you, my first ask on this new blog!! I'll answer these for Kris, my MC 🖤

2 what do your character’s clothes look like? his clothes tend to be on the shabbier side, he wears things until they're rags. he likes to wear androgynous/femme looks with warm colors and loud patterns. a brown bomber jacket is one of their oldest and most favorite pieces of clothing, they are never without it. unless they're committing crimes of course, when they opt for all blacks.

3 does your character wear jewelry? not as a general rule, maybe the occasional leather cuff but overall he's not that into shiny things. he would also lose small things like rings or earrings way too easily.

9 what style ___core does/would your character wear? (i.e. cottagecore, fairycore, etc. here's a list of aesthetic cores) this is a tough one for me to answer, I don't have a finger on the pulse of the -cores lol, but I'd say a combination of thriftcore and queercore for what he wears, although feralcore sounds very suiting for them generally speaking

send me an ask about my characters' fashion!

[noblebs]

NIEVE O'CONNELL

she/her - 39 - human - private investigator

Locking the door behind herself and surveying the room stands a square-jawed white woman with dull black hair pulled back tight enough to be painted on. She wears a trim gray pantsuit with creases almost as rigidly pressed as her lips. “Oh, dammit,” Kris sighs and steps out into her view. Her breath hisses sharp through her teeth, then her brow hardens. “For f—Vincent, of course. Of course it’s you. What in every hell are you doing here?” “Aw, I’ve missed you too.” Kris tucks their hands in their pockets, making a pointed effort to look casual and unconcerned. “I’m here for a friend. Who’s paying you to give a damn?” Nieve O’Connell, private investigator and the proverbial side for Kris to be a thorn in, breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth. “Santos’ daughter and son-in-law. What you should be more concerned with is that on the way here I heard reports of a B&E on the police scanner, a cruiser is on the way right now. I thought you at least had enough common sense not to break in somewhere in broad daylight.” Kris grimaces. “You still listen to a police scanner?” He waves his hand in dismissal before she has a chance to answer. “Whatever. If you’re staying, I’m staying.”

Nieve's tag Ashgrove