#i write stuff

[sunlitlemonade]

leave me bleeding (it was years ago) by sunlitlemonade for @ashrayus

He was not in his Red Hood get-up and the boyish face, rigid and despondent, was unfamiliar. But his eyes glistened blue and curls framed his jaw softly.

Something instinctual decreed that this was Jason.

A 27 year old Dick Grayson encounters 17 year old Lost Days Era Jason.

[xxiwritethingsxx]

Ten Minutes: The Most Dangerous Writing Prompt Generator

He stared hard at the ground as he tried to recall his attacker, and began describing,

"It was tall." Lukas frowns. "Much taller than any human has the right to be." He knew that the cops didn't believe him. He could see the skeptic looks on their faces.

"Explain that for us. What do you mean exactly?" The male cop asked. When the police arrived on scene, Lukas remembers thinking the male one was unnaturally attractive, or perhaps unfairly was the correct word. Now Lukas couldn't help but grimace at the belittling tone the man used.

"You know what I mean." He shot back, earning a warning glare from both officers. "It wasn't human. It couldn't have been. Easily taller than that light post over there. Just as skinny too. And it didn't speak any language I've ever known to exist. It just screeked and clicked. Like it was trying to find me." Lukas paused. "Echolocation, I think. Please you have to believe me. It took my friend." The officers' faces lit up.

"Your friend? What do they look like?"

Lukas sighed. Finally, we're getting somewhere. "Her name is Gigi. She's got jet black hair with purple hightlights. She's real skinny. Umm… pretty tall though." He raised his hand about an inch above his head. "Comes to about here. She was the one who drove us out here. That's her car over there."

"And why were you two out here past the city curfew?" The female officer raised a brow.

"Seriously? Are you blaming us right now?" Lukas's voice raised in pitch and volume. The male officer shook his head, glaring at his partner.

"Of course not." He said, clearly trying to defuse the now messy situtation. "We're just trying to understand. Maybe there's some kind of motive behind this."

"There's not motive! My friend was just taken by some monster! If you aren't going to do anything about that, you can find me someone that will!"

[justsolbtw]

hi I'm Sol I'm new I don't know how to use this BUT HEEYYY I LIKE GUAPODUO/SPIDERBIT AND I WRITE STUFF HOW YALL DOING :D

also I'm brazilian, aroace and use all pronouns lesgooooooooo

[gordonfreemanspussy]

absolute gold in my drafts.

[justsasuke]

A few months ago it occurred to me that because the Uchiha were killed so early there's so much that Sasuke didn't get to learn about their traditions, habits, culture, etc. I started wondering what it would look like if Sasuke hadn't learned to wear those arm covers from his family and that it was something he had to discover on his own. What kind of impact would that have on him? How would that affect him as a child vs. when he's a little older? How would looking at those scars make him feel? It seems like it would be such a simple, no-big-deal thing but there's no way it didn't affect him at all, right? I may have put too much thought into it and made it something it’s not but in any case this fic-let thing is the exploration of those ideas... (it's also a small exploration of Juugo and Sasuke's relationship and how Juugo quietly observes and notices things that go unseen and unfelt by others but never pushes Sasuke to open up or tell him anything.)

.

.

Juugo’s calluses are rough against Sasuke’s skin as he carefully spreads ointment that’s too cold on Sasuke’s bruised body.

Everything aches. Sasuke is zoned out.  He needs a distraction from the other nin’s touch but the only thing to look at in the room besides the wall is the single lamp that Juugo came in with.  So Sasuke looks at nothing instead, unfocusing his vision until all he can see is a blur.  The indistinguishable shapes and how they’re melting together aren’t enough to distract him from anything.  

Juugo’s touch is jarring against his skin, not because of the callouses, but because of how gentle his movements are. There’s a large gash on Sasuke’s forearm and elbow where he had used it to cushion a fall against a patch of gravel in the dirt.  Juugo’s hands make their way there and so does his touch.  the larger nin has to shift to the side so he can reach it and as he does he enters Sasuke’s peripheral vision. Even with his gaze unfocused Sasuke can see the shadow of Juugo now so he closes his eyes. Juugo spreads some ointment, still cold but getting warmer onto the scrape.  The sting is enough of a distraction, it burns awfully. Sasuke draws in a controlled breath through his nose, holding it before exhaling slowly.  The sharp pain feels like it’s reaching his bones. He doesn’t notice when Juugo suddenly stills. He does notice, unwillingly so, when calloused fingers brush over his forearm down to his wrist.  There is no ointment this time.  He knows because the touch is warm. Juugo’s hand stills and because of the sudden stillness Sasuke opens his eyes.  Everything is in focus now.  He’s never been able to open his eyes to a blur when they weren’t fogged with tears or blood. Juugo is looking at Sasuke’s forearm, examining the pale skin that’s littered with hundreds of tiny scars like stars thrown carelessly into a polluted night sky.  The scars are burn marks.  Left by thousands of embers blown back by the wind from hundreds of jutsu cast.  Some in practice, most in desperation to live. Sasuke shifts to take his arm back.  He doesn’t want it to be looked at, not by anyone who knows more of him than just his name.  He had worn the scars openly when he was a child in front of people who didn’t know him.  He’d thought they made him look strong, that they were evidence of the blood that ran through his veins.  He knows better now. Juugo’s grip isn’t loose enough for him to easily pull away. The large nin runs his thumb over and over across a particularly large mark inches above Sasuke’s wrist.  It’s one of the largest ones. 

When he’d shown up to class with it untreated, still raw and burning from the night before, a classmate who would never make it to Genin had acted like he’d come back from battle.  He had been so proud that day. The scar is smaller than the pad of Juugo’s thumb. Sasuke is suddenly conscious of the fact that he’s stripped to the waist, shirt on the floor next to him, and how exposed it makes him. He had willingly let Juugo remove the garment.  Had let the man unguard him without a second thought, knowing it was necessary to give Juugo access to the wounds that needed attention. He had prepared himself for that much vulnerability.  He hadn’t thought about what else he had given Juugo access to. “Sasuke…” Juugo hesitates.  Sasuke wants to close his eyes again but he knows he can’t block out sound with darkness.  

He keeps his eyes open, and because there’s nothing to look at he looks at the contrast of Juugo’s tanned skin pressed against his pale wrist. There’s a scar on the back of Juugo’s hand, Sasuke notices for the first time, starting where his thumb joins his palm and ending a few centimeters above the back of his wrist.  It must have been a deep cut because even healed it’s a shallow trench.   It’s much larger than any of the scars scattered across his own arms up to his elbows and probably holds infinitely more meaning and yet Juugo is examining him and his scars as if he’s the one that means something. As if his scars are from something deeper than childhood stupidity.

“Sasuke…”

There’s a question in the syllables Juugo is speaking that sound like his name.

Sasuke wishes he understood what it was.

He glances up at Juugo, searching for a clue in the other man’s face.  There’s nothing. “Is this from fireball jutsu?”  Juugo’s question is softer than his hands were on Sasuke’s skin minutes earlier. Sasuke feels it then.  The sharp pang of shame.  It’s not from fireball jutsu, he thinks bitterly.  It’s from a child who knew nothing but had been trying to be a man. He pulls his arm back, this time with enough force that Juugo has to let go. He doesn’t want Juugo examining him if it means examining his past too. 

“I’m sorry” Juugo whispers.  There’s a crack in his voice. It surprises Sasuke so he looks up at him. He wishes he hadn’t. Juugo is watching him carefully.  His eyes look so sad.  Sasuke hates that he can’t understand what Juugo is even sorry for.

He shakes his head. “I used to not wear coverings on my arms” He explains simply. 

He doesn’t tell Juugo that it’s because he didn’t know he was supposed to.  That having burn marks was the sign of an amateur, proof that he was an orphan who would never know enough about his family to ever truly belong. That each scar meant he had learned to make fire before he learned to protect himself from it.

[aibari]

fic: petal and vine

They dug him out of the earth in spring. He came awake slowly, like any vine unfurling from the dirt. Awareness shifted, drop to trickle to shallow stream: the rich soil gave way in pieces. There were voices above him. Their shadows blocked the sky. And then, when they moved away, the sun - It hit him like a sigh. He had his first thought, half finished: I really missed -

OR: Shen Qingqiu wakes up in his plant body after Huayue City. There is only one problem: Memory loss.

Written for the Scum Villain Winter Fanfic Exchange V for cinnamonsnaps!

(read on ao3)

[desertfangs]

I finally, very belatedly caught up on replying to comments for my fic Look Right Through. Thanks so much to everyone who read my experimental plotty fic/kind of murder mystery at Trinity Gate, and a thinly veiled excuse to get Marius/Armand/Daniel cuddling as much as possible. I appreciate you coming along on this weird little journey with me.

Sorry it took me so long, moving and my work being busy really ate up all of July, but work is slowing down and I'm done moving so I'm excited to catch up on reading all the fic I've missed and also writing some new stuff now that I have time and bandwith again! 💖

[rubiaryutheroyal]

Team Cetra Gang Represent! ✊️

I know so little about Ever Crisis, but...

I'm so glad I created not one but two cousins for Aerith. These four are officially a whole gang in my book.

Maybe I should commission more art. Maybe Ruby can be dressed as Majima and Rubia as Kiryu as a fun Yakuza crossover.

Profile art of Aerith & Zack from Square Enix's official EC site (for April Fool's):

OC artwork (Ruby & Rubia) by my bestie @watasemasaru !

I'm going to go back into hiding for the rest of the day to avoid any more pranks. See ya'll for the next chapter update of Code Radiant coming next week, hopefully by Tuesday.

[asweetsorroww]

A Cruel Coincidence

I wonder if it was mere coincidence— the curl of your letters matches hers. I should be thinking of her slanted laugh, but all I hear are your bony teeth and clean-cut remarks.

I should hold on to her neatly paired words, but instead, I cling to your scribbles and scrawls.

I would've stayed, maybe I could've saved myself, if only you'd balled your fists, or at least put up one scraggly fight.

Without the walls, a single tear would've been enough. Or maybe one last peck on the crest of the fall.

[bleucaesura]

Once again, I entered an international 100-word micro-fiction contest and I managed to make it through to the second round! HUZZAH! Anon and merriment abound! 😅

Thought maybe I'd share my entries.

Just sent in my second-round entry - and it'll be a few months before I know if I’ve made it to the 3rd. But fingers crossed.

ROUND TWO

Genre: Historical Fiction / Action: Shoving someone / Word: Establish

UNSHEATHED

The scullery maid cowered under the Prince’s gaze like a rabbit to a wolf.

He, an established Lothario. She, a virgin.

“Why do you shy away, pretty bird?” He advanced.

“I fear you’ll devour me.” She whispered. “That you’re a cruel man.”

His eyes lit with passion. He unsheathed his dagger and slid it up her bodice. Each stitch cut making her shiver with want.

Bodice torn, he grabbed her hips and pushed her against the battlement’s edge.

“Oh, my sweet.” He grabbed her chin, brushed his lips across hers and whispered.

“I am.”

And shoved her over the edge.

****

I barely squeaked in on this round - 😑 not a big fan of this genre. But whatever.

ROUND ONE

Genre: Ghost Story / Action: Putting ear against a wall / Word: Utter

FLICKER-LIGHTS

The ‘Flicker-lights’ appear in dark of forest nights.

Don’t be fooled to follow their lead.

Their beauty distracts before their feed.

You hadn’t listened.

Now you ran.

Heart racing. Blood pounding.

If you find yourself in their trap,

Never stop. Never turn back.

Find the home made all of stone and shut yourself in.

Press your ear up to the wall. Utter not a sound at all.

Until the dawn, your soul they’ll take…

There’s no light. The floor is moist. The stone is cold against your face.

You’re safe.

You sigh.

… for any sound your voice does make.

*****

Anywho that's all she wrote. 😅 *womp womp*

[sunlitlemonade]

how lonely to be something that nothing wants to kill - jason & dick | mature | 2k words [mind the tags]

There were blood drops dripping down his fingers to the ground. The puddle was big enough for it to have spread around more than half the tub. His breaths shuddered, they were shallow and waning. But he was breathing and Dick’s world centered around that.

[11ryu11]

i baked my heart into a pie.

i baked my heart into a pie.

And topped it off with berries.

it was tender, the crust a bit dry,

but it bled like red mulberry.

I served it hot,

with cream to accompany.

You thought

it tasted better in my company.

In your first bite

you savoured the taste

declaring it a rare delight,

you devoured in haste.

It dripped down your lips.

Maroon, with a high viscosity,

I wiped it with my fingertips,

you murmured a “sorry”.

You said it was rich and sweet,

A strangely addictive flavour,

you’d eat dozens in a heartbeat,

just to relish the flavour.

I’d bake you a dozen more,

But I only had one heart.

perhaps my soul would do

for the tart?

-ryu

[gordonfreemanspussy]

ok have this .

[usernamemybeloathed]

I DRABBLED, PEOPLE! I DID A THING*

*I know, not really a big deal. But it is to me, I'm new to all this. I still can't believe I write stuff now.

Anyway, here it is:

There was a reason he chose that drafty little hut on the beach to be his home. That view from his window, that vast ocean laden with promise and danger in equal measure. Ever changeable, no day was ever the same.

His favourite times? The beach during fall and winter. Dark, brooding skies that gobbled the stars and hid the moon. Or clear, crisp nights when the inky sky was reflected by the ocean, the moon illuminating the quiet spectacle below. Because that was when beach was at it's best. When it was quiet, when it was just himself. Alone.

[aibari]

participated in the mxtx remix challenge 2025 and was lucky enough to get to write for tshirt! I've been thinking about making a fan game for a while, so this is that. It's based on taken from behind in the chi yun cave, which is both very funny and occasionally pretty hot (difficult combo! you should read it!). The game is less hot, and also very silly. It's called

YOUR DATE NIGHT IS IN ANOTHER DUNGEON!

You play as Ning Yingying trying to find the perfect location for an upcoming minglingying date/kidnapping - but all the dungeons available are, uh. well. they have good bones, at least, though sometimes that's maybe a bit too literal.

In addition to the solo journaling rpg, this thing also includes a fic/playthrough of the game and three variations of the rpg for playing with a group.

I had a lot of fun putting this together, and it was great getting to spin off of tshirt's fic!