#multipchap

[seaemberthesecond]

I've got about 3 chapters of a jjk fic written up and I want to start posting because I'm going crazy keeping it in my docs but!!! It's not finished!!!

Should I just start posting or should I stick to my original plan and complete it first? Asdhfhdgsgs decisions decisions

[orchestrel]

girl help i just wrote 1.8k words for the wrong fic

[raayllum]

got tagged in the wip game by a few people w/ the challenge to tag someone for all your wips! however i have over 50+ wips / just oneshots planned (not including multipchap) so i'm just gonna share like my top 10 and then call it a day!

oneshots:

a different man / mirror traps: Lissa comes back to Katolis for her daughter’s wedding and meets her husband’s ghost. Or the "Lissa meets Callum" fic, probably a sorta sequel to this fic

providence: post-s5 divergent. A spell gone wrong traps Callum inside the mirror with Aaravos. 

the goal of living is to grow: After a love contained only to chaos and summers, Rayla and Callum experience the other seasons side by side. post-s6, planned to be like 20k, Rayla/Callum

just stand still: In Katolis, you come of age at sixteen; Ezran just misses his dad.

mama's boys: Sarai's sons grow up without her. Ezran&Callum

blinded: Miyana, and the Sunfire royal family. Miyana/Karim

nine days: It takes nine days for Harrow and Viren to reach the Storm Spire. Set pre-series and 3x06. Viren/Harrow

i asked you to be human: AU where Kasef makes different choices in s3, and lives.

being this young is art: Servants talk. Callum/Rayla dealing with court gossip

great responsiblity: Modern AU. Ezran is bitten by a radioactive spider when he’s fourteen years old. Trio & Ezran centric

why is it a monster: Ezran finds the mirror first. Canon divergent

multi-chap

virtues and vices: Slowly but surely, Soren and Opeli find their way. Soren/Opeli, 9 chapters

i did one thing right: Supporters of Viren’s ‘royal’ line were not so easily deterred, and now a twenty-year old Ezran has a choice to make: to either allow civil war, or to marry the old friend turned enemy threatening to topple his throne (the shadowy elf whispering in her ear notwithstanding). ? chapters, divergent post-s3, aged up Claudia/Ezran slowburn

sequel to "if time is money" (about 20ish chapters) scheduled for more focus post-s6 (Rayla and Tiadrin centric with a heavy serving of Runaan and Ethari)

[pbpsbff]

🤔

gonna be honest i forgot i rbed that ask game and thought you were just in my inbox questioning me (wouldn't it be rlly funny if that was actually the case). anyway

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

mmm i have this idea in mind for like a multipchap kidnapped peter parker fic that i just. have not acted on because i'm so lazy but i think about it all the time and i have all these ideas and one day i might actually start it

also a flash/peter fic??? that i came up with 2 nights ago. it's been haunting me. i think peter is so great as a character because he has so many people u can take as love interests and him and flash is just OUGH its an interesting dynamic and im going insane okay thank u

[clintashaotp]

Damaged: Chapter One

Chapter note: I hope you guys like the first chapter! No TWs. Enjoy :)

862 Words

The sun beats down on the back of Clint Barton’s neck, and he adjusts his baseball cap over his eyes. Their tour guide is less than inspiring, and the monotonous drone of information combined with the heat makes his brain a little less than focused.

“Welcome to SHIELD Academy, one of the most prestigious universities in the country. My name’s Carly, and I’ll be your guide for today’s tour,” the blonde smiles blandly at the group. Clint rolls his eyes at her words. Every single college he’s toured so far as boasted that it’s one of the best schools in the United States, but after about the fourth or fifth tour he’s stopped paying attention when the schools start listing their accomplishments.

It doesn’t matter, anyways. Clint knows that even if he applies he probably won’t get in. College is a pipe dream. Barney told him not to come, but Clint has a habit of not listening to people, so maybe he’s here partly out of spite. Whatever the reason, here he is, listening to a boring tour guide ramble about the school’s extensive ROTC program.

The tour group for SHIELD Academy is much smaller than other tours he’s been on, and instead of listening to Carly drone on about the school history, he finds himself looking around the group at the people there. SHIELD is far from a typical school, and Clint wasn’t very surprised parents were taken on a seperate tour from the students. It wasn’t really a problem for him, as he’d gone solo to all his tour so far. But with the reduced size, the group is only about thirty other applicants.

A few kids stand out to him. A kid stands in the front, his dark brown hair ruffled in front of his face, sunglasses covering his eyes. Clint can tell from the way he’s standing that he’s one of the pretentious kids, and Clint just rolls her eyes internally, glancing around at the next kid.

A blonde stands at the front of the group, arms crossed, paying close attention to their tour guide’s words. Clint would automatically assume he was a nerd if it weren’t for the prominent muscles in his arms and back. Maybe a jock? But a jock wouldn’t really care about the tour guide’s speech, so probably somewhere in between. The kids wearing an American flag baseball cap, and Clint almost laughs. Obviously some kind of patriot freak.

Clint sighs, letting his eyes continue to wander before settling on the most interesting person in the crowd. She’s a good few inches shorter than him, with flaming red hair and a bored expression, but there’s something about her face that makes Clint pause. She somehow looks like she cares and doesn’t care at the same time, and Clint frowns. What about her makes her so interesting? He wonders to herself.

“...continue with me, to the Neuroscience lab,” the tour guide waves his hand and the group starts moving, but Clint can’t tear his eyes off the mystery girl.

He’s so focused on examining her face that when he attempts to follow the rest of the group down the path, he trips over his own feet and stumbles, flinging his arms out to try to break his fall with a far from graceful yelp of surprise. He lands unceremoniously on his ass, and he groans, feeling the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. Before he can stand, a petite hand enters his line of vision, and he looks up to see the redhead offering him a hand up with a surprised smile. He takes it awkwardly, standing to find the rest of the tour group staringt him.

“I’m good,” he says awkwardly, giving the group thumbs up and cringing inwardly. He turns to thank the girl with an awkward grimace and finds her smirking at him, her emerald green eyes flashing in the sun.

“You alright there?” she has a perfect smile, Clint notes, and he feels heat creeping into his cheeks. Dammit, I don’t blush, he curses himself.

“Um, yeah, thanks,” he mutters, and begins to follow the group up the path towards the next building.

“Graceful,” the girl chuckles, and Clint wants to punch her in the face and ask her for her number at the same time. He resists both urges and settles for walking a bit faster, but she just speeds up to match his pace.

“Thanks so much,” he rolls her eyes at her, “It comes with years of practice of falling on my face.”

The girl lets out a loud laugh--a beautiful laugh, Clint notes--and Clint chastises himself. You aren’t falling for a girl you’ve never met after just tripping over your own feet, for god’s sakes.

“My name’s Natasha,” she offers, and Clint just huffs. “Alright, mystery boy, don’t tell me your name.”

He doesn’t reply, speeding up a bit to try to distance herself from her. Not now. Save the crushes for later, he shakes his head at himself.

“I saw you staring,” Natasha calls after him, and he breaks into a jog to catch up with the group, the heat in his cheeks an evident blush.

...

...

Tag list:

@written-writer @natasha-barton @baker151910 @crafting-alchemist @spacenerd-universe @kyrri0 @imcaptainobviousmate

[cosmicmadwoman]

Adam and Eve Chapter Three: Friends Keep Promises

Summary:Polly wants Cheryl to move in with the Coopers and Archie asks Jughead a favor.

Words Count: 2602

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

There was a tangible stillness in the trailer. Both Jughead and Betty laid naked on the couch, the itchy material making their skin burn and sweat. The two had just caught a glimpse of a hollow darkness inside them that seemed bleaker than the gray walls of FP’s trailer. Betty grabbed a puke colored orange blanket from the arm of the couch and wrapped it around her nakedness, plus her boyfriend’s Southside Serpent jacket, offering a spot for Jughead with her right arm outstretched. His knees were held up to his chest and he looked frightened. He glanced dryly at her invitation and shook his head.

“What we did was weird and scary,” Jughead spoke up. He opted not to look at Betty until she takes his chin in her hand and gently pulled him into a featherlight kiss.

“But wasn’t it thrilling?” Betty’s soft voice echoed with ashamed excitement.

Jughead felt his lips involuntarily curl into a shy smile, looking anywhere but his girlfriend’s eyes. She was right, there was nothing in this world that compared, in his short 16 years in the world anyway, than engaging in intimate danger with Betty; so fascinating and wrong. Maybe they weren’t meant to be right. Nothing that has happened since July 4th had been ‘right.’ That was how Riverdale was now. That was how Betty and Jughead were now.

Betty presented the space under her blanket for Jughead again. He gladly snuggled up against her this time. The pony-tailed blonde smirked coyly as she realized his signature beanie had been perched upon his head the whole time they had sex.

“I feel like even when I was so hopelessly and stupidly in love with Archie, I was always intrigued by you,” Betty mused as she leaned her sweaty head on Jughead’s bare chest. “The way you didn’t care what people about you while still caring so much about people. You’re so… human. When everything else in this dumb town is primped and polished and plastic you live and breathe and cry and laugh and scream. It’s almost enchanting.”

A pause settled over the room before Jughead said, “Wow. I guess I I don’t know what to say.”

“Just know that I love you,” Betty chirped with a peck on the cheek. “As much as I would love to stay here with you forever, I should get home. I’m surprised Mom hasn’t called already. Alice Cooper must have signed up for coffee hour again.”

Betty checked her phone and saw the screen display 12:31pm.

“It’s only 12:30? This has been the longest day of my life.”

“You’re telling me,” Jughead scuffed, but with an airy laugh.

Betty shed Jughead’s leather jacket to replace it with her own clothes. She had never been naked so often in her life. Before Veronica came to town, Kevin was the only person she felt comfortable changing in front of. She used to secretly wished Archie was peering at her through the slits in his window shade, but now that felt so juvenile. Jughead made her feel like a woman, a desirable woman, when she was so used to rejection from Archie and being treated like an infant by her mother. She felt the weight of her ponytail on her back and it suddenly felt out of place there, like an old man placing an unwanted hand on the back of her neck. She looked at the two guns on the couch, one hers and one his. It reminded her of those silly his and hers towels people get as wedding gifts. She had half the mind to bedazzle hers with pink jewels. She giggled at the juxtaposition in her head.

Jughead rose from his place on the stain spotted sofa and wrapped his naked body around her clothed onr. He left little kisses and licks on the side of her neck, causing the blonde to lose focus for a moment.

“You should probably check in with your foster parents,” Betty let out with unsteady breaths.

The Jones boy sighed  and moved from Betty’s neck. He had met them briefly, they were nice people and all, by they didn’t have much room for Jughead and they other children they fostered as well as their own biological son. The littler kids needed to be there, have guidance and protection, but he could take care of himself just fine. He had the trailer and whatever FP left. He would probably even have water and electricity paid for until the end of the month and with the money coming in from working with the Serpents, he could manage all by himself. The foster family was just a pony show for the state. The Carters, his foster family, had a zoo of people; they probably didn’t even notice he hadn’t been around. Betty was right though, he should still check in.

“I would like to meet them,” Betty added.

“Maybe,” Jughead said and kissed her rosy cheek. 

“I better,” Betty gave him a playful swat on the butt and opened the heavy metal door. She looked back for a second, absorbing the sight of her boyfriend standing stark naked with nothing but a cockeyed beanie on his head. She smiled warmly and went outside.

--------

Betty crept in the house to find her very pregnant sister caressing her bulging stomach. Betty was constantly aware of the town’s obsession with the new Blossom twins. They were special, certainly, ‘purely Blossom’ Penelope had called it, but Betty couldn’t help but think there was something else to the story of her nieces or nephews.

The younger blonde looked away from her sister. The way Polly had a blank smile stretched to either side of her face as she stroked her body irked her. Betty attempted to sneak past and up to her room to get on the homework she uncharacteristically neglected, but Polly stopped her with, “You’re lucky mom and dad had to rush to the Registrar. Big story on Archie’s dad, but I’m sure you’ve already heard  that.”

“I have,” Betty answered, motionless.

“Come sit, Sis,” Polly patted the seat next to her.

Betty sat carefully, her back stiff and arms held tightly to her side. Polly and her and reconnected once she rescued her from the Sisters of Quiet Mercy, but it seemed her limited time at Thornhill, even undercover, seemed to give her the creepy friendliness that the Blossoms inherited.

“Thornhill is in ashes,” she said blankly.

“What?” Betty jolted up and clenched her fists until she felt blood. She relaxed them instantly, regretting giving into the impulse to harm herself. The Cooper girls did not show emotions outwardly, they kept it inside. But Betty’s not a robot, her emotions boil and erupt. So instead of breaking her cool, she projects the pain onto herself. No one can live like that forever. That’s why she was so inspired when her mother threw a brick through the Registrar's window; a Cooper woman was allowed to feel again, just to be disappointed when she took her dad back in the end. Betty wiped her hands on her pants and left streaks of blood there. She hoped Polly didn’t notice.

“Cheryl called this morning from some fancy hotel in town. She wanted to purify the place she told me,” Polly explained. Betty noticed the tell-tale glint in her eyes, Polly was upset. “That was the last place Jason called home.”

Tears were falling from her eyes now. It was an ugly hysterical cry that left her not burying her face in her hands, but looking towards the ceiling as if she was begging Jason to come down from his pillowy cloud  and fix everything. Betty sat down next to her and held Polly’s quivering hands.

“That’s all it is. A house. The thing that made Thornhill Jason’s home was Jason,” Betty said softly to her fragile sister.

Polly nodded, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her lavender cardigan, trying to pull herself together.

“Maybe we should have Cheryl, Penelope and Grandma Rose live with us while they look for another place,” Polly offered.

Was Polly hallucinating? Was there a something a little special slipped into the wafer cookies during coffee hour at church? For one, the remaining Blossoms would not feel comfortable in an average colonial, let alone accept an invitation from the Coopers. Who, she guessed, were also Blossoms. What the hell was wrong with this town?

“Polly, that is very sweet, but completely out of the realm of possibility,” Betty said as gently as she was able.

“Maybe at least Cheryl can stay. I know Jason would want me to take care of her.”

“Where would we put her?”

“She can sleep in my room,” Polly proposed.

“Ask Mom and Dad I guess,” Betty gave up and started to go for her room.

“You won’t even see her. You’ll be off with Jughead anyway,” Polly said. It could have been just a friendly older sister teasing moment, but the heaviness in Polly’s voice told Betty it wasn’t. It was more of an accusation. Was Polly jealous? Did she want her to spend time at home?

“He is my boyfriend….”

“Sure,” was all Polly said before quickly ending the conversation by pulling out her cell phone.

Betty climbed the beige carpeted stairs to her room and felt the weight of the gun in her bag. She needed somewhere to hide it. Her mother still looked through her things, for her diary for example, so it had to be super hidden. All traditional hiding places were out of the question, like under the bed or in the sock drawer. There was one place Alice would never think of though. A place she thought was safe from debauchery. Betty hid the gun in her pile of stuffed animals hung from a corner hammock on the wall on the right side of her room. She patted the head of her old teddy bear, Mr. Cuddles, and told him to keep her secret safe.

-----

Jughead was sleeping and still naked on the couch when he heard a knock of the steel trailer door. He was startled awake and looked quickly to his gun, debating if he should wield it or hide it. She chose the later as she slipped the piece under the couch cushions with the echoing sound of the door still pounding.

“Yeah, one sec,” he grumbled to the guest on the other side. He imagined it was Hack Saw and was too tired to get into the Serpent business just yet. The beanie clad boy tugged on his jeans, sans underwear and pulled the door open, pleasantly surprised to see his redheaded friend. His eyes were cast down.

“Can I come in?”  When Archie looked up, his blue eyes were bloodshot.

“Of course, man,” Jughead moved to the side and let him in.

Archie went straight to the couch and plopped down. Jughead winced, knowing that if Archie had an inkling of what had just happened on it he would burn it to ugly 1970’s upholstery ash.

“So you’re a Serpent now,” Archie began.

“They said they’d look out for me, yeah,” Jughead answered.

“Are you doing work for them?” Archie asked, his thick eyebrows furrowed incredulously.

“I kinda have to. I’m just getting bar supplies,” the black haired boy shrugged. This felt like a questionnaire and he didn’t want any part of it. Jughead thought it was odd he wasn’t at the hospital with Fred, but maybe he was distracting himself by interrogating Jughead. He wasn’t heartless, he would do whatever Archie needed to feel better. And if that meant pummeling him in the chest like Cheryl did, then so be it. However, Archie pummeling his chest would be a lot more painful.

“Illgeally?”

“Well, yeah. I’m sorry Arch, is everything alright?” Jughead asked.

Archie bolted upright and took one large step toward Jughead, pinning him against the old island counter.

“No! Nothing is alright! My dad is dead! He died two hours ago!” Archie’s yelled with his fists and jaw clenched tightly.

A wave of everything crashed over both boys as the omission was out in the air, swirling around both of them inside the four walls of the trailer. Jughead was the first person Archie told. He was his oldest friend and Archie knew, despite his possible Benedict Arnold behavior, Jughead loved Fred too. The growing men turned into the little boys that used to play in the sandbox in the Andrews’ back yard, and sobbed in each other’s arms. There were tears of apology, heartbreak, understanding and fear for the unknown future. They settled down and sat on the couch together in silence.

“I came by because I need to ask you something,” Archie said, finally breaking the choking silence.

“Anything, Archie,” Jughead said with every ounce of serenity left  in his bitter body.

“Kill the man that killed my father,” Archie requested his face serious and unwavering.

Jughead was speechless. He was a Serpent now, yes, but he wasn’t a hitman. He had planned to use his connections with the Serpents to hopefully gather some intel on the shooting, but he hadn’t come up with a plan for what to do if he ever found out.

“Even if it’s a fell snake,” Archie added.

Jughead fell into investigative journalism in light of Jason’s murder and began to thrive on a thrill of uncovering things people wanted to stay buried. The mission was intriguing, but nonetheless, this was several steps beyond playing Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys with his girlfriend. This was murder. A righteous murder most likely, but still murder. He found himself wanting to consult Betty first. What a silly question to ask your girlfriend. Should I tell my best friend that yes, I will find and kill the man that killed your father? In a roundabout way he felt like Liam Neeson. A part of him was also annoyed that Archie would just assume that now he was a Serpent, he was a complete criminal. Another example of how Archie doesn’t see life in technicolor,but black and white.

“I’ll work to figure it out, of course, but killing someone? Could I even do that? Could you?” Jughead’s voice strained against his throat.

“I never could. I wish I could… but you’re the next best thing. He loved you like a son, too. One of us needs to do this. I saw that look in your eye when you punched Chuck,” Archie looked at him with abnormally clouded eyes.

Jughead felt uncomfortable with his assertion, “You think I could kill someone? You think I’m that psycho serial killer, Donnie Darko, Edward Scissorhands bullshit Reggie always calls me?”

“You would be surprised what anyone would do if they’re pushed far enough,” Archie said knowingly. Jughead wondered if he was talking from experience.

“I will find him. That, I promise, Archibald,” Jughead said, draping an awkward arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry I blew up at you earlier, Jug. I’m trying to understand,” Archie admitted.

Jughead just nodded. That was enough for him.Archie was trying.

“I need to get home to my mom,” Archie said, moving to the door.

“How is she?” Jughead asked.

“As good as she can be I guess.”

“Tell her I’m thinking of her.”

“Sure,” Archie said as he closed the front door.

Jughead hadn’t notice how puffy and tired his eyes were until he closed them, trying to envision himself holding a gun to a man’s head, much like how Clifford Blossom did to his son last summer, and actually pulling the trigger.

[katsukikitten]

Synopsis: Sold at a young age to the Okasan of a large hostess club you had a life time of debit to repay. The worst part? It wasn’t even yours. The second you’re old enough you’re thrown to the wolves but little do they know that you bite back. After ten grueling years you’re finally seeing a dent in your debt. But your Saturn return in your 28th year doesn’t take too kindly to you, not that life ever did, and you find yourself indebted to an even bigger monster.

Warnings: Choking and violence.

A/N, WC : Not sure if this will be a multipchap or if this is simply a one shot, 1512

Master List: Here

Flashing another smile you pour a heavy handed drink into the already drunk man's glass.

 His name? 

Well it didn't fucking matter to you. Only his wallet did as he forked up thousands and thousands just to sit with the likes of you. For you to smile, pour his drink, and laugh at his stupid fucking jokes. 

Although he was your best customer he was still too much unless you had him pissing himself drunk. His cologne was always too heavy and he was twice your age. Not that a silver fox wouldn't do, there was just a difference between a fine wine and an over oxidized grape juice. He will always be the latter, bloated in a manner from far too much smoke, drink and fast women. He talked a big game about his even "bigger” dick but you questioned if he could even get it up. 

"Nekomata," A whisper of your stage name. A joke and promise that you would not be crossed. Most men thought it funny or ironic that you'd name yourself after a Yokai but those that pressed their luck quickly found their houses or apartments up in flames. Sometimes figuratively when you would call their wives crying, pretending to be pregnant and needing money to make it all go away. 

And other times literally. 

It depended on your mood. 

Most men don't give the name a second thought because there was no way a face with such a pretty cat smile could be such a malicious beast. To them you were a house cat at best, a Kitten, they often called you and you were fine with them making that assumption. 

Because who would ever think a Kitten would leave a man in utter shambles. 

You turn to face your fellow hostess, Sakura, a sugary sweet type that worked on 95% of the male and female population. She looks a bit worried, her brows pinched upward that has your's furrow. 

"Okasan says I'm to take over for Hadashi-sama…you have a special request."

"Fuck off Sakura." Your manicured black nails bite into her wrist in warning, "This bloated pig has the fattest pockets." 

"I promise you I'm not playing any games." She leans closer, her sticky glossed lips a breath from your ear as she barely whispers, "A syndicate member, the one with tattooed hands." 

"Who?" You bark, and the man beside you giggles. 

"I get two pretty broads now." 

"Oh no Hadashi-san. It'll just be me Sakura. I'm taking over for our feisty member." Sakura says sweetly, topping off his drink as you rise, adjusting the strap of your small designer purse. You look to the shadows and see Okasan standing by the entrance of the VIP room, waiting to give you a lecture you were sure. You sigh, heels clacking against the expensive floor as you approach. 

Okasan is older, much older. Probably wiser but you'd never admit it. You hate a love hate relationship with this woman, as she did you. Sometimes you felt like her real daughter and she felt like your real mother. 

"Mama." You huff and she fusses over your skin tight black dress. Adjusting the halter strap and taping back the slit on your thigh so it showed off more skin. 

"Listen to me." She's using her serious voice and you meet her eyes, "This man works for the organization that keeps us safe. You're to keep him entertained and happy." 

"Wouldn't Sakura be better suited for this?" You look over at the other star hostess and her stunning pink hair. She was the epitome of femininity, soft and easy going while you were here, the complete opposite. The Devil to her a

Angel. 

She touches up your blood lipstick before she holds her fingers under your chin. 

"You think I didn't suggest her first?" She lets out a breath, her sharp tone almost hides her fear as she adds, "Besides, he asked for you by name.

With that she walks away gracefully in her old kimono. Looking every bit in charge and untouchable. Quickly you take a sharp inhale, fingers ghosting over the knife on the thigh opposite from the slit before you open the doors to the low lit room. The plush door shuts behind you and the roar of the open seating area with an endless amount of couches cuts off, leaving you with soft ambient music and lingering smoke. 

A large man sits in the middle of the black couch on the far wall, the jacket of his suit is discarded on the arm as he nurses a four fingered glass of whisky. Neat. 

You notice the tattoos on his hands immediately, Sin and Punishment in deep ink as his other hand holds a dying cigarette. He looks you over the brim of his glasses like a predator watching prey from tall grass. 

He'd soon find out you were no lamb he was hunting. 

Far fucking from him. 

Still you act the part, swaying your hips the way any man likes before you plop onto his lap. Like a cat your digits find the golden chain of his earning, fingering the jewelry as you smile. 

"Do I get a name, Handsome?" You take the whisky from his hands and take a huge swallow before you wink, "It's only fair since you know mine." 

He's relaxed beneath your comfortable weight but that shouldn't be confused with unguarded. You knew his type, he was the kind of man who needed someone a bit rough around the edges. Someone who'd put up some fight before they gave in to give him what he wanted. 

Since it was quite obvious he could have anything he wanted, glaringly obvious. What with his diamond encrusted tie clip and cufflinks. Your fingers burn to pocket those for later. He tilts his head and slowly a cat smile of his own blossoms on his handsome features. 

"Hanma Shuji." He gives his full name and you giggle. Half forced, half genuine as his dangerous air and deep voice send a jolt of excitement to your gut. 

What was with you and wanting to play with fire? 

His free hand that once held whisky comes around your waist to rest on your upper thigh. On the exposed skin from the slit on your long evening gown. 

Fuck he loved your legs. They looked powerful and perfect. He could just make out the swirling flowers in the dim light. 

You offer him his drink, tilting the glass to his lips and surprisingly he leans forward to take a sip. Carefully you tip the liquid into his mouth and watch his Adams apple bob. 

"Thank you, Koneko." 

"Nekomata." You correct sweetly. His golden eyes sparkle with curiosity, his face inches from your ear. 

"Like the Yokai? Maybe that does suit you better." His hands grip your thigh tightly, too tightly and you wonder if you'll bruise. His flirty voice drops down to a deadly tone as he adds, "So it was your fiery forked tail that set my best sniper's house ablaze?" 

Slowly you look at him from the corner of your eye keeping a collected face. 

"I'm not sure what you're talking about." You purr, "Although a Nekomata is never wrong with her judgment." 

He stubs out his cigarette on the back of the couch cushion before flicking the butt across the room. 

"Takes a demon to see a demon doesn't it?" He laughs mirthlessly, taking Punishment and wrapping it around your throat. He's quick to get up and slam you into the couch. All his weight over you now as he squeezes and squeezes. Black blossoms beneath his touch and he decides that it's the perfect shade for you as he smiles in your face. You claw at his his forearm, mind racing as you debate to use your last resort. 

"Next time think twice before you charr up my best gunner." He's inches from your face and your mind swirls with fear. With burning hot rage from how he looks at you. 

Like he's enjoying the way you look pinned beneath him. Powerless. 

Weak. 

You shimmy your hand to your thigh and quickly produce your small blade, sinking it into the meat of his side. His eyes go wide with shock before a genuine snarl paints his features. 

He can't believe you actually tired. Dared to defy him, the Reaper. Originally he was just going to leave you with a bruised throat, or maybe a bruised larynx at worst but now.

Now he was going to make sure you passed out and that you wouldn't be able to speak for a week at best. 

He throws his elbow against your wrist, pinning your arm just right and you drop the knife in your weakening grip. 

Your vision begins to creep in from all sides before it fades to black while golden eyes burn into your retinas. 

That was four days ago and now you find yourself standing in front of Hanma Shuji's modern mansion with tall glass windows. 

An armful of Molotov cocktails with one burning hot in your right hand. 

[i-loves-my-lemurs]

2, 5 and 24 :D

(2) What am I most looking forward to writing, future project, ect?

Well, I am currently working on something that resembles a panchulien multipchap (yay), I've wanted to write something big about this ship for a looong while. Though don't start celebrating just yet, I want to get the plot fully fleshed out and draft every chapter before I start releasing parts, I've had a history with abandoned multichaps for other fandoms and I don't want that to happen here. But I'm working on it!

In the near future... I have some plans for a Ted centric oneshot, and something small for Sugarbuns too, but I have no idea when I'll get round to finishing that!

(5) What character do I most identify with?

Pancho. Which may seem weird considering the way I write him a lot of the time, but yeah I tend to identify with his anxieties. Most of the time I relate most strongly to the main character of that particular story, which tends to be Panchy more often than not.

(24) Would you say your writing has changed over time?

Most definitely, I've been writing for years and some of the stuff from my earlier days is crap. I've learnt new techniques and styles over time and now I can confidently say my writing is better than it was when I wrote my first fanfic. If you mean within this particular fandom, eeehhhh, I have a feeling the characters are getting less in c over time tbh

[zeldainhiding]

jasmine tea and relearning how to live

I wrote a new fic! After finishing A:TLA, I wanted some self-indulgent, found-family-esque postcanon to keep me going... ft. a game called tea-pong, Zuko and Toph’s solo adventure, “bro-time” with Sokka and Zuko, and lots of other little joys

summary: Zuko’s finally accepted his place in the world – now it’s time to accept his place among his friends.

Zuko knows that Uncle Iroh’s favourite time in all the world is the two nights a week that the Jasmine Dragon is taken over by the rowdy warmth of team Avatar (as Sokka still occasionally insists on calling them, and which, much to his chagrin, Zuko has ended up adopting). His Uncle has never said it aloud, but Zuko is starting to get better at understanding the things said to him without words.

multipchap! read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26731066

The setting sun bleeds a soft, glowy orange over the spiked black roofs of the Fire Palace, and Zuko heaves a heavy sigh.

‘It’s been a long day,’ Aang agrees, slumping down onto the veranda tiles and waterbending the light sheen of sweat from his brow. Zuko nods silently, still gazing at the sky. It has been nearly three months since he took the throne, and whilst he never would’ve expected it to be anything even close to easy, he’s not sure how well he’d have coped without Aang’s regular, steadying presence.

The crown weighs heavy on Zuko’s head.

The sun nestles lower across the mountaintops, and he pulls the golden pin from his bun, letting his hair fall out and pool over his shoulders. Aang looks up and smiles as Zuko slides down beside him, resting the crown at his feet, its golden facets shimmering with reflections of the sunset.

‘Sokka and Katara are with Appa today,’ Aang says with a soft smile. ‘But they’re due to pick us up anytime now. I told them what time our meeting ended.’

‘No accounting for Sokka’s timekeeping,’ Zuko says with a smirk, which makes Aang grin, which in turn fills Zuko with a warmth as if he’d just summoned his own flickering, gentle flame. One of the great delights of his life, he’s discovered recently, is being able to joke with and about these people. The ability to catch someone off-guard and pull a smile out of them, the chance to brighten someone’s day just a tiny bit more.

‘I take it they’re out helping refugees again then, if they’ve got Appa?’

‘Yeah,’ Aang says. His smile falters a little. ‘It seems an infinite number of people, Zuko. Endless sick, elderly, tiny babies even. Infinite people who’d be forever wandering without their help.’

‘I thought Suki said the flood of refugees onto the airships was slowing, though?’

‘Yeah, but the airship fleet is only returning people to their homelands from Ba Sing Se and other major cities. Katara and Sokka’s plan was to search for the lost, the displaced travellers.’ Aang’s brow screws up. ‘You know this, they’ve definitely told you.’

Zuko lowered his head, staring at the crown at his feet. ‘I’m sure they have. I’m sorry.’

Aang wrapped his arm around Zuko and yanked him into a sideways hug, his surprised yelp that followed briefly filling the warm evening air. ‘Don’t be sorry, silly. You’re doing great.’

‘You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to tonight all this week,’ Zuko sighs.

‘I do know. I have too.’ Aang rests his head gently on Zuko’s caped shoulder, and the pair silently watch the sun sink a little lower.

When he leaps up, it’s sudden, shocking yet another embarrassing yelp from Zuko. Aang bounces forwards across the veranda, pointing unsteadily at a large shadow sweeping over the horizon.

‘They’re here!’

The Avatar’s face is the sun, Zuko graced by its warmth.

continued here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26731066/

[plastiquetiaras]

YES YAY ANOTHER MULTIPCHAP FROM U I WAS SO SAD BC DNL WAS ENDING SOON BC I LOVE U AND UR STORIES SO FUCKING MUCH SO THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!!!!! Sending u lots of inspo and support and love, I think ur an incredible and talented writer and person!!!!!! (Fingers crosses the story is branjie!!!!) 💙💙💙💙💙💙💜💜💜💜💜💓💓💓💓💖💖💖💕

okay THANK YOU ANGEL you is so sweet!!! the story is branjie yes, get excited. not sure how long it’s going to take until ch 1 is published - i like to write ahead around 3-4 chapters before starting to post, but hopefully inspo shall flow and it won’t be too long! but THANK YOU I’M SOFT

[wordsofawitheringwriter]

INVERSE FIC INVERSE FIC INVERSE FIC

[its-love-u-asshole]

are you working on a new multipchap? if you are, can you share some details? only if you want to though :)

I actually am! I’ve already got a backlog of 3 chapters too (so about a month of updates). I’m planning to start posting after the next lml update, so I’m very excited! I want it to remain mostly a surprise but it’s a kurotsuki au, featuring other characters: Terushima (ofc), Tora, Futakuchi, and a few others ;) It’s….a weird au lol mostly a blend of comedy and adventure. I’m not sure if people will like it as much as my other fics given the au, but I’ve had a blast writing it so I’m gonna post no matter what ;) 

[kittybellestark]

Would you rather read a oneshot or a multichapter?

Honestly this is very mood dependent. Sometimes I don’t have the mental capacity to read more than a one shot other times I gotta do a full multipchap fic

Rn I’m very much in the place very multichapter fics are all I can read

[brionbroadway]

Thanks for the tag @greathalesonfire!

1) How many works in progress do you have?

Two multipchap fics and a Secret Santa oneshot. (And four or five prompts in my inbox I haven't started).

2) Do you/would you write fanfiction?

Clearly lol, and I have since I was like twelve. Or actually, since I was eight and wrote a story where a girl suspiciously similar to me dated Brian from the Backstreet Boys.

3) Do you prefer paper books or ebooks?

I don't have a preference, really: I like them both for different reasons. I like ebooks for the convenience and privacy, but paper books are easier on my eyes (omg how old am I) and nice to curl up with.

4) When did you start writing?

I've been writing forever. I started with little poems that I'd  illustrate and show everyone in my family (they have some good blackmail). I wrote fic almost exclusively as a teen, then wrote original fiction when I started university. I went back to fic after a particularly bad writing slump, and here I am. :)

5) Do you have someone you trust that you share your work with?

The internet, lol? Even with my original stuff, I always sought out writing groups and critique partners. Writing can be really lonely otherwise. 

6) Where is your favorite place to write?

I love writing outside if I can! But it’s a little cold for that now lol. I mostly write on my living room couch. 

7) Favorite childhood book?

The Story Girl by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Not entirely surprising. :) 

8) Writing for fun or publication?

Right now? Purely for fun. I got into a writing slump because writing with the goal of publication stopped being fun. I just put way too much pressure on myself. I want to go back to original work and pursue publication again, but I need to remember my best works happens when I have fun. 

9) Pen and paper or computer?

Mostly computer, but I’ll use pen and paper over something like my phone if I can’t use a computer. Sometimes using pen and paper helps me fight my urge to edit as I write. 

10) Have you ever taken any writing classes?

I have a minor in writing, but I only took one creative writing class. It was fun and a good exercise in trying different writing styles, but I didn’t learn as much from it as I do from reading and talking to other writers. The other classes were incredibly helpful for my academic and professional writing, though.

11) What inspires you to write?

Everything! Reading always makes me want to write, which is why I’m such a slow reader lol. Really, stories in any form--musicals, songs, TV shows--make me want to create my own or put my own twist on them. (And sometimes I just need to turn all the time I spend watching reality TV into something productive).

I’ll tag @sana-halla @lesbovilde @julian-dahl @evensdramaticshenanigans

[jilyarchive]

Hi, I'm looking for a jily fic, multipchap, 7th year where jily are head boy and girl and fight all the time, constant bickering. James mum died the summer before so he comes looking to prove himself, but lily doesn't know that his mum died and gives him a hard time. Lily was also dating a ravenclaw who broke up with her because he realized she had feelings for James. Sirius dated a slytherin girl but broke up with her to keep her safe from the slytherins. I think it was completed, ~28 chaps

This sounds so familiar but we haven’t been able to track it down.  It might be one of the more popular early Jily multichapters.  Does anyone recognize this?

Updated 20.08.17 thanks to @thegrayherondales!  Could this be the fic you’re thinking of?

Title: The Life and TimesAuthor: Jewels5 Rating: MGenre(s): Drama, AdventureChapters: 36 [WIP]Word Count: 613,762 Summary: She was dramatic. He was dynamic. She was precise. He was impulsive. He was James, and she was Lily, and one day they shared a kiss, but before that they shared many arguments, for he was cocky, and she was sweet, and matters of the heart require time.

This definitely seems like the fic you’re looking for!  Thank you so much @navi04vet-blog!!

Title: RaindropsAuthor: Gmariam Rating: MGenre(s): Romance, DramaChapters: 28Word Count: 49,097Summary: He returned with a quiet sadness and a surprising new responsibility to keep him focused. She returned with a misplaced bitterness and the matching position that forced them to work with one another. Yet fear, resentment, and stubborn arrogance kept pushing them apart, even when they were meant to be together. Winner, Mugglenet Fanfiction Quicksilver Quill for Best Canon Romance.