#the end of 2 months wip

[ammnd]

I miss BAF legacy

[ineed-to-sleep]

Another portrait for little miss blue

[satoumafuyuss]

two EXTREMELY clingy mimirs 💤

[vyoru]

ok freak..

[crismakesstuff]

little rex charm design done hehe

plus allen and and cecil wips!!!

[emmavakarian-theirin]

i apparently have a thing for awkward shy beefy men that slay monsters and are full of love and parental issues, so this was bound to happen

[meg-does-art]

Love is the moon, moments of oneness, souls in tune

-Angie Weiland-Crosby

[No reposts or use with AI]

[kazhan-draws]

there's a hunger

FANDOM: All For the Game, book 4: The Sunshine Court RELATIONSHIP: Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau RATING: T TAGS: Canon Compliant, Missing Scene, Unresolved Sexual Tension

SUMMARY: The stupid dog is staring at him again. Jean stares back and wonders what would happen if he set it on fire.

READ ON AO3.

[ray935sworld]

Luca is the secret love child, you idiot! (Lucalex)

please please please tell me more I'm intrigued

OH, this one is my current favorite! It will definetly be published. Here is the beginning:

Luca hadn’t answer his phone for almost 4 days now. Of course, Alex would just assume that the Italian needed some time for himself or he was busy with the academy. After all, he was with all of them together for the first time in months and there was no race ahead. Surely they had a lot to discuss.

But even then, he had always texted him. He had given him a little heads up like “Sorry amore, it’s so busy, probably won’t write much in the next days” or “I need a few days to myself (not because of you). I will call you soon, okay?”. But no messages, no warning, nothing had been the absolute worst. It had actually made him worry.

Maybe something had happened during training. Maybe he had been hurt – seriously hurt – and the academy boys had decided not to inform him to make sure they had a stable condition for Alex to tell. After all, they were friendly, now that Marc was dating Vale again.

Marc was also with them. Would he tell him? Surely. He wouldn’t keep something like that a secret. It’d be cruel… He shook his head, refusing to believe anything his worried mind supplied. Instead he had decided to text Marc.

And finally he had an answer.

He just hated that answer even more.

It were 3 text. The first one read. “Alex, I am so sorry, please stay calm. We’ll figure this out, okay?” Then there was a picture of a child. It was a cute little boy. His blond hair was hanging in his face and his blue eyes were darted at the camera. He waved at him. He was sitting in Vale’s lap. It was obviously a newly taken picture.

The last text read “That’s Luca’s”.

That kid was Luca’s? He stared at the picture. The same hair. The same eyes. The same kind smile. No doubt. That child had his boyfriends DNA.

He felt his heart peak. His heart was racing and so was his mind. The boy was small. He was young. Maybe 3 or 4. But… He and Luca had been dating for 6 years now. They had been dating since they were young adults, still teenagers. They may have dated in secret and for a long time the long distance and hiding from their brothers and the world had felt like they weren’t really together, but they had been.

And Luca had fathered a child during that time. Luca had cheated on him. That’s why he hadn’t answered his texts or call. He had been with his son. And for some reason his brother had known.

He didn’t reply. Instead he took his backpack, threw some food and water inside, took Shira and Stitch and the keys before heading for the car. They’d be going to Tavuilla to get some answers.

[bluberimufim]

Guys, I think I'm in the final 2-ish chapters of DoS and I'm actually so scared

(ig this warrants a taglist: @little-mouse-gardens @wildswrites @cheeto-flavoured-pasta @fleurtygurl @joswriting)

[cryiling]

LOKI APPRECIATION WEEK 2023 | for @dailyloki

Day #7 : Free Choice - "Let time pass"

-

LAST PIECE FOR LOKI WEEK 🙈 i started this when the episode came out but i decided to FINALLY finish it in time for today!! this scene still haunts me daily btw. i am not well

[fluorescent-if]

End of June Update

I know we're nearly done, but still, happy pride!

This month has been insanely hectic for me, but, I also was able to get through a lot more in terms of writing! (Taking care of the 6 month old puppy did not help my productivity either lol)

Finished the prologue at roughly 5.9k words*

Continued to write chapter 1

reworking some of ch. 1 because I A. Lost part of it and B. I need it to introduce the horror, move forward from the hijinks of the prologue you know

Working on lore things, writing 'the last case', and making the first side story

In the background I have been thinking about working on a few other IFs that may or may not happen after Misty Cove is done (if y'all want more details I am happy to provide them lol)

Reworking some of my outline because I thought of something really fucked up and I needed to implement it. For the drama

On an irrelevant side note I watched "I Saw the TV Glow" and it trans-ed my gender (I was already nonbinary but yk)

*I had to cut the horror stuff from the prologue and make it all business with hijinks, minus a few ominous lines </3. Though I swear on my life I will not go into technical jargon or insurance nonsense partially because I do not know it, and partially because I do not intended to learn it for a project I want to do for fun.

**Also I'm probably gonna have to go back and rewrite parts of the prologue again because I am nothing if not a perfectionist

[thevikingwoman]

WIP roundup

Tagged by @coldshrugs thank you!!

tagging @myreia @roguelioness @galadrieljones @lilas @wickedwitchofthewilds @janzoo @redinkofshame @hylfystt

rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it!

So, I don't really have a WIP folder, as I spilt up things by fandom (and continuity as needed). I'm trying to be better to a least move my completed fics to a separate folder, but - I also keep a lot of old fragments around, and very old stuff. For this I've picked mostly FFXIV stuff and a few other old Dragon Age pieces - that I still hope to one day complete or remember what was about or just had a bunch of words!

infidelity (DA AU, solavellan)

BSDM AU: bsdm au, bdsm 2, bdsm 3 (DA AU, solavellan)

pirates, pirates 2, pirates 4 5 (DA AU, trevelyan/Solas)

after roadtrip (FFXIV, meryta/emmanellain, meryta & alphi)

another tansui tryst (FFXIV, meryta/tansui)

emmy grief (FFXIV, meryta/emmanellain)

home (FFXIV, meryta)

magnai hien (FFXIV, magnai/hien)

predawn (FFXIV, meryta)

Shb next lightwarden (FFXIV, meryta/tansui, meryta & alisaie)

tansui roleplay (FFXIV, meryta/tansui)

threesome im not writing (FFXIV, mertya/hien/tansui)

[shentm]

outsider still doesn't feel complete to me but i'm leaving it here for now. blade pov, no beta we die like baiheng, check tags for trigger warnings

The dream catches itself on those at the center of the tragedy, locking on to the minds already half-emptied by mara. It watches, as the nights repeat, as the hunt grows farther from its purpose.

He's covered in it, clothes slick with blood, the moonlight sliding off of it and watching him through the reflection. Every time he shows up, Jing Yuan has to stay awake for hours afterward, scrubbing at the floors to rid his home of the stains and the stench of mara-stricken beasts. It doesn't help that he likes to trail his sword behind, leaving gouges that the blood flows through, pooling in divots and seeping into the cracks between. But it's not like Jing Yuan expected him to be different.

An Outsider, who participated in a horrific ritual, and became tethered to the merging of paths, a creation of a collector who found the occurrence too interesting to resist. Who was given the abundance emanator's blessing, transforming him into something thought of as prey by most of the Xianzhou Alliance. It's strange that he's still sane sometimes, occasionally managing to break the contradictory resonance of intertwined paths where the hunt and the abundance intersect.

In the shared dream he sees the echoes of those he once knew, dead beings recreated in a perfect recollection of the waking world. It's just how he remembers, an everlasting reminder of what they did. He's drawn in when asleep and awake, unable to escape the repetition of memory.

In that intersection of paths he sometimes finds the shadow of the Imbibitor Lunae running away and away, too afraid to face his crimes. He finds the corpse of a dragon protected by its unborn kin, and tears it apart instead of looking back. He fights through the same landscapes again and again, always waking up in front of the same dim lamp. The only reason he can think of for this endless repetition is that someone out there likes these memories, wants to see the moment of the sin done right.

Skin melts against skin, fire burning through hair. The wet noise of a blade squelching as it rips through meat is the only sound that interrupts the guttural screaming of those beasts, displacing the cries with blood down their throats. Their pathetic existences mirror his own. Eyes press against his brain where they grow inside his skull, amplifying the beats of his heart. A constant high pitched whine carries through the sky, staying with him wherever he goes. Physical discomfort keeps him in the dream, afraid of what deeper pain awaits with the dawn of wakefulness.

He sees her too, sometimes, guarding the path before the corpse. She sees him in return, and they always meet in a clash of swords, the moon almost close enough to touch. It watches next to them, the blue light of her own weapon brilliant against the clouded orange sky. There was never any other choice; a recreation can only travel down the path of the original, like wheels in a rut on a dried dirt road. They tell each other that the dream will end. He continues the hunt again.

The dream is an awful thing to endure. He wonders about its purpose when cleaning his blade that Jingliu so kindly returned.

Dan Feng never acknowledges him, never admits to what he did, never even calls him by name. But it's clear that despite the physical differences, he's still the same arrogant coward that lives in the dream. How else would Dan Feng manage to kill him every time with the weapon he forged with his own once-deft hands, buying useless time before his inevitable judgement?

When he wakes up it is only a brief moment of respite from the dream as clear-cutting pain reminds him of his immortality. Sleep comes with the soothing promise of comfort, but also with the knowledge that it will not be restless.

Later he joins the Stellaron Hunters, gets taken in despite being on the brink of insanity. Feels the frenzy slipping away with Kafka's words, feels the understanding leave his mind. Turns him into a docile puppet, waiting for the next command. He names himself Blade. She gives him the first genuine rest he's had in seven hundred years.

His senses are diluted with her influence, not enough to render him completely useless, but enough to clear his mind. It's mostly just his sight that's a problem, and it's easy enough to counter with his other senses. The other one is touch, but he doesn't expect that to really be important. He does most of his hunting with a sword anyways, distanced enough from his prey.

He's never gone back to the Luofu personally. Once or twice through the years he hears news of its whereabouts, and soon has those reminders taken from his mind, rendering his sleep dreamless yet again.

He doesn't go back because he's not done hunting.

But at some point it was bound to happen, the meeting of three tragic sinners and that other guy who was also there.

A mission brings him back to the Luofu, and he doesn't complain because his mind is too empty to think. He tries to think of himself as just a simple vessel to help Elio carry out his plot. A stagehand for the endless show that they try to put on. It's quite nice, being like this, the desperately needed reprieve from the eyes that always try to crawl their way back into his brain. It's not easy to forget once your body has learned.

Kafka says the mission went well. Elio says he can break the tether now. He doesn't remember any of it, except from the brief moment of clarity when Jing Yuan asked him if he was done, and then the consciousness when he wakes up later.

Jing Yuan looks the same now as he did all those years ago, except for the young shadow he keeps at his side. He's still just as radiant as the sun, the center of everything he joins. Of course a comet like himself was never meant to stay long in Jing Yuan's orbit. The sun does not need to change when a dirty snowball cuts through its orbit after centuries of desolation in the universe; the sun burns bright on its own, without a need for a secondary light.

None of them are, were, like that, just a product that reflected their surroundings instead of the magnetic core that shaped their era. Maybe that's why they're all criminals wandering the stellar seas now, shot out from the gravity well and driven by their own definitions of the hunt.

But eventually he feels the searing pain start to fade when he chokes awake on drying blood, glances over at the dissolving bodies next to him. The eyes can no longer see. Kafka helps with her lightning, and soon the only physical links left are those burning wounds inside his brain.

Between puddles of blood and dripping black stone he wakes up, and the night grows deeper but the streetlights start burning. He collaborates, strangely, with Dan Heng (a new trailblazer) to force Jing Yuan back into his bed. He sees the artificial sunrise a few times, occasionally with Kafka, and sometimes just on his own. The sight of a celestial object rising behind the clouds has been one he's not seen for a while, even if it is still a false sun.

It's done, the dream has an end. The hunt is over, its conclusion long since found.

He meets the one who couldn't let go in the waking world, both of them more alive than they should be. Neither of them deserve to be here, yet they sully the Luofu with their presence anyways, carving and gouging out a place where they no longer belong.

She meets him with the same intensity she always carries, unable to be diminished by time or a dream's veil, and he feels alive as they dance the familiar battle once again, for what may be the last time. Unlike the cycles before them, this time it feels like a breaking of bonds, like something being set free.

On the last night of his stay on the Luofu he ends up at Jing Yuan's family home after he manages to separate from the dream, and he's lucky that Jing Yuan still stays here even after seven hundred years. Conveniently, Dan Heng mentions that Yanqing would be dragging the Luofu's heroic trailblazer on some sort of sword-hunting adventure on that day.

"Yingxing," Jing Yuan says when he enters civilly through the window, "please stop dripping blood on the floor."

It's that name that breaks him into the clearest state of mind he's had for centuries. That and the newfound control over his own mind, now that the moon no longer watches him. Jing Yuan still sounds the same, calls him with the same tone of voice. When's the last time anyone's referred to him as Yingxing? When's the last time he's been able to hear that name without his consciousness slipping through the cracks?

"Jing Yuan," he responds, and he's suddenly aware of the winds outside, carrying with them a fine mist of pollen that coats everything in a layer of grit, sticking to the drying blood on his clothes. He's aware of the artificial moonlight that gazes into the room, blue in tone and so much softer than the harsh orange red in his sleep. He can feel the silence of the home, where four others once gathered and where only one stays now.

"That's not my name."

The dream tries to call to him, but its voice is quiet here.

Jing Yuan reclines on the mass of pillows he calls a bed, and when he shifts he can hear the sound of feathers scratching at their confinements. He hears his pulse in his head, reviving nerves once thought to be dead, and he can feel the tingling sensation where it creeps through his limbs.

The air is cold where it hits his skin. It's been so long since he's been able to feel the temperature. He looks at Jing Yuan, and he can see the shine in his eyes, the strands of his hair where it was only a blurred image before. The world is clearer than it's ever been. It's like getting glasses. Do they still have those?

Jing Yuan grounds him in the present, the physicality distracting him from the broken link between his mind and that all-seeing eye disguised as the moon. The moon here on the Luofu is fake, as is the rest of the sky over most of the ship. The mara-stricken here do not scream as they claw at their faces, nor do they tear apart their prey with overwhelming strength.

He can touch and be touched now, acutely aware of the blood on his face, his body, his hands, the stains across the sheets and the fabric where he dares to rip them apart, but it doesn't matter in the moment. Cauterized wounds of foreign eyes that once grew inside his head start to make their presence known again, but they don't try to regrow. Flesh, not his own, knits itself together when he lets go, and the scent of iron permeates the air.

He's never been a particularly selfless lover. He bites down again.

"Ren," Jing Yuan says, quiet with an edge of something else. The false moon silently hangs behind the clouds, diffused into a hazy shower of light. The metallic taste of blood fills his mouth.

Jing Yuan is just as pliant for him now as he was centuries ago, body remembering and opening its vulnerabilities for him so readily. The heat in his head is easily ignored in favor of the heat beneath his hands. It's easy to get lost in the chase to consume and feed, but he reins himself in with the control he thought he'd lost a long time ago.

An Outsider, on equal ground with the Luofu's general, if only for one night. An Outsider, carving his own mark into the Xianzhou's history.

He finds Jing Yuan again after all these centuries, and he's still just as passionate as he's always been, fervent energy and primal fear driving him deeper into the desperate desire to stake a claim of his own.

[bonebrokebuddy]

2 panels done, about 78 more to go ;-; only the speech bubbles & lettering left!

This is a WIP of a dp x dc silver age based on a prompt from my twin @stealingyourbones !

I’ve been storyboarding this comic for months but have procrastinated actually digitalizing it until now as I’m Very new to digital art and much more used to traditional art but it’s slowly getting easier!

I’m just on the intro section currently! I’m trying to keep it as cartoon accurate in both art and script as I possibly can as I want it to feel like something that could be pulled straight from the original show.

Here’s the complete storyboard for the first page:

The intro is meant to be based off a classic early season dp plot of “Skulker has a device to trap Danny but Danny outsmarts Skulker and uses that device against him.” But you’ll have to wait to see the rest >:)

Here’s a sneak peak of a rough draft of a page during the Skulker fight that I had to scrap the paneling from because I couldn’t get the flow of it to work:

I’m still debating whether I update it on a page by page basis or release it all at once so I’ll keep y’all posted for updates!

I still need a name for the comic so feel free to give me suggestions!

[muldersfingers]

This is actually upsetting me to look at on my (new txf) ao3 account, like I'm having a visceral reaction to seeing it and I NEED TO FINISH A FIC