#Feloss does stuff

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this is a pretty stupid thing that ive done.jpg

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Tag Game: Ten First Lines

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

(I decided to interpret this as "most recently worked on" with the qualifier "has an actual line" so both posted fics and WIPs ahoy!)

The rug beneath Aethas’ bare feet is plush and dirt-free, in spite of the boots that cross it daily. [Halduron/Aethas, Dom/sub + aftercare, E, WIP]

"He looks like he could suplex you." [Endgame HalduRomThemar, lots of pining and a love triangle-goes-poly, M/E, WIP]

There’s a cat on every corner in Silvermoon. [HalduRomThemar, pre-relationship implied, a whoops-we're-animals curse, T]

Time had lost all meaning who knows how long ago. [HalduRomThemar, filthy smut with surprise feelings at the end, E]

They’d built the treehouse as kids. [Varian/Genn, a.k.a. the Suburban Dad Affair, E, WIP]

It's difficult for a man like Lor'themar Theron to relax. [Lor'themar/Rommath, invisibility spell used creatively :3c, E, Wip]

After the Vindicaar departs for Argus, Halduron goes looking for a familiar face. [Halduron/Rommath, two guys learning to get along better with sex, E, WIP]

The first words out of Anduin's mouth after Wrathion drops his bag by the kitchen door is, "come here." [Wranduin, college AU blowies idk, E, WIP]

"You sure you’re okay? You look a little, uh, flustered." [Roy/Tim, bonked on the head-mutual pining-getting together, T]

"I know I’ve said it before, Nine, but boy am I ever glad to have you on deck to take the heat off of me," Commander Reyes says offhandedly while checking over the ammunition strapped to his thighs. [Genji/Zenyatta, Blackwatch AU, pre-relationship, T]

Won't tag, but please steal, I like to see what peeps are working on! :D

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*dragging a metal cup against prison bars* s-spare some awooga pls?

Alms incoming! Tho I think you've read all there is to it (for now), but hey!!! It's a pretty decent fic so far!!!

Modern-ish AU, Varian/Genn, ruh-roh he's hot – it's...!

Awooga.

Liam’s car comes to a stop on the driveway and there is a deluge of youths and even a dog pouring out of there, as Lorna has brought the Crowley’s labrador, Donovan, to splash around in the pool before it’s emptied for the fall. Anduin waves happily at them as Liam ambles over to grab a glass of lemonade, taking it with him inside, bag hanging off his shoulder.

“Finals are coming up, and then university applications, dear me,” Mia sighs, watching him go and tucking her hair behind her ear.

“The relentless progress of time, huh?” Varian half-jokes, and she hums an agreement. “He’s a great kid.”

“We’re doing well at this parenting thing, all of us. Speaking of,” she indicates the car pulling up on the driveway at the front of the house with a small smile, and pours another glass. Genn soon slumps into the third chair with a sigh, tugging at his collar.

“Car’s like a damn sauna. Thanks, dear.” He presses the glass against his red face, groaning as the cool condensation contrasts against the sweat.

“Actually drink it,” Mia admonishes, and he laughs and takes a swallow. Varian looks over as he hears Anduin’s peal of laughter, playing tug of war with the dog.

“Mm, that hit the spot. You alright, there?” Genn’s rolling up his sleeves.

“Hm?” Ah, he must’ve looked some sort of way. Mia, too, is looking at him with some concern. “Well. The other night, we had a… difficult talk, Anduin and I. It’s left me a bit rattled, truth be told. Sometimes I’m convinced he’s leagues smarter than me, and no matter how much I want to help there’s things I plain don’t know, you know? I miss his mother the most, times like this.”

He motions to the way Mia is leaning against Genn’s arm in unthinking comfort.

“You’ve no thoughts of remarrying, then?” Genn asks.

Mia throws her husband a sharp look, but Varian only sighs and shrugs.

“I thought of it. Then I thought better of it.”

And now, now that Anduin’s put these thoughts in his head? Would feel a bit like a betrayal of that part of him, if he has one. Not to mention how disastrous his one fresh attempt had been.

“Just saying. A man has needs, it’s only natural.”

“Genn,” Mia shuts him down, and Varian sits silent, turning his glass around in his hand and watching the lone strawberry bob in there.

“Sorry if that’s too personal.”

“Nah. Just… Mostly I worry that Anduin worries about me being lonely. Moving here has been great, but still.”

“He’s a natural caretaker, that boy,” Mia smiles sadly.

“Didn’t get that instinct from me,” Varian replies. “I want him to focus on his own life, on school and friends. Sports, if he can be convinced.”

“Girls?” Genn slyly suggests, laughing when Mia playfully swats at his bare forearm.

Varian laughs along, despite himself.

“Yeah, something like that,” he says, distracted as Genn tips his head back to swallow down the last of his drink, Adam’s apple bobbing. A single drop of sweat seems to follow the motion down his throat.

Ah.

Aw, shit.

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I'm gonna have to ask about 'awooga' i think 😸

My baby, my precious. My VarianGenn formerly-80s-now-90s-suburbian dad affair. Idk what possessed me, really. The intrigue of the unfamiliar maybe? Middle aged men realizing they're queer and not keeping their fidelity is at all points not something I've any exp with so I guess I wanna put 'em in my microwave. Make 'em spin around in there, getting warm, while I observe. Y'know, just girly things (gender neutral). Excerpt! ;3

“Nah. Just… Mostly I worry that Anduin worries about me being lonely. Moving here has been great, but still.” “He’s a natural caretaker, that boy,” Mia smiles sadly. “Didn’t get that instinct from me,” Varian replies. “I want him to focus on his own life, on school and friends. Sports, if he can be convinced.” “Girls?” Genn slyly suggests, laughing when Mia playfully swats at his bare forearm. Varian laughs along, despite himself. “Yeah, something like that,” he says, distracted as Genn tips his head back to swallow down the last of his drink, Adam’s apple bobbing. A single drop of sweat seems to follow the motion down his throat. Ah. Aw, shit.

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Y'all voted for Awooga way back when so have a WIP pieceroo live laugh love besties!!!

“Genn. Grabbing a smoke, join me?”

Darius leans against the doorjamb to Genn’s office with his usual irreverent grin, hands in the pockets of his beat-up Levi’s.

“Ugh, don’t tempt me,” Genn groans. What he wouldn’t give for a smoke right now, but he’s been trying to quit.

“C’mon, what she don’t know won’t hurt her,” Darius wheedles, wiggling a pack of Camel Blue at him. Genn grimaces, but gets up.

“Must you phrase it like that? You make it sound like I’m fucking my secretary.”

This makes Darius laugh heartily as he leads the way to the designated smoker patio. Someone's got asthma, so they can't smoke indoors anymore. This should do wonders for Genn’s attempt to quit, but instead it leads to this exact scenario at least once per day. Mia knows, judging by the way she wrinkles her nose as she helps take his coat off, but she also knows he's trying. Tess has gotten too good at hiding his cigarettes for him to try to keep smoking, anyway.

Taking a seat, Darius offers Genn one, but he masters himself enough to decline. Darius shrugs in a ‘suit yourself’ kind of way and lights up. The smell is heady enough to tide him over, Genn tells himself. This is a reasonable compromise and better than taking a drag from the source. Perhaps noticing his restlessness, Darius switches hands, and says,

“Got the lad a car, I hear? Now mine wants a bike, and I think I’ll blame you for it.”

Genn laughs: Liam and Lorna have long had an amusing back-and-forth of comeuppance which will almost certainly culminate in some kind of whirlwind romance, according to Darius. Mia tends to agree with him, so Genn will take their word for it.

“Taught him to drive myself,” he says, ignoring Darius’ exaggerated pantomime of horror. “So I trust him behind the wheel. He’s driving his sister and the neighbor kids to school, which I can’t see Lorna doing on a bike. Motored, I assume?”

“Naturally,” Darius scoffs; he’d been an avid rider himself, back in the day. Before… “Can’t legally drive with this ol’ thing, so Toby’s teaching her.”

He gestures at his eye-patch, and Genn snorts, leaning back in the creaky lawn chair.

“Bit like an extra father, eh?”

It’s a warm day for September. Darius goes uncharacteristically quiet. When Genn glances over, he’s staring straight ahead, cigarette burning down unnoticed and brow furrowed as though he’s weighing what he’s about to say next. He sighs and puts out what’s left of the cigarette in the ashtray.

“Yeah, Genn. Exactly like that, actually.”

“Hm?” It feels as though they’ve talked past one another, all of a sudden. Noting the tense air, Genn sits up to meet Darius’ eye, when he faces him. “What d’you mean?”

“You might’n’t be fucking your secretary, Genn, but I’m fucking mine. Problem?”

His face is deadly serious. Genn’s known Darius Crowley for over twenty years, more than long enough to remember the useless woman who wanted nothing to do with her daughter once she was born. He’s never even suspected anything like this. And, what’s more,

“That’s terribly unprofessional, Darius.”

That startles a guffaw out of the other man, loud enough a flock of birds hastily make their exit from the nearby aspen. Nerves are another uncommon view on his old friend’s face, but he sees them for what they are now they’re dissipating.

“Oh, shove it. We’ve been doing this long enough now to be professional about it. Clearly you’ve never noticed shit, you blind old git.”

Genn huffs in mock affront, torn between making light and interrogating. ‘How long, exactly?!’ part of him wants to demand.

And does Lorna know? Why a man, why Tobias of all people? Well, that last one makes sense, if one accepts the others as true. He’s no waif, but there’s a certain delicateness to Tobias Mistmantle. He’s quick and clever, and pretty in the face, if you like that sort of thing. Big doe eyes.

And Darius might like that sort of thing. Genn sneaks a surreptitious look. Relaxed now, he’s lighting another cigarette, movements lazy – but Genn knows how fast he can be when the situation calls for it. How deadly.

The situation rarely calls for deadliness these days, but the body remembers. There’s an appeal to the solid form of him. Moreso, Genn privately thinks, than there is to Tobias. Tobias looks almost breakable. Darius would take some concentrated effort to crack.

…What in the world is he thinking? Enough, old wolf. The point is, if Darius says they can keep professional – and all evidence points to this being true – then far be it from Genn to make a ruckus. Still, though. One thing.

“You should get the relationship paperwork in order with HR,” he admonishes.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get around to it,” Darius grumbles with a grimace of distaste. Nobody likes paperwork.

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WIP Tag Game Woo Hoo !

Thank youuu @whenyoulosesmallmind for the tag! <3

Rules:

Post the names of the files of your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you asks with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it. If you want, tag as many people as you have WIPs.

First Timer

Say I'm up and coming (like I'm fucking in an elevator)

Ugliest Trait

For the Glory of the Alliance

Awooga

Yourself is best farmhand

RomThemar invisibility

Let's see, who can I tag... Gonna tag @ You Reading This. >:3 Oh, and Charlo if u wanna <3

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Pandora by Edda Hayes & 2WEI is my Lich King!Jaina theme song.

“Jaina!” Arthas cries, praying she’ll somehow hear.

He’s fought his way to her feet, tearing through the gruesome walking corpses of man and beast alike. Faces of people he could have seen in the petition chamber, or in the market, or anywhere in the country. His people, now nothing more than moving meat.

She’s hovering with icy winds, tattered robes whipping around her legs and that damned sword held in one hand, and her face…

Frost is dusted across her already pale skin, and she looks younger even than usual, in spite of her white hair. Her eyes glow, but it has none of her usual arcane tint to it. There’s no trace of emotion on her face, just as there hadn’t been when she’d decimated the forward troops, nor when she raised them into her, her service.

“Arthas!” Uther, loyal Uther, cries from the front line, but he’ll never reach them. It’s a miracle Arthas had managed to break the line, Jaina’s keen mind and apparent disregard of her troops survival (if it can be called that), making her position a near-impregnable fortress. He remembers playing chess with her, the mischievous smile on her face as she, once again, trounced him.

Once again put his king in check.

She’s not even looking at him now, regarding the Lordaeronian army clashing with her own like none of it really matters, like she doesn’t know some of these soldiers by name. Like she doesn’t know Arthas.

“Jaina, please. Let me help you!”

“Oh,” Jaina says, mildly. She finally regards him, and a gentle, painfully familiar smile blooms on her face. She reaches for him and he goes readily. She cups his cheek. Light, she’s cold, it’s so fucking cold. “You just have.”

A sharp sting makes it hard to breathe, it feels like he’s underwater, his lungs protesting against the sudden lack of air. Unwittingly, he staggers back, coughing. The noise of the fighting around them, Uther’s anguished bellow, it all grows distant. He drops to his knees, plate armor feeling impossibly heavy. He touches his neck, mind moving sluggishly, and he’s surprised when his gauntlet comes back red.

The last thing he sees is her face, before everything goes black.

* * *

The prince falls, but his body rises anew. Frost spreading like spiderweb from the icicle wound in his neck turns him a sickly blue, face unmoving – frozen. He hefts his warhammer, and turns against the forces of the living, and the Light.

The Lich King has won her Champion.

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WIP ask game more like wip ass. game

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.

Tagged by @cloudstrifing thanks bud now I must face the harsh truth of 67 WIPs. I'm not listing all of those. Top 10!

Awooga

I won't be blinded by the liiight

For the Glory of the Alliance

Ebon Brew

Suramar Nights

woof woof meow

Staarships by Nicki Minaaj

Shadow take you

Eagle Cry

Two Truths and a...

Dare I tag? Ye, though I barely know who's even active on here and also writing, anymore. @khadgarfield, @peace-blooms, @askell-the-bee, and if I should know you but don't, @youyesyoureadingthisrn!

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“Enter,” Lor’themar calls without bothering to rise.

Liadrin does, nodding to the servant as she closes the door and crosses the room to sit on the chaise.

“Lor’themar,” she greets warmly, reaching a hand out for Rommath to scent. He tries not to, but she’s used some sort of lotion – bruiseweed, earthroot? It tickles his nose, but the mystery is too much to resist. On the floor, Brightwing’s tail goes tap-tap-tap as he grins up at her. “And who are these new friends of yours?”

“Alas, not quite new,” Lor’themar replies, hiding his grin behind a hand but the mirth is plain in his voice. “That would be Rommath, and this, Halduron.”

He pats Brightwing on the head once, and the fool’s tongue lolls out. Liadrin pulls her hand back sharply, and Rommath’s tail flicks with irritation.

“What the hell, are you joking?” she demands, looking back and forth between the three of them.

“Me-eow,” Rommath says, unthinking. Lor’themar gestures at him as though to say, well, there you have it.

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Okay but what is a "woof woof meow"?

Y'know, there are a few, shall we say, staples of fandom. Tropes, if you will, that tend to crop up in all fandoms and all pairings, really. I think this is healthy for the eco system, kind of a neutral ground for the foraging fandom foreigner, someone who wants to dip their toes in but still have something familiar to guide them, yeah?

So anyway it's me guys, HalduRomThemar, accursed artifact go poof, and whew, if you thought Hal and Rom were fighting like cats and dogs before...! Excerpt:

The cat is big and a beautiful, solid inky black, perched firmly on Lor'themar's paperwork, stance wide, back arched, and tail fluffed to mind-boggling proportions. It is making a very alarming growly noise, matched by the dog with its front paws on that same desk. The hound is not one of the typical Lordaeronian guard dogs, its coat a more golden yellow, teeth-bared muzzle sleek and without jowls, with its ears hanging by its cheeks rather than pointing up at the sky – although at the moment they're pressed back in a sign of aggression, as the cat swipes at it and it snaps back with a frightful speed. Both animals' eyes glow a familiar, fel-tinged green. "Attention!" Lor'themar bellows, sending the cat into the air and the dog scrambling into something akin to parade rest.

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Okiedokie 👍 I will dads posthaste.

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tell me abt the nicki minaaj one. is the vowel extension significant. are they in space

They are, indeed, on the starship known as the Vindicaar. It's a WoW alien goat people thing. But these are not alien goats, they're (SHOCKINGLY!) elfy boys. Their names are Aethas (Mage) and Arator (Paladin) and Arator's aunt fucking hates Aethas and they're on the spaceship to save the world together and I'm gonna take A Liberty and prolong the trip, to maximize hijink potential and also allow for some sneaky banging. Aethas is trans. It'll be great and cute, they're yet another rare pair, WoW is chock full of characters and they all deserve more love! [Cracks knuckles] And I will fucking aanswer.

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First sentence

rules: post the first sentence of your last ten posted fics to see if there's a pattern.

I was tagged by @cloudstrifing thankee! <3

One never really gets used to being dumped.

The weather on the Isle of Thunder is, surprise surprise, absolute shit.

The message appears on Rommath’s desk sometime around noon, while he is doing his due diligence stretching his legs briefly before returning to his office and his paperwork.

“Gone – again!” Tae’thelan hisses, all but slamming his pack down on his narrow but lavish tent bed, not caring when it falls over, spilling tools and other paraphernalia all over the blankets.

If Halduron thought formal banquets were interminable prior to their adoption of the Nightborne, this would be a wake-up call.

She sees herself in the mirror.

It's a struggle and a half to not just grab one of the flaky buns from the bag.

The first words out of Anduin’s mouth after Wrathion drops his bag by the kitchen door is, “come here.”

If Aethas is very loud, then Halduron is very quiet.

The rug beneath Aethas’ bare feet is plush and dirt-free, in spite of the boots that cross it daily.

I feel like the one pattern that jumps out at me is the fact that I love me some in medias res lmaooo

If someone wants to do it, I have tagged you! :D

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This wouldn't be such a problem if only I could write with anything approaching speed and/or confidence.

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NaNo update and snippet to keep me honest: Varian is struggling and so am I.

“Anduin, I don’t mean to, what I mean is, you’re a young man,” he tires, desperate. “Things are… changing, and maybe girls are strange, and different, and boys feel safe and familiar. It’s okay, every young man goes through this, and it won’t last forever. Trust me, you can learn to appreciate girls if you just try.”