#Kalira answers

[kalira]

Trick or Treat!

Happy Halloween! A cosy Tachi (from beside me right this moment in fact) for you~

The porch light's on for Trick-or-Treats!

[mad-madam-m]

WIP Wednesday:

the 3 Sentence Ficathon!!

prompt #36!

The prompt is:

any, any, hair care (washing, brushing, braiding, go wild) 

And you get a Tiger & Bunny ficlet!

Tiger & Bunny, Kotetsu/Tomoe, Brushing

The hairbrush caught on a knot and pulled, and Kotetsu winced. "Sorry."

He couldn't see Tomoe's face, with her back turned toward him as it was, but the smile in her voice was audible. "It's all right. It didn't hurt."

He believed her—he did—but his eyes still flicked to the IV in her hand and the medicine that steadily dripped into the tubing. The last thing she needed right now was her husband yanking on her hair, even if it "didn't hurt."

[phlebaswrites]

So as someone who loves the game of playing K-Drama trope bingo (the game does vary for J-Dramas, Korean movies, etc. but also fun), I have to ask about the All the Tropes in Asian Drama story??? 👀

Aha! The idea for this spawned off this tumblr post, and I decided to write something for it, a story which eventually became The Past Cannot Be Cured.

However, there are just so many tropes, that I've kept the list around as a kind of ongoing prompt list. 😝

I'm considering the idea of running an event with them as prompts in 2024 actually...

[mikkimadison]

Write some Circus 2 - Airship Pirates for WIP Wednesday, please!

There wasn't any way he was going to get up to the roof before the rest of the explosives went off, but he could put as much distance between himself and them as possible. He'd just reached the fire escape door when someone grabbed his hand, and he heard, "Gotcha." Then the generator room disappeared.

[veteratorianvillainy]

We can't resist a 2-for-1, so how about Strident, with Jaeger War for shareable, please!

Thanks for the ask! Let's pretend it was from this last week, okay? XP Here are your shareable sentences

Jaeger War

Either the new pilots would work or she was absconding with her Rig and disappearing into the disputed territories. They would never find her out there. She would ensure it.

[aparticularbandit]

immortal witch riding hood for WIP Wednesday, please!

WIP Wednesday Game

SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG THIS ONE IS SO LATE

But you see your papa’s face fall.  His eyes grow big and wide, his brow unfurrows, his face turns white.  You think he maybe even stops breathing for a few seconds.  He can’t even look at you anymore.  “Oh,” he says, when he can finally get words out.  “Oh.  So that’s how it is.”  He waves a hand dismissively.  “I suppose you can keep meeting with her, then,” he continues as he turns away from you.  “Only don’t—”

You look up at him, confused.  “Don’t what?”

“Don’t do any of that magic in the house.  Your poor stepmother has an awful fright, and our baby….”  Your papa’s voice trails off, and he nearly smiles, a soft, fond thing that you think he must never have had when he thought of you.  “When he’s born, we won’t want any of that sort of thing around him, understand?”

[zyrafowe-sny]

August 28th WIP Wednesday Game Answered Asks: Whumptober

Failed at actually sharing lines for far too long despite making progress. Oops.

@post-and-out

He saw the laser.

His sword answered.

It wasn't a conscious decision.

Threat identified -> corrective measure.

It was automatic, drilled into him for as long as he could remember.

@kalira I was barely a participant this year — only finished one fic — but oh well!

That's what was supposed to happen.

Except, what *had* happened was identifying *Ballister* as a threat. And there was no universe where Ballister of all people could be a threat. Mr. More-Noble-Than-Actual-Nobility.

@sourb0i

No universe in which Ballister would have attacked the queen. Except, he did. When the whole Kingdom was watching, either from coveted seats inside the Glorodome or on millions of screens at home and at watch parties.

@wizisbored

He gaped in horror at Ballister's arm falling, at his own arm that did it, at the crown, still rattling after the queen fell. After the *queen* fell.

And then the monitors above them fell as the laser in Ballister's arm shot up, and then Ballister was below.

Gone.

@aparticularbandit Absolutely failed at getting ahead, but oh well!

Ambrosius stared at the jagged hole, unsure if he should pursue and lead a search party or if he should stay around for debriefing. He should probably wait until a superior commander arrived, right? Or would that simply be the Director. She was right there.

[somefishycat]

WIP Wednesday backlog! These are various requests from 10/9/24, 10/30/24, 11/6/24, and 11/20/24 — everything except the olb requests from 11/6!

Sentences and Bead Flapjack pictures under cut:

ones left behind for @whimsicalmeerkat @stonemaskedtaliesin (x2) @quietly-sleeping @post-and-out

Raine says goodbye to their students and Steve and follows Eber back to Darius. “Can you teleport us up there?” Raine asks him. Getting all of them back home immediately after the draining spell ended just about killed Darius. Steve said he was fine, just exhausted and out of magic, but Eber wasn't convinced. He stayed curled up on his chest and purring for several hours until Darius woke up again. “I'm not sure if my bile sac’s recovered yet,” he admits. “Far simpler spells than that still ache.” Raine nods as if they'd been expecting that answer. “Better not to risk it, then. We'll fly.” Raine and Darius both have palismen, kept carefully hidden since they became coven heads. Eber does not. He'll have to ride with one of them, because the alternative is to summon a flying beast. Eda’s beast might not appreciate that much. They're trying to capture it with minimal fuss, not start a fight.

marble wall 2 for @twyrewolf @asha10100101010 @wizisbored @kallisto-k

“Yeah,” Hunter says, turning around. His palisman looks back at Caleb's empty grave for another moment. They cross the bridge of vines Willow grew one at a time. As soon as everyone’s on dry land, she whispers to them and they shrink back to the little island. The Nocedas lead them back into the center of town, pointing out several landmarks along the way. Really, though, that statue of the Wittebane brothers is all they need to know. It's hard to get lost with that looming over them. There's a transport demon right across the street from it that Camila says can take them home. They're not going home yet, of course. They need clothes and food, so they enter a little bootique (“It's just a thrift shop,” says Luz) and start looking around. “Just the essentials for today,” Camila suggests. “Maybe three days’ worth of clothes, and if you need anything else we’ll come back.”

marble wall 3 for @chiotri-loves-davekat @tiercell @auburnlaughter (x2) @oriharaizayadividesintoslytherin (x2) @quietly-sleeping

“There's a sequel?” “Unpublished,” Luz says. “It isn't very good. We were in a… crunch. Didn't have much time to plan it out. It was mostly a distraction so we could escape, you know?” Okay, so maybe there wasn't much effort there. But it's the sequel to his favorite book, he’s still curious. “What happens in it?” Hunter asks. Luz hesitates. “Really, it's bad. You don't want to hear about it.” “Actually, I'd like to know too,” says Willow. “It can't be that bad if you wrote it,” Amity says with a disgustingly sappy smile. Luz whines a little bit. “It's… well, uh. The first book ended with Luzura dying to save the kingdom.” Vee covers her ears again, but from her soft huff of laughter, Hunter guesses she doesn't actually care that much. “So since we were, like, making up after a big fight and King killed my character, it seemed like… the best way to resolve that would be to, kind of. Resurrect her in the next book.” … Oh.

Bead Flapjack for @balthazarusrex @aparticularbandit @zyrafowe-sny @tamsinswriting @enigma-the-mysterious

@eriquin @whimsicalmeerkat @kalira @bald-rights @stonemaskedtaliesin

@sourb0i

Last time I left off, Flapjack looked like this:

[id: side view of an incomplete cardinal made of woven glass seed beads. It is just a face and part of the back of the head so far]

I've added many, many more stitches and now I'm starting to shape his crest:

[id: the same beaded cardinal, with several more rows added at the top. The head is beginning to slope backwards]

[wizisbored]

wip wednesday sentences for 6/11

the heritance stuff was actually part of the last update on ao3 :)

the dissertation sentences mostly came from a 2-page appendix that doesnt actually count towards my wordcount at all. gotta love academic writing :/

blood red @twyrewolf, @enigma-the-mysterious, @eriquin, @somefishycat @whimsicalmeerkat, @loyal-house-of-lupin, @stonemaskedtaliesin, @kallisto-k

He doesn’t get an answer to that, the horse setting off without another word. It’s somewhat nerve-wracking, to trust the balance of a huge heavy horse over these rocks. At least she seems to be enjoying it. She’s bounding up and down slopes, wagging her tail like a dog and paying absolutely no mind to how much she’s bouncing him around on her back. There’s no clear path she’s following, as far as he can tell. That’s probably a good thing.

“So,” she says as she begins plodding across a relatively flat stretch, turning her head to glance back at him. “How much d’you know about this ghost town?”

“I thought you were scared of it?”

“Yeah, and? I still wanna know.”

He sighs, leaning back in the saddle. It’s something to talk about, at least. It takes him a moment to dredge up the memories; he and Ambrosius listened sincerely when the ladies talked, but there’s been a few more pressing things on his mind since then.

“I don’t remember the name,” he admits. “They didn’t really say much about it other than how it died. A vicar was murdered, decades ago, but apparently it’s not that clear who did it or why. Might’ve been a farmhand, maybe? But then, same night the vicar died, there was a fire. A big fire, and it was only a small town to begin with. Just getting itself established. I don’t know why they wanted to go there, they made it sound like there’s only ashes left.”

“Maybe it’s got something to do with why one shot the other and then pinned it on you?”

“Hm. Maybe. But on the bright side, they never mentioned any actual ghosts, so you should be safe.”

He leans forward to pat her neck, and she snorts.

dorm 4 @kalira, @oriharaizayadividesintoslytherin

“Oh, but Delia,” Lydia implores, all big eyes and worried voice and an incredible level of fakeness, “those are the omens my mother saw!”

That stops her short, just as intended. “Well- Lydia,” she continues after a moment, “when I talk about things happening for a reason, I’m not really talking about omens, I mean more like-”

“But it must mean something, right?! The exact same things she saw?”

“That’s not-”

“Oh, wait, no, we’re not allowed to talk about that, are we?"

heritance @tiercell, @shelfthe-reader, @tamsinswriting, @circus-complex

Emily named her. Emily loved her. She was supposed to be… Theirs.

Letter still clutched in his hands, Charles stands on shaking legs and makes his way back out of the office. He slips back into the homunculus’ room, watching from the doorway as the fast-asleep girl hugs the fast-asleep raccoon closer. Betelgeuse, he’s noticed, has started riding on her shoulder like he did Emily’s, though in much lighter forms. Mice or bugs, usually.  He’s even taught her to call him Beetlejuice - it’s been the easier name the children of Emily’s family learnt for generations, she still used it just to tease him sometimes. And now everyday he hears it from the mouth of her last creation.

When he first pulled the girl from the bathtub, Charles was terrified of living with her face. Nothing but the look of her, the shape of her features. But day after day, there’s something more. It’s not always something he can pin down, but his heart almost stopped the first time he heard her laugh.

The tiny girl sighs in her sleep, curling a little tighter around her familiar. Charles watches her for a moment more, and then looks down at the end of the note.

its not me @enigma-the-mysterious, @violet-prism-creatively @auburnlaughter, @zyrafowe-sny, @sourb0i

It feels wrong. Not that she’s usually particularly lightfooted, more that her body is supposed to feel exactly the way she intends it to. None of this full-body muscle fatigue shit.

She glares at the contents of the fridge, like it’s being difficult on purpose. She’s having a rare fit of appetite, but there’s nothing here that she can look at without thinking about how much it will hurt her throat to eat. It’s still burning from forcing down a handful of ibuprofen.

The fridge, it seems, is mocking her.

Before she can give up and skulk back to her room, a soft footfall sends a chill across her skin. Nimona turns immediately to stare at Ballister.

No, her head protests. Bad. Danger. Which is stupid, because that’s her boss.

“Oh, hey, Nim,” he says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. “Feeling like eating today?”

“Throat’s still awful.”

“Ah. But you’re looking?”

“Mm.” She slams the door. “Nothing decent.”

He sighs. “Nimona, please.”

“What?”

“You haven’t eaten for days.”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

She’s starting to drool now. Her mouth is flooded but it would hurt too much to swallow, so instead she wipes it on her tunic. Her clothes have changed; she‘s not much in the mood for chainmail right now, she formed this morning with a soft pink tunic and similarly soft and darker pink three-quarter trousers.

netherborne @quietly-sleeping, @asha10100101010 @1atteedge, @allofthebeanz, @kitten-kokomo

“For fuck’s sake-”

“They’re dead latches, I can’t do anything about them!”

He growls in frustration, but relents. Lydia sees Jock cringe slightly, clearly not too comfortable with letting him get so close.

“Where are the Maitlands?” she asks hesitantly. She doubts they’d be much calmer about managing five kids, but they’d probably be significantly less hostile.

“Still out looking for you.”

“Well, can you let them know I’m safe?”

“I will fucking get to it, Lydia. I’m doing you a favour here!”

“But-”

“Do you want me to get these cuffs off or not?!”

For the sake of the other girls, Lydia shuts up. This feels incredibly unfair. He’s pissed at her just because she didn’t want to wear a collar? Sure, the consequences of that action were dire, but she didn’t mean to get kidnapped!

[16woodsequ]

Community Wip Wednesday Response Oct 16/24

To anyone not in the know, I'm part of the wip wednesday community and made a post there. People in the group can comment to ask for more of the wips there. A recent poll indicated that people prefer to be tagged in a separate post with the snippets, so that's what I'll be doing here.

Dogs are the Best Judge of Character snippets for @quietly-sleeping, @somefishycat, @kallisto-k, @oriharaizayadividesintoslytherin, @sourb0i, @wizisbored, @whimsicalmeerkat, @stonemaskedtaliesin

Relieved to have some direction, Bucky blows out a breath and gets started switching out Scrappy’s food. His nose wrinkles as he removes the can of wet dog food from the electric can opener that he'd gotten for his birthday this year. He’s never liked the smell of dog food, wet or otherwise, and he holds his breath as he scoops out a portion into Scrappy’s bowl.

He leaves that in the bathroom for a few more hours until the next feeding time, and when he checks, Scrappy still has yet to eat anything.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Bucky worries, glancing between the bowl and the dog that is currently pressed up as far from him as possible in the corner. “Are you feeling sick?”

Of course Scrappy can’t answer him, but he gives him a look that’s a mix of fear and reluctance. Like he knows what Bucky wants and knows he hasn’t done it. It’s amazing the amount of feelings a dog can portray with just its eyebrows and huge blue eyes.

Bucky takes the bowl back to the kitchen and washes it out while some of the patties he still had in the freezer defrost in the microwave. They’re already cooked, and he places two in the bowl, blowing on them to cool them down. He would put more in there, but he also doesn’t want Scrappy to eat himself sick. He knows the dog must be starving by now. 

Conscious of what Bethany had said about vitamins, he cuts up half an apple and after a quick google, a bit of carrot as well. Hopefully that’s good enough for today. He makes a mental note to dive deeper into cooking for dogs because he doesn’t want to be this stressed about Scrappy’s eating ever again. 

Faces on TV for @kalira, @auburnlaughter, @asha10100101010

Tony sits in the courtroom next to Steve, his arms folded, sunglasses down. The circus show outside the courthouse was expected, but miserable nonetheless. Everyone wants to get a piece of Captain America when he admits anything close to the words 'emotional distress’. The case is such a spectacle that the judge ruled it would be televised. Televised trials weren’t a thing in Steve’s time, and he’d privately ranted about it to Tony in the labs, but he and Natasha had done their best to prepare Steve for it. 

Of course, next to him, Steve is sitting stiff as a statue, looking every bit the impervious Captain America people expect him to be. Tony hates that, but he knew this trial would be difficult the moment it first came up. 

Trauma kid fic for @cataclysmic-writer, @zyrafowe-sny, @tamsinswriting, @1attheedge

Her gaze shifts to Tony. “He needs some clothes.”

“Clint’s getting some,” Tony mutters a little sullenly, his bitten finger still clasped tight in one hand. 

Well at least that’s being taken care of. Natasha gives Bruce his turn, her mind focused on dealing with this one step at a time. It’s easier that way, because the other option is sitting in paralyzed shock over Steve’s state, which isn’t an option. 

“Bruce? What’s his situation?”

Bruce sighs and gestures vaguely. “JARVIS was able to scan him when we came in, but other than that I haven’t been able to really examine him, since he’s been–” he waves at the crevasse Steve has wedged himself in. “But, from the scans, he doesn’t seem to have the serum. Of course, we can’t know if it’s still there, or dormant, or whatever happened to it without a blood test—”

There’s a soft whimper from under the table, and Bruce winces.

[kalira]

omgsh just saw your pinned this is such a fun idea!!! trick or treat 🎃🎃🎃

^.^ Happy Halloween! 🖤🦇 I'm definitely having fun! XD

A very Cool Lounging Tachi for you!

The porch light's on for Trick-or-Treats!

[mad-madam-m]

I will be terribly predictable and go for Trevor Goes Back for the WIP Wednesday Game? *eyes*

"Stop whining like an infant." Alucard nudged him with his toe. "Or should I carry you into the castle like one?"

Trevor recalled Alucard carting him around the castle the night before like he was some kind of blushing bride, and sat up, his cheeks hot. "I can walk."

"Good." Alucard turned away from him. "I have plans for you later."

Trevor choked on nothing. "Come again?"

"Plans for later," Alucard repeated. "But first, dinner."

(WIP Wednesday! On Thursday! And maybe Friday!)

[anachronismstellar]

WIP Wednesday - 28/08

Omg hi hello uh 🧍‍♀️ as we can see it's been a while? In my defense- yea no I have no defense besides falling into another fandom head first fjsbakdnakd OTZ

But here it is all the lines for Waltz for the Dead!!

I'll do my best to get back on WIP Wednesdays as soon as I'm a bit more free ❤️

Tagging everyone who requested:

@somefishycat @aparticularbandit @wizisbored @asha10100101010 @enigma-the-mysterious @sourb0i @violet-prism-creatively @kalira @kallisto-k @post-and-out @adhdavinci @lizhly

Sentences under the cut!

------

“So let me get this right,” Jin Ling pressed his pinched fingers on his nose, sending a prayer to any Gods that might be hearing that this would be just Lan Jingyi's overactive imagination. “Of all my uncles, as you're so fond of pointing out, you saw the ghost of the one we know for sure that wouldn't be able to be here because he's very much walking around and shamelessly married to Hanguang-Jun. Is that right?”

“You know very well that Wei-quianbei is not actually Mo Xuanyu,” Lan Jingyi grumbled over his cup of tea, not meeting Jin Ling's eyes.

“No, I know that, because he died to get his revenge.” Jin Ling had to take off his hair pin, undoing his updo. He could feel his headache coming. “Remember that? Because I remember very clearly telling you, Lan Sizhui and Ouyang Zizhen about that.”

“Of course I remember that!” Lan Jingyi said with his tea cup clanking loudly against the table. “But something is happening, Jin Ling! Why would Nie-zongzhu go meet me at the gates after him sending a letter to me to help him with Qinghe's resentful energy?”

“He did what?!”

He didn't intend to scream, and he had been better at his bursts of reaction, as his jiujiu would call it. But knowing his uncle, he would react the same way if he knew about Nie-zongzhu going after Lan Jingyi's help. Not because of Jingyi, but for the fact of Nie Huaisang requesting for help at all.

Jin Ling wouldn't touch that with the longest sword in the world, but the Guanyin Temple night affected them all in different ways. How could it not? Jin Ling had gone through the most awkward family secrets reveal one could go under, all while being held hostage by his own uncle. Zewu-jun had to witness his closest friend and sworn brother go through all the stages of madness before killing him in what to this day no one knew if it were a genuine reaction or another of Nie-zongzhu’s lies. His uncle had the least exposure to the entire nonsense, but he still had to deal with the fact that Wei Wuxian was back and obnoxious as ever, on top of being all lovey dovey around Hanguang-Jun.

And then, there was Nie-zongzhu.

Jin Ling didn't remember much of that night, he had other pressing things to be worried about. But he remembered how collected and poised Nie-zongzhu had walked away from the temple, as if he had just gone out from a walk instead of witnessing his revenge unfold beyond the eyes of some of the most important political figures of the Cultivation World.

And Jin Ling hadn't been fully present for the whole Chief Cultivator transition, his uncle shielding him from most of the hysterics that followed that night. But he knew enough, and heard enough, to know that the entire five Sects were expected to crumble under the scandal and Nie Huaisang's weak pulse.

However, the complete opposite had happened. Nie-zongzhu stepped in and with a sweep of his fan was able to put measures to hold back the fire and the power vacuum Jin Guangyao had left behind. And such efficiency had one and one explanation only:

“How long had he been planning for this?” he heard his uncle whispering deep in the night, while piles and piles of documents covered his desk, a bottle of wine next to him long emptied.

The answer never came, be it in the form of letters or be it from Jiang Cheng demands to speak with Nie Huaisang in person.

If Jin Ling had any resentments against Nie Huaisang, it would be for the following years of silence between him and Jiang Cheng, as Jin Ling was forced to see his Uncle grasping straws to comprehend where it all began. How much of Nie Huaisang's friendship had been real? How much of it had been him using the Jiang clan for his own gain?

And the saddest thing? The moment his heart broke for his uncle into a million pieces?

When he caught Jiang Cheng sitting in front of Jiang Yanli mourning tablet, asking again and again-

“I could have helped. Why didn't he ask for help?” as if his sister would show up with a hug and soft hands to clear his tears away.

-------

Thank you everyone for the requests!

[mikkimadison]

I Want That Twink Obliterated for WIP Wednesday, please!

"You can't kill me," the frog whispered. "I'm not actually a frog!" Tobias glanced around to make sure the headmistress wasn't watching him; he'd be tossed into the dungeons for the night if he weren't careful. He was imprisoned either way but at least the upstairs came with two blankets, torn and thin as they were. "The fact that you look exactly like a frog begs to differ."

[veteratorianvillainy]

Superpowered Cowboys for WIP Wednesday, please!

Thank you so much for asking! Let's pretend I was timely XP

Superpowered Cowboys

Jexper snorted out a wordless noise, part offense and part derision.  Wildon raised a single brow. "Do you really want to pretend this is the best you could do?"

[aparticularbandit]

immortal witch riding hood for WIP Wednesday, please!

WIP Wednesday Game

Can do! Thanks so much for asking!

Your papa lives on the other end of town.  Maybe that’s why you’ve never seen him before.  You and your mama usually stay on your own side of town; she’s never really brought you over here, although you’ve known it exists.  It’s mostly for the people who have money.  Maybe your papa has money?