#ah. i think this will be forever a wip

[zhuzhee]

vast boys!!

[cruisingheightswithdragons]

Got around to drawing my Spore creature that I’ve had since I was a kid, recreating it in my latest run!

Their patagium lets the glide short distances (usually between trees), and their large tail fin helps steer them in the air. The fin on their prehensile tail also has stronger membrane with grasping capabilities, acting as a hand.

Upon becoming a space-faring species, they rely heavily on alliances with other nations, usually in the form of spice collection jobs. They also specialize in purple spice in the trade.

[datura-tea]

i guess, i guess, i guess this is the end...

[tekkenenjoyerblue]

I’m cooked 💀

[elvensorceress]

wip not-wednesday?

since I finished snickerdoodles of longing, and I have a whole 16K chapter of the sequel, have a snippet? @tizniz @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @kejfeblintz @smilingbuckley @chaosandwolves @smilingbuckley @bekkachaos @blutterlie @sazanahashi @livinginsunnyhell @epicbuddieficrecs @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @dangerpronebuddie @beyourownanchor6 love to all of you! yell at me if you share anything! I want to see it! 💕 this follow's Monday's snippet where Eddie is now in Texas and missing both his boys and for the record this is the song Eddie sent Buck because reasons

Eddie indulges with a hot shower after his morning workout and tries not to think about Chris getting ready for school and Buck working on a car collision and Eddie being absent for both of those things. 

He towels off, wraps it around his waist, and flops on the bed to thoroughly air dry before getting dressed. He also didn’t sleep that much and the bed is very enticing. He could nap for a bit before facing the rest of the day. 

As soon as he closes his eyes for a few minutes, his phone buzzes.

On screen Buck is still partially in his gear. He’s sweaty and looks soggy and grimy, but his hair is going crazy in all directions. And admittedly, it's pretty cute.

“I listened to your song,” Buck hangs up his helmet on the racks behind him. “Had to not cry all the way back here.” 

Not cry? Eddie never considered it a sad song. Hopeful and longing sure, but not sad. The lyrics talk about lying under the stars in a field of bluebonnets and a dream of touching earth and growing something wild and unruly. And also running away with a cowboy who sets his love free. “It made you cry? Or you wanted to cry?”

Buck shrugs out of his coat and gives him a weird face. “Yes, Eddie. Your song about being set free and rescued and having a happy life with the man you love away from everything else made me cry.”

Ah. Yeah, he can see how it would do that under that context. “It was one of my favorites when I was a kid.”

“Yeah, I get it. And here I thought you calling me ‘cowboy’ was just silly. And possibly homoerotic.”

Eddie smirks. And misses him like crazy. “It can be all of the above. Multitudes are contained in words and music.”

Buck finishes taking off his gear and shakes his head. Not like he disagrees. More like he’s amused. And then he takes a harder look through the phone, likely at Eddie, and glances around the station like he’s checking who might be around him. “Are you,” he says in a rushed whisper. “Are you naked right now?”

“I just showered. I have a towel on.” Eddie angles the phone down and back up because he’s sure Buck will want proof. 

Buck’s eyes are wide and dark when Eddie moves the phone back up to show his face. Buck is chewing his lower lip. And breathing heavily. “Eddie, fuck. I’m in the middle of the station floor. Someone will know! Someone will see!”

Eddie blinks a few times. “They’ll see what? I’m just shirtless. As far as they know. Anyone at the station has probably already seen me shirtless. Our locker room has glass walls.” Plus, no one cares about seeing a man without his shirt. 

Although Buck without his shirt is nice. Very nice. Beautiful. He’s so ridiculously beautiful. But it’s Buck. He’s the most handsome, beautiful, gorgeous. All those things. Eddie doesn’t even know how to describe him any other way. 

The background around Buck changes rapidly like he’s hurrying somewhere. But he's still clearly on the screen. And Eddie could look at him forever.

He’s soft and warm and strong and Eddie loves tracing the swirls of black ink all over Buck’s skin. He loves pressing kisses to his scars and imagining he can take away any associated pain. He loves the curves and bulges of muscles, the feel of soft, dense body hair. Or what would be dense and curly and everywhere if Buck didn’t wax off so much of it. Sure, it’s his body and his personal preference. If that’s what Buck likes, that’s what counts. But Eddie loves how it feels under his hands, against his own skin. It makes him tingle and ache and his heart rushes, and it’s like coming back to life, finally finding sensation. 

He loves that Buck let him touch and kiss anywhere and everywhere he wanted. Eddie wanted to leave love on every inch of Buck’s body, but especially the blemishes and places where he knows Buck is self-conscious about the way he looks. 

Eddie can’t look at him and see anything but beautiful. Perfect. He’s so perfectly Buck and so perfectly beautiful in every way. 

Okay, maybe he gets why Buck closes his eyes and makes some kind of tense hand gesture at him. 

Maybe Buck looks at Eddie and sees him as beautiful, too. Not that Eddie is bad looking? He knows people find him attractive. He knows quite a few people think that’s all he is. Nice face, pretty good body. Being a firefighter, a soldier, requires a certain amount of athleticism. But his face and appearance is just genetics. None of it really matters. Focusing on looks is shallow and reductive. And usually objectifying and invasive. 

But Buck knows him. 

It’s different if Buck thinks Eddie is good looking. 

It looks like Buck shuts himself in the showers at the station and pants heavily as he says, “Eddie. Honey. Baby.”

"Yes, love?" Why are they so far apart when all Eddie wants to do is kiss him all over and hold him forever? They shouldn’t be apart. It’s been a little over two days and he already hates this.

"You're naked. You-- you are -- you're. Naked."

Eddie smirks. “You know if you’re going to shower, you’ll have to get naked, too.”

Buck points at him through the phone. “Not helping! So not helping.”

Eddie must’ve missed the memo where he was supposed to be helpful. He misses his Buck, his partner, his-- he doesn't know what they're calling each other now besides that, but it doesn't matter because Eddie only aches for him.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip Whenevers

Got tagged by @sulphuricgrin <3 Editing to add @sanza-17 Thank you for tagging me!!!!

Going to tag @skyrim-forever @firefly-factory @dayundying @nyarevar @snowy-weather @archangelsunited and anyone else who's interested.

Posting writing and art today. We have one third of Joshi's hair and Sydari's pov from Serious Mistakes 18 which is almost finished.

Ya boi is pretty and almost done. I just need to finish his hair, do some layer magic and some finishing lighting.

Anyway, Josh left a party and Sydari runs into him afterwards. Under the cut for length. Featuring Joshi's Skaal fur coat and his special interest in Dwemer.

Sydari had seen what looked like a well-worn path that weaved into the forest not too far away from her tent and decided to explore it, hoping that the walk would clear her head and wouldn’t be too strenuous. Getting to Brodir Grove felt like scaling the side of a mountain though to her relief, the path was mostly downhill. The air was crisp, and the wastes were silent as she wandered the twisting path, the lantern in her hand the only thing aside from the waxing moons that lit her path. It was as she descended what looked to have once been a set of stairs carved into the earth that she saw a faint spark of red in the distance. The orange glow almost bobbed in the air, a tiny pinprick of light in a sea of inky black shadows and glowing dunes.

She cautiously approached, her other hand reaching for the hilt of her Razor just in case. Then she smelt it on the wind, the distinct smell of burning tobacco. She lowered her hand just as the silhouette of a tall, lean figure came into view.

“Didn’t think I’d see you around.”

Sydari stopped just as the light from her lantern illuminated the figure, leaning against a boulder, his thin frame swamped in a silvery fur coat.

“Didn’t think I’d see you either, Sero.” She sighed, raising her lantern a little higher to better illuminate the space around them. He’d wiped some of the ash paint from his face, a crusted, white border framing his blue-grey skin. His dark hair fell around his shoulders, messy and coarse as it usually was. He seemed tired, then again, he always seemed tired. He sighed as he flicked the end of his cigarette onto the ashy ground and crushed it with the toe of his boot.

“Yeah, well I—”

“You left the banquet,” She cut in before she could stop herself. He seemed a little taken aback, stepping away from the bolder, cane in hand as he approached what looked to be a sheer drop. He stopped a few paces from the edge and sighed. His grip tightening on the handle of his cane.

“Yeah, I did.” He stated bluntly. Sydari moved towards him, only stopping as he held out his free hand, “I needed some space.”

She swallowed, her heart beating faster at Teldryn’s statement. She watched as he turned a little, facing her as he spoke. His voice was small, melancholy. She wanted to reach out to him.

“I ah, I needed some space and like I told you before…” He sighed and scratched his nose, his gaze moving away from her and back towards the edge of what now appeared to be a sunken Dwemeri ruin. He started rubbing along the outside of his upper thigh, his teeth clenching as he looked back at her, “Needed to deal with shit that’s obviously my fault.”

 “I’m sorry about that,” She apologised with a sigh. She lowered the lantern a little, no longer illuminating Teldryn’s face.

“You’re apologising?” He tilted his head, his hand reaching for his pocket, “I um… ah—”

“I know you can’t control how that thing reacts,” she tried to explain, her voice a little panicked, “I um, I’m not sure why I lashed out at you like that.”

“Coz you’re mad at me for the other day, yeah?” Teldryn replied, his voice breaking a little, “Kinda figured you’re barely tolerating my shit as it is,” He nodded at his hip, “This thing being a fuck-up probably was the last thing you wanted to deal with.”

She sighed, choosing to take another step towards him, noting that he didn’t ask her to stop, “I still shouldn’t have rubbed it in your face.”

The corners of Teldryn’s lips turned up slightly, his gaze still trained on the ruin below, “Apology accepted, sera.”

She closed the distance between them, moving to stand by his side. She looked down into the pit below, its edges expertly cut and smoothed into a sheer drop. It made her feel a little sick, and she took a step backwards. Teldryn reached for her shoulder, his gloved fingers brushing against the fabric of her coat.

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a drop,” He smiled, taking a step with her, “Would you believe me if I said I’m not a fan of it myself?”

She bit down on her lip, glancing over at him as he let go of her, “Then why were you standing on the edge?”

Teldryn shrugged, the fur on his coat rippling as he moved his shoulders, “Curiosity, there’s a lever down the bottom of the tower that I’ve been trying to figure out. There’s a key slot but it’s not one of the puzzle locks that you usually find on these things. Looks more like some of the shit you find in Chimeri structures that used to facilitate teleportation. So, I’m wondering if there’s a connection since the ruins look like they’re First Council era an—”

“Teldryn, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sydari cut in. Honestly, she hadn't the first clue about these kinds of ruins outside of what one might be able to loot from it, and considering her experience chasing Mercer Frey through Irkngthad, she wasn’t quite keen to delve into one again.

She’d leave those jobs up to the more eager recruits.

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

☕︎ ꩜.ᐟ addie's works in progress!

hai everyone, this is where i store my upcoming works! shoot me a message or comment if you would like to be tagged in any of them! (or should i start a perm taglist idk lolol)

i'll keep this updated as much as i can (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ - addie (っᵔ◡ᵔ)っ

ᝰ.ᐟ lee heeseung ── 이희승

[wip!] fine line ── e2l!au, idol!heeseung, strangers to lovers!au ✎ᝰ. crack, teensy bit of angst, fluff

⤷ teaser coming out soon! (my next upcoming fic :3)

↳ heeseung’s got two problems: (1) he can’t sleep, and (2) he’s addicted to the 1AM combo of instant spicy ramyeon and coffee milk from his favorite convenience store around the corner. the only thing more consistent than his insomnia? his nightly visits for his beloved snacks (and maybe glare at the new night shift employee who seems to judge his food choices, too). & pstt, spoiler alert: you're the said new night shift employee.

ᝰ.ᐟ park jongseong ── 박종성

[wip!] love looks pretty on you ── friends to lovers!au, fakedating!au (kinda), golden retriever x black cat!duo✎ᝰ fluff, angst, crack, rom-com

↳ jay has mastered the art of romance—flowers, candlelit dinners, sweet nothings whispered over the phone at 2 AM—you name it. but commitment? yeah, not really his thing. but so isn’t being alone. love is fun, love is exciting, but love is not forever. at least, not for jay. you, on the other hand, think love is a glorified pyramid scheme formed by societal expectations. so, no thanks! so when jay proposes a deal—he’ll show you the fun side of dating if you help him figure out why his relationships never last—it’s purely educational. totally hypothetical. no real feelings involved. just two people trying to prove a point. except now, you’re starting to enjoy rom-coms, and he’s looking at you like you’re something worth staying for—and suddenly, you two discover that love isn’t just a scam or a fleeting thrill. maybe...just maybe—it looks a lot like the two of you. and that? that was never part of the deal.

ᝰ.ᐟ sim jaeyun ── 심재윤

[wip!] love, actually ── secretadmirer!jake (kinda, you'll see heh), childhood bestfriends!au, friends to lovers!au, highschool!au ✎ᝰ. fluff, crack, rom-com

↳ ah, love. l'amour. the very word stirs our imaginations and pulls at all our heartstrings. well—all except yours. after your bad luck with relationships, you're simply convinced that love is not for you. and a certain jake sim—your annoyingly persistent best friend—has made it his personal mission to prove you wrong. his brilliant plan? writing you love letters under the identity of a secret admirer. foolproof, right? well...if his goal was to make you fall for a completely fictional person, then sure—he aced it. there's just one teensy, tiny, problem: the more you swoon over your so-called secret admirer, the more jake starts to realize he might be the one in trouble.

ᝰ.ᐟ park sunghoon ── 박성훈

[wip!] love me if you dare ── idol!sunghoon, childhood friends to lovers!au ✎ᝰ. angst

⤷ based off this sneak peak i posted years ago! (literally posted it four years ago and finally now committing to finishing it...)

↳ in which you know exactly what (or rather, who) you want (p.s. it’s sunghoon), and you’re not afraid to show it. sunghoon, on the other hand? he’s afraid of many things—starting with the very real #1 fear of losing you, his lifelong best friend. so when you go and confess your feelings for him, sunghoon faces his worst nightmare. but between falling for you and losing you, he realizes there’s only one thing scarier than his number #1 fear—never even getting the chance to love you at all. and it takes him confronting that to understand that the perfect love casts out all fears.

[wip!] accidentally yours ── highschool!au (or college!au, i haven't 100% decided lolz) , classmates to lovers!au ✎ᝰ. fluff, crack, rom-com

↳ the universe has a funny way of working. some people find their fate in poetry, in the stars, or in the grand, sweeping moments of life. you? you find yours in the form of park sunghoon—a boy you keep running into in the most unfortunate ways possible. like how he threw a football straight into your face and broke your nose. or when he got way too drunk at a party and threw up all over your shoes. or that time he somehow managed to blow up your entire science lab during class. in other words—the five times the universe tries to tell you that park sunghoon is your fate…and the one time you finally listened. (and maybe fate had less to do with a broken nose and more to do with the way he looks at you like you’re his favorite accident.)

ps: no exact dates as of rn for when they get released,,,ty for your support & patience ᰔᩚᰔᩚᰔᩚ - addie

© jakesimfromstatefarm ── all rights reserved. all works & ideas & graphics are my own! pls no copying, stealing, or translating!

[blood-grove]

unnatural bleeding

merfolk au!

previous <- part 5 -> WIP

parings: gaz x reader

chars: gaz, price , soap , ghost

tws: blood, injuries, violence, past abuse, language, slow burn.

a/n: hehehhehehe finally new update :3 got rid of the rude reader tw cuz reader is gonna be annoyed at the world at best angry at worst plus i dont think ive been writing them rudely so also forgive me if the writing pov changes weirdly idk i have a hard time staying focused and consistent ill try better

tags; @chickennn-soupp @cassiecasluciluce @sans-chara @lethargicluv  @kaoyamamegami

What the hell was this place.

It seems all they did was stare at you and when you would clearly get sick of the mumbles and looks you'd splash them and they'd fucking laugh.

They were weird and the Gaz guy was weirder.

You found later his name was actually Kyle and he meant to clarify earlier.

But you found the silly nickname funny.

But this wasn't fun.

Being propped up on a large mat next to the side of the pool the leather felt uncomfortable under you, You also felt way too exposed as a few humans looked over your stitches and wrappings.

It felt weird there hands weren't rough but no one besides a few have touched you like this they were talking about something you'd care less to pay attention too.

As they examined you, Gaz kept trying to pull your attention away from the other humans.

Oh?

Was he jealous?.

Humans are so fickle it's funny.

-

Christ.

Even working with merfolk in the past Gaz still never got used to the bigger ones like you.

Scarface as you've been suitably nicknamed for the moment been alright and cooperative so far no biting or thrashing.

He'd likely guess the wounds were causing you to be so irritable they didn't look good when they first arrived problem had a couple of parasites on them along with other infections that are still being treated.

Price was observing the whole check up process.

You didn't speak much at least not to any of the other staff.

There were a few problems though.

Firstly they found you solo but there was still likely you belonged to a pod but which is the question.

Secondly, they couldn't keep you in the medical pool forever you were wild to some extent it would be cruel to keep you from you family.

Thirdly during your surgery, they'd found a piece of metal that didn't look important it was kept to be looked over in case it helped discover why you were in such a state, Price already guessed territorial fighting but you clearly (no offense) couldn't pick your battles.

Some of these scars and bites could have been lethal.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as you shifted clicking in annoyance he was quick to reach over for another fish from the bucket nearby by offering it up in an attempt to distract you.

"Are all humans this pokey?"

"No Scarface we just..need to make sure your healing okay..Then we can release you."

Kyle huffed as he gave you an honest smile ignoring the glare and grumble he received in return, You still took the fish though idly crunching on it.

They eventually finished the examination without much fuss except for you not so subtly tripping the newest volunteer who honestly should have been starting off with a much smaller mer than you.

But you start off somewhere.

Speaking of which it's about lunch time for them now and his break time, Kyle oversaw you getting back into the pool without much struggle before he left your area visiting by Price to mention he was going on his break before grabbing his lunch and heading to the docks.

He'd usually not have to wait long before they'd show but it'd seemed they were late.

It wasn't long till a familiar face popped up flashing teeth and all.

"Hey, Soap!" Kyle grinned as he looked to see the shark mer propping up his elbows onto the dock.

"Ghost comin'..?"

"Ah in a bit he's still getting his bearings.."

Now he was confused the last time he'd seen the pair and given them there updated shots and tags they'd been great.

The pair were unusual a Shark and Orca together seemed unheard of but yet just a few years ago now when Kyle had fallen overboard during an solo observation trip Ghost saved him from drowning.

Both of them were odd in a good way, Simon having been outcasted by his pod but he doesn't like to talk about it.

He had lots of scars all telling of countless battles of either for his territory or from just fights.

As for Soap, Sharks were solitary regardless but Soap had his own set of scars from fights some he shouldn't have tried starting.

"Bearings? What happended?.."

"Another fuckin' Orca smaller not as experienced grabbed me a few days back, Si really fucked em' up till the bastard clocked him on the head with there tail-"

Wait.

"Jesus , Where is he? I can get a team out and-"

"Ah ye know how he feels about humans..Plus he seemed to be swimming straight.."

"But Soap , He could have a concussion or maybe a facture-"

Soap sighed as he glanced back to the water before back at Kyle.

"Look..You can try convincing em'"

Soap frowned as Simon finally surfaced propping himself up onto the dock as well the wood creaking slightly under the weight of just Simons upper half.

"Ghost"

"Kyle."

Kyle huffed as he didnt even need to say anything as he went up to him giving him a look before he huffed grumbling quietly adjusting himself better so that Kyle could assess him.

Taking his time looking over the newer injuries they had healed well enough fishing out his little hand held flash light from his keychain in his pocket he checked Ghost's eyes.

After a bit of checking Kyle felt satisfied ignoring Ghost annoyed clicks.

"Mm..Now Soap you said it was another Orca right..? Did it come back?"

"Nah..Fucker swam off after bashing Ghost head..Pretty sure I could smell em' bleeding though for a bit till they got too far."

Right this was looking to be way too convenient and fitting to not match up with good ol' Scarface's condition.

"Mm..Alright..Anyway I brought some-"

"Treats?!" Before Kyle could even move his lunchbox away Soap had snatched it and Kyle let out a exasperated sigh not even fighting for it risk of being pulled into the water.

"Jesus Soap my lunch is still in there be careful- And dont eat the plastic!"

[ollypopwrites]

i got tagged by @the-bear-and-his-sunbird to post a snippet of a WIP and tbh I didn’t know what to post but I found something!

Tagging anyone who wants to play (please tag me I love to see what you are working on) and I am too distracted to think of all the lovely writers and their fics that I greedily want a sneak peak at.

This snippet was written at the beginning of a follow up to Aureate, a bit of a flashback moment. at this point I like what I wrote but am still unsure it has a place in that fic!! It is unedited and very much just like a spark of a thought i wrote out sooooo take it for what it is lol

Emmrich had known devastating loss, he met it very early and it had been somewhat of a companion for most of his life.

Suddenly and with striking finality he had become an orphan, with no other family willing or able to take him in. Home and parents, gone all in one fell swoop.

And he was a sensitive child, something that had never truly passed, not a phase or a fleeting reaction to tragedy. No, even forty odd years after the loss of his parents he was still quite easily moved to extreme emotion. The only thing that had changed was his ability to mask it, and even that was mediocre when the more pressing feelings washed over him in a tidal wave.

Loss was familiar but he never found it less harrowing. That initial detachment, the shock, had rendered him mute the first few days after his parents died. The first stage of grief was where one had to grapple with was the idea that someone was now forever absent. He had learned to trudge on through that, smaller losses had made it possible.

A first love, dashed and broken. Second, third and fourth loves in succession, deeply scarring in their start and end. The stark acceptance of dreams left behind. Indeed, lichdom had many appeals, one of which being that there would be no final grave next to his parents’. He had agonized over forewards of his books in editions published after his demise, mentioning a sparse trio of graves with no new names to add to the altar. The sharp edge of a lack of family in both directions; no parents, no lover, no children. It was only him and his work. The horrible ache of friendships thrown to the rocks. Johanna had been a slow but aching loss, one of the most memorable.

“So you didn’t get blown to bits! Aren’t you going to gloat? Volkarin the God Vanquisher! Pah!”

Even if she was still present in his life, and he had the slightest hope time would soften her to something less wretched (unlikely), the days where they could call each other friend were long gone. A new soreness bloomed, as he thought that the comfort of a friend who had been with him as long as she had would have been welcome.

Emmrich didn’t entertain a response to her jab. Nothing she said was going to soothe or even be remotely helpful. He’d be better off knocking on Taash’s door, who was actively melting everything in their room. Even now he could faintly hear a thud and a crash.

Poor, poor Taash. Their mother and now Lace.

Taash was not receptive to his approaches of comfort, but he was sure Rook would —

Ah. That’s right.

They had returned home from Tearstone Island three short. Lace Harding was undoubtedly dead, while Bellara was in all likelihood absorbed and dying a slow painful death by blight. Lovely ladies, very dear friends of his, the pair of them. Someone would need to water Harding’s plants, and he should organize Bellara’s scribbled notes to get them published for her. There were no remains to do anything with, and even if there were the others would have burnt them. Barbaric.

[obsessedwhyyes]

WIP Wednesday Thursday! (Close Enough)

Ahh, thank you @roguishcat for the tag! God, I don't think I've ever actually posted one of these on the correct day. Ah, well!

In the meantime, here's something a teensy bit different. An Astarion x Male!OC fic? In which the OC is an incredibly large, hulking beefcake of a man that just needs to let go every once in a while? Yep - that big mountain of a man is getting out-topped through the power of finesse and eloquence.

This is a snippet from Bending Steel, my first ever attempt at writing M/M! I've had this in my notes forever, but I'm only now actually working on the damn thing, haha.

No Pressure Tags: @davenswitcher @preciouslittlebhaalbae @inkymoonbunny @bloodsuckingfiends @chaoticbardlady99 @bardic-inspo @nerdallwritey

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

Happy Wednesday! Have some more of FDB's POV! They're finally out of the tree, FDB is still carrying an injured and exhausted DFS on his back, and he is currently trying to convince DFS (who is fighting to stay conscious) to let himself rest. (You can find all previous excerpts here.)

**

Fang Duobing smiled. At last, something he could do. “Alright, a-Fei. Home it is.”

For a moment, a-Fei relaxed even more against him. 

Then a-Fei stilled, all his muscles spasmed and clenched, and he jerked his head off Fang Duobing with a pained grunt, looking all around them.

“What’s wrong?” Fang Duobing asked, suddenly terrified. “Another qi deviation? An attacker? Do you need me to put you down? Or Yangzhouman?”

The ensuing silence seemed to last forever, although it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.  

“Home,” a-Fei said, his voice so wrecked it sounded like his throat had been sliced to ribbons. “To the left.” He swallowed audibly and tried again. “Around the hill.” 

Fang Duobing wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream, cry, shake a-Fei, or hold him tightly and never let go more. “It’s alright. We’ll find the way. I promise. Just rest. Try to sleep.”

Even as a-Fei shook his head, he was slumping forward. “Not yet,” he muttered. “Not here.” 

What was wrong with here? It was just a forest—

Oh. Fang Duobing winced. A-Fei had been unconscious in a forest after being cured of Wuxin Huai when Jiao Liqiao had kidnapped him the first time. 

“A-Fei,” Fang Duobing paused, trying to figure out what might convince him. “There are no enemies here. No danger. You can stop fighting now.”

A-Fei’s hair brushed against Fang Duobing’s shoulder as he shook his head again.“—’s always danger,” he mumbled. His head fell forward and landed on Fang Duobing’s neck again. He tried and failed to lift it again, then made a sound that was far too close to a whimper. 

Fang Duobing tried to breathe through the sudden, visceral need to travel to the past and make everyone who had ever hurt a-Fei and made safety a foreign concept wish they had never been born. “If we run into any danger, I’ll protect you, alright?”

A-Fei huffed a wet attempt at a laugh into his hair and his head twitched like he was trying and failing to shake it. “–’s my job, brat.”

Fang Duobing’s heart clenched as hundreds of proclamations tried to burst out from behind his closed lips: that a-Fei was in no shape to protect anyone at the moment, that protecting each other was all of their jobs and did a-Fei really think that his protection was all he had to offer? He was a person, not a dao! That a-Fei deserved to be protected, that a-Fei was protected now, and would continue to be as long as he, Fang Duobing, drew breath, and that no one would ever be able to harm him again. 

He swallowed them all back and tried to find an approach less liable to end in disaster. “It’s my job, too, a-Fei,” he said at last. “We can take turns, just like we’ve taken turns looking after Xiaohua’er. You already protected me, by helping with my qinggong. So now it’s my turn for a bit, alright?” He held his breath, hoping his words would convince a-Fei to stop fighting the pull of exhaustion, would let a-Fei’s clenched, shaking muscles lay down their tension. 

Nothing changed, although judging by the way a-Fei’s face rustled in his hair, a-Fei had rolled his eyes and raised a skeptical eyebrow, despite the pain and energy expenditure.

Well, there was one thing he hadn’t yet tried. And since a-Fei had thought that praising his qinggong was akin to rewarding Huli Jing’s new tricks with treats, then turn-about was fair play. Now, what precisely had a-Fei said? Ah, yes. “A-Fei?” He waited for a tired hum in response. “You did well, too. Good job. So rest, now, alright? As a reward.” 

A short pause. Then a-Fei’s faint, barely-there huff of amusement tickled the skin on the back of his neck. “–t’s not a new trick,” he said, so quietly Fang Duobing had to strain to hear it.

Fang Duobing smiled sadly and shook his head. Trust a-Fei to find a way to praise his own skills while barely conscious. And simultaneously to refuse to celebrate or rest. “I know. You always do well. You’ve had to. But you’re not alone anymore: you have us. And I know I’m not Xiaohua’er, and you don’t trust me like you trust him. But I promise, I will bring you to him and I won’t let anything get in the way. You’re safe, a-Fei. You can let go now, ok?”

There was a long pause. So long Fang Duobing wondered if he’d actually already lost consciousness.

A-Fei’s finger twitched, then gave Fang Duobing’s collarbone one last, faint tap.

Then a-Fei slumped against his back like a sack of rice. 

Fang Duobing closed his eyes, took a slow, deep breath, letting the crisp scent of the forest sink into his lungs and ground him until he felt less like he was about to cry or shake apart.

Huli Jing whined loudly, then nosed at Fang Duobing’s leg.

“I know,” Fang Duobing said. He swallowed, hiked a-Fei up higher on his back, and took a deep breath. “Lead us home, girl.”

Huli Jing took off, to the left, and around the hill.

Fang Duobing raced after her.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 11

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: Yo, things are getting intense at work.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

You leave a message for your landlord after several failed calls. You come out defeated and hesitant. Your apartment is your comfort, it's your safe space, but it's been breached and you're displaced here. As kind as Jonathan is, that can't last forever. He is your boss after all and you need your job.

The scent of cinnamon draws you to the kitchen, along with the subtle movement clinks and tinking inside. You lean on the doorframe as you watch Jonathan's back, the thin string of an apron tied around his waist and a thicker band along his neck. He hums as he pushes down the plunger of a glass coffee press.

"Uh, hi," you eke out and his long fingers nearly take off the lid of the press. He chuckles and steadies it, shifting to look at you, "er, morning."

"Morning, barely," he muses as he glances at the digital number glowing on the stove, "I've got some scones in and I think we could pair it well with some porridge, if you're fond of it. Or perhaps, yogurt and some fresh fruit. A touch of granola…"

"Yeah, uh, you didn't have to do all this," you rub the back of your neck, "I left my landlord a message. I should head out and figure out a locksmith–"

"Ah, yes, I forgot," he extends a finger, "I've taken care of all that. My own lessor had some recommendations and I was able to arrange the repair. The keys should be delivered shortly–"

"Oh," you blink and chew your lip. He's so helpful. Too helpful. Or maybe you're ungrateful. "Again, thanks, I… I owe you. For a lot it seems."

"I hope it wasn't too much," he says as he checks his watch and grabs the oven mitt, "I only thought to ease the burden–"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You have everything figured out and I'm just helpless," you throw your hands up and cover your face, immediately scalded by your own temper. Why did you say that? "I'm sorry. I'm just so stressed, I can't think. I just want everything to be normal and…" you suck in air, pressing the heels of your hands to your forehead as you rant, "and I'm not this kind of person. I'm the sort to…" you inhale again, dizzy as it stings in your chest, "I just… I just…"

You bend over, clutching your head as you feel like folding. You're startled as Jonathan's hand clasp around your arm and he pulls you up, gently guiding you to sit on the short foot stool beside the counter. He gets to his knees and grips your shoulders, holding you straight as your head lolls. You don't know what's going on, it's like you've lost control of your body.

"Fawn, breathe. Yes? Let's count, one - in," he exhales, "two - out," his thumbs caress you through your shirt, "in… out. Three, four…"

You focus and close your eyes. Are you really having a meltdown in your boss's home? You count in your head, then outloud, measuring you breaths until your heart peters out.

"There we go," he slowly releases you, putting his hands on his knees as he stands with a low grunt, "if the caffeine is too much, I can squeeze some orange juice–"

"I'm fine," you reach up and pull yourself to the feet with the edge of the counter, "really, you've done enough."

"I've done what any decent person would," he shrugs as he opens a cupboard, "you are obviously dealing with a full plate, but I can't help but feel I don't know the half of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Car break's down and you get a visit from a home intruder. A string of bad luck, certainly, and it would have anyone addled, but… there seems a bit more than that. Something that's been bothering you a while," he pours two mugs of coffee, "it isn't my place to delve into your personal life, but I will say, I would help if I could. If you asked."

You shudder. You don't know what to say. The plucking in your chest wants you to tell him everything but that tick in your head says it's none of his concern. You've crossed enough lines. 

He doesn't need to pick up after your stupid feelings. You made the dumb decision to crush on your neighbour, to welcome him in, to fawn over him like an unloved wife. Now you just have to deal with.

Hopefully, the new lock is just the beginning of shutting Colin out of your life.

"Really, it's just the car and the door. I'm sure you've got enough going on with the audit, huh," your voice shakes, betraying you.

"Ah, yes, standard," he places a cup before you, just on the corner of the counter, "I've done it before. Nothing out of the usual," he hooks his finger through the handle of his own mug, "well, one special thing; I don't mind the people." 

He smiles as he lifts his coffee and you feel the world brighten just a lt.

No. No. Not that feeling. Not that flutter. Didn't Colin teach you better? Oh boy. You're not thinking straight, you're tired, you haven't had your coffee, you're crazy!

You pick up your cup and blow out a chestful of air. Get your head on straight. One man at a time. No, one thing at a time.

💗

“You know, I don’t mind if you’d rather stay another night,” Jonathan keeps one hand on the steering wheel, his other arm slack against the armrest, “I can understand if you don’t feel safe–”

“No, I’m good. I just want to get back on track. Everything feels so… disorderly.”

“I know what you mean. Even if I tend to live a nomadic life. Some people thrive on being settled, others not so much,” he muses, “have you heard about your car? Do I need to keep Pine’s luxury taxi in service?”

“Taxi? Oh, I’m so sorry. No. I uh, I can take the bus. And I can spot you some gas money–”

“I’m joking, darling,” he assures with a ripple of his fingers, “I don’t mind. It’s nice to have someone else for the morning ride. I find waking up alone a bit sombre… in a strange city. I’m a far way from home.”

“Uh, yeah, I can’t imagine…”

“I recall you mentioned you’ve never visited England. Pity. You should think about it one day. If you need a personal tour guide…”

“Mmm, yeah, maybe someday. Probably not anytime soon,” you mull and turn your gaze out the window.

“Of course,” he agrees, “I shouldn’t complain so much, traveling for work can really be a privilege. I know at least, it has afforded me the luxury of meeting many good people.”

“Yeah,” you say absently as your vision blurs and your mind drifts.

“...sisters? You said you have some a few towns over?”

You shake yourself from your trance. Your head clears as you straighten in your seat.

“Yeah, my one sister is pregnant, another’s getting married, the other two… well, they’re younger, they’re still growing up,” you say, “don’t really see them much.”

“Lots going on. So there’s going to be a wedding?” He prompts, stopping at a light.

“Hm?”

“Your sister?”

“Er, yes, yeah, actually, I still haven’t got the invitation,” you chuckle nervously, “I’m sure it’s in the mail.”

“And are you a bridesmaid?”

“I… she didn’t say anything,” you utter. You hadn’t even thought of that.

“Well, I’m sure she has a lot to plan, in due time,” he cranks the wheel and pulls a U-turn to come parallel to the curb in front of your building, “you are delivered. Nice and safe.”

“Thanks again,” you grab your bag from your feet and hit the button on your seatbelt. “I really… I owe you.”

“You don’t,” he assures, “all I ask is that you text me. Let me know you’re safe and behind locked doors.”

“Huh, yeah, I can do that,” you almost sigh in relief.

It’s weird. You dread being alone but you long for it. Your solace has always been by yourself. You just have to keep Colin out and you’re hoping that Ally will already have him distracted. You think back to the day before and how eager she was to get him to herself. Yeah, he doesn’t care that much about you. That’s what started this all.

“Well, I’ll see you at work.”

“See you at work,” he returns, his tone as lacklustre as you ever heard it.

You get out, a tug of guilt at the nape of your neck. You feel like you should say something else but you don’t know what. You let the door close softly as you step onto the pavement. You head up the walk, not looking back, too embarrassed to.

You let yourself into the building and pull out the new key from the locksmith. It’s shiny and silver with a yellow thread strung through the eyehole. You ease the front door closed behind you and listen to the building. It’s quiet, mostly.

You climb the stairs one by one and peek down the hall before you come up completely onto the second floor. There’s no one there and your door is as it should be. Locked tight and on the hinges.

You make your way down towards it, carefully to keep your keys from jingling. Your bag falls down your elbow as you wiggle the lock, the new key not catching right away. A click and slow grind jars you and as you look over, you nearly scream.

Colin appears from behind Ally’s door. Shirtless, in his usual grey sweats, looking casually sinister as he places a hand on the door frame. He snickers as he steps out. You turn back and fumble to twist the handle.

As the door opens, he’s on you. He closes you in as he catches the handle and pulls the door shut. You whimper and turn to face him, cowering as he sneers at you. You press yourself to the wood as he crowds you.

“Think you can run away with that pretty boy?” He taunts, “think I wouldn’t be waiting?”

“Colin, I– I’m sorry–” you gulp and look over, “Ally…”

“She’s off on another work trip. Kinda like you, huh? Hanging out with her boss off the clock. You must’ve had a lot of fun.”

“Look, whatever I did, it’s… there’s been a misunderstanding, alright? We’re friends. We were… I’m sorry I misinterpreted–”

“Honey, you are so stupid. I’m not done with you.”

“Please–” you beg.

“Get this. You were the perfect girl. You cooked, you did my laundry, you let me use your Netflix, that’s what every guy wants but you’re just not fuckable,” he scoffs, “well, my perspective changed on that. You know,” he leans in further and lowers his voice. “I didn’t picture myself balls deep until I saw you shaking in fear.”

“Get away,” you croak and push against his chest, “I’ll scream.”

A subtle click mutes his response as he opens his mouth but clenches his teeth. He tilts his head and listens. You hear the deep grumble of your downstairs neighbour, Curtis? You can’t remember, you never see him. He waits and pokes his tongue into his cheek.

“You fucking scream and I’ll remember. I’ll make sure when I fuck you that it splits you in half. So be a nice girl, like you always are, and let me in.”

“Please,” you reach to grip the key, trying to free it from the lock. You could jab him with it, get him off of you for long enough to get inside.

“If you wanna pretend I’m that preppy fuck, I don’t m–”

He jerks and nearly headbutts you as he bounces off the doorframe beside you. He cradles his face as he grunts and you gape at Jonathan as he squares his shoulders and steps up. How?

“You will back away,” Jonathan warns, “go back to your pathetic apartment and stay there.”

“Ah, not this douche–” Colin slips his hand down his cheek, revealing the split in the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, this douche,” Jonathan confirms, “I smelled it on you. I knew you were nothing but a weasel.”

“Whatever. She’s been begging me for it,” Colin spits, “you know, she sits there and pouts, watches me from across the hall, listens to me through the wall as I fuck girls hotter than she’ll ever be, wishing it was her–”

Jonathan moves so quickly, it leaves you stunned. The crack of his fist against Colin’s face makes you yipe and you quiver as you catch your voice in your hands. You keep flush to the door as your eyes wet.

“I do not like violence,” Jonathan says as he rubs his knuckles, “but I am not unfamiliar with it.”

“Fucker!” Colin bends over, drops of his blood landing on the floor.

“If you persist, I’m afraid I must as well.”

“Urgh,” Colin stands straight and spits onto the hardwood, “just wait…” he looks past Jonathan, “he can’t be here all the time.”

He turns and stomps away, keeping his hand on his jaw as he snorts and coughs. You stare after him, shaking in humiliation. It all happened so fast.

Jonathan waits until Colin’s door slams before he turns to you. He puts his hand on your shoulder and you flinch, “why didn’t you tell me it was him?”

You shake your head and stick your lip out.

“I should’ve guessed,” he tuts, “twisted man. Absolutely repuls–”

“How did you get in here?”

“A man let me in. Downstairs. Um, beard, very blue eyes,” he explains.

“Why?”

He gives half a smile, “ah, you left this in the front seat,” he holds up your lip balm, “I was trying to return it.”

“Oh,” you glance past him, frowning at Colin’s door.

“Darling, I know you are growing tired of me but I simply cannot leave you alone.”

“Yeah,” you nod numbly and turn to the door, jerking the key to the side, “I don’t wanna be alone.”

[kittonafoxgirl]

Hi!! 👋 For the podficcer asks, please: #2, 11, 12 ❤️

Thank you for the ask :3 questions are from this AO3 wrapped podficcer edition list

#2 How may podfics did I publish this year?

29 solo and 26 multivoice. I'm not the one who posted most of the multivoice ones but I assume they still count since I'm in them.

I have four more that are for sure going up before the end of the year (all obikin. Three Christmas ones and my second big bang project) and several podfics I made earlier in the year that I'd really like to get posted before January (these are a variety of things).

#11 what podfic took me the longest to make?

So I can't say I timed these so I don't know for sure which one took the longest, but there's three that definitely stand out as ones I spent a lot of time on.

The Odyssey - I did Odysseus and his lines were only ~30k ish and I wasn't doing anything fancy to them, but recording took forever because I was constantly having to triple check my name pronunciation. Odysseus has a thing for mentioning people's names. So. Many. Names.

This one isn't fully posted, but I did finish recording my part for it

Of Queens, Knights, and Pawns - I ended up personally recording nearly twice as much of this one as I'd originally planned (~80k recorded so far. 55k ish of that is posted). I have one more 14k chunk to record and I'm donnnneeee with my part of it. We only have 3 chapters left to post so hoping they'll be up by the end of the year.

My second obikin big bang podfic which I don't think I'm allowed to mention the title of yet. It was also around 30k and it has an "I lost count before I even finished chapter one" number of sound effects in it that I have spent hours adding and tweaking. I'm very excited to share it :3 It posts next Monday, the 9th

#12 what podfic plans do I have for next year?

I really really want to finish one or two of my three long wips. (Preferably two. Buttt I'm easily distracted by shiny things (read: new shorter projects))

Oh where do we begin? I have 6 of 30 chapters finished and posted. I'm almost 7 hours into what will be somewhere in the neighborhood of 26 hours when it's done.

Asylum I have 12 of 33 chapters finished and posted. Roughly 5 hours into what will be ~19 hours.

Precipice I have 9 of 83 chapters done and posted. Only about 2 hours into this one and it'll be roughly 24 hours finished.

Oh where do we begin? Is the priority because I've been working on it the longest and because it's the fic that got me obsessed with obikin. It is fantastic, highly recommend. But ah, read the tags first.

Then once I don't have 3 massive wips hanging over my head, I'm going to start recording Priciples of Navigation. It's only 145k so a lil smaller than these guys 😂

Super excited to work on that one, but I cannot add it to the pile til at least one of these beasts is finished.

And of course I intend to let myself get distracted by several smaller obikin works throughout the year :3

[pocket-vvardvark]

WIP Wednesday

Ty for the tag @skyrim-forever @thequeenofthewinter <33

I'd like to tag: @aviel-the-trans-bucket @hircines-hunter @fangsandsoftgrass @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @scholarlyhermit @sanza-17 @sulphuricgrin @changelingsandothernonsense @progmetol @varlaisvea @yansurnummu @yewphoric @lucius-the-sinful no pressure as always!! ♥️♥️♥️🥰 Love ya'll with my whole heart

I've got a new chapter in the works for sweet decay 🤪 so, here's the WIP under the cut bc it's sorta long

Rivenspire is cloaked in the warmth of the sunrise. Blooming across dry earth, it softens the land’s foreboding appearance into something habitable. Having been awake for far too long, Verandis palms his sunken eyes as the soft glow filters in through open windows behind him. At the very least, the weather was somewhat pleasant in favor of the most recent heatwave. His body is no longer among the living, but the heat still drove him onto the edge of exhaustion just as easily as it would to a human. Voyage to Lillandril would be a pleasant escape to the lingering heat, and a part of him missed Summerset. Among the cities in Summerset, he supposed Lillandril was the fairest. Cradled upon the sea, the wind which swept only the most beautiful flowers was tinted with a satisfying chill against the heat. His thoughts shift to Angelica; briefly imagining her time on the island. Yesterday, she mentioned her distaste for Altmer culture, which was fair in its own right. No matter how hard a half-breed attempted to live up to their purpose, no full-blooded Altmer would label them anything but an Ephem. As saddening as it was, this was the way of his people. Thumbing over a groove on the hardwood of his desk, Verandis mulls over his relationship with the pesky minx. It was growing, that's unfortunately true, but to what extent? It had been an incredibly long time since he called another his lover, and oddly enough, Angelica didn't seem the type. She seemed content to toy with him, refusing to acknowledge him as anything other than good fun. Although, her gentleness from the other day did start to confuse him. The whole situation vexed him; feeling like a bumbling idiot left in the dark of some grand plan. Years of building House Ravenwatch softened him, and maybe that was why he was far too slow on the uptake. Regardless, the job needed to be completed, and he supposed he should use her…talents she so dramatically bragged about. The sun rises above the trees, signaling it was time to move. Verandis does so, gathering the bare essentials and finally roaming the halls until he reaches Angelica’s room. Raising a hand to knock, his knuckles fail to reach the door as it's opened before he can. 

She smiles. It's surprisingly bright for how strangely she acted the other day. Another facade? He'll see in time, Verandis assumes. 

“So…it's time?” Casting red hair aside, she tugs it into a messy bun of locks, then pats her leathers down. Ah, another surprise; that she's actually wearing proper clothes this time.

Prepared to suffer by her hand from whatever acts of mischief she'll no doubt drum up, Verandis answers with the utmost exasperation, “Yes. Bring along what you need.” Squinting, he watches as she disappears back into her room to procure a satchel.

“I do hope that's necessary.” 

Laughing as she peeks into the standing mirror, she makes one final adjustment to push her breasts up. “Oh, hush. We're taking a trip to the market, right? I'll need gold for that…among other things.”

‘Among other things’, that little remark did not inspire much of anything in him but annoyance. She hoists her arm into his, linking together as she bats her lashes. “I’ve been waiting for a chance like this; to come along on some grand adventure with the Count of House Ravenwatch. My sister told me all about you, you know.” 

He's pulled along with her, walking a stride slower due to their height differences. It would seem her younger sister had a bit of a loose tongue. Thinking about Alethia softens his expression, though, he knows there was no ill intent behind her excited story-telling. She couldn't keep a secret, that much he knew.

“Did she, now? I can only pray she had good things to tell.” They pass the doors, already walking down the rough, cracked path to shornhelm. 

Making a sound rivaling that of a disgruntled guar, he’s bewildered enough to glance down at her. She sticks her tongue out once he does, “That's what I think about your stupid attempts at being posh. Or…maybe you're shy. Are you shy, count?”

She snorts, tugging at their linked arms with an impish grin. 

“You-” Verandis scoffs, but he makes no move to wriggle away, only yielding to her kisses placed on his cheek. “I'm not shy. You're just…too overzealous for me. Not even Gwendis is this tiring, I should have you know.” 

Gasping dramatically, she feigns a sniffle, “Breaking my heart so soon? How could you…I thought we shared something special.” 

“Special? Hm, I had the distinct feeling I was but only a tryst to you, Angelica.” Their footsteps halt on the barren path of dirt as Verandis stops. He grazes a knuckle over her cheek, relishing in her sudden speechlessness. There's a hint of intrigue in her eyes, but something much less distinct; embarrassment. 

“Tsk, tsk…” the pad of his thumb strokes the tip of her cheek bone, “Projecting, are we?” 

Life spreads back into her features, moving her lips as her expression excites, “Projecting? No way, now you've got to buy me something like you promised.” 

Nothing gets past her, he's sure of that as she reminds him of what foolish words he uttered last night. It almost worked, if she hadn't been so perceptive. No matter, it would prove useful in the next days they’d spend together 

“A shame you hadn't kept your promise, then.” She blinks, fascinated by the ethereal hue his carmine eyes take against the bright sunshine. It steals her breath away, causing the briefest stirring deep in her belly. Truthfully, she was beginning to fluster at the sight of him like this; gazing down at her with such a romantic expression, like he could dip her back any second for a kiss. There was no love lost between any number of her trysts and herself, as the fickle emotion only served to complicate things. It stood in the back of her mind, though, as if it tempted her into taking that step. Oddly numb, she couldn't make sense whether she even wanted love. Sure, she'd never stayed quite this long with any of her romps, but it felt strange to just up and leave like they never met. Perhaps it was as her mother said, that one day she would want to settle down, to be with the one man who stole her heart. A flush does make its way to her cheeks, so light a dusting that Verandis nearly mistakes it for the sun on her skin. She takes her own embarrassing reaction in stride, smiling to him so lovingly that they both falter in each other’s grasp. Unlike the night they shared, it is him who concedes first, his grasp brushing away so softly she misses it. Clearing his throat, they continue down the path until Shornhelm can be peered at in the distance. The blob grows until she can see the roofs, the people, and of course, the market. Angelica observes the sights, its fairly different from both of her homelands from what she can recall from both Summerset and Western Skyrim. Hard times have clearly claimed most of Rivenspire’s goods and, frankly, the morale, too. Most shopowners looked more like they were proud owners of shacks rather than appealing homes; it went double for their wares, unfortunately. The only exciting things left were the rare pieces of jewelry she spotted along the way, and the occasional sneak she took of the count’s face while he was deep in thought. A local apothecary catches her attention, drawing her closer until several ingredients greet her eyes. The woman looks only to be a few years younger than herself, smiling but ragged after whatever turned shornhelm into turmoil. Hopefully, after her sister’s little adventure here, things would get better. Nevertheless, Angelica wasn’t entirely heartless, so she took what little ingredients were left and paid a little extra. She winks, and tugs the count along before the young woman can argue against the generous amount of coins splayed across the worn market stall.

“Well…I believe that’s all I’ll be in need of. Never hurts to pack a few poisons.”

If he noticed what happened, which she realizes he must, it doesn’t earn her a conversation. Either perturbed by her shocking display of kindness, or their recently shared embarrassment, Angelica cannot tell beneath his seemingly aloof gaze. 

“We should get a move on, then. Rivenspire lacks ferries, so we’ll have to carriage our way to Glenumbra.” She wants to kick herself for feeling disappointed he doesn’t thrust his arm out for her to hold, but makes due with this new development. It’s not like they were close, but she was finding herself longing for some type of…praise from doing good. Divines, did whatever happened last night really affect her that badly? She hadn’t thought so, until her thoughts soured from every woman which passed their way to ogle Verandis’ human disguise. A part of herself swelled in pride when they sunk back down upon her appearance by his side. That feeling was only doubled when she realized they would never know his secret, and such an intimate secret it was. Jealousy wasn’t her style, but she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to swathe the Count in her perfume before exiting the castle next time. He certainly smelled better in it than whatever ancient perfume he wore beside her. Curious, she peeks over to marvel at his disguise. Honestly, she preferred how he always looked; with eyes as red as rubies and alabaster skin. It simultaneously enthralled and got her feeling rather heated. Such raw and dangerous intent was no longer evident in his now honey-colored eyes, and that left her feeling quite bored. Although…she could make due with those amber eyes if they watched her with the utmost adoration; that would be her goal for the day.

Grinning, she’s back to her confident self, looking as mischievous as a nixad. He realizes she snickers like one, too.

“Do I dare ask what you’re conjuring up behind me? I fear you, at times.”

Prancing back to his side, her fingers curl into his own, forcing him to slow his stride once more.

“Nothing much, just admiring the view.”

He snorts, “Of my backside? How quaint.”

Nudging him, he gains an eyeful of the sweet little twist of her lips, “It's a very disarming backside.” 

Sighing, he can't help but chuckle at that, “Whatever shall I do with you?”

His eyes jump between her own, searching for the reply her lips twitch with. Angelica settles for a gentle peck on his nose, laughing when he wrinkles it from the tickle. 

“I'm sure you'll dream up some elaborate plan to keep me quiet, darling.” 

[umbracirrus]

WIP Wednesday-!! 💛

I'm not sure if I've ever shared any of this scene for the currently in progress chapter of The Perfect Storm on a Wednesday before, but I'm sharing it today anyway because I've done a little work on it!! I know I've definitely shared pieces of it on discord though 😅

Tagging @hircines-hunter, @skyrim-forever, @thequeenofthewinter, @bostoniangirl21 and anyone who wants to share a WIP 💕

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“Dragonborn, just the woman I was hoping to see,” Proventus remarked as he caught sight of her making her way past the two longtables which surrounded the central hearth. “The Jarl was hoping to take a minute or two of your time, but has had to step away from Dragonsreach for a moment.”

“Oh... What for? Should I just wait here?”

“Ah, no. He said that if he hadn’t returned by the time which you did to ask if you could wait for him on the porch. He shouldn’t be long. He also didn’t tell me why he wished to speak with you.”

Her eyebrow raised. “Lydia wasn’t with him, was she?”

Proventus stared at her with confusion before shaking his head. “No. Your housecarl hasn’t been in Dragonsreach today.”

Though she was still suspicious, she nodded and began to make her way up to the porch. It was deserted, beyond there being a guard stood by the doorway. She made her way over to the balcony, and closed her eyes as she felt the cold wind against her face.

When she heard the doors open, she waited for a moment before turning around as Balgruuf made his way over to her. She gave him a slight smile when he was close enough.

“So... Proventus said that you wanted to meet me here?” she asked, stepping away from the balcony and closing the distance between them. “How come?”

“I wanted to ask you something. It seemed to be something you didn’t like to talk about with people nearby, so I thought to ask it here.”

Oh, she knew what this was about...

“This morning... Why didn’t you say that it was your-“

“It’s not a big deal. I don’t like making it a big deal. Lydia seems to think the opposite though...” She let out a sigh. “She seems to think that the Dragonborn should have a big birthday party... I just wanted what I’ve always had, a quiet day without any fuss. I’ve just been hiding away in places that I felt were quiet enough for me.” She then let out a sigh. “It’s silly, I know-“

“I don’t find it silly at all...” Balgruuf then took a deep breath. “May you oblige me with just one thing though?”

Elyse’s brow furrowed. She was beginning to suspect that this was one of her housecarl’s machinations, and that she had somehow managed to rope Balgruuf into it. “... I’m not going anywh-“

“I’ve got you a gift. Please...”

It was only then that she noticed that this whole time, he had been holding onto a box. She blinked for a moment, glancing between it and him, before giving him a puzzled look. “Wh... Why?”

“Elyse. You’ve had a lot happen over recent months. The least you deserve, for your birthday no less, is something nice.”

When she realised that he wasn’t going to allow her to not accept the gift, she slowly took hold of the box and pursed her lips together as she untied the ribbon which was around it. She then opened the box, and her eyes widened. It almost fell onto the floor as her hands shook. “Those are...”

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip Whenever

Got tagged by @skyrim-forever @sanza-17 @nyarevar @lobo-inu @firefly-factory @saltymaplesyrup <3

tagging @sulphuricgrin @thescrolls-haveforetold @scholarlyhermit @viss-and-pinegar @archangelsunited @pocket-vvardvark no pressure tagging as per usual.

I've done a bit recently on both the Yani painting and chapter 19 of Serious Mistakes so I'll post a bit of both.

Art first.

(Click for full) Yani's got a face! I'm happy with how his eyes turned out. I gotta start on his face scaring next.

POV sad, fight prone smuggler who barely speaks Redoran Dunmeris properly makes eye contact with you from across the corner club.

Next we have a chunk of writing that i'll put under the cut. It's a dialogue scene between Josh and his niece, the Urshilaku Wise Woman circa 4E 199. This is during a healing session (roughly 1000 words).

“When did you get cut?” She frowned, pointing at his shoulder, “It looks recent, and the stitches have broken, why didn’t you tell me about it when I was healing the cut on your temple?”

Teldryn sighed and glanced at his shoulder, noting the small droplets of blood that welled along its surface, “Was fighting off an ambush a few days ago an got a taste of the fucker’s sword. The ah…outlander patched me up.”

“See, she likes you,” Ki smiled as she uncorked the potion and handed it to him.

Teldryn shook his head as he brought the potion to his lips and took a drink, grimacing at the bitterness of it, “Nar she just found me half gone in a cave. Means nothing.”

He could feel his cheeks flush as he finished the potion, feeling the pain that was radiating throughout his body slowly lessen. Gods, why was he having this conversation now… with his niece of all people? The fact that she was grinning at him the way she was only served to enhance his embarrassment.

“Oh, I see how it is,” She teased, taking the empty glass vial from him and placing it to the side, “Teldryn you are allowed to be happy.”

“It’s not—” Teldryn stammered, pouting a little, “I don’t— It’s complicated, Ki.”

“Dae’ata, you say that about everything,” She sighed, “She seemed sad when you left dinner last night.”

“I ah…” He sighed, dragging his hand across his face, “I didn’t exactly make the best first impression…or second— third. You know how I’m a fuck up.”

Ki frowned, reaching over to better examine his shoulder, “You put too much pressure on yourself.”

“If I don’t then I fuck up, Ki,” Teldryn frowned, “Or Nerevar fucking escapes an starts running amok. Which is what happened.”

“Nerevar doesn’t like new people, I know,” She replied, moving off the bed again and moving towards her bag, “I think I can heal that gash enough for you to not need those stitches. If you can just sit up.”

Teldryn did as instructed, pulling himself up and resting his back against the carved bedhead. The position sent an uncomfortable tugging sensation through his pelvis.

“I do not like that you are still making that face,” Ki frowned, sitting beside him again. She passed him a still steaming mug of what smelt like black kaveh, and he was thankful for the warmth of the mug between his palms.

“I think tilting it outwards pulled something or…I don’t know,” Teldryn mumbled, shaking his head, “It feels like knots in there.”

“Well, there should be a lot of scaring if my predecessor’s notes are anything to go by,” Ki sighed as she brought a small set of sheers to his shoulder and started snipping at the remaining threads, “And I can feel a lot of resistance in it when I was moving it around. The fact that you can still walk without assistance on a good day really is a marvel.”

“Your aunt was as talented as you are with this sort of thing,” Teldryn smiled, taking a sip of his kaveh.

Ki shook her head, biting on her lower lip, “I am still trying to understand what gave her the idea to just cut you open and heal the bone from the inside.”

“I ah…I don’t really remember much of it,” Teldryn mumbled, his gaze falling to his lap, “but apparently nothing else was working because of the Corprus.”

Ki nodded, carefully pulling out each stitch from his shoulder, “Sometimes I wonder whether I should replicate it, try and heal some of the scaring internally.”

“An subject yourself to the ooze that’s in there?” Teldryn grumbled, “Nar it’s not necessary, dumu. I’m fine.”

“It is a thought,” she sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “I guess I want to see you riding guar again, as in the stories.”

Teldryn chuckled, trying his best not to strain his aching muscles too much, “I think I’m a bit past ever doing that again. Besides, I wasn’t actually all that good at it, was more Erra’s thing.”

“Still, I wish I could have seen it,” She smiled warmly, readying her spell in her hand, “I mean in a way that I could remember.”

“I remember Erra taking both of us for a ride up to the coast,” He smiled to himself and tried his best to relax as Ki cast her spell, “He strapped you between us an I swear I was so afraid the whole contraption was gonna fall over—”

“It didn’t though,” She cut in, her eyes meeting his, “If I recall the stories correctly, you stopped me from being a mudcrab’s lunch.”

“Yeah, but I don’t trust myself with kids, you know that.” Teldryn sighed, shaking his head, “I mean you know what shit’s like with Adren. I fucking suck at the important stuff.”

“Hey, that’s not something you could have fixed,” She frowned, her fingers lightly moving across his skin, stitching the gash together under her fingertips, “Even seers cannot see everything, and you cannot help not knowing about him until you were out of exile.”

“You know he helped me out with this whole Tong business,” Teldryn mumbled as he took another sip of his drink. The revelation was still so strange to him, the two hadn’t quite been on speaking terms since the boy’s mother passed just after Red Year. The fact that Adren had taken it upon himself to get his name cleared…maybe there was still a chance?

“I thought you said the outlander did?” Ki raised her eyebrow at him, her fingers slowly moving down his arm, his wound slowly scaring over as she healed it.

“She spoke to him when she was in Skyrim,” Teldryn sighed to himself, “Apparently, he’s why I was released into the Free-Winter’s custody. Managed to convince them I wasn’t a murderer with like…evidence an shit.”

“I do not think your son hates you as much as you pretend,” Ki sighed, “I do, however, think that he is as stubborn as you, dae’ata.”

“Yeah, but like don’t tell him that,” Teldryn grinned, “I… I’m proud of him though, even if he doesn’t actually want anything to do with me.”

“I think he might come around eventually,” Ki sighed as she dismissed her spell, “Obviously he does not wish to see you harmed.”