#fanfic wip games

[badbatchposts]

Oooh, I am dying to know more about Omega, The Pirate Queen.

Haha I’m really excited for this one. In my current long fic, Omega has been so far absent, because her brothers left her relaxing on Pabu while they ran a few jobs for Cid. She’s getting older and more independent so at first she’s fine with this, but when they stay away longer than she would like, she takes matters into her own hands to leave Pabu and meet up with them. This involves her gambling with pirates and winning her own starship. The story of how she does it won’t appear in the longfic, just her brother’s reactions, so I’m going to write a one shot spin-off of her adventure.

[zenkindoflove]

Elucien 1970s punk fic!

Tagging @olenvasynyt since she also wanted a snippet!

So this is an AU oneshot I'm writing for Elucien week that I've titled "Dancing Barefoot" after the Patti Smith song. I have like the first 1/3ish written which sets up Elain and Lucien meeting. The general premise is that Elain is in her senior year of college. She and Graysen are "on a break" so they can sow their wild oats (mostly an excuse for Graysen of course). Vassa takes Elain to a party so she can stop moping, and that's when she meets Lucien. Lucien is a punk in a band with Jurian called The Exiles (lol). Jurian is a purist about the political messaging and the scene. Lucien is becoming more disillusioned with how the scene is turning to heroin and wants to just focus on the music.

WIP folder

Two snippets under the cut

“You need to cut your hair. You look like a fucking surfer punk.”

Jurian slapped Lucien on the back of his head as he passed by causing Lucien to miss his next chord.

“I’m not shaving my head,” Lucien responded as Jurian reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. He rubbed his shorn scalp where his mohawk once had been as he threw back a gulp.

“It’s nice. I don’t even need to wash it. I just rub some soap on it and move on.”

“When you actually take a shower.”

“We over wash our bodies anyways. Rubbing all those chemicals all over us to mask what we are supposed to smell like. Capitalism tells us we stink so we buy more bullshit.”

Lucien sneered as Jurian sat down next to him on the sofa, “Capitalism might have a point.”

Jurian sniffed his pits, “I haven’t had any complaints.”

“That’s because you only hook up with crust punk wannabes spouting fake British accents.”

“Why do you always have to throw Sherry in my face!” Jurian threw his arms in the air.

*****

“I can get you a drink," the sandy blonde announced with a flirtatious grin.

“Thanks, but I'm trying this new thing where I do things for myself." And with that, Elain dragged Vassa away.

"You know, you could at least try to flirt,” Vassa scolded as they pushed through people.

"I'm not interested in sleeping with some guy who is Graysen’s twin." Elain clarified.

“Fine, no Graysen clones. What kind of guy were you thinking?" 

They entered the kitchen, finding the punks hovering around the open refrigerator. Jurian was shoving cans of beer into the inside pockets of his jacket.

“Are you stealing beer?” Vassa scoffed, folding her arms as she hitched out her hip. Lucien turned around as Jurian popped his head up to stare back. Elain’s heart raced as she saw Lucien’s face full on.

[fortheloveofexy]

WIP I posted on twitter earlier. will I finish it? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ dunno

[kamodofilez]

“I need a human’s touch, but…”

“You don��t need me”

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Truth spell, insults are lies if you don’t believe them - cursed Merlin, Arthur isn’t actually a dollophead

So it’s only a one shot with few thousand words, but basically Merlin gets cursed with a truth spell by a witch who was frustrated that Emrys hadn’t even told the once and future king that magic isn’t good or bad, it just is. He’s not compelled to say anything, his secrets are his own, but if he tries to lie the truth comes out.

They realise what the curse is when Arthur asks Merlin if he’s okay in his own way of insulting him and Merlin can only compliment him in return,

This is sort of the general vibe of it summed up in a bit of dialogue:

Arthur: Merlin, why the hell would you jump in front of a curse!

Merlin: I wasn't going to let you get hurt.

Arthur: You idiot! You’re not a knight!

Merlin, increasingly more passionately complimenting him as he tries and fails to insult him: Well you're a reckless good man and I care about you too much! I- I mean- you're a great king! You're smart and pretty!

(Arthur’s stood there looking shocked, unable to react, getting slightly flustered at being called pretty. Merlin realises there’s one insult that still works because it’s become a term of endearment for him)

Merlin: Prat! Haha! It works!

Merlin: You're a prat and I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt!

Merlin: Damnit! Why isn’t this working?!

Arthur, realising what’s happening, teasing: Why isn’t what working, Merlin?

Merlin: Calling you a kind hearted, too good, smart and talented golden kingly prat! I give up! *storms off into the woods*

Then there’s a confession, cute Merthur moments, and Arthur gets to learn about magic because Merlin needs to tell him the trr about it before the spell can be broken.

If anyone has any ideas for what I can name this, it’d be greatly appreciated. The titles are always the worst part of fics

[zepskies]

Hey, Zep! Can you tell me more about Wake Up Call? :)

Hey there! 💜

Certainly! Re: the WIP game, here's a bit about that one:

Wake Up Call

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Sam often gets up before you in the morning. He enjoys luring you into the waking world. (18+)

Finally, something for Sam, right? 😂 After writing Rest for Dean, equal parts hurt/comfort and fluff, I’ve been itching to do some “early morning” fluff for Sam…

👀 Sneak Peek

Unlike Dean, Sam isn’t one to be sentimental.

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. On the contrary, he hordes and treasures memories in his mind, rather than on his shelves.

It also means he’s not one to collect things just to have them. There has to be a practical use, like the way good books can be read again. Even his dad’s journal is a useful resource, not just a record of the man’s most significant words, and in some ways, his legacy.

Sam’s room is function, not fluff.

That is, until you invaded.

Coming in December!

[chaoticallyfluffy]

“Blissful Ignorance” what’s being ignored?

I'm a huge fan of the whole "Billy never lies" thing but what if he did? Everything would be SO much easier for him. He doesn't know anything about adult life or society in general thanks to being homeless from a young age and any of Solomon's wisdom about adulthood is wildly outdated so he doesn't even bother trying to pretend to know any of that stuff. Instead, he goes the complete opposite direction and pretends he doesn't know ANYTHING.

Someone asks him what his legal name is and he insists its Captain Marvel and acts confused when they jokingly ask if that's on his birth certificate. "What's a birth certificate?"

He acts completely oblivious to even the most common of knowledge. It helps his childish behavior seem more natural and the league start treating him a bit nicer but in a helpful 'mentor' kind of way instead of the condescending way they would if they knew he was an actual child.

The fic is Billy acting confused about increasingly normal things, the Justice League trying their hardest to help their friend learn despite their befuddlement, and Billy trying his hardest not to laugh the whole time.

[honeyedmiller]

wip wednesday

tysm for the tag my bby @joelsgreys <3

This is something I’ve been working on, slowly but surely. It’s almost done, and it was going to be a surprise drop but honestly I miss being on here and I miss writing. Life has just been so busy. Anyway, here’s a snippet of “Pretty Little Thing”

Hope I can get this up soon along with part four of ABD. Thank you all for being so patient with me as I try to get back into the swing of things.

no pressure tags: @punkshort @endlessthxxghts @ozarkthedog @ilovepedro @javierpena-inatacvest @joeloverture

[nobodysdaydreams]

WIP and Published Fics Ask Game (reblog to play and feel free to drop the emojis/questions in the ask box!)

Questions about WIPs:

🥰 a fluff WIP snippet

😂 a funny or crack WIP snippet

😭 angst or sad WIP snippet

🤩a WIP snippet about or with dialogue from ________ [name of a character]. If you don’t have one for that character, choose someone else!

❓ any WIP snippet you want!

Questions about published fics:

📖 a published snippet from _________ [published work of theirs you haven't had read yet, but are curious about]

😔published lines or a section of a fic that was super sad, angsty, or difficult to write?

😍 published lines or a section of a fic that you loved writing?

🎁name a published gift fic someone has given you that you love and can't recommend enough (be sure to tag the author. Or if you don't have an AO3 or haven't been gifted a fic, what kind of fic would you like to be gifted?)

🤔 ____________? [ask the author a question about any of their published works, such as what the writing process was like, what their favorite fic is, or what character they like writing about].

[bisexualchaosdemon]

At little "fixed it" for wip wednesday

[badbatchposts]

for the fanfic wip game: believe?

Thanks for asking!

“I…can’t believe she lied to us,” Wrecker lamented, sounding deeply hurt.

Mwahahahaaaaa

[zenkindoflove]

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thank you for the tag @starsreminisce!

Okay so I'm in an unusual place right now where I actually have multiple works in progress. Usually I'm pretty good at focusing on one fic at a time and then finishing it before moving onto the next. But I'm learning to multitask. I actually have a single file I work in to jot down ideas before I start an official file so these aren't so much file names as they are little titles I've given their sections. And some of these you'll recognize as ongoing fics I've published. I'm going to list the ones that at least have some semblance of an outline or a little writing to them and what ship its for.

Elucien 1970s punk fic (Elucien)

Pull Me in Deeper (Eris x OC)

Elucien Week Handcuffs (Elucien)

Epistolary Elucien Fic (this is Dear Lucien, Dear Elain)

Eris Week War Adventure (Eris x OC)

I feel like so many people have been tagged already. So I'll take a stab in the dark and no pressure tag: @ataraxiasflame, @olenvasynyt, @infinitefolklore, @dawneternal, @temperedink

[fortheloveofexy]

was going through an old wip this morning and somehow totally forgot about this??

[sidekick-hero]

the unparalleled and precious @flowercrowngods tagged me to post some lines of an unpublished wip with no context

The sound of someone inserting their key card into the slot is followed by the handle being pushed down. Then the door to the room opens, revealing the lucky guy who will have him for the next two hours.

He’s pretty, is the first thing that comes to Steve’s mind. Tall and slender, with a small waist and very nice arms decorated in black ink. Most stunning, however, is his face. The pale skin a tantalizing contrast to his pink lips, dark hair framing high cheekbones and deep brown eyes that look at him like a deer in the headlights.

Then, the door closes with a bang.

“Guys? There’s some dude sitting on my bed, you might wanna call security. I’ll hold down the door but you gotta hurry.” Eddie’s voice trembles slightly and Steve’s torn between worry and amusement.

Faintly he can hear the other men laughing and Eddie's indignant squeak. "What the hell are you laughing at? There`s a crazy stalker in my room! Probably armed and dangerous!"

"Oh yeah, I bet he has a big gun," Garrett/Gareth snorts, and Steve rolls his eyes at the very obvious, very bad joke. The guy probably thinks he's really funny.

Eddie seems to agree with Steve, even if unknowingly. "Har-bloody-har. Jeff, c'mon, tell me you at least take this seriously!"

This is one of those nights when Steve wishes he was smart enough, or at least ambitious enough to go to college, so he wouldn't have to make money on the side dealing with shit like this. At least most of his clients were easier to deal with, if not as easy on the eyes as this Eddie.

"Eddie, trust me, you can open the door. He's harmless."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's your birthday present!" Freak interrupts, clearly losing patience. "Gareth's right, we should have just made him put a bow on his dick and be done with it. At least then we wouldn't be standing here arguing."

Steve wonders if they know he can hear every word they say. Like everyone else in the surrounding rooms, because they're not exactly quiet. He just hopes nobody calls the cops.

"He's... What the fuck? You can't just give someone a person, that's human trafficking!"

Obviously tired of making a scene outside a hotel room, Jeff just opens the door and pulls Eddie inside, trusting the others to follow. They do, closing the door behind them, and then they all look at Steve, who is still sitting on the bed, regretting all his life choices that led him here.

He gives a little wave with his fingers. "Surprise."

Eddie blinks at him, speechless, his mouth slightly ajar. Despite the situation, he remains unfairly attractive, his wide eyes stirring something in Steve that he hesitates to explore further. Steve's knowledge of Eddie is limited to his questionable choice of friends, yet he feels an inexplicable urge to shield him from the world, to keep him safe. The urge is unexpected in itself, but even more so in the intensity with which it hits him.

"This is Steve," Gareth introduces, stumbling over his words. "And, uh, well, he... yeah. Guys?" Gareth glances around, hoping for support from the others, but they remain silent. Steve rises from his spot on the bed and approaches Eddie.

As he stands before him, Steve is enveloped in a mixture of clean body spray, shampoo, and a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. Eddie's eyes, even larger up close, hold a warm hue that is captivating. Steve flashes a smile, aiming for a blend of reassurance and flirtation.

"I'm Steve, and for the next two hours, I can be whatever you need," he declares, though technically, twenty minutes have already elapsed. Nevertheless, for Eddie, Steve is willing to make an exception.

tagging with no pressure, only appreciation: @starryeyedjanai, @thefreakandthehair, @hbyrde36, @runninriot, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, @steddieas-shegoes

[hailsatanacab]

I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year. 

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..." 

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he... 

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb. 

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

[heartdrop]

i like you more than soup 🍜