#tag wip for iris

[x-xxoxox-x]

Help she looks so creepy

[salamispots]

hello I am pleased with this food panel

read Iris Complex on Tapas! :0

[teamdilf]

WIP Thursday!

Tagged by @busy-baker - thank you!

Here's something from a one-shot I'll post in the next week or so! It's Solavellan and very angsty, because that's what's driving my creative fires at the moment:

 “If I asked how you are, would you answer honestly?” Never before now has [Iris] struggled to find words when speaking to Solas, but even after a decade apart, she finds herself unsure of how or what to say to him; torn between yelling at him and clinging to him as if her life depends on it. They haven’t touched yet, save for a brush of her hand against his shoulder as she was wrapping the blanket around him. Solas hesitates, staring down at the plate on his lap. “I’ve missed you,” he settles on, and her eyes sting with tears, and she sniffles. “I’ve missed you too. Can you stay the night?” “I shouldn’t.” He speaks so quickly that she hardly gets her question out, as if he knew what she was going to ask before she could speak the words. “You’re doing a lot of things you shouldn’t be doing, so why not allow yourself to do the one thing you shouldn’t do that you actually want to be doing?” Her words come out sharper than she’d intended and Solas flinches before taking another bite of potato. She softens. “When was the last time you slept?” “I sleep.” His defensive tone is answer enough. “After you finish eating you’re coming to bed with me.” “It would be a terrible idea to lay…” “To sleep, not fuck!” she snaps. “Solas, I’m…” she lets out a sigh, forcing herself to calm the raging inferno of her temper because she does not want their first conversation in a decade to end in an argument. She starts again. “We have a long overdue argument to have. Several of them. I’m furious with you and I’ll not fuck you until we’ve had those talks, but I recognize that you’re in no state to have those discussions tonight and, frankly, I don’t fucking want to even if you were. But I will take care of you, because you’re not taking care of yourself, and I will make clear that I love you, even if I’m currently furious with you. So stop being a fucking idiot and let me take care of you tonight.”

Tagging @outpost51, and @daisywalletchains

[some-zer0]

[WIP] I like to think that they end up being close

[azures-grace]

Fuck it, WIP Sunday

Have some of the Tally intro (as of now) for my Iri fic because I wanna

Gore is snappy because he is injured and met the bozos less than 5 hours before this scene, so trust is low.

(1032 words. This is from chapter 4 (chapter 3 isn't done, I just wanna share this cause I love writing dialogue.))

That night, they camped a mile or two outside of Falkreath’s main city. Wood was plentiful and there hadn't been much rain in the recent days, so lighting a fire was easy.

Remiel sat on the ground, carefully polishing Scrap with a cloth. Caryalind was laying on his stomach– on the singular pillow he'd snatched from one of the inns they'd stayed in after leaving Markarth– his nose buried in a book. Gore had taken to cleaning and banging his leg properly. Iriae was pouring over the texts they had found in Nchuand-Zel. She had a journal open on her knee and was scribbling into it.

“Watcha doin?” asked Gore, looking over while he wrung hot water out of a rag.

“Just… translating some Dwemeris…” she murmured.

“Why?”

“For fun,” she said with a shrug. “There's no deadlines here like there were at the Embassy. I can just read whatever I want to.”

“The… what?” the Nord’s eyes flashed.

“Oh– dammit.” Iriae snapped the books shut and put her head in her hands.

Caryalind piped up, tilting his book down and pushing himself up on one elbow. “She used to work as the Thalmor’s translator for dead languages.”

“And he's the Thalmor prince,” Remiel informed Gore while she put down Scrap.

Gore blinked very slowly and then dug the palms of his hands into his eyes. “By Talos, this can't be happening…”

The Mer flinched a little. “Can't we keep religion out of anything?” Iriae whined. She tugged on her hair nervously and glanced around at the surrounding trees.

“It's not like the Thalmor are lurking in the forest,” Remiel pointed out.

“You don't know that!” the deserters squawked.

There came upon them the sound of hooves and horses. A person staggered out from the darkness, leading two white horses. He was pale, but still definitely Altmer. If nothing else, the robes of a Thalmor mage gave it away. Remiel dropped Scrap onto the ground and Gore grabbed his sword, but Iriae stopped them both.

“Wait!! Wait. Just… hold on.”

She scrambled to her feet and slowly approached the man. He was clutching his side with gritted teeth. His face was mostly hidden by shadows.

“Well. This is unfortunate,” he grumbled, looking at the Nord and Breton. “I don't suppose you're the rest of my contingent, are you?” He coughed and spat on the ground.

“Nnno…” Iriae mumbled. “Are you… okay.”

“Fine, yes,” he snapped. “I don't suppose you've seen any other members of the Thalmor such as myself, have you?”

“We killed 'em,” she heard Gore growl. The Altmer’s pale face scrunched up in disdain. And then in pain.

“What happened to you?” Iriae asked. She squinted at the area he was gripping.

“Well, myself and my compatriots were sent to root out Talos worship here in the Falkreath area. This horse belonged to my companion, Agent Sanyon. We came upon one such group of heretics and Agent Sanyon was giving his speech until one of them struck him from behind and killed him!”

“You're very nonchalant about this,” Iriae observed. “Doesn't explain why you're hurt.”

“It was self defence, I'm getting there, hang on,” he sighed. “Anyway, I picked up Sanyon’s speech where he left off, and then one of the bastards mocked my dagger!”

“Your… dagger?” Remiel squinted and glanced down. “Is this a real dagger, or some kind of metaphor?”

The Altmer flashed her a killing glare and unsheathed an ebony dagger that glowed slightly in the dim firelight. “No, this dagger. It's been in my family for generations!”

“Still doesn't explain the injury,” Iriae said, trying to get the conversation back on track.”

The dagger began carving an arc in the air. “Oh, I grabbed the one who mocked Berwhale and carved his heart out to show the lot of them!” The Altmer giggled while the other four looked on with varying degrees of horror. “See, self defence. Anyway, then I had to kill the rest.” He groaned and pulled his hand away, watching blood drip from his fingers. “Unfortunately, they put up quite a fight. But I'll live. Probably…”

“I've got a healing potion,” Iriae offered.

“What? Why?!” It seemed that the Altmer before her was just as confused as her companions.

“It just seems like the right thing to do,” she admitted. “Now how about you come out of the dark and tell us your name?”

He heaved a sigh and stepped out of the darkness. “I'm… Taliesin. It's an alias, for my safety and yours.”

She gave him a smile and then froze. In the firelight, she could recognize his face properly. “Oh my gods we worked together,” she stammered.

“I beg your pardon?” Taliesin looked at her confused.

Iriae pulled her hair back and draped the hood of her cloak over her head. Recognition filled he other Mer’s green eyes.

“You're the girl who was in the basement!” he cried, snapping his fingers. “I think you handed me some papers once…”

“Yeah, Elenwen didn’t want me going out very often,” she laughed awkwardly.

“You’re telling me you two know each other??” Gore complained. “Oh, great. Splendid. A whole troupe of Thalmor.”

“Well, I never learned his name,” she said. Iriae handed Taliesin a bottle which he downed immediately.

“Oh, gods bless you. That’s much better. I’m still… covered in blood, but at least it’s not actively spilling from me, hm?” He bowed low and chuckled. “I don’t have anything to repay you for this at the moment, I’m afraid. The best I can do is offer the pleasure of my company.”

Iriae gave him a very blank look for a solid minute. “Are you… trying to come on to me?”

He gave a raucous laugh and shook his head. “No, not at all. I barely know you aside from, what, three total glances before today? Oh, I'm sure we can fix that, if you wish, but no. I’m offering to travel with you. I realise you’ve already got several companions with you, but–”

“Sure!” Iriae was grinning like a fool. “The more the merrier!”

And that was how the five of them found themselves sitting around a fire, trying to rehydrate deer jerky.

[y3aj-3002]

a widdle sketch I did just now

[serenanymph]

find the word tag

tagged by @space-writes over here, with the words gentle, subtle, ample, and substantial. gonna tag uhhh @halfbit, @faytelumos, @writingamongther0ses, @lyssa-ink and @reneesbooks with the words silence, section, shallow and shatter!

gentle

Iri drops the man back onto the ground, and Beatriz stares at the spike dissolving into the soil with a hiss, turning it black and gooey. There’s a layer of dust hovering above the ground, kicked up from all of the commotion, and she barely has the presence of mind to guide in a gentle breeze, clearing the area so they won’t launch into a coughing fit mid-battle. Any moment now, the Noxx will be coming, but all she can do is stare at the man. The man who had just used the same kind of magic Noxx possess.

subtle (surprisingly this came from the most recent paragraph, though written when I was half-asleep so it makes less sense than usual. does this count as a last line tag I have way too many of those in my drafts)

She plunks the sole chunk of lirstone they have left in the center. The light throws stretching, malformed shadows onto the surrounding walls, paints everyone’s faces in pale, washed-out grey that almost makes them look ghostly. The tunnel stretches before them, winding and dark and no different from every other tunnel they’d passed through. They’d been sticking to the larger ones, the ones that sloped upwards, in the hopes of finding another exit, but she can barely notice any change. She hopes it’s just because of how subtle the transition had been; not because they’ve been going in circles.

no ample, but I did find one instance of plenty

“He’s a kid,” Icarus says. “He’s the same age as us,” she retorts. “That’s plenty old enough to make a decision like this, especially when you’re half Beast. Hell, look at Crys – he’s had anti-Beast values drilled into him since he was a kid. Didn’t stop him from seeing you like an actual person and helping you,” Rhyme points out, though her expression is a little sour. “But the Witchhunter’s Mutt? You saw what went down just now. He hates your bloody guts.”

substantial

Around her, magic flares – Icarus – tugging at the wind, too panicked to actually do anything substantial save for generate a weak breeze, grip dulled by his scattered focus and the fact that he’s currently struggling not to start flipping head over heels.

taglist (lmk if you want to be +/-): @deer-in-headlights-stare, @allianaavelinjackson, @arctic-oceans, @space-writes, @reneesbooks

[fanfictiongreenirises]

last five sentences of your WIP Meme

thank you @dirigibleplumbing for the tag <3<3 i'm responding almost a year later but i hope your wip is doing well!!

this is from a wip that isn't technically even a wip but is the most recent thing i've written, for a future sequel fic for a wip i haven't finished writing + posting yet 🫠

“What happened?” he asked, almost in shock. He hadn’t known which cousin Wen Qing had confessed to murdering, but the car belonged to Wen Chao. He could see those once spotless Air Jordans before he’d even seen the body. They were splattered with blood, one lying at an unnatural angle that made him slightly queasy. “He went to relieve himself by a tree,” Wen Qing said calmly, “and forgot to put the car in park.”

no pressure tags: @dottie-wan-kenobi @twilightarc-gm @crows-murder @sunflowersandink @bundibird @acesphrases

[men-in-gitis]

Little wip of some fun outfits

[shrinkthisviolet]

🐤

🐤: a mystery quote (take out the context, even censor the names if you want! let em guess!)

“Just try it,” Iris insisted, “for a few weeks. If you don’t get anything out of it, then we’ll stop. Maybe try something else. But…please? He’s the most promising lead we have.”

~1x15/1x16 fic

Remember when I mentioned that Iris has a plan post-1x14? Here’s a little more hinting about that 👀

bird wip ask game!

[mundanemoongirl]

OC in 3

Thanks for tagging me @poethill!

I’ll leave an open tag since I can’t remember who I tagged the last time I did this one.

Iris Arsonite

[tqtc-art]

oooo you care about my scp self insert you care about my scp self insert so bad

[flyiing-giraffe]

Thank you @chromatic-lamina for the tag!

RULES: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

So I was actually going to pick a line from a different WIP instead of the last one I actually wrote, because it's from a very late, angsty section of Black Iris (and also because, as you know, dear readers, I love long sentences) but I decided to be mean to you all and to me, so enjoy waiting until like... sometime next year for this to happen, probably!

You will be safe with me,” he promises, running his thumb along Doffy’s cheekbone, which has a concerning amount of dried and possibly new blood on it.

Wow, that's 27 words lmao I would def have to go into the realm of random people to tag 27 blogs so I'll just do as many as I can-- feel free to ignore the tag if you're not feeling it, everyone!

@umbrace-ramble, @darklordofcutlets, @allhailthealmightyemus, @soulessrobot, @supdaemons, @ezcarol, @tunatunatunas, @yeonjunenby, @ensignsenna, @moxie-girl, @katia-anyway, @cal-cium-the-nerd, @yakarmi, @me-shells, @vshihan, @lerya-fanfic, @architect-of-the-auspicious, @sabomasochism That is not even really close lol again, just for fun, so feel free to ignore if you want!

[avrablake]

10 (OC) Songs Tag

Thanks @daydreamodyssey and @emelkae

Rules: list ten songs, then tag ten people to pass the game on to! (bonus points if it's from a wip/character playlist!)

I love the idea of doing OC songs specifically so I put each of my OC related playlists on shuffle.

Thea: Make Me Believe - The Everlove

Nix: Trouble - Adam Jensen

Gram: Protector - City Wolf

Kai: With You - My First Story

Lucan: Easy on Me - One Ok Rock version

Kaori: On the Rise - Generdyn

Ryu: The Kill - Thirty Seconds To Mars

Nix and Kaori: Temporary Bliss - The Cab (NSFW)

Iris and Nolan: Let Me Let You Go - One Ok Rock

Iris and Jonah: Again - Janet Jackson

-

Open Tag for anyone and also tagging (no pressure) @thesorcerersapprentice @bloodlessheirbyjacques @kaiusvnoir

[aureliobooks]

(listen i know i drop in out of nowhere every three months saying i’m gonna come back because i’m picking a wip up again but i MEAN IT THIS TIME i’m planning to completely rework wayfarer with a new setting and new character designs and i’m gonna try to actually!! write!!! over my month long break from school!!!! and if this is a lie and you see me say this same thing again a month from now everyone point and laugh <3)

[theroseempress]

Oops I think I just sent you the whole ask game because my phone copied it wrong. I meant to ask #37!

*scrolls busily* ah here we are

37. which ocs dress for comfort > fashion? which ocs dress fashion > comfort?

Felix definitely looks like he dresses fashion over comfort, he's usually very fancy, but he also definitely likes clothes he can move around properly in. It's useful for being a thief Legal and Proper activities. Iris also likes wearing fashionable/fancy clothes, but her second requisite after 'looks nice' is 'can I fight someone in this'.

Nerium's on the other end, he doesn't really pay much attention to what's fashionable and tends to wear quite similar clothes.

Shannon and Helen are pretty much in the middle, they both like looking nice, but also like having clothes you can get around in.