#my fics
tagged by my wonderful gf @nothingwrongwiththerain<3 tbh i should be posting this on my writing blog but i’ll put it here first since this was the blog u tagged. also, this is definitely not a sentence nor is it the last thing i worked on but look it just doesn’t make sense without context and its what im proud of rn so here u go.
“A…bonfire.”
Todoroki’s voice, Izuku reflected, was marvelous in its ability to convey a staggering range of emotion through only the slightest change in intonation. Bafflement, dismay, a hint of burgeoning regret– Todoroki had seen the future, deemed it bad, and knew he was powerless to stop it. To the untrained ear, he was simply confirming new information; Izuku, who knew better, could hear the clear thread of reluctance behind it.
reblogging to my, y’know, actual writing blog
erasermic is my lifeblood so here’s a tiny moment of cute domesticity for y'all from my upcoming dadzawa fic
“Figures,” Shouta muttered. He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Hizashi’s lips and pushed off from the counter. “I’m gonna grab my eye drops. Thanks for making breakfast.”
“You missed!” Hizashi called after him, bristling with mock indignation. “No breakfast for you until you give me a proper kiss, you ungrateful—”
Shouta covered his laugh with a cough as he shuffled off to the bathroom.
y'all: deku is your favorite punching bag
me as i post this snippet ive been sitting on for five days: i have no idea what you’re talking about
————–
“Don’tfucking fall asleep,” Bakugou growls, and Izuku winces at the feeling of fingernails digging painfully into his skin. “I swear to god if I have to—”
“Kacchan, t-that hurts.”
Bakugou flinches like he’s been struck, and the pricks of pain ease. In the dim half-light, he can see the uneasy look on Bakugou’s face. “Yeah, well tough. It’s keeping you awake, so fucking deal with it.”
Is it just him, or is there something incongruous between Bakugou’s words and actions? Izuku’s lips tug in a frown as he churns over this new revelation. “But you—”
“Talk about something,” Bakugou interrupts gruffly. “Just— I dunno, whatever. Shit, it’s like the only thing you’re sort of good at anyway.”
Which is blatantly untrue, Izuku thinks with a flash of annoyance. He’s good at being a hero— he has to be good at being a hero, or else all the effort he’s put into this will be wasted, and he’s not about to let All Might down like that. That Bakugou is sitting here, unharmed instead of crushed between two layers of rock— while Izuku lays slowly bleeding at his feet— is all the evidence he needs.
Izuku licks his lips. They’re starting to go numb, and it makes forming words difficult. His tongue fumbles when he goes to speak; slurring the words together. “Like— like what?”
“I don’t care,” Bakugou says shortly. “One of your stupid battle analyses, for all I give a crap.”
“You— you’ve n-never been interested before—” Izuku starts, but Bakugou’s dark look silences him before he can finish the thought.
“You think I’m actually interested now? I don’t give a shit about your shitty notes or whatever, I just need you to keep talking so you don’t fall asleep and die.”
Izuku gulps, and a muscle spasms in his leg; he chokes back the strangled sound that threatens to rise up, hoping Bakugou won’t notice the tears forming in his eyes.
From the hot glare Bakugou shoots him, he’s not that lucky.
“R-right.” Izuku licks his lips again, casting his gazes at the flickering shadows on the wall. Anything to avoid the almost accusing look on Bakugou’s face. “Um, w-well, there was that battle between Kamui Woods and the villain with a monster quirk, and it gave me s-some ideas for if we ever went up against that—”
Izuku runs through dozens of simulations, letting his mind slide seamlessly into the dissection of each potential battle, analyzing the different Quirks and challenges associated with countering them, throwing in references to his own classmates just for the hell of it. Bakugou doesn’t comment beyond a few grunts that are probably supposed to be encouraging, but Izuku isn’t bothered. It’s easy to keep going once he gets started, and since Bakugou isn’t cutting him off with half-snarled insults or an explosive palm to the face, Izuku can carry on uninterrupted.
He talks until his throat’s dry and his lips are chapped, and its only when he finally pauses to swallow that he notices just how tired he is. The words peter off into silence, and if Izuku wasn’t already being propped up by Bakugou, he’d have sunk to the ground a long time ago.
Maybe it’s the unique combination of blood loss and running obsessively through battle simulations, but Izuku’s mind reels back to the slime villain encounter six months before UA’s entrance exam. Izuku knows this heavy exhaustion that weighs his limbs. He’s felt it before.
It strikes him with raw bluntness: he’s dying. He actually might die today.
Izuku’s breath hitches, and he has to close his eyes against the sharp ache blooming in his chest.
“Hey—” Bakugou’s voice is sharp. “Don’t fuckin'— hey, stay awake, idiot.”
“’M fine,” Izuku mumbles past trembling lips. He’s not sure who he’s trying to convince.
“Open your damn eyes, Deku.”
Izuku opens his eyes. Water leaks from them, and he clenches his teeth past the chattering that racks his jaw. He’s so cold. Where iseverybody?
“Probably figuring out a way to get us out of here without bringing the rest of the place down,” Bakugou replies without his usual harshness, which is jarring enough to distract Izuku from the fact that he apparently said that out loud.
Izuku stares at him. What little he can see of Bakugou’s face is pinched together, forming a deep crease between his eyebrows. It’s different from the patented Bakugou Scowl™ in that it isn’t directed at him, but at the tiny vent in the rock letting in their wavering source of light and oxygen; it’s less hostile and more considering, more—
Izuku sucks in a breath. Bakugou’s worried.
Buckle into your spaceship and prepare for a bumpy liftoff! We’ve got astronauts!!! Planets!!! Aliens??? And so many mysteries to unravel in my upcoming Kiribaku sci-fi piece, Six Degrees of Freedom, featured in the digital anthology, @lionheartkrbkzine!
❤PREORDER NOW!❤
- EXCERPT -
Eijirou brought his hands to his head and groaned. Waking up from cryosleep was always nasty business, but he’d gotten used to it after being put under a few dozen times. Back home, it had been a controlled process, with a whole crew of scientists monitoring him as the cryochamber systematically thawed him and woke him up in stages.
But this time, the ship had overridden that process, thawing him much too quickly and forcing him awake to flashing lights, a blaring alarm, and the words “HYDRAULICS SYSTEM FAILURE’’ blinking red on the piloting screen. He’d had no choice but to pilot the ship to the nearest planet, through an unfamiliar atmosphere, before crashing and then stuttering to a halt on rocky terrain.
Hopefully, this was the right planet. A nice, inhabitable planet. One with air and water and optimal atmospheric conditions.
“With Whom To Share A Secret”
Finally on AO3 now, at 11,651 words.
I’ve had this fic in drafts for ages, it took a while because it’s a somewhat complex One Shot with a lot of (but hopefully not too much) subtlety. It’s a fluffy domestic Kamaboko fic with some angst and melancholy mixed in, and it felt it needed some illustrations.
Takes places two months after the Fanbook #2 extended epilogue comic. While it’s overall Kamaboko found family bonding, it’s especially focused on Tanjiro/Zenitsu and Nezuko/Inosuke interactions.
That weird feel when you see your OC’s name, exactly, down to every kanji, in a work email.
Have not met this person IRL, but heeey, looks like one of Shinobu’s Tsuguko in my fic got reincarnated.
I found Makomo making another white crown that misty day, and I asked her if those white ones were her favorite flower. No, she laughed, and replied that those were the flowers in bloom. Ah, I responded, then her favorites must be those ones on her kimono, for Urokodaki-san had painted them on the fox mask.
She looked surprised a moment, then said maybe he never knew her favorite flower. I had to ask her what her favorite was, and she told me she loved nanohana, how the they fill the springtime with seas and waves of yellow over wispy green forests. She especially loved to see them in the height of daylight, with color so cheerful that demons could never come within hours of glimpsing it.
“They don’t grow on Mt. Sagiri,” she finished, “I wish I could see them again.”
—-
One of my Fanbook #1 details is Makomo’s favorite flower. There’s nothing quite like a field of bright tall nanohana; it’s a captivating even if they are a relatively common wildflower.
Still feeling frustrated by a fic I’ve got in drafts, got some more editing ideas, wound up with these doodles in my brainstorm sketches
Phoenix Wright/Miles Edgeworth
Epistolary Fic - Post AA1 - Character Study - Dream Sequence - Pre-Relationship Unnecessary Feelings™
9,965 words
content warnings: discussion of attempted suicide/suicidal thoughts, grieving
In a hastily rented cottage on the coast of France, Miles Edgeworth drafts letters from beyond the grave, trying to articulate the muddled thoughts that led to a rashly written note and a sudden disappearing act. On the other side of the sea, Phoenix Wright lapses into his old habit of writing letters to a childhood friend who isn’t listening, trying to piece together theories with minimal evidence, as is his specialty. Neither aware of each other’s struggle to understand the events that forced them apart—both entirely out of reach.
(This is a playthrough of a hack of a hackof dancynrew’s letter writing TTRPG, Beyond Reach. Play proceeds through letters written by each player, interrupted by a collaborative dream sequence halfway through the playthrough. Each player is unable to read the others’s letters until the end of the game. Edgeworth was played by Stars (starsshine77), and Phoenix was played by Charlie (fixationstn).)
when you call my name, it’s like a little prayer // narumitsu // E // 5k words
my new nsfw fic is up on ao3! please enjoy this intensely intimate, sappy, silly, snarky porn. I love their love so much.
when you call my name, it’s like a little prayer // narumitsu // E // 5k words
my new nsfw fic is up on ao3! please enjoy this intensely intimate, sappy, silly, snarky porn. I love their love so much.
Revisiting a scene from the last episode of The Book of Boba Fett again! Please enjoy Sand/Awestruck for this week’s @dankfarrikdrabbles prompt.
************
Get. Up.
His head was spinning and his back was hurting something terrible. But he had to get to Grogu. Maybe if he was fast enough he could activate the jetpack, grab him and fly away. He’d figure out how to deal with the rancor later – the boy was his priority. The roars coming out of the beast were definitely not good and he didn’t have time to figure out why the child had escaped Peli’s arms. Or why he had decided to challenge the enraged animal on his own.
Din pushed against the packed sand with a groan, relegating his throbbing pain to the back of his mind for the time being and tried very hard not to let the vision of the toddler seconds away from being eaten alive overwhelm him and send him into a panic.
And then Grogu raised his ridiculously tiny hand.
And the rancor stopped moving.
And Din stopped breathing.
The kid was… What was he doing? Din could only look on in astonishment as Grogu managed to get the beast to fall asleep, using only the power of his mind. Slowly, oh so slowly. Every second lasting an eternity, as Din wondered worriedly if he should intervene. But there was no need in the end, and he found his breath again when the rancor’s head softly touched the sand with a last, hoarse exhale.
He’d questioned the boy’s return earlier – had he managed to learn anything from Skywalker? Was it safe for him to be at the mercy of the galaxy again? And it seemed that he now had the start of an answer: the child was more powerful than ever before, and he wouldn’t be at the mercy of anything – or anyone. Not as long as he still had breath in him, Din decided, standing up shakily with the help of the Twi’lek majordomo.
Grogu was back to being his number one priority, he acknowledged, observing him succumb to sleep, burrowed against the rancor, utterly spent. And that realization brought a smile to his face – his life had meaning again.
Fic Recap
So I came back outta nowhere and then posted a bunch of stuff back-to-back. It’s a bad habit. My bad, it’s just how I am apparently. So, here’s a recap of my recently posted fics, in case you missed any:
Just the Two of Us(Series) *Complete* - Alpha!Human!Castiel x Beta!Female!Reader
The Boys Will Play (Oneshot) - Jared x Jensen
The Road to You (Oneshot) - Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader
Unwind (Oneshot) - Producer!Sam x Wife!Reader
Gotta Get You Into My Life (Oneshot) - Stoner!Sam x Stoner!Reader
The Best Wake Up (Drabble) - Dean x Reader
Forevers:
Dean Winchester:
Sam Winchester:
RPF:
JENSEN TAGS:
“38.5, big guy,” Xue Yang says as he shakes the end of the thermometer in his right hand. On the bed next to him, Song Lan groans in response.
“Want me to call in to work for you?” He asks, reaching for Song Lan’s work phone. All he gets in response is a brief nod before Song Lan rolls over onto his side, the side away from Xue Yang, and coughs.
No biting quip from Song Lan about his shitty nursing ability, like Xue Yang has come to expect from him. It’s what their whole relationship is built on. Xue Yang jokingly babies or insults Song Lan, and in return Song Lan playfully smacks the back of his head or gives him some kind of witty one liner before they move on with their day.
Not today. Song Lan still has the fever he came down with over the weekend and doesn’t even seem capable of sitting up in bed by himself, let alone letting off some offhanded comment about Xue Yang needing to go back to nursing school if he’s going to continue to do the worst job possible. Song Lan’s breathing slows down to a deep and even rattle, dozing on his side. Xue Yang shakes his head and leaves the room, calling Song Lan’s boss to inform him he’s not feeling well and he won’t be in today.
While picking all the marshmallows out of his cereal, he recalls that Song Lan had a light sheen of sweat on his face, and Xue Yang grimaces, remembering that it’s the sort of thing Song Lan would find unbearable. The poor guy is too sick to wipe it off himself, so Xue Yang decides to be nice for once (so Song Lan will owe him! He tells himself as he wanders over to the sink) and wets a dark blue washcloth with cold water and rings it out before heading back to the bedroom, the door left slightly ajar in case Song Lan needs anything.
Song Lan’s body limply rolls toward the dip in the mattress Xue Yang makes when he sits down on Song Lan’s side, and Song Lan himself lightly jolts awake when he feels Xue Yang gently touch his forehead with the wet washcloth.
“Go back to sleep,” Xue Yang mutters. “Just… let me do this, okay?”
Song Lan blinks, then slowly closes his eyes again.
“Alright,” he croaks.
Xue Yang gently wipes off the sweat beading on his forehead, relishing the way Song Lan sleepily nuzzles into Xue Yang’s hand.
The heat.
Scorching, suffocating.
Leia couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream. The searing pain of flames ravaging her flesh, leaving charred smoldering charcoal in their wake. Pyre and lava, billowing smoke vandalizing her airways; vaporizing her scleras, eating away the soft palate of her throat.
Excruciating, the anguish so overwhelming it left her numb and whimpering at once. The terror so raw, the livid rage unhinged. She felt so many contradictory emotions. Sorrow, betrayal, jealousy, fury, scorn. Hopelessness. She would surely die here. Embers burrowing into her skin, the air thick and dry. She couldn’t blink, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t think. She was alone, she would die alone. They all abandoned her.
Despite the agony, despite her waning sanity she saw through muddied eyes, how her own skeletal arm extended forwards. Cybernetic, a fake mockery of a human appendage surviving the unforgiving brimstone. Pulling her along the gravel, ripping and peeling the skin off of her stomach, her torso. She would not give in. She’d never relent. She was too afraid of what may become of her, were she to die.
A woman, pearly tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Her hazel eyes glassy, her voice breaking as she spoke. Leia couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she felt a tremendous, overwhelming guilt. Through the suffering, her artificial hand reached for the beautiful maiden. Instead, the woman’s visage turned to dust and scattered to the wind. Behind her followed a bearded man. Auburn hair falling into his eyes, disbelief and regret etched into his features.
Full chapter and fic on Ao3:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24050629/chapters/66665332
Always Here For You
I’m finally back with a request after a long time, I know it’s been a while since I’ve written one and I’m sorry, but work has been kinda killing my spirit :( And also I’ve been hyperfixating on Criminal Minds so it’s hard to concentrate on anything else.
I hope you like it, my friend and I’m sorry it took me so long! Hopefully I’ll be back with more soon.
Summary: The Doctor has been a little overprotective after your top surgery, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Tenth Doctor x Transmasc!Reader
No pronouns used for the reader
Words:531
“Hey hey hey, what do you think you’re doing there?” the Doctor asked with his voice sounding a little higher than usual.
“I was just-”
“You’re not supposed to lift things!” he interrupted you, before you even had the chance to answer his question.
“Doctor, please, this isn’t even heavy.”
He shook his head in disbelief and took the bag you haddaredto put your hands on, carrying it for you to your room. You followed him with a little smile, despite your annoyance.
To say that the Doctor had been even moreoverprotective over you ever since your top surgery than his usual self was would be an understatement. And you wouldn’t lie. It could get a little too much at times, but also…you couldn’t stay mad at this face; that face, and those beautiful brown eyes which seemed to look at you as if you were his whole world.
And you were. His words. The words he whispered to you every night, before kissing your forehead and letting you sleep peacefully.
You were so grateful to have the Doctor by your side through everything. With him you were never afraid. You knew you’d never be alone, you’d never have to face anything all by yourself.
Before your first surgery, he’d listen to you for hours while you were in his arms talking about how you couldn’t wait and how much more comfortable with your body you’d feel after you’d have it or he would ease your worries when you spoke about the possible pain that could come with it the first weeks.
And now he did the same, being his same comforting and loving self every time you vocalized your thoughts about the bottom surgery you were planning on having.
You loved him so much, you didn’t even want to imagine how life would be without your Doctor.
“Where you travellin’?” he asked with a smirk, noticing you were lost in your thoughts. You realized you had just been standing there, silent, for definitely a few minutes after you had walked into your room.
“Oh, I just got lost in my thoughts I guess,” you said casually, trying not to let it show that he caught you thinking about him.
“Hmm…” he teased, lifting his brow at you.
“Shut up,” you said with a little laugh.
He approached you with a grin. “You know I’m always thinking about you too. No need to be embarrassed.”
“And how exactly are you so sure I was thinking about you?”
“A Time Lord thing,” he answered touching his temples with his index fingers.
“Right…”
There was a moment of silence, before he moved even closer to you and cupped your cheeks with his palms. “Y/N, I’m really always thinking about you. And I hope…well, I hope I haven’t been annoying you too much lately.” His cute pout made your heart ache. “I just wanna take care of you. You’re really important to me.”
“Oh Doctor…You’re really important to me as well. And I love having you by my side. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Me neither,” he smiled and gave the tip of your nose a little kiss.
Cute little 5+1 about Alma missing her dad! Two chapters out so far, but the other 4 should all be posted within the week.
I know I said a while ago that this was going to be a one-shot but it ended up being a lot longer than I expected lol. Hope you guys enjoy!
Neutral
ch. 2 of the obviousseries
Work drags along after —after the whole coffee fiasco.
You and Nina both were swamped to your throats with new intakes, angry visitors, and whatever else you can name. But—there really must be a higher power, shining its rare, golden fortune all over your miserable ass, because from the crowded front of the house, you couldn’t see Connor or the bullpen. Plus, the workload and the physical distance put you into a deep calm that could only be obtained through good, old-fashioned space and busy.
It keeps your wandering mind off of… the Encounter, and a wandering Connor away from you.
They closed the school I work at for two weeks in order to prevent any kind of outbreak of the corona virus. Looks like I’ll finally have time to get a significant amount of writing done. That’s a small bonus. Sending well wishes to those affected.
