your colours are my heart

[Fanfic] Paint Me In Your Likeness

Wed, 12 Feb 2020 17:59:42 GMT

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition
Rating/Warnings: General Audience/No Warnings
Word Count: 478
Summary:Adaar loves two things: his boyfriend, Dorian Pavus, and making his boyfriend look beautiful.

On Ao3 here!

“You’re fidgeting worse than an imekari,” Adaar laughed, hands streaked with red and yellow paint. He sat back with a groan, twisting his head from side to side to try and relieve the stiff muscles that came with spending so long kneeling on the floor.

“I can’t help it,” Dorian replied, collapsing back onto the bed. Everytime they left the Keep, he missed this bed with it’s many blankets and soft mattress. Whenever Adaar left the Keep, Dorian had nothing to do but read and bother the close minded Sisters that flocked together like pigeons, and watch for his return. He missed having the Qunari next to him in the night, and sometimes during the afternoons. A cold tent and hard ground was a small price to pay for his company.
( but to love takes strength )

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[Fanfic] Away With The Roses

Wed, 12 Feb 2020 16:52:16 GMT

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition
Rating/Warnings: General Audience/No Warnings
Word Count: 490
Summary: Dorian is not pleased. Adaar has brought him out into the forest before sunrise and for what?
On Ao3 here!

Dorian pulled his cloak tighter around himself as another gust of wind threatened to rip it from his numb fingers. Freshly damp wool pressed against warm skin and he shuddered, chewing on the remnants of a mint leaf as he waited.

Rain tumbled down from the leaves overhead before finally landing onto Dorian’s shield with an almost musical note. A soft morning mist coiled around the trunks of the trees as golden light slipped through the heavy grey clouds overhead. Dorian sighed, tipping his head back against the tree trunk, watching through half lidded eyes as a bird detached itself from a higher branch. It’s feathers were a vibrant splash of red against the greys and greens, easily swooping through the tangled web of branches until it finally disappeared into the mist.

( the universe took its time on you )

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[fanfic] Important to Me

Sun, 02 Feb 2020 22:11:20 GMT

“As the Witcher rides away!”

The last note of Jaskier’s newest song died away amongst thunderous applause, drinks slamming against tables as the men — not a single one of them battle hardened and wasn’t that a curious thing — celebrated Geralt’s previous fight. It left a strange taste in the Witcher’s mouth as he watched, tucked behind a pillar to avoid any unwanted contact. He was unwilling to leave Jaskier alone in a crowd of this size, given his habit of getting into trouble.

Jaskier’s gaze sought him out regardless of the shadows around him, as true as an arrow to the chest, and he grinned, face flushed with exertion and pride. Geralt couldn’t help but smile back, ignoring the hissing black voice in his mind that said it couldn’t last, this happiness, this stability. He remained where he was, every muscle tense as he watched hands slam onto Jaskier’s shoulders in congratulations, causing the man to sway on his feet, watching and waiting.

( Run for all you know that’s coming )

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Things to Do This Week

Wed, 29 Jan 2020 09:50:45 GMT

Finish IWSC HP fic (before Sunday if poss)
Finish FW fic when prompt posted (posted Wed-Thurs, due Mon)
Finish reading Wings of Fire
Drop parcel off at post office
Dump all of my pending prompts into a google doc at least,
Sort pending fics if up to it

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[fanfic] Notice the Cracks (in my flawed heart)

Mon, 27 Jan 2020 22:32:18 GMT

Fandom: The Witcher
Word Count: 962
Summary: The Fool means infinite potential, new beginnings, new love. For Geralt, it means Jaskier.
On Ao3 Here!

“Draw a card Butcher?”
Geralt sighed, the noise rumbling through his chest, trying to dissuade whatever soothsayer or hedge witch was peddling their wares. He was bone-tired, but the remnants of the elixir still pulsed through his system. Everything was too loud, the sickening stench of old ale and unwashed bodies turning his stomach more than the blood and viscera that clung to his skin ever did. He wanted to fight, he wanted to fuck, anything to get rid of the relentless itch coiling through his skin.

He couldn’t do either. The monster, a myling - so small, poor thing, just looking for it’s mother as all children did - lay in its grave, at peace at last. Geralt could see it behind his eyes, curled up as if sleeping as the dirt rained down on it’s skeletal form.

( but i just can't take the chance )

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[Fic] A Moment of Sunlight (The Witcher, Geraskier)

Tue, 07 Jan 2020 11:57:22 GMT

'Geraskier prompt: A close call for Jaskier in which Geralt thought he'd lose him awakens feelings he didn't know he had for the bard.'

“Jaskier!” Geralt roared, golden eyes already seeing the outcome and hating it.

Jaskier was caught halfway between turning to see the creature, a kikimora, fangs bared and grotesque limbs raised to strike, behind him when Geralt’s shout reached him. Already he was falling, pushing himself sideways, a reflexive and desperate attempt to get away, eyes as wide as a rabbits staring down the maw of a wolf. But it wouldn’t be enough.

Geralt’s mutations were both a blessing and a curse, but in that moment he hated them, hated them more than he could possibly say as the barb punctured Jaskier’s side and the coppery tang of blood filled the air. Jaskier screamed once, high and thin, body twisting even as he was thrown with the force of that stab, crumpling to the forest floor. The kikimora chittered, taking a single step towards the fallen Jaskier, spindly limbs clicking.

( hold your ground )

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[fanfic] Killing Me Softly

Wed, 24 Jul 2019 16:10:25 GMT

Title: Killing Me Softly
Fandom: Good Omens
Notes: AU where miracles hurt Crowley
Read on Ao3

Crowley lasted until Aziraphale had disappeared around the corner before collapsing to the ground, clutching his scorched hand.
( with your belladonna kiss )

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Fri, 28 Jun 2019 21:36:46 GMT

I am really excited to go to the sewing festival this weekend! I'm gonna buy so much wool and fabric <3

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Wed, 26 Jun 2019 17:28:37 GMT

Today is a day for apparently having lots of energy for fic writing... but only the 100words prompt list fills. Not gonna argue : p

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Balance [Good Omens]

Tue, 25 Jun 2019 20:47:30 GMT

It was a simple miracle really, barely a smidgen of Grace required. But it burned Crowley as it healed the blind man. Crowley began backing away, when a hand around his wrist stopped him, the man staring at him with such pure adoration it hurt.

"Just go," Crowley shooed. Aziraphale was likely to appear at the worst time.

"Angel?" he asked, and that hurt must of all, twisting the knife deeper into Crowley's borrowed heart.

"No."

And he was gone, leaving behind the imprints of his sandals on the dust and possessing a fresh new burn etched across his chest.

More fics on my Ao3

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This Little Heist of Mine (TM7)

Mon, 24 Jun 2019 19:04:30 GMT

"I will be honest," Vasquez called, knuckles turning white as he braced himself in the back of the van, "I did not think that would work!"

Billy glanced in the rear view mirror, before frowning and throwing the heavy set glasses over his shoulder, ignoring the yelp from Vasquez, as the van skidded around another corner on two wheels.

"My dead grandmother could drive better," Red said, feet propped up on the dashboard, inspecting the glittering rings on his fingers, necklace already fastened around his neck.

"She is welcome to try," Billy said, rolling his eyes at the man who ignored it, "Why are you still wearing that outfit?"

"I'm going to burn it," Red said, plucking at the patterned waistcoat in disgust, "It's awful that this plan worked."

read on ao3

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Sun, 10 Mar 2019 06:14:40 GMT

Me normally: how can I make this as angsty as humanly possible
me at 4am: *sobs* they just love each other so much

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{Fic} The Need for Speed (and coffee); TAZ AU, Taakitz

Thu, 07 Mar 2019 20:20:33 GMT

Silence fell around Kravitz, the radio turned down to a low hum, coffee long since gone cold in the paper disposable cup. He knew the rest of the department hated these shifts, the long stretches of time watching the same barren stretch of road, broken only by-passing wildlife or speeding drunks which promised a mess of time and paperwork that nobody wanted to deal with when the moon was high in the sky. And so, they fell to Kravitz, new in the department and already jaded beyond his years with tired eyes and a secretive past. He knew they whispered behind his back, curiosity driving them onwards, but they were good people and he didn't mind taking this shift in the dead of night with only the same four ads playing over and over again on the radio and the owls for company.

He glanced at the clock, rubbing one gloved hand along his jaw to feel the scratch of uneven stubble. A sigh escaped him at the tiny red digits dancing in front of his eyes. The hour of 3am should not exist, it was an abomination from the angry gods to punish those on night shifts. It had been quiet which was both a blessing and a curse in the life of a policeman. But the silence was beginning to set his teeth on edge, wariness coiling under his skin, his knees bouncing almost uncontrollably for want of some movement. And almost as if it had read his idle thoughts, the universe delivered.

The speedometer screamed its warning, green numbers flashing incessantly, as the hot pink BMW flew past him, several thoughts crowding into Kravitz's head. First and foremost, making itself heard above the rest, was a voice that sounded suspiciously like his grandmother demanding to know why he decided to tempt fate to that level. And it was so close to his quitting time. Another quick glance at the clock as the wheels churned in his head revealed that he had ten minutes left. He knew that car. He knew the most likely culprits to be driving it at this time of night as well having had many minor encounters with Bureau members since starting this job.

He could narrow down the list quickly by those who would be caught speeding, which didn’t narrow it down as much as it should have done. Some days it seemed like the entire group was winging it on a wish and prayer and no thought for their own safety. But the likely culprits were either going to be fine or this was going to take far longer than it should do. He could let them go, felt the urge rise like a demon sitting on his shoulder, whispering poison words into his ear- No.

Leather creaked as he flexed his hands on the steering wheel, moving to flick the lights on and emerge from his not at all concealed hiding place. Kravitz knew better than most, how easy the slow decline into complacency could be, barely a slide at all until you were at the bottom and had to claw your way out of the pit of your own making. Never again, not here, not now. While this job was going to be the death of him, it was going to come mostly on his own terms with a clear conscience and more coffee in his veins than blood. The pink BMW's brake lights were a beacon as he neared them, the car slowing to a smooth stop at what counted as the side of the road in this narrow stretch of dirt, even indicating beforehand. The engine cut out as Kravitz nudged his car behind it, the lights still flashing, faint clicking setting his teeth on edge as he slipped his police cap back onto his head, pushing a few stray braids back behind his ear.

His heart seemed to pound in his throat as he neared the car window, the lights from his own headlights creating huge swathes of shadow, concealing the occupants. The gravel crunched under his boots, stray rocks clicking against the wheels of the car as Kravitz brought up his flashlight, shining the small beam into the car.
"Taako. Lup," he greeted with a sigh, "Do you know how fast you were going there?"
"Do I get a prize if I guess right handsome?" Taako responded with a wink. Kravitz didn't even know they produced neon green eyeshadow and yet he couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. Kravitz flicked the light between the twins once again, frowning slightly. They'd caught him out like this once before, still similar enough to pass as each other under the desperate circumstances of not getting too many points on their licences.

"License please," Kravitz asked the driver who was most likely Taako judging from the chewed manicure yet immaculate cat eye eyeliner.
"Don't you trust me yet hot stuff?" Probably-Taako asked, accepting the tiny black clutch from Probably-Lup and rummaging through it, chewing on the thin silver hoop in his bottom lip as he did so.
"No," Kravitz answered, inspecting the tiny piece of rectangular plastic before letting out a sigh and flashing the torch light between the twins, the duo striking a different pose each the light landed on them in perfect synchrony. It was almost like they practiced this and Kravitz honestly wouldn't put it past them.
"I'm pleased to see you've learnt which license belongs to you Taako," Kravitz said with a grin, pleased that his initial thoughts of which twin was which was confirmed thanks to a few subtle differences.
"I try my best sweet cheeks," Taako replied, half leaning out of the window to draw Kravitz's gaze back to him in order to give him a large exaggerated wink.
"Do you think you could try your best not to speed?" Kravitz fired back with a raised eyebrow as he began to type the details into the computer from memory.
"Sorry officer," Lup chimed in, forcing Taako's head down as she half climbed onto his back to offer her own winning smile in Kravitz's direction, "We will try our best for you to not catch us speeding."
"That's not the same thing and you know it Lup," Kravitz said warningly, unable to bite back the smile lingering at the corner of his mouth completely. She chuckled, lounging back into her seat and Taako's head popped back up to rest his head in the palms of his hands and bat his ridiculously long eye lashes in Kravitz's direction.

"You are getting a ticket-" They both groaned in unison, heads thumping back against in the headrests, "-you knew this was coming, you cannot flirt your way out of a ticket with me."
"So you have picked up on the flirting!" Lup announced, looking delighted as Taako frantically batted at her blindly.
Kravitz chose to diplomatically ignore that last statement, instead carefully scrawling out the ticket and passing it and the license back to Taako, ignoring the deliberate brush of fingers against his leather gloves, the grin widening on Taako's face giving away the fact the Kravitz was not blushing as subtly as he had been hoping for.
"I knew you were sweet on me good lookin'," Taako crowed, eyes almost seeming to light up as he scanned the conditions laid on the ticket.
"I am doing my job," Kravitz said warningly, "You could probably do my job with the amount of loopholes you've found and exploited."
"I don't know what you are talking about sweetheart," Taako said blithely, carefully inspecting his fingernails as Lup tucked the ticket into the glove box.
"Can we go now officer? At the correct speed of course," Lup asked, leaning over and introducing her elbow to Taako's stomach.

Kravitz nodded, tucking the book and the machine back onto his belt and began to walk back towards the car.
"You should come see us this weekend at the race honey bun!" Taako yelled out the window. Kravitz gave a loose two fingered salute without pausing in his steady strides and almost collapsed onto the driver’s seat.

The BMW roared into life, headlights illuminating the road ahead as Kravitz's flicked off the flashing lights, tiredness dragging on his bones, a faint ringing in his ears. Taako let out one short beep of the horn as they cruised past him, both waving enthusiastically as they did so. Kravitz waved back although it was unlikely, they would be able to see him accurately. It was strange. He knew Taako flirted with everyone, it seemed to be the man's default setting and yet... It always seemed to be different with Kravitz, more straightforward even from their very first meeting outside an attempted robbery scene, the robber in question lying semi-conscious and groaning on the floor. But he was working, it wouldn't be right, too many risks of exploiting the power dynamic for Kravitz to indulge in the flirting like he wanted to. One idle glance at the clock spurred him into action, his bed beginning to call its siren song in his ears. His knuckles cracked as he took hold of the wheel, cold seeming to fuse onto his bones, trapping him in place for a few long seconds that felt like years. Fighting through it, Kravitz slowly swung the car around to head back to the distant lights of town. Driving allowed his mind to wander, a phone call from earlier bumping to the forefront of his mind, Taako's parting statement also rolling around creating an almost irresistible temptation. And Kravitz was only human after all. Nudging the car to the side, Kravitz scooped up his personal phone, calling one of the two numbers saved onto it.

"Hey, yeah it's me. Sorry for the late hour I'm just on my way back to the station. Listen, is that open spot still available?"
Streetlights passed in a steady flashing pattern of lurid orange and darkness as Kravitz slowly drove, phone tucked into his front pocket, the voice on the other end slightly tinny.
"Yeah, I've still got my gear and everything. Great, see you at ten."
And that was that. He now had plans for this weekend. Kravitz allowed himself a small smile as the excitement bubbled in his chest. This was going to be fun.

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

"He likes me I can tell," Taako told Lup confidently as they drove home, keeping half an eye on the speedometer the entire way there.
"We can't keep getting caught by your boyfriend just so you can flirt with him," Lup grumbled, rummaging through the CD's before selecting one at random. She whooped as the opening bass notes of 'We Will Rock You' began to pound out of the car's heavy speakers.
"At least I flirt with mine instead of staring at him from across the room," Taako called, his voice hidden behind the guitar but Lup still took a half-hearted swipe at him, accurately guessing his words. Taako laughed, offering his fist to Lup, the pair knocking them together without looking, the car swerving ever so slightly as they began to enthusiastically sing along, their minds turning towards the upcoming race and the deal they had struck.

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{Fic} Listen to Me; TWD; Daryl x Connie

Wed, 06 Mar 2019 17:21:22 GMT

People didn't touch him much anymore. It wasn't something he was used to.

Back before the dead got up and started walking around killing people, being touched meant violence was incoming. It was almost better when it was a belt or a shoe, or a glass thrown at his head. Daryl could ignore the human side of it, could pretend it wasn't his own Da, drunk out of his mind and slurring curses at him even if the belt left marks that fists wouldn't. Merle wasn't a big hugger, casual physical contact was limited in a way that was meant to protect Daryl but at the time, left him unsure, craving something he had no experience with. Rick would hug him, wrap an arm round his shoulders, act as Daryl's lighthouse in the storm even when he flinched away, Carol right alongside him with a gentle word and a soft hand on Daryl's so much like his own barely remembered mother that it hurt. Jesus had been so full of life it had bubbled over the edges, so much so it had driven him out into the woods were Daryl was hiding, leaning shoulder to shoulder with him, wrapping an arm around his waist in the small tent they had to share in a move that had terrified Daryl when it first happened, but he had gotten used to it, had learned to reciprocate casual friendly touches. But it was, it had been nice. But Rick was gone now, Jesus was dead, and Carol had her own happy life.

So, no-one touched Daryl anymore.

They didn't dare. He was Daryl Dixon, one of Rick Grimes' original group. They whispered behind his back, snippets passed down and distorted with each new utterance, stories of the Governor, of Terminus, and of Negan. He wasn't like them, couldn't relax even behind the high walls of Hilltop, always looking for the danger he knew was just behind him, knives ever present on his belt.

Daryl stared at the hand on his wrist, almost unable to comprehend it. Her hand was warm, fingers pressed into the pulse points on his wrist despite the leather cords wrapped around it and he fancied she could feel the hammering of his heart. Swallowing he raised his gaze to Connie's, meeting her eyes briefly before his gaze skittered to the side, unable to maintain eye contact. She sighed quietly, barely more than an exhalation of breath through her nose and slowly moved her other hand, Daryl tracking the movement, the urge to bolt rising in his chest. She circled his mouth and pointed to her eyes, brows raising.

Oh.

Daryl felt the twist of embarrassment in his stomach, heat rising in his cheeks. He'd forgotten.
"Sorry," he said quietly, eyes flickering to her face and back again. It felt strange in his mouth, hyperaware of the way his accent distorted his voice when compared to others like Carol or Aaron. Daryl knew his background was lower than most, surrounded by middle class families from the suburbs, his accent stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was a survivor, a hunter, and he was proud of it.

Connie stretched out once more, gently brushing her fingers against his jaw, her fingers rubbing across the rough of a few days of stubble, Daryl's eyes flickering to hers. She grinned, the movement easy and carefree, giving him a thumbs up with both hands, notebook precariously pressed against her palm. No harm done, she conveyed.

"Come on," Daryl said, managing to keep his face turned towards hers even as he glanced down towards his hands, twisting the crossbow strap round and round. Another thumbs up and grin, heart thumping in his chest. Dog returned to his side, tongue lolling out, whacking against his legs to encourage Daryl to pet him. The dead were up and walking, and dogs were still the same. A growl snapped his attention away, a momentary lapse of concentration that could have easily turned deadly, had turned deadly before. Two walkers, shambling up the dried-up stream bed, hands already stretching out to grasp at unprotected flesh. Daryl glanced over at Connie, her gaze already locked on the shambling intruders, slingshot coiled and ready to fire. A small smile stole to Daryl's lips and he raised his own crossbow, one deep breath to steady, release it and fire. His arrow erupted from one's head, her ball bearing lodging in the other in perfect sync. Daryl whistled to Dog, the animal bounding forward to retrieve his arrow, always a risk but practice makes perfect apparently. A broken arrow was the price he paid to see Connie laugh, silent but no less lovely, the corners of her eyes screwing up, shoulders shaking and head ducking down.
"Bad dog," he mumbled at Dog whose tail never let up wagging and that set Connie off once more into another set of silent giggles.

Daryl began walking, Dog at his heels and Connie at his side, her shoulders occasionally quaking as leftover giggles ran through her. A light bump on his arm and the notebook was offered to him, Daryl's lips moving silently as he read her clear blocky handwriting.

He's a good boy.

"Yup," Daryl replied, turning to face her, gaze locking onto hers before he twisted back to the ground beneath his feet.

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ ⟨ ⏣ ⟩ ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

It was almost like a phantom pain, he could almost feel the rough texture of Henry's sleeve in his hand, pulling the boy along behind him, the press of dead treated human skin on his face making bile rise in his throat and making him want to scrub his own face down to the bone and that still wouldn't be enough. Guts and viscera where one thing, familiarity born from a lifetime of killing his own food. But this was something new and twisted. But throughout it all, he could almost feel the imprint of Connie's hand lightly resting on his arm, her fingers twisted and scrabbling along the stained denim of his jacket to keep close amongst the mess of the dead and those wearing their faces.

Henry was safe, the girl- Lydia, he fought to remember, dark wounded eyes staring up at him from between bars of dark hair and iron prison bars even as he plotted to stab him with a rusty nail- safely tucked back in her prison cell, though for whose safety Daryl wasn't quite sure still. The boy had a heart of gold, almost like Carl had before it got him killed, and had nearly gotten Henry killed.

Faint crunching, gravel underneath boots, sent Daryl scrambling for his knife, heart thundering in his ears as he slunk further into the shadows, Dog leaping to his feet, ears pricked. Connie appeared slowly around the corner, wavering a bit as she balanced on her toes to peak into the depths of the shadows created by the house. Daryl relaxed, Dog yawning and lying back down, tail wagging lazily. He shifted forwards so she could see him and waved a lazy hand, enjoying another one of her cheerful grins in response. She walked forward and sat down next to him, mimicking his stretched-out posture. The notebook was passed to him and he squinted to read it in the low light.
Can I hide here too?
"Yeah," Daryl said, raising his face towards her as he spoke, nodding slightly just in case the light affected her lip reading.
'Yes,' she mouthed, raising a fist, palm facing Daryl and thumb pressed against the side as she rocked it forwards and backwards, almost like a head nodding. Slowly, Daryl copied her, mouthing 'yes' as he did so. Two thumbs up and a grin, before she wriggled her shoulders, slumping a bit further down the wall.

Daryl looked down at his hand, dirty and scarred, nails bitten to the quick and torn. She was close enough to him, a burning strip of heat down his left side, but strangely comforting, as she watched the slow movement of the clouds ahead, a few stars peeking through. He gently bumped her shoulder with his, her head shifting to half rest on his shoulder, eyes locked on his mouth as she quirked an eyebrow in a silent question.
"Can you teach me? Sign language?"
His stomach twisted once more, fear and shame rushing back in. He could almost hear his Da's voice yelling, twisted whispers of idiot, stupid fuck, useless bastard echoing in his ears even now after all these years. Connie grinned and the whispers faded away, Daryl could feel himself relax even as he had been bracing himself for a punch that he knew would never, could never land now.
Yes, she signed before quickly scribbling something in her notebook, passing it to him as she chewed on the edge of the pencil, awaiting a response.
After breakfast tomorrow? We could eat together?
Yes, Daryl signed back, feeling somehow clumsy in the simple gesture.
Connie reached over, gently squeezing his hand before she moved to rest the other on his shoulder, using it to lever herself back up. Dog raised his head and she quickly scratched him behind the ears before turning to face Daryl, waving goodbye with both hands. Daryl watched her leave, rubbing his thumb up and down his curled knuckles where the pressure of her touch still lingered.

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Wed, 20 Feb 2019 18:08:33 GMT

For some reason (God only knows why) I am writing a street racing TAZ Taakitz AU despite knowing exactly zero things about cars, racing or the police... because why not?

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Sat, 16 Feb 2019 14:31:03 GMT

I had such a good community day today for Pokemon Go :D I caught 14 shiny pokemon which is my highest number ever and hit my step goal all before lunch time ^^

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Mon, 21 Jan 2019 21:51:27 GMT

Just had a really stresful mad dash to reach the wordcount in somewhat legible fashion for fanfic competition and what am I going to do to relax?
More fic writing!

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Tue, 11 Dec 2018 10:18:12 GMT

Me: Oh yeah Ive got today off work, gonna do so much writing, get myself all organised for the new year
Also me: Plays zoo tycoon for three hours straight

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Sat, 08 Dec 2018 18:37:10 GMT

I have approximately 15% of an idea how this site works so this is going to be a steep learning curve I wasn't expecting ^^;

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