well you left my heart empty as a vacant lot
Pointless update is more or less pointless, but it's 3:30 am and sheikah isn't up yet and silensy and ceilidh and meredevachon have abandoned me for bed. I'm still writing because I don't dare sleep. Not after last night's dreams. The combination of cramps, angsty Sanctuary fic, and a pregnant muse make for very fertile nightmares. "She can't be dead. The baby needs her Aunt Helen," is not how I want to wake up, pretty much ever again. Okay? Okay.
Re angsty fic, the 'short porn with crying stubborn!Magnus' is now 11,641 words and maybe 3/5 done. If you're laughing, eff off yo. *pout* The other forward-backward timeline fic is stalled while I finish this one. So is the getting caught fic which seems to have completely stalled in favor of angsty-ass fic. I'll have to re-evaluate when this one's done. Apparently I have a "Taming of the Shrew" Kate 5 kisses fic for the Kiss-a-Thon which also seems to be stalling. So I'll do a round-up sometime tomorrow probably.
Memo: listening to endless loops of Sarah McLachlan =/= cheering self up. JSYK. (Shocking: Tori Amos and Anna Nalick not much better.)
One cool thing: That Amazing Moment when you're about to unload All of the Meta Ever to explain why Will is retching his guts up and you realize you don't have to, because you're talking to Will-girl X and she just knows.
Have some fic words in the secondary storyline: the epic bromance of Will and Declan. I figure it's going to be weeks before I'm done, so why not?
Title: weep now for the memories
Fandom: duh, Sanctuary
Word count: 11,641 and counting
Pairing: Will/Magnus, implied Declan/Kate
He’s still breathing, only barely, when Declan arrives at the Tokyo Sanctuary, summoned by Will’s call for outside backup. This time, at least, it’s a panicked Abnormal who knocked the wind from Will’s lungs (later Will will concede that’s what happened last time, too) - a 2 a.m. feeding gone wrong, then very very very wrong.
The infirmary’s comfortable and Will’s fine, if bruised to hell and sporting several new hairline fractures of the ribs. They’re all still trying to piece together how the ganeshim got out and what spooked it so hard that the usually pacifistic bipedal pygmy elephant chance manipulator ran Will down without its chance manipulation ever kicking in. All of them except Will, who’d concluded over twenty-four hours ago before he got run down that they had to be looking at an inside job. It didn’t stop him from participating in the lively discussion and watching gestures, eyes, faces, mouths, patterns of interaction and looking at everything from fingernails to shadows.
As a precaution, Will declines a separate room for Declan, asking instead for a short screen to divide his and another futon. Fujisaki Shiori arranges it, and arranges for them to dine alone. Will thanks her for her helpfulness, but Declan’s Japanese is much better, and Shiori can’t take her eyes off him.
Will clicks his back teeth together and fights down a small explosion of bile as he slides into bed later that night. The part of him that still trembles with strain of carrying his grief so long, the same part of him that will never stop aching for Magnus and home, wants to ask Declan to bed with him. Not for sex; even if he were physically hale enough for it, except when he’s drunk off his ass, Will’s too straight for it to appeal, even with Declan (or Henry). But more than once Declan’s wrapped his arms around Will and held him together when he felt everything cracking apart.
Tonight, it’s not so bad, Will knows, or it wouldn’t be if his ribs didn’t hurt, if the physical pain didn’t mirror the emotional pain and leave him staring at the ceiling through the dark. The door slides open to his room and Will fumbles for the gun that should be beneath his pillow but somehow skitters away from his hand. The ganeshim? He’s about to turn on his lamp when he hears something to stop him - a girlish giggle and a masculine groan.
Re angsty fic, the 'short porn with crying stubborn!Magnus' is now 11,641 words and maybe 3/5 done. If you're laughing, eff off yo. *pout* The other forward-backward timeline fic is stalled while I finish this one. So is the getting caught fic which seems to have completely stalled in favor of angsty-ass fic. I'll have to re-evaluate when this one's done. Apparently I have a "Taming of the Shrew" Kate 5 kisses fic for the Kiss-a-Thon which also seems to be stalling. So I'll do a round-up sometime tomorrow probably.
Memo: listening to endless loops of Sarah McLachlan =/= cheering self up. JSYK. (Shocking: Tori Amos and Anna Nalick not much better.)
One cool thing: That Amazing Moment when you're about to unload All of the Meta Ever to explain why Will is retching his guts up and you realize you don't have to, because you're talking to Will-girl X and she just knows.
Have some fic words in the secondary storyline: the epic bromance of Will and Declan. I figure it's going to be weeks before I'm done, so why not?
Title: weep now for the memories
Fandom: duh, Sanctuary
Word count: 11,641 and counting
Pairing: Will/Magnus, implied Declan/Kate
He’s still breathing, only barely, when Declan arrives at the Tokyo Sanctuary, summoned by Will’s call for outside backup. This time, at least, it’s a panicked Abnormal who knocked the wind from Will’s lungs (later Will will concede that’s what happened last time, too) - a 2 a.m. feeding gone wrong, then very very very wrong.
The infirmary’s comfortable and Will’s fine, if bruised to hell and sporting several new hairline fractures of the ribs. They’re all still trying to piece together how the ganeshim got out and what spooked it so hard that the usually pacifistic bipedal pygmy elephant chance manipulator ran Will down without its chance manipulation ever kicking in. All of them except Will, who’d concluded over twenty-four hours ago before he got run down that they had to be looking at an inside job. It didn’t stop him from participating in the lively discussion and watching gestures, eyes, faces, mouths, patterns of interaction and looking at everything from fingernails to shadows.
As a precaution, Will declines a separate room for Declan, asking instead for a short screen to divide his and another futon. Fujisaki Shiori arranges it, and arranges for them to dine alone. Will thanks her for her helpfulness, but Declan’s Japanese is much better, and Shiori can’t take her eyes off him.
Will clicks his back teeth together and fights down a small explosion of bile as he slides into bed later that night. The part of him that still trembles with strain of carrying his grief so long, the same part of him that will never stop aching for Magnus and home, wants to ask Declan to bed with him. Not for sex; even if he were physically hale enough for it, except when he’s drunk off his ass, Will’s too straight for it to appeal, even with Declan (or Henry). But more than once Declan’s wrapped his arms around Will and held him together when he felt everything cracking apart.
Tonight, it’s not so bad, Will knows, or it wouldn’t be if his ribs didn’t hurt, if the physical pain didn’t mirror the emotional pain and leave him staring at the ceiling through the dark. The door slides open to his room and Will fumbles for the gun that should be beneath his pillow but somehow skitters away from his hand. The ganeshim? He’s about to turn on his lamp when he hears something to stop him - a girlish giggle and a masculine groan.