💖👀🖊🌙for the fic game ask!!!!! MWAH /p
I AM UNDER FUCKING ATTACK HELP YOU WERE NOT KIDDING ABOUT LOCKING IN SODJWKDJEKJDKDJDD hi mossy ily mossy MWAH
💖 What do you like most about your own writing?
choosing all the right words on editing :] i looooove executing a tricky phrase layered with double meanings, wordplay, deliberate redundancy, and oronyms using just a single word tweak. It's stupidly rewarding and makes me feel insanely clever, like im fitting together a puzzle piece and just found the perfect one that solves the whole section :]
👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?
I have several actually from multiple fandoms, altho "never let" feels like a very strong way of putting it.... uhhh lesseee of the notable ones theres the like 40k dadzawa casefic from my bnha days that i never ended up finishing..... uhhhh a fic for voltron that was meant to start out as a generic high school au that would slowly reveal itself to be a dream/hallucination induced by parasite draining keith of his quintessence......... not sure if this one counts but the final chapters of my dsmp fic when the night cries are TECHNICALLY fully finished i just cant bring myself to post them bc theyre unedited so they'll probably never see the light of day 😭😭😭..... oh and im doubtful this will ever be posted but i do have a scarian life series au lovingly called "a/b/ortion" bc im deranged and wanted to explore the idea of accidentally getting pregnant in the middle of a death game<3 who knows maybe i'll still write that bc it IS awfully compelling to me personally
🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.
YEAH ALRIGHT FINE YOU CAN GET THE ROTTMNT WIP IM CURRENTLY WORKING ON RN its currently titled "valid crashout, bro" so make of that what u will
Mikey speaks first, rapid and scrabbling over himself. "Leo's stuck in his shell and he won't come out!"
"He won't talk," Donnie corrects, terse. He hesitates, then adds, "We don't know if he's actually stuck or not. Which we could find out—" a pointed beat of silence— "if somebody would just let me check."
"Leo's not comin' out of his shell?" Raph asks, the last syllable rising in a clean arch. "Why, what's wrong with him?"
"We don't know," Mikey tells him on a thin warble. "He won't tell us!"
For a blessed moment, all three of them lapse back into silence.
Then a rustle, deceptively light as it comes to rest beside his shell. "Leo?" Raph asks, quiet. "What's wrong, little brother? You good in there?"
It's warm. Rolling, the same tone he once used to ask which scraped knee needed the colourful band-aids when they were little. Like Leo isn't the worst burden he's ever had placed upon his shoulders. Like Leo is worth listening to for once.
Like he hadn't snarled with promise right in Leo’s face just two days ago.
Something buried deep inside his plastron cracks, then caves.
Years ago, when Leo first learned the exact limits of what a caterwaul could do, he'd forced his lungs still and clamped down around his finger, breathing harsh and heavy from the corners of his lips. Sound hadn't gained him anything except wailing brothers and a stressed out Raph— so he'd bottled it, hissing between clenched teeth to keep it rattling in that cage inside him. Here, now, the angle is too constricted to reach his own hands; his shell too compact, too little space to breathe in spastic whistles. But his neck, longer than a human's and surrounded by loose skin, has just enough leverage to twist to the side and close his jaws, hard, around the skin of his shoulder.
Iron wells behind his beak, followed by a shock of white fire, condensing down into the very center of a neutron star. Leo sucks in a rattling, hysterical breath as blood drips down from his teeth.
"Leo?" Raph's giant hand comes down against his carapace, and Leo hisses, involuntary, honed by long-buried instinct. Don't touch.
Somewhere above him, all the breath rushes from Donnie's lungs too, in a matching, sibilant snarl. "Alright, that's it. Leo," he snaps, "I'm pulling out the lights, so you better shut your eyes if you don't feel like getting blinded."
"Hey— Donnie!" Raph yelps, indignant, as Donnie's footsteps push him away, brushing his hand off Leo's carapace. "We're not gonna—"
"Don't rush him—" Mikey snaps over him.
Click.
Twin beams pierce the humble darkness of his shell, flinching past his eyes and burrowing right into the well of both pupils. Brighter than the sun, Leo blinks hazily away, hiccupping over afterimages that blot his entire gaze from focusing. Even shutting them doesn't help; the images persist, cut to a tangled web of veins behind each eyelid. Leo's throat constricts without his input, clicking hard and fast past the corners of his mouth.
Liquid heat pools behind his eyes, wells, spills over at last. Leo's lungs hitch.
"Oh," Donnie says dumbly, blank as fresh, white snow.
Somebody else asked the moon question so i will go ahead and leave that question for them!! :D THANKEE FOR THE ASK, MOSSY, this was so fun to answer!!!!
