[ SECRET POST #2682 ]

[case]

⌈ Secret Post #2682 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

01.


__________________________________________________



02.


__________________________________________________



03.


__________________________________________________



04.


__________________________________________________



05.


__________________________________________________



06.


__________________________________________________



07.


__________________________________________________



08.


__________________________________________________



09.


__________________________________________________



10.


__________________________________________________



11.










Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 01 pages, 024 secrets from Secret Submission Post #383.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.

Comments

Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

Post a snippet of what you're working on at the moment! Fic, original story, fanart, art, an essay... Just a paragraph or image that sums it up or you particularly like. :)

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

I'll throw mine out there first.

“Shut the hell up, Lieutenant,” Lorne barks and Harrilson’s mouth snaps shut. He waits a beat and then continues in the same easy tone. “As for McKay? He’s not an easy guy to get on with, but he’s saved the lives of everyone in this city at least once. People want him around.”

He leans in. Harrilson glances at him uneasily.

“So it seems to me we might have a problem here, Lieutenant. Either you’re misremembering what you told me, or you’re lying - and that? That is going to be a big problem,” Evan says, letting his voice drop - low and dangerous.

Harrilson’s mouth goes tight with resentment. Evan waits him out.

“Must have been a trick of the light, sir,” the Lieutenant says eventually, every inch of him radiating attitude.

“Must have been,” Evan says evenly.

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

This reminds me, I haven't read new SGA fics in forever. I hope you'll be posting whatever this is soon-- I'm intrigued!

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

Audrey eyed her phone. “We should probably give Duke a heads-up, let him know that the situation has changed. He needs to know what to look for, and he’d probably appreciate knowing exactly why a small woodland creature is honor-bound to him.”

A slow grin crept over Nathan’s features. “Because he’s turning into a Disney Princess?”

The mental image was enough to stop Audrey in her tracks for a moment. “Probably not how I’ll put it,” she said, highlighting Duke’s name on her contacts list. “As interesting as it would be to see his face.”

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

I have no idea what fandom this is. I LOL'ed anyway.

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

Does knitting count, anon? I am currently casting on a purple cable-knit sweater.

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

I'm gonna need to see rows 8-14 ASAP. Knit faster.

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

Not OP, but I'd like to see! Just the combination of purple and cables sounds really nice.

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[badass_tiger]

Why not? I'm not very far yet, very busy, but hey:

"'Prosecutor Blackquill!' Fulbright stirred as if to move to him, but appeared to think better of it. He settled for looking earnestly at him, and Simon wondered how he could have been fooled by the Phantom's impersonation. Even in his beat-up state, Fulbright was more full of life and sincerity than the Phantom had ever been. 'Aren't - aren't you in your shackles?'

Simon stared at him. There was so much he had missed and Simon felt as if he could never really fully catch up on the things that had happened in the past year. 'No, my innocence in the case seven years ago was proven just several hours ago. I've been freed from my chains.'"

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

Not familiar with this fandom, but I do love your writing style! Well, from what I can see here of it anyway. :)

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[feotakahari]

Where do you post fic? I'm quite interested in where this is going.

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[iwasanartist]

I *just* started a sequel to Caught Up in the Pleasure or The Pain:

This is all I've got so far, though:
"Javier was pretty sure this was what bliss felt like. He'd had a lot of relationships before -- full of fun and fiery passion with more women than would probably be wise to count. But none of them could match the pure, blissful contentedness that he felt now, wrapped up in a bedsheet on a lazy Sunday with Kevin Ryan.

They'd been living together for about three months. The lease had finally run out on the craphole apartment Kevin had rented after his life took a decided turn southerly, and Javier never did like his own landlord, so it made sense for the two of them to look together. Especially now that they'd kissed and made up -- figuratively to the outside world, literally to each other -- after months of acrimony and bullheadedness."

I'm also working on turning Man Up into a vaguely organized slice-of-life series, but I started that before my Scrivener trial had run out, didn't think to copy it elsewhere, and now I'm locked out of it until I pony up the cash for the program.

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

He’d lost track of time other than in drink refills, but long enough later that the sun had gone down and the streetlights had turned on, something outside his schoolwork caught his attention. He looked around, trying to figure out what he’d noticed, until the young woman standing next to the other side of the table repeated herself. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

College AU shipfic, woo.

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[loracarol]

Bruce had had to lift Steve up for the ocular scan that JARVIS insisted on performing, and Bruce hadn't put him down, since Steve had clutched to him, terrified and elated in equal measure at everything he was seeing.

"Everyone, this is Steve Rogers" Bruce said, as all the others turned towards Bruce. There was utter silence for a moment, before Tony turned to Thor, yelling "you bastard, why didn't you tell us?"

Thor frowned at him, "I told you that our companion was dealing with a 'little problem', does that not have the meaning I intended it to have?"

"No!"

"My apologies, then" Thor said, with a serious nod that turned into a smirk as soon as Tony looked away.

-----------------------

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

"My mouth is pretty? What the hell, dude?"

"Y'know, it's-- your lips, they're all, like, full and soft."

"I'm black, shit-for-brains."

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

Percy looked down at the bundle in Audrey's arms. They were all three tear-stained and sweaty, and a sense of fear lingered in the air, but underneath it all, he felt a warmth and completeness that he hadn't felt in years.

"Have you loves thought of a name yet?" the nurse asked. "We like to give new parents plenty of time, but with the war and all..."

Audrey looked at him and then back at the baby girl.

"We both liked Ava," she said.

"And Grace, for your grandmother."

"I like it," she said. "Ava Grace Weasley."

"I was thinking...O'Malley." Audrey looked up at him, almost stung by the words.

"You don't want her to have your name?" she asked.

"No," Percy said. He tried to keep his voice from shaking, but failed at every turn. "I want to have yours, if that's okay."

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

Now AU snippet, Sherlock BBC, Mystrade pairing:

It’s a day made for funerals. Vertical sheets of rain fall on the assembled people in the graveyard, huddled like crows under their umbrellas. Not one of them is a copper except Greg. John nods frostily at him as the church turns out and guilt twists in Greg’s chest.

After the service, the graveyard starts to empty quickly, a steady stream of people flowing away along the paths to the car park. Greg lingers for a moment, looking at the black marble headstone, feeling as if he should say something. He doesn’t know whether to apologise or curse the bastard.

“For fuck’s sake, Sherlock,” he settles on, speaking it quietly to the empty air.

In his mind’s eye he can almost imagine Sherlock’s contemptuous but amused snort, eyes rolling.

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

Snippets from different oneshots from a collection I'm working on:

I can't really put my finger on it. I think the shadows are in the wrong places, or they look like the wrong things, or maybe there shouldn't be shadows at all since it's so dark, but there are, and they're making my skin crawl.
---
"If you like your other hand, you'll shut up."
---
They'd had to pry it out of your hand, you'd managed to draw blood with how tightly you were clutching the damn thing.
(Part of an experiment writing in the second person. Yes, I see the comma splice. It's a stylistic choice for the tone of the fic and I like to think it'll be much less glaring in context. /britches)

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

(for a Hannibal fanfic...)

His stint in emergency care was a formless amalgamation of memories where they treated the encephalitis that had set fire to his mind. It was littered with holes, as if wasps had built their home there, their legs skittering on the inside of his skull, pulling out the nerve endings one by one.

The most he could remember from that time was white walls, the sting of an IV, and the taste of blood in his mouth. He also had a few distinct memories of Hannibal - the familiar scent of him, the feel of a hand pressed against his forehead, and the indistinct shape standing at the foot of the bed. Later, when he was conscious, the nurses told him that Hannibal had visited every day to check up on him. What a good man, they said. What a loyal friend.

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[(Anonymous)]

Well, I started this about a year ago, and then I lost track of it until a week or so ago. I'm stalled and can't decide what to do with this.

***

Once inside, Cam summoned the elevator then wandered down the hall until finding the door she wanted. She knocked on the door a couple times before Arastoo answered. He ushered her inside with a smile that barely met his eyes. He locked the door before placing a quick peck on her cheek.

"Where to?" she asked.

"Couch," he murmured as he guided her toward the living room.

Cam settled on the couch and watched Arastoo shut the blinds. With no view of the outside world, she glanced around at the tidy but lived-in space: a mat in front of the window, overstuffed bookshelves, and a worn black coffee table with a potted fern just off center. She looked up as he joined her.

"I fell asleep watching PBS after I found out about my paper not being published," he told her. "When I woke up, I saw these nubby-looking robots with skinny arms chasing people. I thought I was still dreaming or that I'd been hanging around Hodgins too long."

Cam snorted. "Did you ever figure out it was just a show?"

"Of course, and every once in a while I'll catch an episode."

"I never would have pegged you as a budding Doctor Who fan, Arastoo."

"Not really a fan, but it's fun. Gives me something else to do."

He wrapped an arms around her shoulders, prompting her to snuggle closer.

"I haven't watched that show in years," Cam said after a bit. "Maybe I should get caught up."

Arastoo chuckled and rested his chin on the top of her head. They sat for a while in comfortable silence, holding onto each other and sneaking occasional kisses. Arastoo broke the silence with a shaky sigh.

"What's wrong?" Cam pressed. "Talk to me."

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[lunabee34]

“I guess he—it?—he thought he was helping.”

Sara laughs, some ugly sound she never remembers making before Charlie died. “Helping? Jesus, Jack.”

Jack looks at the floor. “Yeah.”

Kinda long, whoops

[(Anonymous)]

Obi-Wan blinked.

"Pardon?" he said. He couldn't possibly have heard correctly.

"Anakin Skywalker," said Mace. "He is to enter your custody."

"I--what?" said Obi-Wan. "Forgive me, but I was... under the impression he would be expelled from--that is, not admitted to the Order."

"You assumed," said Yoda, flicking out one claw.

"If young Skywalker is as dangerous as you say, we cannot afford to risk him falling to the Dark Side again," said Mace. "No, he needs supervision. You."

"It was your desire to train him, was it not?" asked Ki-Adi-Mundi. Obi-Wan couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I never said that," he protested. "Not this time. Even I know how catastrophic that would be. Besides, he doesn't need training... or not for his skills, at least. He is--was--he rose to the rank of Jedi Knight before falling to the Dark Side. I know I told you this."

"Nonetheless, the Council urges you to--"

"What?" he interrupted, shocked and somehow betrayed. "You can't be serious, surely. You cannot possibly be serious about this."

"Enough," snapped Mace. "You may have achieved the highest rank a Jedi may attain in some alternative future version of events, but you are here now, Padawan Kenobi. You both are. And you will obey the Council."

Unbeta'd, yo

[blunderbuss]

He stopped. He could hear footsteps. Not the slow shuffling of the things but quick tiny footsteps that were headed right for them. Jean and Marco stared at each other in confusion. They cautiously looked inside.

There was another dark shape coming out of the darkness but it was quicker, smaller. Just inside the pool of pale light streaming in through the shopfront door was the little toy car and a small pale hand reached out of the shadows to grab it. Now that the figure was just within the light Jean could see it was (used to be) a little boy about the age of four, its round face covered by a mop of reddish brown curls. It was hunched over, rolling the toy in its hands.

Marco looked at Jean with wide eyes. Jean refused to look back, setting his jaw stubbornly. He tapped his walking stick lightly against the doorframe to get its attention. It looked up.

“Oh god.” Marco gasped, clasping a hand over his mouth.

Its lower jaw was gone, torn away by a savage bite that had left bloody trails across its cheeks. What was left was a gaping red hole that dripped near-black blood down its shirt, marring the picture of a cartoon tiger, down onto the white toes of its sneakers. One of its eyes was rotted and milky white but the other was a mottled red that stared right at them. No one moved.

Then suddenly a deep rasping gurgle came from its throat and it ran towards them, dropping the toy car. Jean readied his walking stick but Marco stared in horror, breath catching in his chest as the icepick trembled in his hands.

Just as the child thing crossed the threshold Jean whipped out the walking stick and yanked, sending the thing tumbling to the floor with a loud thump. He swore under his breath; he’d yanked too hard. The wretched thing was already squirming to its feet and he held it down with the stick. It hissed and spat like a wild animal and it took all of his strength just to pin it down.

“Now, Marco!” Jean whispered.

Marco didn’t move.

Walking Dead/Last of Us thing

[(Anonymous)]

"Holy fuck, there's a dead guy in here!"

Clementine sighed, digging under the counter for some more ammo boxes she was sure were still the back. "Don't worry, he's not coming back."

Ellie stuck her head around the corner. "Why the fuck is he chained to the radiator?"

"We did it in case he turned before I could get the gun. He didn't."

There was a brief awkward silence; they all knew what that meant. "Sooo..you knew him?" Ellie asked, and the tall man tilted his head to catch her answer although he didn't turn to look.

"Yeah," Clem sighs, and smiles a little. "He was my...he was my Joel."

Re: Post-a-sample thread

[feotakahari]

A little late, but:

“Applejack, I have to ask you this,” Twilight said. “I know you don’t want to tell me, but I need to know. How many?”

“It won’t help to know, Twi. It’ll just burn in your gut.”

“You know, don’t you?” Twilight asked. “You had to ask. You’re not the kind of pony who can just look away from things like this. I’m not that kind of pony, either. How many, Applejack?”

“Three so far,” Applejack said, trying to keep her voice even. “Thunderlane and Helia fell too far, and Ambrosia had an accident with some construction equipment. A lot of other ponies are missing. Twi, you won’t listen when I say this, but it’s my fault, not yours--”

“You were just the assistant,” Twilight interrupted. “It was my experiment. I should have set up better safety protocols. This is the kind of thing that gets ponies put in prison, Applejack! And since I’m a princess, the other princesses will be the jury.” She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “Princess Celestia is going to have to decide whether or not I’ll be punished for this. How am I going to look her in the eye?”