1 - 20 of 23 Works by kinneas
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“You said we’re friends.”
In the corner of his eye he can see Stiles blink owlishly at that, a thousand hesitations flitting over his face before he settles on, “O–kay, way to hold what a guy says in the heat of the moment against him, got it.”
No. That’s not the only time he’s said it, and they both know it. In the In-N-Out parking lot, once Derek wasn’t being poisoned by human medicine or crushed under agonizing pain, and Stiles wasn’t about to throw up all over him. A couple times since then. All the buddys and some of the big guys. Derek stares at him long enough to make sure he knows they both know.
“…Yeah, okay,” Stiles gives in. “I guess, yeah. Seems weird if we aren’t.”
Derek watches the screen for another moment, head too full for the movie itself but tracking the light and the movement, breathing quietly. “Then, this? All this? It’s inevitable.”
Stiles says nothing for a moment. Maybe he’s cautious. Hopefully he’s afraid.
Instead, he whistles in disbelief. “Wow, you are the biggest downer.”
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Derek and Stiles still aren't the main characters.
[Ch 1: Original 2013 work (42k). Chs 2-5: Rewritten 2025 work (97k).]
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He tells them on a Thursday, when they sign their second lease together. They knew Ren was seeing someone. They knew Ren had a roommate. Now, they know the rest.
He doesn’t hear from them for a couple of months after that, but that’s nothing new.
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The Phantom Thieves of Hearts have faced down angels, demons, and gods. Now it's time to face the parents.
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“The quickest route to anywhere is a straight line,” Akechi says. “He’s a target, and I refuse to give up that easily. I’m doing this.”
Morgana turns his skeptical gaze on him. “Are you sure? You weren’t feeling so great earlier...”
Akechi watches their target for a moment longer, and the illusion of his soft yukata and softer hair dispels under his glass shard of a smile. There isn’t a trace of pain on his face anymore—only simmering, dark excitement. “As I said. I don’t like to lose.”
And neither does Ren. Yeah, they’re head to toe in yukata and sandals, and yeah, everyone is right: this is so, so stupid. Ren is so stupid. But he’s gonna climb this roof and catch that goddamn cop.
He meets Akechi’s gaze beat for beat. “Let’s do it.”
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Who says you have to see Morgana speak in the Metaverse before you can hear him in the real world? Not the few hundred officers who arrested Ren in Sae’s Palace two years ago, that’s for sure.
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“You’re so rude,” Ann says as she peels out of her shoes. Free and suddenly much shorter, she slides up next to him, leaning comfortably over the kitchen counter where he and Ren are gathered and bumping his shoulder. “Happy birthday, Goro.”
Goro falters. Thank you has always seemed like an odd response. Not that he’s had much practice.
“It’s Wednesday,” is what he opts for instead. That doesn’t seem better.
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Goro Akechi is turning twenty-three. The world often turns without him.
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“So I’m to be bait,” Akechi says flatly. “You’re serving me up.”
Ren can feel the grin on his face, and he can’t stop it. “I gotta open the store tomorrow, I only serve coffee.”
“Absolutely idiotic. Why would I agree to that?"
Ren shrugs one shoulder and leans back against the movie theater wall, smiling. He’s feeling light on his feet right now. It’s been a bad day, but the end is nice. “Call it penance.”
“Penance for what,” Akechi says.
His smile stays where it is as he glances away for a moment, then meets Akechi’s eyes again. “Being yourself.”
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Summer vacation back in Tokyo was supposed to be two things: an exciting break from the mundanity of home, and a chance to see people he's missed so much it hurts. If he survives, Ren has good news for himself on both.
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29 June, later — I wish to say this entry serves to further document the abyssal evil at work here in the event this diary ever reaches safe hands, but I cannot. It is a confessional, as I fear my mind shall not rest until I have purged these wicked thoughts onto the page. Once again, I find that this book is my only refuge.
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An omitted entry from the records of Mina Harker.
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When he closes his eyes, he doesn't hear her laugh.
“It's more like a cackle, though, right? She used to perv on Scott and it was so creepy, oh my god.”
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Two months is a long time.
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Play with it once, and it follows you home.
Stiles goes out on Christmas night. It's okay, he's seventeen now, and the Sheriff remembers enough about that age and the one right after it to know that sometimes these things get worse before they get better. He just tells him to be home by county curfew, puts the game on, and it's okay.
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After the fire, before the storm.
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A series of Dragon Age drabbles set in the Mass Effect universe.
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Your eyes go wide.
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The Post-Chantry minefield, and navigation thereof.
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"What was Anders here for?"
The Storm and What Came Before It.
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The fifth morning after their first night together.
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Hawke and Anders take a holiday. Explicit.
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After All That Remains, the mask begins to crack. Tumblrbox drabble.
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Sometimes you get exactly what you wish for.
Minor spoilers for a MotA banter. You know the one.
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Legacy's legacy isn't as great as all that. Hawke and Anders do what they can. There might be handjobs.
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Super porny epilogue to Eta Carinae, though it stands on its own.
Anders kisses like himself; deep, yearning, earnest. Also, while he's on the analogy, hot.
Series
- Part 3 of Eta Carinae
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Cid and Vincent talk. Kind of.