1 - 20 of 26 Works by winedisc
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In 1943, Maj. John Egan takes three days mandatory leave to Hammersmith, London. One day later, Gale Cleven flies his first mission over Bremen, where he is taken political prisoner in the Stalag Luft III.
They are about a million miles apart when Gale gets his first heat in years.
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Say what you want about her, but Margie Spencer takes good care of her boys.
Series
- Part 2 of the truckstop
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John places a hand against the brick, right above the kid’s ear. “And?”
The kid doesn’t shudder exactly, but something thrums up the length of him, though he acts like it doesn’t. He keeps John’s gaze, raising his chin. “Thirty for a handy. Seventy for a blowie. I don’t fuck unless you buy me dinner first, so don’t fuckin’ ask.”
or: Buck is a prostitute. John is curious.
Series
- Part 1 of the truckstop
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“Don’t,” Kendall warns, lips peaked in a laugh. “You know how I’ll get.”
Stewy hums, reaching over to touch; nothing sleazy, just a hand on Kendall’s shoulder, slowly massaging the muscle there. “What, cockhungry?”
Kendall shrugs in a way he never could sober. “Yeah,” he says. “Stewy-hungry. Fuckin’ stupid. Whatever. You want head?”
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John Egan and Gale Cleven up on a mountain. Things get pretty dramatic, eventually.
(It’s a goddamn shame there’s still a war on)
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“Kendall,” Stewy says, against his lips—tender, so tender—like flesh, like prime rib, and all he wants to be is between Stewy’s teeth.
Consumption, and lack thereof.
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Sex and drugs and drugs and sex, and Stewy.
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Izaya did not smile, but his lips did something in admittance. A faint twitch, but it was enough, because everything was up in the eyes. “You really are a bad man.”
Shizuo wore the words like a crown. “The worst.”
Or: Shizuo didn't know why it took them so long to get here.
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Shizuo can’t help but laugh. It’s a self-conscious sound masked under a deep layer of sarcasm. “You’re saying you’re lonely, Orihara? What, got no one else to annoy so you’re coming here to me?” He narrows his eyes, heady with a sudden surge of power he never seems to feel in Izaya’s presence. “That’s pathetic.”
“Careful,” Izaya warns, holding Shizuo’s suit jacket and ironing out invisible creases with the pads of his thumbs. “I’m not as fun when I’m irritated.”
(or: Shizuo got out of the Dollars years ago. That's until Izaya shows up on his doorstep, looking to strike up a deal.)
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so it goes: he is a visualization of the violence you reap.
and so it goes.
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You dream about a boy who is greater than you. You know this, everyone knows this. About the greatness—not the dreams. You’re the only one who knows about those.
(Or; Kise learns how to love.)
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Doctors, Deckard called them. But K knew they were engineers. His body was a machine and it paid to stay in tact.
This was his Friday night.
(Or; Sometime in the future, the last blade runners are used for entertainment in underground fighting rings.)
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Joshi tipped the glass thoughtfully. She watched the liquid slide precariously close to the edge. “Would it be easier if I made it an order?”
K’s heard those words before.
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Gojo pulls away, backing into the gun in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. His lips are bruised-fruit red when he smiles. “What happened to bygones?”
“I don’t tend to make the same mistakes twice,” Toji replies, runs the gun higher to trace the scar lining his throat. “You’re the prettiest mistake I ever made.”
Series
- Part 4 of tojigo drabbles of varying lengths
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Joshi pushes her chair back and it creaks. She sips her drink, tipping the rim gently, almost without thinking. “What is it that you want most in this world?”
Nothing that comes to mind would K ever say out loud. To be born, to be held, to be loved. “To have a soul.” He says, finally.
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“Not immortal, then,” Toji says, caressing the jagged, pink line adorning his throat. It’s as thorough as Gojo had been able to manage given the circumstances and lack of practice, a lighting bolt of fleshy, marred skin. “Just lucky, I guess.”
(Lucky is the last word he would use to describe his life.)
Series
- Part 3 of tojigo drabbles of varying lengths
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Levi can't sleep. Erwin teaches him of duty, chess, and what to do with his humanity.
(an aot drabble collection)
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sublimation by winedisc
Fandoms: Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club - All Media Types
19 Feb 2023
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Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. Tell me how we’ll never get used to it.
(An alarm, a kiss, and a fight— not necessarily in that order.)
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“I saw it,” said Rusty, his gaze flickering from Danny’s brown eyes to the salt and pepper strands of the hair lining his temples. He’s gotten older. “I saw you, in a box, getting lowered into the dirt. You’re dead.”
Or, Sometimes deadmen do tell tales.
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Wordlessly, Toji drags his touch away from Gojo’s skin and smothers it underneath the satin pillow case. It is cold compared to Gojo’s humid flesh, and Toji misses it the moment he loses it.
Series
- Part 2 of tojigo drabbles of varying lengths