#kmau writes

[kittimau]

home where my love lies

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Robert Joseph MacCready/Female Sole Survivor

Tags: POV Mac, Pining, Idiots in Love, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Teasing, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, First Kiss, Smut & more

Summary:

MacCready's in love, but his mouth can't seem to get with the program.

Excerpt:

“I just want you to know how much your friendship means to me,” he’d said.

Friendship?!

He’s a fucking idiot.

Because whatever they are, they haven’t felt like just friends for a long time. At least not to him.

Link to Ao3

#fallout 4 #fallout fanfic #my fics #robert joseph maccready #maccready x sole survivor #female sole survivor #kmau writes #rj maccready #ch 1/2 is up now

[kittimau]

all it takes is love (and a leap of faith)

for @silvanils

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Alistair/Zevran Arainai/Male Tabris

Tags: POV Alistair, Established Zevran/Tabris, Threesome - M/M/M, Polyamory, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Demisexuality, Fluff and Smut, Enthusiastic Consent, First Kiss, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Light Dom/sub, Bathing/Washing, and more...

Summary:

For many long months, Alistair’s yearned for what he thought he could not have, and here it stares him in the face, both a dare and an invitation. Will they offer? And will he take it?

Link to Ao3

#dragon age fanfiction #zevran arainai #alistair theirin #dirk tabris #alistair x zevran x warden #polyamory #dragon age origins #satinalia masquerade #gift exchange #fandom exchange #kmau writes #my fics

[kittimau]

Diamond in the Rough

by kittimau

Rating: Mature

Relationship: David Anderson & Male Shepard (platonic)

Length: 2k+

Tags: Pre-ME1, Canon Universe, POV Anderson, First Meetings, Earthborn Vanguard Shepard, Implied/Referenced Past Underage Prostitution, Homelessness, Orphan Shepard, Trust Issues, Anderson is a good guy, Shepard is a little shit (affectionate)

Summary: His ex-wife always said he had a savior complex.

(A.k.a. Shepard needs a little nudge in the right direction)

Excerpt:

The boy instantly rolls and leaps up, knife in his hand before combat boots which have seen better days touch the slippery ground. He assumes a fighting stance, legs braced, and glares at David from between the fists protecting his head.

The kid’s a damned powerful biotic, and likely doesn’t even have an implant yet. A true diamond in the rough. David grins like a kid on Christmas morning, practically giddy.

“You could be better,” he muses, almost to himself. Then, shouting above the rain, “I’ve got a different proposition for you!”

Link to Ao3

#mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #my fics #commander shepard #david anderson #rating is for themes and language #future mshenko in series #mass effect legendary edition #mele #jules shepard #my ocs #kmau writes

[kittimau]

Tagged by @kunstpause​ & @queen-kass-the-writer​ thanks, loves <3

I’m kinda tired of not sharing recent writing on main since it’s from a different fandom, but my moots have inspired me to throw away my last fuck. So here’s a preview of two of my Dean/Cas WIPs!

Ch.7 of Can’t Keep My Eyes Off You

          His head is heavy, the ache that started at its center having steadily spread to his temples despite the over the counter painkillers he took an hour ago, and his throat’s begun to feel sore. He watches the TV beyond Cas’s shoulder with his chin propped on folded arms, but his eyes gravitate to Castiel against his will every few minutes. He has beautiful hands (well, beautiful everything, really). Long, graceful fingers fold with routine precision, a stack slowly forming between them as the time passes. Dean loves these rare moments of leisure, the days they get to spend together doing anything and nothing in the home they’ve made their own. 

           Before long, his eyelids begin to droop.

          “Dean?”

          “Huh?” 

          “How’s your head?”

          He gives Cas a slow, sleepy grin. “Never gotten any complaints.” Cas’s eyes narrow and head angles to the right, mouth forming a small circle. Dean can almost hear the whoosh of his joke flying right over the guy’s head. Letting his head drop to his forearms he mutters, “Forget it,” under his breath.

Next one is mildly NSFW so putting it under a cut...

Untitled One-Shot

          “You’d better not be touching yourself yet.”

          “No! No, I’m uh. Hold on.”

          Hurriedly, he slides the cloth over his feet and up his bowed legs. Adjusts the fit until his now-hard, throbbing cock sits perfectly, the swollen and blushing head peeking through the top of the lace waistband, just above a tiny bow. He grabs his phone, tongue darting out over his plump lower lip as he turns the camera on and snaps several pictures. But something feels off, taking them standing like this in the middle of his room, so he lies down on the bed instead. 

          Back against the headboard, he props up one knee, lets his legs fall open a bit, and reaches his free hand down to tease at the lace edge. His eyes are low and heavy with lust, hair wrecked from disrobing so messily, the gentle lamplight throwing his features into sharp relief. Somehow he knows this is the one, and before he can overthink it, he hits send.

          The moment Cas receives it is punctuated by a harsh, shaky gasp. “Oh, Dean. Fuck. Panties?”

Tagging @charlatron​ @dothwrites​ @jacklyn-flynn​ @kemvee​ @elveny​ @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold​ @zuendwinkel​ @schoute​ @pikapeppa​ @serial-chillr​ @laraslandlockedblues​ @johaeryslavellan​ @storybookhawke​ @visceralcoma​ to share some writing or art y’all are working on. No pressure!

#little more than six sentences but oh well :p #six sentence sunday #my wips #kmau writes #supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #destiel fic #ao3 fics #not da #weekly wip game #mlm #m/m #orange

[kittimau]

Day 2: Dreamer

Read it on Ao3

        Only in Dreams

It is home, but not home.

         Hawke knows this as all mages do, awareness pressing close and firm like the heaviness of water though his body feels pliant, weightless, and buoyant as it’d be floating upon the waves. The colors are always just a bit off, the gleam of sun and candlelight a touch too brilliant, sound distorted and muffled by a quiet, constant susurrus, the air devoid of scent. Here he navigates across the timeless and eternal depths of his memories, replicas of the waking world, with practiced ease. Seeks comfort in nostalgia and familiarity.

         Carver sits at the kitchen table as he usually does in this particular dream - one of Garrett’s favorites. Though Carver has not been “little” a day in his life, he grins, because he was taller than his little brother then, broad like the father they both took after, and could still carry the boy on his shoulders on their trips to Lothering’s market. And Bethany, sweet Bethany, beside him, so fragile yet strong in her way, all beautiful mirth, and captivating smiles.

         How I miss her.

         The curve at the corners of his lips droops, the light in the house dimming with a brief flicker before he can tame the emotion, reel it back. Because they aren’t here, not really. Mere spirits, friendly ones kind enough to indulge the fantasies he only allows himself in the Fade. Out there… out there they pain him too greatly. He pushes them aside with drink, with women and men. Hedonism is an easy escape, blissful yet temporary just as life is, thus he never hesitates to dive headlong into carnality there.

         In this precious place, however, it’s the softer things that soothe him. Sometimes it’s the days before the Blight, others it’s the Hanged Man and games of Wicked Grace and Varric spinning tales, and still others it’s that night with Fenris which feels both too close and so far gone. Beneath the sarcasm and arrogance he carries like a shield lies a tender heart, one that’s been broken more times than he can count, and only in dreams does he expose that buried, forgotten part of himself.

         It’s for the best.

         Too much rides on his strength, on his morale. He has borne many titles in his life, a life that feels exhaustingly long and simultaneously short enough for him to acknowledge the vastness of experience and accomplishment ahead. Thief and scoundrel, notorious philanderer, noble, fearsome and powerful mage, savior and defender of innocents, lover, friend, heir, and first and foremost, brother.

         He is Garrett Liam Hawke, firstborn son of Malcolm Hawke and Leandra Amell, Champion of Kirkwall.

         Tonight, he sleeps, basking in the luxury of calm and joy the childhood he never truly had brings. Watches his siblings bicker, banter, tease and laugh with no worries, no burdens upon their shoulders but the daily chores of maintaining their tiny, peaceful corner of Ferelden farmland.

         Tomorrow, he wakes to a mansion near empty as his heart.

#Artober #BTV Artober #Day 2: Dreamer #kmau writes #dragon age fanfiction #Garrett Hawke #Hawke x Fenris #Carver Hawke #Bethany Hawke #dragon age fanfic #my writing #dragon age 2 #da2 #Artober2020

[kittimau]

Day 1:  Breach - Nightmare - Character POV

Read it on Ao3

      The Abyss

It’s always one more thing.

          Killed the Big Bad? On to the Bigger Bad.

          Completed a mission? Here’s five more.

          So it wasn’t a surprise when Varric’s letter arrived. The first time he read it, he’d laughed. Not “this is hilarious” laughter, but “well, shit, we’re all gonna die” laughter.

           Garrett sighs, idly thumbing through the crinkled yellow parchments, already worn thin at the edges. The stalactites surrounding him drip, echoing through the musty, candle-lit cavern where he bides his time. Ink smudges decorate his fingertips, streak across his forehead and cheeks from running them through his hair and beard. He reaches for the cup on the "desk", if it could even be called that, to find it empty and huffs, slamming it down upon the rough-hewn surface. Standing, he groans from the ache in his back, neck, knees. His everything.

          I’m getting far too fucking old for this, he muses, pouring another drink. 

          First Kirkwall, and now this. The great, ugly, gaping maw in the sky taunts him every time he steps out of hiding, it’s swirling verdant miasma stretching and yawning further with each passing day, hour, minute.

          Still, curiosity gets the better of him for the millionth time. He wanders toward the entrance of the cave, steps more lithe than a mage’s has any right to be, cup in hand and disaster on his mind. That thing taints the entire sky, sickening green hues bleeding into the raw-edged bruise of impending sunset like slithering tendrils, grasping and polluting all it touches. He can feel it, even from here, rippling and electric. The sepulchral, unearthly energy extending through and beyond the Veil calls to him, a permanent and painful reminder of his failures permeating his every waking thought as well as his dreams.

          There’s a rift nearby, one of the Breach’s little offspring. Demons stalk its perimeter, their presence itching beneath his skin almost as pervasively as the magic flowing through his veins. Raising a palm, a small, roiling ball of flame springs to life inches above his gauntlet. He stares into its amber depths as it flickers and dances before clenching the fist around it, snuffing it out. Were the tears in the Veil so simple to seal, perhaps he wouldn’t be in this Maker-damned cave. In one long pull, he drains the remainder of the cheap wine and barely resists the temptation to hurl the cup into the darkening night.

          It’s all my fault.

          Blue eyes wrinkled by age and exhaustion flit to the sky once more. There was a time, not long ago, when he’d have cracked wise, masked the pain with humor and bravado. Yet now he watches the sky split apart in quiet, determined contemplation, wavering between apathy, despair, self-loathing, and seething anger.

          “We stand upon the precipice of change,” she’d said. “Watch for that moment... and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap.”

          He turns away.

          Soon, he will do what must be done. Even if it costs him his life.

#Artober #BTV Artober #Day 1: Breach #my writing #my fics #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #garrett hawke #dragon age inquisition #m!hawke #mage hawke #artober2020 #kittifics #kmau writes

[kittimau]

I'm curious about "The Witch and the King"

I wrote a Morristair one-shot back in February and want to expand upon it in some fashion. I’ve considered multiple routes - Origins novelization slow burn (though that would be a massive, lengthy undertaking), multi-game semi-epistolary (communicating via letters or other means during the times they are separated) compiled into a short series of one-shots, etc. 

I’ve been distracted by so many other things this year; university, the pandemic, raising kiddos, writing other fics, so it’s been placed on the back burner until I can gauge overall interest in it and solidify a plan.

That said, I did throw together a little something I can share with you. Dunno if I’ll end up using it or not but it’s been sitting in my WIP pile:

~

          They leave the Temple of Sacred Ashes battered and bruised, but unbroken. As they trudge through the snow toward their small encampment outside Haven, a deluge of adrenaline courses through his veins even hours after striking that final, savage blow. It’s a fire beneath his skin that the village’s eerie atmosphere cannot quell; not merely bloodlust, but also relief. Relief in knowing their trial has proved successful, that he’s a step closer to curing Eamon, he has defeated a high dragon - Maker! - and lastly, that his fellow companions are safe… 

          One in particular, most of all. 

          He glances to his left, gaze drifting lazily over the slender form of the woman who so frequently occupies his thoughts - and lately, his dreams. Her aura tingles like little pinpricks on his flesh, trembles down his spine, teasing that deep, oft-buried urge within to dispel, contain, control. Her magic is unlike any other he’s encountered; it claws at the edges of his mind. Raw, beautiful, untamed. Much like the dragon, in fact.

          Golden eyes flit across the distant treeline, intelligent and alert, little clouds escaping her tempting lips with each exhausted step. Morrigan catches him staring and scowls, a faint rosy hue dusting the apples of her cheeks. She turns away, sweeping a lock of raven hair behind her ear in a poor attempt to conceal her face. He grins. Every opportunity he gets to fluster her, instead of the other way around, is a victory more glorious than any he’s obtained with his sword.

~

Shoutout to @serial-chillr who also requested this WIP. Thanks for the ask!

From this post.

#ask me stuff #kitti answers #wips #my wips #tag game #tag meme #my writing #morristair #dragon age fanfic #morrigan #alistair theirin #alistair x morrigan #kmau writes

[kittimau]

Shianni??? Please tell me more!

Hey!!!

So this idea came from a random conversation a while back but I thought what if Shianni didn't stick around the Denerim Alienage? She did become a leader there in her own right, but I imagined a scenario where she became, essentially, a self-trained assassin working her way across Thedas, kicking ass and taking names, and eventually joined the Inquisition. The City Elf Origin has always been one of my favorites and Shianni really struck a cord with me so I enjoy musing upon her journey post-Blight. We'll see where that takes me!

Thanks for the ask! 😊

From this post.

#ask me stuff #kitti answers #wips #my wips #tag game #tag meme #kmau writes

[kittimau]

17 Questions

Tagged by @kita-lavellan Thanks, lovely! 🥰

Nickname: Kitti, Kmau, or Mau

Zodiac: Scorpio

Height: 5′4″

House: Ravenclaw

Last thing I Googled: "happy gif" XD

Song in my head: Renegade by Styx

Followers and following: 333 Followers, 326 Following

Amount of sleep: Today? Little over 3 hours

Lucky number: um... I don't think I have one

Dream job: Author

Wearing: my DA2 t-shirt and flannel PJ pants

Fave songs: too many to name lmao... mostly classic rock, probably. Dash of country and old emo hahaha

Instruments: Can't play any but my favorites are guitar, piano, and violin.

Random fact: I tried to write my first original story/novel when I was 13, and still have an old copy of the Word doc.

Favorite Authors: Michael Crichton, James S. A. Corey (pen name for Daniel Abraham and Ty Franck), George R. R. Martin, Thomas Harris, Jack London

Special shoutout to some of my favorite fanfic authors - @ellenembee @laraslandlockedblues @kauriart

Fave animal sounds: Kitty purrs! And the sounds dogs make when they're wound up and playful

Aesthetic: Piercings and tattoos. T-shirts, flannels & plaid, jeans. Sooooo many sweaters. Chuck Taylors, boots. Thick plastic glasses. Christmas/fairy lights in the bedroom all year round. Mandalas and tapestries. Elephants on everything. Black, white and grey with splashes of soft colors. Stacks of books. Tall trees and cloudy days. Driving with the windows down and radio up. Slouchy beanies and rolled up sleeves.

Tagging: @lostinfantasies38 @charlatron @schoute @lyrium-lovesong @faerieavalon @in-arlathan @johaeryslavellan @felassan @serial-chillr @fandomn00blr @jacklyn-flynn @thejeeperswife @kemvee @sunshinemage @cornfedcryptid @ranawaytothedas @tightassets @river-of-asgard@jennserr @sharkapologists and anyone else who would like to play! Please tag me if you do! ^_^

#17 questions #tag game #personal #kittimau #not da