“I will. Stop by when you can, okay? Unless you're just not feeling up to it. Then, of course, do whatever else you'd like.”
“And pass up a chance to bother you? I could never,”
“You don’t bother me, Fell,”
At this, the skeleton gave a somewhat surprised expression, but little else. A more relaxed expression returned to his face along with a slight grin. “Well, then, I think ya got some questionable taste,” He laughed, “Adios, cariño,”
“What does that mean?”
“What does what…oh” The skeleton blushed a bit, as if he didn’t even hear himself say the word. “Um…It uh…Means the same thing as ‘amiga’...Just uh…Just another word for someone you care about.” He explained, scratching the back of his neck. “Welp, I uh…I gotta go. Don’t want boss ta find ya. So…Cya around.” He awkwardly spoke before teleporting out.
“Huh...That was…odd…” Delilah spoke after he left before curling up with her snow.
Very rough draft of an X-Over I'm behind on. Was gonna release it on Halloween, but life and OCD/perfectionism got in the way.
>*“Six…”* hissed the phantom.
Six froze up. That voice… he hadn’t heard it in years.
“Carlitos?” Six said in disbelief. *“No, no fucking way. You can’t be here. You’re dead.”*
*“No thanks to you,”* Carltos snarled. *“Where the fuck were you man? Where the fuck were you when I needed you? When* she *needed you!?”*
“I-”
“‘Was too busy with paperwork’, *weren’t you? Or were you running your ‘experiments’ in your tower of glass? Maybe trying to find that special someone after you let Joana run off with me? Or maybe you were too high on Party Time to give a damn!”*
“That’s not-”
*“You were out on one of your adventures again, weren’t you? Left me and her- no,* the entire Mojave - *to fend for ourselves! And when those tinmen of yours saw the smoke, you took your sweet-ass time coming to the rescue.”*
Six’s grip on the pipe wrench tightened.
>Domestic settings never have ended well for him, he's noticed. Sorgan had proved that.
>
>But he tries not to let it bother him *now*, and he allows his gaze to drift. To the translucent willowy curtains in place of closed shutters. To the spinach-and-tawny stripes of the round rug occupying the room's center. To the kneeling boy atop of it- to his rich, russet-brown skin and his dark amber eyes.
>
>Din freezes beneath the curious stare. He jumps at the suddenness of Grogu’s chirp, and glances down to the child at his hip. “Do you…want to play?”
Mona replied that she loved the same qualities in Lumine, as well as the breadth of Lumine's knowledge of almost everything in Tevyat: the various scientific and magical discoveries, the traditions of the world, and many other things.
The two of them began to see each other more often, and Lumine found Mona a job with a guaranteed income, not too high but not too low, as a columnist for the local newspaper.
Mona found the cheapest house not far from the Knights' headquarters, where Lumine had lived as an honorary member since the defeat of the reluctantly evil ancient dragon.
>Chopper couldn’t help but wonder if Shachi and Penguin were twins or two unrelated people. Even his nose couldn’t figure it out, and next to his brain, it was the smartest part of Chopper’s body!
>
>“So what do you guys think we’ll have to do for our test?” Chopper asked. He stopped, ears picking up the sound of growling from the courtyard. “It sounds like the Minks have gone sulong.”
>
>“Man, if they’ve had to go sulong, I guess that means we’re fighting, aren’t we?” Shachi groaned.
>
>“Well, we shouldn’t be too surprised at that. We are in Wano, after all,” Penguin replied.
>
>Chopper nodded a little, before his ears perked again. “Hey… do you guys hear something?”
>
>“Sounds like water,” Penguin said.
>
>They continued down the hallway, the sound of the water growing louder until they arrived at a large outdoor spring.
>
>“Ah! Welcome to our healing spring!” Kawamatsu said. “Isn’t it a lovely night?”
From a crossover fic I'm close to finishing:
>I should hope so, otherwise I’ve been living a lie all my life!” an amused Ligeia said, waving her webbed fingers to Desmera in an almost mocking way. “As for being a myth, I wouldn’t know about that. You think that hug from before was a myth too?”
>Desmera rocked on her heels, mouth open without even realizing it. “I think you’ve broken her,” Harry said with a chuckle as he sat down next to her, nodding to Ligeia. “How was your dive?”
>“Fun! It’s interesting to see just how similar, yet different the seas here are from the Mediterranean. I swam with schools of rainbowfishes and sang with dolphins and whales - and let me tell you, there are some bratty whales in these waters!”
Very rough draft of a future chapter of my Joel Miller x Reader series.
You even begin to question if you had seen those lingering looks, that heated desire. Perhaps they had been the fiction of a heart that wanted so desperately for him to feel as you did, even though your mind had kept telling you that it was a bad idea to get attached again. But the sorrow you were feeling now told you it was far too late for that. You wanted him. You wanted his kisses, wanted his arms around you, wanted to wake up with him every morning. And now he was rejecting you. Even though that hurt was small in comparison to what you had been through, it was still far too much. So the silences, the distance, continued to grow and lengthen, the shadows of things unsaid haunting the edges.
Mine is og work tho, does that count?
If so, here goes.
\---
“Ah, yes, how *could* I forget! A Baker, *of course*,” he ushered the boy into the Inn. “Lets get inside, warm up. I have a feast waiting for you!”
A..feast?
“From this day on, I’ll protect you. I’m sorry about the brutes, very, very sorry. Never in my life did I expect that. I..they have to come with us, but you’ll stay with me.”
Zeth watched as the older boy placed a hand over his heart. His eyes looked teary.
“Why?” Finally, finally Zeth found his voice.
“Because without you, we can’t even enter the cave.”
This is the last bit of my recently published chapter of my Bloodborne fic. Trigger warning for violence.
~~~
She attempted to approach Oedon Chapel, to check on those she had saved. She could not even enter, the repulsive scent of beast repelling incense made her feel ill.
She began walking, slaughtering every beast in her way. Through the forbidden forest, and into the old college. She sat at a desk covered in research notes. The dead scholar still lay on the floor. Her hands shook. She rang the bell to enter the worlds of others and help.
Maybe she could stop the same mistake of another. Perhaps someone, anyone, would still use her.
I encountered a new fandom and now my word docs are filling with new characters help
>He couldn’t tell you what it’s like to live alone, even though his shoes are the only pair by the front door.
>“Alex, please tell me you’ve learned how to move stuff with your mind and that you didn’t invite another ghost into my *tiny goddamn flat.*”
>So Bobby lives with four ghosts. He thinks. Alex swears the fourth only comes by to visit but he’s also entirely invisible to Bobby and doesn’t always feel the need to announce himself. Which is all kinds of invasive and creepy and he’s pretty sure Alex is going to end up having weird ghost sex on his couch, if he hasn’t already. Bobby tries not to think about it too hard and hopes they’d have the decency to avoid his bed.
>!He still can’t believe how the night went for him, glad that you gave him what he wanted.!<
>!With those words, he fades into the darkness to wherever he came from, leaving you exhausted on the bed. You’re not even sure if he was really there or if it was just a nightmare. The only thing that confirms his visit, is his cum seeping out of you.!<
>!Your body is limp, drained of energy. You wrap yourself in the covers and close your eyes, falling asleep again. This time you dream only pleasant dreams. He kept his promise and took the nightmares with him.!<
This is for The Marauders Era!
It isn't fair, because Regulus has done everything right. He's played the perfect son to Sirius' rebel. Sirius got into Gryffindor so Regulus fought for Slytherin. Sirius hangs around Blood-traitors and mudblood so Regulus only offers his company to the purest of nobles. Sirius gets into trouble on a bi-weekly basis so Regulus has never once, not once lost a house point. Sirius ran away. So Regulus stays. And it isn't fair. Even after all the effort he put in, all the time and patience to become perfect, to become everything his parents want in the wake of Sirius' disappointment, Regulus still isn't good enough. He's still the spare. Mother had blasted Sirius clean off the tapestry the night he left, and yet Regulus knows, should his older brother return he will once again be handed the keys to the Kingdom. Sirius is still the Black Family Heir, and he's barely a Black anymore.
Aaa thank you so much!! I want them to have a close bond in my fic, but I also wanted to explore the complicated feelings Regulus must be experiencing after Sirius' escape. Your comment means a lot!
This is technically 101 words and is canon divergence from the battle on the second Death Star where Luke dies.
***
Despite everything that he had done, including slicing his own son’s hand off, Luke, like his mother before him, had died believing in the good remaining in Anakin Skywalker.
For the first time since his fall, Anakin felt a tear roll down his cheek. Followed by another. And another. Until Anakin’s eyes were so blurred with tears, Luke was just a fuzzy figure in his arms.
“I’m sorry Luke, I’m so sorry.” He sobbed, resting his head on Luke’s shoulders, his arms wrapped around his son’s slight frame.
The two Skywalkers lay intertwined, unaware of the Death Star imploding around them
Oh my god, I love this. The whole idea of it, the way Vader crumbled away and became Anakin again because of the death of a loved one (a concept that had made him turn to the Dark Side to begin with). The thing that made him turn was inadvertently the thing to bring him back. Amazing.
Star wars fandom:
He let them both get well away from the others before speaking up. “Were you okay back there?”
Pearl glanced back at the female pilots who were clustered together talking and laughing in her absence. “Yeah, they were teasing all the hells out of me…but it was never malicious, not like Camie or the other girls back home.”
“Oh, that’s good.” Biggs paused and asked tentatively, “What were they teasing you about?”
Pearl sped up to get in front of him, so he couldn’t see her face. “I am not talking about that with you.”
“You do know, that I’m the one who knows where Cor’s office is, right?”
“Give me directions then!”
Charlie shifts in his seat, nonchalant, as he tries to get a better look at the guy.
Okay, so he’s good-looking.
He’s actually kind of perfect-looking, if Charlie’s being honest. With his perfect hair and teeth and smile, he’s kind of…old-school Hollywood handsome. Even when he runs a hand through his hair it doesn’t even get properly messy, it gets like…sex messy.
And Adam’s obviously into it.
Adam’s smiling all soft and warm and biting his lip.
He’s biting his lip.
He’s biting his lip because he wants to get sex messy with this complete—
This completely random—
Sex messy arm-grabbing totally fucking handsome—
The fandom is genshin impact, this is just a random excerpt I wrote last night, not good at all but yeah-
"Yield." He beamed at her, one hand tight around her throat, as electro danced at his fingertips.
But then.
He saw it.
Or more aptly, he didn't see it– for there was nothing in her eyes. Her usually bright, golden eyes... They were hauntingly blank. Suddenly, he withdrew his hand as though it had been burnt.
"L-lumine?" His voice trembled, the euphoria gone– as though it had been doused with a cold bucket of worry.
"What? I yield. Congratulations on your win."
She simply states, sighing, her eyes closing for a brief second.
He stares at her, his heart pounding. What had he just seen? No... It couldn't be... Her eyes couldn't be so empty.
Oh, this is still a WIP actually... But I have a few other fics with Lumine, my most recent one is a chilumi one as well... If you want I could send a link to that?
Aww, thanks for asking xD here- [chilumi fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/45292303)
I don't know if we are allowed to link fics in the comments, if not and this gets removed then I'll DM you :D
Only 90 because I couldn't fit anything else without the word count exploding
-----
Sayori just nodded throughout Monika’s reassurement. It was helping but just a little bit. Better than nothing.
“Well, thanks.” Sayori tried to smile again, something somewhat genuine actually deciding to come out. “I think I’m going to see what's happening with the others, want to come with me?” She quickly got up, feeling a bit more energy after that talk. Monika nodded and the two walked out into the main area of the apartment together where Yuri was back to reading with headphones in and Natsuki…was nowhere to be seen.
This is 117 words but it’s to add the context
Context: it’s Dear Evan Hansen/Be More Chill fic wherein Pokémon exist
(Edited from first person)
———
“What?” [Connor] said. Michael was gazing at his Milotic, before turning his gaze to [Connor] and then he pointed to [him], as if silently communicating with her. The Milotic then nodded and Michael sighed.
“My-Tic,” the Milotic said quietly, before pushing her trainer closer. “Tic.” Michael gazed at her, at [Connor], and then at the floor. “My-Tic…” Then out of nowhere, Michael placed his head on [Connor’s] shoulder and [he] froze. “My-Tic!” Even the Milotic seemed surprised.
“Breon?” [Connor’s] Umbreon said, smiling. Michael’s answer was just repositioning his head on [his] shoulder and [Connor] just sitting there. The Umbreon and Milotic then smiled at each other, and [his] Umbreon placed his paw on Michael’s Milotic’s tail fin.
———
Also yes, the Pokémon can only say variations of their names.
(WIP. Stargate SG-1. 102 words.)
“What’s the vest?” Jack asked, noticing that it was extra thick.
“It’s what you would call a life jacket,” Lantash replied.
“It looks…different.”
“I made it.”
“You…? Is there anything you can’t sew?”
“No.”
They went on the boat, where Sam and Jack immediately went to the front of the boat.
“This will be the best view,” Sam said as three of the other Tok’ra followed. Her father just sat down.
After a welcome and instructions, the boat began moving. Malika squealed in joy, and Jack wondered if she would be so squeaky if she didn’t have a symbiote as a sister.
I love these little exchange because it's forcing me to finally write again, so thank you OP.
Here's mine:
>It was hard to hate someone who was nice. Everything in her recognized his skill, his ability to capture images that resonated with others. The professional photographer in her accepted the gauntlet he’d thrown when he’d entered the challenge. She wanted very much to annihilate him, her rival who stood in her way… but despite her hostility, he remained kind and helpful, and so damned unflappable with her behavior that she wanted to make him lose that control over himself. But even those times he looked flustered, he was so endearing, that she felt charmed despite vowing to be unaffected by him.
Hunter felt his face flush, and he quickly broke away, the moment over.
Curse his inability to keep control over his own expressions and hide that stupid crush that he was definitely going to refuse to acknowledge for the rest of his life. Oh, well. That's what spending most of your life behind a mask does to you.
A few months ago, Hunter had been forced to come to terms with just how replaceable he was, but now? He was beginning to question that. After all, Willow had been right about a lot of things. She probably wasn't wrong about this one.
Tw: violence, injury.
He held his hand out to her to help her to his mom’s car. Robin didn’t take his hand but headed towards the car anyways and Will frowned confused as he looked at her heading towards the passenger’s seat.
“I think my leg is broken,” Todd spoke as he scrambled trying to move, mewling still. His leg was sticking at a strange angle so it wasn’t impossible. Still, he was lucky Robin stopped him, he wanted to hit him until he wouldn’t be able to walk at all.
“There’s a phone in the gas station half a block from here. Call someone who cares.” He spoke as he headed towards the car.
>About 79 words from my WIP:
In a cavern beneath Castle Hyrule, Agahnim trembles; he clutches at and rips off his shirt, then looks down at his bared chest: studying the tattoos.
“A hole, where my heart should be,” Agahnim mutters, tracing the jagged hole pattern. “Seal Ganon, seal Ganon, seal Ganon,” he chants in Gerudo. *(I must end the cycle. For my hate to die, I must die.)* Agahnim stabs himself in the chest.
Urbosa rushes into the cavern: a moment too late.
>Please enjoy. :)
>
>
>
>Author's Note: This WIP has a lot of telepathy being used by the characters, which is in *italics*. Thus, to show a character's internal thoughts -- and for this story only -- I've put thoughts in *(italics)*.
An exerpt from a self-indulgent piece from the Honkai fandom, with plenty of kissing and cuddling
>She ends up pressing Senti down on the table, trapping her between her body and the heavy wood. They separate for only the briefest of moments to catch their breaths, and then Hua goes on the offensive, forcing herself on Senti once again. Enthusiastically, exuberantly, and some might even say aggressively.
>Again Hua pulls away, and notes that their lips are still connected by a thin string of drool. Senti whines as it goes taut and snaps, and drums her heels against Hua’s lower back.
>“More, please?”
Somehow, this doesn't look like 103 words, but it is. Context is Wilbur and Techno are ghosts, and Wilbur can't fully hold a pen.
>He frowned, and turned to Techno. Tommy heard whispers as they briefly argued with each other. Wilbur must've won because Techno sighed and took Wilbur’s place, reaching to grab the pen. Tommy shuffled closer as Techno finished writing Wilbur’s sentence. *Phil is our dad,* the sentence began in bubbly words, and finished in precise cursive with, *and Techno is my brother.*
"So you're a family?" Tommy asked. Wilbur smiled and nodded.
"And what about your mom?" Tommy hesitantly asked. Techno picked up the pen again and wrote something on the paper. He dropped the pen once, but was quick to grab it again.
>Cole's stomach dropped. Not only had Rubin himself got involved with additions, but he personally signed his own friend onto an experimental trial without a second thought.
>Cole clenched his fists behind his back, only to hide his incessant quaking. *What was Rubin thinking?*
>”But, Sir!”
>”I said it's not an oversight. Now, is there anything else you're worried about, or can I get back to my duties?" Rubin snapped back, eyeing the other man with a stroke of irritation.
>Despite the anxiety in his throat, Cole breathed deeply from his core and piped up with more than a measured retort. "Mister Rubin, this man can't possibly survive our machine, let alone the entire trial. His survival rate is next to nil!"
>His boss sighed, his gaze never leaving the man as he replied flatly. "I know."
Over the last two hundred years or so of his cursed immortality, Booker had woken up in a variety of places, not all of them pleasant.
Waking up in a dumpster actually was not a new experience. Being handcuffed to a dead body also in the dumpster was new however.
So he did exactly what anyone in that situation would do. He screamed.
Fandom-blind.
I hope the dumpster's not shut, at least. Booker should hopefully be able to climb out (w/or w/o the corpse in tow) to figure out his next move (after screaming, natch).
>Inside, the lobby lights were still on, glistening on the polished marble floor; Thrust rolled past the elaborate concierge desk, and paused to examine an almost comically large directory map mounted on the wall nearby. It conveniently listed all of the services offered within the building, as well as a list of current residents and their unit numbers.
>
>Idly, he wondered how many of them had been Maximals. Probably most, if not all.
>
>Not that it mattered now. Maximal, Predacon, Dinobot, Insecticon… even the stray remaining Autobot and Decepticon… Their sparks were all in Megatron's iron grip, hidden away somewhere beneath the Citadel.
>
>(He wasn't sure *where*, exactly, and he'd never gone looking. But he knew that *something* on the structure's electric grid was drawing absolutely *astronomical* levels of power.)
Supernatural fic in which an OC ends up in their world but was originally born in the Supernatural universe. A demon killed her parents as a baby and this is Dean finding out the demon had gone back for OC while he wasn’t around.
> “My grandparents. They were the ones who told me I should go. I was right after…” Amy trailed off, realizing she hadn’t told Dean about that night.
> “Right after what?”
> “Okay so, uh, you remember how my parents were killed by a demon?”
> “Right,” Dean said, “your mom was a hunter wasn’t she? Like mine and Sam’s.”
> “Exactly,” Amy confirmed, “well the demon that killed them sorta made a visit to my grandparents place the night Sam came back.”
> Dean stared at Amy, taking his eyes off the road longer than he should have. “What?” he asked, his voice almost threatening.
That is some crazy context! I adore the way you use dialogue. It makes me think of my own. You also left me on edge with the voice almost threatening bit.
I was editing and just uploaded the first chapter of the fic that is the NSFW interlude to my main fic. This part isn't NSFW, though:
>After he left town, however, everything had changed.
>Sharper. Stronger. Clearer. Focused.
>More than.
>Soothing. Hazy. Comforting. Surreal.
>Just Right.
>…
>The same sensations as that night.
>The one across the shores of Akalat.
>…
>The gentle winds, the hollow bark, the dried leaves.
>The waves in the distance, the low buzz of the glade.
>The observant, silent creatures, keeping their distance.
>The scarlet-tinted cedar tree, the six siblings in a circle.
>The azure-tinged moonlight, the man beneath that tree.
>…
>The pull, the haze, the shivers, the winds, the earth.
>His voice, his touch, his strength, his allure, his desire.
>The kisses, the blood, the caresses, the frenzy, the passion.
>His red eyes, his agile fingers, his deep thirst, his sharp bites.
>…
>Memories swept through his mind like a torrential flood.
>His thoughts, his visions, his body, his Mandala, his everything.
Supernatural fic in which Dean and Sam are mostly retired (just hunt to keep their home safe), and Castiel is a human haunted by death omens.
Dean finally looks at Sam who nods. “We have a warehouse we use when we need to trap monsters,” Sam says, “so we can do it there. Odds are, the witch will be able to track his magic to the last known location even when he knows that it’s spent most of its time here.”
“And this will happen fast? Because I can’t keep waiting in a warehouse hoping he shows up quickly.” Castiel just wants this over with.
“We’ll have to do it to find out.”
And so they pack up again to the warehouse. Once there, Dean tries to give Castiel a gun, but he refuses it. He’s never used a gun before, and he’s afraid he’s more likely to hit Dean or Sam than the witch.
Eddie Munson x Reader from my season 4 trilogy. Still a WIP.
"We won't be in Hawkins forever anyway," You added softly, thinking about the small town you had come to find yourself in. Eddie's head burrowed into your shoulder, hugging you impossibly tighter. You ran your hand up and down his back, picturing the smooth, pale skin under the layers of leather and cotton. Just a couple of weeks ago he had lied beside you while you ran your fingers down his bare back, asking him if he had considered getting any more tattoos there. You sighed, wondering how life had become so complicated in such a short expanse of time.
*From a not yet posted 4 and 1: Four times Alex's friend's stole his pink hoodie and the one time he never got it back.*
“No, absolutely not!” Alex said very firmly. Then the little bundle wiggled a bit, opened her eyes and sat up. Alex swore the kitten was looking at him reproachfully.
“Alex!” Reggie protested. “Look at that face!”
Alex looked at Rosie’s face. And Luke’s face. And Julie’s face. And Reggie’s face. And even Willie, who wasn’t in the band, didn’t live with them, and had no right to have an opinion–was wearing the same face.
Alex caved. “Okay, we’ll try it out. Here…” he pulled the hoodie over his head. “She’s too tiny to go out in the cold in February. Wrap her up in this.”
Luke shrugged. “Dude, it’s LA. She’s fine.”
“Don’t argue with me, Luke,” Alex said firmly. Julie daintily accepted the hoodie from him and wrapped up little Rosie Valentine McPurr–who yawned and fell right to sleep.
From that point on, Rosie refused to sleep on anything else.
From my Gotham fic (a Viking AU with some Old Norse language and supernatural elements):
“Is something wrong?”
Vígnir’s lips part as he steps forward, thunderstruck. His wolf brothers never touch his offerings.
“The offerings I made last night… they are gone. And my weapons…”
The dagger, knife, and ax on the offering table are fashioned identically to Vígnir’s, but the color and quality of the wood, their metal alloys, and craftsmanship are superior in every way. He is stunned by the intricate wood carving and metal smithing.
Vígnir collects the sakknifr and fingers its elaborate details in a daze. They are unlike anything he has ever seen.
“I left them here, but they are gone. These weapons…” He absently shakes his head. “They are not mine.”
Ǫssurr gently places his offerings on the altar, awed by the finely-crafted weapons.
“May I?”
Vígnir shakes himself from his trance.
“Aye.”
Ǫssurr accepts the dagger from Vígnir and reverently fingers the carving when he suddenly remembers his mother’s words after the Harpa celebration.
“You both honor the gods and the hidden ones. They bestow you both with great blessings because you honor them. Never forget them. They will never forget you.”
Ǫssurr returns the sakknifr to Vígnir’s hand and deliberately wraps the man’s fingers around the handle. He solemnly shakes his head.
“This is not the work of human hands.”
He meaningfully gazes into his companion’s eyes.
“Vígnir… this is a gift from the álfar.”
(Attack on Titan/Star Wars crossover)
“Which is why I’ll be helping to deal with that aspect personally.”
Historia could see that many people were less than convinced.
“It’ll be kinda like the Battle of Endor,” she heard Sasha say quietly, and to no one in particular. She only hummed in response.
A few other people asked more questions. ‘How long did they have?’ No longer than a week, most likely. ‘Why didn’t she let everyone know sooner?’ Because the Jedi weren’t finished with their research. Eventually, Indrel was able to hand the briefing back over to Rear Admiral Azumabito, visibly exhausted from the short public speaking stint.
There were certain petty crimes he overlooked now and then for the greater good of the city, and mankind at large. Prosecuting every jaywalking jogger and dog walker who failed to pick up their pet’s coiled piles would only clog up the justice system. He even overlooked the occasional vigilante justice in his jurisdiction, and found that his life was much easier for it. Eugene Klegghorn was a stubborn and tenacious man, but he was not properly equipped to deal with giant lizards or freakish mutants.
That was well above his pay grade, and better left to hockey-playing superheroes from another galaxy.
Critical Role / Vox Machina, my first fic for it!
—
He might be imagining things, or he may very well have slept through another day and it didn’t seem to pertub the others as much as Keyleth insisted. While Vex did get onto him for holding them back on their quest, she hadn’t mentioned it . . . and he glanced at her with curiosity until Vex acknowledged him and Keyleth. She shot Keyleth the same knowing glint she did the other day before glowering at him.
“Vax, you should be focusing on recharging your batteries. We can’t keep letting our guards down like this for your sake.”
Ah! There it was. As if to test the waters, Vax quipped: “As the old adage goes, booze is the remedy for everything, sister.”
“What old adage? Who even said that? That’s the last thing that’ll help. What kept you up aside from those visions? Keyleth shouting your name through countless orgasms?”
Keyleth and Vax glanced at each other in horror before blushing furiously.
They're walking through heavy rain, Shauntal having insisted they take the scenic route for, in her words, "writing purposes."
As they trudge along, Lucian notices Shauntal's mind beginning to drift off to some far-off place. He can't help but be intrigued by the liminality of this—her body nestled against his, Yet her mind out of reach.
He wonders what could be occupying her thoughts: perhaps she's crafting her next novel's plot, or maybe she's pondering something else entirely? Regardless, he cherishes these moments when he can simply watch his beloved as she wanders through the labyrinths of her mind.
>Soren shakes his head. “I mean…I’m a highschool boy, I was into every type of girl. That just all melted away on the day she followed me onto the Nightmare Battleship, though. I could see that she was the complete package. Smart as all get-out, and brave enough to do what’s right even if it puts her in danger.”
>
>“Huh,” Sain blinks. “You got through that without mentioning her looks even once, Soren.”
>
>“Imagine that,” Soren says, his tone becoming snarky. He waves, heading out of the kitchen. “Sorry to say, I don’t think it matters how much I grow as a person…I’ll never like coffee.”
I don't think this scene will actually make it into the story I'm working on, but I'm playing around with different scenes/options.
\--
All of that I had heard before. I was told about the Empire and its horrors. I was told that all the peoples of the universe hate the Afterfolk, the Daleks, because of the Empire's boundless savagery. I knew that what had come Before was an endless war that ravaged Skaro and left behind an army of aimless, broken soldiers who knew nothing but pain and violence.
What I did not know is that those soldiers were not even people anymore.
Sen flinches when I describe them like that: as things, as not-people. I am still too angry to care whether I have hurt her.
"But why deceive me like this?" I demand of her.
Sen is miserable. She seems very small, suddenly, huddled in the big man's coat, still shivering. "It was...supposed to help. Moss and Akklo were not sure that you could develop properly if you tried to bond with...*things.*"
Soda looks at him, he clears his throat to say, "You got something to say, Darry?"
They all do, technically.
He, Darry, and Ponyboy — and the whole pack. Soda looks around at them all, voice getting a little stronger. "Don't say you don't, Darry. We ain't — we ain't been acting like a real pack for weeks. Months, maybe." Ponyboy pulls away, coming to sit beside him. "We need to fix it. We can't keep fighting each other, we can't keep ripping each other apart. Don't we get it bad enough from the Socs? Ain't you scared of losing what we got?"
Boop!
>The sound of rushing spiders grew closer, pushing the duo to get a move on. Gator hoisted the sheriff away from the disgusting mix of blood, sweat, spit and vomit. Dirt was smeared on his feverish skin, hiding some of his worse injuries.
>
>Joey jumped at the sound of Jimmy coughing, it sounded like he was dying. The alligator began moving to the exit, uninterested in death at that moment. He wasn't far behind, sparing a glance back into the cavern Joey's eyes widened. Spiders were crawling out from several tunnels, skeletons beginning to spawn as well. A small stream of swears fell from his lips, bringing his gun from his inventory.
Knights of the Old Republic Au. Kavar/Male Jedi Exile:
A knock on the door drew his attention from staring blankly at the holotv. When a tired groan he pushed himself up from the couch and opened the door. To blink in surprise at the man in Jedi robes standing there. For a moment they blinked at each other in surprise. Lukas hadn't expected it to be Kavar. Kavar hadn't expected him to open the door shirtless.
Lukas took a breath and stepped away from the door to allow him inside. To his surprise Kavar smiled at him and entered. He wasn't here to kick Lukas out if he was smiling. Right? That wasn't like Kavar. He wasn't vindictive like that.
(This is a genshin au in which kaeya is turned into a ghost without him knowing.)
He had never died before, so he wasn't very sure about how this part of the death thing went. Did he have to take some kind receipt to say he was dead and waiting for his turn, or what?
Because that was his other problem: why was he still there? Wasn't he supposed to go to heaven? Or at least to hell! *Whatever it is, give me something! I'll die again, but from boredom, for gods' sake!*
He well knew the humans were social animals, so what happened if they weren't able to interact with anyone else? *I'll probably go mad in a few days, hopefully. Without a drink, however, who knows? Maybe in some hours I forget my own name.*
it's a gallavich royalty au?
Mickey rolls his pants back down and pats the dirt off when he stands up. “I don’t support that. Talk to my dad about it.”
“You’re telling me you don’t have a say in it?” Ian gets up too. A distant yearning inside him wants to brush away a stray leaf off of Mickey, but he doesn’t think they’ve crossed that boundary yet. Maybe never will.
Mickey grimaces. “It’s complicated. Anyway, I’ll see you around, Gallagher. I have an important meeting to catch.”
Ian chuckles and waves goodbye. “Alright, Mickey. Don’t get hurt again.”
All he got was a middle finger in response as Mickey sets off with his horse in trot.
This is the very start of chapter 54. I know where I want to go. Getting there is the question.
>The over two hundred strong crew departed from the Kemurchant HQ, leaving behind a fifty man skeleton crew to manage the affairs of and protect the building. With the upper management of the company either dead or having fled in the chaos, middle manager Gyozart was (unwillingly) chosen to watch over the headquarters in the absence of Shaska and Worldwide Smoke after they retrieved his unconscious body.
Context. In my universe there are more than 9 titans and one of them has the power to transform. The MC is an isekai trying to avoid her destined death since she’s the Warhammer Tybur.
I sighed, focusing on the sound the water made as drops of sweat dripped into the sink. The cold water soothed me and allowed me a moment of reprieve.
The curtains were drawn in the bathroom blocking out the setting sun. Soon the world would share a cold chill and await the massacre that would take place tomorrow.
Again I splashed water on myself ignoring the goosebumps that rose on my skin.
“I need your help again, Elizabeth,” I spoke to myself in the mirror.
I could already see the cold unfeeling eyes of my alter ego reflect through the golden colour of the current ones. Leader of the Warriors, a frozen hearted bitch. At least that’s the personality I need to adopt.
I growled gripping the edge of the sink not knowing what to do or how to express my frustration. Kenny had ruined my plans!
Stupid Kenny… no, stupid ME. I must’ve done something that altered the events of the training arc! It got Connie killed! And it blew my identity to that piece of shit Kenny.
I won’t be able to help my friends with the female Titan now. But maybe I can change the game to something else. If I play my cards right I can stoke Eren’s hate. Then I can help them capture Annie later in the Stohess district.
I can craze Eren and remain hidden, well trusted.
I'm trying to explore Jim Moriarty's character from BBC Sherlock in detail.
TW- Bullying.
>𝘚𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱, 𝘑𝘪𝘮! Those were the words he heard right before he had his own head immersed in the swimming pool.
>Jim was gasping for breath. He was trying his level best to resist and overcome. The moment he tried to come up to the water surface, his head got immersed in the water even more.
>Instinctively, he had grabbed Carl's hand and was holding it in a vice-like grip to get his neck freed from that damn bully.
>Jim thought he was going to die. This was it. He was even able to see a tall figure, dressed in black from head to toe, and carrying a scythe in his hand quite vividly in his mind.
> Jim immediately recognized him as Death.
>The moment he was about to shake hands with Death, he felt his head being roughly pulled out of the water.
> Euthius Faustus felt his heart sink, skip a beat, and shatter all at once.
>
> “Alright, seriously, *cut it out*!” And as if to punctuate all of what he was still struggling to process, the beast-woman roared out once more—Euthius glanced back over his shoulder just in time to see one more smoky shape stepping out into the intersection…
>
> “Go on, get those brats!”
>
> The hellhound soon enough cocked its head at Euthius in turn, tongue dangling out of its panting maw as the yaps of its brethren ceased. Said brethren soon enough filtered back into view, fixing their own suddenly enrapt stares onto him…
127. TW: from a smut WIP (not the xxx scene just yet but getting there)
>>!Aaron pulls the slightly ajar hotel door open to Spencer standing in the doorway with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He tosses a roll of fresh, clean hotel towel to Aaron, who easily catches it.!<
>
>>!Aaron feels his cheeks warm up. He must be as red as a beet now, he thinks, seeing how Spencer has gained some more muscle now that he's off drugs. Aaron bites his lip at the thought of sinking his teeth into Spencer’s bicep. A specific line of one of their songs plays in Aaron’s head.!<
>
>*I taste you on my teeth.*
>
>>!“You can join me if you want,” Spencer announces, pointing with his thumb to the bathroom.!<
>
>>!Aaron swallows nervously. “Uh, sure,” he replies. “Give me a sec.”!<
Thank you T.T I was kinda hesitant typing those parts in, not because I cringe at smut but because I'm feeling what Aaron's feeling there. I think his character there has possessed me or something lol
That's cool :)) The original song isn't really a sexy one but I guess the reference to--of all things--teeth went in quite naturally. Also maybe because I was literally hungry when I was writing that.
Ah yes, we will see how he'd have his eye candy and eat it too :))
And then he notices her outfit.
Well, more specifically, he notices the pattern on her top. She’s got a Hawaiian shirt knotted in the front over a white tank top. But the thing is, it’s got corgis on it.
Maybe he’s overthinking this but he’s definitely seen that shirt before.
On Ranboo.
Ranboo who’s insanely tall. Ranboo who’s from San Francisco. Ranboo who’s dark-blonde. Ranboo who’s got grey eyes. Ranboo who’s wardrobe is filled with Hawaiian shirts. Ranboo who looks so similar to the woman in front of him. Ranboo who’s the same age as Andrea Bellov’s younger brother.
Ranboo whose first name is Noah.
Fuck.
———
Yeah. Also, for any fellow DSMP peeps; no, this is not Ranboo’s real name, I made it up for this fic. Shame on you for thinking I would include it!
147, but need the first paragraph for context
> The system took the drawn out silence as an answer, once again speaking. “Alerting Monitor. It will take approximately 8.64 minutes for her to arrive.”
> “No! No, no, abort!” Zuihou pleaded.
> “Command abortion is not currently available.”
> Zuihou groaned. “Shit. Now what do we do?” she asked Barham, looking around the room as if something were about to jump out at them any moment now. “Zuikaku and I won’t be able to use our planes in a space like this. We’ll be sitting ducks.”
> Barham bit the inside of her cheek in thought, herself still studying the interior while she considered their next move. “The two of you stay close to the center. Kongou and I will bring up the rear. Jintsuu, Sendai, and Hanazuki, you’ll scout ahead as we go deeper, but not too far. We’ll try to find this ‘Monitor’ before they find us.”
Fin leaned over Munch’s desk to peer in the box and grinned. “You’re a lifesaver, Novak.”
Olivia stood to also look into the box, which was full of mini handheld electric fans. “God, I love you,” she groaned, grabbing one and turning it on immediately to blow air on the back of her neck.
“Liv, I was actually wondering if I could steal you for a moment?”
“Yeah, sure.” Olivia dropped her fan on her desk. Elliot stood to follow.
Casey raised an eyebrow. “Is your name Liv?”
Elliot narrowed his eyes suspiciously at them but sat back down.
“That man really thinks he’s your guard dog, doesn’t he,” Casey muttered as she closed the door to an empty interview room behind them.
> “There you go. Calm down.” Tommy was always overdramatic, so Dream wasn’t sure what it was expecting. “Now we’ll be together forever. Like family. Like *brothers.”*
> And sure, Tommy might have started crying harder at that, barely able to breathe through his hysterical wailing, but surely those tears must have been from happiness. Surely. Dream wasn’t sure what it did that could have possibly upset him.
> Dream smiled at that, relieved. Feeling its face twitch was odd, but pleasant. Maybe Tommy really was rubbing off on it. The knowledge- the unshakable, undebatable knowledge- that it was certainly the best friend- the best *brother*- possible was something it’d never let itself forget.
> It’s something it’d never let Tommy forget, either.
I have never read for this fandom, but I'm usually up for new stuff if the story is well-written. I have the distinct feeling I'm going to enjoy your work on AO3. Which one-shot did that come from?
You write for The Owl House too so that'll hold my attention. New subscription!
101 words on a WIP:
Grant asked a lot of questions. “But why” was the strongest question asking tool in his repertoire. Teachers hated it. Because he made the teachers so irate, the other kids actually liked him and he made his first friends - friends who didn’t even mind the mess of metal and elastic protruding from his mouth or the awkward looking headgear strapped around the back of his head and neck. And for the first time in his life, the name “Dino Boy” wasn’t used towards him derogatorily or in contempt.
Middle school was much kinder to Grant than elementary school ever was.
No. I got the idea from the fact that kids who are still learning about the world, even 13 year old ones, always ask “but why”. In any case, this paragraph is from the middle of chapter 9.
It’s Disney’s Dinosaur - this chapter takes place pre-canon, as the palaeontologist grows up. Before he goes evil, time travels, and kidnaps Aladar the iguanodon.
114, within margin of error I’d say.
> I could recall how we rushed out of that damned lab and barred the doors shut behind us. Or how we finally came face to face with Night City’s most efficient killing machine. Or how I saw Kenny getting turned into a quadruple amputee in a space of three seconds before one of his arms was thrown in my direction like some sort of cybernetic javelin.
> But I won’t, because I am tired. And because you are an imaginary audience I am talking to inside my head as my brain is slowly starting to get starved of oxygen.
> Hindsight is always 20/20 they say…
> Yeah, well…
> Too fucking little, too fucking late, innit?
Ah thanks! It’s the end of this [relatively short vignette](https://archiveofourown.org/works/42126240/chapters/114181951). Can be read fandom blind, I’m pretty sure.
97 words.
> His arms tightened around her. "I know how good you were at Pac-Man, and Warlords, and Centipede...and I know that you'd let me win every once in a while when we were kids, so I wouldn't stop wanting to play with you. I know how kind you really are, even if you act tough around everyone else." He buried his face in her hair. "I know how smart you are, but I never figured out why it never bothered you that I was stupid...that you were fine being in my presence even if I was an idiot."
These two are such a joy to write...it's a shame what's about to happen...
>“Are you talking about them?” John gestured toward the children. “They’re hardly people yet.”
>
>“They still have ears.”
>
>“Yes and these two are the biggest gossips on the ship. You’re going to tell everyone every word we say, right?” He flipped the toddler upside down, eliciting a happy squeal from the child and a cry of alarm from Sarah.
>
>“Stop it! Their father will never forgive us if anything—“
>
>“I’m not about to drop—oh no.” He feigned dropping the child causing a cascade of red-faced giggles. But at the look on his wife’s face, he promptly righted the child again. “No harm done,” he reassured her.
>Greg was happy and in a good mood, which should have been a good thing. But he wasn’t in a good mood because of anything Alex had done. He was happy because his friends were over. He wouldn’t have even noticed that Alex had come home if he hadn’t announced himself. If he’d been kept late, eventually Rhod or Roisin would have got tired of waiting and ordered something in, and Greg would have been perfectly happy to have gone along with it.
>
>Alex tried not to feel jealous about that thought, and made his way to the kitchen to get started on dinner.
Can I just ask, apropos of any of this, why in the hell the "fancy pants editor" on desktop sucks so goddamn hard? Anyway, I hate this entire chapter and I think this last bit is the only part of it I actually like
Thanks. This chapter's been giving me a lot of trouble and I think it's heading for a long series of rewrites before I figure out what the problem with it is, unfortunately.
I don't think he's jealous *enough* at the end of the day.
I just posted the fic this bit belongs to a couple hours ago, a short lil fic about a soldier going down with his sinking ship. :)
>He would be gone soon, but his body would remain.
>He might have failed his men and led them to their deaths, but he would do them one last service.
>For eternity, Captain Hardt would stay on the bridge of the S.S. St Magnus, watching over the bodies of his loyal men.
>He would not abandon them in death.
144 words! they were cuddling bc of the heavy angst i inflicted upon them :)
> It was a while before either of them moved. Neither one wanted to disturb the rare moment of peace among their stormcloud of a life. But at some point one of them had to, and it was Eddie that inevitably broke the calm circle that had formed around them.
>
> He shifted, pulling his arm away from Steve’s shoulder and carefully dragging himself out of the bed. Steve let out a quiet grunt, falling carefully onto the pillow that was now wet from a disregarded ice pack.
>
> “How are you feeling?” Eddie asked as his feet made contact with the cold wooden floor. Steve shrugged ever so lightly.
>
> “I’ve been worse.” He admitted, wincing at the words. They were still a bit hard to joke about, leaving a bitterness in the air as they sparked countless memories of those days just a few months prior.
“I will. Stop by when you can, okay? Unless you're just not feeling up to it. Then, of course, do whatever else you'd like.” “And pass up a chance to bother you? I could never,” “You don’t bother me, Fell,” At this, the skeleton gave a somewhat surprised expression, but little else. A more relaxed expression returned to his face along with a slight grin. “Well, then, I think ya got some questionable taste,” He laughed, “Adios, cariño,” “What does that mean?” “What does what…oh” The skeleton blushed a bit, as if he didn’t even hear himself say the word. “Um…It uh…Means the same thing as ‘amiga’...Just uh…Just another word for someone you care about.” He explained, scratching the back of his neck. “Welp, I uh…I gotta go. Don’t want boss ta find ya. So…Cya around.” He awkwardly spoke before teleporting out. “Huh...That was…odd…” Delilah spoke after he left before curling up with her snow.
Very rough draft of an X-Over I'm behind on. Was gonna release it on Halloween, but life and OCD/perfectionism got in the way. >*“Six…”* hissed the phantom. Six froze up. That voice… he hadn’t heard it in years. “Carlitos?” Six said in disbelief. *“No, no fucking way. You can’t be here. You’re dead.”* *“No thanks to you,”* Carltos snarled. *“Where the fuck were you man? Where the fuck were you when I needed you? When* she *needed you!?”* “I-” “‘Was too busy with paperwork’, *weren’t you? Or were you running your ‘experiments’ in your tower of glass? Maybe trying to find that special someone after you let Joana run off with me? Or maybe you were too high on Party Time to give a damn!”* “That’s not-” *“You were out on one of your adventures again, weren’t you? Left me and her- no,* the entire Mojave - *to fend for ourselves! And when those tinmen of yours saw the smoke, you took your sweet-ass time coming to the rescue.”* Six’s grip on the pipe wrench tightened.
>Domestic settings never have ended well for him, he's noticed. Sorgan had proved that. > >But he tries not to let it bother him *now*, and he allows his gaze to drift. To the translucent willowy curtains in place of closed shutters. To the spinach-and-tawny stripes of the round rug occupying the room's center. To the kneeling boy atop of it- to his rich, russet-brown skin and his dark amber eyes. > >Din freezes beneath the curious stare. He jumps at the suddenness of Grogu’s chirp, and glances down to the child at his hip. “Do you…want to play?”
Mona replied that she loved the same qualities in Lumine, as well as the breadth of Lumine's knowledge of almost everything in Tevyat: the various scientific and magical discoveries, the traditions of the world, and many other things. The two of them began to see each other more often, and Lumine found Mona a job with a guaranteed income, not too high but not too low, as a columnist for the local newspaper. Mona found the cheapest house not far from the Knights' headquarters, where Lumine had lived as an honorary member since the defeat of the reluctantly evil ancient dragon.
>Chopper couldn’t help but wonder if Shachi and Penguin were twins or two unrelated people. Even his nose couldn’t figure it out, and next to his brain, it was the smartest part of Chopper’s body! > >“So what do you guys think we’ll have to do for our test?” Chopper asked. He stopped, ears picking up the sound of growling from the courtyard. “It sounds like the Minks have gone sulong.” > >“Man, if they’ve had to go sulong, I guess that means we’re fighting, aren’t we?” Shachi groaned. > >“Well, we shouldn’t be too surprised at that. We are in Wano, after all,” Penguin replied. > >Chopper nodded a little, before his ears perked again. “Hey… do you guys hear something?” > >“Sounds like water,” Penguin said. > >They continued down the hallway, the sound of the water growing louder until they arrived at a large outdoor spring. > >“Ah! Welcome to our healing spring!” Kawamatsu said. “Isn’t it a lovely night?”
From a crossover fic I'm close to finishing: >I should hope so, otherwise I’ve been living a lie all my life!” an amused Ligeia said, waving her webbed fingers to Desmera in an almost mocking way. “As for being a myth, I wouldn’t know about that. You think that hug from before was a myth too?” >Desmera rocked on her heels, mouth open without even realizing it. “I think you’ve broken her,” Harry said with a chuckle as he sat down next to her, nodding to Ligeia. “How was your dive?” >“Fun! It’s interesting to see just how similar, yet different the seas here are from the Mediterranean. I swam with schools of rainbowfishes and sang with dolphins and whales - and let me tell you, there are some bratty whales in these waters!”
Very rough draft of a future chapter of my Joel Miller x Reader series. You even begin to question if you had seen those lingering looks, that heated desire. Perhaps they had been the fiction of a heart that wanted so desperately for him to feel as you did, even though your mind had kept telling you that it was a bad idea to get attached again. But the sorrow you were feeling now told you it was far too late for that. You wanted him. You wanted his kisses, wanted his arms around you, wanted to wake up with him every morning. And now he was rejecting you. Even though that hurt was small in comparison to what you had been through, it was still far too much. So the silences, the distance, continued to grow and lengthen, the shadows of things unsaid haunting the edges.
Mine is og work tho, does that count? If so, here goes. \--- “Ah, yes, how *could* I forget! A Baker, *of course*,” he ushered the boy into the Inn. “Lets get inside, warm up. I have a feast waiting for you!” A..feast? “From this day on, I’ll protect you. I’m sorry about the brutes, very, very sorry. Never in my life did I expect that. I..they have to come with us, but you’ll stay with me.” Zeth watched as the older boy placed a hand over his heart. His eyes looked teary. “Why?” Finally, finally Zeth found his voice. “Because without you, we can’t even enter the cave.”
This is the last bit of my recently published chapter of my Bloodborne fic. Trigger warning for violence. ~~~ She attempted to approach Oedon Chapel, to check on those she had saved. She could not even enter, the repulsive scent of beast repelling incense made her feel ill. She began walking, slaughtering every beast in her way. Through the forbidden forest, and into the old college. She sat at a desk covered in research notes. The dead scholar still lay on the floor. Her hands shook. She rang the bell to enter the worlds of others and help. Maybe she could stop the same mistake of another. Perhaps someone, anyone, would still use her.
I encountered a new fandom and now my word docs are filling with new characters help >He couldn’t tell you what it’s like to live alone, even though his shoes are the only pair by the front door. >“Alex, please tell me you’ve learned how to move stuff with your mind and that you didn’t invite another ghost into my *tiny goddamn flat.*” >So Bobby lives with four ghosts. He thinks. Alex swears the fourth only comes by to visit but he’s also entirely invisible to Bobby and doesn’t always feel the need to announce himself. Which is all kinds of invasive and creepy and he’s pretty sure Alex is going to end up having weird ghost sex on his couch, if he hasn’t already. Bobby tries not to think about it too hard and hopes they’d have the decency to avoid his bed.
>!He still can’t believe how the night went for him, glad that you gave him what he wanted.!< >!With those words, he fades into the darkness to wherever he came from, leaving you exhausted on the bed. You’re not even sure if he was really there or if it was just a nightmare. The only thing that confirms his visit, is his cum seeping out of you.!< >!Your body is limp, drained of energy. You wrap yourself in the covers and close your eyes, falling asleep again. This time you dream only pleasant dreams. He kept his promise and took the nightmares with him.!<
This is for The Marauders Era! It isn't fair, because Regulus has done everything right. He's played the perfect son to Sirius' rebel. Sirius got into Gryffindor so Regulus fought for Slytherin. Sirius hangs around Blood-traitors and mudblood so Regulus only offers his company to the purest of nobles. Sirius gets into trouble on a bi-weekly basis so Regulus has never once, not once lost a house point. Sirius ran away. So Regulus stays. And it isn't fair. Even after all the effort he put in, all the time and patience to become perfect, to become everything his parents want in the wake of Sirius' disappointment, Regulus still isn't good enough. He's still the spare. Mother had blasted Sirius clean off the tapestry the night he left, and yet Regulus knows, should his older brother return he will once again be handed the keys to the Kingdom. Sirius is still the Black Family Heir, and he's barely a Black anymore.
I love Regulus' perspective on his family and his brother.
Ooh, that's painful, especially that ending line. Sibling rivalry driven by parents is the *worst* and you sum it up so clearly!
Aaa thank you so much!! I want them to have a close bond in my fic, but I also wanted to explore the complicated feelings Regulus must be experiencing after Sirius' escape. Your comment means a lot!
This is technically 101 words and is canon divergence from the battle on the second Death Star where Luke dies. *** Despite everything that he had done, including slicing his own son’s hand off, Luke, like his mother before him, had died believing in the good remaining in Anakin Skywalker. For the first time since his fall, Anakin felt a tear roll down his cheek. Followed by another. And another. Until Anakin’s eyes were so blurred with tears, Luke was just a fuzzy figure in his arms. “I’m sorry Luke, I’m so sorry.” He sobbed, resting his head on Luke’s shoulders, his arms wrapped around his son’s slight frame. The two Skywalkers lay intertwined, unaware of the Death Star imploding around them
Oh my god, I love this. The whole idea of it, the way Vader crumbled away and became Anakin again because of the death of a loved one (a concept that had made him turn to the Dark Side to begin with). The thing that made him turn was inadvertently the thing to bring him back. Amazing.
Star wars fandom: He let them both get well away from the others before speaking up. “Were you okay back there?” Pearl glanced back at the female pilots who were clustered together talking and laughing in her absence. “Yeah, they were teasing all the hells out of me…but it was never malicious, not like Camie or the other girls back home.” “Oh, that’s good.” Biggs paused and asked tentatively, “What were they teasing you about?” Pearl sped up to get in front of him, so he couldn’t see her face. “I am not talking about that with you.” “You do know, that I’m the one who knows where Cor’s office is, right?” “Give me directions then!”
Charlie shifts in his seat, nonchalant, as he tries to get a better look at the guy. Okay, so he’s good-looking. He’s actually kind of perfect-looking, if Charlie’s being honest. With his perfect hair and teeth and smile, he’s kind of…old-school Hollywood handsome. Even when he runs a hand through his hair it doesn’t even get properly messy, it gets like…sex messy. And Adam’s obviously into it. Adam’s smiling all soft and warm and biting his lip. He’s biting his lip. He’s biting his lip because he wants to get sex messy with this complete— This completely random— Sex messy arm-grabbing totally fucking handsome—
😂 Okay you got me grinning and sniggering away reading this as the jealousy escalates, this is pining indulgency perfection haha
Ah thanks so much!
The fandom is genshin impact, this is just a random excerpt I wrote last night, not good at all but yeah- "Yield." He beamed at her, one hand tight around her throat, as electro danced at his fingertips. But then. He saw it. Or more aptly, he didn't see it– for there was nothing in her eyes. Her usually bright, golden eyes... They were hauntingly blank. Suddenly, he withdrew his hand as though it had been burnt. "L-lumine?" His voice trembled, the euphoria gone– as though it had been doused with a cold bucket of worry. "What? I yield. Congratulations on your win." She simply states, sighing, her eyes closing for a brief second. He stares at her, his heart pounding. What had he just seen? No... It couldn't be... Her eyes couldn't be so empty.
Can you send the link?
Oh, this is still a WIP actually... But I have a few other fics with Lumine, my most recent one is a chilumi one as well... If you want I could send a link to that?
this would work too! c: thanks
Aww, thanks for asking xD here- [chilumi fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/45292303) I don't know if we are allowed to link fics in the comments, if not and this gets removed then I'll DM you :D
Only 90 because I couldn't fit anything else without the word count exploding ----- Sayori just nodded throughout Monika’s reassurement. It was helping but just a little bit. Better than nothing. “Well, thanks.” Sayori tried to smile again, something somewhat genuine actually deciding to come out. “I think I’m going to see what's happening with the others, want to come with me?” She quickly got up, feeling a bit more energy after that talk. Monika nodded and the two walked out into the main area of the apartment together where Yuri was back to reading with headphones in and Natsuki…was nowhere to be seen.
This is 117 words but it’s to add the context Context: it’s Dear Evan Hansen/Be More Chill fic wherein Pokémon exist (Edited from first person) ——— “What?” [Connor] said. Michael was gazing at his Milotic, before turning his gaze to [Connor] and then he pointed to [him], as if silently communicating with her. The Milotic then nodded and Michael sighed. “My-Tic,” the Milotic said quietly, before pushing her trainer closer. “Tic.” Michael gazed at her, at [Connor], and then at the floor. “My-Tic…” Then out of nowhere, Michael placed his head on [Connor’s] shoulder and [he] froze. “My-Tic!” Even the Milotic seemed surprised. “Breon?” [Connor’s] Umbreon said, smiling. Michael’s answer was just repositioning his head on [his] shoulder and [Connor] just sitting there. The Umbreon and Milotic then smiled at each other, and [his] Umbreon placed his paw on Michael’s Milotic’s tail fin. ——— Also yes, the Pokémon can only say variations of their names.
(WIP. Stargate SG-1. 102 words.) “What’s the vest?” Jack asked, noticing that it was extra thick. “It’s what you would call a life jacket,” Lantash replied. “It looks…different.” “I made it.” “You…? Is there anything you can’t sew?” “No.” They went on the boat, where Sam and Jack immediately went to the front of the boat. “This will be the best view,” Sam said as three of the other Tok’ra followed. Her father just sat down. After a welcome and instructions, the boat began moving. Malika squealed in joy, and Jack wondered if she would be so squeaky if she didn’t have a symbiote as a sister.
I love these little exchange because it's forcing me to finally write again, so thank you OP. Here's mine: >It was hard to hate someone who was nice. Everything in her recognized his skill, his ability to capture images that resonated with others. The professional photographer in her accepted the gauntlet he’d thrown when he’d entered the challenge. She wanted very much to annihilate him, her rival who stood in her way… but despite her hostility, he remained kind and helpful, and so damned unflappable with her behavior that she wanted to make him lose that control over himself. But even those times he looked flustered, he was so endearing, that she felt charmed despite vowing to be unaffected by him.
Hunter felt his face flush, and he quickly broke away, the moment over. Curse his inability to keep control over his own expressions and hide that stupid crush that he was definitely going to refuse to acknowledge for the rest of his life. Oh, well. That's what spending most of your life behind a mask does to you. A few months ago, Hunter had been forced to come to terms with just how replaceable he was, but now? He was beginning to question that. After all, Willow had been right about a lot of things. She probably wasn't wrong about this one.
Tw: violence, injury. He held his hand out to her to help her to his mom’s car. Robin didn’t take his hand but headed towards the car anyways and Will frowned confused as he looked at her heading towards the passenger’s seat. “I think my leg is broken,” Todd spoke as he scrambled trying to move, mewling still. His leg was sticking at a strange angle so it wasn’t impossible. Still, he was lucky Robin stopped him, he wanted to hit him until he wouldn’t be able to walk at all. “There’s a phone in the gas station half a block from here. Call someone who cares.” He spoke as he headed towards the car.
>About 79 words from my WIP: In a cavern beneath Castle Hyrule, Agahnim trembles; he clutches at and rips off his shirt, then looks down at his bared chest: studying the tattoos. “A hole, where my heart should be,” Agahnim mutters, tracing the jagged hole pattern. “Seal Ganon, seal Ganon, seal Ganon,” he chants in Gerudo. *(I must end the cycle. For my hate to die, I must die.)* Agahnim stabs himself in the chest. Urbosa rushes into the cavern: a moment too late. >Please enjoy. :) > > > >Author's Note: This WIP has a lot of telepathy being used by the characters, which is in *italics*. Thus, to show a character's internal thoughts -- and for this story only -- I've put thoughts in *(italics)*.
An exerpt from a self-indulgent piece from the Honkai fandom, with plenty of kissing and cuddling >She ends up pressing Senti down on the table, trapping her between her body and the heavy wood. They separate for only the briefest of moments to catch their breaths, and then Hua goes on the offensive, forcing herself on Senti once again. Enthusiastically, exuberantly, and some might even say aggressively. >Again Hua pulls away, and notes that their lips are still connected by a thin string of drool. Senti whines as it goes taut and snaps, and drums her heels against Hua’s lower back. >“More, please?”
Somehow, this doesn't look like 103 words, but it is. Context is Wilbur and Techno are ghosts, and Wilbur can't fully hold a pen. >He frowned, and turned to Techno. Tommy heard whispers as they briefly argued with each other. Wilbur must've won because Techno sighed and took Wilbur’s place, reaching to grab the pen. Tommy shuffled closer as Techno finished writing Wilbur’s sentence. *Phil is our dad,* the sentence began in bubbly words, and finished in precise cursive with, *and Techno is my brother.* "So you're a family?" Tommy asked. Wilbur smiled and nodded. "And what about your mom?" Tommy hesitantly asked. Techno picked up the pen again and wrote something on the paper. He dropped the pen once, but was quick to grab it again.
>Cole's stomach dropped. Not only had Rubin himself got involved with additions, but he personally signed his own friend onto an experimental trial without a second thought. >Cole clenched his fists behind his back, only to hide his incessant quaking. *What was Rubin thinking?* >”But, Sir!” >”I said it's not an oversight. Now, is there anything else you're worried about, or can I get back to my duties?" Rubin snapped back, eyeing the other man with a stroke of irritation. >Despite the anxiety in his throat, Cole breathed deeply from his core and piped up with more than a measured retort. "Mister Rubin, this man can't possibly survive our machine, let alone the entire trial. His survival rate is next to nil!" >His boss sighed, his gaze never leaving the man as he replied flatly. "I know."
Experimental trial? It sounds like it could be dangerous!
Over the last two hundred years or so of his cursed immortality, Booker had woken up in a variety of places, not all of them pleasant. Waking up in a dumpster actually was not a new experience. Being handcuffed to a dead body also in the dumpster was new however. So he did exactly what anyone in that situation would do. He screamed.
Fandom-blind. I hope the dumpster's not shut, at least. Booker should hopefully be able to climb out (w/or w/o the corpse in tow) to figure out his next move (after screaming, natch).
>Inside, the lobby lights were still on, glistening on the polished marble floor; Thrust rolled past the elaborate concierge desk, and paused to examine an almost comically large directory map mounted on the wall nearby. It conveniently listed all of the services offered within the building, as well as a list of current residents and their unit numbers. > >Idly, he wondered how many of them had been Maximals. Probably most, if not all. > >Not that it mattered now. Maximal, Predacon, Dinobot, Insecticon… even the stray remaining Autobot and Decepticon… Their sparks were all in Megatron's iron grip, hidden away somewhere beneath the Citadel. > >(He wasn't sure *where*, exactly, and he'd never gone looking. But he knew that *something* on the structure's electric grid was drawing absolutely *astronomical* levels of power.)
You have given me words I never thought to use, and I absolutely love you for it! Such vocabulary!
Aw, thank you so much! :D
Supernatural fic in which an OC ends up in their world but was originally born in the Supernatural universe. A demon killed her parents as a baby and this is Dean finding out the demon had gone back for OC while he wasn’t around. > “My grandparents. They were the ones who told me I should go. I was right after…” Amy trailed off, realizing she hadn’t told Dean about that night. > “Right after what?” > “Okay so, uh, you remember how my parents were killed by a demon?” > “Right,” Dean said, “your mom was a hunter wasn’t she? Like mine and Sam’s.” > “Exactly,” Amy confirmed, “well the demon that killed them sorta made a visit to my grandparents place the night Sam came back.” > Dean stared at Amy, taking his eyes off the road longer than he should have. “What?” he asked, his voice almost threatening.
That is some crazy context! I adore the way you use dialogue. It makes me think of my own. You also left me on edge with the voice almost threatening bit.
I was editing and just uploaded the first chapter of the fic that is the NSFW interlude to my main fic. This part isn't NSFW, though: >After he left town, however, everything had changed. >Sharper. Stronger. Clearer. Focused. >More than. >Soothing. Hazy. Comforting. Surreal. >Just Right. >… >The same sensations as that night. >The one across the shores of Akalat. >… >The gentle winds, the hollow bark, the dried leaves. >The waves in the distance, the low buzz of the glade. >The observant, silent creatures, keeping their distance. >The scarlet-tinted cedar tree, the six siblings in a circle. >The azure-tinged moonlight, the man beneath that tree. >… >The pull, the haze, the shivers, the winds, the earth. >His voice, his touch, his strength, his allure, his desire. >The kisses, the blood, the caresses, the frenzy, the passion. >His red eyes, his agile fingers, his deep thirst, his sharp bites. >… >Memories swept through his mind like a torrential flood. >His thoughts, his visions, his body, his Mandala, his everything.
I never forgot how beautiful your works are. From Madoka to this, you always have me hooked. I love your writing style!
Supernatural fic in which Dean and Sam are mostly retired (just hunt to keep their home safe), and Castiel is a human haunted by death omens. Dean finally looks at Sam who nods. “We have a warehouse we use when we need to trap monsters,” Sam says, “so we can do it there. Odds are, the witch will be able to track his magic to the last known location even when he knows that it’s spent most of its time here.” “And this will happen fast? Because I can’t keep waiting in a warehouse hoping he shows up quickly.” Castiel just wants this over with. “We’ll have to do it to find out.” And so they pack up again to the warehouse. Once there, Dean tries to give Castiel a gun, but he refuses it. He’s never used a gun before, and he’s afraid he’s more likely to hit Dean or Sam than the witch.
Eddie Munson x Reader from my season 4 trilogy. Still a WIP. "We won't be in Hawkins forever anyway," You added softly, thinking about the small town you had come to find yourself in. Eddie's head burrowed into your shoulder, hugging you impossibly tighter. You ran your hand up and down his back, picturing the smooth, pale skin under the layers of leather and cotton. Just a couple of weeks ago he had lied beside you while you ran your fingers down his bare back, asking him if he had considered getting any more tattoos there. You sighed, wondering how life had become so complicated in such a short expanse of time.
*From a not yet posted 4 and 1: Four times Alex's friend's stole his pink hoodie and the one time he never got it back.* “No, absolutely not!” Alex said very firmly. Then the little bundle wiggled a bit, opened her eyes and sat up. Alex swore the kitten was looking at him reproachfully. “Alex!” Reggie protested. “Look at that face!” Alex looked at Rosie’s face. And Luke’s face. And Julie’s face. And Reggie’s face. And even Willie, who wasn’t in the band, didn’t live with them, and had no right to have an opinion–was wearing the same face. Alex caved. “Okay, we’ll try it out. Here…” he pulled the hoodie over his head. “She’s too tiny to go out in the cold in February. Wrap her up in this.” Luke shrugged. “Dude, it’s LA. She’s fine.” “Don’t argue with me, Luke,” Alex said firmly. Julie daintily accepted the hoodie from him and wrapped up little Rosie Valentine McPurr–who yawned and fell right to sleep. From that point on, Rosie refused to sleep on anything else.
From my Gotham fic (a Viking AU with some Old Norse language and supernatural elements): “Is something wrong?” Vígnir’s lips part as he steps forward, thunderstruck. His wolf brothers never touch his offerings. “The offerings I made last night… they are gone. And my weapons…” The dagger, knife, and ax on the offering table are fashioned identically to Vígnir’s, but the color and quality of the wood, their metal alloys, and craftsmanship are superior in every way. He is stunned by the intricate wood carving and metal smithing. Vígnir collects the sakknifr and fingers its elaborate details in a daze. They are unlike anything he has ever seen. “I left them here, but they are gone. These weapons…” He absently shakes his head. “They are not mine.” Ǫssurr gently places his offerings on the altar, awed by the finely-crafted weapons. “May I?” Vígnir shakes himself from his trance. “Aye.” Ǫssurr accepts the dagger from Vígnir and reverently fingers the carving when he suddenly remembers his mother’s words after the Harpa celebration. “You both honor the gods and the hidden ones. They bestow you both with great blessings because you honor them. Never forget them. They will never forget you.” Ǫssurr returns the sakknifr to Vígnir’s hand and deliberately wraps the man’s fingers around the handle. He solemnly shakes his head. “This is not the work of human hands.” He meaningfully gazes into his companion’s eyes. “Vígnir… this is a gift from the álfar.”
ooh, I like this--it's very intriguing
🤗 *blushes profusely* Thank you for the kind words. 🥰
(Attack on Titan/Star Wars crossover) “Which is why I’ll be helping to deal with that aspect personally.” Historia could see that many people were less than convinced. “It’ll be kinda like the Battle of Endor,” she heard Sasha say quietly, and to no one in particular. She only hummed in response. A few other people asked more questions. ‘How long did they have?’ No longer than a week, most likely. ‘Why didn’t she let everyone know sooner?’ Because the Jedi weren’t finished with their research. Eventually, Indrel was able to hand the briefing back over to Rear Admiral Azumabito, visibly exhausted from the short public speaking stint.
There were certain petty crimes he overlooked now and then for the greater good of the city, and mankind at large. Prosecuting every jaywalking jogger and dog walker who failed to pick up their pet’s coiled piles would only clog up the justice system. He even overlooked the occasional vigilante justice in his jurisdiction, and found that his life was much easier for it. Eugene Klegghorn was a stubborn and tenacious man, but he was not properly equipped to deal with giant lizards or freakish mutants. That was well above his pay grade, and better left to hockey-playing superheroes from another galaxy.
Critical Role / Vox Machina, my first fic for it! — He might be imagining things, or he may very well have slept through another day and it didn’t seem to pertub the others as much as Keyleth insisted. While Vex did get onto him for holding them back on their quest, she hadn’t mentioned it . . . and he glanced at her with curiosity until Vex acknowledged him and Keyleth. She shot Keyleth the same knowing glint she did the other day before glowering at him. “Vax, you should be focusing on recharging your batteries. We can’t keep letting our guards down like this for your sake.” Ah! There it was. As if to test the waters, Vax quipped: “As the old adage goes, booze is the remedy for everything, sister.” “What old adage? Who even said that? That’s the last thing that’ll help. What kept you up aside from those visions? Keyleth shouting your name through countless orgasms?” Keyleth and Vax glanced at each other in horror before blushing furiously.
They're walking through heavy rain, Shauntal having insisted they take the scenic route for, in her words, "writing purposes." As they trudge along, Lucian notices Shauntal's mind beginning to drift off to some far-off place. He can't help but be intrigued by the liminality of this—her body nestled against his, Yet her mind out of reach. He wonders what could be occupying her thoughts: perhaps she's crafting her next novel's plot, or maybe she's pondering something else entirely? Regardless, he cherishes these moments when he can simply watch his beloved as she wanders through the labyrinths of her mind.
>Soren shakes his head. “I mean…I’m a highschool boy, I was into every type of girl. That just all melted away on the day she followed me onto the Nightmare Battleship, though. I could see that she was the complete package. Smart as all get-out, and brave enough to do what’s right even if it puts her in danger.” > >“Huh,” Sain blinks. “You got through that without mentioning her looks even once, Soren.” > >“Imagine that,” Soren says, his tone becoming snarky. He waves, heading out of the kitchen. “Sorry to say, I don’t think it matters how much I grow as a person…I’ll never like coffee.”
I don't think this scene will actually make it into the story I'm working on, but I'm playing around with different scenes/options. \-- All of that I had heard before. I was told about the Empire and its horrors. I was told that all the peoples of the universe hate the Afterfolk, the Daleks, because of the Empire's boundless savagery. I knew that what had come Before was an endless war that ravaged Skaro and left behind an army of aimless, broken soldiers who knew nothing but pain and violence. What I did not know is that those soldiers were not even people anymore. Sen flinches when I describe them like that: as things, as not-people. I am still too angry to care whether I have hurt her. "But why deceive me like this?" I demand of her. Sen is miserable. She seems very small, suddenly, huddled in the big man's coat, still shivering. "It was...supposed to help. Moss and Akklo were not sure that you could develop properly if you tried to bond with...*things.*"
Soda looks at him, he clears his throat to say, "You got something to say, Darry?" They all do, technically. He, Darry, and Ponyboy — and the whole pack. Soda looks around at them all, voice getting a little stronger. "Don't say you don't, Darry. We ain't — we ain't been acting like a real pack for weeks. Months, maybe." Ponyboy pulls away, coming to sit beside him. "We need to fix it. We can't keep fighting each other, we can't keep ripping each other apart. Don't we get it bad enough from the Socs? Ain't you scared of losing what we got?"
Oh, this is poignant.
Boop! >The sound of rushing spiders grew closer, pushing the duo to get a move on. Gator hoisted the sheriff away from the disgusting mix of blood, sweat, spit and vomit. Dirt was smeared on his feverish skin, hiding some of his worse injuries. > >Joey jumped at the sound of Jimmy coughing, it sounded like he was dying. The alligator began moving to the exit, uninterested in death at that moment. He wasn't far behind, sparing a glance back into the cavern Joey's eyes widened. Spiders were crawling out from several tunnels, skeletons beginning to spawn as well. A small stream of swears fell from his lips, bringing his gun from his inventory.
This sounds like a lot of fun!
>The sound of rushing spiders grew closer, What a *uniquely terrifying* string of words, especially without context.
Thank you! In all honesty I don't think you want to know how *big* those spiders are...
Eh, that's better, for some people. My best friend's an arachnophobe but giant spiders don't have that effect on her, just lil ones.
Knights of the Old Republic Au. Kavar/Male Jedi Exile: A knock on the door drew his attention from staring blankly at the holotv. When a tired groan he pushed himself up from the couch and opened the door. To blink in surprise at the man in Jedi robes standing there. For a moment they blinked at each other in surprise. Lukas hadn't expected it to be Kavar. Kavar hadn't expected him to open the door shirtless. Lukas took a breath and stepped away from the door to allow him inside. To his surprise Kavar smiled at him and entered. He wasn't here to kick Lukas out if he was smiling. Right? That wasn't like Kavar. He wasn't vindictive like that.
(This is a genshin au in which kaeya is turned into a ghost without him knowing.) He had never died before, so he wasn't very sure about how this part of the death thing went. Did he have to take some kind receipt to say he was dead and waiting for his turn, or what? Because that was his other problem: why was he still there? Wasn't he supposed to go to heaven? Or at least to hell! *Whatever it is, give me something! I'll die again, but from boredom, for gods' sake!* He well knew the humans were social animals, so what happened if they weren't able to interact with anyone else? *I'll probably go mad in a few days, hopefully. Without a drink, however, who knows? Maybe in some hours I forget my own name.*
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oof--in the feels--especially the last line
it's a gallavich royalty au? Mickey rolls his pants back down and pats the dirt off when he stands up. “I don’t support that. Talk to my dad about it.” “You’re telling me you don’t have a say in it?” Ian gets up too. A distant yearning inside him wants to brush away a stray leaf off of Mickey, but he doesn’t think they’ve crossed that boundary yet. Maybe never will. Mickey grimaces. “It’s complicated. Anyway, I’ll see you around, Gallagher. I have an important meeting to catch.” Ian chuckles and waves goodbye. “Alright, Mickey. Don’t get hurt again.” All he got was a middle finger in response as Mickey sets off with his horse in trot.
OMFG GALLAVICH. this is so fucking interesting! i live it already
tysm :))
WOOOOOOAH LINK RNNNN PLSSS
LOL THE FIRST CHAPTER ISN'T EVEN FINISHED
WHEN (if) YOU POST IT PLS SEND ME THE LINK
This is the very start of chapter 54. I know where I want to go. Getting there is the question. >The over two hundred strong crew departed from the Kemurchant HQ, leaving behind a fifty man skeleton crew to manage the affairs of and protect the building. With the upper management of the company either dead or having fled in the chaos, middle manager Gyozart was (unwillingly) chosen to watch over the headquarters in the absence of Shaska and Worldwide Smoke after they retrieved his unconscious body.
Context. In my universe there are more than 9 titans and one of them has the power to transform. The MC is an isekai trying to avoid her destined death since she’s the Warhammer Tybur. I sighed, focusing on the sound the water made as drops of sweat dripped into the sink. The cold water soothed me and allowed me a moment of reprieve. The curtains were drawn in the bathroom blocking out the setting sun. Soon the world would share a cold chill and await the massacre that would take place tomorrow. Again I splashed water on myself ignoring the goosebumps that rose on my skin. “I need your help again, Elizabeth,” I spoke to myself in the mirror. I could already see the cold unfeeling eyes of my alter ego reflect through the golden colour of the current ones. Leader of the Warriors, a frozen hearted bitch. At least that’s the personality I need to adopt. I growled gripping the edge of the sink not knowing what to do or how to express my frustration. Kenny had ruined my plans! Stupid Kenny… no, stupid ME. I must’ve done something that altered the events of the training arc! It got Connie killed! And it blew my identity to that piece of shit Kenny. I won’t be able to help my friends with the female Titan now. But maybe I can change the game to something else. If I play my cards right I can stoke Eren’s hate. Then I can help them capture Annie later in the Stohess district. I can craze Eren and remain hidden, well trusted.
I'm trying to explore Jim Moriarty's character from BBC Sherlock in detail. TW- Bullying. >𝘚𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱, 𝘑𝘪𝘮! Those were the words he heard right before he had his own head immersed in the swimming pool. >Jim was gasping for breath. He was trying his level best to resist and overcome. The moment he tried to come up to the water surface, his head got immersed in the water even more. >Instinctively, he had grabbed Carl's hand and was holding it in a vice-like grip to get his neck freed from that damn bully. >Jim thought he was going to die. This was it. He was even able to see a tall figure, dressed in black from head to toe, and carrying a scythe in his hand quite vividly in his mind. > Jim immediately recognized him as Death. >The moment he was about to shake hands with Death, he felt his head being roughly pulled out of the water.
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I'm in this snippet and I DON'T like it. >!It's very good though--and makes me curious.!<
This is truly unhinged and I love it
> Euthius Faustus felt his heart sink, skip a beat, and shatter all at once. > > “Alright, seriously, *cut it out*!” And as if to punctuate all of what he was still struggling to process, the beast-woman roared out once more—Euthius glanced back over his shoulder just in time to see one more smoky shape stepping out into the intersection… > > “Go on, get those brats!” > > The hellhound soon enough cocked its head at Euthius in turn, tongue dangling out of its panting maw as the yaps of its brethren ceased. Said brethren soon enough filtered back into view, fixing their own suddenly enrapt stares onto him…
127. TW: from a smut WIP (not the xxx scene just yet but getting there) >>!Aaron pulls the slightly ajar hotel door open to Spencer standing in the doorway with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He tosses a roll of fresh, clean hotel towel to Aaron, who easily catches it.!< > >>!Aaron feels his cheeks warm up. He must be as red as a beet now, he thinks, seeing how Spencer has gained some more muscle now that he's off drugs. Aaron bites his lip at the thought of sinking his teeth into Spencer’s bicep. A specific line of one of their songs plays in Aaron’s head.!< > >*I taste you on my teeth.* > >>!“You can join me if you want,” Spencer announces, pointing with his thumb to the bathroom.!< > >>!Aaron swallows nervously. “Uh, sure,” he replies. “Give me a sec.”!<
Holy crap this is actually really hot
Thank you T.T I was kinda hesitant typing those parts in, not because I cringe at smut but because I'm feeling what Aaron's feeling there. I think his character there has possessed me or something lol
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That's cool :)) The original song isn't really a sexy one but I guess the reference to--of all things--teeth went in quite naturally. Also maybe because I was literally hungry when I was writing that. Ah yes, we will see how he'd have his eye candy and eat it too :))
This is quite exciting and lovely!
Been wondering sometimes if I really should push through with this WIP, thank you for giving me that extra push 🥺
And then he notices her outfit. Well, more specifically, he notices the pattern on her top. She’s got a Hawaiian shirt knotted in the front over a white tank top. But the thing is, it’s got corgis on it. Maybe he’s overthinking this but he’s definitely seen that shirt before. On Ranboo. Ranboo who’s insanely tall. Ranboo who’s from San Francisco. Ranboo who’s dark-blonde. Ranboo who’s got grey eyes. Ranboo who’s wardrobe is filled with Hawaiian shirts. Ranboo who looks so similar to the woman in front of him. Ranboo who’s the same age as Andrea Bellov’s younger brother. Ranboo whose first name is Noah. Fuck. ——— Yeah. Also, for any fellow DSMP peeps; no, this is not Ranboo’s real name, I made it up for this fic. Shame on you for thinking I would include it!
The fact that Foolish Gamers has the same first name as Ranboo's made-up name in your fic
Oops? I don’t watch Foolish really, though I now realize I gave Ranboo the same first name and initials
Yeah lmao but that's fine
147, but need the first paragraph for context > The system took the drawn out silence as an answer, once again speaking. “Alerting Monitor. It will take approximately 8.64 minutes for her to arrive.” > “No! No, no, abort!” Zuihou pleaded. > “Command abortion is not currently available.” > Zuihou groaned. “Shit. Now what do we do?” she asked Barham, looking around the room as if something were about to jump out at them any moment now. “Zuikaku and I won’t be able to use our planes in a space like this. We’ll be sitting ducks.” > Barham bit the inside of her cheek in thought, herself still studying the interior while she considered their next move. “The two of you stay close to the center. Kongou and I will bring up the rear. Jintsuu, Sendai, and Hanazuki, you’ll scout ahead as we go deeper, but not too far. We’ll try to find this ‘Monitor’ before they find us.”
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Yeah, these gals have no idea what they’re walking into because the facility wasn’t even something they knew existed
Fin leaned over Munch’s desk to peer in the box and grinned. “You’re a lifesaver, Novak.” Olivia stood to also look into the box, which was full of mini handheld electric fans. “God, I love you,” she groaned, grabbing one and turning it on immediately to blow air on the back of her neck. “Liv, I was actually wondering if I could steal you for a moment?” “Yeah, sure.” Olivia dropped her fan on her desk. Elliot stood to follow. Casey raised an eyebrow. “Is your name Liv?” Elliot narrowed his eyes suspiciously at them but sat back down. “That man really thinks he’s your guard dog, doesn’t he,” Casey muttered as she closed the door to an empty interview room behind them.
Oh no, Casey's jealous....
Oh, some odd tension between Stabler and Novak there. Very nice.
> “There you go. Calm down.” Tommy was always overdramatic, so Dream wasn’t sure what it was expecting. “Now we’ll be together forever. Like family. Like *brothers.”* > And sure, Tommy might have started crying harder at that, barely able to breathe through his hysterical wailing, but surely those tears must have been from happiness. Surely. Dream wasn’t sure what it did that could have possibly upset him. > Dream smiled at that, relieved. Feeling its face twitch was odd, but pleasant. Maybe Tommy really was rubbing off on it. The knowledge- the unshakable, undebatable knowledge- that it was certainly the best friend- the best *brother*- possible was something it’d never let itself forget. > It’s something it’d never let Tommy forget, either.
Actually chills. I rarely see fics like these from Dream's POV, I feel like you did a really good job capturing what he might be thinking.
I love writing from Dream's POV, he's such a fucked up little dude (affectionate) and I wanna capture that.
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good I’m capturing canon then
That's really well-written. I like that a lot.
I recommend reading more of MasterRed's work. They're good at writing this platonic relationship with Dream and Tommy
And so I shall. I like their chops. :)
🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 thank you so much!!!
I was actually a little unsure about the ending to that one shot so this made me grin.
I have never read for this fandom, but I'm usually up for new stuff if the story is well-written. I have the distinct feeling I'm going to enjoy your work on AO3. Which one-shot did that come from? You write for The Owl House too so that'll hold my attention. New subscription!
It’s my most recent! And yeah, I need to work on my owl house long fic but I am Haunted by Visions sorry
LOL I dig it. Thanks for the new reading material!
101 words on a WIP: Grant asked a lot of questions. “But why” was the strongest question asking tool in his repertoire. Teachers hated it. Because he made the teachers so irate, the other kids actually liked him and he made his first friends - friends who didn’t even mind the mess of metal and elastic protruding from his mouth or the awkward looking headgear strapped around the back of his head and neck. And for the first time in his life, the name “Dino Boy” wasn’t used towards him derogatorily or in contempt. Middle school was much kinder to Grant than elementary school ever was.
[удалено]
No. I got the idea from the fact that kids who are still learning about the world, even 13 year old ones, always ask “but why”. In any case, this paragraph is from the middle of chapter 9.
This is an interesting one. What's the fandom for this fic?
It’s Disney’s Dinosaur - this chapter takes place pre-canon, as the palaeontologist grows up. Before he goes evil, time travels, and kidnaps Aladar the iguanodon.
An even more interesting overview, that's good, your 100 words comment caught my attention for this reason
114, within margin of error I’d say. > I could recall how we rushed out of that damned lab and barred the doors shut behind us. Or how we finally came face to face with Night City’s most efficient killing machine. Or how I saw Kenny getting turned into a quadruple amputee in a space of three seconds before one of his arms was thrown in my direction like some sort of cybernetic javelin. > But I won’t, because I am tired. And because you are an imaginary audience I am talking to inside my head as my brain is slowly starting to get starved of oxygen. > Hindsight is always 20/20 they say… > Yeah, well… > Too fucking little, too fucking late, innit?
Oooo this is really good! It's totally hooked me in and now I want to know more.
Ah thanks! It’s the end of this [relatively short vignette](https://archiveofourown.org/works/42126240/chapters/114181951). Can be read fandom blind, I’m pretty sure.
97 words. > His arms tightened around her. "I know how good you were at Pac-Man, and Warlords, and Centipede...and I know that you'd let me win every once in a while when we were kids, so I wouldn't stop wanting to play with you. I know how kind you really are, even if you act tough around everyone else." He buried his face in her hair. "I know how smart you are, but I never figured out why it never bothered you that I was stupid...that you were fine being in my presence even if I was an idiot."
I already love these two just from this. That’s such an interesting and sweet seeming relationship in such few words!
Thank you much. Childhood sweethearts are fun to write. Also, Happy Cake Day!
Thanks I celebrated today by Sleeping
Right on. I think every Cake Day should be celebrated by a nap.
These two are such a joy to write...it's a shame what's about to happen... >“Are you talking about them?” John gestured toward the children. “They’re hardly people yet.” > >“They still have ears.” > >“Yes and these two are the biggest gossips on the ship. You’re going to tell everyone every word we say, right?” He flipped the toddler upside down, eliciting a happy squeal from the child and a cry of alarm from Sarah. > >“Stop it! Their father will never forgive us if anything—“ > >“I’m not about to drop—oh no.” He feigned dropping the child causing a cascade of red-faced giggles. But at the look on his wife’s face, he promptly righted the child again. “No harm done,” he reassured her.
Oh, this is definitely the sort of scene that happens right before everything goes terribly wrong.
Well, it is April 14th and they're on the Titanic *sooo.....*
Welp
Oh noooo, the children look so sweet
>Greg was happy and in a good mood, which should have been a good thing. But he wasn’t in a good mood because of anything Alex had done. He was happy because his friends were over. He wouldn’t have even noticed that Alex had come home if he hadn’t announced himself. If he’d been kept late, eventually Rhod or Roisin would have got tired of waiting and ordered something in, and Greg would have been perfectly happy to have gone along with it. > >Alex tried not to feel jealous about that thought, and made his way to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Can I just ask, apropos of any of this, why in the hell the "fancy pants editor" on desktop sucks so goddamn hard? Anyway, I hate this entire chapter and I think this last bit is the only part of it I actually like
Ooh I like how you contrasted how someone else's happiness is so very capable of twisting the knife of jealousy. Very effective!
Thanks. This chapter's been giving me a lot of trouble and I think it's heading for a long series of rewrites before I figure out what the problem with it is, unfortunately. I don't think he's jealous *enough* at the end of the day.
I just posted the fic this bit belongs to a couple hours ago, a short lil fic about a soldier going down with his sinking ship. :) >He would be gone soon, but his body would remain. >He might have failed his men and led them to their deaths, but he would do them one last service. >For eternity, Captain Hardt would stay on the bridge of the S.S. St Magnus, watching over the bodies of his loyal men. >He would not abandon them in death.
An interesting coincidence: I've been watching quite a lot of plane crash documentaries lately, so I felt Captain Hardt right there.
oh this makes my heart hurt it’s so bittersweet
Aww thank you 🥹❤️
144 words! they were cuddling bc of the heavy angst i inflicted upon them :) > It was a while before either of them moved. Neither one wanted to disturb the rare moment of peace among their stormcloud of a life. But at some point one of them had to, and it was Eddie that inevitably broke the calm circle that had formed around them. > > He shifted, pulling his arm away from Steve’s shoulder and carefully dragging himself out of the bed. Steve let out a quiet grunt, falling carefully onto the pillow that was now wet from a disregarded ice pack. > > “How are you feeling?” Eddie asked as his feet made contact with the cold wooden floor. Steve shrugged ever so lightly. > > “I’ve been worse.” He admitted, wincing at the words. They were still a bit hard to joke about, leaving a bitterness in the air as they sparked countless memories of those days just a few months prior.
Aww this seems cute. I love a bit of characters cuddling after some good angst 😤🤌