#fanfic snippets
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Spider Sees Ghosts AU
So, this idea has been in my drafts for a while, and it wasn't until @lovermyme mentioned the lack of this AU that I went back into and started writing some of it. I honestly had such a difficult time writing some of this because for some of it Spider is a young child and I don't write from the POV of children often.
Anyhow, this AU, Spider starts to see spirits from a young age. It isn't until after Paz dies when he is about four that he starts telling people about being able to see these spirits, but not many people believe him. He is cast out as that weird kid by peers. But eventually, those around him start to believe him when he tells them things about them, their family, their history---things that he shouldn't know.
This work will be a multi chapter, and it will connect to another story idea I got in mind that is focused on the backstories of the Recoms. Anyway, here are a couple of snippets I got. Enjoy.
MJ clutched the stuffed monkey to his chest, silent as he examined the apartment. Johnny did his best to give the boy a smile, although it was sad to see how quiet and withdrawn the boy had gotten ever since Paz had died.
“Well, you make yourself comfy, okay MJ. I got a pullout bed on the sofa, so you can sleep there tonight.” He placed the boy’s backpack down next to the sofa and headed into the kitchen.
“Have you eaten dinner yet?” MJ shook his head, the stuffed monkey still clutched tightly in his grip.
“Okay, well, is there something particular you wanted to eat?” Most kids would jump at the chance to ask for or something else that was overtly “appropriate” dinner food.
But MJ just shrugged. “Whatever you got is fine.”
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“Who’s that you’re drawing?”
“A lady.”
“Does the lady have a name?”
MJ paused what he was drawing and glanced off to a spot to his right, just in front of the coffee table he sat at. After a moment, he resumed his coloring.
“Her name is Henrietta.”
Johnny froze, his heart jumping up into his throat. That was a name he hadn’t heard in a long time. The only person he’d ever known with the name Henrietta was his grandma, and she had passed many years ago, when he was about fifteen.
He glanced over in the direction of where MJ had been looking a moment before and then lowered himself onto the floor next to the boy. He peeked down at the drawing, noting that MJ had drawn other people, ones he didn’t recognize. But, even with it being a drawing by six year old, he could clearly see the features of the woman he'd drawn and it matched to what his grandma looked like. The square framed glasses, with the beaded chain she hung them on. Her ever present floral sweater that she wore no matter the weather, her hair up in a bun--elderly women often envied how much hair his grandmother had had at her age.
“How old is Henrietta, MJ?”
MJ glanced again over to the right of the coffee table before he looked back down at his drawing. In black crayon, he wrote R.I.P. over top of the picture of Henrietta. “She’s been gone a long time.”
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“...Can you tell me a story?” He seemed hesitant in asking the question, as though he was expecting to be rejected.
He owned a good amount of books, although there were only two or three books he’d kept from his childhood. One of them being a gift that his grandmother had given him when he was about four. She had read it numerous times to him, and he never got tired of the story or the illustrations.
He showed the book to MJ. “Where the Wild Things Are. This one okay?”,
MJ nodded and Ja took a seat next to the boy, got comfortable, and opened up the book. Before he could start reading though, quietly the kid thanked him and leaned into Johnny’s side so that he could see the pictures better. Johnny was pleased to see that his narrating skills drew a small smile from the boy and after finishing reading the book, he was surprised of the feeling he had in his chest. One of pure contentment.
He glanced down at the cover.
“You know, when I was a kid, this was-”
“Your favorite,” MJ said, cutting him off.
“Uh, yeah…how did you guess?”
MJ had moved to rest his head back on the pillow, the blankets now pulled up around his chin.
“She stayed to make sure you are okay…” he muttered sleepily. With eyes half open, clouded with sleep, he glanced up at Johnny. “Are you okay, uncle Ja?” He tucked the boy's stuffed monkey in with him as he fought to breath past the sudden lump in his throat. He cleared his throat, determined not to cry.
"Yeah, I'm okay, kid."
#atwow fanfiction#avatar fanficton#spidersocorro#miles quartich#lyle wainfleet#recom mansk#recom ja#recom lopez#recom zdog#recom prager#au fanfiction#fanfiction#ability to see ghosts#fanfic snippets#modern au
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Jon have you met yourself?
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Uprooted (Naomi Novik)
"You're trying to capture something that can't be captured," Agnieszka tells him reproachfully. "It's not like - magic isn't some sort of math equation. It has a life of its own, like a stream, and you just guide it to where you want it to go." And then she's off again about forests and gleaning and picking trails and other words that sound more like they belong in a guidebook for hiking than a treatise on magic. It's like they're speaking two completely different languages. Sarkan has never felt this mystical "consciousness" to his magic, no sense of a will or instinct. Every spell he's ever done on purpose has been the steady, patient work of building: the spells providing the blueprints, his words placing the bricks, his magic holding them together like mortar.
- untitled fic with role reversal between Agnieszka and Sarkan, where Agnieszka is the centuries old witch of the woods and Sarkan a 17-year-old orphan who just wants to steal her magical books
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last line game!!
Rules: In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like).
thanks @reaperlight for the tag! I’m gonna follow your example and post a bit more than the last line I wrote
here’s the last paragraph I wrote for my fic:
Eddie leaned into the more monstrous side of the transformation. The sweet embrace of the tendrils, weaving across his body and twisting it into something new, made his heart race. His face shifting, his teeth elongating and sharpening, his tongue growing, his eyes shifting into glossy, iridescent white made him feel more comfortable in his own skin. Which was odd, considering it wasn’t truly his skin.
He was more like himself while in their combined form, while Venom.
tagging (no pressure, only do this if you want to!)
@kitausuret @bluebladerose @soodoonimin @shibanagame @softgrungeprophet @merelypassingtime
#this is the fic I was talking about a bit ago that got me psychoanalyzed by my friends lmao#we stay silly :3#tag game#fic game#fanfic snippets#venom fanfiction
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Girldad Joel Miller, my beloved
#he would TOTALLY make pinky promises with Sarah#prove me wrong#the last of us#joel miller#tlou#hbo tlou#hbo the last of us#sarah miller#snippets#fanfic snippets#i write sometimes
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I was originally going to wait to do this, but I'm too impatient and wanted to share these somewhere, so have some funny snippets from my @dtqkbigbang fic!
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Bonus: Foolish and Punz being my favourite cameo duo
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WIP Sunday
So this scene takes place after Jaster's Mandalorians attack a Death Watch base. Ostensibly, it's all a bounty hunt because Death Watch all have active bounties and Death Marks on their head. (Note: I have no idea if that was just an Empire-only thing or if it was pre-Empire. Obviously I'm going with this being a pre-Empire thing). So they successfully attack their base, take a couple alive safely and Jaster tells them all the skedaddle and he'll deal with the inevitable police presence. Something no one is particularly happy about though he points out as Mand'alor he does have a certain amount of diplomatic immunity in that which cop is going to want to endanger their careers by arresting the sovereign ruler of the Mandalore system? aka, he's playing the odds.
And this is the interview and aftermath of that. Not my most EXCITING WIP Sunday offering, sorry? NGL this whole chapter has been a bit of a shit show though so why shouldn't this be mediocre as well?
“Now, explain to me why I shouldn’t just arrest you and throw away the key?” Keth Yoan stated flatly as he eyed Jaster from across the kitchen table in the Death Watch hideout. Everyone else had been banished from the kitchen and Jaster was still in binders though they had at least left him his caf.
“Because that would be a political nightmare. Arresting the Mand’alor of the Mandalore systems for performing a legally executed bounty order? All of these people have a Death Mark on them and a capture dead or alive bounty, which has been posted for years. These are known terrorists,”
“Interesting choice of words there, Mand’alor. Execute.”
“Their deaths are unfortunate, but the bounty does say dead or alive. They resisted and had to be taken down.” Jaster said calmly, sipping his caf.
“And you expect me to believe you took out six people alone?” The detective asked skeptically.
“I am the Mand’alor.”
Yoan gifted him with a disbelieving look. “Stop wasting my time, Mand’alor.”
“Look, Death Watch is a terrorist organization. I took care of them so they couldn’t hurt anyone else. No one got hurt; we’ll pay for the damages to the building if needs be. At the end of the day I was within my rights to use lethal force when performing my duties as a bounty hunter.”
“I looked into that. Your license is current, but you’ve barely collected bounties in the past twenty years. So I don’t think you could classify yourself as a bounty hunter.”
“I’ve been fairly busy the past few years, as you can imagine. I have collected a few bounties, so that’s not entirely fair.”
“And what? You just decided to come out of retirement because Death Watch just happened to be hiding out here conveniently? And you expect me to believe you took out six men alone?”
“Did your witnesses see anyone else?” Jaster asked with casual politeness.
That had the other man narrowing his eyes at him in annoyance. “You know they didn’t. But I find it hard to believe you were in the hallway and also fighting Death Watch at the same time. So you clearly had at least one accomplice.”
“Whether I did or not, I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say. Ultimately, I’m the one who officially is collecting the bounty. I waited for the authorities and filed the required paperwork with the Guild. I’m sure by now you’ve verified that as well.”
“You can’t just stroll in and gun down an entire apartment full of people, even criminals.” Now he was starting to sound heated.
“I was executing a lawful bounty hunt, Detective Yoan. As I said, their deaths were unfortunate, but the bounty does stipulate dead or alive. It’s not murder when I perform within the bounds of a contract legally recognized by your Galactic Republic.” In the face of Yoan’s frustration, Jaster was calmly inscrutable.
“Now, I’ve been highly cooperative with you thus far, but it’s late and I’d really like to go home and shower. It’s been a long night. Unless you have any further questions for me, Detective Yoan?”
“This isn’t the end of this, Mand’alor. I noticed Tor Vizsla isn’t among the dead, so I assume you will continue to cause mayhem and go on barely sanctioned rampages on my streets?”
“I don’t want the blood of any civilians on my hands, Detective. I can assure you, I have no interest in causing mayhem, as you put it.”
“You can have all the best intentions in the world, Mand’alor, but you are still playing games with innocent people’s lives. You got lucky this morning; you may not next time. I hope you are prepared to deal with the consequences of your actions.”
A troubled look flickered across Jaster’s face as the CSF officer removed the binders from his wrist.
“You’re free to go for now, but please keep yourself available for further questioning, and do not leave the planet without clearance from my office.”
“I am at your service, Detective Yoan.” The Mandalorian assured him earnestly as he climbed to his feet. “I will try and minimize any further damages.”
“The sooner your peace summit is over, and you’re off my planet, the better. You can take your personal war with these terrorists with you.” Keth informed him coolly and Jaster merely nodded his head in agreement before turning on his heel to leave the crime scene.
When he stepped out of doors and onto the street, he wasn’t overly surprised to find Myles waiting there for him, leaning against a speeder bike. His aide-de-camp was exactly two meters beyond the cordoned-off area the CSF had set up.
Myles straightened up the moment he caught sight of him, and while Jaster couldn’t read his expression thanks to the fact the younger man was kitted out in full armor, he could read the agitation in the man’s body language all the same.
“Nice of you to pick me up, Myles. I take it you’re feeling better?” He called out in Mando’a.
“Save it, sir. Let’s get the hell out of here before they come to their senses and try to arrest you.” Myles replied in kind, the barely leased aggression in his tone unmistakable as he climbed onto the speeder bike.
“Ah, you’re upset,” Jaster commented lightly as he climbed behind him onto the bike.
“Everyone is upset right now. That happens when their leader gets detained by the kriffing CSF.” The younger Mandalorian pointed out bitingly as nudged the bike into a break in the traffic headed towards the entrance of the closest hover-lane.
“I have it under control.”
“No, you assumed you had it under control. There is a difference.” Myles snapped at him shortly.
“Did the others make it to the safe house?”
“Yes, Mij comm’d me when they made it. We’re headed there now.” Usually, trying to communicate on a speeder bike would have been challenging, but they had comms built into their helmets which made things a lot easier.
It also made it harder to dodge awkward conversation, he discovered.
“We never discussed taking prisoners. Are you sure that is a wise decision? What are you planning on doing with them once you’re done?” Trust Myles to ask him the hard-hitting questions he hadn’t figured out himself yet. Well, at least he was slightly more polite about it than Mij would have been, and he had no doubt the doctor had an opinion on them taking the three Death Watch members as prisoners.
“Like I told the others, it depends on their cooperation.”
“They’re kriffing Death Watch, Jaster! They won’t cooperate.” The frustration in the younger man’s voice was unmistakable.
“Then I guess they will enjoy the inside of a Coruscanti prison. Unless you think we should waste the manpower transporting them back home.”
“Just prison? Because I’m going to be honest, from how it’s been described to me, I think Kyr Ordo is under the impression we will be dumping the bodies down a deep, dark chasm.”
“Well, I just live to disappoint Kyr Ordo.” Jaster snorted quietly. “Look, I want answers from these bastards, but I won’t resort to cold-blooded torture if that’s what you’re worried about. We won’t surrender our honor and stoop to Tor Vizsla’s level by torturing them. But they don’t need to know that when we question them.”
Some of the tension seemed to leave Myles’s shoulders when he said that. “You didn’t really think I was going to condone torture, did you?”
“No, but I’m afraid that message may not have been conveyed clearly to the others.”
“Kriff, let’s see how fast this hunk of bolts can go without us triggering every speed trap between us and the safe house.”
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Out of curiosity
Have I written any snippets of ideas y'all want me to write fully fleshed out?
I have a mountain of WIPs to write, but I'd like to know what y'all want
#Billy batson#dc captain marvel#Shazam#Dc comics#Fanfiction#Ao3#Fanfic snippets#Fanfic ideas#writing is a process#And it's processing me through a meat grinder
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Random WIP Snippet
He mirrored her gesture, his fingers gentle against her cheek despite the callouses. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Kali. I’ve been abominable to you, and all because the person I’m truly angry with is myself.”
Lavender-edged eyes watched him, her expression too knowing for comfort. “It was not your fault.”
“I promised her I would take care of her,” he whispered, and felt her fingers tighten comfortingly around his. “She was alone because of me, and I swore I would always protect her. But I couldn’t. Not in Ul’dah, not in the Antitower, and not in - wherever Urianger pulled us to.”
Her fingers skimmed along his cheek and he closed his eyes. “Oh Thancred,” she murmured. “You sacrificed yourself for her in Ul’dah - you had no way of knowing, of believing, that you would survive. But you stood fast that she might escape. And you would have gone with her, had she allowed it,” he heard her voice catch. “You would have stayed with her, stood at her side in that place between worlds, as steadfast and true as always.”
Would he have? Gazing down into Kal’istae’s upturned face, those lavender-edged eyes dark with sorrow, he wondered - would he have? Given the choice between staying with Minfilia or staying with Kal’istae, how would he have chosen? Could he have chosen?
Or had Minfilia refused him knowing how torn his heart was?
His fingers cupped her cheek, his hand tightened on hers, and he drew her in. She resisted, frowning in confusion - then closed her eyes and let him pull her into his arms. As he enfolded her in a gentle embrace, he felt her arms hesitantly come around his waist. “I miss her,” he whispered.
Her arms tightened, comfort offered unasked, without qualm or hesitation. She rested her forehead against his throat and held him close. His arms crossed over her shoulders and he lowered his head until his lips pressed against her hair. She smelled of wild roses and fresh churned earth and sage - of healing and magic and mystery - and the scent of her filled his head and his heart.
The tears caught him unawares, the sobs erupting from his throat before he could stifle them. He tried to pull away, shocked and embarrassed, and discovered that if the Warrior of Light didn’t want to let you go, you were going nowhere. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Let it out.”
“I - I can’t - “
“If you can’t with me,” Kal’istae’s voice murmured through the tears, “with whom can you? Cry, dearest Thancred. Mourn.”
He had no choice. The tears were already here. With a sob, he dropped to his knees, feeling her hold loosen as he released her, then as his own arms enveloped her waist, she pulled him close. He felt her fingers skim through his hair, heard her voice, soothing and soft, though he couldn’t make out the words through his sorrow. He rested his head against her stomach and cried.
Time crept on, but he did not mark the passing of it. Tears he’d been holding back for years - decades - poured from him, his body shuddering in her grasp from the force of his sorrow. Eventually, however, it eased, coming to a halt, and he drew back, leaving one arm tucked around her waist while he lifted the other to swipe at his uncovered eye. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be,” came the soft reply, and he felt her fingers smooth through his hair one last time before her hand dropped away. Tilting his head back, he gazed into her compassionate face. “It was far too long in coming, my friend.”
He rose with one smooth motion and she backed up a step, but he moved with her, reaching out to place his hands on her hips. She stilled, staring up into that single agate eye, uncertain. “And how long,” he asked, his voice low and hoarse from his weeping, “has it been for you, my lady?”
Frozen, she stared up at him, and he could see her begging him not to press the issue. “Don’t be silly,” she replied, the gaiety in her voice patently forced. “What have I to cry about? I’ve shed all the tears I needed to.”
He remembered watching her in the wastes of Coerthas, mourning her fallen knight. “All of them?”
“Thancred, don’t -”
His hands slid up, skimming along her side and arms until he cupped her shoulders. “As I can attest, sorrow shared is sorrow halved.” When her lip trembled, then firmed, he pressed further. “I am not the only one who misses her. Who misses them.”
She reached up to shove at his wrists, but he held firm. “I have no time…”
“We have all the time in the world right here, right now.”
Reaching up, she planted her hand flat against his chest and moved to shove him away. He caught her wrist and tugged and she was falling into his arms. Even as they closed about her, solid and firm, the sobs had begun, thick and harsh. She curled up against his chest and wept for their lost, their missing, their fallen family and friends.
He held her close, then shifted, picking her up and carrying her towards the stairs. As she clung to him and cried, he settled down to sit upon the steps leading down and cradled her to him, pressing his lips against her horn as she turned her face into his throat, weeping. Her tears brought his again, though they were quiet and gentle, sliding down his cheeks in silence as he rocked the woman in his arms and crooned softly in sympathy.
As before, time marched on inexorably, and her shudders finally ceased, her tears drying up as she expunged the last of her grief over the losses they had suffered. Uncurling, she gazed up at him, blinking lavender-edged eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He continued to hold her, gazing back down. “You need never apologize to me, sweet Kali. My only regret is that it took me so long to stop being so bone-headed.”
Wriggling in his arms, she shifted until she was upright. He kept ahold of her, but loosened his grip until she could get comfortable. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and gave him a sweet smile. “Don’t be silly, Thancred. We were both to blame for what came between us. I can only be grateful that we’ve put it behind us.” She bit her lip. “We have put it behind us, haven’t we?”
His eyes involuntarily tracked down to her mouth. “Indeed, I can promise you that. Let us never argue so again, please; I have missed you.”
Relief brightened her eyes and she sighed. “Yes, oh, yes,” she agreed fervently. “It has been so terrible, being at odds with you.” Delighted, she leaned up and pressed her mouth against his in a friendly kiss.
When she would have pulled away, however, his grip tightened on her, his hand sliding into her hair and tightening, holding her in place. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She stared up at him, eyes wide. “I - ah… Thancred,” she stuttered. “I didn’t mean - we’re not…” As he leaned in and nuzzled against her cheek, she lost her train of thought and exhaled explosively. “What?”
His lips skimmed her jaw, tracing across the scales that edged her face. “Will you tell me,” he whispered, his breath tickling her skin, “that you didn’t feel that?”
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I would like to introduce everyone to Bellatrix/Pandora, aka Belladora. I have seen a SINGLE fic of them on ao3, and I need more. So have a snippet of the oneshot I'm writing of them right now
“Hello, love.” Pandora greeted her in their usual soft, wispy voice. Luna looked up from her drawing and smiled, looking for all intents and purposes a near copy of her mother Pandora.
“Mama!” Luna greeted cheerfully, jumping up to run over. Bellatrix grinned and scooped Luna up in her arms, neither of them bothered by the fact her clothing- made by none other than Pandora themself with leather as a heavy mark of the outfit- was still covered in blood. It was mostly dried by now, but it still got onto Luna’s robes as she threw her arms around Bella’s neck.
“There’s my darling little moon,” Bellatrix cooed, trading cheek kisses with the little four year old. “How have my two favorite people been today?” She walked over to the couch, leaning down to Pandora to give them a kiss as well.
“We missed you!” Luna said sweetly, her voice just as wispy as Pandora’s. They were both odd compared to the average person, but Bellatrix just loved them all the more for it. After all, not only was it cute, but it was a mark of them being seers in their own rights. “Mummy took me out to the forest again today. The pixies were very happy with the little homes that I helped build last week.”
#fanfic snippets#belladora#bellatrix x pandora#bellatrix lestrange#pandora lovegood#bellatrix/pandora#why is there not more of this?#please rec me belladora stuff if you have any 😭#harry potter fanfiction
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Avatar Fanfiction: AU--Spider is a Street Kid
I really got to wrap up on some of my WIPs before I go around posting more. But this is something that has been in my documents for a while, and after seeing some artwork posted by @lanya-del-sol about an AU where Spider is a street kid and becomes addicted to drugs/alcohol.
I don't yet know the entire path that this story will take, but in this Quaritch has just been released from prison after serving a sentence for a crime he did not commit. First thing he does is search to see where his son ended up, in this case, with the McCosker family, and they are rather neglectful and more or less allowed Spider to fall in with the wrong crowd and eventually get hooked on drugs and alcohol, as well as selling his body.
Here is a little snippet. Nothing graphic is mentioned in it, so there are no trigger warnings.
It had taken him much longer than he thought it would to hunt down the whereabouts of his boy. His son was the first thing on his mind as soon as he stepped foot onto the other side of the prison walls. Walking around as a free man was a nice feeling to have running through his veins, but it did nothing to ease the worry and discomfort that rolled about in his guts.
Paz had passed away years ago, their boy had only three at the time. Now MJ would be nearly sixteen years old. And in all that time, Miles couldn’t help but wonder and imagine who his boy had ended up with. If anything were to happen to him and Paz, custody was supposed to go to Lyle, but the judge had screwed him over in that along with his sentencing, and had placed MJ in the foster care system, since that was supposedly what was best for his child at the time. For the many years he sat in prison, struggling to stay sane and clear his name; in his dreams, he’d hoped that MJ had gotten lucky and ended up with a wonderful set of foster parents.
Those dreams were shattered into a million tiny fragments as he laid eyes upon the address he’d dug up. Staring at the house that belonged to his boy’s fosters parents made Miles wish for the umpteenth time that he and Paz had written in their will Lyle as a guardian should something happen to them since word alone clearly hadn’t been enough.
#avatar fanficton#atwow fanfiction#spider socorro#miles quaritch#spider and quaritch#au fanfiction#modern day au#drug and alcohol addiction#ao3.org#my wips#wip fic#fanfic snippets#snippets
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Jonathan: Just because I got told to comfort you does not mean i'm not judging you so hard.
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Soul Eater
“I know,” Soul sighs, sounding so unbearably exasperated and inexplicably fond that her heart is sent into overdrive. “Can’t take you anywhere without worrying about whether we’re gonna get kicked out ‘cause you thought punching someone was easier than using your words -”
“Y-you’re one to talk!” Maka crosses her arms, clutching them close in an attempt to calm the pounding in her chest. “You hate making conversation more than I do!”
“Lucky I got you with me then, hm?” He sends her a devastating, sharp-toothed grin, and her heart refuses to be caged in by her ribs and arms any longer, leaping into her mouth.
- untitled, in which Soul and Maka have to pretend to be engaged in order to stop a witch that works as wedding planner
She hesitates. She's hugged Soul loads of times, and vice versa - they've never been shy about physical contact, couldn't be, really, what with him being a weapon and her wielding him. Honestly, she'd probably been in far more compromising positions with Soul in reality.
But something about the way they touched each other in the dream felt different. A kind of casual comfortableness, perhaps, a intimacy that seems strange and out of place in their reality. Just imagining it happening with the Soul sitting across from her, solid and immutable and unequivocally real, causes a low-lying embarrassment to settle in the pit of her stomach.
- titled “giving up”, in which Maka has too-real dreams about future her and Soul in a relationship that makes her start to question what she wants in the present
Shinigami are tools of the living, and so your father tried to write it into the flesh of his firstborn. But tools must have wielders, ones that are equal to the strength of the task, or all risk being consumed. A lesson the world learnt swiftly, but not so swift to prevent your creation.
Asura had a name. Your father merely calls you Kid, and on good days you think that to be a source of pride. On bad days, you think it to be a reminder of the brother you are too close to becoming.
- titled “ghosted with the memories gone astray”, Kid’s part of inverse weapon-meister AU
" 'Never being able to live up to my father?' " he interrupts, tone deadly level. "Don't worry, Maka, you made that point quite well yesterday too, and I assure you, I am well aware of all that I am lacking in comparison to him." Even with the mask, she can read his quiet grief, hear the loss in his voice. The crushing weight of regret and guilt bears down upon her, and she nearly reaches out for him, lips already forming an apology -
But Kid's next words betray none of the lost son she once called 'friend', and her ire spikes as he says, "However, I will tell you as I told you not twenty-four hours ago: whether or not I possess all the qualities as my late father, I am still your god - and your employer. Therefore I suggest you treat me with the respect I deserve."
- tentatively titled “Maka Albarn’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” where Maka gets stuck in a time loop after her insecurities cause her to piss off two very important people to her
Soul doesn't say, You were the one that challenged him in the first place. He doesn't say, Kid's our friend, and you know he only agreed to it because he knew it'd make you happy. He doesn't say, Stop being a sore loser and acting like a brat and let's go play basketball to blow off some steam.
He doesn't say, I wish you cared half as much about my opinion as you do Kid's.
What he does say is, "If you break your hands, we won't be able to challenge him for a rematch tomorrow."
- untitled Soul/Black*Star fic (with minor Star/Kid and SoMa)
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Last Line Tag/Heads Up 7 Up!
I was tagged by @oceangirl24 for a last line, and @late-to-the-fandom tagged me a couple days ago for Heads Up 7 Up that I can't remember if I did - so I'm gonna do them both now haha
Tagging: @mrsmungus @mikaharuka @justadmiringanakin @tsunderewatermelon @alonelyturtle @alpaca-clouds + open tag for whoever would like to share something!
I've been bouncing between projects like crazy, so I'm going to drop 1-2 lines from several things just to switch it up!
From ch. 22 of Friends of the Bride & Groom:
Padmé laughed, shoving him away before he gave her one more reason to not get up. “We are not using our babies that everyone doesn’t even know about as an excuse just because we suddenly can’t keep our hands off each other. Now, go. You first so I can have my coffee without you breathing down my neck.”
From A Series of Firsts (an unposted Anidala fic):
He’d gone from her kindergarten friend to someone that made her heart speed up and her mouth go dry. And she didn’t have any idea how to stop it.
From a Fluffbruary prompt fic Drabble for Steggy:
“Care for a dance?”
From Meet Me in Colorado (my ScarVis fic that finally got a title!):
“And where are you from?”
“Southern California,” he said with an affirming nod. “Naturally.”
She stared at him for a beat before his resolve cracked into a smile and she found herself laughing alongside him.
And, from an untitled Bruce/Jane fic in my draft folder:
“Would you get it together?” Tony asked, leaning on the other side of the bar. “You spend every day in that lab together. What’s a single night? Have a drink. Relax.”
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Y'know what, in light of my most recent actual post I made, here's a little snippet of something I'm working on
It's unedited because I'm still in the early stages of writing, but I'm enjoying working on it so far.
#snippets#fanfic snippets#i write sometimes#the last of us#joel miller#tlou#hbo tlou#hbo the last of us#joel is my favorite girldad#sarah miller#before you ask this IS a fix-it#not of sarah though#this spans form sarahs birth allll the way to jjs birth#its a fix-it of part 2 is what im trying to say#joel gets to be a dad and a grandpa
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This story starts as cliché as I can possibly make it, because it’s my story and I can tell it how I want to tell it. If I want to wax poetic for a few hours then let me. Not like we have anywhere else to go currently. So here we go. Once upon a time. Creative right? As if, I’m not looking for criticism, I’m telling a story. Let me speak or I won’t share it at all.
-Rose Gold Dandelions, Chapter 1-
#fanfic snippets#Nobody’s Rose AU#Bloody Sakura Rose#Rose Gold Dandelions#rwby#rwby au#kingdom hearts#kh#kingdom hearts au#crossover#narrator unnamed#........ no I won't tag who it is#take a guess xD
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