#and i only know snippets of how she burnt her hands

[nanodot]

a danganronpa bnha au but it just has makoto with deku's quirk and kyoko with todoroki's quirk

so my hand slipped but i have a perfectly reasonable explanation---

#danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #kyoko kirigiri #makoto naegi #i have so many thoughts about kyoko having todoroki's quirk #so 2 reasons why kyoko doesn't use the fire side the first few times #so we know that jin is the disappointment of the family and kyoko hates him for that #so something like that happened and kyoko refused to use the fire side bc she didn't want to be associated with her dad #readon number 2 #so i only read the first volume of the kirigiri novel (can someone please translate the rest) #and i only know snippets of how she burnt her hands #but basically what i'm trying to say is that the quirk was also the cause of how she burnt her hands #and she doesn't use the side bc she's scared she'll get hurt or somethin #idk how makoto gets the quirk #probably found it on the side of the road or something #my inspo was the deku vs todoroki fight #bnha au #may add more tags idk #oh yeah kyoko has temperature proof gloves #nano art

[loveandleases]

(Happy Valentine's Day~ I hope everyone has a good day be that alone or with someone. Thought I would do a nice little snippet of one of the Valentine's Day of MC's past. It's a bit long but either way hope you enjoy.) Shifting around in your desk chair, you reach a hand out to graze along the soft petals of roses sitting on your desk. It had been the third set of flowers that came for you today. The first were in your chair when you arrived this morning, the second set waiting for you in your locker in the break room. The third set, the ones you’re currently admiring, were waiting for you when you got out of your meeting.

You had to admit, they were quite beautiful. Each dozen a different color than the one prior. The first a soft yellow, with a card wishing you a good morning. The second a nice orange, another card with well wishes for the day. This set, a nice lavender shade, though the card had yet to arrive.

A soft smile on your face, that is until you feel hands cover your eyes. Your body stiffens, wondering if it’s the sender of what is getting to be your little flower garden. Then slowly your senses begin to adjust allowing you to pick up a familiar scent. A scent you’ve grown familiar with. Warm vanilla. Making it easy for you to put a face to the voice that then whispers into your ear.

 “If it isn’t the second most popular person in the office.”

 Reaching up you grab her soft delicate hands and move them down, finally opening your eyes. “Were you that bored without me here, Kara?” 

 She scoffs, before looking down into your eyes. Furrowing her brows, an expression that doesn’t suit her delicate features at all. You watch as her gaze drifts , realizing then that you’re still holding her hands.

Pursing her lips Kara yanks them away, almost as if the simple contact burnt her. Her cheeks slightly redder than they were before. Must be the heat, at least that’s what you thought.

“I was getting tired of picking up all the slack. Do you know how many nights I had to stay late? I thought you were supposed to be back last Friday?” 

 It’s hard not to grin at her, as she folds her arm and gives you a very forced pout. Kara was never one to stay late at the office, unless you were involved.

“Sorry, flight got delayed. By that point Keegan just gave me the rest of the weekend off. Has it been busy?”

 “No more than usual, that’s not the point. I’m going to visit my parents this week. I was hoping I would see your before I leave. I can’t leave in good conscience without knowing the second best office worker is here.” 

 She starts to fiddle with her bracelet, her fingers grazing along the little rose charm. 

 “Those are some really big words Ms. Clarke. Some would say you’re vying for my spot.”

She shakes her head, looking around the office with its fluorescent lighting and stark white walls. Then to the flowers that adorn your desk. The most colorful thing in such a dull space, well aside from you. “I hope you like them.”

 Your gaze follows hers, and nod without a second thought. “How could I not? Beautiful aren’t they?” 

 You don’t hear the sigh she lets out, or see the smile she sends your way, as you grab a stack of papers to take into the copying room. Kara follows suit, mentioning the recent visitors to the office, the amount of filing she had to do all by her lonesome. Some would say Kara could be dramatic, especially in her retelling of stories. Though you had to admit that was something you always enjoyed about her.

 “So, did anything happen?”

 “When?” You begin pressing along the screen of the copying machine, content when it actually works. Whirring as it begins to cycle through the papers, and print them out.

“On your vacation.” Kara flips through the extra sheets of paper on the counter top. Little did you know, the only thing she was paying attention to was you. Not the corrections on the files, the whirring of the machine or the warmth of the room.

The only thing she was focused on was the way your eyes crinkle as you smile at her. The way your fingers tap along the screen of the machine, ensuring it prints just enough. The levels of the ink to your liking. The way you rubbed the side of your neck, still trying to fight the stiffness from sitting at your desk for so long.

Shaking your head, leaning a hip against the counter as the papers continue to print, you look at her. Unsure of what shes thinking when she looks at you.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, why?”

She swallows, licking her full lips before grinning at you. “I thought Chris would have asked…”

 Her voice cracks, she then begins to cough. To cover what she almost let slip.

“Ask wha-”

 “If you wanted to have lunch before I go back home over the weekend. It’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it. I guess you two were just too busy.” She winks at you grabbing the copies before you could manage. Nice save Kara. 

“Come on, if we were busy doing...that, why would I tell you?”

 Kara rolls her eyes, walking backwards out of the office.

 “Kara wai-”

 “Ouch!”

 You can’t help but stifle a laugh, as Kara turns to see who she ran into. Ignoring the papers that had fallen out of her hands and now litter the floor. “Chris?” 

 “Hey sis. Really need to watch where you’re going. What if I got hurt? What would you do without me around to save you?” 

 Kara was about to retort, when she noticed a bouquet of white roses in Chris’s hands. “Where did you-”

 “Wait, more flowers? Chris you shouldn’t have. I told you I wasn’t mad about you not coming on the vacation with me.”

Chris side steps Kara and leans in to kiss your cheek.

Kara glances to Chris, then to you holding the flowers so dearly, admiring the beauty of the soft white petals. She folds her arms across her chest and leans against the door frame. “Mom would be proud.” Kara simply says, though part of her realizes it’s said with some contempt. The reason behind that can be thought of on another day.

 “Let me go put these in water and we can go for lunch.”

 Chris walks towards Kara, leaning against the wall watching MC as they walk happily to place the flowers with the other three bouquets.

“Really beautiful flowers. I honestly had no idea it was even Valentines Day I was just coming to ask them for lunch.” They smile to themselves, pleased with their good luck. Not only did they forget it was Valentine’s Day but in MC’s eyes Chris was more thoughtful than ever. The bouquets were not only a sign of a happy day, but also of an apology for not going on the vacation for the weekend. Yeah no dog house for them. 

 “How did you get them?” Kara asks, her eyes scanning Chris.

“Ran into Isaac outside. Said they had a delivery, I asked who for. Imagine my surprise when they said MC. Bet I can guess who they’re from.” Chris turns to Kara, a smug expression on their face. They don’t bother to hide their disgust when the name falls from their lips. Cam. “Cameron.” Chris clicked their tongue.

She doesn’t bother to correct Chris. Even if she did try Chris wouldn’t believe her. They always seem to think the worst of Cam. Regardless of what anyone else says. Chris had always been jealous of their relationship. So much so that it seemed they never considered that someone else may feel something for MC.

She doesn't bother to hide the look on her face when she sees Chris lead MC out of the office, or the feeling inside her gut. One she isn’t quite familiar with, one she isn’t willing to admit.

 Kara takes the card out of her pocket and throws it into the bin. The handwritten words to be forgotten, not to see the light of day. Not to sit along the other handwritten cards she so painstakingly filled out earlier in the day. Along with the flowers she had chosen. 

A card that simply reads, Happy Valentines Day. With Love, Kara.

#loveandleases #love and leases #kara #valentine's day #snippet #mc isn't the only one to spend it with a lovely woman! #divider by cafekitsune #uh oh chris makes an appearance

[jfleamont]

never, sometimes, all the time

a snippet from my upcoming uni/band au - 1701 words

The kitchen is scarcely lit and there's a faint smell of burnt eggs. Someone cooked during the party, probably Marlene. Nevermind that this isn’t her flat; the boys don’t mind. They’ve known her for a couple of months, but they welcomed her with open arms, just like they did with Lily. They’re good, she thinks. These kids are good. They let her smoke inside the house tonight— well, James did. She only smokes every once in a while. Mostly when she’s nervous.

He's sitting across from her, one arm draped across the chair beside him, his head thrown back. His eyes are closed and his lips are slightly upturned; he looks content. Lily thinks he's smiling. 

No, he definitely is.

Maybe it's the alcohol in his system. Or the music, which is still playing, though at a much lower volume than before; the others are already in their rooms, passed out, so they don’t care. This is just for the two of them.

She doesn’t know why she hasn’t left.

“You didn't keep your word,” she tells him. He'd promised Sirius he wouldn't get drunk. They hadn't said why, and only exchanged what looked like a meaningful look that she couldn’t decipher. Not yet, at least.

He chuckles, his eyes still closed. “I've only had one drink. And I didn't know you paid so much attention to me.”

“Remind me not to do it again. Also, it was a Long Island Iced Tea. A strong one, from the looks of it.”

He shrugs. “The situation called for it.”

She leans forward on the table, lowering her voice just a little. “Is this about Peter?”

“No. Maybe. I don't know.”

She waits for him to continue. He does. “It's just that we were so close to being great.” A humourless laugh, “Maybe I'm kidding myself. We weren't close at all.”

She notes the perfectly relaxed line of his brows. Maybe it’s just because he’s tired, but there’s no hint of anger on his face. “You don't seem too bothered by this, though.”

“Oh, well, I'm doing okay now. It's not too bad, I suppose.”

Lily snorts, and knows that he isn’t lying. “Yeah?”

He opens his eyes - they’re tired and soft like she’s never seen them - and fixes them on her.

“Yeah.”

“Always the optimist, you.”

He mirrors her position, resting his chin on his palm. “I had a good night, that's all.”

“I don't think that's all.”

“You’re right, it's not,” he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. He laughs quietly, a hint of anxiety colours his voice.

“So? Tell me,” she prompts him.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and looks behind her for a moment. “I have a plan. Mind you, not a good one, but it's a plan. It's sort of insane and if I'm being honest, it’s probably the worst idea I've ever had.”

“Are we still talking about the band or…?” 

“I found a solution for next week's gig,” he announces grandly, smiling from ear to ear. The only thing that is missing is the jazz hands.

“You found a bassist? That was quick. Who is it?” 

“You.”

She blinks. Several times. James’ smile has faded a little, and his expression looks careful.

“You've got to be joking.”

“Told you it was a crazy idea.”

Lily doesn’t want to think about the implications of this. Being friends with the people Severus couldn’t stand was one thing, but actually performing with them? That couldn’t happen. It’s not like she cares about him anymore. No, that’s not it. Maybe a part of her misses him still, and she used to be a people pleaser when she was around him, but this has nothing to do with that. It’s the fact that she has been questioning every single decision she has made ever since she left Severus behind. With him, it felt right… until it didn’t. Who’s to say that this won’t happen again? She doesn’t trust herself anymore, and this is brand new territory.

“You want me to join your band. You?”

James sits up straighter and gives her a funny look. “Why do you sound so surprised? You're brilliant.”

“But… I can't.”

“You can't or you won't?”

“Can't! How am I supposed to learn your entire setlist by next week?” she exclaims. She doesn’t mean to raise her voice, but she can’t help it. The more she thinks about this, the less confident she feels.

“Actually it would be better by Wednesday.”

He doesn’t look apologetic at all. Strange, since he was so worried about asking her a minute ago. Either he’s mad - and this is a very real possibility - or he just believes she can do it, which, really, is another form of insanity. 

She tells him so. “You're not right in the head.”

“Evans—”

“I've got two papers to submit by the end of next week! There's no way I can play with you,” she says in a whispered shout, and now she’s the one with her hands in her hair.

He’s grinning. “But you want to.”

She suppresses a smile at his bravado, but he’s right. “I want to help you. But I can't.”

He leans in conspiratorially, and his enthusiasm almost wins her over. Almost. “Come on, it would be fun! And it's just a one time thing, okay? Or at least until we find a new bassist.” 

“Can't believe you're asking me this.”

“Please?”

He’s not pouting, but he might as well be, and Lily can’t deny it: she’s thought about this exact scenario. She’s seen them on stage, she knows how good they are: they’re miles better than everyone else in their local music scene, really, and Lily can’t help but wonder if she’ll feel out of place up there. She loves performing, but being in a band with Severus showed her how awful it feels to be overshadowed by someone else, and she doesn’t want a repeat of that.

“… Can I think about it?”

James’ eyes light up. “Is this a yes?”

“It’s a question.”

“Of course you can think about it! Take a couple of days,” he waves a hand around and sits back in his chair, looking triumphant. Lily smiles; she’s about to burst his bubble. 

“Hmm,” she rubs her chin contemplatively, “What do I get in return, though?”

He furrows his brows, not expecting her question. “Oh… We're not getting paid for this gig, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I know, Potter,” she deadpans, rolling her eyes, but there’s no real annoyance in her tone. “I've performed there too. I'm talking about something else.”

The side of his mouth quirks up. Cheeky boy. “Anything in particular?”

“I'll let you know. After the gig,” she adds nonchalantly.

“What if I refuse?”

“These are my terms. Take it or leave it.”

James is thinking hard, by the looks of it. She doesn’t know what kind of favour she’ll ask him, but simply knowing that she has the upper hand in this situation makes her euphoric. He knows he’s signing away his soul if he agrees. She still hasn’t decided if she’s going to mess with him or not. Perhaps she’ll be nice about it.

“Fuck it. It's a deal,” he extends an arm to shake her hand and she’s about to do the same when a thought occurs.

“Hang on, did you say this was the worst idea you’ve ever had? What the fuck?”

“Shot myself in the foot, haven’t I?”

“I’m giving you one chance to recover from this. One.”

“Fuck,” he covers his face with his hands, and she thinks he’s blushing a little but she isn’t sure. “Remus is much better at this. He was supposed to broach the subject but he refused to, thinks I’m mental.”

She drops her smile and freezes. “Is he even okay with this? And Sirius?”

“Don’t worry, they both think you’re great. Sirius says you’re the female Flea.”

She beams at the compliment and relaxes into the seat. “Do you agree?”

His eyes roam around her face and Lily feels warm all over. It only lasts a moment, and then he’s smirking again. “You’re easier on the eyes, so…”

Right. He’s just messing with her. 

“Twat,” she responds, and kicks his chair.

His gaze softens. “But to me you’re more Macca than Flea,” James continues, tilting his head to the side as he studies her once again.

“He was fit when he was younger, not going to lie,” she deflects, because she knows she’s talented - she does! - but she feels the impostor syndrome kick in any time she is compared to another great bassist‒ she has a list; Paul McCartney is at the top. Wait, is James aware of this? She hopes not.

He laughs and nods vigorously. “Especially in the late ‘60s with that beard.”

“Shame he never grew it out again after that,” she sighs, and feels the tension dissipate.

James raises an eyebrow. “Wanna watch the Get Back documentary?”

She’s pretty sure he’s joking, but the last time she saw it she cried, and she doesn’t have the strength to hold back the tears in front of him. Besides, her eyelids feel so heavy that she would probably fall asleep ten minutes in, and she’d rather sleep in a bed tonight. “As much as I’d love to, you’re dead on your feet and I’m not doing much better so… I’d better walk home.”

James sits up straight, suddenly very alert. “No.”

“What do you mean no?”

He gets up from the chair and grabs the remote. “I don’t want to walk in the cold and neither do you,” he says with his back to her as he turns off the music, “so just do me a favour and use my bed.”

She can’t possibly sleep on James Potter’s bed. “You don’t have to—”

“It’s not up for debate,” his tone is resolute but he’s wagging his finger at her, which makes him look kind of ridiculous. “The sheets are clean, changed them this morning.”

“I can’t let you—”

“I’ll take the sofa, goodnight.”

And with that he walks to the bathroom and closes the door.

#told you I had a snippet for my uni/band au #I don't have much else written but I have the plotline down lol #this is kinda shit but it'll change the more I work on it #jily #jfleamont rambles #jple #never sometimes all the time #NSATT

[nobody-nexus]

DND AU: A New Look! (+New Characters)

I decided to revamp the look of the DND AU crew! Underneath the art will be a snippet about the character in the AU as to give you some insight on the plans I have for it

With her memories stolen by the false king, she wandered for the longest time, her destruction of property being seen as a threat. She was imprisoned for a few short months before she was being transferred to another dungeon... Until Jax accidentally stole her cell alongside many other goods. She now hides in plain sight as a jester for the fantastical airship circus under the name 'Pomni'- one that she doesn't know if it's her real name or not

Once just a simple seamstress in a town, her simple life was ruined for the worse when a mouth faced demon had appeared and set the village into chaos, leaving some burnt and others cursed- Ragatha being one of the poor cursed souls. Her body was eating away at her when she was running from the town as she fell down, the god Tyr finding her and helping her. She turned to help the god, becoming a cleric under Tyr's name. She joined the circus later on, becoming a sort of magician for the airship

Adopted son of Luna, Jax has never known anything outside of the airship. He's lived his whole life there, seeing the world pass him by as he just let it happen. He learned quickly how to pickpocket, lockpick, steal, bargain, basically anything to help give more money for him and his family. He even kept it up when he knew they had more then enough money to spare

Once a well renowned bard and, Gangle couldn't be any happier. However, that would change when the false king wanted to test a new artifact known as 'The Tragedy Mask', a mask that latched onto Gangle's face and couldn't be removed. The false king sent a bounty for the mask, leaving Gangle to leave her bard life behind, even becoming a ranger in the process. However, her acrobatic work in the airship circus makes her feel better

The past of this man isn't known well. Kinger seems to be obsessed with the idea of being being a king, even to the point where he won't respond to ANYTHING else but 'Kinger'. He loves bugs, and it seems to be the only reason for him to be a druid. Although timid and flighty, his bugs seem to entertain the crowd at the circus enough

Not many knows about Zooble's creator, a seemingly mad man who wished to make a war forged with no budget. Powered by a multitude of magic infused crystals, the instability of it all made the accidental death of their own creator not much of a shock. Almost like a freakshow performance, Zooble just wanders around the airship to 'perform' and let others react to them or even convince people to give them money for 'tricks' (they're just war forge functions)

Once the king's head bard, but now a deadbeat who lost their original job (and may have been cursed with lycanthrope by the false king), Kaufmo is the head clown, storyteller, AND announcer for the airship circus. Quite the handful of jobs, hmm? Despite him being tired all the time, he's not actually that bad to be around

The two heads of the Fantastical Airship Circus, these two sisters of Summer and Luna are the ringleaders of the place, doing their best to keep the crowd entertained. Luna is more kind and understanding while Summer is stricter and to the books, however they seem to get along nonetheless

The False King himself, Caine is a demon in disguise- taking the place of the true king to give himself more power then any other demon. His ringleader get up is both a mockery as it is a love for the art of a circus- especially since everyone around him seem to be in one

DND AU stuff will be coming out slowly and surely! I love this AU and I hope you do as well

#the amazing digital circus #amazing digital circus #the digital circus #digital circus #tadc #pomni #ragatha #jax #gangle #kinger #zooble #kaufmo #sun #moon #caine #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #tadc jax #tadc gangle #tadc kinger #tadc zooble #tadc kaufmo #tadc sun #tadc moon #tadc caine #au #tadcu au #digital circus au #dnd au #dnd

[lucaaazd]

Snippet of a (not so) little Aruani story I’ve been working on. I love it so much and it’s helped me through some real trying times. Don’t have an ao3 account yet so thought I’d share a chapter on here :)

Premise: A decade after the Rumbling, Armin and Mikasa share a rare moment away from their families in the shade of their childhood tree. Armin opens up about his struggles to connect with one of his children, which leads him down a path of remembrance and reflection.

Ships: primarily Aruani, but a lottttt of other ships get a cameo as well. Eremika, Jeankasa, Jeanpiku, Mikannie, Reijean & more !

TW: (just in this chapter) mentions of abuse

Canon-compliant 💚

“

Life happens.

Annie told him not to worry. She told him how years of physical and emotional abuse, compounded by the multitude of medical experiments Marley conducted on her had likely rendered her infertile.

Looking back, Armin realized he wanted to believe her more than he really did. Why risk it? It’s not like him. He’d read books about the human body and its resilient, unpredictable nature, especially when it comes to the uterus. He remembered flipping through some vividly illustrated pages fervorously at the ripe age of twelve when the librarian with the broken nose caught him, threatening to tie him up for the bit of inappropriate reading he’s doing. The town of Liana, an idle green village tucked away in the thickets of elms and cedars native to Northwestern Wall Rose, wasn’t exactly sizable. Armin often sought shelter in the only library in an hour’s horse ride, which was affiliated with the prestigious Askatu Institute of Science and Liberal Arts. He might have even gone to college if not for what happened to their hometown. Gran was already gone. No one cared if he read a couple books he’s too young for.

Still, ten years later, he’d let Annie lead him into those dark, unused train cars at the wee hours of dawn, words like fallopian tubes and ovulation burnt into his retina. How lame. Was he supposed to be thinking of those when the hand around his was soft and warm and he could feel the urgency in the way it squeezed and tugged him?

Armin's one of those boys who didn’t hit that growth spurt till about 15, with tiny prepubescent shoulders and a squeaky voice that stayed that way when everyone else was going through changes. Annie on the other hand - pretty much everyone had found themselves stealing glances at her at one point or another when they were kids, including Armin. There’s things he’d never even told Mikasa or Eren, including the time when he took it one step too far.

It was way before they became soldiers. He was eleven. He didn’t even know her name. All he knew was that she was an orphan with no one looking out for her. He just wanted to make sure she’s okay.

At least that’s what he told himself.

Him and Annie had reached the unspoken agreement of feigned forgetfulness regarding their encounters, if you could even call them that, back in those days.

One of the first nights after their enlistment, some dude made a tipsy remark along the lines of: “What’s her name again? Elaine? Right, Annie. Annie’s just cool man. There’s just something cool about her.” There was always a lot going on in the mess hall due to certain recruits still getting the hang of respectful communal living, but that comment in particular stood out against the rest. In all the wolf whistles, laughter and murmurs of agreement that ensued, Armin kept his mouth shut. He was kinda hoping they were talking about some other Annie. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure her name was Annie. It definitely wasn’t Elaine. She’d talked maybe twice since their first day and when she did, she was quiet like a mouse.

He couldn’t even remember that dude’s name or face now. He had a feeling he never figured out what exactly was cool about Annie. Probably squashed under her foot like a fly in Stohess. Soldiers from all three factions, including a lot of their fellow cadets, perished that day.

Still, a good number of well-intentioned admirers refused to believe Annie was a cold-blooded mass murderer long after her cover was blown. The rest harbored a justifiable burning hatred towards her based on the conclusion that she’s an insane, sadistic psycho bitch who deserved to get cut up slowly.

Armin knew for a fact that Annie herself leaned towards the second theory, no matter how much she tried to make it seem otherwise. He knew that since the day he watched her hungrily from his hiding spot behind a willow tree as a child, wonder decaying into horror when he realized what she was doing. He knew when she broke down into a manic fit of laughter at the mouth of the underground passageway he had hoped to lure her into. His initial trepidation bubbled into anger, then disgust, then a burning desire to see her bonded and gagged and find out exactly what lay behind those hollow, listless pupils. Her story, one he pieced together with what little could be extracted from her obstinate silence, was punctuated with way too many contradictions for one cohesive meaning to be teased out.

The art of deceiving was not a specialty of hers, hence the muteness. In that way and many other ways, she’s not at all like Reiner or Bertolt, who spewed out lie after lie with all the ingredients of a good story, combining fair quantities of truth and well-phrased speculation with a sprinkling of theatrical alterations to stir the flavors. It took Armin hours of studying Annie’s unresponsive form in the crystal, opening up time and unrolling it to its full length so that he could single out a quiet scoff, the clenching of a fist, replaying the moment frame by frame for signs of mental fissure or psychosomaticism. He kept descending the stairs to the basement where she was held captive, long after spectators’ footsteps grew farther and fewer in between and eventually diminished to the echo of one lone pair of boots, his own.

.”

This chapter is very stream of consciousness but I promise it’s not all gonna be like this 😭 anyways, if u made it this far, cheers and have a good day 💚

Luca 💚

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aruani #armin arlert #annie leonhart

[inkedroplets]

3 + 20 + 24 for the ask game please!

Thanks so much for the ask!

3. how you feel about your current WIP

A bit unsure honestly. It's already looking like it will be another really long fic and I'm not sure how I feel about that. Here's a tiny snippet. (Pasting it in, I realize it's not so tiny, oh well)

“What is this?” Kara asked, horrorstuck at what she saw playing out on screen; Lena standing on the rooftop of the L-Corp building standing next to a piece of machinery that shot a pillar of light into the sky. She watched as it ripped a hole in the sky and one of the Chiaturi came spilling out of it. “This isn’t how it happened…” “No,” Lena said flatly. “It isn’t. But it is what people are going to think happened.” She paused the video and stared for a moment at the frozen image of several Chiaturi flying high over the city. “Stark really outdid himself. Of course I’ll never say that to his face because then I’ll never hear the end of it,” she added, shuddering at the mere thought. “Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing. Holograms,” Lena explained, not wanting to get bogged down in the details. “It looks real though, doesn’t it?” “I don’t understand,” Kara said slowly. “Why would you—” Her hand flew to her mouth like a startled bird. “Lena, no!” Got there in the end, Lena thought, smiling a little. “I’ve already sent it to a few of the larger news outlets. Anonymously, of course. If it isn’t already making the rounds already, it will be shortly. There will be more evidence leaked to various sources over the coming days. Irrefutable proof that I’m the one responsible for the Chitauri invasion.” “But you’re not,” Kara said hotly. “You had nothing to do with it.” “I was responsible,” Lena said in a flat tone that only served to make Kara look all the more agitated. “Lena—” “That’s what people need to believe happened,” she explained with a tired kind of patience. “Because the alternative… That the alien invasion was a result of a series of very unlikely events and sheer awful fucking luck, Kara… That won’t fly.” “That’s what happened,” Kara answered testily. “And that doesn't matter,” Lena countered. “If people don't have someone to blame, if they think that there's even a slim possibility that at any moment the sky might rip open again and the chitauri could destroy what's left of National City, who will they blame, Kara?” 

20. in what year did you publish your first fic?

I can't remember now but I know that it was an X-Files fic so it had to be quite a while ago. I'm old.

24. how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?

I've learned not to try and force myself to be creative. If I'm burnt out or for whatever reason the words just aren't coming, I always think it's best to take a break. I'll read (I'm currently reading Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata) or bake or find something to watch. It usually doesn't take long for me to want to write again.

#ask game #these were fun #eqt-95

[findafight]

Hi! Absolutely loved your pjo stranger things post!!!! Do you have any more headcanons about that verse you’d be willing to share? (Especially about Steve ;))

Not headcanons but little snippets just for you, anon <3

Dionysius has never made it anything other than crystal clear that he hates his job. He dislikes teenagers (their ability to throw Bacchanalia aside) and to be surrounded by them and expected to care about their petty squabbles is just...eugh. The boss man really chose a terrible punishment.

But (and somehow there is a but to working with all his godly peers snot nosed brats) he doesn't...mind young children. They are free of inhibition, look at the world in wonder, are unafraid to taste and try mysteries, and are capable of gluttony to rival a gorged king.

Which is how the youngest camper he's ever had has somehow weedled his way into sitting on his lap as he plays pinochle with Chiron. Dionysius slaps his hands, gently, away from the cards, pulls him a bit farther from the table.

"Mr. D," the kid says "are you my dad?"

He splutters, knocks his (depressingly virgin) cocktail all over the table, gets a chuckle from Chiron (the traitor), and has to grip the kid by the waist to ensure he doesn't tumble to the floor. The kid giggles.

"What makes you say that?" He says after he's finished cursing.

Tiny shoulders shrug. "I dunno. Other campers were talking about their parents, and, Uhm." He squirms "They said I don't got one. Like. God-y or not, cuz I didn't run away but I live here all the time. So I thought maybe camp's my home cuz yer my dad?"

Well, shit. How's he, an immortal being who's own father banished him here and can hardly remember being actually mortal let alone a child, supposed to tell a kid that not only did he get dumped in the woods as a baby, and his godly parent hasn't let anyone know who they are, but the weird guy making sure he doesnt die and knows how to read isn't his dad. Whoever his parents are owe Dionysius so much.

"Well. No. I'm not your dad."

He kicks his feet. "But you help take care-a me?"

"Yes. Because you are little."

"They said that's what their normal parents do."

"Well. I'm a god. So."

"But I'm little. And I don't got one." Godsdammit. Now he sounds sad. "They said sometimes kids don't ever get claimed."

Dionysius shifts him so he can look at his face properly.

"Listen, kid. I'm not your dad. I'd tell you if I was your dad. Promise." He can't believe he just said promise. Gods.

"Okay." He says, satisfied, turning back to the table. "Chiron is for sure not my dad, 'cause I'm not a horse."

Dionysius laughs. Yeah. He's got a soft spot for the little ones.

-------

Steve holds his plate in front of him, cup balancing precariously on top of it. Cindy, the head camper of the Hermes cabin where he's lived ever since he can remember, said they scraped off part of their food as an offering to the gods, and specifically their godly parent. Steve has rotated through all the gods this week, since the older campers decided he's old enough to understand why they do it. He's even offered some to Dionysius, as a thank you even though he knows he's not his dad.

The only god he hasn't yet is Hestia, but he's going to tonight. No one really talks about her, even less than Hera and Artemis, but he figures he can try. Some of the Hunters of Artemis, who visited a while ago, told him about Hestia and how she tended the home fires of the gods. How she got a portion of every burnt offering, even if it wasn't directed to her.

He thinks that she might appreciate something special, so he decides to dedicate his burnt offering to her, and offer what some kids called libations. He'll scrape some food into the fire, and then pour some of his juice over it too. The Hunters told him it was special, so he'll try it. Maybe because she's the goddess of home, she'll know who his parents are.

He steps up, slides half his bun and a pile of mashed potatoes with an asparagus on-top that Cindy helped him divide up before they left the table, into the fire, thinking as loudly as he can for you, Hestia. He places his plate down and picks up his cup, the older kids behind him huffing impatiently. He pours a splash, then a second one because he wasn't sure how much a libation was supposed to be, and thinks again for Hestia and our home as it fizzles to nothing on the bricks of the fire.

Picking up his plate, he smiles to himself. His first week of real offerings is going well, he thinks.

-----

Once, when Steve was sixteen, the magic goblets of the dinner tables filled up with wine. Or at least his did. He took his cup with him, poured his libation for Hestia, one of the only two gods he felt remotely any respect for, and paused. He poured a second, for Dionysius.

After the meal, he was summoned. Mr. D raised his eyebrows at him when he walked in and clamped his hand on his shoulder. He'd long since stopped being intimidated by the god, probably sometime around being promised that he wasn't his son, but couldn't help but feel nervous.

"Kid. You can't do that."

"Why not?"

Mr. D sighed."because I'm dry for the next century. My old man hates loopholes, alright?"

"Oh. Sorry."

"Alright, get out of here. We had a late arrival, a nervous one. Get her settled in Hermes cabin with your gaggle of misfits." He waved Steve out, but before he got off the porch steps, he called out. "And Steve?" He waited until he turned back around, then shrugged. "Thanks for trying."

Steve grinned.

-------

There was gonna be a little hint of steddie here but the app keeps crashing so it's not meant to be

#steve harrington #stranger thing #pjo stranger things #finda writes stuff #pjo stranger things au #anonasaurus #findaanswers #stranger things fic

[twotangledsisters]

"Cass dies in the Great Tree" Is the title literal? Or does it mean something else?

Do you have a piece of history made? Anything you could share? That title and that "Shot" made me curious

Funnily enough... it's not literal but because Cass actually dies AFTER leaving the tree XD so not in the Great Tree.

But yeah, it's not a title to keep. If I don't have a title I just put down the concept until I figure one out!

It's an AU where Cass touching Rapunzel has a much bigger consequence and the gang tries to get her help before it's too late but can't. And Rapunzel and company have to deal with both the guilt of not listening to Cass about the tree being dangerous, but also the consequences, things like, writing home to Corona to let Captain know...

It's only meant to be short but it's another case of... how in the world do I end this little bit of angst?

Here's a few snippets of what's already written :D

In the sunlight the extent of Cassandra’s injury became clear, an almost burnt like black texture covered her arm, her fingernails were gone, her fingers didn’t look like fingers. “Cassandra…” Rapunzel stared. Cassandra took a few deep breaths. “Is everybody alive?” Eugene looked around, leaning heavily on Lance, the decay incantation has taken a lot out of him but he could count. “Yeah… Yeah, for now,” he tried to joke. “Does your hand hurt, Cass?” Cassandra looked up at Rapunzel, tears were in her eyes, something Rapunzel had never seen from her usually strong friend. “That’s a yes…” Eugene answered. “I think I need help…” She whispered. Rapunzel nodded. “Don’t worry, Cass, we’re going to get you to the closest town with a doctor! Right, guys?” Nods and the gang got into action, packing what belongings they had left, Fidella knelt down next to Cassandra and Eugene moved to look at the injury, but it was like nothing he’d ever seen before and he didn’t know how to help.

Cassandra rested on Fidella’s back. Her breathing was shallow, and she lacked all of her usual stability. She was so shaky that Lance and Eugene were standing on either side of Fidella, ready to catch the woman if she fell. Her right arm was completely limp at this point, the blackness which had started with her hand had spread upwards, now reaching past her elbow and towards her shoulder. It wouldn’t be long until it reached a more crucial part of her body. Rapunzel was walking way up ahead, her eyes on the horizon, she hurried as much as she could hoping the next town would come into view already so they could locate a doctor’s office and get Cassandra the help she needed. Rapunzel didn’t know what she’d do if things got worse.

Cassandra lay in the bed with the white sheets, her arm resting atop the sheets. Her arm didn’t even look like an arm at this point and the fact her breathing was so painful told her the blackness had reached her lungs. The past few days were a blur of pain and tears. Rapunzel was inconsolable, not even Eugene could calm her down. Right now Rapunzel was asleep in the chair to the left and Eugene was sitting to Cassandra’s right. He’d been annoyingly quiet these past few days, no bad jokes or stupid comments. Cassandra hated it, but she also understood. “Eugene,” she whispered. His eyes moved to meet hers. “Yes?” “If I don’t—” “Don’t.” Eugene’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head. Cassandra smiled. “Scared?” Eugene didn’t know what to respond. “Just… In case,” she whispered. “If I don’t make it, tell my father I love him, alright?” Eugene nodded.

The sun was rising and neither Eugene nor Rapunzel had managed a word more than ‘To the Captain of Corona’s Royal Guard’. How do you tell a man his daughter’s dead? Sending a letter felt wrong. But waiting for them to get home rather than tell him immediately felt worse. “How could this happen?” Rapunzel didn’t have an answer. “Two days ago she was fighting our enemies and now she’s gone.” “Magic…” Rapunzel whispered, her fingers going through her hair. “I guess… I guess it doesn’t just bring stuff back… Sometimes it takes stuff away.” She took a deep breath as tears ran down her face. “Eugene… This is all my fault.” “No, no, I agreed with you, we all did except Cassandra.” “But she was right.” “But it’s not all your fault. I could have sided with her. But I… I didn’t. I never sided with Cass.”

#ask answered

[scienceoftheidiot]

Prompts? Snippets? Love while ao3 is down? Maybe some badass Ed after he lost his alchemy? Something self-indulgent?

Aaahh thank you !

So I don't write much Ed BUT I was actually planning to have exactly that (Ed being badass after he lost his alchemy) in a Royai fic. Except the fic is in two parts, and this would be the second part, and first part is not posted yet because not finished yet xD

Soooo I guess this counts as a snipper even if I wrote it just now (thanks!)

Spoiler warning for an upcoming fic of mine, I guess, I'll add more context under the cut, I'm sorry about this, I still hope you like this and Ed is badass enough 😁

So the fic is an AU where Roy stays blind after Promised Day, the stone doesn't work/Truth refuses to heal him. He's thus dismissed from the army, but is asked for his help (new powerful alchemy !) by Scar and Miles. Roy being Roy he jumps on the occasion (doesn't work that well of course but that's another story).

Anyway, second part, Roy asks for Ed's help : Ed knows alchemy, even if he can't practice it anymore, it'll be far easier for him to take soil samples and do reconnaissance alone, Ed is restless in Resembool and Roy doesn't want to show himself too much in Ishval. Except to actually use alchemy he needs to be there.

So here they are :

"Fuck, why did I agree to this."

"Change the record, Fullmetal. You've said this over fifty times since we boarded the train."

"Wouldn't have had to suffer the train if you'd let me drive."

"My car, my rules. Only one person gets to drive it, and it's not you. Now, where --"

"Well at least it's not you either."

"Thanks for that, Fullmetal. Where is --"

"Stop calling me that. That's my state alchemist name. No alchemy, no alchemist name. And above all, I am not a dog of the military anymore, Colonel."

"Well, me neither, so you can ditch the Colonel. Where's the damned field, Edward?"

"You're walking on it, Mustang."

"Ah."

Roy sighed and shook his head, then crouched, placing his hand on the ground. The dirt was dry, flaky. Not sandy -- that was a bit of improvement, at least -- but it did feel barren.

"How does it look?"

"Like nothing. Just dirt and stones, all the way until the cliff. It's half collapsed, by the way. Doesn't look like anything has ever grown on there."

Roy got up and brushed his pants.

"Registers say it was an orange tree orchard, before the war."

Finally, Fullmetal -- Edward, call him Edward -- fell silent.

For a short while.

"You're sure? There's not even a tree trunk."

"If you can read a map, then yeah. I guess the last bits were scavenged as firewood by survivors. Or else it was burnt to ashes."

"Did you --"

"I don't know. It's possible. I have been to these parts. But I've burnt a lot of places, and the name didn't ring a bell. Can't use visual cues to trigger my memory, so I can't tell you."

Ed stayed silent, until he growled.

"I don't understand how you can speak so lightly of this."

Roy shrugged.

"Thought you'd be used to that, after all this time. Now, shall we get to work, or ...?"

"Fine." Silence fell again for a little while, and Roy could have thought Ed was pouting, if he didn't hear him rummage through his things.

"So, about the samples I had collected during my last trip here. Your notes say the dirt lacks a great deal of accessible nitrogen and phosphorus to be able to grow anything. By the way, I'm glad you're using Hawkeye for this. Reading your chicken scratch has always been a struggle."

"Says the right handed boy who wrote his reports with his left. This was the fastest way. And you know her last name is not Hawkeye anymore, don't you?"

"I'm never calling her that. She's too good for it."

Roy scoffed.

"Gotta tell her that. Okay," he frowned. "What was in there, then?"

"Silica. Ammonia. Wait, doesn't ammonia contain --"

"You didn't read the notes before we came here, did you? It's about the availability. Most plants can't do anything with ammonia. Usually you'd try and plant specific ones who will make it into a useful nitrogen compound, using fungal symbiosis. But we don't have time for that, it'll take years. And those need a lot of good irrigation, which we don't have."

"You become a botanist, lately?"

"I've had a lot of free time. And my wife has the most beautiful reading voice."

Roy heard Ed choke on a groan, and smirked.

Ed ranted again : "You're the all powerful alchemist, now. Why not pull humidity straight from the air and water it this way?

"I'll do it to kickstart it, but this is not feasible long term. You want me to stay here and play sprinkler all summer? I hope you are bulletproof. Riza would never --"

As if on cue, something that was definitely a gunshot rang, and Roy was violently pushed to the ground. Roy coughed in the dirt, trying to push himself back up, only for Ed to crush him back down as new shots fired.

"Don't move, moron, we're being shot at, from up front. The cliff."

Fullmetal was half laying on him, his left leg crushing Roy's right. Damn was that automail heavy.

Adrenalin kicking in -- he realized he was getting back to his old self, panic being only a buzz at the back of his mind -- Roy thought fast. He was supposed to protect them both. He was the one who could. He wriggled to free his arms, clapped, and slammed his hands to the ground, hiding them behind a wall he hoped would be thick enough to stop bullets. And set in the right direction.

Gunfire kept raining against it.

"Can you see them?"

Roy was free of Edward's weight, and he heard him shuffle, close.

"Ishvalans. Seems like there's only two of them, and they look like kids."

"Yeah, I bet. They're wasting ammunition like crazy, there. Tell me. Where are they, precisely?"

"You're not using alchemy against them."

"Oh, sure, watch me."

"No killing on my watch."

"I never kill if I can avoid it. Not anymore."

"You're a blind flamethrower. I wouldn't bet on that. Don't move." Edward shouted "HEY! Hey, guys!"

He was answered by a new burst of gunfire.

"Fullmetal!" Roy frantically felt around until he caught Ed's trouser leg. "Stay put --"

"Let go of me! HEY GUYS!"

"For fuck's sake, Ed --"

"Shut! Up!" Edward walked away from him. "Guys, maybe you don't want to annoy us too much. See, my friend, here --"

"He's the flame alchemist!"

"He's killed our family, and now we're going to kill him! Give him to us and we'll let you go."

Roy's insides twisted. The voices sounded very young indeed. He was opening his mouth to answer, anything, when Ed kicked him in the ribs.

He was lucky he used his right foot. Ouch.

Fullmetal was right. Maybe it wasn't his time to speak.

"Haven't you heard your elders --"

"Fuck the elders. If they want to mingle with the enemy, fine for them. Death awaits the collaborators as well as the perpetrators."

"Kids, we --"

"We're not kids! Not anymore! We want his head, now!"

"You've heard of the Flame Alchemist, kids, alright. You even know what he looks like. You know who I am?"

"We don't care. Give him to us, now."

Ed's foot nudged Roy.

"When I hit you next," Edward spoke from between his teeth, "you clap and make me a weapon. Scary one. I just want to freak them out."

"Right," Roy got his hands ready, frenetically thinking about what he could pull from the ground that could make a good weapon, that would also be scary. Wait, if it needed to be scary, then he wouldn't need it to be a good weapon, right?

"Ever heard of the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

The kids didn't answer immediately.

"Prove it!"

Ed shoved his foot into Roy's ribs again, and Roy clapped, hearing the kid clap just a split second later. Time for the static to subdue, Ed's feet sounded against the dry soil, two steps. There was a high pitched sound as he picked the weapon Roy had thought to make.

"Wanna fight?"

"We have guns."

Their voice was less assured, now. Edward was walking, probably towards them.

"You think I can't deflect them with my all powerful alchemy? Look at this! I could probably slaughter you from here. You don't want to see how good I am."

Ah, Fullmetal knew how to brag, alright.

He seemingly kept walking, until a scurry of running feet sounded, running away from them.

"We'll come back when you're alone, Flame Alchemist. We'll catch you, tie you up and burn you!"

"It's all you deserve!"

The shouted threats were drawing away.

"Go help rebuilding, kids! Killing him won't solve anything!" Edward yelled at them.

Roy couldn't help but smile. Ed, too, was still a kid. A good one.

Silence fell again. Roy stayed put until Edward dragged his feet back next to him -- his left leg adding a characteristic sound he had learnt to notice.

"Obsidian? A fucking obsidian sword? You had nothing else?"

Ed grabbed Roy's hand and unceremoniously pulled him back on his feet.

The kid had strength.

"I wasn't working with much. What do you want me to do with silica --"

"Fuck, Colonel, you need to think outside the box. I could have pulled so much --"

"You're insane. If Riza learns about this --"

"I saved your fucking life, she will hear about it, believe me."

"Oh, and remind me who made the weapon?"

"It'd have broke as soon as I tried to slice anything with it! Come on!"

"You wanted to scare them. A black blade --"

"Whatever would have scared them." Ed's voice dropped. "They were barely fourteen. Not an age to hold guns."

"Rich, coming from you, Fullmetal," Roy said, his expression, he hoped, betraying his words.

"I never used guns," Edward snickered.

.

If you've read until here thank you ! Feel free to send me prompts while AO3 is down 🥲

#prompt #writing #fma #edward elric #roy mustang #sassydefendorflower #fanfic

[lexa-griffins]

yeah the mobster daughter au i mean 😭😭😭 sorry, is there a snippet?

No worries, I was just a little confused 😅

Here's a little snippet of what I have already written for it :D :

The whiskey burns in her throat and she detective grimaces at it. It’s the cheapest one they have and still far too expensive for her wallet so she forces herself to finish it, the barman giving her dirty looks as she does. 

Two dead cops, one house burnt to a crisp and a couple thrown to the river, all so clearly indicative of mafia activity it should be a open and shut case if there was any proof of it at all. Those are the reason she keeps coming back. She knows why the case ended up on her desk with few info on it, the little faith the department has on her abilities as a detective is not something new to her. So she keeps crossing into enemy territory every other night. Clarke lies to herself, says its so seek revenge for her fallen colleagues even if she barely knew their faces, justice for the couple whose lives were destroyed and tossed aside although she doesn't particularly care about people who were actively producing laced heroin and passing it on to already struggling addicts.

A big mass sits on the stool right next to her, forcing her legs to close as they make themselves at home. She stares at her watered down whiskey without much desire to finish it, pretending not to listen as a drink is ordered in a foreign language right by her side. She knows better than to start a fight here.

“Thought I had told you not to show your face here again Griffin.”

She signs at the bartender to bring her a second round, making it obvious to brute next to her she isn’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

“I’ve never been great at following orders Quint.” 

She takes the drink that’s place in front of her and forces another gulp of it down her throat. When she finally turns to meet his gaze he’s staring her down. He’s an intimidating fella, scars and tattoos that show where he belongs covering every inch of visible skin. By all means, Clarke should be terrified of him; he is twice her side and not afraid to kill someone with a batch with his bare hands, a rather gruesome aftermath to walk in on her first homicide case. But she isn’t. In fact, Clarke finds him pathetic, more brawl than brains, another pawn in a family that will dispose of him the moment he stops serving his purpose. 

“How’s your brother doing by the way?” she asks snarkily, knowing it’ll hit a nerve, “Hope the burns aren’t too bad.” 

Clarke grabs the glass intent on finishing with a swing and get out before shit hits the fan. He stares her with a murderous look in his eyes and takes the glass away from her before she can drink its content. The volume inside seems to have gone down but Clarke knows he wont try anything against her, not here. 

“You are very brave under her protection aren’t you detective?”

The accusation leaves a sour taste in her mouth. She’s not a pet but she knows she is seen as one inside these walls. It’s why she’s left mostly unbothered despite her job title, why all she gets are sneers  and empty threats.

“It’s getting late” with a pained gesture, Clarke pays for the two drinks in cash, making a point of not backing down in her stance when exiting her seat, “if you’d excuse.”

The cold hair hits her hard and Clarke takes a deep breath away from the smell of cigars and booze. Another trip that let no where. At this point she doesn't know whats she’s looking for or why she keeps coming back to Grounders. 

She’s nearing her bike, helmet secured under her arm when she reaches inside the pocket of her leather jacket only to find it empty of her keys and phone.

Shit.

“Looking for these Griffin?” 

Quint appears from the darkness of the alleyway where she parked, the keys of her bike dangling from one hand, gun in the other. Clarke takes a step back, putting distance between them as she tries to figure out an escape plan.

“You're not so brave now are you?”

A bullet passes by her, but not from Quints side. The shot goes right above her shoulder to enter Quint's heart. Fast and on target, a her trademark. 

Clarke rolls her eyes and fishes her keys from the dead man’s hands before turning to face her.

“You should not be out so late, love.”

#letter opened #its not all that exciting but we gotta start somewhere! #au: mobster daughter #my writing

[space-writes]

7 snippets tag

tagged by @oh-no-another-idea a while back, thank you! i'm going to leave this one open tag - feel free to tag me to share your snippets!

I'm going to go through the 7 recent files on my wip-list, and pull my favourite bits from each for this, just for a bit of variety today~

cut for length. below you'll find a mix of fic from BG3, War of the Spider Queen, The Legend of Drizzt, and Dungeons & Dragons

1 - drink me dry - (baldur's gate 3, Durge/Astarion)

And they both have missing pieces. Cazador—walking corpse, he thinks, undead is not dead, is not offal, is not carrion—took Astarion’s life and embedded a mystery in his skin as a display of mastery. Someone stole Rune’s life and left him with an empty head and a hungry knife and he doesn’t know why yet, but soon he’ll make that rotted little butler talk.

2 - light me up - (Obsession series, War of the Spider Queen/Forgotten Realms, Vizaeth/Rhylfein)

Rhylfein leans towards him, voice low. “Go on then, Thaezyr. Make me bleed.” Vizaeth’s pulse pounds in his temples. He can’t let go and he can’t look away, and whilst he’s trapped, Rhylfein takes the predator’s chance and darts his head forwards to capture Vizaeth’s mouth with his own.

3 - a delight to be around - (baldur's gate 3 , bard Tav/Gale/Astarion)

“Well, that’s sweet of you, but I don’t drink. So why don’t you two enjoy your wine and I’ll just go…find another bear or something.” Delight, never one to fall at the first, second, or even fifth hurdle, has already planned for this. They smile, and hold up their wrist. “I thought Gale and I could have wine, and you could drink as you normally do.” Gale makes a sort of strangled noise, like a cat choking on a hairball. Astarion’s eyebrows raise. He eyes Delight’s wrist, then shrugs. “Alright. I’m game if you are, Gale.”

4 - many hands - (the legend of drizzt, gromph/kimmuriel)

“My physical body possesses but one set of hands,” Kimmuriel said. “My mind may possess as many as it wishes.” “Four hands ought to be quite enough for anyone,” Gromph replied. No sign whatsoever of any amusement from the psionicist. Only a measured blink and then two more hands manifested at his shoulders; then another two at his ankles. “Eight might be called showy, my teacher.” “Do you protest because a mage hand provides you with but one arcane limb? Or because you fear what I might do with more?”

5 - untitled praise kink breakdown fic - (Obsession series, War of the Spider Queen/Forgotten Realms, Vizaeth/Rhylfein)

“Hey, shh, come here.” Rhylfein is still stroking his hair. He’d be disgusted if he knew how Vizaeth got it. He’s not good, he’s not perfect, he’s not beautiful; he’s a freak. A patchwork of scars and necromancy posing as a boy.

6 - untitled degradation kink fic - (Obsession series, War of the Spider Queen/Forgotten Realms, Vizaeth/Rhylfein)

He doesn’t like being on top like this, but he likes how Rhylfein’s hair fans out around his head, a tangle of red. He’s not going to tell him that—he’s learned quickly how little Rhylfein enjoys compliments. For whatever reason, anything that would make Vizaeth squirm with suppressed pleasure make Rhylfein recoil in disgust.

7 - sacrificium - (Dark Ascendance campaign fic, experimental BBEG OC backstory fic)

the magic that blooms with her adolesence is unsightly. untrained, unwanted, unpredictable—burnt hands, broken plates and shattered windows. matron shouts and sisters sneer and zeerith—magicless, forgotten—zeerith salves her burns and repairs the plates and sweeps the glass. he has nothing, and what she has is not worth having, so together they are less than any t’sonri should be.

#writeblr #tag games #7 snippets tag #fanfiction #snippets #wip #fic wip #bg3 fic #dnd fic #oc fic #obsession fic blogging #c: rune #c: delight #c: vizaeth thaezyr #c: rhylfein dyrr #c: elvrae t'sonri #these are like 90% dialogue i have a problem #(it's not a problem i love dialogue) #i should finish the elvrae fic i miss her

[her-devils-advocate]

Snippets from a domestic summer. (Part 1)

♥. Genre: Fluff

♥. pairings: Nate Sewell / Female Detective (Named)

♥. content warnings: None

♥. notes: I have really been wanting to do a small-ish fic where its just Nate and my detective having purple tongues, despite having a red and blue iced slushy to themselves.

♥. Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47590726/chapters/119943328

♥. Word count: 1,644

Nate and Valerie walk hand in hand, the midday sun glaring down on them as the birds overhead swoop and soar, doing their best to scout for lunch that could be plucked out of the hands of an unexpecting victim. 

The gentle breeze catches the ends of his dark hair, now much longer than when she had first met him, causing the styled back strands to flutter behind him. Further convincing her that he would make a more than decent supermodel if he were to ever get bored of the agent life. Her own hair behaving far less well in the breeze, the strands which had broken loose from her braid are now flying around her face far less gracefully than she would like. She can only hope that the olive green summer dress, which had been dragged out from the dark corner of her wardrobe, has more decorum.

The duo slowly make their way to Haley's bakery, eager to try the new summer menu that she had been excitedly discussing all spring. The two of them needed very little convincing to try her new line of slushies, anything to get some relief after a day braving the unusually high temperatures overtaking Wayhaven as of late, something Mason had yet to stop grumbling about from the safety of the darkest and coldest shadow in the warehouse.

"How are you holding up?" She tilts her head up to look him over, checking for any signs of discomfort, only to be met with a smile so bright that it could put the sun to shame.

"I'm alright, very hot but it's worth the time spent if it means I get to be in your company." He smirks down at her before a serious expression takes over his features. "Though I'm more worried about you getting burnt. You didn't put on any sun cream before we left."

"I'll be fine, we’re almost there so we won't be out here for much longer! By the time we start heading back home to the warehouse, it will be much cooler." She gives a light-hearted roll of her eyes at his worry, missing the way he beams down at her, pure adoration shining in his eyes.

"You said 'home'."

Her face grows hot, hoping that it isn’t too late to take her words back and blame the growing blush on a sunburn. 

"I guess I did say that, didn’t I? It would make sense that I consider that place a home now, especially with how often I'm there and all." 

“It warms my heart to hear that.” He brings their joined hands to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of hers before dropping them once more in favour of swinging them as they walk, earning him multiple giggles from the woman beside him as he does.

They fall into a comfortable quiet as they finish the journey to the bakery, making sure to walk within the cool shade whenever they get the chance. The closer they get, the stronger the enticing scent of freshly baked bread becomes as it flows out to greet them.

The small bell above the door chimes as Nate opens it, gesturing for Val to enter first with a grin. As they enter the brightly lit bakery, the duo is instantly greeted by the ever cheerful Haley, watching them with a fond, knowing smile.

“Good evening Val, Agent Sewell! Here to try my newest menu?” Her light voice glides through the stifling heat, earning her a small wave from the detective. 

“Hey Haley, when we heard that those slushies were finally available, we found it hard to stay away. Especially before we melted under that sun!”

Haley chuckles as she takes their orders, one strawberry and one blueberry. She lingers in front of the fan carefully perched upon a stool behind the counter for a moment before moving to make the drinks, humming a bright tune as she does. 

While waiting for the order, Nate idly plays with Val’s hands. He traces light patterns upon the backs of them before his hand begins to wander up her arms, causing a flurry of chills to shoot throughout her as she gently swats at his own arm.

They collect their drinks, giving their thanks to Haley as they reluctantly leave their own spot within the fans' range, mentally preparing themselves to brave the sun once more.

“At least we now have something to help cool us down.” As if to emphasise her point, Val stops sipping at her strawberry flavoured slushy in favour of pressing it against her forehead, sighing as the cold temperature brings relief to her burning skin. 

Nate, on the other hand, is much more focused on the way the condensation of the drink slides onto her skin, before travelling down her cheek and dropping to continue its journey across her neck. His eyes narrow onto the rogue drop of water as he takes a sip of his own blueberry slushy, hoping to distract himself from the urge to kiss it away.

Noticing the intense gaze aimed towards her, she flashes him a playful smirk before joining their hands together once more. Dragging him back in the direction of the warehouse before the others send out a search party to ruin their fun, under the guise of not wanting them to forget about the “very important” meeting taking place that evening with Agent Michaelis.

By the time they reach the forest where the team resides within, the scorching sun had begun to set, letting the temperature cool as their drinks begin to grow warm. With a sad sigh, Val wiggles her straw around, trying to find remnants of ice within the bright red liquid as she looks up at him with a faux pout.

“It melted…” 

“Yes, love. Ice tends to do that.” He tries to stifle a chuckle as he takes another sip of his drink, grimacing at the much warmer temperature which brings out the artificial flavouring that the ice had masked. 

Abandoning his drink, he smirks down at her as an idea crosses his mind. He slowly backs her up against a tree as she raises an eyebrow up at him, happily following his lead. Part curious, part excited by the look that had been shining within his eyes the moment they had left the bakery.

Before she gets the chance to open her mouth to question him, he pulls her close, trailing soft kisses across her jaw, prompting a breathy laugh from the woman as his light stubble tickles her in the process. He raises his arms to wrap around her as she melts into his touch with a sigh. With one slender finger, he tilts her head up so that his lips could finally meet hers. 

His free hand rests dangerously low on her back as she moans into the kiss, bringing her own hand to tangle within his hair and granting him access as his tongue collides with hers, sending a shockingly strong flutter to her heart, a flutter she will never get used to, no matter how many kisses they share.

He hums against her as she tries to press herself even closer to him, only to reluctantly pull away as their phones both begin to buzz within his pockets. Not even needing to check the messages to know the contents and their sender.

Val rises onto the tips of her toes with a chuckle, carefully stroking back his soft strands of hair which she had caused to become dishevelled, trying to gain some composure herself before they attend the meeting that they were now fashionably late for.

Unit Bravo are scattered around the living room, Mason impatiently tapping at his phone while Adam continues to glare at the door, as if it could summon the tardy members. Felix begins to whistle a cheerful tune, only to be silenced by the flying pillow sent his way by the less-than-thrilled Mason, his phone abandoned as his lighter takes its place within his hands.

Rebecca lets out a long sigh before turning to the Unit Leader, her eyebrows pulling together as she checks her watch. Before she gets the chance to comment on the time, the door swings open.

“About fucking time.” Mason huffs, tendrils of smoke punctuating his annoyance as he does.

The couple both flash the group an apologetic smile before Val turns to playfully stick her tongue out at Mason, earning her a scoff of laughter from the vampire and an eye roll from Rebecca, less than amused by her daughter's behaviour as she tries to ignore the growing nostalgia that the sight causes. Adam bristles for a moment, glancing warily between the pair as Felix’s natural smile grows into a full blown smirk. 

He slides up between the two, throwing his arms over their shoulders as he looks down at the drinks in their hands, ignoring the confused glances being thrown at him from around the room.

“Sooo…wanna explain why your tongue is purple despite the red drink in your hand, Val?”

The room falls silent, all eyes falling onto the trio still standing in the doorway as Nate shoots Felix a pleading look, hoping to silence any more highly unneeded comments made at their expense. Not caring for his pleas, Mason takes advantage of the silence before Felix has the chance.

“Looks like it pairs perfectly with the blue drink in Nate’s hand.” He shrugs half-heartedly at them. “Doesn’t take much to figure out the reason for your lateness.”

Two, perfectly matching exasperated sighs interrupt any further comments as Rebecca loudly drops the files onto the dark wood of the coffee table, a frown on her face despite the amusement that shines in her icy blue eyes. “Now that we are all here, can we please get on with the meeting?”

#♥. writing #♥. Valerie #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #nate sewell #detective x nate #female detective x nate #twc mason #twc felix #twc adam #unit bravo

[bardigrade]

happy birthday amber!!

(a little birthday lumiamber snippet for my best girl)

More under the cut :>

“Amber?”

The smell of something burnt coming from deep within the house sends a sense of panic through Lumine. She had hoped that because it was a certain Outrider’s birthday, she would let Lumine surprise her with dinner. 

It appeared there was no such luck. 

“Amber!” Lumine tries again, moving quickly through the front hallway to the kitchen. 

“Don’t come in!” Amber yells back. 

Lumine stops in her tracks, frozen in the middle of the hallway. She can’t quite see into the kitchen, only able to note that the lights were on and the sound of dishes and pots and pans clanging. Her mind races, what was it? Was there something dangerous in the kitchen? Was Amber in danger? Was she being held hostage?

Such thoughts spur Lumine into action, sliding into the kitchen with her sword drawn-

Amber yelps in surprise as Lumine appears. 

The kitchen is devoid of another presence, or fire, or anything else that wasn’t supposed to be in the kitchen. 

“Lumine!” Amber huffs, hands on her hips. “I told you not to come in!”

She’s wearing what was once a white bunny apron, now covered in flour and chocolate — the ears at the top flop over pathetically, weighed down by the mess. 

Actually, the entire kitchen looks like a bakery exploded. Flour coats most surfaces, and a handful of broken eggshells lay in a pile next to the sink. Various pots and pans and bowls and other cooking implements are crammed into the still running sink, each one sticky with what appears to be a chocolate batter. In the center of it all, is a lopsided, already falling in on itself, chocolate cake. 

The cake looks like it's bleeding chocolate, with the way that the melting frosting is running down the sides in a sticky syrup. 

“I thought you were in danger,” Lumine apologizes. She comes around the side of the kitchen counter, careful to avoid any of the mess. 

“I’m at home,” Amber teases. “How could I be in danger?” 

“Danger of being covered in flour,” Lumine teases back. She trails a finger through the thick layer of flour on the counter and boops Amber on the nose with it. 

“Hey!” Amber protests, wiping at the flour. 

She sneezes.

Adorable. 

How could someone sneeze so adorably?

“What are you making?” Lumine says, as she looks over the mess. 

“A cake.”

“It’s your birthday, you know. You’re not supposed to make the cake.”

“I know,” Amber sighs dramatically. “But I wanted to make you something too, and what’s better than making a cake and getting to share it with the person you love?”

“Wow, you love me? That’s pretty gay of you.” 

“Lumine, we’re literally married.”

“Yes, and I love it when you remind me.” Lumine smiles broadly. “Love you.” She leans in for a quick kiss and gets mostly flour.

Breaded Amber.

“Love you too,” Amber grumbles. She’s smiling too, too happy to be upset. 

“Why don’t you go take a shower while I finish cleaning up here. Then we can go to the Good Hunter for dinner?”

“Good Hunter! Sticky honey roast!” Amber cheers, hurriedly untying the apron and racing off to wash up.

Lumine laughs. “Oh, one more thing!” 

Amber screeches to a halt in the hallway, peeking her head back around the corner. 

“Happy birthday, Amber.”

#happy birthday amber! #lumiamber #my wrotes #my scribbles #sorry its not a full fic amber #but i impressed myself writing 555 words in 15 minutes #genshin impact

[gracelesslady23]

Sirius turned girl !!

Thanks for your ask!!

Here is a snippet I posted to the prongsfoot server for that one :)

(NSFW under the cut)

“This is really doing it for you, huh?”

“Shut up,” James grumbled. “It’s not my fault you make a strangely pretty girl.”

Sirius’s grin widened. “Don’t undersell it, Prongs. I am downright sexy as a girl.”

Unable to refute it, James threw his head back against the headboard with a dull thunk.

“You know,” Sirius said after a long pause, “we could always use this situation to our advantage…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You talked my ear off all summer about how even Pete had more experience with the ladies than you. Well, here’s your chance.”

James stared at her blankly, Sirius couldn’t possibly be suggesting what it sounded like she was suggesting.

“After today Pomfrey is definitely going to undo the spell tomorrow. We only have tonight. So come on Potter, buck up.”

And oh fuck, Sirius definitely was suggesting what James thought she was.

The part of James that had been unable to take his eyes of Sirius all day was ready to jump in consequences be damned. But although James’s lust riddled brain failed to come up with specifics, he was sure there would be consequences to jumping into bed with his temporarily-female best friend. Bad ones. Really bad ones.

“Here,” Sirius said.

Never one to shy away from a challenge, Sirius drew her too large pyjama shirt over her head and threw it onto the ground beside the bed. Her long dark hair bounced and settled around her bare shoulders. James’ mouth went dry, she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Erm,” James quickly looked away. “I…”

“You’re allowed to look, Prongs,” Sirius said amused. “Think of it this way, they’re not even really mine.”

Sirius did have a point. So, James did look. They were even more perfect than James had been trying not to imagine for half the day.

“Go on,” Sirius goaded after a moment. “We might as well give them a test run.”

The blood in James’ veins rushed southwards so quickly he felt lightheaded with it.

James wiped his clammy, slightly shaking hands on his pyjama bottoms before reaching over and cupping one perfect breast in each hand. They were warm and divinely soft. James shifted his hands slightly to feel their weight in his palm and bit back a moan.

“Can I…?”

“Anything you want.”

James glanced up, Sirius looked eager and dangerous. James couldn’t back down now even if he wanted too.

He swiped a thumb over the right beast and James’s arousal throbbed in his pants. Emboldened by Sirius’s lack of complaint he took one nipple and rolled it in between his forefinger and thumb.

Sirius made a strange choked noise. James withdrew his hands as if they’d been burnt.

“Sorry,” he said immediately. “Did I hurt you?”

Sirius looked at him, her beautiful eyes, that James unfortunately couldn’t help noticing had not been changed with the spell, blown wide.

“No,” she said, shifting slightly on his bed. “The opposite actually.”

James frowned.

“It felt, erm –” Sirius cleared her throat. “– better than I was expecting.”

A cocky grin crept over James’s features. “I guess I’m just a natural.”

#prongsfoot #hp #snippet #my fic #ask game

[beatriceeverytuesday]

For the ask game: 8. Buffy/Anya Neighbors AU - 👀👀👀!! YES?!?!!! 28. if you're lonely, come be lonely with me - I love this title, very curious who/what it could be about 😄

also can I just say I am impressed at the amount of things you've started and ideas you have, looking forward to checking out more of your fics when I can!

Send me an ask with a title that intrigues you from my list of wip's and I'll tell you something about it or post a snippet from it.

Buffy/Anya Neighbors AU:

“What do you think?” Buffy asks, despite already knowing the answer. “Is it salvageable?” Anya steps closer and looks at the charred mess cooling on the baking sheet on the stovetop. “Maybe I could cut off the burnt pieces and he’d never even know?” Buffy suggests, digging in the drawers for a knife.

“If you’re trying to seduce him with your womanly prowess, you’re definitely going to fail,” Anya says bluntly.

No one is trying to seduce anyone else, but apparently that concept isn’t getting through to Anya anytime soon, so Buffy opts to ignore her. “I’m doomed,” Buffy agrees. She sinks to the ground with her back to the kitchen cabinets, not caring that she’s being pathetic in front of Anya. Anya just witnessed Buffy nearly set her kitchen on fire. After that, sitting on the floor hardly counts as humiliating. “I just wanted…” Buffy doesn’t know where she was going with that, exactly, so she doesn't finish her thought. Buffy wanted not only a boyfriend, but to not be so alone anymore. To find someone to spend her evenings with, and have that turn into nights and mornings as well. To have someone to listen to her hopes and dreams, her fears and insecurities. She wants someone to spend her life with, and she doesn’t understand why finding him is proving to be so hard.

“Well, you’ll just have to seduce him with your looks instead,” Anya says, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter. “Which will be easy since you’re very attractive,” she adds simply, like she’s making a casual observation of a fact, making a sad Buffy on the floor feel a lot better about herself.

if you're lonely, come be lonely with me actually already has two chapters up on AO3! The last four on my list of wip's are things I've already posted at least the first chapter of. I kinda included them in case any of my readers wanted a peek at a future chapter and probably should have specified - sorry! Feel free to send in another ask if this fic doesn't interest you, or if you just want to know more!

Summary: On her first day at Sunnydale High, Buffy befriends a student she witnesses being bullied by the most popular girl in school. Cordelia Chase used to be popular as well, until Harmony Kendall threw her out of the group. Cordelia isn’t sharing why she was evicted, but that’s understandable. Buffy has stuff she isn’t sharing either, like her secret identity as a slayer, or the fact that she can’t seem to stop staring at Cordelia’s lips.

And, even though you haven't read the other chapters, no reason you can't get a little snippet of something not-yet-posted! Here you go:

There’s a shuffling sound that Buffy realizes is Cordelia getting on the ground in front of her. There are light touches on Buffy’s shins, her hands, her knees, everywhere Cordelia can reach with Buffy all curled up and crouched like this, almost as if she’s checking Buffy for injuries. Cordelia cups Buffy’s face in her hands next, tilting her chin upwards, probably so she can get a good look. Buffy scrunches her eyes shut tighter. Thumbs sweep gently across Buffy’s cheeks. “You’re crying,” Cordelia announces, more statement than question.

“Yeah,” Buffy rasps, because she can’t come up with anything else to say. She doesn’t know how to explain that while she is still scared, that emotion is taking a backseat to the ones Cordelia is bringing to the forefront, drawing them out of Buffy with the gentleness of her hands on Buffy’s cheeks. She doesn’t know how to explain that now she’s crying more out of relief than anything else. Buffy leans into Cordelia's touch the same way sunflowers lean toward the warmth of the sun, toward what keeps them happy and healthy, toward what gives them the strength to keep going another day.

Thank you for your compliments about my list of wip's! Honestly I think it's representative not only of all my ideas but also of my inability to focus long enough to finish a single fic and my nervousness about posting certain ideas I have haha. I hope you enjoyed!

#buffy x anya #coffy #buffy summers #anya jenkins #cordelia chase #btvs #thank you for the ask!! #ask game

[miracle-sham]

Phoenix Villains Snippets.

| {MGI Civil War 3 Event} |

| {Play With Fire} |

———

| Word Count: 853. |

———

Marinette watched as the fire danced between her fingers and around her hand as if playing with her. It seemed so harmless like this, so different to roaring inferno burning the village around her to the ground.

This is what they deserved for hanging her parents under the accusation that they had set their own bakery alight. As if they would ever so recklessly endanger their sole livelihoods like that? It was sickening.

Her eyes, usually such a clear, crystal blue, gleamed gold in the lights of the flames. Why shouldn't she burn this place to the ground, and rejoice in the ashes? They'd taken everything from her. Her parents, her livelihood, her future...

Why shouldn't she take away theirs? There were no innocents in this. No one had said anything as the guards held her back, as she screamed and sobbed as two kind, gentle people gasped and choked for air.

It hadn't been a beheading. It hadn't been quick. Marinette wondered who pulled the strings to make it that way.

She'd burn them. The scent of charred skin was already becoming familiar enough.

Ashes choked the air. Good. They deserved to know how her parents had felt, desperate for air yet unable to breathe.

The crackling of bodies and buildings burning was loud, but not loud enough to disguise the crunch of soft footsteps against death baked soil, followed by the near silent swish of a cape.

“You're here to stop me.” She muttered hollowly, gaze not wandering from her flickering flames.

“What makes you think that?” An unfamiliar accent responded. “Maybe I'm here to join you.”

She snorted. “You're a Bat. Are you not? Bats stop that which they believe to be injustices.”

He chuckled. Against her will, she turned to look at him.

Poison-green eyes gleamed in the roaring fire's light. ... Perhaps this one was on her side. Still.

Best to make sure.

A man stumbled out of the wreckage, eyes wild, nearly out of his mind from pain.

"Please," he said, "Please save me. I can't -- I'm not -- I'm a good man, I promise, please --"

Marinette tilted her head at him. "Save you, hm?"

The Bat brushed ashes off his shoulder and nodded his head at her, as if to say, 'Go on.'

"Who saved my family?" she asked the man, and saw no recognition in his eyes. "Who saved Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng?"

"Make it stop!" the man pleaded again. Marinette tsked and threaded a soothing hand through his hair.

He sobbed, going lax under her hand.

She tightened her grip and yanked his head up. "Wrong answer."

The scent of burnt hair and charred, cooking flesh filled the air.

"Efficient," the Bat said, as she tossed the body to the ground. "Screaming was a little inconvenient, though."

Marinette gestured at the carnage around her. "Convenience wasn't exactly my goal, here."

He snorted. "Sure, it's not now. But later? It will be."

Sending a glance at him through the corner of one eye, she caused the fire to ripple and writhe around her hand and to rise from the ground, licking at the air around her boots. Casting her in a brilliantly searing glow.

She hummed, closing her eyes for a brief moment as she breathed in the scent of smoke. “And, what do you exactly propose that later will require my goal to change to one of convenience?”

The Bat sauntered closer. “Awww, c'mon. Don't tell me this is your one and only grand plan? To burn one little village to the ground and then what? Let yourself get captured by a Bat?”

“You sound so certain that I wouldn't fight back.” She pointed out. “And yet you saw what I just did to the waste of life.”

“You didn't immediately try to attack me.” The Bat countered.

Marinette hummed.

“I could help you, if you were to so wish it.” The Bat offered, a teasing lilt to his tone, eyes glimmering not unlike hers as he watched the flames swirling around her.

“I have other targets.” She admitted. “Not everyone responsible was here tonight.”

“Then,” The Bat started, moving even closer, unphased by the risk of burning, “let's enjoy tonight, the other Bats, Ladybug and Batgirl specifically, won't arrive til overmorrow at the earliest. Afterwards, we can begin making moves towards our next targets.”

She nodded, lips uncurling into a feral grin. “That sounds a wonderful plan.”

The Bat bowed. “The name's Jason.”

“Marinette but I think Phoenix is a little more fitting for the both of us now, don't you think.” She answered.

“Oh, I agree.” He reached one gloved hand out towards her. “To the start of a beautiful alliance.”

“To the start indeed.” Marinette clasped his hand, flames dancing and playing harmless around them both.

———

"What," Steph said, "The fuck."

She was staring at a heart burned into the ground. A perfectly-shaped, coal-black heart. That was somehow gouged into the cobblestone road.

Cass hummed. "Not natural, Ladybug" she said.

Steph spluttered. "Not -- not -- NO DUH! Batgirl! What -- "Cass's giggle cut her off. Steph pouted.

"Unfair," she mumbled, "You're so mean to me."

———

| @writingsnippetsthatneverupdate | | @maribat-get-in |

#Maribat #Jasonette #MGI #M?GI Civil War 3 #Maribat? Get In! #JasMari #MariJay #Marinette x Jason #Jason x Marinette #MGICivilWar3 #MGI Civil War 2023 #Luck's a Ladybug #Ba(d)t Bitches #Collab #Sham's Posts #Sham's Writing #Saf's Writing