#Bonus snippets:

[toyouhellohowareyou]

Hey, just wanted to say I read the snippets of your completionist fic and it's a hilarious concept I absolutely love it so if you have any more I'd love to read them if not that's perfectly fine I understand

So the impression I've gotten from the response to these snippets is that I need to put this back on the active WIP list in the new year 😅

Thanks for your interest ❤️

Ask and you shall receive

Legend wonders, as he and Fable step out of the portal and take in the scene, if they’re all a bit dramatic. If this repeating cycle of destiny and conflict tied to his soul, and the royal bloodline, and the being that is Ganon shapes them on a deeper level than he realised.

It’s a horrifying insight into himself that he truly didn’t need.

Because here and now a princess stands trapped in a pink crystal. (An old classic for imprisoning princesses, sages, and oracles.)

Here and now a Hero in green steps through the door.

Here and now Ganondorf, the man who will become Ganon, scourge of his era, blight upon his land, is PLAYING A FUCKING PIPE ORGAN to set the ambiance.

It makes Legend reflect on if he would ever be that extra and the horrific realisation is ‘…yeah, maybe?’

He’s named himself ‘Legend’ after all.

[jakeperalta]

I am deeply obsessed with the manuscript as the closing track of the anthology. returning to that first big life altering heartbreak, the one that inspired some of the most acclaimed and beloved work of her career, but it's a distant past now and it's almost as though it happened to someone else. and then, in the wake of all the intense loss and turbulence that the past two hours have documented, she knows what the agony was for. because just like all that now remains of that past relationship is the art that came out of it — including all too well, a song that was changed for her over the years into something beautiful and joyful — one day all that will remain of this period will be this manuscript, this album and all its feelings that eventually won't even be hers anymore but will belong to her past self and to its future listeners.

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

Silvio really became the "do you need a dog? I can bark" meme ... we've come full circle now 🤭

[henrykudhirai]

tenth doctor pt 2 [pt 1 here]

taylor swift ft the civil wars (safe & sound), husborth, queen ('39), melissa border (problem area), langston hughes (I loved my friend), daphne du maurier (rebecca), michael kinnucan (the gods show up), dylan thomas (do not go gentle into that good night)

[thepenultimateword]

Second Secret Santa

There were some extenuating circumstances with one of the secret Santas, so I got this lovely bonus prompt. This is for @lili-loves-whump. I'm so so sorry, it's late. I've been traveling so I've just been writing when I can. I hope you like it!

"Hero x Villain comfort after villain has been hurt or panicked or smth."

Villain could barely breathe. Every time they inhaled, they choked, phantom fingers digging hard into their larynx. No matter how much they rubbed away Supervillain's touch, the murderous pressure lingered.

"Hiding in our hole today, are we?"

Villain gave a little leap, whipping around so fast they knocked their shoulder against the wall. They gasped, clutching it as they squinted at the familiar face in the doorway.

Hero.

How did they manage to make ever word out of their mouth condescending? Did they practice? Drawl sarcasms into the mirror until they hurt their own feelings?

Villain curled tighter against the wall. "Just get out."

"What's up with your voice?"

Great. They'd hoped the squeak wasn’t too noticeable, but apparently there was no hiding it.

"Just a little under the weather," Villain muttered. "So you can go. There's nothing going on today. No plans, no fight. You wasted the trip."

Hero crossed the room in three strides, the back of their large hand smoothly transferring from their side to Villain's forehead.

Villain fell back on their hands. "W-what are you doing?"

"No fever," Hero said. But you are a little flush--" They froze, hard eyes sliding from Villain's face to their throat. "What. Is. That?"

Villain quickly crossed their arms over the bare skin, but Hero snatched their hands away, wrapping a supernaturally strong arm around them to pin both limbs at their sides. Ironically, even while gruff they were more careful than Supervillain. Their hold was firm, but it didn't hurt.

Hero's free hand ghosted the bruises marring Villain's throat. Villain flinched violently, and Hero's hand moved back a couple inches.

"Finger marks," Hero said matter-of-factly. Villain hadn't had a chance to look at the bruises yet--they'd only had time to run and hide--but it must have been obvious. "Who did this?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I'm asking," Hero said, furrowing their brow.

"Ah, and you're a hero? Again, why does it matter? Why do you care?" Their voice rose a little with each word and their throat ached even more.

Hero clenched their jaw. Slowly their arm slid off Villain's waist, and they stepped back. Strangely enough the strength wrapped around them had been almost...in some strange way...comforting. At least, it had lowered their heartbeat a little. They were a little reluctant for the pressure to let up so soon.

"Believe it or not," Hero said. "I'd rather have you behind bars than find you dead in an alley."

"Believe it or not," Villain echoed. "I couldn't care less for your preferences. And I can take care of myself."

"You have handprints on your neck. Obviously you can't."

"It was a disagreement. That's all."

Hero narrowed their eyes. "Anithero...Other Hero...Thief...Supervillain?"

Villain flinched.

"Ah ha!" Hero whipped toward the door, pushing their fluttering cape back over their shoulder.

"No!" Villain's voice grated painfully.

Hero swept out the door, climbing out the window and onto the fire escape.

"Hero, no!" Villain caught the end of Hero's cape just before they leaped over the edge.

Hero turned on them, that stupid arrogant face staring down at them with that usual condescending look. Like they couldn't believe Villain was even wasting their time with an argument.

"Don't. If Supervillain thought I told you... If they thought I was consorting with heroes at all..."

Villain couldn't breathe. They gasped in a couple useless breaths, but their lungs still burned and their vision swayer.

Hero clapped a hand on Villain's shoulders, bending close so their concrete gaze loomed right overhead, cementing them to the spot.

"I don't plan on leaving them alive."

The air rushed in all at once.

Hero unfolded Villain's fingers from their cape and stepped up onto the fire escape railing.

"Why?" Villain said, blinking after them. "We're enemies. Not even the flirty kind. Just plain old beat each other up and hate each other enemies."

"Maybe you just haven't caught on," Hero said.

Villain flushed, and Hero grinned smugly. Though after a moment their expression dropped into something more serious. "I don't know. Even if we're not on good terms...feels wrong to let it happen." They looked away quickly. Almost as if, for once, they were afraid of what Villain might read in their eyes. "I'll be back once its over."

With that Hero took off into the air, disappearing into the glare of the sun.

True to their word, they returned two hours later, splattered in blood and swinging a plastic grocery sack full of vanilla ice cream, cold packs, and ginger tea in their fist.

Their relationship was quite a bit different after that.

[white-weasel]

Missed opportunity for the people at Twisted Pictures to release Bobby Dagen’s promotional DVD as bonus content similar to Full Disclosure Report or the Scott Tibbs Documentary

[burning-academia-if]

[11-17-20XX]

The last thing Lars realized, during the summer before his sophomore year, was that his uncle was serious. Clearly, Uncle Harvey had no idea how the hell to be a parent. He forgot about dinner and coming home at night, or he'd show up at school, still half asleep, after the few fights Lars had gotten in to, shrugging his shoulders like he couldn't be damned despite the other fuming parent.

Yet, he could read Lars like a book. Everything he refused to say, Harvey just knew. After his first official high school fight, he'd handed Lars an axe and told him to go chop some wood to get the energy out. Lars had looked at him like he'd lost his mind yet ended up going at it until his fingers were raw. When Lars had felt the hint of a cold, the cabinets were suddenly stocked with medicine. When the unquiet of the dead reached for him, his uncle would drag him away, telling him looking only gave them power.

[ineadhyn]

Bg3 has been out for over a year and since there are a lot of new mice adoring The Devil You Know, I'd like to invite you to our cozy

Raphael Discord server

A server for Raphael and Haarlep simping with a section for archdevil adoration, nsfw stuff and rp-channels. We also do vc hangouts and game nights.

The server is run by me, @dmagedgoods and @chaosteddybear. We are a chill and judgement free place, oc-friendly and keep fandom drama and especially twitter drama out.

See u there!

(Edit: added the link)

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

TTD - Bonus scene

(It's a small thing, but I thought you'd like some fluff in these trying times.)

*

“Witness, if you will, a creature destroyed the agonies of illness. Alas, once a powerful monster threatening all humanity, now they stand here helpless, struck by the hand of fate, slowly dying of congestion, with no flowers at their feet but a bunch of used handkerchiefs.”

Hero, who walked through the living room, carrying a warm bowl, gave their expert roommate opinion:

“Bullshit. You have a cold. Your nose is barely red.”

Villain didn’t even give them a look. Clenching their dark robe, their hand pressed on their heart, they kept on:

“Truly a miserable fate for someone who was destined to rule the world. Darkness is closing in-”

“That’s literally your power. You control your shadow...oh, why am I debating with you.”

It had been two days that Villain had that fateful cold, but if you’d asked Hero, it seemed like an eternity and a half. Not only Villain had to nest into the living room’s couch because their own room was full of scraps of metal and wood for their current invention – whatever that was – but they were bored.

That meant incessant monologues. Long, convoluted monologues. Never ending monologues on their couch that was losing its shape slowly but surely.

When Hero was going back home, after a long day of helping citizens and affronting their boss, they had to hear about the agonies of having a common cold and oh, how the mighty had fallen. Hero had never felt specially mighty themself, but sometimes they wondered if murder in these circumstances was not regarded as legitimate defense.

Was a voice extinction too much to ask?

They bit their lip and held out the bowl to their roommate. Two skinny hands held it and a yelp was heard:

“It’s hot!”

Hero collapsed on a chair, unfolding a blanket nearby:

“As hot as the fiery flames of hell. Or something.”

An audible growl emerged from the black mist that clouded their roommate, but in Hero’s book, that was a win.

They fell asleep, the blanket on their lap. No monologue woke them.

*

Check the These Two Dorks Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with this Hero and Villain. This is how they met and now they’re roommates.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[night-market-if]

Night Market After Dark

Announcing the Night Market After Dark. I will be following an NSFW ABC prompt and posting a short snippet of each RO on the Velvet Guard tier of my patreon.

This month the prompt is? After Sex

🪷✨🪷✨ If you want to support me 🪷 ✨🪷✨ 

🌿 Free Demo 🌿Book 1 Steam🌿Book 1 Itch.io🌿🌿 Patreon 🌿Discord🌿FAQS🌿

[michelle-manips]

Bonnie was in search of a certain big bad hybrid. He had big plans for Elena that the Salvatore brothers didn't agree with. Big shocker there, Bonnie thought to herself as she arrived at the Mikaelson mansion. It's not like she wanted to be at the Mikaelson's right now, but she didn't have a choice, or rather she wasn't given a choice.

The Salvatores volunteered her for the job because she was Elena's best friend and therefore it was her duty to protect Elena. That was how Damon had put it anyway. As if she didn't have enough on her plate already. But she couldn't say no, not when it came to Elena. 

What job you may ask? Well, it was simple, she had to convince Klaus to see things their way and agree to the Salvatore brothers' terms. In other words, she was screwed because there was no way in hell Klaus would agree.

She pulled up to the imposing gate, rolling her eyes at the absurdity of it all. It was a long shot, but Bonnie had no choice but to try. She pressed the button and waited for the gate to open, driving up to the mansion and parking her Prius amongst the luxurious cars already there.

With a heavy sigh, she made her way to the front door and knocked, her frustration growing with each passing second. Why did she always get dragged into the Salvatores' drama? They owed her big time for all the times she saved their sorry asses. Putting on her game face, Bonnie let herself in, realizing that no one was there to greet her.

The mansion felt eerily quiet and empty, with only the sound of her footsteps echoing through the grand foyer. The last time she remembered being in the mansion was when she unlinked the Mikaelson siblings.

She tensed, her senses on high alert as she cautiously made her way through the halls. Despite the fact that they were all powerful vampires, Bonnie felt it was best to announce her presence. "Hello?" she called out, her voice echoing through the empty mansion.

[ataleofcrowns]

Patreon exclusive: D/Crown romantic snippet featuring a casual sparring scene, released for tier 3.

[flywolfwriting]

Okay so I know I shouldn't be working on the new fic BUT here's a snippet I allowed myself to write for it as a reward for getting ahead in TMITDE. What do y'all think?

(Now there's more!!)

-------

Alastor, to his great surprise, liked New Orleans. The humidity, the people, the history; there was so much going on all the time. He’d even found a nice little jazz club barely a twenty minute walk from his apartment, five minutes if he felt like driving. The best part, however, was the proximity to Jean Lafitte National Park and Historic Preserve; his apartment was less than a half an hour drive away.

He’d been looking forward to visiting since he’d moved and began planning the newest season of his podcast. This year he would be focusing on New Orleans’ most prolific serial killer, with at least 30 confirmed kills and several dozen more suspected victims. Alastor had been wanting to cover this case since he started his podcast four years ago, but wanted to have a sizable following first. He wanted to give it the attention it deserved.

Alastor was drawn to the Butcher of the Bayou not least because they shared a name but because they even looked alike. He didn’t approve of the man’s pastime of course, but every kid was drawn to a look-alike celebrity, and who didn’t go through a macabre phase?

His macabre fascination just turned into his career… not unlike the man he was here to research.

Now, nearly a month after he’d moved in, Alastor could finally make the trip out to the bayou to see for himself where Alastor Hartfelt disposed of his victims - and ultimately met his own gruesome end.

Alastor forced himself to take his time. He wandered through the preserve’s visitor’s center, read all the little plaques. Only when he’d seen everything there did he allow himself to meander down the nature walk. He’d thought about joining one of the guided tours, but he wanted to savor the visit, enjoy the bayou and the history he knew on his own. His own little ritual. There was plenty of time for him to come back, and he would; his first episode of the new season wasn’t set to release for another six weeks.

He first spotted him right as the pathway turned into boardwalk.

Alastor’s heart skipped a beat before he really even realized why. The man looked like an angel with the way the sunlight hit his platinum hair through the trees, lighting up like a halo. He looked so familiar, yet Alastor was certain he’d never seen the man in his life. He would have remembered someone so beautiful, so… ethereal. It was the only word that even began to describe him.

Quickly looking away before he could get caught staring, Alastor busied himself fiddling with his phone. He snapped a few pictures of the trees, and when he turned to look again the man was gone.

He spotted him again further down the boardwalk, standing and simply staring out into the bayou. Alastor couldn’t see anybody else around and was overwhelmed by the urge to speak to the beautiful stranger. But why? How? He needed an interesting starter; not a cheesy pickup line, Alastor wasn’t any good at those anyway.

Something interesting. The whole reason he was here. That was interesting. His 1.2 million listeners certainly thought so.

Alastor casually sidled up beside the other man - good god he was short! - and said, “Did you know a serial killer disposed of bodies here?”

[redo-rewind-if]

Bonus snippet! Is he flirting with you? Subtly threatening? Who's to say. Good luck MC lol.

[celestialspark]

Peaceful Days

One of the bonus snippets I've been writing for my original story Pages and Petals - the peaceful childhood days of a certain boy~

━━━━━━━━━━━━☽━━━━━━━━━━━━

"He's still alive."

"Tsk. So he survived. Yet again."

"They're so lucky for no reason."

The disdainful voices woke Ji Hui from his sleep. As he heard them curse and mock, he pulled his thin blanket over his head as if it could block them out.

Of course, it did not help. It had never helped.

"How old is he now? Six?"

"Well, the luckiest lived until nine, so it's not unusual."

The boy pressed his lips onto each other. He knew he would not live for long, but it wasn't a reason for him to hear about it every time he recovered from a fit.

Right.

Ji Hui opened his eyes and touched his chest. It didn't hurt anymore. His lungs were not on fire anymore each time he took a breath.

A relieved sigh came over the boy's lips.

He felt weak and his body was sore, but as they had said, he had survived yet again.

His bed and blanket hustled as he sat up. He did it quickly to scare the spirits away. It didn't quite work but at least he startled them to silence.

The quick movement made the boy's head spin, but at least it was silent for a moment.

When he got his bearings again, he let his gaze wander through the little cabin that his mother and he called their home.

As he suspected, his mother was not there. Else, the spirits wouldn't be so loud. But his mother had left behind something on the table next to the bed.

A bowl and a candy. Seeing the sweet alone already made Ji Hui make a face. It meant there was medicine in the bowl.

He reached out and carefully lifted the lid from the bowl. As he could still see steam rising from the medicine, it meant that his mother hadn't left too long ago.

Ji Hui stared at it. He closed the lid again. Only to be met by a disapproving look of one of the male spirits. "Drink it," the man demanded, gentle but firm.

Once again, the boy made a face, but he took the bowl with both of his hands.

His ice cold fingers were almost burned by the heat. Despite it being summer, Ji Hui was almost constantly cold.

Blowing the medicine, he tried his best to prolong the time he needed to take it. But as more and more spirits joined to watch him, Ji Hui just screwed up his eyes and drained the medicine in quick big gulps.

"Ew!"

He put out his tongue the moment he finished. He felt like the medicine was getting more and more bitter every time.

One of the smaller spirits, even younger than him, waddled over and tried to push the candy to him.

Ji Hui smiled at the child. Although it couldn't truly touch anything, it still tried to help him. While he plopped the candy into his mouth, he reached out and motioned as if he was stroking the child's head. It was the least he could do.

Seeing that he was awake and well, most of the spirits soon lost interest and left him alone, so that it became peaceful around him.

Rolling the candy over his tongue, Ji Hui looked out of the window.

Only a few small clouds passed over the sky. The sun was shining brightly and as it slowly crept over the horizon, it also began to shine through the window and warmed Ji Hui's body.

This back window of their cabin had a good view down the slight slope to the vast fields with crops. From afar, he could see some children play. He had never seen them up close but his mother had said they were about his age. They were running on the paths between the fields, dragging kites behind them.

Ji Hui knew he could never join them with his weak body, but he always wished he could. if the wind was just right, he could hear their laughter carried up to his cabin.

Looking a bit further, Ji Hui could spot his mother. With a basket on her back, she was harvesting some of the vegetables.

For helping out with the fields, the village had allowed his mother to take some crops for themselves, too. That meant she would be back with a bunch of vegetables soon.

Tearing his gaze from the window, Ji Hui slid down from the bed and slipped into his sandals.

They were going to need to wash the vegetables, so they needed water. Ji Hui could help with that.

He walked over to the kitchen corner and looked at their utensils. Why was his mother keeping the big bowl for water so high up? It was above the fireplace. The shelf there held a bunch of buckets and other bowls and the one he needed was the last one.

With an annoyed sigh, the boy looked around and chose his chair to push towards the fireplace. It wasn't more than a low stool but stepping on it made him at least a little bit taller.

Only a little bit, though, because he had to stretch to reach for the shelf.

The moment the tip of his fingers reached for the rim of the bowl, everything came tumbling down.

When Ji Hui opened his eyes again, he was lying on the ground of the cabin with all the buckets and bowls around him. He blinked right into one of the spirit’s faces who backed away with a disappointed click.

“He still lives.”

A collective sigh was heard around him. There were more disappointed than relieved sounds around him.

“Ji Hui!”

His mother’s voice dispersed all spirits’ voices. The woman came running. Throwing the vegetable basket to the side, she helped her son sit up while she frantically patted him. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

His mother’s calloused hands were gentle to him. Ji Hui turned slightly to fall into her chest, his arms clinging to her in a hug.

“I’m alright,” he muttered into her clothes. “I’m sorry.”

He could literally feel his mother’s tension passing as she now just gently patted his head. “You should have stayed in bed if you’re not feeling well yet.”

“I’m feeling fine!” Ji Hui immediately exclaimed. He pulled back to look into his mother’s face. “I’m okay! I just wanted to help!”

His face made his mother stop. Only now did she take her surroundings in. At least nothing seemed to be broken. Just slightly damaged, but not broken. With a sigh, she looked back to her son: “I have told you not to try to hold something that is too heavy for you.”

Ji Hui began to pout. “It’s not too heavy!”

“No?” The woman laughed. She booped the boy’s nose as he was pouting. “Then why did everything fall down?” With ease, she lifted her son and put him back on his feet. “Now come. If you want to help, you can separate the leaves from the stems.”

As his mother said so, Ji Hui sat down at the table as she brought him the basket that she had carelessly thrown to the side. “Thank you for your help, my little man.” She placed a kiss on the top of Ji Hui’s head. “But I will be the one getting water.”

Diligently, Ji Hui nodded and began to separate the leaves from the stems as his mother had taught him, while she gathered up all the scattered bowls before she took the largest to walk out to the small river near their house.

No matter how menial the tasks were, as long as Ji Hui could help his mother, he was happy. She was already taking care of him so much, he wanted to repay whatever he could as long as he was able to.

Because he knew that he did not have much time. The constant whispering of the spirits told him so.

As his mother went away again, the voices around him started to chatter again. Some of them crept up and examined his work.

Some criticized him for doing a bad job despite his age. Others praised him for being so helpful to his mother and being a good child.

They were never of one opinion except for the fact that he wouldn’t be living long.

Ji Hui knew that and he was alright with that. The only reason for him to live was for his mother. He only wanted to make her happy as long as possible. If he ever had the chance, he would do everything for her to have a good life. But as they both had made peace with the fact that he only had limited days, they did everything to make the best of it.

Thus, Ji Hui was also able to tune out the spirits whispering because as long as his mother was by his side, they would be silent and let them live their best life.

[angeart]

Surely Link would never steer me wrong. I shall ask for the snippet. *nods* -🎀

you: place your trust in link link: perfect. give them the evil one

WELP ANYWAY. here's the snippet from the upcoming hhau mimic arc rambles III bonus:

-- Scar barely catches a glimpse of him—his gaze snagging on a disturbing amount of deep red; items slipping out of Grian’s grasp and clattering, uncaught, to the floor; messy hair and dishevelled feathers; an almost triumphant spark in Grian’s eyes, his expression wild and relieved and breathtakingly alive—and then Grian’s on him, grabbing his cheeks and kissing him before they even get to say hello. The hands on Scar’s face feel wet.  They leave red smudges across his skin, painting over his flush as Grian fervently presses his lips to Scar’s. --