#snippet Sunday

[roguishcat]

Snippet Sunday

Thank you so much for tagging me @inkymoonbunny! Can't wait for the next chapter of 'Branded Blood'! 💖

I'm currently working on @the-lady-mienshao 's ask (Astarion finds one of fem! Reader’s books (romance about a human and vampire of course) and she’s terrified that he’ll think she’s with him to sate a vampire kink)

I'm very slow, but I do get things done!😊 (eventually), so this is going to be Part 2 of 'What books don't teach you' (18+ MNDI).

Shelves upon shelves of novels. The biggest and most impressive collection in all of Faerûn. You scoured Sharess' Caress, picked up copies during your travels, and traded with other enthusiasts. You collected the books with fervour others reserve for collecting priceless trinkets and hid these away from prying eyes in the basement of your house.

To say that Astarion was impressed would be an understatement.

"And how exactly are these arranged, my sweet? Knowing your penchant for keeping things in order, one might expect to find a system of sorts."

"Thematically, actually. Started out alphabetically, but then it got confusing once I got my hands on tomes in Elvish and other languages."

"Elvish, you say? I didn’t realise that you are a master of tongues."

"I'm not," you admitted readily, the innuendo going completely over your head. "But I love how beautiful they are. And I figured that wanting to read these might be motivation enough for me to learn."

Astarion hummed in appreciation and ran his fingers along the spines. The books were truly a work of art, fine leather and beautiful designs that winked playfully at you when you tilted your head even a little.

"Whilst this is very impressive, I don't understand why you were never tempted to try the real thing."

"Well," you cleared your throat and pretended that you were very busy going through the scrolls on the table, "maybe I was waiting for you. Waiting to be swept off my feet by a charming, dreamy elf."

"And I'm absolutely certain that I was worth the wait. But enough flowery words."

Astarion looked at you intently, making you fidget and drop a couple of scrolls. He didn't look away from your face. You being clumsy was not news to him. However, Astarion seemed to have great interest in your answer.

Although you confessed your feelings - not that it wasn't obvious to everyone who cared to look that you were completely in love with Astarion- actually talking about the said feelings was still difficult. But you didn't want to lie to him either. So, you chose to settle for something as close to the real reason as you were ready to tell him.

"I told you. I don't have that confidence that comes so easily to some. And I did try once, you know."

"Yes, with the man who was lacking in both skill and manners."

The look on Astarion's face became a touch softer. He put his cool hand on top yours, long digits strocking smooth, warm skin. The comforting gesture was sweet, his nearness welcome.

"Well, at the time I thought that I was the problem. And then I was lucky enough to have you teach me." You took a step towards him and tilted your head up. You very much wanted a kiss but did not know if now was the right time. In spite of you 'being well and truly taken', you still felt nervous about asking Astarion for affection.

Fortunately, he did not seem to notice you nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of best way to put your wants into words.

"Oh? What's this?" Astarion moved past you and reached for a book. "Caught in the night?" He raised his eyebrows and then started reading the titles of all the books on that shelf. "Blood to remember? The Count's Courtesan? La petite mort? Darling, it seems that you've had a taste for creatures of the night before we met, hm?"

"Pardon?" You said dumbly.

"Well, my sweet. If I may be so bold, by my very rough estimation, you have at least thirty books with damsels of all shapes being kidnapped and devoured by vampires."

"Forty-two, actually."

"And that is why I feel it's safe to assume that you've got a type. Fangs? Crimson eyes? Eternal hunger that can only be sated in one way? And fortunately for yours truly, I just happen to fit that description."

No pressure tags💖 : @obsessedwhyyes, @rahuratna, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @arzen9, @clazberryk, @khywren, @vixstarria, @hellethil, @nyx-knox, @pursuitseternal, @busy-baker, @deadly-diminuendo, @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate, @bloodinwine, @xxnashiraxx, @charmandabear, @anacdoce, @larvasmoon, @vividiana, @davenswitcher, @funniestbitchinfaerun, @verbenaa, @pinkberrytea, @dramatiquechipmunk, @nerdallwritey, @marlowethebard, @bardic-inspo, @forget-me-maybe, @whiskeyskin, @lanafofana, @fangbangerghoul, @rivereverie, @starlight-rogue, @bum-dragon, @alwaysmauria, @bhaal-battle-beer-bard, @dez78, @shandoratheexplorer, @ravenswritingroom

[swordbisexual]

Snippet Sunday Saturday because y’all just get to have the next Magnae chapter piecemeal and also because I haven’t had much writing time in the back half of the week and I’m clinging to what I’ve been able to scrape together. It’s all a big romance novel-esque self indulgence what can I say.

He closes his eyes and takes a breath, pressing his hand against the spot between her shoulderblades. Tentatively, he inches it upward, in a motion that might be soothing, were he not strung taut with his own resistance. Instead, he may as well have fallen from a horse himself, for the way he feels as if he might vibrate out of his own skin as his hand skims up over her collar to rest at the nape of her neck. The fall of her hair is a tantalizing weight against his gloved knuckles; he feels her warmth practically searing him through the leather over his fingertips.

Enid tilts her face up to his. Her eyes track over the whole of him, from hair to brow to cheek, before finally settling at his lips. The tip of her tongue darts out between her own in thought, pretty and pink and tempting beyond belief. She looks into his eyes again at last from beneath hooded lids. “Heinrix…”

The sound of hoofbeats in the grass startles the both of them apart. Chancellor Werserian comes to a stop, keeping a respectful distance, though the concern in her voice carries through. “Your Ladyship?” She looks to Enid, then to Heinrix, her expression carefully neutral. “God-Emperor’s grace, you’re all right.”

Enid’s eyes dart over to Heinrix, a flicker of regret, before she pushes herself up to an only slightly shaking stand.

[albatris]

snappet sonday

hehehehehehe

“Can I help you?” one of the receptionists asked him.

Nat hopped forward.

“I am unwell,” he announced, “in so, so many ways. I need a medical certificate so I don’t have to go to work.”

“Alright,” the receptionist said, and handed him a clipboard with a form. “Fill this out and bring it to us when you’re done, okay?”

Nat took the clipboard and found a seat in the corner of the room. He pulled the front of his hoodie up over his mouth and nose with one hand, breathing through it. He filled in his details with his other hand, shaking.

At the bottom of the form, he was asked to give a brief description of what had brought him in today. He hesitated, then wrote.

Muscle pain. Stomach pain. Blurred vision. Sensory overload. Excessive hunger. Skin irritation. Blackouts.

He returned to the desk. He returned to his seat.

He waited.

He waited.

He waited.

He tapped his foot. He scratched his hands. He scratched his face. He ground his teeth. Pain. Hunger. Pain. Hunger. Someone brushed his arm as they sat down next to him and the touch crackled against his aching skin like an electric charge. Someone cleared their throat. Someone coughed. Nat wrapped his arms around his head and covered his ears. Pain. Hunger. Pain. Hunger.

Panic closed a tight fist around his throat. Tears burned at his eyes. Nat rocked back and forth, trying to calm himself. This room was too small, too stuffy. This room was going to smother him. Were the walls getting closer together?

Get out, get out, get out, GET OUT.

He’d just—step outside for a minute. He needed air. Fresh air. He’d tell the receptionists. Call me inside when you’re ready for me, please. I’m having a panic attack. He stood too fast, his vision dipping into black for a moment. He managed a single, staggering step towards the desk.

And the carpet met his face. Nat was on the ground, on his knees, his head pressed to the floor. He tipped sideways, agony spasming through him, his muscles twitching and uncooperative. He slipped dangerously close to unconsciousness, but didn’t pass the threshold. 

Motion swarmed around him. Faces. People. Sweet scent. Voices. He thought he could hear the reception staff shouting at people to clear off. No one was clearing off.

Pain advanced through his jaw and something cracked. He ran his tongue along his teeth, and found one of them out of place. Pushed aside. His hands flexed involuntarily. His nails ached. There were so many people all around him. Soft. Weak. Close. Comprised of blood and meat and flesh. All so unsuspecting and all smelling so good.

Fight.

“Don’t touch me,” Nat hissed out. “Get away!”

[aconfusedkitten]

Snippet Sunday

In theory, it shouldn't be hard to find a power module that's compatible with Aventurine's systems.

There are hundreds, if not thousands of broken androids scattered across the city, and one of them is bound to have the right parts. Even if Aventurine is an older – or newer, really – model, he can't be the only one of his kind. Statistically speaking, that would be highly unlikely.

Or at least, that's what Veritas keeps telling himself.

In reality, he's never met an android like Aventurine before. In reality, Veritas has never met anyone so utterly human before.

Because how else is he supposed to describe him?

“Where to find another power module,” Veritas mumbles absently.

His eyes flicker around his makeshift workshop. Parts scattered across every available space, two cots set up in the corner – topped with their cloaks instead of a blanket, but that was a luxury he couldn't afford – and scarce, battered walls that would hopefully keep them safe for as long as they stayed here.

No matter what precautions Veritas takes, it will never be safe to leave Aventurine here alone.

Not when he still hasn't woken up. Not when there's still a goddamn hole where his eye should be. Not when his body – his lively, always moving body – is limp in Veritas’ arms, never responding when Veritas tries to fix his circuits, and-

Not when the world still wants Aventurine dead for doing nothing at all.

[obsessedwhyyes]

Snippet Sunday

EDIT: The first chapter can be found here!

I've been tagged by some incredibly gorgeous, lovely people this week! Thank you to @khywren, @nyx-knox, @larvasmoon, @yennefer-of-vengerbergs, and @amoremagnificentbastard (both for the tags and for some especially juicy snippets 👀👀)

OKAY SO, I may or may not have a secret WIP in the works and... It's Bloodweave. I'm finally braving Bloodweave waters. I've got two chapters written (both in first person from Gale and Astarion's POVs), so I'm gonna tease the premise in the goofiest way I can by giving you the very start of both their chapters!

Firstly, the start of Gale's...

Aaand, Astarion's...

You get the idea 😂

No Pressure Tags: @roguishcat @busy-baker @pinkberrytea, @honeybee-bard, @davenswitcher , @deadly-diminuendo , @pickel182, @lady-vincent, @caffeinatedmunchkin, @verbenaa, @xxnashiraxx, @rahuratna

[tracle0]

hey writerblr

Snippet Sunday? Is that anything? Post a snippet on a nice Sunday and maybe pick out a few - say, three or five - other snippets from others to comment something nice on? Could be cool and groovy? Oughhh you want to do this so bad

[jinnybinghamsghost]

anyway here's a very very short snippet for snippet sunday for a body horror short story i'm writing inspired by every interaction with a doctor i've ever had

[elvensorceress]

sunday snippet

I meant to have this fic done ages ago but it's now somehow three times as long as it was, I've rewritten it five times, and I'm still working on it 🫠 oh well. have a snippet from snickerdoodles.

@tizniz @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @kejfeblintz @smilingbuckley @sofa-king-lame @chaosandwolves @smilingbuckley @belasmalhotra @bekkachaos @blutterlie @sazanahashi @livinginsunnyhell @epicbuddieficrecs @sparklespiff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @dangerpronebuddie continued from Wednesday

Eddie tries again, but still sounds rough and hollowed out. “I don’t want to drag you down. Okay? You should move on and forget me and— and it’ll be better.”

Not so much for Eddie. He’s never let go of anything in his life. It’s all there hiding under the surface, stuffed in cages. But Buck should move on. Buck should survive him. 

Is this their only future? It feels like losing everything. Eddie is losing everything. He’s kidding himself if he thinks he hasn’t already lost Chris. What if Eddie doesn’t survive this time? What will happen to everyone he loves? Everyone who loves him?

Does anyone love him? Does he mean anything to anyone? Has he ever meant anything?

“Forget— I should forget you?” Buck snaps, his anger un-contained fire now, not just a hint of smoldering kindling. Vicious, spitting, sparking, living flames that will turn everything to ashes. 

Maybe they should actually fight and say awful things and then it would be easier to walk away. 

Eddie’s not sure he could even manage that right now. There’s nothing left in him. No fight, no fire. It’s all shattered, scattered pieces. But he would try. If Buck needs that. 

He might need that. He snaps again, “Like you’re a pair of socks that disappeared in the laundry? Or something I meant to pick up at the store and spaced? Like it’s easy? Like you’re nothing? Like this? Us? You and me? Means nothing?”

Okay, when he puts it that way… it sounds dumb. But how else can Eddie stop hurting him? “No,” Eddie says. Not fiery, not loud, not anything. “No. Just. Something that doesn’t—”

“You're my best friend. You— you’re— I’ll let you go. Okay. Whatever. I’ll do that because I know you and I know you need Chris and I get it. I wouldn’t want you to do anything but love him exactly the way you do. But I won’t, will not and can not pretend that you aren’t my best friend and my partner and the person I love more than anything. All right? I’m not going to do that. I’ve spend years—literal— almost a whole decade of years loving you more than anything. I’m not going to just forget that or forget you. I’m not throwing that way. I’m not ever going to lie and say otherwise. This is not a ‘move on and grow out of it’ scenario. I love you more than anything in the world. Okay? You told me I wasn’t expendable and I had to deal with that so you have to deal with this. You mean everything to me and I love you, and that isn’t going to change even when you leave.”

“—hurt you,” Eddie finishes. It doesn’t really sound finished now. He says it because he was already saying it. 

But that the fuck does he say now? 

Eddie doesn’t usually think of himself as small, quiet, or fragile. But he feels like that now. His feeble words sound like it even in his own ears. Small. Inconsequential. Torn apart.

Buck steps back toward him. Not enough that they’re touching, but enough that they’re closer. “Hurt me. Drag me down. I don’t care.”

Eddie recoils. No. No, he hates that idea. He is not doing that. Not intentionally. Not. What the fuck. 

He knows he said the words. He said them because his mother said them and they stuck and haven’t left his head or his heart and it’s all he does. Ruin people he loves. 

Buck shakes his head. “Be in the way. Burden me. Share whatever weight you’re carrying. Be something that stays even if you’re not here. Be part of my life even if it hurts. I don’t care if it hurts, I need you to be something to me. Having nothing of you would be a hundred, thousand, million times worse. I am in this with you. I always have been. Don’t shut me out just to spare me. If you’re facing the fire, I want to be right there with you. Please don’t make me lose everything of you. Please don’t— please. Don’t pretend this is nothing. I can take you leaving, I can’t take this,” he motions between them, “meaning nothing.”

Eddie stares and doesn’t move. And stares harder like it will help him understand. 

He knows he’s breathing still because there’s air. 

Maybe he’s not breathing. But something is making air flow in and out of his body. Like rescue breaths? Supplemental oxygen? It’s not Eddie doing it, he’s not taking in air, but it happens anyway. 

He doesn’t understand. Maybe he never has. Maybe his brain stopped processing information when he stopped breathing because the brain can’t function without oxygen. Something like that. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t. 

Buck wants something of him even after everything? After all the people who have walked out on him and treated him like he doesn’t matter? Even with how Eddie fails and hurts people who care about him? He means something to Buck? Even though he’s hurting him and abandoning him and losing him? Eddie’s just another person who leaves him. He can’t hurt Buck. He can’t keep doing it. Buck doesn’t deserve this. And Eddie deserves no loyalty, no forgiveness. 

He doesn’t deserve anyone’s love. Not in any form. He shouldn’t have it. He’s never had it. 

“I don’t—” Eddie tries to say. He has to say. He has to make the words come out. “I don’t want to hurt you the way Abby hurt you. I don’t want to do that.” 

Buck shakes his head again and starts to say something.

Eddie beats him to it. “I know it’s not the same. I know I’m not— I know you don’t— It’s different. Still. I know how she hurt you, and I don’t want to do that. I don’t know how to not do that. I’m leaving you here. In my house. Just like she did when she left you. And I have to—” Do the same fucking thing? Give him up? Walk away? Destroy everything they made together? And maybe the only way to survive is to do what Eddie does best and ruin everything? 

He looks back at Buck and doesn’t mean to say it. He wasn’t going to say anything. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter. He should be mean and nasty and he should tell Buck he means nothing, this means nothing, and then Buck can just be justifiably angry and hate Eddie properly. 

And it would spare him. Whatever pain and tragedy that is associated with being near Eddie. It would spare Buck. 

That’s what he should do. 

That would be mercy and kindness. Pick up the weapon and blow this all to hell. 

Eddie can’t breathe. He can’t do this. Any of it. 

He can’t let go. He can’t lose Buck. 

And then he’s suddenly confessing, “I don’t want to do this."

It’s too late. It’s always too late. And what he actually wants has never mattered. He doesn’t matter. He never has. He twists his hands together and has nothing else to hold onto. It’s too late, so none of this matters. Eddie doesn’t matter. But he meets Buck’s lost gaze, stares into his eyes for three seconds, and he can’t keep it in.

“I want to be with Chris. I miss him so much. Every minute of every day. But I don't want to leave here. I don't want this. But it doesn't matter what I want. It never has. The one time I said, 'What about me? Why didn't you think of me?' Chris left. He left because I hurt him. And my dad says, ‘don’t wait thirty years to listen to your son.’ So I listen. I don’t know what the hell else to do. I listen, and I do what all of them ask. Even when it’s the last thing I want and I’ve already said, no, please stop, I need more time, please hear me. They don’t listen to me. I’m still nothing to every single one of them. And I just keep thinking why don’t I ever count? Why don’t I matter even a little bit?

"You think you aren't everything to me, too? Do you think that I don't love you just as much as you love me? But I don’t get to pick you. I don’t get to have anything of you. I hurt everyone I try to love including you and Chris. I’m not enough for anyone, in any way. I can’t love anyone the way they need or the way I’m supposed to. You say you’re defective parts, well I’m fucking broken.

"That’s why you should forget me. I don’t matter. You shouldn’t care. I should mean nothing because I am nothing. I’m not worth this. If I were a better, stronger person, I’d make you hate me. But I can’t even do that. I don’t want to hurt you more. I have to lose you and I don’t know how to lose you. I love you more than anything and it’s not enough. I don’t know what else to do but say, you should move on and forget me.”

Eddie turns away and covers his face, tries to hold his head because it’s aching. It’s too much. That was too much. He’s not supposed to be falling apart. Everything is supposed to be getting better. 

Shards of ice crack and fracture and break underneath him. Everything in the cage around his ribs snaps and he’s crying into his hands, trying to keep it together. Trying and failing. Always failing. His face is already wet. He was already broken. A long time ago. So many times. 

Buck is suddenly behind him. Not distant. Close behind him. He touches Eddie’s back gently and then steps around until he’s standing in front of him. He reaches between them and rests his hand on Eddie’s chest. As if he can stop the never-ending bleeding that’s somehow always pouring from Eddie’s heart. “You are enough, Eddie. You’re more than enough."

[deadly-diminuendo]

Snippet Sunday

Thank you so much for the tag, @bardic-inspo! 🥰

I've been slowly trudging along in my quest to complete A Fitting Reunion (I PROMISE IT WILL BE DONE EVENTUALLY), but today I spent a bit of time working on one of my other projects:

Really, it could be any manner of monster or miscreant lurking at your balcony door. But, if this night is like so many that have come before, you suspect your nocturnal visitor is the vampiric kind. You step carefully to the door, poker held high in hand (just in case of course), peeking around the curtain—and, through the glass pane, you spy a familiar toothy grin. Astarion. His hair is wind-swept, and he is covered in snow, and yet somehow you still feel like you are the one outside looking in on him. Sighing, you push the curtain aside and unlock the door, pulling it open. "Please, my fair maiden," he begins, pouring all his charm into this little act of his. "Would a pure, kind soul such as yourself take pity on a poor, starving man and let me in? The night is bitingly cold."

No pressure tags: @saucy-scribbler, @xxnashiraxx, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @anacdoce, @eraserspiral, @obsessedwhyyes, @kalmiaphlox, @meeshrox, @pinkberrytea, @nerdallwritey, @hellethil + anyone else who would like to share something! ❤️

[xxnashiraxx]

Snippet Sunday 🩸

I have been so busy these past couple of weeks and have not had a chance to post on a Wednesday, but making up for that today!

Thank you for all the tags over this past week, guys! Especially to @obsessedwhyyes @vividiana (I SAW YOU POST YOUR FIC, I'M ON THAT) @deadly-diminuendo @heylittleriotact @andromedaancunin @emmg -I hope I got everyone! 🖤

Here is a little snippet from Chapter 18 of With Stars to Fill My Dream! I'm a few words shy of 10k and I'm still not done 😬 Very close though! I still intend to post the chapter this coming Saturday, so I'm just juggling the ending since it was supposed to cut off at a certain event, but if I add that this chapter may turn into 15k and I don't think anyone needs a 15k chapter lol, so 19 will have my big cool secret that I'm excited to write!

Anyway! Here is just a bit from the creche! 🖤

A bump to her back shakes her out of the rapid devouring of self-hatred spreading into every cell in her body, stumbling and almost collapsing onto the ground below. “Watch it,” Astarion hisses, pressing up more firmly against her once her knees steady. “What are you-” “Draw your blade, we’re being surrounded.” “What blade? I have a goddamn knife, in case you haven’t noticed,” “It’ll be close combat soon enough,” He bites back bitterly. With cruel acknowledgement, she realizes he’s right, and she holds her dagger defensively, the feel of Astarion mimicking her stance as they lean on each other for support sending waves of confidence and dizzying uncertainty sparking through her veins. The pair of them really aren’t suited to this kind of punishing rhythm- the dance they weave teetering in and out of their favor with each blow and evasion. Constantly shuffling feet, ducking, and bending lend a kind of bizarre grace to each cohesive attack. He stabs, she parries. He parries, she stabs. A month ago, she’d been shaking in her boots at the prospect of some stranger following her through a dimly lit alley or confronting her for money. Now? She’s slashing her dagger and catching a chunk of githyanki ear in the cheek, sputtering and spitting the metallic liquid from her mouth onto the ground below. “Here, you need something,” Ofelia tosses over her shoulder, knowing he’ll hear her over the loud grunts of a woman who constantly swings her spear- as if she’d be lucky enough to land a successful hit on their cunning rogue. Ofelia presses the hilt of her dagger between gritted teeth before deftly swinging her lute to the front. It takes her but a moment to recall the spell, and the blink of an eye to choose something appropriate. Whether by her estimations or the surrounding enemies, she isn’t sure. Quick digits splay over the neck of the instrument with a prowess stemming from years of habitual repetition. The tune she defaults to when lost in thought—its weeping melody and slapping of skin to wood—floods her brain with familiarity. Like an old friend, it caresses her ears with a comfort long and lost. Emboldened by the teal magic that sinks into his pale skin, Astarion makes short work of the soldier before him with only the loud tearing of sinew and tissue being ripped from bone to indicate her termination. Ofelia turns to him, blood covering his face to paint his gaunt features in a shadowy mockery of the one she knows best. Polluting her thoughts of him, he does nothing but stare. If she’d been of clearer mind she would have paid more attention to the Inquisitor out of his periphery, elbows thrust backward as he lines his blade up with Astarion’s abdomen. “No!” She juts her hip out to knock him off balance, lute lowered in a measly attempt to block the blow. Aged wood and rusting strings do not, a proper shield, make.

If you're wondering what Ofelia strummed, yes it's the guitar solo from Bulls in the Bronx 🤙🏻

No pressure tags for my lovelies! 💗 @pinkberrytea @khywren @caffeinatedmunchkin @bby-bel-art @nerdallwritey @verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @elinorbard @badbloodwitch @justabiteofspite @bloodinwine @ladyduellist @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lanafofana @bardic-inspo @busy-baker @marlowethebard @alwaysmauria

[roguishcat]

Snippet Sunday

Thank you for tagging me @arzen9, @verbenaa, @feedthepheasants, @clazberryk and @xxnashiraxx! 💖💖

Here is my contribution, a snippet from 'Part of his plan' Part 2.

Astarion lowered Tav onto the bedroll, one hand behind her head, the other on her hip. Slowly, taking his time to savour the softness of her skin, he trailed his fingers up. The fabric of her shirt bunched as his hand traced the contours of her body and settled just below her breast.

“Are you sure?” He felt warm breath against his lips as they broke apart.

Instead of replying, Astarion put his mouth on Tav’s neck, fangs grazing sensitive flesh, her heartbeat strong in his ears.

He would tell her everything. And he would tell her soon. Because the thought of him being in any way like that vile male who dared to use her and scar her, to put that dejected look on her face, was something that Astarion could not bear.

His movements grew more frantic as he removed the last of the barriers between their bodies, wanting, needing to do enough that she would stay.

Because whilst he didn’t want to examine his feelings for Tav too much, not daring to hope for anything, he was terrified of what the consequences of his deception would be. 

No pressure tags: @bardic-inspo, @obsessedwhyyes, @busy-baker, @cinnamontails-ff, @larvasmoon, @anacdoce, @vividiana, @obsessedwhyyes, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @lanafofana, @caffeinatedmunchkin, @silent-words, @waterdeep-weavemoss, @ladyduellist, @coyote-mint, @funniestbitchinfaerun, @inkymoonbunny, @khywren, @kalmiaphlox

[seastarblue]

Snippet Sunday!

yay <3

———

“Dame Sierra… a fine figure, don’t you agree?”

Felix jumped as the voice sounded behind him. The half-fairy turned around to the same portrait staring right back at him—no, this was a decidedly masculine person, and his hair wasn’t nearly as long as the woman’s. He also looked much older than her, grey hairs starting to form on his temples.

“Sir,” Felix said, standing at attention and giving a salute to the current First Justice: Lloyd Santhuff.

“At ease, knight.”

Felix’s hand lowered and rested at his side, starting to tap the hilt of his wooden sai. ‘Wait a minute… oh shit.’

He’d forgotten to drop his training weapons before rushing over. ‘Way to go, BonaDea, he thinks you’ve lost it now.’

Felix didn’t know why he was so intent on going with his partner-in-justice on her excursions with Santhuff. He’d tell himself it was simply worry for his friend, but deep down—though he’d never admit it— jealousy chewed away at him. Green eyed and ugly, it constantly made his eyes burn and his head spin with thoughts:

‘What does she have that I don’t? Why is she so favored? Why isn’t that me?’

———

General Writing Taglist! Lemme know if you’d like on/off <3

@bunnymermaidwrites @abiteofhoney @aalinaaaaaa @vesanal @cepheusgalaxy

@fifis-corner @urnumber1star @thebookishkiwi @sunflowerrosy @glbettwrites

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[greenbergsays]

Tagged by @hyruling for Snippet Sunday

I haven't worked on anything since I finished the last one, but I have about 6 fics I started and abandoned in favor of writing all the ashes I've earned and imagine in the silence, so here's a snippet from one of them: an AU were Buck is a foster dad and new recruit Eddie Diaz meets him when the 118 is called to rescue his cat

All the kids freeze, whipping around to look at them in unison. If it was loud before, it’s nothing compared to the screams of excitement that echo through the yard when the kids spy their new company. The three-legged dog barks, pacing excitedly between the tree and the closest 118 member—Chimney—like he can’t decide which deserves his attention more. This place is a zoo, Eddie thinks. A man walks around the side of the house and for a second, Eddie’s heart stops. The man is—God, he’s gorgeous. Tall with broad shoulders and a broad, muscular chest, thick arms that threaten to rip the sleeves of his too-small shirt. There’s a baby sling across his chest, one of those thick arms curved protectively around it. In his free hand, he’s carrying a ladder. Eddie has never really thought too hard on what his type is. He was with Shannon, denying his sexuality, and then Shannon died, and he was too busy trying to juggle life and a grieving son to really think on it too hard. It’s probably the worst time in the world to find out that ‘hot, beefy man with a baby’ apparently does it for him. Like—really, really does it for him. The man looks up and halts, his brow furrowed as he takes them in. He huffs, a wide, breathtaking smile transforming his handsome face. It’s bright enough to put even the sun to shame. “Alright,” the man says, shaking his head. “Which one of you traitors called for reinforcements?” His mouth suddenly dry, Eddie thinks, I could be a zoo keeper.

Not sure who to tag, but if you wanna do this, by all means, use me as an excuse :) <3

[albatris]

snippet sunday......

snippet sunday........

tw suicidal ideation

“Anyway.” Quinn moved the washcloth over Alex’s cheek, cupping its face lightly as they worked. “In an annoying turn of events, Lyra Finch has been very dead for several years now.”

Alex’s heart twinged for Nat. “Oh, no.”

“Yeah. I wanted to use her as some leverage over him, but without her to threaten he’s a bit of a wildcard,” Quinn said. Alex could hear the pout to their voice even without seeing their face.

Alex sighed. “Nat is a people pleaser, Quinn. As long as you’re nice to him, he’ll do whatever you ask.”

“Hm.”

They worked their way down Alex’s neck and chest, then tenderly took its hands to clean them, using the washcloth to get at the blood caked in between its fingers.

“You know, he talks about her like she’s still alive,” Quinn added. “It’s really weird.”

“Well, he’s not hurting anyone,” Alex said quietly. “It’s probably just his way of coping.”

Quinn said nothing. They continued to work at Alex, painstakingly cleaning its body of every speck of blood and dirt. Alex leaned in to their touch, feeling hurt and raw, and trying to give itself over to the softness of the washcloth and the tenderness of Quinn’s hands. Its mind in the quiet kept straying back towards the night’s earlier violence. It didn’t deserve this.

As if reading Alex’s thoughts, Quinn said, “You did a good thing tonight. You helped a lot of people.”

Alex’s jaw clenched, but Alex relaxed it, not wanting Quinn to see.

“I know you’re torn up about it,” Quinn said. “But if someone else had done it, that would have been fine, right? That would have been understandable.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Alex said. “But—it’s different. I should be better.”

“You can’t afford to be better,” Quinn said. “Remember how you were when we first met? You were half dead. And there’s only one way that ends.”

“Maybe I just shouldn’t exist at all.”

Alex believed it down to its core, but even the thought of it sent the Garble into a panic. Alex felt bone shifting under its gums and fought to keep its fangs under control. The last thing it needed was another round with those pliers. Outside, the sun was inching up, and the thought of that fiery death pressing in at the windows, the doors, made Alex’s breath hitch in its throat.

Quinn’s hands paused, then restarted their work. “Well—maybe no one else would have done it. And she would have just gone on making the world a worse place.”

Alex didn’t say anything.

“Promise me you’ll stay by my side tonight?” Quinn said. They were finished their cleaning now, and they cupped Alex’s cheek in their hand again. “I can’t bear to lose you.”

This Alex knew for a fact. It leaned in to their touch. “Of course,” it said. “You know I’m too much of a coward to actually try anything.”

“I don’t think you’re a coward.”

All vampires are cowards.

“I’ll go fetch you some fresh clothes,” Quinn said. “Then let’s put a movie on.”

[vixenofcadmea]

Snippet Sunday

Not tagged for this, but maybe putting this out here will finally get me to finish cooking this Rookanis oneshot inspired by Only In My Dreams by The Marías~

Inside Your Dream (WIP)

Sleep had never been a peaceful endeavor for Lucanis Dellamorte. Nights of gentle slumber had been stolen from him young—just as his family had been. All that remained were Caterina, Illario, and him, the last surviving Dellamortes.

Caterina, as the First Talon, had made certain her grandsons learned to sleep with one eye open and a dagger at the ready under their pillows. Lessons he'd abhorred at the time, but ones that proved useful in the Ossuary—where he'd taken down more than one guard foolish enough to believe he was truly asleep before Calivan or another Venatori cultist would drag him back to his cage with blood magic and cruelty.

Perhaps that was why Lucanis came to love coffee. It had started as survival, another tool, another ritual to master. But after the Ossuary, it became something more altogether. A lifeline to get him through his sleepless nights at the Lighthouse, a tether to the life he had before. He brewed it better than anyone, he'd made sure of that. 

And perhaps that's exactly why his heart was pounding now, watching Rook take a bite of the hazelnut torte he'd made earlier that day to pair well with the coffee he'd brewed.

Because she was here, in the kitchens, in the middle of the night, drinking his coffee, and he was trying not to shake as she smiled at him like he was someone worth staying awake for.

[worfs-glorious-hair]

Snippet Sunday… eh Monday

I was tagged by the fabulous @optimisticgrey to share a writing snippets and since time is relative and a social construct am I still posting something 💜

Tagging (in case you haven’t done it yet and have WIPs you want to share) @astarioffsimpmain @saintsandsorcery @ladylucksrogue and anyone else who wants to share their writing with the world 🤩💖

The following is a snippet from an OS currently titled “You are enough” and features druid!Tav with their own secrets, Gale and an enchanted meadow in act 2 👀

His brows furrow together and he is silent for a moment.

“You…”, he seems lost for words, I don’t think I have ever seen him speechless before.

“You have never been with anyone? You of all people? Apologies, I just assumed…”, he was trailing off, struggling for words.

“I’ve seen the way people look at you, the way our companions all wanted to invite you to private moments, sharing wine and bodies. I suppose I wasn’t so different to them after all. And I assumed since you must have had the world to choose from all of your life, judging from the behaviour of our companions that, well…”

Gale looked at me, eyes big and wet and his shoulders dropped.

“I am sorry I assumed details of your private life that are only your concern”, he said as his demeanour changed.

His eyes were suddenly burning into mine and he made a careful step closer to me.

I felt myself move towards him.

“What makes you think that I would want you any less after you would share this personal, intimate detail with me?”, he suddenly asks with a low voice.

“I haven’t said that”, I croak out but he is right, of course he is, this was my only fear.

“But your eyes have”, he said softly, a gentle smile dancing over his lips.

“I guess I was afraid”, I begin to answer. “Afraid that you would want an experienced lover, not some druid with the romantic experience of a fawn…”

He looks at me perplexed.

“I want you! Please, you have to know that I meant what I said – I am in love with you! All of you is what I adore, all the secrets you hide —“

This was my only secret, I promise”, I interrupt him and Gale shakes his head with a smile.

“And even if it wasn’t, they are a part of you, you, the one I love, you, the one I want to look at for the rest of my life…”, he answers and points to me on each ‘you’.

My heart races and my soul can not believe it’s luck and I smile, without my doing, without any control of my features.

Happiness is seeping out of me and into the world around me, I can not look away from Gale and his sincere eyes on me.

“And I also meant what I have said”, I tell him, “I am in love with you, too! And I will not allow you to blow yourself up, we will find another way! This will not be the end, not for you, not for me, not when we just found each other!”