Snippet - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
Underneath the Veil of Hatred Pt 2 Snippet from this chapter:
“You are the fire in my heart, the blood in my veins, the cause and cure of my madness. You are the fire that I breathe, the roots that keep me grounded, the beginning and the end. I love you, Alicent and I would rather die with your name on my lips than live without you.”
I also wrote this chapter instead of sleeping
Snippet from my last chapter just to show y’all the toxicity we are working with:
Her wife gripped the notebook in her hands. “Do you still believe me to the girl under the Godswood? The one whose lap you once laid on? The one who clung to every word you said?”
Alicent dug her nails into the leather-bound book. “That girl is dead. She died when she ripped from her blue gowns and forced to dress like a woman grown. She died when she was married to a man who did not love her. She died when her first child grew sick and never opened his eyes. I have been walking this Earth as a corpse since I was ten and five. Just when I thought I could not die any further, you stab my corpse even more. I can never stay dead. You reignite my hope every time then kill me again. When will you let me rest in my tomb?”
Rhaenyra stared at her wife. Alicent was shaking, angry tears threatening to expose her true feelings.
“Alicent, I have never tried to hurt you-“
“-Yet you have”, Alicent interrupted. “Every time, without fail.”
I love Rhaenicent as a ship, which is why it’s kind of hilarious that I have a 23+ chapter fic on them being so toxic as a couple💀
hear me out gallagher being bullied by sunday into gaining more weight "your skinny compared to some of the other hounds" (hes already like huge)
Ga//agher looks hopefully at the impressive spread of dishes on the table. Sunday walks from the far side towards him.
“All for you.” Sunday arrives next to him, putting one hand on Ga//agher’s thick shoulder. “You’re so skinny, it’s a disgrace to the Bloodhounds. How do you expect to enforce security when you don’t have the mass to back it up?”
“Isn’t this enough?” Ga//agher plays along, lifting his impressive overhang.
“Pathetically skinny.” Sunday pokes at his side rolls, finger nearly disappearing in the depths of it. “Woo/sey’s outdone you. You should be more like him.”
Woo/sey had gotten stuck in a booth the other day after lunch, needing to call some other bloodhounds to get him out. Ga//agher had been a little bit worried they would need to unstick himself, too.
Ga//agher heaves a sigh, sending his belly rippling. “I suppose i should get started, then.”
”You should. And since your own efforts have been . . . unsatisfactory,” Sunday eyes Ga//agher’s massive belly, wide thighs and plump arms disapprovingly, “i believe i will have to make certain you eat a proper meal”.
"It ends like this: a warehouse, a child, and a bomb. It's magic, in a sense, the way a moment you have everything in the world and then nothing at all. Call it the miracle of death: a child is only a child until the screaming stops, and a bird is only a bird until you twist its neck.
It starts like this: Jason digs up a grave, and is surprised by what he doesn't find."
""You cannot win", her voice echoes through the wuthering hail, soaked in incense and gold and myrrh. "Abandon these futile attempts that will only harm you further."
What can a human do to a power like this, the Lord of Everything and Arbitre of unfairness, his deadliest warrior by his side with her gleaming lasso like a flaming sword? How is he meant to stand up tall, on these legs uneven?"
The Protector chapter 8: The Way The World Ends
"Her face crumples without a warning and Spoiler only has a second to bring a paper basket at her feet before she retches violently. The truth sinks in to the sound of those violent heaves and for a moment, nobody says anything anymore. Even just to hear, without even speaking the words- because hell if that's the thing about taboos, they make it unreal to make it bearable- it's a terrible thing to have to listen to. Dick Grayson, the unshakeable Nightwing, grabs onto Robin's shoulder to keep himself steady. All of them look like they're holding something terrible in their mouth.
Something to be said about swallowing the rot."
The Protector chapter 9 "Morning on an open grave"
https://archiveofourown.org/works/57542074/chapters/149997673
Understatement, draft two
Perfection meets Perfectionist #2 | copyright to saturnfairycat
Author's Note: Here is the second version of Understatement! (if you remember). So in this version, we have Etta (mc) and Quinn, the story plot essentially is surrounded by these two lovely folk. This is obviously taken out of context, so let me know if you like the snippet!
Understatement, the butterflies
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Quinn smiled bitter-sweetly, eyes glowed with much sorrow.
“I really like butterflies, you know? So beautiful, so free… but not free from the ticking time of death’s wing plucking embrace.”
Etta looked up to the sky, with much dolour in her cracked irises.
It was more of a rather nice night.
Though, nice was an understatement.
Polychromatic, astral.
The clouds were a spread of butter on toast.
The sunset was the jam– maybe even marmalade.
Salted caramel can’t compare to the sea’s mist.
For you to show leniency on my heartstrings?
The world will deteriorate, your devotion is interdiction.
There isn’t much room for such an ambition to ruin my depiction.
Your perspicacity scares me,
Torment me next, hence my jonah complex?
Eradicated, irretrievable.
Yet, what is there not to regret?
I lost you, my beautiful love.
Your hand is so much bigger than mine.
Pleading to discard the truth,
Everyone's hands seem to be more commodious than mine.
My world fits perfectly in my cupped hands.
I always hope to the heavens that the water wouldn’t seep through the cracks.
Is it obvious that I was holding my breath the whole time?
That night was beautiful.
Beautiful is definitely an understatement.
It reminded of you– a wistful memory meant to be kissed good night.
Was I meant to kiss you?
Attentive jealousy, trounce dolour.
My hands are tied, with the most winsome ribbon, crafted from fallen angels to trap my small cage of a mind.
“Once I step in, I have to continue until the day I dwindle, the flower can wither from its sorrows,” Etta thought.
But your hands are so much bigger than mine, I always can’t help but wonder how steady you can hold my world.
Would you hold my world?
Would you drop it when I let my sirens out to the poor sailors who only want to go home?
If I have found all of its species,
And put it all in one book;
I would still be left empty, without your butterfly wings.
I should’ve admired and not touched,
I should’ve been devoted and not lost.
Etta’s burning heart soured as Quinn’s butterfly wings touched their aching strings,
Once more.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
It is my opinion that lying is not a good hobby for lazy people.
I am way to busy to make the time to come up with lies, let alone remember then. lying is not a good hobby for lazy people, of course my favorite part of my brutally honest communication style is the look of shock on people's faces when you come at them with the truth. no one expects that.
18K One Shot - got this from a prompt on Reddit :)
He was tied to kill her and she him. The enchanting lady of Drăculea and the charming gentleman of Van Helsing. “Be seeing you, blood sucker.” -Alexander Van Helsing-
