#Storm Snippets

[fairrytype]

fic snippet for the 28th anniversary of Pokémon ;')

Sometimes, Ash has to remind himself he’s not a kid anymore, back when he could roll out of a sleeping bag the day after an adventure with his skin already healing. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, he can feel the bruises and scrapes forming, knowing that some will probably leave marks for weeks.

“I can’t wait to get out of here.” Misty mutters as he approaches. “Did you use all the seaweed? We need some to get them out, too.”

A loud noise shakes the cave. Every time the thunder rolls, Misty emits a small sound of discomfort, and he drops to her side. 

“I didn’t. You told me not to.” He nudges her knee with his, “Stop worrying.”

“I don’t want the roof to cave in on us or those Pokémon we just spent the night getting to. I’m not worrying over nothing.” Misty protests. She stills at his side as another roar of thunder surrounds them. 

Ash swallows uneasily, knowing that if he thinks about that, it won't help anything. Another rumble. Another squeak. He nudges her again instead, “Still not a fan of that, huh?”

“I just don’t like how it sounds in here.” 

“It sounded worse outside."

“I wasn’t focusing on it out there.”

“Good, because it sounded worse." Ash notes, trying to find some comfort against the tunnel's rocky walls and failing, "but you never did like a storm.”

Misty shifts at his side. He can sense her eyes on him. “You remember that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know.” she whispers.

“You hated them.” Ash shrugs. How easy it had been back then to tease a girl who claimed to love the water so much, fretting over the rain taking a turn. He can still hear it clearly in his mind, the way she would demand they find cover when the skies opened up. How she would grab his arm to stop him stepping into the downfall.  

Ash can't say for sure when it stopped being funny. When he started to take her concern seriously, just that somewhere along the way he stopped finding anything amusing about her looking so worried.

“You could have stayed,” Ash comments suddenly. “Back at the house.”

Misty replies before he has a chance to continue. “Like I would.” 

 A slow smile spreads to his cheeks. “ Yeah. You never did, even as kids.”

 “Someone had to drag you out of wanting to play in storms.”

“I wasn’t playing!” Ash grins, “I wanted to see them! The sky always looked cool.”

“I guess.” Misty exhales, so quietly he only feels it on his shoulder. “The way the water seems angry is kind of beautiful. When we’re not stuck in it.”

They sit in silence and Ash tries to imagine what a beautiful storm is. He thinks he’s probably seen a few on his travels over the years. 

Eventually, Misty's arm presses to his gently. “The day we met, there was a storm.”

With a frown, Ash realises she’s right.

Sitting in a cave together after a night full of adrenaline, it’s hard for him to wrap his mind around it. Next month will make it thirteen years since the day he left and never really turned back. The day they met. He doesn’t see her nearly as much as he did back then, but Ash can’t pinpoint when Misty became such a big part of his life.

Maybe it was that day. In that storm. After she saved him, and set him straight with a red cheek and a bruised ego, telling him how to help Pikachu. When he rode her bike into that storm and trashed it not long after. 

His eyes fall to her lap, where the mouse is curled up.

“I sometimes forget about the storm part.”

Misty’s breath falls on his arm as she laughs tiredly, “And the bike part.”

His face falls. Misty gives another short laugh.

“Relax. Anyway, even if I had stayed, I’d still have heard it inside. The thunder.” She reminds him, “And then I’d have to hear about your body being washed up or something, too.”

“That wouldn’t happen.” He snorts dismissively. 

“You say that like I haven’t personally fished you out of a bed of water myself twice already.”

Ash realises she’s right there, too. Something twists in his stomach. It feels like guilt, but he thinks it may be gratitude. 

Misty’s cheek brushes his shoulder. Ash guesses she must be trying to sleep and he stays painfully still, staring into nothingness.

Then, a murmur,  “Luckily for you, Ash. I like you almost as much as I like the water.”

“Mist, I–”

Another roar of thunder, this time louder, interrupts the way his chest squeezes . Ash doesn’t know what he was going to say.  He only pay attention to the dirt from the cave roof falling onto his shoulders as Misty sits up straight at his side.

[justallihere]

She did open one gift—from Liam. Weeks before, he'd finished the carving of Andarna he'd been working on for her. Tonight, he had one of Tairn to add to it, and she cradled it protectively in her palm the entire night. When it was time for a dance, she tucked it into Xaden's pocket for safekeeping, and he was clearly trying not to laugh at the precious way she was treating it. "It's from Liam," she said defensively in response to the look on his face. They swayed together in the center of the room, one hand clasped in his, the other on his shoulder. "I can't let anything happen to it." "Do I need to be jealous?" Xaden asked, and the laughter was audible in his voice, too. "Do you?" Violet sniffed. "No. Will you be? Probably."

[syluses]

Ngl the new caleb ficlet im workin on might break me (and you guys 🥲)

Prepare thyself :,)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

From the same Storm mini-series 🥹

THE FAM 🥺

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Chapter 4: Chume Labs Interlude

“Do you ever think about going back to school?” The question slipped out before Pac fully considered what he was asking, voicing his thought the moment it popped into his head. Mike paused, lifting his head so he could look up at Pac and raise an eyebrow. “Do you?” “I asked you first.” Mike sighed and rolled his eyes, returning to work. “...I dunno,” he eventually responded after a silence that lasted so long Pac thought Mike was ignoring him. “Never really thought about it. The classes we had at the orphanage sucked. They didn't teach us stuff that mattered, stuff that would keep us alive. We had to learn that on our own.” He rolled Pac's ankle, testing the flexibility to make sure none of the mechanical joints of his prosthetic were locking up. "And the classes were boring as hell." “I hear colleges and universities are different though. It might be fun,” Pac said hesitantly, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious as Mike paused to look up at him again. “Maybe. I dunno. I just– I’ve been wondering what we should do now. I don’t think it’s safe for us to steal things anymore, even if Alcatraz probably thinks we’re dead. I don’t want to go back to prison."

[ Read on Ao3 ]

[danwhobrowses]

One thing I think might fly under the radar with some of the Bells Hells' new outfits are that Ashton, Fearne and Imogen each seem to have added a Sun and/or Moon motif

Imogen mostly opts for moons given her greater connection to Ruidus but there's also the sun, while Fearne has a sunflower (she also has her lantern but that was there on earlier designs) - which seems to have had a bit of additional attention among the other flowers given it's ring of air around it - on her hoof, and Ashton has a belt and leg accessory that look like they could be a sun and moon. Chetney doesn't have many motifs because his design is quite practical, but as a werewolf he does have a visual tie to the moon anyway.

To add to this, there may also be a third motif of wind, or at least the sky; Dorian's cape and instrument have a morning dawn kind of gradient, whereas Laudna's gradient represents the night sky, in the middle you have Orym, whose wind parallels are quite simple given the Zephyr armor and being an Air Ashari.

Intentional? Maybe not, but it does look like there's an elemental theme going on too which is, if intentional, very underrated.

[tracle0]

Snippet Sunday XIII

Lucky number 13, folks! Another one of my favourite numbers, wahoo! A colour story snippet, for you!

“What does the colour want, Fina? More than anything else?”

Now it sounded like he was talking in riddles. She shrank into herself a little, hands clasped to her chest. “It, uh… to… have a home?”

To her surprise, he considered that answer, turning to face her again as he reached the end of the tables, his back to the skyline. He looked unusually stern, his thick eyebrows drawn close, but she swore a smile played around his lips. “It did,” he allowed. “It likes having a home. And then you take it from that home. What does it want then?”

“To… go back…?” Even as she said it, she felt it was wrong. It wanted to go back when she first drew it out. After that, it seemed to be trying to escape. 

As if hearing her thoughts, Red nodded slowly. “More than anything,” he said quietly. “It wants to be a storm. It wants to be free to move and erupt and destroy. Every time you pull a pigment, you’re releasing that want into the world. You need to handle it responsibly.” 

[madamebaggio]

“Are we dating now?”

“Have you been single for so long you don’t even know what dating is anymore?”

“Well, it’d never occurred to me before that people like us could date.”

“People like us? Do you mean sexy, daring and indepent?”

“... Criminals.”

“Speak for yourself, Stormy. I don’t consider myself a criminal.”

[pencilofawesomeness]

I’d be interested in hearing a snippet from “JJK With the Storm” if you don’t mind 👀

Of course! (Ngl this fic is my baby right now, so I definitely don't mind.)

I just started officially posting With the Storm a week ago, so even though I'm working on Chapters 12 and 13 (I was very tempted to share a snippet from 13 but it almost feels like false advertising, since it's the first time those characters show up lmao), I'm going to share a snippet from the soon-to-be-posted Chapter 3 that I have been editing.

He pointed at the curse. It was oozing green and orange and it was as big as he was, except fatter, like a slug that ate too much. “You see the trash can, right?” “Yup,” Yuuji responded simply. Too simply, when that curse was trying to eat its contents and obstructing the view by being ugly. “What about it?” “Do you see the slug on it?” “Whoa, there’s a slug?” Yuuji stood up and squinted at the trash can, shielding his eyes from the sun as if that would help him see. “Slugs are cool but they’re also tiny. Can you really see it from here, Nii-chan?” Sukuna expected this, but it still ate at him oddly that the rest of his family really couldn’t see these things. It was frustrating, but he was also a bit glad, because that meant he had never been ignored on purpose when he asked. Yuuji clearly couldn’t see it, so his question was answered. That was what mattered at the moment. “Nah, I lied about the slug.” “What?! Nii-chaaaaan,” Yuuji pouted. “Why’d you do that?” “To keep you on your toes,” he said, making his excuse abruptly in the form of flicking Yuuji in the forehead and promptly turning away. “Meanie!” Yuuji shouted after him, but he didn’t give chase. The situation wasn’t serious enough to warrant it, with Sukuna’s fake-prank a lame one in the face of his hasty lie, and Yuuji’s digging in the dirt interested him more. He was older now, nearly four, but still an easily distracted baby. After another thirty minutes of burying the same rocks over and over again, he would forget about Sukuna being weird, and the incident would be forgotten. For everyone except Sukuna, that is.

[moonsugar-and-spice]

Trick or Treat! 🕸️

(Please share a headcanon, a preview of a wip, or anything else you'd like and pass it on!)

Trick or Treat may be over, but the Halloween spirit lives on. So! I wish I could share more of what's ahead in Storms of Ice and Fire without spoilers. But since it's been such a long time in the making—both the story and behind the scenes—I hope you'll enjoy this glimpse of a long-awaited scene from a future chapter.

Those molten amber eyes burned against hers from where he stood, the heat of them seeping through to her core. He seemed to be waiting—for something, some hint from her. Katara held his gaze, beckoning, a silent invitation. And at last, Ozai closed the distance with quiet, intentional steps.

Whisper-light, his warm fingers swept the weight of her hair from her shoulder. She skimmed her hands up the strength of his arms, over the hard planes of his chest. Fingertips caressing the scar that marked her fight to pull him back from death's clutches, a choice that sparked a shift neither could have foreseen, binding them in ways they never imagined.

Something in his gaze took her breath away, its depth and intensity defying words. It pinned her for a long, heavy beat before he leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the curve of her bare shoulder.

Katara’s eyes fluttered closed as his hot breath blossomed over her skin. She shivered, tipping her head for him. The scrape of his beard teased her skin, his lips brushing the dip between her neck and collarbone, a soft delicate stroke that sent sparks through her nerves. Tracing his mouth up the side of her neck, Ozai placed another kiss over her fluttering pulse. A breath snagged in her throat. Another on the sensitive flesh below her earlobe sent goosebumps erupting over her skin, one more on the rise of her cheekbone.

Her fingers and toes curled, long-simmering desire thrumming like liquid fire through her veins. The tip of his nose grazed her cheek, his breath tracing a languid path toward her lips, only to stop short, hovering there. Hesitating. The fragile pocket of air between them was electric with tension, but he made no move to close it. And a flicker of understanding flared through her haze.

He was asking permission.

Ozai—the man who moved through the world as though expecting it to bend to his will, as if it owed him nothing less—was waiting for her signal to proceed.

A tingle fluttered dizzily in her belly. Because there was no doubting now—half-dressed and alone in the warm, dark quiet, safe at last from the clawing shadows and dangers that had hunted them—where this was leading if she said yes.

Her pulse lifted on a shuddering breath. He knew what her answer would be, but still he waited. Her hands ached, alive with the pull of passion. She wanted him as he wanted her, inescapable as the tide, undeniable as the sun.

[ner0w0w0]

A fic idea, or smt like that.

Hibari can see ghosts, Fon probably can see them as well but he refuses to tell anyone, even the Arcobaleno just to mess with them.

The thing is, Hibari can see ghost and sometimes he can't tell the difference between living people and dead people so he'd stay silent most of the time and wait until others start to interact with them to make sure they're alive.

Long story short, when he first meets the first generation, he has no idea that they're spirits. The others are talking with them! G can even pretend to be Gokudera for a whole day and no one can tell! So when they just... fade away, he doesn't give it a second thought. Illusionists exist and they're all dramatic. This trick isn't that new.

Fast forward to 10 years later, Hibari can still see ghosts lingering around the corner of the streets, under the bridge,... He doesn't acknowledge them, and they don't know that he can see them, which suits him just fine. Until one day, when he's due to meet Tsuna in his office to turn in his report of the recent mission.

"Ah Daemon, is this... Elena?" the Sky's voice comes from behind the door.

"Yes, yes she is." Daemon replies as he opens the door and takes in the occupants in the office. There is a beautiful lady sitting next to Daemon on the sofa, gently leaning on the nobleman's shoulder.

"Ah, Kyouya! I assume you're here to turn in the report?" He wordlessly gives the Vongola's boss his file before turns back to greet Daemon and his lady. Tsuna always yaps about politeness and hospitality so much that he'd just do it so the Sky will stop.

"Good morning" he greets monotonously as he shakes Daemon's hand.

"And you as well" as he bows lightly to kiss Elena's hand.

But when he rises back up, everyone seems shaken up at his action.

Hmm? Are you not allowed to kiss a woman's hand in greetings? Reborn has told him it's the way of things.

"Wha- Who are you talking to, Kyouya?" Tsuna seems particularly scared.

"Hmm? To Elena?" He questions back, clearly not seeing the problem.

"The-there is no one there, Kyouya! What are talking about?" The Vongola boss sounds near hysterical now and even Daemon seems clearly dumbfounded, and... hopeful?

Ah. So Elena is a ghost. Interesting.

But troublesome, because both Daemon and Elena look like they're about to use him as their telephone.

What did Fon say about what to do in this situation anyway?

'If you ever get caught seeing ghosts Kyouya' Hibari's inner Fon's voice rings out 'just run'

Excellent advice.

The Vongola can't find their Cloud Guardian for the next 3 months, not until they contacts Fon, only to find that the skylark has been taking 'spiritual enhancing class' (learning how to beat up ghosts, exorcist way) with the martial artist.

When he comes back and learns that Daemon, as well as other Vongola First Generation they have met is trapped inside of the Vongola rings, their plane of existence is different to normal spirits. That's why Daemon can't see Elena and the illusionist is on his knees begging Hibari to help him speak to his past lover.

To which Hibari only says.

"Skill issue"

And disappears for the next 3 months, this time to exercise his skill in exorcism. (He, inevitably, fails, so he goes back to the business of making people becoming spirits, hitman style)

[stormbreaker-290]

Hgrgrrgh

[justallihere]

“Was it impolite when I fucked you every night for the past week?” He asked it in a low voice right next to her ear, and was pleased when she drew in a quick little breath and shivered. “Because I was definitely staring at you then, and I seem to remember you enjoying it.” 

[pale-and-sour]

aesthetic: alina starkov, the soldier.

“I didn’t know who I was in this little palace. I didn’t know who I was when there was an entire court of people looking on, expecting their own version of me. Some wanted a meek, little soldier from the First Army; some wanted a Sun Summoner from legend who would free Ravka from its ancient curse and recede back into myth; some wanted a rageful, hungry Saint who would slice the golden domes of Os Alta away and raze the Fjerdan ice plains to ash.”

[deepfriedtrout]

Cottagecore Vertin. Matilda holding a chicken. Idk where I'm going with this

[gun-roswell]

Chapters: 17/? Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & Other Star Wars Characters (Star Wars) Characters: CT-9904 | Crosshair, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-9901 | Hunter, CT-9902 | Tech, CT-9903 | Wrecker, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Batcher the Lurca Hound (Star Wars), Pabu Island Residents (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Clone Trooper Characters (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Howzer (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Mox (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Stak (Star Wars: The Bad Batch: Paths Unknown), Clone Trooper Deke (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Vik (Star Wars), Original Clone Trooper Character(s) (Star Wars), Socks and Booker (OC Clones), Lula the Tooka Doll (Star Wars), Asajj Ventress, Clone Trooper Nemec (Star Wars), Shep Hazard Additional Tags: Summer of Bad Batch 2024, summerofbadbatch2024, Fan Events and Prompts, Pabu Island (Star Wars), family and friends, Fun under the Sun, Snippets and Scenes, Ficlets, family time and bonding, Fun and Fluff, Humour, Light Angst, Fights and Squabbles, Family Dynamics, Adventure, Flashbacks and Missions, Everyone working towards a common goal, Nature and Weather, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies Series: Part 1 of A Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Summary:

Each chapter containing individual ficlets in the life and times of the Bad Batch and their friends, clones and other Pabuers and one warm summer spent on the peaceful island of Pabu. There are a few flashbacks stories from the past there as well.

Tales as per inspired by the corresponding weekly prompts (see below).

Part of Summer of Bad Batch 2024 collection and series

@summer-of-bad-batch​