#au snippet

[sapphanimates]

IVE STARTED WRITING.

"

I’m Sonic. Sonic the Hedgehog. 

It’s been a while, huh? The world’s a lot more quiet now than it was 25 years ago. 

Eggman’s still kicking around, but he’s more of a joke now than he ever was. Sage is practically running his “Empire” for him at this point, and even with that, they still get beat every time. 

Not by me, though. I’ve moved on.

I might’ve stopped fighting the Egghead, but nothing’ll keep me from running like I always have. Adventure’s in my blood.

Besides, there are kids out there now who are just as tough as I was taking the charge.

Gives me more time to explore, meet new people, and share stories from my old adventures. 

Everyone else has moved on too. 

Amy’s a therapist now, Tails is a Professor of Chaos Research at Spagonia University, Knuckles is… well he’s Knuckles, and from what I’ve heard, Team Chaotix and the Restoration have been doing really well lately. Some of them even have kids of their own. 

Come to think of it, it’s been a while since we’ve all gotten together like we used to. 

I’m on my way now to Amy’s for a quick visit. There’s something she really wants to tell me about.

"

let me know what you think so far please because this is my first attempt at a fic tfddfyrsygkgygkysgyszdggkisg]dss

[tealincubusspeckles]

Concept: Foretold Through The Bloodline

What if…

Mika is a seer. Harold had a heart of gold because he was generous with his resources and wanted to spread the idea of love via toys for children. What if Harold used to tell Mika a bedtime story passed down through generations? However, what if this generational story came from a seer in the Anderson bloodline who wanted to warn future generations about demons? This story affects David and pushes fear into his heart about the supernatural. Meanwhile, the story encourages Mika to feed her imagination until the brothers enter her life. What if, sometime during her two years with her lover of choice, that she would have to choose between the human world and the demon world because of the generational story? Although, the only reason why I had this idea was because some people make it obvious they are about to pass and some don't. So going back to the idea, what would you do if you realized your future was already foretold many decades before you were born? When would the pieces start to click? How would you assure yourself you're not being vain? Remember, anyone who could have confirmed or denied your claim was long gone. Would you learn to play along with the story, attempt to run away, or decide to exist while the story drags on? We all could wonder or have an answer to what I proposed, yet I am still learning to love the moment.

SCENE IDEA

My grandfather told me this story a long time ago, but every time he tells it, the details often change. When I used to ask him why, my grandfather claimed that through many generations the story kept developing via dreams. In the story there were seven characters a tall golden stag, a clingy octopus, a tiny dragon, a harpy eagle, a hellhound, a purple cat, and a singing glass heart. Frequently, one character ends up with a portion of the glass heart. However, in the end when all the characters are present, the glass heart pieces are embedded in the grown up dragon's chest. Many in my family have tried to interpret this dream, but none have encountered such a situation. Until I realized, Diana was the purple cat that forced Sam to keep me close. Does the dream mean our relationship will hurt Sam?

[ink-drenched-cat]

Btw, in an older rendition of The Guiding Star AU, I compared Resh to Prometheus and had him punished for teaching the spirits how to use flame and light, by slowly replacing all his limbs with dark stone -> hence accelerating his corruption.

I think I might draw that version soon...

And the sky kids were made from clay unlike the spirits that were made from coal/darkstone.

[15writingducks]

SUTF Snippet!

(This is not canon yet/details may change with time, this is for fun :3)

"Tell me... Do you trust me?" N's eyes had changed to the iconic 'X' of death. His hiss akin to that of a gators as he prowled closer.

"I-I do-" Uzi tried to speak, but the words died in her voice box as his tail made her fall down.

"Do you though? When I'm like this?" He slow crawled to her, forcing her to shuffle back to the wall of the storge container, the soft clang of metal sounded with her back against it.

"N... I do-" Uzi yelped slightly as his tail zipped past her, hitting the wall beside her head.

"TELL ME THE TRUTH!" N roared in her face, now heavily breathing mere inches away from her face, his fangs on display.

"I- I do... Even if you killed me, I still would... Even if you let me to die, I still would... I trust you... More then I ever could for my Father, my Family, or Friends... More then myself... I trust you..." Uzi spoke carefully closing her eyes when fear started to fill them.

[maiko-coy]

I think they'll get along quite well, actually...

[joejhang]

my favourite bits of the unhinged kandreil draft snippet

honestly this is a goldmine of insane moments. love nora for this.

THEIR BANTER THO

good to know neil's always been a cunty diva

it's giving you'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you. r.i.p. kandreil au kevin you truly had infinite rizz.

the way i feel like i've been sledgehammered

andreil still going strong

the way they have me giggling and twirling my hair kicking my feet booktok couples could only DREAM of having this kinda chemistry

i don't think i need to say anything

[ghostgoing]

“YOU!”

Jason turned his head to see a small guy with black hair pointing at him. He was wearing a light grey hoodie and jeans.

“Your ancestor has been haunting me for MONTHS!” Danny tilted his head, looking at Hood’s chest. “They weren’t wrong, you really do need to see a ghost doctor. What the fuck is up with your ecto?”

“My what?” Red Hood said. “ are you the guy people around here have been talking about? The one who can talk to the dead?”

“More like the dead won’t stop talking to me.”

[cyanorhis]

All these colors fade for you only…

[inkpotsprite]

Working on yet another Titan's Tower AU, but this time with a Duke shaped twist.

[sapphanimates]

" That Weird Girl "

(Between Zayne and Espio, shortly after Zayne meets Sasha for the first time at Restoration HQ)

Z: ...Her name is Sasha.

E: Oh?

Z: What? Do you know her?

E: No, it just sounds so formal, compared to the kind of names your other friends use.

Z: SHE ISN'T MY FRIEND!

E: I never said she was.

(I think I might just start posting ideas for characters interactions on here as I come up with them heheh)

[tealincubusspeckles]

METHOD 2: VOTE

2. VOTE= I pose a what-if scenario with a few outcomes. People vote and the highest vote is the route I continue with. If there is a tie, I rewrite the post with more detail and new options.

Inspirations: 1. Disney's “Pinocchio” 2. “Tangerine Bear” by Bert Ring 3. “Unbreakable Machine Doll” by Kinji Yoshimoto 4. WEBTOON “The Dummy's Dummy” by Mochamura

Test Sample Method 2: Choose Your Own Adventure Style

###

Granddaughter's Keeper

There once was a toy maker named Harold Anderson, born with a heart of gold! He put everything he had into every toy he made, hoping to give others hope and happiness. One day, Harold decided to learn magic and opened a portal into the demon realm. He soon learned that his trip would be a one way ticket to permanent residence and slavery. However, this man was anything but a pushover! He created a name for himself among human slaves and soon caught the interest of a young demon boy.

[nyctrilite]

north star

[coniferouspines]

The phone was ringing. Stanford picked it up with his usual greeting. “Stanford Pines speaking.”

“Ford,” a familiar voice said—one that Stanford hadn’t heard in years. It sounded desperate, panicked. “Ford, please. Please, you have to help me.”

Stanford felt all the air leave his chest. All he could manage was a strangled, “Stanley?”

They hadn’t spoken to each other since they were teens, and now Stanley was calling out of nowhere asking for help? He wanted to be mad. Except… his brother sounded so distraught. And Stanley didn’t beg. Not like this.

“Please, Ford. They’re coming for me. Please, help me! I can’t—”

Stanford felt ice creep into his veins as his brother broke off with heavy, gasping breaths. He could hear something in the background, other voices.

“Stanley?! Stanley, what’s going on? Who’s coming for you? Where are you?!” Stanford demanded, clutching the phone in a vice grip.

All he heard in response was a clatter, then a shout and sounds of a scuffle.

“Let go of me!” Stanley was yelling. He sounded like he was a few feet away from the phone now. “Let go! I won’t go back! I won’t!”

“Stanley?!” Stanford shouted. He felt helpless, his mind racing, trying to figure out a way to find where Stanley was. He couldn’t believe this was happening. His brother was being abducted right at that moment and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“STANFORD!” he heard Stanley scream. He sounded even further away now, his voice raw and ragged. “FORD, HELP! DON’T LET THEM TAKE ME AWAY! FORD!”

“Stan!” Stanford screamed in response, his hands shaking, body shot with adrenaline that had no outlet. “STANLEY!”

There was a long pause, Stanford straining to hear what was happening on the other end, only picking up muffled yelling. Then there was a rustle, and the other end of the line was grabbed.

An unfamiliar voice spoke, deep and neutral, “Please do not be alarmed. One of our patients managed to escape today and has been causing quite the ruckus. On behalf of the Idaho State Psychiatric Institute, we apologize for any distress this may have caused you.”

Everything came screeching to a halt. Stanford’s jaw hung open. “Idaho… Psychiatric Institute?” he muttered back dumbly.

“Yes. We are truly sorry for the disturbance to your day our patient has caused.”

Stanley… had been institutionalized?

“So he’s not hurt?” Stanford asked, still trying to digest this new information.

“He will be perfectly fine. We have everything under control.”

Stanford wasn’t sure he believed that. He couldn’t get his brother’s cries out of his ears. He couldn’t let go of how upset and distressed Stanley had sounded.

He couldn’t forget the way Stanley had begged for his help.

Or:

Stan has a mental breakdown and ends up forcibly institutionalized. He manages to escape at one point and calls Ford, begging for help. Ford gets the wrong idea and thinks Stan is being kidnapped and panics until a nurse clears up the misunderstanding for him.

And then he goes to see his brother. Stan isn’t mentally well, but Ford can’t allow him to just sit and rot alone in an institution. Not after that phone call. Stan needs him, and Ford doubts the institute could help Stan the way Ford could. So he decides to go and collect his brother, whether the institute wants him to or not.

He won’t let Stan down a second time.

(Follow up scene found here)

[seleneprince]

Snippet of my Neglected! Family x Yandere! Batfam au (I really need to find a name for this au already)

Wife! Darling has known of the Batcave's existence for years already, and so do her children.

She found out by pure accident. Her oldest daughter was doing her usual computer stuff she didn't understand, and said she found a weird signal coming from under the manor, in the underground...only they didn't know there was anything down there, not even a basement. Alfred never mentioned it.

The girl went to check, tracing the mysterious signal with her phone, and found a hidden compartment behind the pendulum clock. Before her mother could tell her to stop, she went down there.

Cue to Wife! Darling following her daughter to make sure she didn't get in trouble or hurt herself, because who knew if Batman even bothered with basic security measures for his vigilante stuff. From what she's seen of him as Bruce Wayne, she doubted it.

And that's how they found the Batcave. By the time Alfred found out and met them there, the daughter had already tinkered with half the equipment and replicated part of the Batcomputer's code in her tablet for fun, while her mother explored the whole place with a critical eye. Alfred expected them to be angry, to ask a lot of questions, but instead:

Wife! Darling!: "Who takes care of this place?"

Alfred: "Mostly me, Mistress (Name)."

Wife! Darling squinted her eyes, gaze darkening: "Just you? Does no one help you?"

Alfred: "It's part of my job, Mistress (Name). Don't worry, I can handle it perfectly well on my own."

She scoffed. "Well, this has to change. You're just one man, Alfred, and you're not getting younger with the years. The fact that they let you do so much already by yourself is infuriating, and you also have to clean after their crime-fighting bullshit? The nerve. I'll take care of this from now on"

Alfred blinked: "Mistress (Name), I can't possibly ask you that. You already help me more than enough around the house-"

Wife! Darling: "Nonsense, Alfred. You do way too much already. At this rate, it'll only affect your health for worse. I live here too now, so technically it's also my responsibility."

And that's how she ends up handling the maintenance of the Batcave along with Alfred, even taking over his tasks entirely. She starts off with the excuse of helping him, which it's true, but eventually she always takes care everything so the man has no option but rest.

And because she's such a perfectionist, she doesn't spare any efforts in the task. Cleans all the surfaces, fixes the suits, rearranges the weapons after cleaning them and creates a system to organize their gadgets so they're much easier to find. Even the Batmobile is left spotless, inside and outside. She goes as far to feed some of the bats casually roaming around the edges of the cave.

(And if her kids had naps inside the batmobile sometimes when they were down there, only she and Alfred are witnesses. Well, the bats too, but they're not snitching)

This way she takes some work off Alfred's shoulders. She finds it enraging that a man his age has such a heavy load of work with little to no help, so she takes over some of the house chores for him so he can have breaks. Plus, it helps her unwind and relax a bit from her usually stress-fuelled life.

She also begins to leave snarky notes about the shameful state of their gear when she finds it in particularly bad shape. And feels even worse that Alfred has had to take care of all of this at his age until she came.

"This blade is duller than your sense of self-awareness. Fix it"

"Blood is not a fashion statement. Grow up"

"If you die in this crusty suit, I’m not cleaning your corpse"

"Are you fighting villains or rolling in garbage?"

Seriously, the richest man in Gotham can't even afford a bit more of staff? But of course, she reminds herself he's the same man who forgot to use protection when fucking a random woman, so she shouldn't expect too much from him.

To avoid uncomfortable encounters, she specifically schedules her cleaning times for when the whole team is out, so she can work peacefully without being having to be in the same room as them. So far, it goes well. Alfred even warns her when they're coming back, and the Batcave is actually a pretty nice place to enjoy time for yourself when it's empty. Just the beeping of the computers as background noise, or her children messing around when they go down there to do their things.

It becomes part of her routine, one she even looks forward too during the day. Until one day.

The Batcave has been left spotless, as usual. Weapons polished. Suits lined up by height and damage level. Even the Batmobile has that new-car shimmer. It smells faintly of citrus-scented cleaning spray and frustration. There are also four sticky notes scattered across the table already, complaining about the state of their things again.

She is crouched near the weapon rack, holding the Batman suit with one gloved hand and a lint roller in the other, glaring at it like it personally offended her.

She mutters under her breath in Spanish, something about how "ni siquiera una máquina de coser podría salvar este desastre de traje, Dios mío." (Not even a sewing machine could save this disaster of a suit, my godness)

She’s in sweats, hair tied back in a messy bun. An apron over her tank top that says "KISS THE COOK (or don’t, I’ll stab you)". She's so deep in the cleaning zone she doesn’t hear the footsteps.

"Well, this is a surprise. I could get used to this."

Her entire body freezes. It feels like her blood turned ice in her veins instantly with the voice. That irritating, familiar voice.

Her head turns slowly, and there he is. Bruce Wayne in the flesh. Her husband in paper, father of her first child, owner of this cave, and responsible for half of the stress she deals with.

She could be annoyed or even embarrassed that he caught her like this, handling his suit no less. But instead, her mind is focused on what he said, and the tone in which he said it.

She arches a brow at him.

"Excuse me?"

He steps closer, clearly taking note of her work there. His eyes drifting to the Batmobile, the weapons, all she's taken care of already.

Bruce: "Me, coming back from work to find you cleaning my stuff. It’s so… domestic. It’s almost like we’re a married couple."

There’s a beat. A dangerous silence.

She blinks at him. Once. Twice. Processing the fact that he really said that. Out loud. To her. And in a completely serious tone.

Then he looks at her, and she notices the ghost of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. Oh, that filthy little-

Her eye twitches.

Wife! Darling: "...........Oh, absolutely."

WHACK.

She chucks a batarang at his head with a speed and accuracy that would’ve made Deadshot whistle. He barely ducks, and it slams into the metal behind him with a THUNK so loud the Batcomputer flinches and some bats burst out from their spots.

Bruce: "That could’ve taken my eye out."

Wife! Darling:"I was hoping so."

He stares at her, and then shakes his head, letting out a low chuckle. A chuckle. Since when is this man capable of that? Before she gets her answer, he pulls out the batarang with ease and places it back on the rack (Good, she would've murdered him for real if he left it anywhere else).

Bruce: "I meant it. I think I like this sight of you. Suits you well. You look like the ideal housewife."

Without looking, she reaches for another batarang and throws it at him. This time, he catches it mid-air, cool as ever, before setting it down on the table like he isn’t one second away from getting stabbed.

Bruce: "Was that really necessary?"

Wife! Darling: "It was either that or shoot you. You're lucky I'm generous today."

He watches her, barely concealing his amusement now, but there’s something else in his expression too, something he's never had when looking at her: Curiosity.

She doesn't like it.

Unbothered, as if he didn't just activate her kill switch, he starts to walk to the table and peels off one of the sticky notes, reading it aloud with a deadpan tone.

"Blood is not a fashion statement. Grow up."

Bruce: "You know I beat the shit out of people in this suit, right?"

She replies without sparing him a glance, wiping down a grappling gun with unholy aggression: "Yeah? Well, do it without staining it with their blood. You look like Gotham’s dirtiest raccoon."

He leans against the Batcomputer, arms folded. "How long have you been doing this, exactly?"

She scoffs, going back to adjusting the suit like she isn’t being interrogated. "Long enough to know that you leave your weapons in a shameful state. Honestly, it’s a miracle your stupid gadgets still function. Do you ever bother to maintain your own things, or do you just throw them around and hope Alfred fixes it?"

He watches her for a moment longer before finally speaking.

"And you’re doing this because...?"

"Because unlike some people in this godforsaken house, I actually care when an old man is running himself ragged taking care of things that none of you seem to appreciate."

Bruce pauses. He glances at the Batmobile, cleaner than it’s ever been. At his weapons, neatly arranged, polished, functional.

At the post-it notes stuck to the Batcomputer, scrawled in Rosa’s angry handwriting.

He actually huffs a quiet laugh. Again. It's unsettling her.

Then, almost as an afterthought, she mutters, "Besides, if you die because your equipment fails, it’s only a matter of time before you try to drag me into this circus. And I refuse to wear spandex."

He raises an eyebrow. "You’d look good in spandex."

Silence.

She throws the batarang at him again. This time, it actually clips his shoulder.

"Go get that treated before you stain anything, or I'll wipe the floors next with your face."

.......................

...........

Suddenly, Bruce starts to "casually" come to the cave early more often.

Now she has to adjust her schedule AGAIN to avoid him. And in the meantime, her children start betting on how many batarangs it takes before Bruce gets critically injured. Or dead.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

thinking about witch of the wilds reader, about whom so little is known the story changes depending on which villager tells it.

hunters say she embodies everything beautiful about nature, forgetting its fickle, volatile, dangerous side.

travelers say she disappears into the shadows of the trees, running naked except for the flowering thorns woven through her hair.

the young men say whoever catches her can have her a night, but she's as fast as a minnow and wily as a rabbit.

the old women say men venture into the forest to find her and they don't return.

storytellers say you'll never find her unless you're not seeking her--that she must be a nymph or a dryad, a daughter of Baba Yaga by a forest god.

children say she hinders fools and helps only those pure of heart--pure like children understand it, because pure does not mean well-intentioned. it only means free of distraction and distortion; obsessive; all-consumed.

venture out to find her and you might find that the gap between beautiful wild maid and dangerous sorcerous trickster is vanishingly small.

these stories are all blown a bit out of proportion, but who are you to deny the legends that give you such a steady stream of human travelers to toy with?

masterlist

see also: shapeshifter familiars 141 + witch reader <3

[shycorvid]

A demon twins idea where they think they're brothers, but due to some mishaps half of Danny's DNA belongs to Dick while Damian got Bruce's. They only find this out because Danny got real mad at his Grandfather and bit him hard enough to draw blood that one time so Ra's checked to see if he got rabies from his idiot grandchild and something in those tests didn't look right. He got his doctors to investigate further and oh no that child is Grayson's, they have to get rid of him fast.

Because Bruce might get a little mad at Talia for hiding his son from him if he ever finds out, but Richard Grayson? Richard Grayson would rain hell upon them.