#out of context excerpts

[derangedrhythms]

⁠—will haunt, and by haunting satisfy me.

Elizabeth Bowen, Chill Tidings: Dark Tales of the Christmas Season; from ‘Green Holly’, ed. Tanya Kirk

[mishy-mashy]

Hi! I noticed you bring up fanfiction every once in a while, so do you have an ao3?

I DO

But the stuff I post here isn't actually written out and posted anywhere else, and my ao3 (posted stories) is pretty bare. Like, I only touch it to read other people's stuff at this point

Everything I do write is OC stuff though, and that's not everyone's jam

The stuff I do post here all comes from my notes for said fic ideas. They're all fleshed out enough that I can write them into proper stories. Like, the whole plot is figured out, I know where to end, character perspectives, all that jazz. I just don't write them out, since I don't have that motivation, and the stories would end up huge

I don't like posting the actual stories either. People have asked for updates on the new chapters I just put down, and I've run into a lot of copy-pasters. Even the few things I have on ao3 is having a mimic somewhere. So I otherwise keep everything to myself, or post little things here

I've been going through my past stuff lately to reorganize. It's fun. Even if they're old (some are over 5 years old), I find little gems that surprise me like these

(Unordinary; Re:Zero; BNHA)

Like- they aren't that bad. That's surprising. How old are these things???

[elftwink]

thinking about getting into a relisten of taz balance because the other day i was going through my old unfinished fic documents and not only do i still have a gazillion taz ones laying around 80% finished but also my taako is literally so funny it feels cruel for all these extremely good bits to rot in my hard drive forevermore

[eqt-95]

wip what is a wednesday

thanks @sssammich and @sideguitars for the double-team.

here is an excerpt from chapter 2 of to want and to have and to hold *rereads to make sure it's in the right order* (why did i pick this as the title)

- - - -

“Ok this… should… do it,” Kara huffed from the other side of the ship’s wall. 

Then there was a creak. Then the entire wall shifted. Then Lena felt a shot of pain and registered that her hand was now the filling of a metal sandwich. Then Lena did the irrationally instinctive thing and yanked. Hard. 

“Shit,” Lena hissed once freed.

Then she did the logical thing of shaking her hand to futilely flick away the ‘ouch’ raging through her palm.

Kara was there in an instant. She arrived with a burst of wind and a blast of sand. “What? What happened?”

“Nothing,” Lena answered. The protective way she clutched her hand disagreed. <something something ‘object impermanence’>

“Was that-?” Kara rushed, hands hovering with the hesitation of a housefly. “Oh Roa, Lena did I-”

“No,” Lena interrupted. “I wasn’t thinking and-”

“You’re always thinking,” Kara mumbled. “I should’ve…” Her hesitation faded and two impossibly warm, impossibly strong, impossibly delicate hands traced over Lena’s hand and the harsh red and blooming purple spreading across her pale skin. 

“Kara, really it’s ok-”

“No it isn’t,” Kara replied, unable to tear her eyes away from the angry discoloration. “Here.”

Lena stared at the rag Kara picked up with worthy skepticism. ‘Skepticism’ became ‘dawning realization’ when Kara exhaled and the worn fabric glistened with icy crystals. Its normalcy looked so alien. 

Hand still clutched protectively in one hand, Kara wrapped the rag around Lena’s hand with a reverence that bordered on religious. The effect was instantaneous. Throbbing pain was muted by the coolness of quickly melting ice. 

It wasn’t the only thing melting.

Lena cleared her throat. Re-solidified.

“Y-you have freeze breath.” It was said matter-of-factly. Rhetorically. With a crack in her hushed voice.

“Oh, uh, yea,” Kara remarked with a tinge of red to her cheeks. She didn’t hear the ‘rhetorical’. 

“No, I mean, I know that,” Lena clarified. “I-I know you have freeze breath.”

“Right, right-”

“You know you have freeze breath.”

“Uh… yes?”

“You’ve had it the whole time.”

And then it clicked for Kara. Kara, superhero and possessor of extra-human strength and magical qualities like freeze breath, had gone weeks in the desert without water or air-conditioning. “Oh. Oh. I-I didn’t mean to-”

“And we forgot,” Lena observed. The trace of a smirk appeared. It was a silly thing.

“W-we-?”

“Does that happen a lot? In the field?” Lena asked, interrupting Kara’s confused stammering.

Kara’s jaw bobbed open and closed with the grace of a fish. “Kinda?”

Lena nodded. An opening. A hand still linking them.

“It’s just that…” Kara began then paused. Her gaze remained fixed on Lena’s hand. Her fingers fidgeted with the now-damp rag. Her lips let honesty tumble out. “Sometimes there are all of these things happening, a-and sometimes it’s overwhelming to like, think about who’s in danger, how many bad guys there are, what’s the context that I-I don’t really have time to pick the best thing?”

Lena leaned against the wall of the ship, pondering for a moment. “That makes sense.”

“Really?” Owlish eyes blinked up from Lena’s hand to meet hers.

“Sure,” Lena answered. She shrugged. Kara stared. “Decision paralysis. You’ve got inputs and parameters changing in real time and every choice can impact life or death. It makes sense.”

“I-uh-”

“Can I get another blast of ice? This is going to swell.”

- - - -

i would LOVE to see wip bits and bobs from everyone, but I'm gonna tag a couple I haven't seen bits and bobs from in a while: @ekingston, @lovepotionnumber5, @vox-ex, @fabulousglitch, and @inkedroplets. as always, tagged respectfully and without pressure but i'll geek if y'all come out and play.

[electronickingdomfox]

McCoy knows too much about Spock's "magic fingers", and Spock isn't amused by him blurting it out on the bridge.

From "Chain of Attack" by Gene DeWeese

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Out of context line

Thank to @somethingclevermahogony here, @paeliae-occasionally here, @the-golden-comet here, and @mysticstarlightduck here!

Rules: post a line out of context!

I go back to SOTL and it's not hard to find something new.

From School of the Legends Year One

“Great! Do you have any interests?” Jack genuinely tried to think. “I like spending time with the cows.”

Tagging @ceph-the-ghost-writer @thepeculiarbird @honeybewrites @somethingclevermahogony @writingamongther0ses

+ ANYONE ELSE

SOTL intro

SOTL tag list (ask to be +/-): @illarian-rambling @katwritesshit @wyked-ao3

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

Returning to Paris, I had to pay. With rage in my heart and often tears in my eyes (the makeup artist Chakatouny lamented each morning my poor appearance, and couldn't make me look any better), I made one film — just one — to guarantee the freedom of a person I loved. I was ugly, terrible; everything in me refused to be. I still remember the look of my [screen] partner Raymond Rouleau (who knew Igor and the causes of my breakdown) studying me and trying in vain to give me a little encouragement!

— Edwige Feuillère reflecting on the making of Mam'zelle Bonaparte (1942) and aiding the escape of her fiancé (named here as Igor) from Nazi-occupied France

(From Les Feux de la mémoire by Edwige Feuillère, 1977. Translated by me. ♡)

[blaithnne]

I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew.

Or, Chapter 10 of Lauren's backstory is here

[coevalities]

la miséricorde divine

Stop, says the hierophant, mildly. Do not look for him in me. You’ll only hurt yourself if you try. 

Why would it hurt me, asks Chrom, challenging, to know that the man I trust most still lives?

A curl of amusement, sharp. Because handling broken glass tends to cut, prince. A pause, considering. Ah, but. Would you prefer it regardless? To know that I am still Robin, that I am- a hand pressed over the heart, dramatic, demonstrative, eyes wide and guileless- the same, somewhere deep down? That the man you know still exists? Eyes gold, innocent, naive to what he truly is? The hierophant paces, one-two, stepping to the exalt’s side as he begins to circle the clearing, thoughtful, head cocked like the bird of his namesake as he presses his eyes closed for a long moment. Would you be reassured by knowing that the man who so steadfastly stands by your side, who's spent many a sleepless night with you in the strategy tents is the same monster that haunts your daughter’s nightmares and tore the world to pieces?

You’re- False start, stop. There’s a blockage in his throat that he won’t let on exists as Chrom swallows past it, keeping his tone steady with the practiced ease of a general at war. You’re doing this on purpose, he says. You’re trying to scare me, to force me to back down and take it back, and before the man in front of him can take that as his answer and cut him off Chrom barrels on, but that means I’m right—

And if you are? What does that earn you? Robin grins, gentle and sweet as he spins on his heel, the corners of his mouth pulling back and baring teeth. His arms splay out, inviting embrace or to be run through as his eyes glitter. His tone is light, none of the knowing, mocking amusement borne from certainty that Plegia's hierophant so often possessed to be found in his voice. Were it not for the words he speaks— The knowledge that kind, self-sacrificing Robin is the one who will end the world, and do so of his own volition? Ah, but of course, we are one and the same— does this make you feel better, Chrom?

No? And now he laughs, cruelty lacing the sound. Good. Make sure you keep that division between us. It will be better for you in the end. He leans in, raises a finger to Chrom’s lips, an intimate echo of a lover’s hush. 

Let it not be said, Robin says, molten gold meeting Ylissean blue, that the Fell Dragon knows nothing of mercy.

[aintgonnatakethis]

Out of Context Line/Last Line Tag

Thank you @gioiaalbanoart (x) @lancedoncrimsonwings (x) @fortunatetragedy (x) (x) (x)

As I'm doing so many in one you can have two lines! Both from my Kolya fic, which I posted the second chapter of today!

"Is that you, Sheppard?" Kolya's speech was slightly slurred, but still strong, still defiant, still unbroken. "You're not going to disappoint your new master, are you?"

"Do you think your skin would grow back?" Sheppard heard himself ask, even though he had not told his tongue to form the words.

Tagging: @the-golden-comet @wyked-ao3 @chaniis-atlantis @sga-owns-my-soul @paeliae-occasionally

[derangedrhythms]

the lover’s song, the song of death.

Carol Ann Duffy, The Bees; from ‘The Woman in the Moon’

[dallonwrites]

actually making my tags from my last post into their own post. writers who struggle with grammar, spelling, typos, errors etc i love you. writers who struggle with rereading their stuff thoroughly no matter how much they try, who don't always have access to other people to help them read i love you. whilst reading through and checking for these things is good practice i really believe that the weight of it should not be put wholly on the writer's shoulders. especially writers who are neurodivergent, disabled, have any condition that can impede their reading + comprehension, are overworked and overtired, are not writing in their native language, list goes on....because grammar mistakes/language mistakes/typos have nothing to do with your abilities as a creative. this is where editors should be uplifting writers, helping them, not scrutinising them for something they cannot always control

[deliciouskeys]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many as you like)

Thank you @phoenixtakaramono, @bisexualhomelander, @kosmochlor, @merry-andrews, and @plasticfangtastic for no pressure tagging me. ETA: Ugh, forgot to c/p this part above the cut: a lot of people already did this but no pressure tags to @eutz , @snow-white-9999 , @blaacknoir , @lunarpunisher , and yes you too @xieyaohuan 😉

Does anyone else find it hard to do this lol? My spatial "last line" in every google doc of a chapter in progress is a graveyard of text that I wrote but then removed. And my last line where I stopped is often for a good reason, not just because I ran out of time. So it's a line that is likely to go into the graveyard next time I look at it.

I don't know if this fic (chapter) will ever see the light of day, but technically this is the last thing I wrote:

Sometimes his imagination took him to more ludicrous places. Asking William what he wants. And when this coarse filthy-mouthed Brit would inevitably tell him to go suck his dick in the same tone as ‘go to hell’, by god, maybe he’d grin and do it, even though he’s never done anything like it before, just to enjoy the bewilderment on William’s face. He wanted to see William undone, dramatically, humiliatingly, by his own hand. He wanted to thank him for taking care of Ryan in the same breath as telling him he’d been waiting to see this sight. He wanted to deposit him back where he plucked him from, and in the morning have breakfast all together as a family, maybe William looking a little worse for the wear, maybe Ryan noticing but never guessing why.

The last thing I wrote of something that will see the light of day, but maybe not this particular part lol:

“He doin’ alright?” “He’s… doin’ better each day, let’s just say that.” “Looked fine in yesterday’s photos plastered all over the papers.” Butcher shrugs. “Yeah, he was damn intent on taking a good picture. They had a whole operation set up in the flat, hair and makeup, them lighting umbrellas and white backdrop and everything. But he hasn’t even been up and about much. They had to airbrush his face, he’s been so fucking pale.” “The baby get airbrushed too?” Judy asks and Butcher smiles because that's just like her. “Not while I was on watch. I’m sure they touched everything up in post though. None of 'em magazine pics ever look real.”

[seasteading]

ARENT YOU TIRED OF BEING NICE? DONT U JUST WANNA GO APE SHIT? ↳ A CHARACTER STUDY

if it seems like i haven't touched my main wip in 2 months, that's because i haven't 😋

instead, anyone unfortunate enough to have spoken more than a sentence to me will have realized that i've spent that time in baldurs gate 3 hell, with nothing but durge brainrot to show for it—brainrot i will now inflict on main with some selected excerpts <3

transcripts under cut:

She does not remember many fairytales, but she thinks this one starts the same way as all the rest: a princess to flee a castle, a handsome knight to save her from the shadows that haunt the woods. The princess does not have a name beyond her title. The knight is called Griseis. She speaks it aloud. There is no tugging at her memory, no rush of truth. Yet it is the name of a creature with the purpose to vanquish, same as her, and all those with a purpose must have a name.  “My name is Griseis,” she tries. It holds no magic, but she likes the way it rests upon her tongue, like it could belong there. She slips the waterlogged fairytale into her pack.

Yet beneath the drone of busywork, the urges remain. They bid her to tear the legs off a rabbit caught in the brambles that surround the garden, and Atonement endures. A stained glass window shatters, and they bid her to pick a shard off the floor and cut through Novice Clements’ fragile throat. Atonement endures. They infect her dreams. Behind her eyelids flicker visions of a temple in ruins, of Ilmater’s statue bathed in the blood of his faithful, so she works more, sleeps less.

And he laughs at her. Brings his uninjured hand to her jaw and pushes his thumb under her upper lip, using her own slack shock to pry her mouth open. Finger pressed against a sharp canine, “Look at you. Bhaal’s Chosen, the purest of his spawn, baring your teeth like a damn dog.” She doesn’t have to think about it. Put your hand by a dog’s mouth, and expect to get bitten. She bites.

But the painter who’d put her features to canvas saw something else, too. Maybe the taint in her blood had made it into the pigments. Maybe it’d been Bhaal himself guiding their hand, ensuring proper justice be given to his spawn’s visage. Griseis looks, and the Dread Lord’s Chosen looks right back.

[aeide-thea]

guy who’s only ever lived in the current era: [phenomenon] sure seems unique to the current era!

[qoldenskies]

Bingo card for Canary Continuity but it’s just me underlining and circling which signs on the B.I.T.E. model are in the fic

OHHHHHHH YEAH BABY THIS SHIT GETS CULT !!!! LIKE !!!!!!!!!!!!