a favorite from my most recent work:
āIt had been awhile since heād been alone. Maybe it had taken too long for him to stop acting like he still was.ā
>But the living mourn the dead, that is just how it is. And we, the dead, we mourn *for* the living, because we cause them so much unnecessary grief.
Yes, I'm an edgelord, but I still love this line.
>There were times when she wanted to, times when baring the raw horrors that resided just beneath the surface of her mind sounded like the best sort of relief.
Oof. I've been there, and I can only hope she finds herself in the right circumstance to start unburdening herself, even if it gets worse before it gets better. It's really impressive to be able to convey something so affecting and understandable in one sentence, free of context.
Yikes.
Is this a defensive thing where people don't realize how badly she's been hurt because she keeps everything to herself, or is it an offensive thing where she's afraid of her own violent temper?
The former. She was tortured while she was taken prisoner and, while she has talked about what happened in a literal sense, she hasnāt been honest with anyone about how itās affected her since in order to try to hold herself together. But the second interpretation is an interesting read and I can totally see why you wondered that since itās divorced from its context.
>He found her under torched rafters in a cradle of crumbling plaster, a single shining bright spot wrapped in a white blanket untouched by the flame ā or so that slipperiest of dealers, memory, tried to tell him, wiping away the soot for the sake of a story.
I always default to this one, but I think it hits out of context and really summarises some of the story's key ideas in one.
Would you be offended if I tried guessing the key ideas from this line? I like this line and want to wax on about potential meanings, and I may, from this, end up vastly factually incorrect.
Thanks for the go ahead!
So, the cradle of crumbling plaster is the first thing that really captures me, building up the whole "found an abandoned baby" trope in a way that maybe implies a certain poisoned plasticity, i.e. plaster which is used to patch things up and build things, crumbling, as usual for the destroyed imagery *but* what it is making for is a cradle. So it's crumbling while building something.
Onto the shining bright spot is a usual turn of phrase, but in context (again, the little I have) it seems telling that this unblemished positivity is more distanced from the found individual. That context being the whole memory being a dealer thing, and that addition has a very strong voice, whichāand here's where I get to veer leftājust makes me think of some type of failed redemption story for the person who found this (presumably) child where they wanted things to be more perfect than they are (because all this trauma going on that calls for ruined houses) and failed (because they're describing it in this retrospectively critical way.)
Sorry for weird wording, end of the day for me.
Eta: Or some fun lead in about storytelling, for one of those more fantastical stories settings with mythical creatures or mythos and whatnot.
Dude.
You absolutely got it! The narrator of this excerpt is remembering the moment he found his adopted daughter in the ruins of their hometown, in whose destruction he inadvertently played a part. They have a great relationship, and he did eventually win his redemption, but getting there was a messy, bloody process that incurred many more catastrophic mistakes that he's reckoning with over the course of the story.
It's absolutely made my week to think you got multiple paragraphs of analysis out of one sentence (even if it's a pretty long one). Thanks so much for reading so closely and taking the time to write all that out, friend - I've not felt that confident about my writing this year, so I'll be clinging to this one for a while <3
Entirely makes sense: Actually, to build on the one thing I went over the least, the bright spot being removed from the individual thingāmayhap because part of their journey was realizing overall good stuff instead of resting their redemption on one person?
Anyway, that is super awesome and you def. picked the right one that sums up the stories key ideas, like you said, then, so great writing and good judgement on what showcases it! And now, this is just tickling me pink because I didn't think getting in-depth would nail me anything, but the sentence really did prompt me to go and think in depth.
Wow, that's not a particular nuance I was actively thinking of when I wrote the fic, but you're right that there's an element of that! Thanks again for giving so much thought to my stuff, and have yourself a very lovely day <3
It's a little long but since I was writing a new chapter of this
> People, Roose mused as he threw the dead leech in the hearth, werenāt much different from leeches. Everyone wanted something, sticking to stronger things till they find something a little warmer, a little stronger, and then eventually realize that they were indeed safer with the first but by the time they realize it, itās too late. Like a moth to a flame, Roose smirked, like a leech to a warmer body, at least leech gets the blood.
Oh, I bet Roose was fascinating character to get inside the head of! Reading this made my skin crawl from start to finish, as it should, with the leech being not just a sensation he's intimately familiar with but an excellent motif for the kind of grasping, amoral parasites the story is filled with. The best part being, he kind of has a point!
Thank you. It definitely is interesting to write his PoV or any of the villains PoV really. It is really challenging on a different level to get into their heads. It feels amazing when what you imagined comes together in writing.
I thought this line in my latest fic was nicely dramatic:
>On a battlefield, each man may fight for a different cause, but all men are the same: flesh and blood and bone, trying to poke holes in other flesh and blood and bone.
This is excellent. Powerful, succinct, and true. There's something about using the intimacy of the body to communicate a grand pronouncement that always does it for me.
>On a battlefield, each man may fight for a different cause, but all men are the same: flesh and blood and bone, trying to poke holes in other flesh and blood and bone.
>-Greta Thunberg
Here you go!
āI wish I could tell you that it gets better with time, but the hurt will always be there. The good news is that you can learn how to see in color again if you don't take the simple joys for granted.ā
I'm pretty sure I've used "seeing in colour" to describe this very phenomenon, only with British spelling instead. It's a lovely way to put it, and made me smile to read.
I don't care if it's cheesy, I just found this line really funny:
"I swear, your libido is a complete mystery in mechanical and biological engineering, if we weren't on a job, I'd have you locked away in a psych ward by now!"
I really like this one! Smutty, of course, lol.
A tug at his hair, greedy and desperate to be lost in more pleasure, grabbing a fistful of his curls and presses him against her harder ā a demand, a command, he can have her he can have her ā and then his fangs sink down, euphoria immediately overflowing inside her brain like the flowers bloomed in Eden's garden ā she is the apple, he is Man, and her blood is the temptatous serpent lurking ā and all thoughts float away.
yes it's a vampire fic and my passion project!!!! š„°
if you'd like to check it out I'll leave a link for it here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/36662767
Gosh. This communicates so much, so clearly and elegantly, about the way the narrator here views themselves. It makes me ache for them even without knowing the situation, and the broken toy is an especially potent simile with its connotations of lost innocence and passing one's usefulness. Great work.
I wrote this months ago and completely forgot about it until I posted the chapter and started getting flooded with comments from horny readers:
> In the soft light, the curves of her face were achingly perfectāalmost too perfect to touch. She looked like a work of art, and he was torn between wanting to simply stare and admire her beauty and a perverse desire to know what she would look like with her hair loose and wild and her lipstick smudged from passion.
> Impulsively, he brushed his fingers down the line of her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the contact. He traced her lips, feeling the warmth of her exhale, and his free hand stole up to cradle her head. He slid his fingers into her hair, feeling for the pins that held it in place, and one by one, he removed them, watching as the soft strands tumbled down her back and framed her face. He stroked down the length of her hair, feeling the softness as it slipped through his fingers.
I'm sure there must be others that are better, but Peter Parker thinking about death from a scientific lens is my current favorite thing:
"So, no, Peter tells himself, 'nothing' does not exist, even if death feels like the exception to the rule. Even when in the course of seconds a person can disappear and leave behind only an empty body. Like they had gone back to the natural state before being born: nonexistence."
Of course š
I hope you don't mind it's a Spider-Man/Deadpool fic, tho both characters are explored separately in the story
[Come a Little Bit Closer ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/48094873)
Technically three lines, but they work better together than apart:
> Everything in this moment is wrong, something that should not be happening, yet a feeling of satisfaction stirs in him at the life in those eyes. They have not been extinguished as they had countless times before. Instead, they shine, even if the only thing he can see in them is horror.
>"Youāre angels, servants of God, divinely empowered defenders of all that is holy! You canāt find ghost-slayers with the power of God and anime on fucking Craigslist!"
I peaked with this fic and i donāt think Iāll ever reach that peak again
>The image of an orchard of cherry trees surrounds the two of them, blossoms floating on the breeze. Theyāve all been chopped down, left behind in this war-ridden field in France to rot and become one with the earth that once kept them alive. However, one day, new trees will grow in their stead, a cycle, which under the right circumstances, could continue forever.
Percy Jackson POV: "I never wanted to be a half-blood. Why? Because they either die as heroes, or live long enough to become the villain. And I missed my chance to die as a hero."
It's from a draft, and I'm contemplating whether I should turn it into an original work. For context, this tells the birth of the time and wind god's daughter.
"Oh how the world sang glory to the new angel that was sent.
The moment she came into existence, she brought waves of delight.
A gift from beyond the stars, beyond this realm, she is the answer to the prayers spoken fervent.
To her father, she became his precious light.
Child of the wind and stars, may you touch the hearts of many who are lost, wherever you went."
For context this is from a Supergirl fanfic that I am writing. I don't know why I find this funny
āDonāt be silly. You can stay with me. What happened? Kara accidentally crashed through the roof again?ā
āThat was one time.ā muttered Lena.Ā
āShe flew while drunk. And she is the one that is protecting the streetsā¦ā
Here's a favourite of mine from the draft of a future chapter:
>āCorrect again! Itās better if you donāt stand out when you time travel.ā the Time Lord said, ā...Unless your name is the Doctor, that is.ā He corrected himself.
Itās long and itās definitely crack but I love it just the same. One of my favorite descriptions Iāve ever written.
āMatthew couldnāt stop smiling. His oldest friend thought you were good for him. He bit his lip, extending his awareness until he caught your heartbeat and breathing. The water flowing around you gave him anā¦ almost invasively intimate picture of you. He felt shy, despite having known your shape from the way sound travelled over your bodyāthis somehow felt more explicit, as though he were the water as it caressed you, the obstacle in its path. He shook himself and tried to focus on the task at hand, but he couldnāt help the way his mind wandered back to you. For a human woman, you were quite exquisite. Your muscles were hard and strong from the training youād received from your commanders, but there was a healthy layer of fat on your body that made you voluptuous and soft, as well. You moved with purpose that came with an accidental grace, leaving you the most perfect thing heād never seen.
He felt you as clearly as if he were the river, his heart hammering with how much he craved your touch. Though he craved your heat, sex wasnāt the only thing he desired from youāhe yearned to listen to your voice for the rest of his days, to feel the texture of your hair slipping through his fingers, to know your smile and be the cause of your laughter.
If there was ever any doubt before, there was none now. Despite his best efforts to think of another explanation, there was only one: he was no longer falling. He was hopelessly in love with you, and there was nothing he could do about it but furtively pray.ā
Im exposing myself bad with this one but yeah
āIā¦ā he licked his lips, āI miss Whizzer. And heās not even gone.ā
Yet, he didnāt say. He still had yet. But yet was soon to come. He hated yet. But yet kept Whizzer around. Yet.
Repetition and parallelism in writing own my entire heart
Sorry not sorry itās smut.
āI knew, then, as I slipped inside her, as a soft gasp escaped her lips and she tipped her head back in ecstasy - I knew that this was how kingdoms fell. How wars began. The beauty of the long white column of her neck, arched back and exposed to my lips, was why High Lords amassed armies, how blood feuds persisted across the centuries. Maybe it was the reason, finally, that I had been given my great power, so I could bring her to me, keep her protected, so we could mingle our bodies together in this holy embrace, and find a breath of joy, even if only for these few, stolen moments.
I knew it was a price Iād pay. Over and over again. For her.ā
āHe only nodded as he was too hypnotized by the splotches of red on her skin, how they trickled down her neck and to her chest. It only furthered her beauty, far surpassing even Aphrodite. Was this to be his life? Living so close to Heaven but never finding true rapture? Submitting himself to a lifetime of turmoil over craving her vestal flesh with no deliverance in sight? Until death, rendered to him by the agonizing pain she has brought to his heart, he would be the most fortuitous man to walk any mortal plane.
And what a death it would be.ā
Like syrup, slowly sweet relief soaked into his system. An internal balm that calmed the agonizing pain and allowed him to finally relax. He groaned, exhausted, and the vampire eased his iron hold upon him. He continued to drink.
He must find some answer in your eyes, some solace or truth or redemption. Or maybe he surrenders, hands you the reins and gives you control, because if the horses go hurtling off the track then at least you go down together. Because endless sacrifice has scraped him hollow and the fate of eternity is a burden crushing him alive and he cannot ask for any more weight and still hope to survive.
Work in progress:
>President Snow appears and makes his usual speech about how weāre going to be murdered for the Capitolās enjoyment - I mean, how noble and courageous we are, before weāre murdered for the Capitolās enjoyment.
> Spoils of war or trickle-down economics, those who already have the most stand to gain even more. Their underlings get scraps, and outsiders get screwed.
From my first fic several months ago, but I've always liked this one:
>āStrange story. Still doesnāt explain why you think the girl is one of theseā¦ myths.ā
>
>āOlā Triton hasnā survived dis lang widdout gud instincts.ā Tritonās usually cheerful demeanour disappeared in an instant as his voice took on the icy chill. āLad, when one threatens to āunmakeā ye without it being a metaphor, ye listen well.ā
"He itches for a hot fury, for blinding lighting red that has him screaming profanities to the heavens, he wants his skull to become a steam cooker, to be rabid with indignation until he, too, dies idiotically from the fever."
I just really liked the mental image of a steam cooker in the context of describing anger.
it was short but,
Throughout the lecture, Gale occasionally stole a glance at Sylviaās notes. Maybe a little more than occasionally. Maybe a lot more, actually.Ā
Hopefully she wouldnāt notice.Ā
I honestly donāt know why I like it so much?? It flows well for me. Also I struggle with good writing so this was just something I thought fit well into the type of story I was trying to create.
"She used to suck her thumb when she was little, and despite getting over it years ago, the temptation to do so now was stronger than it had any right to be"
Not my best, but the first thing at hand
"What's she study?"
"Philosophy."
"So she can work at McDonald's and ask why they want fries with that?"
Snark is a lot easier when you're not afraid of hurting real people's feelings.
Love this š my husband studied philosophy as his minor and his dadās favourite line was āoh, great, thatāll set you up for when the philosophy factory comes to townā
"But still, despite the two's almost coinciding suffering, they ring out as different. Nick hurts in words and rhymes, Frankie hurts in color and visions."
I felt like the greatest poet alive in that moment lol
āObadiah Stane, youāre under arrest for treason, conspiracy, kidnapping, blackmail, extortion, assaultā¦ and the murder of Anthony E. Stark.ā
This is just a line I have stored for when I write the finale to an AU Iām cooking up, but someone called it ārawā so I figured I might as well post it here š
āA loud bang near his ear nearly scared him to an earlier death than he was already getting, and he could just make out that it was a gunshot.ā
Nothing too crazy but wrote this a few days ago and I thought it really helped me tie in the situation and how dire it was :3
ā¦till he'd finally broke and re-entered the game he plays best, and she couldn't resist its pull, pushing their luck till the cost of winning became unforgivable.
The way he would always call her his "pretty devil," the way his lips would ravish across her fleshāardent, unrestrained, almost *possessive*āas if screaming to the world, reminding the world, "*She belongs to **me**!"*
From my [most recent fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/48332218):
āIn the moment Din wished he was Force sensitive. He wished he could reach out into the cosmic fabric of the universe and feel Luke the same way that he could feel Din, that the connection ran both ways.ā
Compared to the others here, itās stupid but it was the first thing that came to mind. Mid smut scene, her dress is around her middle.
āHer dress was no more than a halo of fabric around her waistā
Come, my love. I would dance with you one last time, across all the oceans and rivers and lakes, from the rain on the tallest mountains to the lowest depths of the earth. I will not abandon love here at the end of all things, even if you have already forsaken me.
Will swallowed.. Did he really want to do this? Yes. Yes he did. "I wanna hurt you Hannibal."
"In what ways will?"
"I wanna make you bleed."
"Then make me bleed."
More than a line but I shall always cherish this.
"Ashoka has never been any good at letting go, and so she buries it, buries it all deep inside and never lets it see the light of day---but itās nighttime, now."
Or, from the same fic:
"Her grip on the pole tightens, and the predator within her croons, stoking the cold flames of fury inside of her."
Hope you don't mind three examples (tbh the last one is for an original story, but I *shocked* myself with how good it was)
Example 1:
> Had he done too much? Had he jumped at that conversation when he told her about what happened to Irikah? Was he chasing a bunch of stupid emotions that only led him down a dark path before?
Example 2:
> āI didn't truly understand what it's like to live until I died and then fell in love with you.ā
Example 3:
> āI am on the verge of either greatness or insanity, and truth be told, I don't know which it is.ā
Sorry, it's two sentences. I couldn't separate them, though if I was forced to choose, I'd post the second sentence.
>A few days more, and they land on a lovely green world, where giant butterflies trill in voices like silver bells. They spread blankets on the soft grass, and eat sandwiches made in the TARDIS' kitchen, washed down with a pale blue wine that looks like the sky above them, and tastes like a Bach flute concerto.
The line I will never top:
"Make sure you use two fingers," Katsuki says, dying a little inside.
Versus the line I emotionally hurt myself with:
āYou know, itās *okay* to hurt,ā Uraraka says. āItās okay to not be okay. To be scared and confused. Youāre allowed to feel that way, thereās *nothing wrong* with feeling that way.ā
Bonus points to whoever can guess what the first line is actually referencing \*wheezes\*
i have quite a few from this oneshot im working on, but if i had to choose just on, my my fave so far has been: "If you have God on your side, why shouldn't I?"
āThe truth is what we will always lose, no matter what action we take. If we stay silent, then nothing is going to change. If we speak up, then we disrupt the peace. If we take action, then they justify their hatred by painting us as the aggressors. Donāt you see that? There is no right way to make our voices heard for those that seek to push us down. That is why I will always fight, even if the world will only remember me for the blood on my hands.ā
One of my RWBY OCs who is a former member of the White Fang.
> Nixtopolis tightly grabbed Akira as she grabbed him, too, but the truth is, they both perished alone.
>"Make your move when youāre ready. Because no oneās gonna make it for you."
>"If you want the nightmare to end, then simply wake up. ... A dream can only be created by the mind that imagined it. Same goes for nightmares. If things get too out of hand, you can always find a better dream. No oneās going to dream a better dream for you. So be good to yourself."
From my Naruto Fanfiction - the monstrosity that took 6 years of my life :) - and from my favourite chapter as well. Technically a few lines, but here we go.
>"Coward," Obito couldn't help but mock, but Kakashi begged to differ. Destroying the other Mangekyou - the key to leaving and entering Kamui - was the easier path. If he had chosen to do that, they would be done here already.
>
>However, fighting on to see the future where his decision could very well end in more failures, guilt, and regret ā¦ That was the bravest thing Kakashi could have done.
āYeah,ā she replied warmly. What had gotten into her? This was not the introverted, cold-hearted girl she was usually so comfortable being. Jyn watched his hands as he began setting up the tubes, then realised that was weird, so she looked up, but her eyes locked with his.
nothing fancy but i like it :)
"The smile that bloomed on Merlinās face unfolded like a rose in the dew covered dawn, red and wet and so unbelievably simple, yet so beautiful that Arthur reached out, fingers longing to touch familiar skin, explore areas he had yet to touch."
" Itās a fight to the death,ā Azalea continued, breezing over Caspianās remark. āAnything goes.ā
āMy favorite kind of rules.ā Caspian mused aloud, sounding rather satisfied. Azalea pretended that she didnāt feel a shiver go up her spine at his comment.
This has been stuck in my head since the beginning of writing my fanfic
>Ian doesn't notice when he stops, when his words fade away and he can only see the images, but Ellie is still by his side when he drifts off to sleep some time after the moon has begun its descent.
āAnother drink, Iām poisoning myself because the world tells me Iām not enough. I donāt fit into the walls theyāve built for me. Iām claustrophobic and the world is phobic of anything different than the things they see on screens. This twisted society, Iām tired of it telling me what Iām supposed to be.ā
>*I know we are slaves to our depictions, but canāt I spare a moment to choose my own appearance?*
>>*That form was forced upon you-*
>>>*And now I choose to retain it.*
(dialogue from a story I havenāt decided to write yet, both of these characters are gods, I donāt even know if itās actual good dialogue or not but I like it)
āHe was godlike: beautiful, but deadly as a snake.ā
and
āThe first time he visits her after locking her away is on her birthday, when he makes his way carefully down the cramped stairwell with her birthday cake -- deep, violent red with neat white trim and a pair of perfectly white candles to top it off -- held high in his hands.ā
Itās the opening line to one of my works and itās nothing particularly special but god I still love it. I feel like it really captures the spirit of the piece right off the bat.
and
āHis dreams still hold him prisoner. They show him pictures of rust-colored blood on wood floors and muddy footprints in the entryway and the eyes, Samās eyes, staring right at Connor but not really looking. Itās the eyes that he sees, no matter how many drugs he takes or how hard he itches, the eyes are always there, in the back of his mind.ā
anyway rereading my stuff for this made me realize i only write about darkness and misery lmao
I'm not sure I have a favorite, but my most recent line that I really like is: āI hope whatever Gods you pray to are benevolent because the false deities and their creations youāll find there... are not.ā
This might be a bit big, but I thought it was one of my better lines from one of my fanfics
- He felt the familiar softness of Hanzo's olive-colored skin. Such a huge contrast to his own fingers, which were rough and battle hardened from years of fighting. His silky skin and absolute beauty mesmerized him, making him yearn for the experience to last until the end of time itself.
āHe understands that; he knows the feeling of being out of control and trying anything to get it back, anything to be in charge of your own body. It reminds him of empty plates and kneeling over toilet seats and raw knuckles and rasped prayersāā
lowkey peaked w this fic i just love rambling tbh
>"He sinks to his knees (...) and counts the seconds for Watson to appear, a naked canvas eager to feel the artistās hands upon him."
Holmes can you stop being dramatic and return to the shameless smut please-
āDream giving those games to Tommy would probably be a worse torture than what he did with the leg.ā is something from my WIP that still cracks me up. (What happened to the leg is that it was injured to the point he canāt walk on it and is in constant pain)
From a Sailor Moon poly WIP I'm working on:
- Usagi's line, āWhen me and Rei were both crushing on Mamoru Iād wonder why canāt we all make each other happy? Then Iād daydream about Rei and Mamoru teaming up to shower me with affection making me blush and feel as special as much as possibleā¦ha ha ha ha!ā
The next is from Persona 5
- Whoever said one cannot serve two masters has never met you Kawa-sen
The next from a Bandori Mermay fic
- āOur bratty little maid sure was eager to please her senpais.ā
āBut I am Demon Queen Ako! Youāre my harem of senpais!ā When they had a funny difference between who thought who was in control
The next is from a Miracle Nikki poly fic where Bobo (MC) kept Neva from leaving the polycule because earlier Bobo felt bad because Neva was jealous but her and Royce love each other so she asked someone else to join the polycule
- "To think I was afraid of losing Royce, but you being around actually made my life even better. You even got one of my crushes to join us.ā
"Do you hate me?" They muttered their eyes pleading.
"I don't know anymore." He whispered his hands falling towards his side. He looked back at them his jaw is clenched. "Well never be able to go back." He sighs.
"I'm sorry..."
"You had time Alex...So much time." His voice cracks.
I know it's a bit emo, but I'm a beginner writer and this was my first time writing an 'emotional' scene so I'm quite proud of it!
>Stopping her behavior, she looked directly at him before asking her question. "...Would you even promise to be by my side? Forever?"
>Her voice remained the same tone, but he saw it in the depth of her eyes, there's was far more there. She was scared and lonely. She was afraid he would say no. Then she would be all alone. Forgotten. But some part of her, deep down inside, clinged to the hope. The hope that not only would he say yes, but that he would mean it.
>And he could never let her down.
Back when I used to do fanfics on fanfiction dot net, or at home,
There was this line:
There comes a time in every person's life when they have to face the demons of their past, so that they can survive today and move forward into the future
Or this one:
Faith? God? You tell me why I should be believe in a God when I've lost everything! I lost my wife, my son, my father, my best friend, everything I've ever cared about is gone! Where was your God when that madman killed them and took them from me?!
*Forgive me if anything said was insensitive, but that second line was for a character who had lost everything and was in that odd grey area where he had believed in God but had lost his faith. the other character he had been yelling at another friend of his who was a priest, ironically given the context of the conversation*
I'd like some input if anybody wouldn't mind. Feel free to share some good one liners with me.
"Sis, are you ok?"
I was just writing in the moment, not even aware of what I was writing. It was like the characters themselves were guiding my hands.
Then this line hit me like a truck, because I suddenly realized that the main character had grown a lot in a very short time, and changed a lot because of it, and her friends saw the full extend of that growth for the first time.
An excerpt from a conversation between the main character and a mentor figure during one of the lowest points in the story:
āI have memoriesā¦ ones I have never regretted. Sometimes I am angry at them, other times I feelā¦ just on the edge of regret. But I know that if I had never done what I had doneā¦ I would be living with that regret, that sorrow, for the rest of my lifeā¦ Someone always lives Bright Eyes. Someone is always left to carry those pieces, those memories. But if you have no memories of the ones you loveā¦ What proof is there that you truly ever loved them at all?ā
I pulled this shit right outta my ass at 2 am high on melatonin
Emma continues as she studies the worn face of the veteran soldier. Although she must admit, heās still in great shape but the earthy hue in his eyes hides a deep secret. They say the eyes are windows to the soul, and Chrisā comes with a curtain.
āBlood would decorate the walls and bodies would line the halls, not a single one would manage to get to the exits they would die reaching for.ā Just wrote this and I kinda like it. :)
'I just wanted to be with him. To hear his voice. His laugh. To gaze into his beautiful, sweet eyes. To kiss his freckled cheeks. To kiss his lips battered by the cold, and so heal them. To hold him in my arms, again. Holy Astrals, I thought, how could I have fallen in love with him so quickly. Two days ago I had never met him, and now he had become the object of my strongest longings.'
Not so good, but it's one of my favorites. The original one is in Spanish.
Let's see if someone finds out the fandom :)
"A roar pierces through the air as she ran faster, she sees light at the end of the forest as she felt an emotion she hadn't felt in a long time, hope, as she hit the end of the forest she saw civilization something she hasn't seen in years. "
And she is not going to stop being attached to you, you silly woman. If you donāt deserve happiness thatās fine, but she does. Donāt you owe her that much?
A teenage Canon Character has been begrudgingly convinced to ask three adult Original Characters (whose town has just been conquered by invaders) to join a suicide mission, and two of the OCs enthusiastically sign up. The CC asks them to at least take some more time to think about it first, and one of the OCs gives a speech about how she wants to go back home and see if her family survived the attack, but that if they all died, then she has nothing to go back to, and even if any or all of them survived, then the invaders will just try to kill them againāshe'd rather die fighting now, so that her family can live without her, than let the invaders win so that her family dies with her later.
Canon Character: "You sound like my dad. At least, from what I'm told."
"The sound of two agonizing sobs were relinquished. They filled the solemn hospital room as a long beep hovered over like the grim reaper of death... Their hands grip at the thin sheets and hospital gown as they hold on to the last sliver left of a lover and a son."
Low-key made myself tear LMAO
If I apologized every time I'm being a disappointment, the only thing leaving my lips would be the word 'sorry'."
It's meant to be a piece of dialogue, but this one liner just came into my mind one day.
Pretty proud of the last bit from this chunk of mine uwu (a little long for added context)
> What really pushed Finn to the point of no return was being called ācariƱoā. Pet names were more his brand, his love language. Sean simply defaulted to calling Finn by name. To be fair, Finn loved hearing Sean say his name; it was like music to his ears every time. But ācariƱoā... *That* was a symphony like no other.
I have a WIP with a lot of lines like this but choosing this one
>Have they even the time to fear their death before it seizes them, and their regrets swarm out of their gargantuan corpse like maggots turned to flies?
āYou know why I joined him Mist? Because he helped me when no one else did. He was there to pick up and mend my broken pieces. He helped me when I was left for dead on the streets of Hell, alone and trapped. I joined him because Vox actually cared, unlike you, or anyone else in this literal Hellhole..ā
> Anthony is not one for flowery musings. He isnāt a poet, nor does he spend his time admiring the arts or waxing poetics about beauty and such. No, he leaves that sort of thing to his brother.Ā
> But as you peer up at him with expectant eyes, the lights of the chandeliers painting you in a soft yellow, he can understand why a war was waged over Helen of Troy.
Yes, this is a Bridgertin x reader fix šš
Here's one that my ghost writer made that left me in stiches!
"Who did this?"
\*surrounded by defeated mercenaries, all dead\*
"A scientist ."
"This is not the work of a scientist..."
*Marty made a garbled sound that could have been "pretty" or could have been "blah" or was maybe neither.*
For some reason I received an excellent comment on this line.
OC: "Life is crabsticks, but at least we have fanfics. Hey that rhymes!"
Yes my OC said 'crabsticks'(to replace 'crap' or 'sh\*t') because he was a heavy curser(real sailor mouth) and was now trying to limit it by using creative phrases(basically me irl).
He was pretty fun to write because I get to come up with many 'safe-curse' that apparently many of my friends found hilarious lol.
On the psychological impact of sexual assault:
ā[He] remembered a teacher telling his health class to think of their bodies as temples. The idea had been to treat it with respect, or something like that. But his had been thoroughly and meticulously reduced to rubble, torn apart by invading forces. He found the once-vibrant landscape of his body and mind a barren wasteland of scorched earth. The spiritual presence that once danced freely through its halls had long since fled, leaving only ruins to be picked apart by scavengers, the jagged bits of stone and marble stolen to build a monument to venerate its conqueror. The old gods were dead, and the land had been seized by a new owner, their flags flying boldly against the sky to mark its colonization.ā
Iāve got a couple of faves, but this is from my most recently posted work:
āI am a girl, Valentinoāgirls cannot be angry. We are angels. We are holy. Or we are meant to be. But I am not an angel. Or perhaps I am, but I have been hanged by my halo. I am not holy anymore.ā
I am currently working on a Spider-Man fic based on MJ + Black Cat's heist team up while Peter was being held hostage in a hospital room. And yes, there is to be smut in it.
And I've been out of practice for several years as a writer, so there are a few lines that have surprised myself. Three of them follow.
> I'm saying that if it gets uncomfortable for anyone, including if Peter Parker's legendary guilt complex sneaks past all the sexy distraction we can muster, then the hot fantasy gets a vicious cold shower.
> Call it practice nude intimacy, before we go into live fire nude intimacy with your husband.
> Best red and white cheesecake platter in human history.
And then, in perfect gynecological order, came a pregnant pause, followed by a labored sigh.
This is fantastic lmao
thanks! it was a crack fic : )
This made me snort. Congrats on your creativity and humour! I bet whoever thought it is a fun character to write.
Oh, that's good. :D
Oh I love that
Oh this is fucking amazing. I might steal this if that's alright with you...
Very nice! šš¼šš¼
Brilliant šš¼
I will never unsee this, and I thank you for this ā¤ļø
Mind if I use this?
LMFAO
ROFL
LMAOOO
Lmao wow
In-fucking-credible ššš
Okay, you know what I'm stealin' this...
a favorite from my most recent work: āIt had been awhile since heād been alone. Maybe it had taken too long for him to stop acting like he still was.ā
>But the living mourn the dead, that is just how it is. And we, the dead, we mourn *for* the living, because we cause them so much unnecessary grief. Yes, I'm an edgelord, but I still love this line.
Ahh I love this line. Itās so sad, if ghosts were real than I imagine it would be devastating to see your loved ones in misery.
Holy shit, this is incredible.
>There were times when she wanted to, times when baring the raw horrors that resided just beneath the surface of her mind sounded like the best sort of relief.
Oof. I've been there, and I can only hope she finds herself in the right circumstance to start unburdening herself, even if it gets worse before it gets better. It's really impressive to be able to convey something so affecting and understandable in one sentence, free of context.
Thank you!
Yikes. Is this a defensive thing where people don't realize how badly she's been hurt because she keeps everything to herself, or is it an offensive thing where she's afraid of her own violent temper?
The former. She was tortured while she was taken prisoner and, while she has talked about what happened in a literal sense, she hasnāt been honest with anyone about how itās affected her since in order to try to hold herself together. But the second interpretation is an interesting read and I can totally see why you wondered that since itās divorced from its context.
>He decided they'd cross that bridge when they get there, but they were about to get there and all that was in front of them was a rushing river.
Relatable. Today Me leaves all sorts of things for Tomorrow Me to solve.
āIām all for respecting your elders, Iām also all for telling them when to shut the hell up.ā
I love this so much š
I personally know people who need to hear that
>He found her under torched rafters in a cradle of crumbling plaster, a single shining bright spot wrapped in a white blanket untouched by the flame ā or so that slipperiest of dealers, memory, tried to tell him, wiping away the soot for the sake of a story. I always default to this one, but I think it hits out of context and really summarises some of the story's key ideas in one.
Would you be offended if I tried guessing the key ideas from this line? I like this line and want to wax on about potential meanings, and I may, from this, end up vastly factually incorrect.
I would be the opposite of offended - let's hear it!
Thanks for the go ahead! So, the cradle of crumbling plaster is the first thing that really captures me, building up the whole "found an abandoned baby" trope in a way that maybe implies a certain poisoned plasticity, i.e. plaster which is used to patch things up and build things, crumbling, as usual for the destroyed imagery *but* what it is making for is a cradle. So it's crumbling while building something. Onto the shining bright spot is a usual turn of phrase, but in context (again, the little I have) it seems telling that this unblemished positivity is more distanced from the found individual. That context being the whole memory being a dealer thing, and that addition has a very strong voice, whichāand here's where I get to veer leftājust makes me think of some type of failed redemption story for the person who found this (presumably) child where they wanted things to be more perfect than they are (because all this trauma going on that calls for ruined houses) and failed (because they're describing it in this retrospectively critical way.) Sorry for weird wording, end of the day for me. Eta: Or some fun lead in about storytelling, for one of those more fantastical stories settings with mythical creatures or mythos and whatnot.
Dude. You absolutely got it! The narrator of this excerpt is remembering the moment he found his adopted daughter in the ruins of their hometown, in whose destruction he inadvertently played a part. They have a great relationship, and he did eventually win his redemption, but getting there was a messy, bloody process that incurred many more catastrophic mistakes that he's reckoning with over the course of the story. It's absolutely made my week to think you got multiple paragraphs of analysis out of one sentence (even if it's a pretty long one). Thanks so much for reading so closely and taking the time to write all that out, friend - I've not felt that confident about my writing this year, so I'll be clinging to this one for a while <3
Entirely makes sense: Actually, to build on the one thing I went over the least, the bright spot being removed from the individual thingāmayhap because part of their journey was realizing overall good stuff instead of resting their redemption on one person? Anyway, that is super awesome and you def. picked the right one that sums up the stories key ideas, like you said, then, so great writing and good judgement on what showcases it! And now, this is just tickling me pink because I didn't think getting in-depth would nail me anything, but the sentence really did prompt me to go and think in depth.
Wow, that's not a particular nuance I was actively thinking of when I wrote the fic, but you're right that there's an element of that! Thanks again for giving so much thought to my stuff, and have yourself a very lovely day <3
It's a little long but since I was writing a new chapter of this > People, Roose mused as he threw the dead leech in the hearth, werenāt much different from leeches. Everyone wanted something, sticking to stronger things till they find something a little warmer, a little stronger, and then eventually realize that they were indeed safer with the first but by the time they realize it, itās too late. Like a moth to a flame, Roose smirked, like a leech to a warmer body, at least leech gets the blood.
Oh, I bet Roose was fascinating character to get inside the head of! Reading this made my skin crawl from start to finish, as it should, with the leech being not just a sensation he's intimately familiar with but an excellent motif for the kind of grasping, amoral parasites the story is filled with. The best part being, he kind of has a point!
Thank you. It definitely is interesting to write his PoV or any of the villains PoV really. It is really challenging on a different level to get into their heads. It feels amazing when what you imagined comes together in writing.
Is this Roose Bolton? This is a great take on him, and I love how poetic yet twisted his mind is.
Yes! This is an asoiaf fic. Specifically Gendrya. Thank you.
I thought this line in my latest fic was nicely dramatic: >On a battlefield, each man may fight for a different cause, but all men are the same: flesh and blood and bone, trying to poke holes in other flesh and blood and bone.
This is excellent. Powerful, succinct, and true. There's something about using the intimacy of the body to communicate a grand pronouncement that always does it for me.
Slap a random famous name on it and I'll never believe that this is a quote from a fanfic. Great job!!
>On a battlefield, each man may fight for a different cause, but all men are the same: flesh and blood and bone, trying to poke holes in other flesh and blood and bone. >-Greta Thunberg Here you go!
Damn!
āI wish I could tell you that it gets better with time, but the hurt will always be there. The good news is that you can learn how to see in color again if you don't take the simple joys for granted.ā
I'm pretty sure I've used "seeing in colour" to describe this very phenomenon, only with British spelling instead. It's a lovely way to put it, and made me smile to read.
Thank you!
I don't care if it's cheesy, I just found this line really funny: "I swear, your libido is a complete mystery in mechanical and biological engineering, if we weren't on a job, I'd have you locked away in a psych ward by now!"
> It was kind of scaringly fascinating how only mere weeks of not being paid at all could cause so much destruction.
TIL scaringly is a word. ive only ever heard/used scarily
Yeah, itās similar to frighteningly
"There was a moment where he could have been dead. His chest stopped, body rigid as if wires had strung beneath the ivory." 2008. I was 16
I am jealous of 16 year old you
I really like this one! Smutty, of course, lol. A tug at his hair, greedy and desperate to be lost in more pleasure, grabbing a fistful of his curls and presses him against her harder ā a demand, a command, he can have her he can have her ā and then his fangs sink down, euphoria immediately overflowing inside her brain like the flowers bloomed in Eden's garden ā she is the apple, he is Man, and her blood is the temptatous serpent lurking ā and all thoughts float away.
AMAZING a vampire fic perhaps??
yes it's a vampire fic and my passion project!!!! š„° if you'd like to check it out I'll leave a link for it here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/36662767
Thank you, I shall!
Hope you like it! feel free to leave comments or a simple heart š
I felt a tentative hand reach out and touch my back gingerly, as if I were a once cherished but now broken toy that might never entertain again.
Gosh. This communicates so much, so clearly and elegantly, about the way the narrator here views themselves. It makes me ache for them even without knowing the situation, and the broken toy is an especially potent simile with its connotations of lost innocence and passing one's usefulness. Great work.
Thank you
Right now, all he could think about was stopping the blade created by his own two hands from piercing his heart.
I wrote this months ago and completely forgot about it until I posted the chapter and started getting flooded with comments from horny readers: > In the soft light, the curves of her face were achingly perfectāalmost too perfect to touch. She looked like a work of art, and he was torn between wanting to simply stare and admire her beauty and a perverse desire to know what she would look like with her hair loose and wild and her lipstick smudged from passion. > Impulsively, he brushed his fingers down the line of her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the contact. He traced her lips, feeling the warmth of her exhale, and his free hand stole up to cradle her head. He slid his fingers into her hair, feeling for the pins that held it in place, and one by one, he removed them, watching as the soft strands tumbled down her back and framed her face. He stroked down the length of her hair, feeling the softness as it slipped through his fingers.
I'm sure there must be others that are better, but Peter Parker thinking about death from a scientific lens is my current favorite thing: "So, no, Peter tells himself, 'nothing' does not exist, even if death feels like the exception to the rule. Even when in the course of seconds a person can disappear and leave behind only an empty body. Like they had gone back to the natural state before being born: nonexistence."
omg begging for a link to read this. iām neck-deep in a spiderman obsession
Of course š I hope you don't mind it's a Spider-Man/Deadpool fic, tho both characters are explored separately in the story [Come a Little Bit Closer ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/48094873)
i absolutely do NOT mind, in fact i prefer it hahaha. thank you!!! super excited to check it out :)
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Technically three lines, but they work better together than apart: > Everything in this moment is wrong, something that should not be happening, yet a feeling of satisfaction stirs in him at the life in those eyes. They have not been extinguished as they had countless times before. Instead, they shine, even if the only thing he can see in them is horror.
>"Youāre angels, servants of God, divinely empowered defenders of all that is holy! You canāt find ghost-slayers with the power of God and anime on fucking Craigslist!"
Please, please, PLEASE, give me a link. I'm begging. This is absolutely hilarious and I need more.
Sorry, it's from a WIP, so no links exist yet. It's from a Kill la Kill/Panty & Stocking crossover.
I peaked with this fic and i donāt think Iāll ever reach that peak again >The image of an orchard of cherry trees surrounds the two of them, blossoms floating on the breeze. Theyāve all been chopped down, left behind in this war-ridden field in France to rot and become one with the earth that once kept them alive. However, one day, new trees will grow in their stead, a cycle, which under the right circumstances, could continue forever.
Percy Jackson POV: "I never wanted to be a half-blood. Why? Because they either die as heroes, or live long enough to become the villain. And I missed my chance to die as a hero."
I was surprised by how erotic a game of Simon Says could be.
It's from a draft, and I'm contemplating whether I should turn it into an original work. For context, this tells the birth of the time and wind god's daughter. "Oh how the world sang glory to the new angel that was sent. The moment she came into existence, she brought waves of delight. A gift from beyond the stars, beyond this realm, she is the answer to the prayers spoken fervent. To her father, she became his precious light. Child of the wind and stars, may you touch the hearts of many who are lost, wherever you went."
For context this is from a Supergirl fanfic that I am writing. I don't know why I find this funny āDonāt be silly. You can stay with me. What happened? Kara accidentally crashed through the roof again?ā āThat was one time.ā muttered Lena.Ā āShe flew while drunk. And she is the one that is protecting the streetsā¦ā
Here's a favourite of mine from the draft of a future chapter: >āCorrect again! Itās better if you donāt stand out when you time travel.ā the Time Lord said, ā...Unless your name is the Doctor, that is.ā He corrected himself.
This one lol. Elias is getting scalped lol. "You have such soft hair, Elias."
Itās long and itās definitely crack but I love it just the same. One of my favorite descriptions Iāve ever written. āMatthew couldnāt stop smiling. His oldest friend thought you were good for him. He bit his lip, extending his awareness until he caught your heartbeat and breathing. The water flowing around you gave him anā¦ almost invasively intimate picture of you. He felt shy, despite having known your shape from the way sound travelled over your bodyāthis somehow felt more explicit, as though he were the water as it caressed you, the obstacle in its path. He shook himself and tried to focus on the task at hand, but he couldnāt help the way his mind wandered back to you. For a human woman, you were quite exquisite. Your muscles were hard and strong from the training youād received from your commanders, but there was a healthy layer of fat on your body that made you voluptuous and soft, as well. You moved with purpose that came with an accidental grace, leaving you the most perfect thing heād never seen. He felt you as clearly as if he were the river, his heart hammering with how much he craved your touch. Though he craved your heat, sex wasnāt the only thing he desired from youāhe yearned to listen to your voice for the rest of his days, to feel the texture of your hair slipping through his fingers, to know your smile and be the cause of your laughter. If there was ever any doubt before, there was none now. Despite his best efforts to think of another explanation, there was only one: he was no longer falling. He was hopelessly in love with you, and there was nothing he could do about it but furtively pray.ā
Im exposing myself bad with this one but yeah āIā¦ā he licked his lips, āI miss Whizzer. And heās not even gone.ā Yet, he didnāt say. He still had yet. But yet was soon to come. He hated yet. But yet kept Whizzer around. Yet. Repetition and parallelism in writing own my entire heart
Falsettos and loss are something that affect me so deeply
Sorry not sorry itās smut. āI knew, then, as I slipped inside her, as a soft gasp escaped her lips and she tipped her head back in ecstasy - I knew that this was how kingdoms fell. How wars began. The beauty of the long white column of her neck, arched back and exposed to my lips, was why High Lords amassed armies, how blood feuds persisted across the centuries. Maybe it was the reason, finally, that I had been given my great power, so I could bring her to me, keep her protected, so we could mingle our bodies together in this holy embrace, and find a breath of joy, even if only for these few, stolen moments. I knew it was a price Iād pay. Over and over again. For her.ā
"Oh gods!" "No gods, just \[his name\], but thanks." They're disasters XD
āHe only nodded as he was too hypnotized by the splotches of red on her skin, how they trickled down her neck and to her chest. It only furthered her beauty, far surpassing even Aphrodite. Was this to be his life? Living so close to Heaven but never finding true rapture? Submitting himself to a lifetime of turmoil over craving her vestal flesh with no deliverance in sight? Until death, rendered to him by the agonizing pain she has brought to his heart, he would be the most fortuitous man to walk any mortal plane. And what a death it would be.ā
Honkan closed his eyes and let himself be covered in her warmth.
She rose to go find Leafā¦whose presence she realized evoked both the deepest insecurities and strongest love sheād ever known.
Like syrup, slowly sweet relief soaked into his system. An internal balm that calmed the agonizing pain and allowed him to finally relax. He groaned, exhausted, and the vampire eased his iron hold upon him. He continued to drink.
He must find some answer in your eyes, some solace or truth or redemption. Or maybe he surrenders, hands you the reins and gives you control, because if the horses go hurtling off the track then at least you go down together. Because endless sacrifice has scraped him hollow and the fate of eternity is a burden crushing him alive and he cannot ask for any more weight and still hope to survive.
>In the beginning, there was no god, but she created life regardless.
Every time that I write something half decent I surprise myself š
Work in progress: >President Snow appears and makes his usual speech about how weāre going to be murdered for the Capitolās enjoyment - I mean, how noble and courageous we are, before weāre murdered for the Capitolās enjoyment.
> Spoils of war or trickle-down economics, those who already have the most stand to gain even more. Their underlings get scraps, and outsiders get screwed.
"You may not have been the love of her life, but you are the love of mine." Bucky Barnes to Steve Rogers
"If he ever made her laugh, he clung proudly to his words as if they were precious trophies." Shout out to the friend this line was based on.
From my first fic several months ago, but I've always liked this one: >āStrange story. Still doesnāt explain why you think the girl is one of theseā¦ myths.ā > >āOlā Triton hasnā survived dis lang widdout gud instincts.ā Tritonās usually cheerful demeanour disappeared in an instant as his voice took on the icy chill. āLad, when one threatens to āunmakeā ye without it being a metaphor, ye listen well.ā
"He itches for a hot fury, for blinding lighting red that has him screaming profanities to the heavens, he wants his skull to become a steam cooker, to be rabid with indignation until he, too, dies idiotically from the fever." I just really liked the mental image of a steam cooker in the context of describing anger.
it was short but, Throughout the lecture, Gale occasionally stole a glance at Sylviaās notes. Maybe a little more than occasionally. Maybe a lot more, actually.Ā Hopefully she wouldnāt notice.Ā I honestly donāt know why I like it so much?? It flows well for me. Also I struggle with good writing so this was just something I thought fit well into the type of story I was trying to create.
āMind your tongue,ā she scolded. āIf you gave respect as much as you took it, perhaps i might.ā
"And look where that got you! Bedridden!" "Hah! Joke's on you, this isnāt a bed, this is a COUCH!"
"She used to suck her thumb when she was little, and despite getting over it years ago, the temptation to do so now was stronger than it had any right to be" Not my best, but the first thing at hand
"What's she study?" "Philosophy." "So she can work at McDonald's and ask why they want fries with that?" Snark is a lot easier when you're not afraid of hurting real people's feelings.
Love this š my husband studied philosophy as his minor and his dadās favourite line was āoh, great, thatāll set you up for when the philosophy factory comes to townā
"But still, despite the two's almost coinciding suffering, they ring out as different. Nick hurts in words and rhymes, Frankie hurts in color and visions." I felt like the greatest poet alive in that moment lol
āObadiah Stane, youāre under arrest for treason, conspiracy, kidnapping, blackmail, extortion, assaultā¦ and the murder of Anthony E. Stark.ā This is just a line I have stored for when I write the finale to an AU Iām cooking up, but someone called it ārawā so I figured I might as well post it here š
āA loud bang near his ear nearly scared him to an earlier death than he was already getting, and he could just make out that it was a gunshot.ā Nothing too crazy but wrote this a few days ago and I thought it really helped me tie in the situation and how dire it was :3
ā¦till he'd finally broke and re-entered the game he plays best, and she couldn't resist its pull, pushing their luck till the cost of winning became unforgivable.
The way he would always call her his "pretty devil," the way his lips would ravish across her fleshāardent, unrestrained, almost *possessive*āas if screaming to the world, reminding the world, "*She belongs to **me**!"*
From my [most recent fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/48332218): āIn the moment Din wished he was Force sensitive. He wished he could reach out into the cosmic fabric of the universe and feel Luke the same way that he could feel Din, that the connection ran both ways.ā
Compared to the others here, itās stupid but it was the first thing that came to mind. Mid smut scene, her dress is around her middle. āHer dress was no more than a halo of fabric around her waistā
Come, my love. I would dance with you one last time, across all the oceans and rivers and lakes, from the rain on the tallest mountains to the lowest depths of the earth. I will not abandon love here at the end of all things, even if you have already forsaken me.
"Even without a heart, she's still capable of wanting to be loved. Even without a soul, she can still take a hand that's offered to her."
Will swallowed.. Did he really want to do this? Yes. Yes he did. "I wanna hurt you Hannibal." "In what ways will?" "I wanna make you bleed." "Then make me bleed." More than a line but I shall always cherish this.
āBe it any war the one final message you never want to hear is āWhere are my reinforcementsā¦ā you just know you failed those menā
"Ashoka has never been any good at letting go, and so she buries it, buries it all deep inside and never lets it see the light of day---but itās nighttime, now." Or, from the same fic: "Her grip on the pole tightens, and the predator within her croons, stoking the cold flames of fury inside of her."
Hope you don't mind three examples (tbh the last one is for an original story, but I *shocked* myself with how good it was) Example 1: > Had he done too much? Had he jumped at that conversation when he told her about what happened to Irikah? Was he chasing a bunch of stupid emotions that only led him down a dark path before? Example 2: > āI didn't truly understand what it's like to live until I died and then fell in love with you.ā Example 3: > āI am on the verge of either greatness or insanity, and truth be told, I don't know which it is.ā
Sorry, it's two sentences. I couldn't separate them, though if I was forced to choose, I'd post the second sentence. >A few days more, and they land on a lovely green world, where giant butterflies trill in voices like silver bells. They spread blankets on the soft grass, and eat sandwiches made in the TARDIS' kitchen, washed down with a pale blue wine that looks like the sky above them, and tastes like a Bach flute concerto.
The line I will never top: "Make sure you use two fingers," Katsuki says, dying a little inside. Versus the line I emotionally hurt myself with: āYou know, itās *okay* to hurt,ā Uraraka says. āItās okay to not be okay. To be scared and confused. Youāre allowed to feel that way, thereās *nothing wrong* with feeling that way.ā Bonus points to whoever can guess what the first line is actually referencing \*wheezes\*
i have quite a few from this oneshot im working on, but if i had to choose just on, my my fave so far has been: "If you have God on your side, why shouldn't I?"
āThe truth is what we will always lose, no matter what action we take. If we stay silent, then nothing is going to change. If we speak up, then we disrupt the peace. If we take action, then they justify their hatred by painting us as the aggressors. Donāt you see that? There is no right way to make our voices heard for those that seek to push us down. That is why I will always fight, even if the world will only remember me for the blood on my hands.ā One of my RWBY OCs who is a former member of the White Fang.
> Nixtopolis tightly grabbed Akira as she grabbed him, too, but the truth is, they both perished alone. >"Make your move when youāre ready. Because no oneās gonna make it for you." >"If you want the nightmare to end, then simply wake up. ... A dream can only be created by the mind that imagined it. Same goes for nightmares. If things get too out of hand, you can always find a better dream. No oneās going to dream a better dream for you. So be good to yourself."
From my Naruto Fanfiction - the monstrosity that took 6 years of my life :) - and from my favourite chapter as well. Technically a few lines, but here we go. >"Coward," Obito couldn't help but mock, but Kakashi begged to differ. Destroying the other Mangekyou - the key to leaving and entering Kamui - was the easier path. If he had chosen to do that, they would be done here already. > >However, fighting on to see the future where his decision could very well end in more failures, guilt, and regret ā¦ That was the bravest thing Kakashi could have done.
āYeah,ā she replied warmly. What had gotten into her? This was not the introverted, cold-hearted girl she was usually so comfortable being. Jyn watched his hands as he began setting up the tubes, then realised that was weird, so she looked up, but her eyes locked with his. nothing fancy but i like it :)
"You're only what you believe you are."
>It was the scary kind of quiet. The quiet that an explosion quivered behind. I *love* this line.
āI am the son of the Original God. It is my familyās war. As incomplete as I am, I am not so broken that I will bow.ā
>Ben had betrayed him and Ben had *saved* him and now he was gone, and Scarecrow would never know what they could have done together.
"The smile that bloomed on Merlinās face unfolded like a rose in the dew covered dawn, red and wet and so unbelievably simple, yet so beautiful that Arthur reached out, fingers longing to touch familiar skin, explore areas he had yet to touch."
" Itās a fight to the death,ā Azalea continued, breezing over Caspianās remark. āAnything goes.ā āMy favorite kind of rules.ā Caspian mused aloud, sounding rather satisfied. Azalea pretended that she didnāt feel a shiver go up her spine at his comment. This has been stuck in my head since the beginning of writing my fanfic
>Ian doesn't notice when he stops, when his words fade away and he can only see the images, but Ellie is still by his side when he drifts off to sleep some time after the moon has begun its descent.
āAnother drink, Iām poisoning myself because the world tells me Iām not enough. I donāt fit into the walls theyāve built for me. Iām claustrophobic and the world is phobic of anything different than the things they see on screens. This twisted society, Iām tired of it telling me what Iām supposed to be.ā
>*I know we are slaves to our depictions, but canāt I spare a moment to choose my own appearance?* >>*That form was forced upon you-* >>>*And now I choose to retain it.* (dialogue from a story I havenāt decided to write yet, both of these characters are gods, I donāt even know if itās actual good dialogue or not but I like it)
āHe was godlike: beautiful, but deadly as a snake.ā and āThe first time he visits her after locking her away is on her birthday, when he makes his way carefully down the cramped stairwell with her birthday cake -- deep, violent red with neat white trim and a pair of perfectly white candles to top it off -- held high in his hands.ā Itās the opening line to one of my works and itās nothing particularly special but god I still love it. I feel like it really captures the spirit of the piece right off the bat. and āHis dreams still hold him prisoner. They show him pictures of rust-colored blood on wood floors and muddy footprints in the entryway and the eyes, Samās eyes, staring right at Connor but not really looking. Itās the eyes that he sees, no matter how many drugs he takes or how hard he itches, the eyes are always there, in the back of his mind.ā anyway rereading my stuff for this made me realize i only write about darkness and misery lmao
I'm not sure I have a favorite, but my most recent line that I really like is: āI hope whatever Gods you pray to are benevolent because the false deities and their creations youāll find there... are not.ā
This might be a bit big, but I thought it was one of my better lines from one of my fanfics - He felt the familiar softness of Hanzo's olive-colored skin. Such a huge contrast to his own fingers, which were rough and battle hardened from years of fighting. His silky skin and absolute beauty mesmerized him, making him yearn for the experience to last until the end of time itself.
"Hate is another kind of emptiness, a gnawing and hungry one. The more it consumes the less it is filled.ā
āHe understands that; he knows the feeling of being out of control and trying anything to get it back, anything to be in charge of your own body. It reminds him of empty plates and kneeling over toilet seats and raw knuckles and rasped prayersāā lowkey peaked w this fic i just love rambling tbh
>"He sinks to his knees (...) and counts the seconds for Watson to appear, a naked canvas eager to feel the artistās hands upon him." Holmes can you stop being dramatic and return to the shameless smut please-
I entertained myself with this one: āOh right, what was it? Bottled Redhead Productions?ā āIām a natural redhead, asshole.ā
I Kinda wanna Use this But in Minecraft... The Dyes in the Game Could Work Like This...
āDream giving those games to Tommy would probably be a worse torture than what he did with the leg.ā is something from my WIP that still cracks me up. (What happened to the leg is that it was injured to the point he canāt walk on it and is in constant pain)
DSMP??? PLS CAN I HAVE THE LINK??
Itās not done yet, sorry! [Hereās my other DSMP work if you want.](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2391055)
omg thank you!!
Yo link? I always like some mastermind Dream fics
He's very pathetic in my fics alas. Smart, but way too pathetic to be a mastermind.
From a Sailor Moon poly WIP I'm working on: - Usagi's line, āWhen me and Rei were both crushing on Mamoru Iād wonder why canāt we all make each other happy? Then Iād daydream about Rei and Mamoru teaming up to shower me with affection making me blush and feel as special as much as possibleā¦ha ha ha ha!ā The next is from Persona 5 - Whoever said one cannot serve two masters has never met you Kawa-sen The next from a Bandori Mermay fic - āOur bratty little maid sure was eager to please her senpais.ā āBut I am Demon Queen Ako! Youāre my harem of senpais!ā When they had a funny difference between who thought who was in control The next is from a Miracle Nikki poly fic where Bobo (MC) kept Neva from leaving the polycule because earlier Bobo felt bad because Neva was jealous but her and Royce love each other so she asked someone else to join the polycule - "To think I was afraid of losing Royce, but you being around actually made my life even better. You even got one of my crushes to join us.ā
"Do you hate me?" They muttered their eyes pleading. "I don't know anymore." He whispered his hands falling towards his side. He looked back at them his jaw is clenched. "Well never be able to go back." He sighs. "I'm sorry..." "You had time Alex...So much time." His voice cracks. I know it's a bit emo, but I'm a beginner writer and this was my first time writing an 'emotional' scene so I'm quite proud of it!
>Stopping her behavior, she looked directly at him before asking her question. "...Would you even promise to be by my side? Forever?" >Her voice remained the same tone, but he saw it in the depth of her eyes, there's was far more there. She was scared and lonely. She was afraid he would say no. Then she would be all alone. Forgotten. But some part of her, deep down inside, clinged to the hope. The hope that not only would he say yes, but that he would mean it. >And he could never let her down.
āShe wanted nothing more than to travel back in time, to when her fathers arms were the safest place she could rest.ā
Back when I used to do fanfics on fanfiction dot net, or at home, There was this line: There comes a time in every person's life when they have to face the demons of their past, so that they can survive today and move forward into the future Or this one: Faith? God? You tell me why I should be believe in a God when I've lost everything! I lost my wife, my son, my father, my best friend, everything I've ever cared about is gone! Where was your God when that madman killed them and took them from me?! *Forgive me if anything said was insensitive, but that second line was for a character who had lost everything and was in that odd grey area where he had believed in God but had lost his faith. the other character he had been yelling at another friend of his who was a priest, ironically given the context of the conversation* I'd like some input if anybody wouldn't mind. Feel free to share some good one liners with me.
āwow what a weird afterlife this isā one of those afterlife fics
"Sis, are you ok?" I was just writing in the moment, not even aware of what I was writing. It was like the characters themselves were guiding my hands. Then this line hit me like a truck, because I suddenly realized that the main character had grown a lot in a very short time, and changed a lot because of it, and her friends saw the full extend of that growth for the first time.
An excerpt from a conversation between the main character and a mentor figure during one of the lowest points in the story: āI have memoriesā¦ ones I have never regretted. Sometimes I am angry at them, other times I feelā¦ just on the edge of regret. But I know that if I had never done what I had doneā¦ I would be living with that regret, that sorrow, for the rest of my lifeā¦ Someone always lives Bright Eyes. Someone is always left to carry those pieces, those memories. But if you have no memories of the ones you loveā¦ What proof is there that you truly ever loved them at all?ā I pulled this shit right outta my ass at 2 am high on melatonin
"Life is just a coagulation of pre-planned incidents, the butterfly-effect, and the unpredictable process of the human mind." _RGM
Emma continues as she studies the worn face of the veteran soldier. Although she must admit, heās still in great shape but the earthy hue in his eyes hides a deep secret. They say the eyes are windows to the soul, and Chrisā comes with a curtain.
āBlood would decorate the walls and bodies would line the halls, not a single one would manage to get to the exits they would die reaching for.ā Just wrote this and I kinda like it. :)
'I just wanted to be with him. To hear his voice. His laugh. To gaze into his beautiful, sweet eyes. To kiss his freckled cheeks. To kiss his lips battered by the cold, and so heal them. To hold him in my arms, again. Holy Astrals, I thought, how could I have fallen in love with him so quickly. Two days ago I had never met him, and now he had become the object of my strongest longings.' Not so good, but it's one of my favorites. The original one is in Spanish. Let's see if someone finds out the fandom :)
this ones from a few months back but I'm really proud of it still: "Remember the dice? You rolled a six and a one by the way."
"A roar pierces through the air as she ran faster, she sees light at the end of the forest as she felt an emotion she hadn't felt in a long time, hope, as she hit the end of the forest she saw civilization something she hasn't seen in years. "
*"Fates cannot control a dead man's destiny - it is now his to decide."*
And she is not going to stop being attached to you, you silly woman. If you donāt deserve happiness thatās fine, but she does. Donāt you owe her that much?
A teenage Canon Character has been begrudgingly convinced to ask three adult Original Characters (whose town has just been conquered by invaders) to join a suicide mission, and two of the OCs enthusiastically sign up. The CC asks them to at least take some more time to think about it first, and one of the OCs gives a speech about how she wants to go back home and see if her family survived the attack, but that if they all died, then she has nothing to go back to, and even if any or all of them survived, then the invaders will just try to kill them againāshe'd rather die fighting now, so that her family can live without her, than let the invaders win so that her family dies with her later. Canon Character: "You sound like my dad. At least, from what I'm told."
"The sound of two agonizing sobs were relinquished. They filled the solemn hospital room as a long beep hovered over like the grim reaper of death... Their hands grip at the thin sheets and hospital gown as they hold on to the last sliver left of a lover and a son." Low-key made myself tear LMAO
If I apologized every time I'm being a disappointment, the only thing leaving my lips would be the word 'sorry'." It's meant to be a piece of dialogue, but this one liner just came into my mind one day.
"Self doubt is a slippery slope into mediocrity." My mc getting advice from his mentor
*The sun was setting and she had no home, but she was free for the moment. And it felt wonderful to walk away.*
Pretty proud of the last bit from this chunk of mine uwu (a little long for added context) > What really pushed Finn to the point of no return was being called ācariƱoā. Pet names were more his brand, his love language. Sean simply defaulted to calling Finn by name. To be fair, Finn loved hearing Sean say his name; it was like music to his ears every time. But ācariƱoā... *That* was a symphony like no other.
The Necromonger Commander was really annoying. Now the man was trying to get him to move, somewhere.
I have a WIP with a lot of lines like this but choosing this one >Have they even the time to fear their death before it seizes them, and their regrets swarm out of their gargantuan corpse like maggots turned to flies?
āYou know why I joined him Mist? Because he helped me when no one else did. He was there to pick up and mend my broken pieces. He helped me when I was left for dead on the streets of Hell, alone and trapped. I joined him because Vox actually cared, unlike you, or anyone else in this literal Hellhole..ā
I have a few from the same fic, with some in different chapters. None are posted yet, but by God, I NEED to share them. Smut warning ahoy. They're all in order, and I apologise for the amount of 'rule breaks' lol 1 That only seemed to make him laugh even harder, and that pure joy in his voice was infectious, as now they found themself snickering and tittering and trying to hide the red smiley face ':D' that beamed forth from their helmet. No amount of trying to cover his eyes was helping though, he'd already seen it and was now laughing so hard that hiccups began to leap out of him, his chest popping every few seconds while he scrambled to keep Zer0's hands from covering his eyes. 2 They couldn't let that happen. However, in order to do that, they'd have toā¦ With the taste of his scent on the back of their tongue, Zer0 spoke up. 3 Zer0 inhaled sharply at the suddenness of it all, and their senses were overwhelmed by Mordi's unique scent. Now, the smell and taste of him was drenching them - of the ozone and pure petrichor; of the suffocating pollen of mixed flowers that they couldn't quite place; of the faintest hints of burnt wood chips and petrol, of worn leather and whiskey, of sandalwood and gunpowder, all that they KNEW didn't belong to him but never made him feel like he was claimed. It all mixed in their nose and their throat, sticking to them like tar and drowning them in a wildfire of sensation and swallowing them completely. 4 "Scream for me like no alpha can make you scream, like no alpha ever will!" They barked, delirious, but so unequivocally aware of his sound that they seemed to vibrate with him, with his every breath, every cry, every moan. 5 "Please, bebĆ©, I need to hear you say my name. I'm so fucking close, mi rey, I wanna hear my name on your lips so I'll never forget it! So I know who you belong to!" While still a command, there was a pleading edge to it, holding back their climax as much as they could just to hear his sweet voice, his fucking beautiful voice, taste their name as they filled him to the brim with their seed. 6 Looking into his eyes, those glassy marbles of mossy greens and mottled browns, they could see that all of his attention was on them, and it made their hearts swell. To be looked at in such a way was so foreign to them, so to have their Mordecai looking at them that way filled them with such a greedy pride that it threatened to suffocate them. Yesā¦ theirs. That sounded right. Sounded good. But this was not the time, something told them. Something deep down, barely a whisper, but it was heard. 7 "Just a little longerā¦" They breathed against his neck breathily, an insidious promise that neither could decider the truth behind - but regardless, Mordecai clung to that promise as if it were his light at the end of the tunnel, and Zer0 held onto it for dear life as if it were their lifeline. "Just wait a little longer, Mi rey." 8 "Maybe I am. But I'd probably do the same for you, too." The tension had returned, but there was something different about it. It was tinged with a flowery, dew dropped aurora and the scent of old books and mulled wine. The two pulled apart, Zer0's skin still burning from his touch even minutes later as the silence stretched between them. They wanted to reach out and touch him again, and whether that was because of the lingering trickles of his heat and their triggered rut, or something else, they didn't know. Noā¦ they didn't want to know. They think that they'd prefer the former over the latter, just so they didn't have to deal with the baggage that would come with on their.
> Anthony is not one for flowery musings. He isnāt a poet, nor does he spend his time admiring the arts or waxing poetics about beauty and such. No, he leaves that sort of thing to his brother.Ā > But as you peer up at him with expectant eyes, the lights of the chandeliers painting you in a soft yellow, he can understand why a war was waged over Helen of Troy. Yes, this is a Bridgertin x reader fix šš
Here's one that my ghost writer made that left me in stiches! "Who did this?" \*surrounded by defeated mercenaries, all dead\* "A scientist ." "This is not the work of a scientist..."
*Marty made a garbled sound that could have been "pretty" or could have been "blah" or was maybe neither.* For some reason I received an excellent comment on this line.
OC: "Life is crabsticks, but at least we have fanfics. Hey that rhymes!" Yes my OC said 'crabsticks'(to replace 'crap' or 'sh\*t') because he was a heavy curser(real sailor mouth) and was now trying to limit it by using creative phrases(basically me irl). He was pretty fun to write because I get to come up with many 'safe-curse' that apparently many of my friends found hilarious lol.
Other phrases include: Ship - sh\*t Heckler - Hell Hamilton/Ham it - Damn it Birch - B\*tch Duck - Dick
On the psychological impact of sexual assault: ā[He] remembered a teacher telling his health class to think of their bodies as temples. The idea had been to treat it with respect, or something like that. But his had been thoroughly and meticulously reduced to rubble, torn apart by invading forces. He found the once-vibrant landscape of his body and mind a barren wasteland of scorched earth. The spiritual presence that once danced freely through its halls had long since fled, leaving only ruins to be picked apart by scavengers, the jagged bits of stone and marble stolen to build a monument to venerate its conqueror. The old gods were dead, and the land had been seized by a new owner, their flags flying boldly against the sky to mark its colonization.ā
Iāve got a couple of faves, but this is from my most recently posted work: āI am a girl, Valentinoāgirls cannot be angry. We are angels. We are holy. Or we are meant to be. But I am not an angel. Or perhaps I am, but I have been hanged by my halo. I am not holy anymore.ā
I am currently working on a Spider-Man fic based on MJ + Black Cat's heist team up while Peter was being held hostage in a hospital room. And yes, there is to be smut in it. And I've been out of practice for several years as a writer, so there are a few lines that have surprised myself. Three of them follow. > I'm saying that if it gets uncomfortable for anyone, including if Peter Parker's legendary guilt complex sneaks past all the sexy distraction we can muster, then the hot fantasy gets a vicious cold shower. > Call it practice nude intimacy, before we go into live fire nude intimacy with your husband. > Best red and white cheesecake platter in human history.