Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by Sissel »

I seem to try to make fanfic, but I always give up.
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Made by me, anyone can use it, if they wish
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Huddini

Wishing that you'll get better soon, Parrie!
I SUPPORT PARRIE AS A SQUADMATE IN ME3
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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by Gav »

Manila wrote:I have a lot of fanfics written, but I doubt anyone here will recognize the fandoms they're for. :?

With that said, I don't have much time now, but I'll start reading these ones later. ^_^
What fandoms are they for-*shot*
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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by Remilia Scarlet »

I revive this with my fanfiction.net account, which no longer has anything M rated on it http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1722803/Me1222 Don't read the crossover unless you want to see a trollish abrupt ending brought about by my eventual hatred of the stories involved.
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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by DLA »

Deleted.
Last edited by DLA on Mon Jun 25, 2018 7:40 am, edited 1 time in total.
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The Final but not so ending chapter.
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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by FenrirDarkWolf »

Spoiler : Dark Light Rising :
"On the horizon, the sun rose again, on the horizon, we all meet our end..." a young teen sang. She, and fourteen other people were huddled in a closed-off alleyway, an area that they deemed their own. The girl, Larxene, was sitting in a small corner, singing the tune he mother taught her before she and the rest of the group were taken from their hometowns. When she finished, she felt a hand on her back, "Namine, get the [Censored. Please be polite...], off me!" she yelled, albeit quietly. The younger girl complied, and sat back down next to her. Suddenly, a thump was heard, and everyone looked up to see a dark-haired girl, Xion, lying on the ground, dead.

"Number fourteen..." said a gray-haired man, Xemnas, the pack's leader. A blond looked horrified, and he had a right to be, Xion was his twin sister, Larxene knew this. The blond, Larxene noticed, was comforted by a tall red-head, whom she was pretty sure his name was Axel. The boy cried on the other's shoulder, while Axel just patted his head. "She had a good run," he said, "And besides, she's better off dead than in this hellhole." The blond silently agreed, and fell asleep in the man's arms. "Master..." a blue-haired teen asked, "What will we do with the body? The higher-ups will be highly unsatisfied when they find out their 'test monkey' is dead..." Xemnas looked at the teen, Saix, and slowly replied, "We bury her, and, one of us will have to sacrifice ourself..." The group looked up at the statement, as if to say, "Are you insane?!" Which a blue-haired teen asked, Zexion, and his partner, Demyx, said. "That's absolutely absurd! There's no way in hell that any of us will agree to that!" Zexion yelled. "It's not like we have a choice!" Xemnas snarled back. "But, but, it's stupid!" Demyx replied meekly. Larxene watched the three bicker back and forth, remembering the day time television that she used to watch before she was stolen.

Then, the alleyway started to light up, a deep, rich violet color. The dark light. "Oh no..." Xemnas said, "The light... It's back..." The group suddenly took cover, each pair under a table or in a box, or just hidden away from the light. "Xion!" Larxene suddenly yelled, realizing that her body was still in the middle of the alleyway. It was too late, the light had risen, the area now a rich blue. Then, it happened.

It was gruesome, Xion body started to bubble and boil, then melt, layer my layer. Larxene, despite her tough outer shell, couldn't handle this, but forced herself to watch, to cure her ever-growing curiosity, and noticed the others did the same. The skin peeled off, then melted, then he muscles started to evaporate into nothing, not even steam. The internal organs suddenly from, then burst into flames, melting them into what would surely be the group's water supply for a few months. All that was left after the terror was a skeleton, and horrifying, mangled, skeleton.

Then, as quick as it rose, the light set back onto the horizon, disappearing from view, and made the alleyway safe to live in one again. The really was no rhyme nor reason the scientist did these things to them, it was just to see what would happen. [Censored. Please be polite...]. Larxene though, this that the entire ordeal was a load of bull. They were war prisoners, heavily experimented on war criminals. They knew that they would be experimented on if they were caught, but, none of them knew that they would be thrown into an alleyway and experimented on with a ray sun. Larxene just looked over to the horizon, and sang, "On the horizon, the sun rose again, on the horizon, we all meet our end..."
Last edited by Tap on Fri Jul 25, 2014 4:04 am, edited 1 time in total.
Reason: [Censored. Please be polite...]
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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by paradoxinparticles »

Spoiler : Foolish :
This is on my FF.net account but hey, why not post it here?


This is set about a year after Ace Attorney Investigations. Phoenix has already lost his badge and adopted Trucy; Franziska has done several cases in conjuction with Interpol and is ready to finally return to Germany. I'm assuming that her final case was rather harrowing.
--

Her bags were packed and already checked, her iFly airlines plane ticket tucked safely away in her pocket. She observed the hustle and bustle of the airport with a cold, clinical detachment, letting her mind wander thousands of miles away as she stared at the ordinary people around her. Four seats away, a harried-looking mother was trying desperately to control three shrieking children while her husband sat uselessly beside her, chatting on his cell phone while covering his other ear to block out the noise his progeny produced. A red ball dropped from the hand of the smallest child and rolled over to where she sat. Without thinking, she picked it up.

"Hey, Missus." She looked up, startled, to see the tiny girl gazing at her anxiously. "Could I have my ball back?"

She looked from the ball to the child to the haggard woman and back again. "Only," she said, tossing the ball high in the air and catching it. "If you and your brothers sit down and be good little children." She girl's eyes widened and she ran to her screaming siblings, whispering urgently to them. Moments later, all three were perched politely in their seats. She stood up and paced in front of them, appraising their appearance. "Sit up straight," she ordered, her voice cracking like a whip.

Immediately, their backs straightened and their heads shot up. She smiled in approval. "Perfect." She tossed the ball back to the minuscule girl, who grinned and clutched the red rubber greedily to her chest.

She reached into her wallet and pulled out three ten dollar bills. The children's eyes shone like jewels as she waved the money before them. "Now," she coaxed, a sly look in her eyes. "If you promise to sit just like that, calmly and silently, as young children should sit, until your flight, I will give you each one of these."

"We promise, we promise!" they chorused excitedly.

"Excellent." She passed a bill to each of them, smiling at the looks of wonder on their juvenile faces.

"Thank you." She looked at the mother, who wore an expression of intense relief. "That was very kind."

"It was nothing," she responded, suddenly gruff. An almost-imperceptible tint of red appeared on her cheeks. "I enjoy children."

"Where are you headed?" the woman asked, pushing her mousy brown hair off her forehead, which shone slightly with sweat.

"I am returning to my home." Her voice was stiff.

"Oh? Where's that?" Both women glanced at the husband, who still sat nattering into his mobile.

"A place far superior to this," she replied vaguely, looking away from the man and staring into space. They stood in silence for a moment, then she reached into her wallet and removed all of her left-over cash. She shoved it into the mother's hands. "I have no more use for this currency. I do not intend to return. Perhaps you can put it to some good use." She turned on her heel and stalked away, leaving the woman sputtering in shock. She was right to be stunned — she had just been given over six hundred dollars in cash.

She found herself at a small coffee shop and settled into one of the small, circular tables. A waiter scurried over to her and she ordered a café au lait with a double shot of espresso. When it arrived in an elegant china cup with an elaborate design of green vines, along with a matching saucer, she took a delicate sip and let a sigh of pleasure escape her lips. If there was anything she would miss about this country, it was their wide variety of coffee available at even the smallest of restaurants.

She was so engrossed in the warm drink that she didn't notice when someone slipped into the seat across from hers until they spoke.

"Franziska von Karma."

She nearly dropped her mug in surprise. "You," she hissed, clinging to the cup as though it were a lifeline and gritting her teeth. "What are you doing here?"

The man didn't answer her question. "Where do you think you're going, Franziska?" he asked, a smirk playing across his lips.

She downed the rest of her coffee in one scalding gulp, slammed the last of her small change (an amount which added up to three times the cost of her beverage) down on the table, and stood to leave. Much to her chagrin, he followed her.

"I am returning to Germany." She darted through the throng of people, hoping to lose him in the crowd, but to no avail: he matched her every step.

"Why bother?" he laughed, deftly sidestepping a young couple who seemed to be in the midst of a relationship-ending argument. "You'll be back in a month or so for another case."

"No, I will not." She could see her departure gate just ahead of her and quickened her pace. "I am not going to return." She dodged a familiar-looking security guard who was yelling, for no visible reason, about how she had once been a young woman in love with a bright future.

"Oh really?" The man reached out and grabbed her wrist, tugging her towards him just in time for her to avoid a luggage trolley that had rolled out of the control of its owner. She crashed into him, nearly sending them both toppling to the shiny tiles, but he held her up. "And why is that?"

She struggled out of his grasp and slapped his steadying hands away, ignoring the amused expression on his face. "Because," she snapped, smoothing her blouse. She was well aware that her composure was slipping, and the knowledge only served to annoy her further. "I grow tired of the foolish foolery of the foolish fools of this foolish country." She made as though to storm away, but his hand lashed out and latched again to her wrist, holding her with a vice-like grip.

"You said that to me once before," he muttered. His voice was quiet, but she heard it as clearly over the din of the terminal as though he'd shouted. "Back when we first met — do you remember? Gunpowder burns?" She did remember — every detail of that fateful case, her first defeat, was branded in her memory — but the rough edge to his voice made her start to struggle again, anxious to break his grasp. "And yet, you keep coming back, again and again." She gave up on trying to wriggle out of his hold and instead reached for her belt and the weapon she had there. "And I know exactly why."

She managed to grab the handle and she swung it high. The whip cracked over him, harder than she had intended, forcing him to wince and release her. "And why is that, Mr. Phoenix Wright?" she half-shouted, brandishing the whip above her head, not entirely able to prevent her limbs from shaking.

"Revenge," he said simply, rubbing the place where she'd hit him. When she gave no reaction, he smirked. "You never got your revenge on Edgeworth." She snapped the whip again, purposely missing him by inches. "You never beat me, never managed to prove that you're better than him."

She felt the heat rising to her cheeks. "I no longer need to defeat you, Mr. Phoenix Wright!" she tittered triumphantly, wagging a condescending finger in his face. "You are no longer an attorney. Forging evidence . . . how far the mighty have fallen."

Her words did not wipe the smirk off his face, as she'd intended — instead, his look of smug self-confidence grew even more pronounced. "Like your father?"

Her breath hitched in her throat and she felt foolishly close to tears. "I will never return to this country. Never." She swung around and headed again towards the gate. This time it was his voice, rather than his hand, that stopped her.

"I'll get my badge back, Franziska," he called, making her pause. "And when I do, you'll come back. You won't be able to help yourself. Because you aren't perfect if you can't beat me." She didn't respond, didn't turn; she didn't even whip him. She just walked on, entered her gate, and boarded her plane.

But, twenty minutes later, as she reclined in her comfortable first-class iFly airlines seat, Phoenix' Wright's face came swimming into her mind. She thought of his self-satisfied smirk; his dark, intelligent eyes; his casual stance; that ridiculous blue beanie that flattened his spiky hair to less lethal proportions; and she ground her teeth together, gripping the armrests of her chair. She though of him and she knew he was right: she would return, someday.

Phoenix Wright had not seen the last of Franziska von Karma.
call me Parrie

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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by Remilia Scarlet »

paradoxinparticles wrote:
Spoiler : Foolish :
This is on my FF.net account but hey, why not post it here?


This is set about a year after Ace Attorney Investigations. Phoenix has already lost his badge and adopted Trucy; Franziska has done several cases in conjuction with Interpol and is ready to finally return to Germany. I'm assuming that her final case was rather harrowing.
--

Her bags were packed and already checked, her iFly airlines plane ticket tucked safely away in her pocket. She observed the hustle and bustle of the airport with a cold, clinical detachment, letting her mind wander thousands of miles away as she stared at the ordinary people around her. Four seats away, a harried-looking mother was trying desperately to control three shrieking children while her husband sat uselessly beside her, chatting on his cell phone while covering his other ear to block out the noise his progeny produced. A red ball dropped from the hand of the smallest child and rolled over to where she sat. Without thinking, she picked it up.

"Hey, Missus." She looked up, startled, to see the tiny girl gazing at her anxiously. "Could I have my ball back?"

She looked from the ball to the child to the haggard woman and back again. "Only," she said, tossing the ball high in the air and catching it. "If you and your brothers sit down and be good little children." She girl's eyes widened and she ran to her screaming siblings, whispering urgently to them. Moments later, all three were perched politely in their seats. She stood up and paced in front of them, appraising their appearance. "Sit up straight," she ordered, her voice cracking like a whip.

Immediately, their backs straightened and their heads shot up. She smiled in approval. "Perfect." She tossed the ball back to the minuscule girl, who grinned and clutched the red rubber greedily to her chest.

She reached into her wallet and pulled out three ten dollar bills. The children's eyes shone like jewels as she waved the money before them. "Now," she coaxed, a sly look in her eyes. "If you promise to sit just like that, calmly and silently, as young children should sit, until your flight, I will give you each one of these."

"We promise, we promise!" they chorused excitedly.

"Excellent." She passed a bill to each of them, smiling at the looks of wonder on their juvenile faces.

"Thank you." She looked at the mother, who wore an expression of intense relief. "That was very kind."

"It was nothing," she responded, suddenly gruff. An almost-imperceptible tint of red appeared on her cheeks. "I enjoy children."

"Where are you headed?" the woman asked, pushing her mousy brown hair off her forehead, which shone slightly with sweat.

"I am returning to my home." Her voice was stiff.

"Oh? Where's that?" Both women glanced at the husband, who still sat nattering into his mobile.

"A place far superior to this," she replied vaguely, looking away from the man and staring into space. They stood in silence for a moment, then she reached into her wallet and removed all of her left-over cash. She shoved it into the mother's hands. "I have no more use for this currency. I do not intend to return. Perhaps you can put it to some good use." She turned on her heel and stalked away, leaving the woman sputtering in shock. She was right to be stunned — she had just been given over six hundred dollars in cash.

She found herself at a small coffee shop and settled into one of the small, circular tables. A waiter scurried over to her and she ordered a café au lait with a double shot of espresso. When it arrived in an elegant china cup with an elaborate design of green vines, along with a matching saucer, she took a delicate sip and let a sigh of pleasure escape her lips. If there was anything she would miss about this country, it was their wide variety of coffee available at even the smallest of restaurants.

She was so engrossed in the warm drink that she didn't notice when someone slipped into the seat across from hers until they spoke.

"Franziska von Karma."

She nearly dropped her mug in surprise. "You," she hissed, clinging to the cup as though it were a lifeline and gritting her teeth. "What are you doing here?"

The man didn't answer her question. "Where do you think you're going, Franziska?" he asked, a smirk playing across his lips.

She downed the rest of her coffee in one scalding gulp, slammed the last of her small change (an amount which added up to three times the cost of her beverage) down on the table, and stood to leave. Much to her chagrin, he followed her.

"I am returning to Germany." She darted through the throng of people, hoping to lose him in the crowd, but to no avail: he matched her every step.

"Why bother?" he laughed, deftly sidestepping a young couple who seemed to be in the midst of a relationship-ending argument. "You'll be back in a month or so for another case."

"No, I will not." She could see her departure gate just ahead of her and quickened her pace. "I am not going to return." She dodged a familiar-looking security guard who was yelling, for no visible reason, about how she had once been a young woman in love with a bright future.

"Oh really?" The man reached out and grabbed her wrist, tugging her towards him just in time for her to avoid a luggage trolley that had rolled out of the control of its owner. She crashed into him, nearly sending them both toppling to the shiny tiles, but he held her up. "And why is that?"

She struggled out of his grasp and slapped his steadying hands away, ignoring the amused expression on his face. "Because," she snapped, smoothing her blouse. She was well aware that her composure was slipping, and the knowledge only served to annoy her further. "I grow tired of the foolish foolery of the foolish fools of this foolish country." She made as though to storm away, but his hand lashed out and latched again to her wrist, holding her with a vice-like grip.

"You said that to me once before," he muttered. His voice was quiet, but she heard it as clearly over the din of the terminal as though he'd shouted. "Back when we first met — do you remember? Gunpowder burns?" She did remember — every detail of that fateful case, her first defeat, was branded in her memory — but the rough edge to his voice made her start to struggle again, anxious to break his grasp. "And yet, you keep coming back, again and again." She gave up on trying to wriggle out of his hold and instead reached for her belt and the weapon she had there. "And I know exactly why."

She managed to grab the handle and she swung it high. The whip cracked over him, harder than she had intended, forcing him to wince and release her. "And why is that, Mr. Phoenix Wright?" she half-shouted, brandishing the whip above her head, not entirely able to prevent her limbs from shaking.

"Revenge," he said simply, rubbing the place where she'd hit him. When she gave no reaction, he smirked. "You never got your revenge on Edgeworth." She snapped the whip again, purposely missing him by inches. "You never beat me, never managed to prove that you're better than him."

She felt the heat rising to her cheeks. "I no longer need to defeat you, Mr. Phoenix Wright!" she tittered triumphantly, wagging a condescending finger in his face. "You are no longer an attorney. Forging evidence . . . how far the mighty have fallen."

Her words did not wipe the smirk off his face, as she'd intended — instead, his look of smug self-confidence grew even more pronounced. "Like your father?"

Her breath hitched in her throat and she felt foolishly close to tears. "I will never return to this country. Never." She swung around and headed again towards the gate. This time it was his voice, rather than his hand, that stopped her.

"I'll get my badge back, Franziska," he called, making her pause. "And when I do, you'll come back. You won't be able to help yourself. Because you aren't perfect if you can't beat me." She didn't respond, didn't turn; she didn't even whip him. She just walked on, entered her gate, and boarded her plane.

But, twenty minutes later, as she reclined in her comfortable first-class iFly airlines seat, Phoenix' Wright's face came swimming into her mind. She thought of his self-satisfied smirk; his dark, intelligent eyes; his casual stance; that ridiculous blue beanie that flattened his spiky hair to less lethal proportions; and she ground her teeth together, gripping the armrests of her chair. She though of him and she knew he was right: she would return, someday.

Phoenix Wright had not seen the last of Franziska von Karma.
Spoiler : :
Very interesting read. And very sadistic of Phoenix, that'll be playing on her mind for years now :P In my mind, this will be as canon as anything related to AA4 can get.
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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by Wolf Speaker »

What Remilia said. That Phoenix. <3

Aaaaand now for a fandom nobody's ever heard of!
Spoiler : :
“No, no, wait, I have a better idea. What if the sea was made of fire?”

The table was old, the wood worn and scratched, and bearing numerous burn marks. Diagrams and blueprints of objects and buildings of various shapes and sizes were scattered across its surface and shoved messily to the sides to make space for the large sheet of cardboard paper Kyrie had brought from That Place. They were all huddled around it and talking in urgent, hushed tones, giving off a vaguely war council-like feel.

And once again, Morte had made a completely ludicrous proposal that made his head hurt. Of course, Agan condoned freedom of speech and was never one to let any opinions be left unheard.

“Your idiocy makes my head hurt,” he informed her.

It was a testament to how much Kyrie had taught her composure and self-restraint that when she threw the table, she threw the other one in the back of the room and not the one they were currently using.

“You flipped my table,” Taupy said.

“Sorry,” Morte said. “Won’t happen again.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said, and sat back down and let the matter drop. Indeed, they were all expert practitioners of furniture-flipping, and were far too used to beating people to death with table legs to be bothered by it.

“Look, Morte, you can’t just turn the Sandsea into fire!” Agan said, pulling wood splinters out of his favorite hat. “How are people supposed to cross? Besides, nobody likes fire.”

“I like fire,” Kyrie said.

“That’s because you’ve got a giant lion inside of you,” Agan told him.

“How about non-burning fire, then?” suggested Rhi’a. “Then people could cross it safely, right?”

“Fire that doesn’t burn isn’t fire,” Morte declared.

“But there’s no other way to—”

“Guys, guys, guys,” Naja spoke up suddenly, looking perplexed. “What if someone falls out of their ship?”

They stood, stunned, except for Taupy, who sat, stunned, on his high chair, because he was too short to reach the table otherwise, as they realized that if anybody ever fell into a sea of fire, they’d go straight through the flames and drop down to the center of the Earth.

“That would be cool,” Morte said immediately.

“No, it wouldn’t,” said Agan.

“We’ll have to put a layer of earth on the bottom so people don’t fall through then,” Kyrie said thoughtfully, tapping his chin with his pen.

“Why don’t we just make the whole thing earth?”

“Because earth is boring!”

“No, it isn’t. It’s the only element you can actually walk on without dying.”

“If the sea was earth, then there wouldn’t be a sea.”

“Good point,” Kyrie said.

“No, not good point,” Agan said. “What do we even need a sea for?”

But Naja kindly reminded him that without a sea, they wouldn’t have ships, and being the loving captain of his own ship, Agan couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

“I still say we should make it fire.”

“For the last time, Morte, no.”

In the end, Morte gave in, because even she had to admit that there was simply no way of making ‘Firesea’ sound cool. ‘Flamesea’ sounded just as lame and ‘Lavasea’ would be a lie because it was made of fire, not lava, and Morte would never have forgiven herself if people began to think fire was lava and started to call bonfires ‘bonlavas’.

“We wouldn’t have had any resources to keep it burning constantly anyway,” Rhi’a told her comfortingly later, as she sat in a corner and moped. Morte had a very unique way of moping, one that usually involved a lot of fire and people not-so-accidentally dying. And as such, it was Rhi’a’s responsibility to make sure nobody exploded, because Naja was far too reasonable for this sort of thing, Taupy was deep in thought about the pros and cons of staying on the high chair, Agan was the most likely to be exploded, and Kyrie was busy scribbling on the piece of cardboard paper, actually working on something. Rhi’a especially didn’t want to disturb Kyrie, since it was generally a bad thing when the pseudo-creator of the world was distracted in their work.

“But it would have been so cool,” Morte lamented, wringing her hands, except she was holding her blade, so it in fact did not seem like she was wringing her hands and instead looked like she was trying to either demolish the wall next to her or slit Rhi’a’s throat, or possibly both.

“It would have been,” Rhi’a agreed, because as a young child she had dreamed of swooping spectacularly out of a ravine ablaze with hellish flames, laying waste to all that stood in her way with the power of her breath alone, leaving only misery and devastation in her wake as she conquered the Earth and became the supreme leader of everythingkind. Though it might have been because she grew up in a place where everything was either ice, icier ice, or ice-covered remains of her dead ancestors that her relatives never bothered moving. “But it would have been impossible as well.”

“Why are all the good things in life impossible?” Morte wailed.

“That’s just how the world is,” Rhi’a said kindly. Then she paused, as did everyone else, proving that they were listening to their conversation, which meant that they had been either eavesdropping, or multitasking. An awkward silence filled the room then, as they realized that they were kind of remaking the world, so that didn’t have to be the way the world was.

“…Um…” Kyrie was the first to break the silence, as the rest of them contemplated how things would be if they didn’t have to be the way they were. “I’ve… made up my mind. About the Sandsea, I mean.”

“Oh?” Agan tipped his hat back. They then cheerfully pretended the awkward silence had never existed. “Do tell. What’s it gonna be? A rainbow road?”

“No,” Kyrie replied, then paused. “That does sound cool, though. I should add that in somewhere. I mean, a rainbow’s made of light, so it’d be easy to make,” he said thoughtfully, leaning over the table as he jotted a few things down. “But anyway…” He drew himself up. “I was thinking of water, actually.”

Water?” Morte said.

“Water?” Naja echoed, in a very different tone.
AND THEN IT WOULD NEVER BE CONTINUED.
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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by Ferdielance »

I wrote this acrostic sonnet for an anonymous meme request for a final message from Edgeworth to Phoenix, a few decades after AJ.
Spoiler : Final Testimony :
Final Testimony

Pain? Until you, I kept my pain concealed,
Hardened by hurt, until you smelled the rot,
Opened my heart, and broke the aching clot.
Even through fevers, scalp inflamed and peeled,
Nausea, headache, cramps beyond control,
I am content with sutures in my soul;
X-rays can't show the hidden scars you healed.

Given this gift, I can't be too severe
On surgeons who don't have your cunning hand
Or way of making Death recant his stand --
Defend me, and I'll fight him yet, I swear.
But should the verdict be that we must part,
Your fingerprints are pressed into my heart.
Evidence. Truth. My friend, I have no fear.

M. E.
And from the opposite end of Edgeworth's life, here's one about a cruel trick von Karma plays on him as a boy:
Spoiler : The Edge of his Vision :
The Edge of His Vision

I can't sleep beside a window...
Dad made sure to move my bed.
Now Dad's gone, the moon is staring,
And I wish that I were dead.

Something's crouching past the curtains -
Thought I saw a glowing eye -
Something rising, silhouetted
Big and black against the sky.

Teacher says I need a backbone,
Laughs at everything I've claimed;
Sister says I'm only dreaming,
Says that I should be ashamed.

Maybe I'm hallucinating,
Just a frightened, foolish kid -
But I know it's really out there
When it whispers what I did.
"A slow sort of country!" said the Queen. "Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"
Trybien
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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by Trybien »

So, here's the link to my fanfic (9000+ words, so not putting actual text here)

http://www.fimfiction.net/story/52847/M ... -are-Magic
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TrialmanAKASoma Cruz
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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by TrialmanAKASoma Cruz »

Trybien wrote:So, here's the link to my fanfic (9000+ words, so not putting actual text here)

http://www.fimfiction.net/story/52847/M ... -are-Magic
That was an awesome fanfic. I hope you can continue it. I especially liked all those different cards you made up for it.

And on the subject, I have a pony version of Yu-Gi-Oh Abridged.
I love all generations of My Little Pony and I'm proud of it! Paste this into your sig if you are too!
Image
To please my Yuri side. (Picture by adcoon on DA)
♂ + ♂ = ♥
♀ + ♀ = ♥
♀ + ♂ = ♥
Love should be genderless.
If you agree, please add this to your signature.
Trybien
Posts: 3050
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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by Trybien »

TrialmanAKASoma Cruz wrote:
Trybien wrote:So, here's the link to my fanfic (9000+ words, so not putting actual text here)

http://www.fimfiction.net/story/52847/M ... -are-Magic
That was an awesome fanfic. I hope you can continue it. I especially liked all those different cards you made up for it.

And on the subject, I have a pony version of Yu-Gi-Oh Abridged.
Thanks so much, I'll make sure to check yours out when I get back later tonight..
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DKJustice1
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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by DKJustice1 »

@TrialmanAKASoma Cruz

I have read you piece and I like it, very sweet and cute captures the moment when love hits.
Ace Attorney Poem.

What a crime is done.
Gumshoe's has come.
His name is Dick.
It's a point and click.


To find a clue
or maybe a few.
To made your point of view.

In the trial
where every one stares
the judge does glare.


Objections fly from everywhere!
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TrialmanAKASoma Cruz
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Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by TrialmanAKASoma Cruz »

DKJustice1 wrote:@TrialmanAKASoma Cruz

I have read you piece and I like it, very sweet and cute captures the moment when love hits.
Really? I didn't know playing foal's card games meant love.
I love all generations of My Little Pony and I'm proud of it! Paste this into your sig if you are too!
Image
To please my Yuri side. (Picture by adcoon on DA)
♂ + ♂ = ♥
♀ + ♀ = ♥
♀ + ♂ = ♥
Love should be genderless.
If you agree, please add this to your signature.
User avatar
DLA
Posts: 2073
Joined: Wed Oct 12, 2011 12:14 am
Spoken languages: English, Spanish, a bit of French
Location: At the Grifter's Bone concert.

Re: Post Your Fanfiction Here (aka Pieces of Writings)

Post by DLA »

Deleted.
Last edited by DLA on Mon Jun 25, 2018 7:42 am, edited 1 time in total.
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The Final but not so ending chapter.
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