Kinverjiwrites Stories

It wasn't a warm day... it wasn't cold either. Annabeth Chase was sat on the end of the docks, just looking-into the water, tears making ripples in the clear lake. She still couldn't believe it, why? She didn't know. She snapped out of her trance when a mop of raven hair that belonged to her boyfriend sat down next to her, Seaweed Brain. "Hey wise girl, why the long face?" he said sarcastically, but concern laced his voice and he eyes. The blonde couldn't even remember why the tears flowed from her stormy eyes "I-I don't know" she tore her gaze away from the small waves her tears were making to look up at him.

Tony Stark, Millionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist, and Georgina Harris' boss. Georgina 'Gina' Reilly, Smart, Sassy, Mechanical Assistant to the one and only Tony Stark. Her life was going great until her arm is blown off and she's used to make her boss comply with the demands of terrorists. Now, it's just a case of getting used to her new prosthetic and stopping her boss from getting himself killed in the death trap of a suit he's apparently named 'Ironman'. First part in the Impairment series All rights belong to Disney. I only own Georgina Reilly and the dialogue I have come up with.

Maya Hunter, the adoptive daughter of Shawn Hunter and blood daughter of Katy Hart. Maya Hunter, the best friend of Riley Matthews, Farkle Mingus and Lucas Friar. Maya had, what she considered, a perfect life. Her best friends and the best parents, school was okay too. She liked New York, It was home. Until it wasn't. Shawn gets a promotion, her Mum gets offered a good job, and then their off to Beacon Hills, California. To where shits about to get real. So with Scott and Stiles in tow, Sophomore years gonna be a blast. And she might just fall in love along the way. Maya Hunter belongs to Disney, Teen Wolf belongs to Jeff Davis. I only own my own dialogue

It was almost ten at night, most campers were asleep, or at least in bed. The son of Hades was an exception, he was suited up in a black jacket, dark grey skinny jeans and a black T-shirt with a white circle in the middle. Nico Di'Angelo stalked through the grave yard at the edge of camp, know exactly where to go. Twelve rows back, four from the left. He repeated it like a mantra. That and the date December nineteenth, Bianca's death date. It was the anniversary of his beautiful sisters' death. His knees were already wobbling when he was ten rows back, but when he stood at the foot of the giant angle Chiron had chosen as a burial marker, they finally gave out. He fell to his skinny knees, a perfect tear ran down his cold, pale cheek. "Bianca?" he whispered, like he was trying to wake her. Another tear rolled down his cheek, then another. It wasn't long before he was full on sobbing into his leather jacket.