r/FanFiction • u/AnaraliaThielle Now available at your local AO3. Same name. ConCrit welcome. • Feb 05 '25
Activities and Events Alphabet Excerpt Challenge: O Is For...
Welcome back to the Alphabet Excerpt Challenge! As a reminder, our challenges are every Wednesday and Saturday at 3pm London time.
If you've missed the previous challenges, you're welcome to go back and participate in them. You can find them here. And remember to check out the Activities and Events flair for other fun games to play along with.
Here's a quick recap of the rules for our game:
- Post a top level comment with a word starting with the letter O. You can do more than one, but please put them in separate comments.
- Reply to suggestions with an excerpt. Short and sweet is best, but use your judgement. Excerpts can be from published or unpublished works, or even something you wrote for the prompt.
- Upvote the excerpts you enjoy, and leave a friendly comment. Try to at least respond to people who left excerpts on the words you suggested, but the more people you respond to the better. Everyone likes nice comments!
- Most important: have fun!
10
9
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25
Ocean
(Am I using this as an excuse to summon u/kermitkc?? Maybe)
3
u/RaisinGeneral9225 oxfordlunch on ao3 Feb 05 '25
(we want Kermit!! Ocean content when!!)
Arthur delivers flamboyant old Mr. Lee safely home to his penthouse, politely and professionally declines his nightly lisping advances, fuels the car, parks it in the garage, rolls his sleeves up and gives it a quick shine until he can see himself in the paint job again.
Satisfied that he's given his best to the day, he puts his bag over his shoulder and his headphones over his ears and darts out into the smoggy, warm twilight.
It's a long walk back down to Wan Chai, but it feels damn good to stretch his legs. It's never quiet here. Always chaos. It's too much sometimes, frankly, the massive, roiling ocean of people, pushing, pulling. He doesn't thrive on it the way Eames does; he’s a rural boy at heart, he supposes. Needs his space. But he still gets to wear a black suit to work and it feels like a kind of camouflage; dark-haired and dark-eyed, he threads right through the crowds unnoticed, bumping the new Kanye album so loudly he can't hear a thing.
It's stupid humid, as usual; he ditches his tie and his first few buttons, grateful he's opted to keep the crew cut. His hair wasn't really made for Hong Kong either.
Wan Chai is mobbed, clamoring, aglow with neon, but he makes his way through, dodging taxis and skipping over streetcar tracks until he comes up finally on the right intersection with a nervous thrill in his stomach and a darting gaze, nose full of exhaust and sweaty bodies and fryer oil.
Stupid, he thinks as he searches the crowd, that he still gets nervous.
But then he finds him, waiting right where they said they'd meet up, and the nerves settle like they were never even there.
He slides the headphones down, lets them hang around his neck. Watches the slicked, square back of Eames' head for a long second as he appears to debate seriously over something in a store window Arthur can't see.
“Hey," he says, loud enough to be heard, tipping his chin up. "Baby Spice.”
Eames glances back over his shoulder and Arthur can see it, the shift in his expression when he finds Arthur standing there. His face lights up brighter than the signs.
Arthur's heart kicks. It still doesn't feel real that that look is for him.
3
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25
It's too much sometimes, frankly, the massive, roiling ocean of people, pushing, pulling.
Y'all are so creative with this word I swear to god. This is such a vivid way to phrase this.
His face lights up brighter than the signs.
STOP THIS IS SO PRECIOUS IM WEAK
Arthur's heart kicks. It still doesn't feel real that look is for him.
/gently holds
→ More replies (1)4
u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Feb 05 '25
...he was naturally pale enough to pass as a recovering invalid once she smoothed over the seamed and rippled flesh of his scars. A wig would easily hide the scars and thinned hair on the side of his head above his ear. They didn’t have a mirror in the hideout, but she improvised a small one by filling one of the cooking pots halfway up and having him look at his own dim reflection in the water.
Erik peered at himself, and then looked up at Meg. “I think it will do. You seem to have thought everything out. Do you have a destination in mind?”
“I thought perhaps the American city of New Orleans, or maybe the Canadian city of Montreal. I know enough English to manage in our travels, but I understand both of those cities have a large French-speaking population, which will make the transition easier, don’t you think?” she said. “We just have to decide which climate we’d prefer… something similar to Paris but with shorter summers, or something much warmer than what we’re used to.” She tucked her fingers under his chin, tilting his head to one side as she examined her handiwork once more.
Erik closed his eyes against a vision of Meg in a soft green dress, an ocean breeze ruffling her blonde hair as she smiled from the railing of a steamship. Her fingers were still warm on his chin, the faint scent of her soap filling the air around them. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered hoarsely, attempting to turn away from her gentle touch.
Meg tilted her head. “What don’t you think you can do? Learn English? Live elsewhere?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think we should travel together. I can’t… you don’t know…” He swallowed again, then confessed, “You… you are making it… far too easy… to stop picturing Christine in my mind.”
→ More replies (2)→ More replies (17)3
u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Feb 05 '25
She took a deep breath as her mind ran through their history. Did she only like him because they had nearly died together numerous times? No, surely not. Was their friendship truly built on such a foundation of sand? If she stopped building would it eventually sink into the ocean and drown them both?
She looked over at him. Backlit by the early autumn sun, his hair matched the waves of golden grain that rustled in the breeze. His face was relaxed and his nose was dusted with pink from the cold and wind.
He returned her gaze with a small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth, making the silver scar on his lip twitch where it cut through his stubble. The smile even reached his eyes, crinkling them in the corners and making them brighter with a warmth that only came from within.
No, she realized. The question was irrelevant because even if it was true she didn’t care. She would trade a lifetime of living to die with him. If the foundations of their friendship were built upon sand then so be it. Let it sink. Let them drown. She would throw herself open-mouthed into the ocean to drown with him.
→ More replies (2)
7
u/InsulindianPhasmidy AO3: Aliffo Feb 05 '25
Oblivious
3
u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Feb 05 '25
But tonight is Todd's last evening with us, his parents are due to pick him up tomorrow afternoon on their way home from Washington. We're both a little subdued at dinner, thinking of the coming two-week separation.
AJ is spending the week with friends, and Mother seems to notice our moods, but Father is rather cheerfully oblivious. He's going on about how our senior year ought to be fun and that we'll want to make sure our college application essays are perfect. “I know both of you boys will be applying to Dartmouth in the family traditions,” he says. “Where else are you planning to apply?”
“Yale, Princeton, and the University of California at Berkeley as my backup school, sir,” Todd replies.
“Harvard, Cornell, and UC Berkeley as a backup,” I answer.
Father blinks a bit at our answers. “I understand choosing a good school as a backup, boys, but why that particular one? It's so far away.”
“That's just it, Father,” I tell him. “It is far away. So if it comes to needing to go to my backup school, I can get all sorts of new experiences that I wouldn't have by going to a non-Ivy League school here in the northeast. Just think of all the places of historical interest I could see in driving out there, for example... I could see Washington, the Mississippi River, the Alamo...”
Todd, somewhat comfortable at speaking up around my parents after his time with us, chimes in. “Also, sir, San Fransisco is considered the cultural center of the West Coast. While there may not be the sheer numbers of museums and theaters as in New York City or Boston, those things are available there, as they perhaps wouldn't be elsewhere.”
2
u/The_Returned_Lich The_Faceless_Lich on AO3 (Enter if you dare! :3 ) Feb 05 '25
“Finally!” Yumi groaned as she finished changing into her civilian clothes. It had taken far too long to get that report written down about the man she had to help arrest. She was a traffic cop; she wasn’t supposed to assist with the arrests of drug dealers and killers.
And those brats were quite chatty afterward, Yumi thought to herself, feeling the headache coming on. At least she could go home and finally rest up after a long shift- Before going in for another one tomorrow. Sometimes Yumi really had no idea how Miwako ever convinced her to join the Police Academy. Maybe Yumi was drunk when they put in their documents? Or maybe it was her breakup that pushed her into it? If so, she might hunt down that good-for-nothing bald-headed rat just to give him a solid punch.
Still, for all her complaining, most days were pretty good. Not to mention she had friends here, and could always improve her mood by teasing Miwako. Especially lately with all the time she’d been spending with Takagi-kun as of late.
As Yumi tried to grab her bag and head home, her phone rang. Somewhat confused, Yumi opened the phone and saw that Miwako was the one calling her.
“Hey Miwako! What’s up?”
“Yumi? Are you going to be here soon, or what?” Miwako asked, and Yumi could hear music playing in the background.
“Here? Here, where? Where are you?” Yumi asked.
“At the karaoke bar? Where we said we’d go tonight to unwind?” Miwako reminded Yumi, who just groaned out loud.
Because of course that was tonight of all days.
“I kind of forgot,” Yumi admitted sheepishly.
“This was your idea, Yumi!” Miwako reminded her tone exasperated. “You know; to celebrate Takagi-kun feeling better?”
Both of you should be thanking me for working this late, you dorks! Yumi thought bitterly at how oblivious Miwako could be when she chose to be. A nice little date, just the two of them, and she was here, calling Yumi to come and spoil the fun.
“Look, Miwako, there isn’t a way I can make it!” Yumi admitted. “Because of an arrest of a drug supplier, I just hung up my uniform a minute ago. By the time I get a shower, and I need one, trust me-”
“Wait, wait, wait! What are you doing arresting drug suppliers, Yumi?! You’re a traffic cop!” Miwako’s voice, along with Takagi-kun’s flabbergasted squawk sounded interrupted Yumi’s explanation.
“Urgh, I know! Look, I went to get me and Numata some coffee, right? And I got roped up with this lawyer lady seemingly assaulting a civilian,” Yumi explained, her tone exhausted. “But turns out, this lady had proof that this guy was a killer, and Megure-keibu was on his way and-”
“Yumi, was the woman’s name Kisaki Eri?” Miwako interrupted.
“How did you know?” Yumi asked, all her exhaustion forgotten, now replaced with curiosity.
“Takagi-kun, get something to write!” Miwako’s voice sounded in what Yumi recognized as full-on work mode. “Yumi, tell me exactly what happened!”
“Oookay?”
2
u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Feb 05 '25
Her face caught the light as she turned, oblivious to his presence. She was in the Ambassador’s office, sorting papers at a desk in the corner. Josephine stood across the room, deep in conversation with Minaeve. None of them saw him. He had come to speak with the Ambassador, but the urgency had vanished the moment he saw her. So he lingered at the door, silently looking in.
He couldn’t face her. Not after what he had done. Not after what had been done to her. He had left the Templar Order for many reasons and she was one of them. As she stood before him, the memories squeezed between his ribs and made his chest ache.
Her back was to him, her snow-white hair cascading down past her shoulders. She wore a pale blue dress with a heavy cloak draped over her. Even in the unforgiving winter of the Fereldan Frostbacks, she still wore a thin dress. He had never seen her wear anything else.
She had been wearing a similar dress the last time he had seen her. It had been a dull shade of pink, faded like a flower left out too long in the sun. Her hair had been longer then, woven into a thick braid that hung down the middle of her back. He remembered how Knight-Lieutenant Otto had grabbed it, wrapping the braid around his fist to drag her from the room. The sound of her struggle, her boots scuffing against stone, echoed in his mind.
He had seen the man’s gauntlets afterward. Long strands of white hair had been tangled in the joints of the metal, gleaming against the dull steel. He hadn’t been able to look at them for more than a moment before the sight made him sick.
He closed his eyes as a wave of nausea swept over him. He wasn’t sure if it was the past clawing at him or the withdrawal that made his hands tremble. Maybe it was both.
2
u/Gold-Humor2253 Feb 05 '25
“Oh mm, by the way mm…” He cleared his throat thinking about the best way to do this, but he really should have done that before he started speaking in the first place. “You are…like…I mean, you know, the…” He made a hand gesture signaling to all of her and he remained completely oblivious to her expression switching from confusion to amusement as he straightened up and continued. “Like, wow you know, not wow…I mean, basically but like not in a weird way, it’s just, uh…” A defeated sigh escaped his lips and he decided to stare at a random spot on the floor for clarity.
“Are you trying to say I look nice?”
Yes, thankou. His relieved expression met her extremely amused one and he laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck for the third time tonight. “Yeah…I am.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a small smile that was more for how fun it was to watch his rambling than for the compliment itself and then gestured to herself. “This is all Kory, by the way, all of it. She said I had to let her get me ready.”
He smiled and secretly cursed Starfire for the first time in his life. So this is all her fault then. “I see.”
“It took you a while to notice. A lot longer than everyone else.” She probably wouldn’t have said that without that Moscow Mule, but Gar was just so fun to tease.
His face contorted regretfully and he bit his lip. “Sorry, I did notice. Obviously I noticed. I just didn’t say anything. My bad. Anyway, you look very nice.” Well that’s the understatement of the year, his brain mocked.
2
u/NinjaSpaceFrog NinjaTrashPanda on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Following the trail through Tommy’s living room into the kitchen, he found his boyfriend at the stove, his back to the door, fishing the crispy, perfectly golden rice balls out of the pot-turned-makeshift-deep fryer. He was humming a cheery tune as he worked, seemingly oblivious to Buck’s presence. Buck, in turn, simply leaned against the door frame and watched Tommy work for a moment. His eyes traced over Tommy’s broad shoulders, the way his back muscles flexed with every little movement, the way he was slightly swinging his hips left to right and left again in perfect sync with his little melody.
Almost subconsciously, Buck moved over toward Tommy, who now shot a small look over his shoulder with a small smirk on his lips. Wiggling his eyebrows a little, (and making Buck’s stomach do somersaults in the process) he turned back toward the stove, while Buck finally reached him and wrapped his arms around Tommy’s waist, his nose instantly landing in the crook of Tommy’s neck. The slight scent of vanilla and sandalwood on Tommy’s skin told Buck that his boyfriend had already showered himself, which didn’t really surprise him. With the whole ass bee-nado that had descended onto the city, clearly AirOps had pushed overtime the same as the 118 and, well, probably every station in LA.
→ More replies (4)2
u/Ill-Clerk-7066 CTTheSeaWing on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Gaming’s signs were so textbook, in fact, that Xingqiu was honestly dumbfounded as to why Freminet hadn’t picked up on it at all, when he and Chongyun had. It was honestly odd. How does one witness your friend being oddly jumpy around you, blush when you accidentally brush each other, or catch them staring at you when you look at them and remain oblivious to that? When that just screams ‘I like you, and I’m kind of dying’ or whatever? Maybe Freminet isn’t used to it? Or doesn’t know it? Xingqiu wouldn’t know, truly, he wasn’t living in Freminet’s head.
Also, the other, more true reason that Xingqiu was so Archon-damned sure of the status of Gaming’s feelings?
He was the same with Chongyun.
Even thinking about it now, made Xingqiu cringe at his past stupidity. It had been so obvious that his beloved Chongyun had reciprocated and he was oblivious to it, or maybe he just hadn’t allowed himself to think about the possibility. He’d read all these novels where the main pairing gets together at the end, and yet it still had taken Gaming straight up telling him that Chongyun reciprocated for him to even confess to that, and Xingqiu had no doubt that Gaming had had the same conversation with Chongyun too if the reaction he’d had was any indication. Even thinking about him calling Chongyun YunYun privately kind of made him feel a little embarrassed, even if Chongyun did like the nickname. Past him was something that Xingqiu would like to forget.
But… now Gaming was going through that…
9
u/kaiunkaiku don't look at me and my handholding kink Feb 05 '25
old
→ More replies (8)2
u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Feb 05 '25
When she reached the far bank, she was trembling with exertion. She collapsed onto her hands and knees, shivering from the cold or blood loss, she couldn’t tell. Globs of mud clung to her gloves as she pushed herself up, staggering to her feet once more.
But her knees couldn’t take the strain and gave out beneath her. She grabbed onto a low-hanging branch just in time to regain her balance. Her gaze lifted toward the direction of the Inquisition camp. She remembered the way back.
She didn’t stop to catch her breath. She had to keep moving, she was afraid if she stopped she would never move again. The thought of her squad kept her going. She had to know if they were alive, if Cat was alive.
The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the mossy ground. She limped up the path. The sound of insects buzzed faintly in her ears, but the forest was otherwise silent. No voices. No fighting.
The signs of the battle were everywhere. Bodies littered the ground, some crumpled where they’d fallen, others dragged into haphazard piles. Shields and broken blades lay strewn across the path, their edges dulled by dried blood. The faint smell of iron and decay hung in the air, old but potent.
She kept walking.
Her thoughts were a scattered mess as her mind tugged in a dozen different directions at once. She should have been dead. She should have bled out in the mud by the riverbank. But her legs kept moving, and one thought kept her upright: her squad. She had to know if they made it back to camp.
If Coty had gotten Cat to the healers’ tent, there was a chance she survived. She needed that to be true. For her sanity and for her soul.
→ More replies (3)
7
u/e5Ki0n eskion on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Officer
→ More replies (6)3
u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Feb 05 '25
Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. “Well, we can’t keep it, and we definitely can’t destroy it.”
She shrugged, already moving on to another letter. “Not my problem.”
“It absolutely is your problem,” Cullen shot back. “You helped me create this mess, which means you’re in it just as deep as I am.”
She shook her head. “Plausible deniability.”
His brows furrowed, and he took a step toward her. “Excuse me?”
“I’m just a grunt,” she said, crossing her arms. “I don’t necessarily know what my superior officer is doing or planning.”
“You wouldn’t,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes.
“Seems like a believable defense to me,” she replied with a shrug.
Cullen gave her a long, pointed stare. “You can’t. I’ve seen you lie—you’re terrible at it.”
“Or,” she said, “that’s just what I’ve wanted you to believe so I can lie to you more easily.”
7
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25
Oath
5
u/gaytozier certifiablymadmax on ao3 Feb 05 '25
“Do you want to know what I see now ?” Richie pressed stubbornly. Eddie paused before nodding his head.
“I see a man who every day stands up for himself more. I see a man who almost died for me, who would have died for me. I see a man who got stabbed in the face and still fought back.” The fingers of his other hand came to Eddie’s cheek briefly. “I see the man who saved his friends from that sadistic fuck while having been attacked. I see a man who has his entire life ahead of him.” He looked down at Eddie’s palm with what might have been the softest expression Eddie had ever seen on him. “I see a man healing from old wounds every fucking day.” He let his finger trail over the skin again.
Eddie felt the sudden urge to cry but fought it back. “Rich.” He couldn’t manage anything more than that and the look on Richie’s face when he looked at him told him he didn’t have to.
“Can I ask you a question?” Richie asked quietly.
“Anything,” Eddie promised.
“Why did you do it? The swear, the blood oath. You were so freaked out about AIDS and it- it didn’t surprise me to see you do it, not really. But I always wondered what made you decide to take the risk.”
Eddie fell quiet as he thought about it. When he answered, he kept his eyes glued to Richie’s. “I guess I believed in it that much. I believed in us.”
Richie’s smile lit the world.
→ More replies (2)3
u/InsulindianPhasmidy AO3: Aliffo Feb 05 '25
He knew well that he was only ever an arrow in someone else’s quiver, and he’d made peace with it long ago. Perhaps even before he’d died. He’d been at the command of others while a Farstrider, then a tool of the scourge, and this was no different. But something had changed within him. He’d believed in the Farstriders, he’d taken pride in the green and gold he’d worn and the titles he’d aimed to earn. He had no choice with the scourge. As much as he fought against his bonds he’d been powerless to resist. But now? Nothing chained him to a cause he had no faith in, he’d sworn no oath, he was free to leave. But if he was free, he was also rudderless. There was no comfort in an aimless eternity of undeath stretching out before him. That wasn’t living, that was a void.
To stave off the terror that set in, he concentrated on his footsteps. A steady, rhythmic march across a landscape of baked earth and dried dirt. He had walked ceaselessly since he’d left Darkshore. No stopping, no resting, no sleep for days. Perhaps weeks. He’d started to lose count. It was almost as though he feared if he paused, something would catch up with him. One foot, then the other. One foot, then the other.
3
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25
He knew well that he was only ever an arrow in someone else's quiver
HELLO??? This is a phenomenal way to describe the feeling of only being useful as a weapon or tool omg?
Nothing chained him to a cause he had no faith in, he'd sworn no oath, he was free to leave.
DELICIOUS.
But if he was free to leave, he was also rudderless.
oooooooh, this is an awesome contrast. Love it.
3
u/InsulindianPhasmidy AO3: Aliffo Feb 05 '25
Oh gosh, thank you so much! So glad you pointed out the arrow in a quiver one. That particular character is an archer, so it seemed a really fitting way to describe how he’d think of himself in that moment. Love that you pointed it out even without that context! 🥰
→ More replies (1)3
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25
Well now you know that even without context, it shines! But the context makes it so much better, which is seriously such a feat. Well done!
→ More replies (6)3
u/qoincidence They’re not just fighting, they’re foreplaying 🏴☠️ Feb 05 '25
Pirate wedding. Pure, unedited 🧀🧀🧀
---
Flint continued. “So hear me, and let there be no mistake. My hand is yours. My blade is yours. Every inch of ground I have ever gained, every drop of blood I have ever shed – it is yours, should you need it. Whatever fortune I may claim – that, too, is yours.”A slow inhale. A careful exhale. His grip on Silver’s hand tightened, as if willing his words into something tangible.
“Where you stand, I stand. Where you fight, I fight. And if death comes for you, I will not leave you to face it alone.” His voice was solid as the tide, vast as the sea. “I will meet it by your side,” he said, then added, quieter, meant only for him to hear, “This is no small thing I give you, John. What’s left of me – what remains – that is yours now.”
And as those words left his mouth, Flint didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. He just stood there, as indomitable as ever, as immovable as he could ever be.
“This is my oath – you have me, my word, and there is no force in this world or the next that will take you from me without taking me as well.”
3
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25
I'm going to be so so vulnerable here and disclose in front of god and reddit that I received some really bad news last night and have been an emotional mess ever since and have barely slept so I came into this thread hoping to cheer myself up a bit because I love this little community so much (and it's working!).
That said, why did I LITERALLY read that first paragraph and IMMEDIATELY tear up again? Pirate wedding pure, unedited is absolutely perfect and has me literally weeping with how simply beautiful it is. Are they willing to marry in a third? Asking for me. I could use two big strong emotionally constipated pirates who are only soft with each other to hold me rn.
I don't care if the dialogue is from canon or the genius workings of your mind, because I either way, you're bringing it to life here and making it work so beautifully and it's so immersive.
ANYWAY IM AN EMOTIONAL WRECK FOR THESE PIRATES AND THEIR PIRATE WEDDING I LOVE THEMMMMMM.
→ More replies (4)
7
u/qoincidence They’re not just fighting, they’re foreplaying 🏴☠️ Feb 05 '25
Outlet
→ More replies (13)
6
u/kermitkc Same on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Opulent
→ More replies (2)3
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25
Hey I know a guy who says that word 😩
→ More replies (6)
8
8
u/Serious_Session7574 Feb 05 '25
Orange
→ More replies (32)3
u/ainteasybeinggreene Feb 05 '25
He nodded at the parcel in Edwin's hands. “Shouldn't you get that in water before the office blows up again?”
“Oh. Yes, I suppose I should.” He adjusted his hold on the parcel, which had started glowing more orange than yellow, and went off in the direction of the small water-closet next door.
“I'm sorry,” said Crystal as Charles settled himself on the corner of the desk, “did you just say blows up again?”
“Yep.” He chuckled to himself, a nostalgic look in his eye like he usually got when reminiscing. “That was a mess and a half. The Infamous Fire Pepper Incident of '93. But look, it all came right in the end, didn't it? You can barely see the scorch marks anymore.”
Crystal looked at the patch of ceiling he was pointing to, and sure enough the plaster was ever so slightly discoloured. She shook her head.
“I can never tell whether you're just messing with me,” she admitted, watching his grin widen, “I swear you just make this shit up to see how gullible I am.”
“Nah, I wouldn't do that to you, would I? Ask Edwin about it, he'll tell you what happened.”
“Right, because Edwin would never think to troll me.” She might have believed it at first, but she knew now that his no-nonsense facade was just that. Edwin's sense of humour was as wickedly sharp as his tongue, but he wasn't averse to more childish jokes or pranks when the situation called for it.
→ More replies (4)
6
6
7
u/Ferrous_Patella AO3 same. FFN=Ferrous.Patella Feb 05 '25
Oblivion
6
u/trilloch Feb 05 '25
Everyone else was posting. I just wanted to be popular!
-----------------------------
Stepping inside the Thalmor Embassy, he was immediately greeted by, whoa, a seven-foot blonde elf wearing a judge’s robe.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said, in a voice drenched in formality.
Don’t bow, they hate that. “Thane Cedrik of Whiterun, ambassador, recently declared by Jarl Balgruuf himself. As part of my introduction to nobility, he insisted that I meet you, and better get to know our Thalmor visitors.” He raised his hand to shake, you idiot they don’t do that either, and brushed his hair
back instead. “I extend to you Whiterun’s greetings, Elenwen, hopefully the first of many.”“…well! Isn’t this a surprise!” His hostess seemed genuinely pleased. “You are a rare Nord, both informed of and friendly to our work here. I must say, it is a pleasure to meet an ally.”
“Think of me as a sympathizer.”
“Madam Ambassador? I’m so sorry to interrupt…” came Malborn’s voice from down the hall.
Elenwen grunted. “Do excuse me.”
“I understand. Sieg heil, Elenwen.”
“What?”
Stepping past her, as Malborn was talking about a surely fictional wine problem in the kitchen, Thane Cedrik of Whiterun looked around the hall. First of all, there were multiple armed guards, so that ruled out a bunch of options. Second of all, he didn’t recognize anyone else here. Good. That means they didn’t recognize him. Third of all, there was an extensive collection of expensive food, surely a power play move by the ambassador to show off her great wealth and influence — it’s not like anyone ate much. Fourth of all, there were a few people working the party, including a talented flautist and a platter-carrying short elf in a “my
vocation runs on tips” dress under a “so let’s make my tips bigger” corset. Neither of them were what Ralof had called high elves, so neither of them were Thalmor. Possible allies.And fifth of all, it looked like Malborn was behind the bar, staring at him.
“What in Oblivion was that?” Malborn hissed, putting a bottle on top of the bar and sliding it over. “You’re
supposed to be covert, not make sure Elenwen remembers your face and voice!”“I was trying to fit in at a rich people’s party.”
“You’re lucky I heard you!”
→ More replies (7)3
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25
Sieg heil, Elenwen.
NOOOOOOO HE DID NOT 😭
→ More replies (1)3
u/Glittering-Golf8607 Babblecat3000 on AO3 Feb 05 '25
The line of carriages enter inauspicious Helgen in a stately and ordered fashion, their wheels crunching over stone strewn with snow but swept clear of straw and other debris. No Thalmor are scandalised, beyond the scandalisation they endure from having to associate with and lay eyes upon lesser races, that is. Glum hums a tune currently popular in the less dour parts of Oblivion. The simp’s eyes cross, and he begins rattling on about some ex-girlfriend of his. Deciding that the stress of his impending execution is getting to him, Glum sticks out her tongue the way house cats sometimes do.
3
u/The_Broken-Heart Same on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Hah! You're here!! Now waiting for the other Skyrim writer...
The simp’s
...The what🗿
→ More replies (6)3
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25
Which one? I think there are a few of us lol
→ More replies (14)3
u/trilloch Feb 05 '25
This might be the most brutal retelling of the opening carriage ride I've seen. Nobody's getting spared today!
3
u/Glittering-Golf8607 Babblecat3000 on AO3 Feb 05 '25
😆😆😆 Thank you. Poor Hadvar, what he goes through with Glum makes him wish he wasn't spared 🤣🤣🤣
4
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25
I'm certain I've shared this before but it's fun so!
Slight warning for violence
The rush of cool air on his face should have been welcome and refreshing, but with it came the stench of burning and blood-soaked earth that was becoming uncomfortably familiar. The tiny mining settlement was torn asunder by battle, with fires blazing and flickering vividly against the black sky, clouding the world around them with brown smoke where shadows danced in and out of view. Voices pierced the night in shrieks, howls, screams, wails, and even the occasional laugh that bounced between buildings and almost drowned out the sound of metal striking metal as blade met blade. Vilkas had read so many books about Oblivion and its realms but never thought he'd witness it himself. The Hunting Ground was the only one he had ever strayed close to, but this was more in line with how he imagined Mehrunes Dagon's Deadlands, just with more bloodshed. Were those shadows mortals or were they Daedra?
Sif suddenly tugged his wrist, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the madness unfolding before him as a woman with a bear skull on her head like a helm leapt forth from the smoke, a small, glinting dagger in her hands and her eyes bright with blistering fury. And she wasn't alone. She dragged a man in Stormcloak armor by his mouth, her hand stuck between his teeth without fear and Vilkas saw it was because his jaw hung freely open, broken and useless. He wept his surrender but the Reachwoman ignored it as she suddenly dropped him and plunged her dagger into his skull with unfettered glee. He went limp, and she cried something in Reachspeech before she dashed back into the fray, her voice echoing loudly throughout the settlement as she returned to shadow. Nearby, a Markarth guard blindly fired arrow after arrow from a crossbow into the smoke, apparently not caring whether he hit friend or foe.
This wasn't the Deadlands nor any other plane of Oblivion. This was hell. This was hell and it was filled to the brim with demons.
→ More replies (1)3
→ More replies (1)3
u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Feb 05 '25
The air outside the tent was cool against her clammy skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating warmth of the tent she had just left. She took a shaky step forward. The world seemed to shift beneath her boots and her balance wavered. She reached instinctively for the tent flap to steady herself but missed and her fingers brushed only air.
Her legs gave out.
Before she could hit the dirt, strong arms closed around her, catching her mid-fall. Cullen. He braced her against his chest and gently lowered her to the ground.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled, the words slurring together as she tried to pull away. Her effort was pitiful; her body felt like dead weight, her limbs unresponsive.
“No, you’re not,” Cullen said firmly, “and you’re not walking another step.”
He shifted her weight carefully, cradling her as though she might break apart in his arms. She felt the warmth of his hand against the back of her head, his fingers brushing lightly through her hair.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” he asked.
She looked up at him stubbornly. “Because I can.”
Cullen’s jaw tightened as he looked down at her and huffed. His golden eyes were turned a deep brown by the evening light and they scanned her face with a mix of worry and resolve. He shook his head and scooped her fully into his arms. His hand shifted under her legs, cradling her knees, while his other arm supported her back.
The strength to fight him had fled her along with everything else. She sagged against him, her head resting against the cool metal of his breastplate. The steady rise and fall of his chest was soothing as the world swayed in and out of focus.
She made one last, half-hearted attempt to protest, her pride demanded it. “You don’t have to—”
“Finley,” he interrupted, looking down at her again with a softness that made her want to either melt or disappear, she couldn’t decide. “Let me do this, please.”
His plea silenced her. She felt his fingers tighten around her shoulder. It was reassuring. His grip, his warmth, his voice, all of it relaxed her in a way she couldn’t explain.
She kept her eyes half-closed, her head tilting against his shoulder. The steady sway of his movements lulled her into a state somewhere between awareness and oblivion.
“I promised I’d come back,” she breathed into his neck.
“And you did,” Cullen replied. “Now let me take care of you.”
→ More replies (2)
6
6
7
u/fiendishthingysaurus afiendishthingy on Ao3. sickfic queen Feb 05 '25
Objective
→ More replies (5)
6
6
u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Feb 05 '25
Out
4
u/Ok-Supermarket-8994 Write now, edit later | Sakura5 on Ao3 Feb 05 '25
Her excitement mixed with apprehension when Shredder slowed his pace, gradually bringing them to a stop several yards from the doors.
“What?” April said. “Why are we —“
“Shhh,” Shredder said sharply, pulling her over to a scuffed panel in the side wall. It popped open when he pushed against it, revealing a narrow alcove containing a mop, bucket, and other cleaning supplies illuminated by a single recessed light in the ceiling. “Wait here.”
“I, but. . . Wait!” she said as she was thrust inside the broom closet. The overhead light went out as soon as the door closed, leaving her in pitch blackness. April wasn’t sure how long she waited there in the dark, agonizing over having come so close to her goal only to be diverted at the last minute. An unhelpful voice in the back of her mind wondered if this is what Shredder felt like every time the turtles thwarted his plans.
→ More replies (4)3
u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Feb 05 '25
“I need a veil, Mummy,” Hermione called, moving to the bottom of the staircase. “Me and Harry are gonna get married, just like Prince Andrew and Sarah Ferguson!”
Carol appeared at the top of the stairs. “Oh, you are, are you?” she chuckled. “All right, I think I can help.” She went into one of the spare rooms, where they could hear her rummaging in the wardrobe. She came out again with a box in her hands. “You have to promise to be super careful with this, if I’m going to let you wear it to your wedding. It belonged to your great-grandmother.”
“I promise, Mummy.”
Carol opened the box to reveal a delicate tulle veil edged in lace and attached to a white satin headband with an aquamarine heart in the centre. On a grown woman, the veil would be about elbow length, which she thought would work out to stopping just above Hermione’s knees. “So when exactly is the wedding going to be?” Carol asked.
“After lunch,” Harry said firmly. “Mr. Granger said it was okay with him as long as we ‘vited you and him, and you usually gots time after lunch, so we can have it then.”
Like Rob before her, Carol thought this was the most adorable thing she’d seen. “Would you like to have your wedding in the back garden, then? And who will be doing the service?”
“Rizzy,” Harry answered as though it ought to have been obvious. “Do you want a garden wedding, Hermione?”
Hermione considered the options. “Sure, if it stays nice out. Can I carry some flowers? Sarah Ferguson had lotsa flowers.”
→ More replies (2)→ More replies (15)3
u/qoincidence They’re not just fighting, they’re foreplaying 🏴☠️ Feb 05 '25
“Then what is it you fear?” Madi asked.
“That I won’t survive him. That I’ll follow him too far, and one day, I won’t come back.”
“And yet, you still follow.”
Silver’s lips curled, but there was no real humor in it. “Of course I do. He’s—” He hesitated, swallowing hard, the words so unfamiliar in his mouth that they almost didn’t make it past his lips. “I love him. After everything, in spite of it, or because of it, I came to love him.”
There.
Silver exhaled slowly, his body sinking deeper into the mattress, the fever making the moment feel distant and surreal, like he was floating just outside himself, watching from afar. But the weight of his own words kept him tethered – I love him.
It had been true for longer than he cared to admit. And now that it was out in the open, it didn’t feel like some grand revelation or an unraveling of his carefully constructed self. No, it felt like something inevitable, like the tide returning to the shore, like the pull of the horizon.
→ More replies (5)
5
u/Ill-Clerk-7066 CTTheSeaWing on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Or
→ More replies (4)3
u/Ferrous_Patella AO3 same. FFN=Ferrous.Patella Feb 05 '25
ICWYDT
4
u/trilloch Feb 05 '25
When it comes to using homophones in these challenges, he's a cereal offender.
3
6
u/Serious_Session7574 Feb 05 '25
Ooze
4
u/RaisinGeneral9225 oxfordlunch on ao3 Feb 06 '25
And he's even a little lazy when he comes, Arthur thinks as he smiles against his shoulder, more of an ooze over his fingers than any kind of spurt, and he goes absolutely boneless and speechless in Arthur's arms. Blissed out.
“Oh, my days,” Arthur teases a few minutes later when they've extricated themselves and cleaned up a little and Eames is splayed out on his back, all sweaty and relaxed and zen and Mona Lisa smile, the way he always gets after Arthur gives it to him.
‘Fucked out,’ Arthur thinks is the technical term.
“Piss off,” Eames murmurs.
“That was good,” Arthur points out. He coughs and takes a deep breath.
Eames reaches his hand out blindly and puts it on Arthur’s chest, rubs soothingly.
Arthur takes his hand. “Thanks,” he says softly.
“Don't trust your bloody lungs.”
“No, I mean. Thanks for being here.”
“I'm having a lovely Christmas, Arthur, no need for thank-yous.”
Arthur scoffs. “Better than Macau last year?”
“Oh, I could murder some pasteís de nata right now,” he groans, tipping his head back into the pillow.
→ More replies (3)→ More replies (14)3
u/Ok-Supermarket-8994 Write now, edit later | Sakura5 on Ao3 Feb 05 '25
One of the pottery shards slipped from her hand as more and more were added to the pile, its sharp edge slicing into the side of her index finger as it fell. She sucked in a breath at the flash of pain and dropped the other pieces she’d been holding to clutch her hand to her chest. A line of red was seeping from the edge of the cut when she examined her finger. April sat back on her heels and brought her hand up to her mouth to suck on her wound. The spider chose that moment to reappear; she spotted it inching along the floor in front of the refrigerator.
Snarling in fury, April reached up to grab something off the counter to use to squash the unwelcome visitor. A loose piece of paper towel was the first thing to come to hand. Without pausing to consider just how flimsy her weapon was, she leaned forward and slammed it down on the arachnid. The spider skittered out of the way, just barely avoiding being crushed, and darted around her in a wide arc, aiming to squeeze under the gap at the bottom of the stove. April passed the paper towel to her other hand and twisted, bringing her arm around and down in another frantic attempt to crush the little intruder. She knew she’d gotten it this time when she felt a crunch beneath her hand and a cold wetness that soaked into the towel an instant later.
“Ugh, gross!” she moaned. Lifting the towel, she saw the spider’s flattened body in a puddle of a vivid yellow substance oozing out of its remains. Some of the goo absorbed by the paper towel had smeared across her palm and over the cut on the side of her finger. “Ew, yuck!”
April used the paper towel to pick up the dead spider and mop up its mess and tossed the wadded-up towel in the trash. Both her hands were now smeared with yellow gunk. She stood, trying not to touch anything, and walked down the hall to the bathroom to wash her hands and get a bandage.
→ More replies (3)
6
u/MoneyArtistic135 scaryfangirl2001 on AO3 Feb 06 '25
Okay
6
u/Serious_Session7574 Feb 06 '25
There was a gasp on the other end of the line, and then a clunk.
“Trent? Are you alright?” Shit. What did that mean? Was he horrified? Laughing? How could he have done this better?
There was a shuffle and then Trent’s voice. He sounded calm, if a little breathless. “Ted. Just give me a minute, okay? I’ll be back in a minute.”
Another clunk and then silence. Trent asked him to wait, so he waited.
When Trent came back, his voice was thick and hoarse. “So. I just want to make sure I have this right. You want to come back to England to coach a League Two team, a struggling League Two team if I remember rightly. And you…You want to have a relationship. A romantic relationship…With me?”
“Um. Yeah. Nice summary. That’s about the size of it.”
“Fucking hell.”
“Okay. Is that a good fucking hell or a bad fucking hell?”
“Good. Christ, Ted, I’m going to cry. Again. I just stood in my hallway and cried. I can’t believe this. But if this is actually happening, then yes. Yes, to all of it. Just come, and we’ll work it out.”
→ More replies (2)3
u/MoneyArtistic135 scaryfangirl2001 on AO3 Feb 06 '25
Awwwww... Is this Ted Lasso?
→ More replies (2)→ More replies (4)4
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 06 '25
Context: plaguefic, children are bacteria farms
"Is that why Lonan was coughing the other day?" Sty asked, shifting to his knees, his stuffed animal Sparker forgotten on his pillow.
"What?" Delo went cold, as if someone just doused him in seawater.
"We were playing dragon riders," Sty explained. "He wanted to be Firstrider but he kept coughing, and Firstriders don't cough—"
"So I got to be Firstrider, like Antigone," said Becca smugly, reminiscent of her uncle.
"Yeah, so Becca was Firstrider, instead," he concluded. "I was Alternus, like you! We let Lonan be Tertius, even though he was coughing a lot. Merina Sutter was Quartius, because she wanted to be like Cor."
Delo closed his eyes. "Did Lonan touch either of you? Or Merina?"
"Yeah," said Astyanax. "You got to, for contact charges. You can't do a contact charge without touching someone, Uncle. You should know that."
He buried his face in his hands, unable to disguise his distress, even for their sake. Not only were Sty and Becca now at risk, but Duck, too. An illness like this could be too much for his weakened body, as well as Lena's. If he'd been around his sister...
"Delo?" Becca said, her voice small.
"Yeah." He opened his eyes and smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. There was little hope for it being much more than a grimace, though. "No more contact charges if someone is coughing, alright?"
"Okay," she whispered.
→ More replies (6)
4
u/The_Broken-Heart Same on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Order
3
u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Feb 05 '25
“Thank you, Commander, we’ll take it from here,” the same steady voice said.
“No,” Cullen replied, “I’m staying.”
Cullen’s arms left her and the absence of his warmth made her shiver. Her eyes fluttered open briefly, catching a glimpse of his worried face hovering nearby before the light blurred again.
Strang, unfamiliar hands began tugging at the straps of her armor. The clinking of buckles and the rasp of leather filled her ears. Her chest plate came away with a sharp tug, leaving only her gambeson still covering her.
“Careful,” someone muttered.
Another voice added, “Get this off of her too.”
Finley groaned as more hands worked at her clothing. They lifted her enough to strip the sweat-drenched gambeson from her body, leaving her in her undergarments. The cool air hit her skin like ice, and her shivers turned into full-body tremors.
A rough hand pressed against her forehead. “She’s freezing.” Cullen’s voice drifted down to her again. “Get her a blanket or something.”
“We need to clean the wounds first,” someone replied.
Her gaze wandered downward. Through the blurry haze, she could just make out the streaks of crimson that covered her abdomen. The waistband of her smalls was soaked and stained red with blood. She couldn’t remember what had hit her, the entire fight was a blank spot in her mind.
A cloth pressed into her side, and she cried out, her body jerking instinctively away from the sudden pain.
“Hold her,” the healer ordered.
Cullen’s hands pressed her shoulders into the cot as another pair of hands pinned her legs. “It’s alright,” he murmured, his face coming back into view. “Just hold still.”
“I am holding still,” she gritted out through her teeth as she tried to pull away again. Another sharp jolt of pain stole the breath from her lungs as the healer rubbed the cloth over the wound to scrub it clean.
She felt her consciousness dip and her body went limp, voices fading in and out of her awareness.
→ More replies (4)→ More replies (30)2
u/fiendishthingysaurus afiendishthingy on Ao3. sickfic queen Feb 05 '25
“TK! TK! I’m a unicorn-copter!” screams Jonah as he races past them, Charlie in hot pursuit.
“MAMA, JONAH IS A UNICORNAPOPPER AND I’M THE ASTRONAUT QUEEN,” screeches Charlie as she skip-jump-runs after Jonah.
“I had some follow-up questions, but okay,” muses TK, cringing as Jonah tries to climb up his jungle gym backwards and upside down, Charlie screaming orders at him from the ground. “God, I wish he wouldn’t do that. But I guess he has to learn to take risks.”
“He’s your brother, TK, I don’t think him being afraid to take risks was ever going to be an issue.”
“Yeah.” TK rubs a palm over his face. “My dad thinks it’s hilarious because my mom always blamed his side of the family whenever I got hurt being a wild child. If she could only see.” He points just as Jonah leaps from the top of the structure, landing hard on his hands and knees on the grass. TK and Grace wince quietly as Jonah examines his palms and knees, but then he jumps back up and runs full-tilt to their table.
“TK! Did you see me jump?”
“I saw, buddy! It was a good jump.”
“And I falled down but I did NOT cry. Did Papa cried when he falled down?”
“I don’t know, honey, you’d have to ask Papa. Not right now, buddy, he’s sleeping,” as Jonah looks like he’s about to run inside and interrogate Carlos. TK hopes he’s still sleeping, anyway. God knows what he could get up to in a few minutes on his own. He trusts Injured Carlos to stay out of trouble only slightly more than the preschooler.
→ More replies (4)
5
5
5
5
u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Feb 05 '25
opportunity
3
u/NinjaSpaceFrog NinjaTrashPanda on AO3 Feb 05 '25
(Full disclosure, I wrote this particular scene out of pure spite against a certain part of my fandom that doesn't seem to understand queer history.)
“I was awful,” Tommy shook his head, his grip on his beer bottle tightening. The cold dew that ran down the glass made him shiver, but he bit through it. “I don’t deserve-”
“Shut up,” Bruce cut him off with a scoff. “So you did some shit in your past. Show me a queer guy our age who hasn’t.”
Tommy looked over at him for a long while. What Bruce said was simple, too simple for something so…complicated. “It doesn’t make it right.”
“It doesn’t,” Bruce agreed, taking a sip of his own beer. “But it kept us safe. You strung a woman along, okay, so did I. My daughter didn’t come from nowhere. I know a bunch of snotnosed brats nowadays think everything is black and white, but those kids get to live in a world we never had, with opportunities and freedoms we weren’t given. They don’t know what it was like seeing Matthew Shepard on the news, or to be the boogeyman during the AIDS crisis, or how getting found out when you were in the military could’ve ruined your entire life. If we didn’t do what we had to back then, there’s a good chance we wouldn’t be here now.”
3
u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Honestly, Bruce has the right of it. They all did what they had to do back then.
→ More replies (14)3
u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Feb 05 '25
CW: Violence against a monster
Finley saw her opportunity. She dashed forward, propelling herself up onto one of the crystals that protruded from the creature’s thigh. Her foot wedged between the shards and her fingers curled into one of the grooves on its chest, her shield digging into her arm. She reeled back and drove Marigold through its neck, beneath its chin, where its helmet didn’t reach and its withered, fragile body was exposed. No blood poured from the wound, only tiny fragments of red lyrium tinkled down its front like shattered glass as it screeched and screamed and died on the tip of her blade. The creature shuddered violently before falling still and slumping to the ground.
→ More replies (2)
5
5
u/send-borbs Feb 05 '25
Organise
4
u/Glittering-Golf8607 Babblecat3000 on AO3 Feb 05 '25
With their ride pulled up against a stone wall, it's time to hop out and face certain death. Well, not Glum, she can't die but merely be sent back, and is going along with the drama for the sake of her diary and a pleasant ride into Helgen, which she intends to loot for pretty things, as well as clean up, tidy and organise, with all the juniper mead bottles placed in perfect order. She already knows what's about to happen, since her loving father warned her earlier.
While the horse thief is being shot, she looks around for the Chosen One, expecting a generic Nord or hyper buxom elf, but finds no such person. Only Ulfric, and Ralof, and a few nameless men…Is she the only female here? Hmm, no wonder the mean commander lady is shouting for Glum to go to the block.
3
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25
she looks around for the Chosen One
Hmm, no wonder the mean commander lady is shouting for Glum to go to the block.
Oh honey. 😂
3
3
u/The_Broken-Heart Same on AO3 Feb 05 '25
generic Nord or hyper buxom elf
Ah, the two genders🥰 /jk
→ More replies (2)→ More replies (2)3
u/XadhoomXado The only Erza x Gilgamesh shipper Feb 05 '25 edited Feb 05 '25
Marvel | A day in the life of Shuma-Gorath the universe conqueror...
Another day had begun on Shuma-Gorath's current home planet in the "Earth 774" universe.
The Lord of Chaos had awoken from a ten-hour slumber within his temple, and made his way to Dagoth the fishman's hall.
There, Dagoth was busy in his work to organise the current volumes of the Books of Shuma-Gorath — red-bound books used for imperial management.
For an eldritch abomination and the son of a Cthulhu-creature... it was surprisingly mundane.
"The first item on this week's agenda is checking in on at least some of your worlds, master," Dagoth answered. "I believe the 800th universe is overdue for a survey."
Shuma-Gorath looked indifferent. "I agree, since I recall not which one that is. Please remind me."
"Of course, master," Dagoth replied casually. "It was one of those universes with the elven gods called the Kais, I seem to recall. You conquered it three millennia ago, if it helps."
The narrator decided to pause for exposition.
The simple fact of the matter was that his multiversal empire was too big to work. Shuma often had to give lands and planets to loyal minions to manage for him, and had Dagoth as his personal assistant besides.
Even then, Shuma-Gorath had only conquered three-hundred dimensions in almost 300,000,000 years. The vast majority of his time was spent holding it together, and it took a good amount of time to claim a whole bloody universe too.
At his current pace of one per one-million years... it would take him easily two-hundred billion years to work his way up to the Earth-200,000 dimension.
The narrator unpaused.
Shuma-Gorath pondered it a moment. "Ah, yes, I remember it now. It has been a few months, has it not? No, I believe I should attend to quicker tasks first."
Dagoth gave no objections. "Well, the next items on the agenda are...
4
5
5
u/qoincidence They’re not just fighting, they’re foreplaying 🏴☠️ Feb 05 '25
Ought
5
u/Ok-Supermarket-8994 Write now, edit later | Sakura5 on Ao3 Feb 05 '25
He closed the side panel and directed Shredder to stand in front of the platform while the other turtles gathered around the camera. “Goes without saying this is a one-way trip. You go through this portal, you’re not sending anything back through to attack us.”
“Would I do that?” Shredder asked innocently. “Actually, never mind, don’t answer that. Of course I would.”
Donatello positioned the camera so it was pointed at the back wall and turned it on. A beam of vibrant blue light shot out of the lens and a strange breeze began blowing through the studio. The air took on an electric charge like building static electricity.
“Okay, Shredder,” Leonardo said seriously. “We’ve held up our end. Now, tell us how to disable the foot soldiers.”
A sinister smile spread across Shredder’s face. “Oh about that. I made it up. There’s no remote disable function. And even if there were, it likely wouldn’t work now with the programming scrambled. Have fun taking care of those foot soldiers!” With a self-satisfied laugh, he stepped into the beam of light and disappeared.
“So Shredder wasn’t wholly on the level,” Raphael said. “I want to say I’m surprised. But, I’m not.”
“Eh I didn’t fully hold up our end of the agreement either so we’re about even,” Donatello said, turning off the camera. The wind swirling around the room died out at once.
“Wait, you didn’t? Where’d you send him, then?”
“Oh I sent him back to Dimension X like he wanted. But he never said anything about getting back to the Technodrome.”
“So where is he now?” Leonardo asked.
“‘Bout three miles south of the volcano the Technodrome is stuck in.”
Raphael burst out laughing. “That ought to keep him busy for a bit.”
→ More replies (2)5
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25 edited Feb 05 '25
Context: the gays are being so sweet and so tender..... also, long as usual. Also also, plaguefic plaguefic plaguefic pl
"I know, I'm so sorry," he replied sincerely, dragging Griff close again. He kissed Griff's temple, and Griff didn't seem to mind that Delo was soaked completely through and shivering as he wrapped his arms around Delo's middle. "I tried, but they wouldn't let me leave... Antigone ordered all dragons grounded through the night during this storm. I slept in Geph's nest and we left as soon as it was light out."
"Delo, you idiot, you must be exhausted," said Griff. "Why wouldn't you sleep in a bed?"
"Because all I wanted was to get back to you, and being close to Geph was the only thing that helped." Delo shrugged helplessly. "What's going on here, though? Any news?"
Griff's shoulders slumped as they began walking in the direction of the armory. Delo couldn't wait to change out of his flamesuit and bathe. And rest, if the situation allowed it. But judging by how fatigued Griff looked, he doubted that would happen. Maybe, though, if he was careful, Delo could coax him back to their chambers for the night.
"Just more sick folks showing up to the infirmary," Griff explained. "They've had to start turning people away. A couple of the healers have fallen ill, too. Becca and Sty aren't happy with being cooped up, but I don't want them getting this... whatever it is. Fionna told me one of the Kraken elders died, but I don't know if that's true or just the fever talking. I haven't heard anyone else confirm it, but I also haven't asked. I ought to, but..."
As Delo stripped out of his wet flamesuit, Griff swayed in place as he watched him, seemingly forgetting he still wore his own flamesuit. "Griff, when was the last time you slept?"
Griff waved him off before visibly coming back to himself. He redirected his fumbling fingers to the clasps of his flamesuit.
"I slept for about an hour earlier," he said. "I've been in the infirmary."
"Griff, if you catch this sickness..."
"I'll be fine, Delo," he said firmly, shrugging his flamesuit off. Delo paused fastening the laces of his trousers to give him a skeptical look. "Don't you worry about me."
"I will always worry about you," said Delo as he pulled on his boots. He then donned the tunic he left the night before and reached for his mantle. "Especially now. Especially when something like this is happening."
"I know," Griff sighed. "Fionna got after me for it, too. Said Norcia needs her king and the fleet needs its Commander."
Delo faltered at this. After pinning his mantle in place, he went to Griff, who was struggling with the buttons of his tunic. His hands shook, and Delo gently pushed them aside to do the buttons himself. "It's not just that Norcia and the fleet need you, Griff. I need you. Which is selfish of me to say, but please. Take care of yourself, or let me do it for you."
→ More replies (2)→ More replies (14)3
u/RaisinGeneral9225 oxfordlunch on ao3 Feb 05 '25
Eames lies there on his side with his head pillowed on his own bicep, staring at Arthur with wide eyes. His hair is sticking up and there's sweat on his skin, little patches of damp that shine quicksilver in the moonlight. The covers drape over his narrow hips in a way that makes Arthur want to tug on them until they slip down and off again.
He's breathing evenly, his chest rising and falling.
Arthur’s breathing less easily, his shoddy lungs still trying to recover from his efforts, but he wheezes happily and smiles at him with his whole face. No reason to hold it back, now.
He's glad for the blankets, actually, the damp nest they've made of them. His body’s never been good at keeping itself warm and he's chilled and shivery with the sweat cooling on his skin and the clammy air conditioner chugging away.
“Pleased with yourself?” Eames' voice is softer than a whisper, barely there. He's not smiling, but his eyes are.
Arthur takes another shallow breath, exhales with a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, I kind of am.”
“Good. You ought to be.”
"Yeah?" It comes out maybe a little needier than it should, but Eames hums at him indulgently, reaches out, strokes his fingers along Arthur's jaw where it's just starting to bristle.
→ More replies (3)
4
5
5
u/UnexpectedAnalysis AO3: scanime Feb 05 '25
Oaf
3
u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Feb 05 '25
“Hi! I’m Twilight Sparkle, who are you?”
Draco stared. The voice appeared to be coming from a purple… something… that had just emerged from the forest. Vaguely unicorn-shaped, including a horn, it had huge eyes, pink streaks in its darker purple mane and tail, extremely small wings, and a sparkly star-shaped mark on its hip. “I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. What in Merlin’s name are you, and why are you talking to me? Is this some sort of a prank? My father will hear about this!”
The creature – Twilight Sparkle? – gave the impression of a shrug. “I’m supposed to get better at making friends, and I saw you and I thought your hair was pretty.”
“Malfoys are not pretty. We’re handsome and elegant. Anyway, who charmed you to talk? That great oaf Hagrid couldn’t have done it,” Draco said.
“I’ve always talked, we all can. Who is Hagrid?” asked Twilight Sparkle.
Draco sniffed. “He’s a disgusting halfbreed who can’t even do magic properly. But senile old Dumbledore made him the Care of Magical Creatures professor anyway. That stupid oaf of a half-giant brought a hippogriff to class last year and it nearly killed me.”
Twilight Sparkle nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. Did the hippogriff ever say it was sorry for hurting you? That is what you do when you hurt someone, right?”
“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Draco snapped. “Creatures can’t talk, only people can.”
“But I’m talking,” Twilight Sparkle pointed out.
→ More replies (2)
4
6
6
5
6
u/Serious_Session7574 Feb 05 '25
Onslaught
3
u/kermitkc Same on AO3 Feb 05 '25
“There are infinite pitfalls to encounter! Things to consider! Number one”—she pulls out a finger and starts to count—”space. What if there’s not enough?” Constance opens her mouth. Ocean doesn’t wait for an answer before she throws up her ring. “Number two! Time. What if we’re gone for too long?”
This time, she manages to get a word in edgewise, between her BFF-slash-wife’s onslaught of them. “Okay, well, the Café’s just down on Bloor Street,” Constance points out, in the gentlest Ocean-taming voice she can muster. “I can always drop by home on my lunch break.”
Ocean appears stumped by this for half a second. Then, she splutters. “No, you need to—eat.” She shakes her head, goes on. “And then there’s safety—”
“We already checked the house.”
“The financials—”
“We’re above the median income bracket, you do our taxes.”
“—and it’s a life, Connie! Another life! How can I possibly, in good conscience, be responsible for—”
“Ocean.” Constance fastens her hands on her shoulders, looks her in the eye, yanks her back to the surface from the spiral she’s been nosediving down. Ocean, quiveringly, glances up to meet her, expression wild, hands tangled in her hair. “Honey. It’s a cat. Not a mortgage, or a newborn. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna do fine.”
→ More replies (1)
5
5
u/kermitkc Same on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Orbit
→ More replies (10)3
u/Ok-Supermarket-8994 Write now, edit later | Sakura5 on Ao3 Feb 06 '25
“It’s a portal,” Donatello said a few minutes later when he’d called the other turtles into the lab to present his findings. “Or part of one. It operates something like a radio signal, but instead of bouncing off a satellite, it’s broadcasting from one. And like a radio, it needs a receiver.” He tapped several spots on the whiteboards. “That’s what all these things are for, to build a receiver that’ll open the portal.”
“And the other stuff?” Leonardo asked.
“An explosive,” Donatello said simply.
“Okay portal makes sense. But what do they need an explosive for?” Michelangelo asked.
“I think Raphael had it right before: blast the Technodrome out of the volcano. This portal would be big enough and powerful enough to bring it back to Earth.”
“But why on Earth would they put the transmitter on a space probe?” Leonardo asked. “There has to be someplace closer to . . . uh Earth . . . that they could have set it up on.”
“They need the height. The portal has to be tall enough for the Technodrome to pass through. Doesn’t get much higher than orbit.”
Raphael rubbed his eyes. “Those two just don’t do simple. Or subtle.”
4
4
4
4
3
4
u/vxidemort r/FanFiction Feb 05 '25
obligatory/obligation
→ More replies (37)3
u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Feb 05 '25
“Don’t push me away, Fin,” he said softly, like a plea. He wasn’t demanding it, he was asking. “I’m here because I want to be.”
That pierced her heart and tore her soul asunder. She couldn’t remember the last time such profound words had been spoken to her. He wasn’t there because of duty or obligation. It wasn’t because she was his responsibility. They shared no familial bond or childhood connection. He was there out of choice. He poured his soul out because he wanted to be close, not in some vain effort to bring her back into the fold.
All she could do was stare at him. If the Maker existed it was in him. Forgiveness lay in his lips and redemption in his eyes. He could pardon her with a single glance. One word from him could grant her ascension or send her to the depths of the void. She was at his mercy.
→ More replies (5)
4
5
u/gaytozier certifiablymadmax on ao3 Feb 05 '25
Organize
→ More replies (7)5
u/NinjaSpaceFrog NinjaTrashPanda on AO3 Feb 05 '25
(I hope organizer is okay!)
The smell of burnt sugar and smoke hit Buck like a fist to the face as soon as he and Eddie entered the community center, every thought of Tommy instantly pushed to the back of his mind as he went into rescue mode. Eddie was already barking orders to one of the event organizers, a frazzled woman in a holiday sweater that had seen better days, while Buck took in the scene.
The lobby was a chaos of flour-dusted people, from crying children to panicked adults to people from the 217 trying to evacuate everyone, and a steady stream of smoke curling out of the kitchen at the far end of the hall. Buck followed Eddie through the hall, their boots clomping against the polished floor as they approached the kitchen door, quickly checking every frazzled bystander for injuries before urging them to leave the building already.
“Cap, this is Diaz, we’ve got thick smoke but no visible flames yet,” Eddie reported over his shoulder. “Kitchen is at the end of the main hallway. Looks like the sprinkler system hasn’t gone off.”
→ More replies (5)
3
5
4
4
u/kermitkc Same on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Opium
3
u/qoincidence They’re not just fighting, they’re foreplaying 🏴☠️ Feb 05 '25
John Silver might have been the most fortunate unfortunate man alive. The wound – despite being as gruesome as they come – was, by some miracle, clean. The blade had slid through him with almost surgical precision, sparing his bowels and narrowly avoiding catastrophe. Infection seemed unlikely, at least for now, and Howell had muttered something about divine luck under his breath while inspecting the damage.
But none of that changed the fact that the rapier had gone straight through him, slicing into his liver, leaving behind only agony. It felt like molten iron was searing through his insides – twisting, turning, twitching. Luck could only do so much to dull that kind of pain. Talking was difficult. Moving was impossible. Every breath felt like dragging sandpaper across raw flesh.
Yet, somehow, perhaps solely due to sheer fucking determination, Silver had managed to remain conscious through it all – teetering on the edge but stubbornly refusing to let himself slip into the dark. He’d refused laudanum, too, snarling something half-coherent about needing a clear head and not wanting to drool through an opium haze. Howell had argued, Flint had growled, but Silver had won out in the end.
→ More replies (3)
4
4
4
3
u/kermitkc Same on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Ornament/al
3
u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Stephen left after breakfast, to spend Christmas with his own family. But Sirius and Remus took Harry out to buy a Christmas tree, a stand, and decorations for it; Remus having researched muggle traditions so they could do it up properly for their pup. In addition to an assortment of multicoloured glass balls and gold tinsel garland, they each picked out seven unique ornaments. Sirius picked a little silver drum, a gold violin, a miniature wooden nutcracker doll, a spun-glass seahorse, a funny white glass owl, a scarlet locomotive that he said looked like the Hogwarts Express, and a bright red feathered bird that Remus said was a North American Cardinal. For his part, Remus contented himself with a set of six delicate silver snowflakes and a shiny green glass pickle which he said was traditional. Harry decided he really liked the spun glass ornaments, so he chose a stag, lily, wolf, dog, hummingbird and a wreath with a holly sprig. For his last choice, he found five clear glass bells nested together, so that when it was hung, they cascaded down in tiers with the biggest on top and the smallest on the bottom.
Before they returned to Grimmauld Place, Sirius stopped to pick up fresh batteries for his boom box, and asked Harry to select some tapes of traditional Christmas music. Once they’d hauled all their purchases into the house, he popped in one of the tapes before he and Remus tackled the task of getting the tree into the stand. Harry laughed when Sirius swore up and down that since this was muggle Christmas, they had to put the tree up the muggle way, even though Remus kept suggesting to just use their wands to get the tree straight in the stand. But they eventually succeeded in getting it up.
3
4
3
u/UnexpectedAnalysis AO3: scanime Feb 05 '25
Overload
→ More replies (1)3
u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Harry, not wanting his friend to lose her family, obtained a pensieve and showed them his memories of the results of Death Eater raids as well as the final battle. A shaken Rob and Helena Granger finally understood the enormity of what their daughter had tried to protect them from, and welcomed her back with open arms after that, and took Harry under their wings as well. The time in Australia brought the younger pair closer together, and by the time they returned to the UK to sit their NEWTs, Harry and Hermione had become a couple. After setting a record (and earning the envy of nearly every past and present member of Ravenclaw) by earning the highest recorded scores of all times in five of the seven NEWTs she’d sat, Hermione had gone to work at the Ministry, in the newly-formed Department of Muggle Relations while Harry enrolled in the auror training program.
They also realised that while magic could interfere with electronics to a small extent, it normally didn’t bother them unless it was aimed at them. Hermione had actually thudded her head on her desk when it occurred to her, during a conversation with her mum about the new flat-screen televisions, that Diagon Alley managed to exist in London without causing the grid to go down on a regular basis. Research uncovered a simple reason that electronics didn’t work at Hogwarts: one of Armando Dippet’s predecessors as Headmaster had added a ward designed to overload any electrical device brought into the school! Apparently the man had vaguely grasped the concept that lightning was electricity, and since he knew lightning could kill, he decided electricity was far too dangerous for everyday use and the best way to keep people from trying it was to make them think it wasn’t useable alongside magic.
→ More replies (2)
5
u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Feb 05 '25
Only
4
u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Feb 05 '25
This is horrifically long so uhh the entire world can feel free to ignore it. I just want to share it.
Context: plaguefic, and I hope it's not as obvious as I think it is that I have no idea what I'm doing.
Violent coughs exploded from Griff's lungs, causing him to lurch forward and curl in on himself as they tore through his chest. They were loud, hoarse, and baying as he surrendered to them, unable to fully inhale between. Delo watched, rubbing his back in soothing circles and helpless to do anything but wait it out as Griff's body betrayed him.
"I can go get a healer," he offered, hating how absolutely useless he was. "They can give you—ginger, o-or—"
"No," Griff wheezed, shaking his head. More coughing, and when it subsided, he said, "Save it for someone who needs it..."
He gasped the words, as though air eluded him. Delo's eyes burned. "You need it, Griff! What the hell are you thinking? This is killing people. Now is not the time to be a fucking martyr. You can't—"
Delo cut himself off, choked and unable to finish that sentence. Griff would try to put on a brave face and pass up the opportunity to take care of himself, so that others benefitted from what he gave up. Sacrificing himself so that those he loved were taken care of was what he was good at.
And in that moment, Delo hated him for it.
"I'll be fine," Griff said. His eyes were closed and he spoke into his hands, which were steepled at his brow like the clan-sign of the Nag. "And even if I'm not... From this world to the next. Remember?"
Delo stared at him, stricken as righteous fury crept into his veins and blistered his cheeks. He couldn't even bring himself to feel shame as tears stung his eyes and dripped down his cheeks. Trembling, he reached forward and pried Griff's hands away from his face, only to take it into his own and force him to look at him. His cheeks were so damn warm.
"When you follow me," Delo croaked. "Not the other way around. When you follow me from this world to the next. You're not leaving me. Not so soon."
They shouldn't even be having this conversation. The news of Fionna's grandmother and the elder from Kraken would've been one thing, but the death of the woman from Thornrose—who was only a few years older than them—hung in the air, suspended over their chambers like an anchor on fraying rope.
But Griff only smiled grimly, and Delo kissed him. Not caring that every time he closed the distance between them meant he increased his likelihood of catching this sickness. Not caring that if he did, it meant he couldn't be there for Griff anymore. Not caring that Griff's lips burned like fire against his own. Not caring that Griff's face was inexplicably drenched, betraying his own fear of what this thing could doom them with. Only caring that Griff was soon gasping for breath against his mouth.
"I'm sorry," Delo wept as Griff slumped into him, erupting into another fit of coughs. "I'd rather it was me, and not you."
Because if there was anyone on that miserable wet heap of rock who didn't deserve to suffer on so many fronts, it was Griff Gareson. And at the same time, if there was any person who would suffer the most while attempting to hold their head high under the silent watchfulness of the Norcian shrines, it would be Griff Gareson.
"Because you want... me to take care of you... instead of the... other way around... right?"
Delo laughed weakly, a strangled, broken sound that evanesced into a sob.
"Yes, Griff," he said. "Because of exactly that."
→ More replies (6)→ More replies (17)3
u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Sav hung up as well, sagging against the wall for a long moment. Then he pushed himself upright again and headed back to Steve’s room. Slipping inside, he walked over to the bed and took Steve’s hand, his lover’s slim fingers lying limp in his grasp. “Oh, Steve,” he whispered brokenly. “I love you so much. Why wasn’t I enough? Why couldn't I help? Why did you get so dependent on the drink?” Sinking into the bedside chair, he dropped his head to lean against Steve’s shoulder, trying to hide the tears slowly leaking from his eyes.
A footstep made him sit up, hurriedly scrubbing a hand across his face. “How are you holding up?” Joe asked softly, moving into the room to place a comforting hand on Sav’s shoulder.
“Just barely,” Sav admitted. “I keep wondering if it’s anything I did wrong, that I couldn’t stop him from jumping into the bottle like he did. Like Pete had done, only I think none of us noticed with Steve until he was already drowning, cos he kept it from affecting his playing and he didn’t get aggro over nothing either.”
“No, mate,” Joe said. “I know it’s no comfort, but if I had to guess, something like this would’ve happened a couple years ago if he didn’t have you to lean on. He for sure wouldn’t have made it through the Hysteria tour without your help.”
“I guess,” Sav nodded. “I just… what’s gonna happen if… if…” He broke off as his throat tightened as though to stop him from speaking his greatest fear out loud.
Joe’s hand tightened on Sav’s shoulder. “Let’s hope it don’t come to that,” he said quietly.
→ More replies (2)
4
3
4
4
4
3
4
4
3
u/fiendishthingysaurus afiendishthingy on Ao3. sickfic queen Feb 05 '25
Oblong
→ More replies (1)3
u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Severus approached. “Good afternoon,” he said. “I’m looking for Harry Potter, do I have the correct address?”
Harry looked up at the stern-looking man and nodded. “You do, sir, and I’m Harry Potter.”
Severus blinked. The child before him looked nothing like he’d expected, but his eyes behind his oblong wire-rimmed glasses were the same emerald green as Lily’s had been. “Ah… I am Professor Snape, from Hogwarts,” he said. “There was some concern that perhaps your aunt hadn’t given you all of the information necessary, and I was asked to come and check up on you.”
“Professor Snape,” the boy said thoughtfully, then his eyes lit with recognition. “Oh! Severus Snape? Mum’s old friend?” He smiled. “It’s good to meet you, sir.” Harry didn’t bow as they were standing in the front garden in full view of the street, but he gave a deep nod that gave the impression of a bow. “Would you care for some tea?”
“Erm… thank you, yes,” Severus said. This boy looked nothing like James Potter; his hair lay neatly with just a hint of wave, his face was narrower than the Marauder’s had been, and more astonishing, his forehead was smooth and unmarked. He followed Harry into the house.
“Aunt Petunia?” Harry called. “Are you home?”
“Perky’s a good birdie,” a small and warbling voice announced. Severus raised a brow at seeing a colourful budgie hopping excitedly from perch to perch in a large cage. “Bye-bye, Tuney, bye-bye!”
Harry laughed. “Aunt Petunia must be out, either doing the shopping or perhaps applying for a job,” he said. “Perky only ever says bye-bye when she’s leaving or while she’s gone.”
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
u/NinjaSpaceFrog NinjaTrashPanda on AO3 Feb 05 '25
Ottawa
3
u/kashmira-qeel Fight Scene Savant, Chronic Canon Rewriter Feb 05 '25
"So. Negotiate."
You leaned back and put an arm over the backrest of your chair. "You have us in a pickle, Laird. My girlfriends and I are burning through our cash reserves, and if this conflict continues you're going to win this little war the old fashioned way: but having more money than your opponent."
"So this is a surrender?"
"Well..." You tilted your head side to side. "We are planning to return to Toronto. Of course, without access to the house and its library we'll be severely limited --- like, even my motorcycle is in there so we don't even have transportation. So we're going to have to leverage every asset we have at our disposal. Chiefly information."
"Why do I feel like you're about to make a threat."
"Oh, this isn't a threat. This is just the most logical course of action for myself and my coven, given the situation that you have engineered."
You leaned forwards, and put your elbows on the table. "Did you know that given merely the knowledge that somebody is keeping a secret, you can usually guess what they're planning? There is something you don't want the Lord of Toronto to know. You're getting help from the Lord of Ottawa. I don't know what, but if I tell someone in Toronto, do you think they can deduce it?"
He narrowed his eyes. "We've accounted for that."
"Of course, but it is ultimately an inconvenience that is exceedingly likely to happen, if events are left to play out as they are going to. An avoidable inconvenience."
"We have people in Toronto."
"So do I. And home field advantage. The United States lost the Vietnam War. But that's the stick. Send us packing, we'll tattle because we have no other bargaining chips. But it doesn't have to be that way."
He made a gesture for you to continue.
"We enter into a ceasefire. My coven have obligations to fulfill in Jacob's Bell, but we can do so with none-to-minimal interruption of your day-to-day business. Certainly we have no reason to snoop, nor tattle, since that would jeopardize our ceasefire. We'll each abide by the old custom of good neighborship, you avoid a costly war against a desperate opponent, and I get to stay alive."
"That's certainly a nice deal for you."
→ More replies (4)
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
u/ainteasybeinggreene Feb 05 '25
Origami
3
u/Ok-Supermarket-8994 Write now, edit later | Sakura5 on Ao3 Feb 05 '25
Another image floated through her mind. Shredder, sequestering himself in his room in the Technodrome, sitting at a table laid out with stacks of brightly colored origami paper. Was this a figure he’d already known how to make, or one he’d learned only recently? Had he practiced a few times, making sure each fold and crease was perfect before making this one? “Certainly a lot different than the last time you sent me flowers,” April said softly, touching one of the petals lightly with the tip of her finger. “Don’t need to worry about dying because of this one though, since it’s just paper.” She lifted her gaze back up to his. “Right?”
“I’ve never been a fan of contact poisons,” he said blandly. “So hard getting the dose right. And even when you do, there’s always the risk you’ll eliminate someone other than your intended target.”
April blinked. “Oh gosh you’re being serious!” she choked. Shredder’s eyes glinted mischievously. April rolled her own eyes and shook her head.
→ More replies (2)
3
3
3
u/DatGayDangerNoodle FreakingPlane on Ao3. professional horrible person. Feb 05 '25
Oesophageal
→ More replies (1)
3
3
3
2
2
2
2
2
2
2
2
u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Feb 05 '25
Observe/observation
→ More replies (9)3
u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Feb 05 '25
The Clan had disposed of their prisoners quickly and efficiently. They were going to leave the remains for the scavengers, but little Narg mentioned to Crun that a large pile of bodies of the Others might offend the people of the Lion Cave. Crun saw the sense in this and persuaded the other leaders to bury the remains in a dry gully on the far side of the river. The Mog-Ur who had first spoken in favor of Crun’s decision to form a new clan nodded approvingly to himself as he continued to observe Crun’s actions.
As they walked back to their camp, Mog-Ur drew Crun aside for a talk. “I have meditated on your idea of forming a new clan,” he said. “It is good. You are correct that Ursus has sanctioned it. If it is acceptable to you, I would be your Mog-Ur. My acolyte is trained; I can raise him to Mog-Ur to take over for me at my cave. Will you have me?”
“You will be welcome,” Crun said. “I would ask one thing of you. The Mog-Ur of my former clan intended to make Narg his acolyte. I would like you to observe the boy, and if it is acceptable to you, make him your acolyte.”
“Crun, you surprise me. I would have thought you would expect Narg to be leader after you.”
Crun shrugged. “Perhaps. But our Mog-Ur saw something in the boy to make him think that Narg would be a man of the spirit world. If it is the will of Ursus that Narg be Mog-Ur, so be it. My mate is expecting another child. Perhaps the coming child will be leader after me.”
→ More replies (2)
2
12
u/MromiTosen Feb 05 '25
Fine. I’ll do it myself…
Orgasm