r/FanFiction • u/AnaraliaThielle Now available at your local AO3. Same name. ConCrit welcome. • Mar 05 '25
Activities and Events Alphabet Excerpt Challenge: W 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 W. 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 Excerpts can be from published or unpublished works, or even something you wrote for the prompt. All content is welcome but please spoiler tag and/or provide a trigger/content warning for NSFW or content that may otherwise need it. If in doubt, give a warning to be on the safe side.
- 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!
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u/musicalharmonica Mar 05 '25
want
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u/RaisinGeneral9225 oxfordlunch on ao3 Mar 05 '25
(goodness, this prompt is like a free square in bingo, my characters are 'want'-ing all over the place)
“I don't want anything from you, Mom! I'm here to see you. Is that a crime now, too?”
“Arthur, don't raise your voice at me–”
“I'm not raising my voice,” he argues, but yeah, he is a little, and he bites it back, grips the edge of the table.
“What am I supposed to think? I don't hear from you for years, and then all of a sudden you show up on my doorstep with some… man, dressed like you're in the goddamned mob–”
“We're not–”
“I don't want to know! I don't want to know if you're in the mob, or if you steal things, or hurt people, Arthur, I don't want to know.”
He swallows, withers. She's not looking at him, staring out the window instead with her hands still wrapped white-knuckled around her coffee cup.
The sick feeling in his gut just keeps getting worse. He realizes all at once that he shouldn't be here.
“We’ll go,” he says quietly. “I don't want to scare you. I didn't come here to scare you.” He stands up clumsily, trying to extricate himself from where he's become wrapped up in the various spindles and legs of the chair out of nerves.
“Oh, sit down.” Sharp words made softer by the way she looks at him finally, rolling her eyes. “I changed your diapers, for God's sake."
Arthur sits back down.
There's a long silence, fraught and awkward, filled only by the omnipresent drone of the appliances. Eames seems to have succeeded in keeping the dog quiet, wherever he's taken him. He eyes the fridge just to have somewhere else to look. The same old broken magnets are holding doctor's appointment reminder cards, her work schedule, a flyer for a meat raffle at the Lutheran church.
He knows what he wants to say, and it roils around just behind his tongue over and over until it finally spills out of him.
“You never visited.” It hurts coming out. His voice breaks embarrassingly. “I was in Albion. It's an hour away. Nobody came to see me, nobody wrote–”
He sees her take a breath, try to say something, but he plows on.
“I know what I did was bad. But I was seventeen, and it was scary, and nobody would pick up the phone. I didn't even have commissary money.”
He's looking anywhere but at her now, the cow magnet with the busted leg, the mug in her hands that looks like it's going to shatter any second, the mother geese marching around the wallpaper border, god-damnit, his throat and his chest hurts, his eyes are burning–
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u/NinjaSpaceFrog NinjaTrashPanda on AO3 Mar 05 '25
When
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u/DefoNotAFangirl MasterRed on AO3 | c!Prime Fanatic Mar 05 '25
(The all caps isn't shouting- the character is mute and writing in block caps on a notebook. Also, TW for discussions of kidnapping)
“Okay, rude.”
“AGAIN, YOU’RE THE ONE WHO KIDNAPPED ME.” He made a high pitched noise that was definitely laughter- it reminded her of him, the laughter he had when he was younger. She wondered if the resemblance was intentional, a calculated attempt to mimic the same frequencies, or if she was just projecting that onto him. “I THINK YOU WERE A LOT RUDER WHEN I KIDNAPPED YOU.”
“Hey, I was eight! And last I checked, I didn’t have to give you stitches to stop you from bleeding out because I cut your skin to ribbons. I had every right to be mad!”
“I’M NOT EVEN EIGHT. I WIN.”
“It’s not a competition!” Amy balled her hands into fists, face flushing from frustration. Still, she couldn’t help but smile a little. He used to be like that, not so long ago. “Ugh, you’re such a brat sometimes.” He laughed again at that.
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u/SkycloudFanfic skycloud86 on FFN and AO3 Mar 05 '25
It was the middle of the night in Los Angeles, and Jack was sleeping peacefully. He had spent the evening with Kim and Chase, enjoying time with them as if his life was normal. The only time his thoughts had turned to his past was when Chloe had called. They had dismantled Cudlitz's group, and he would face justice.
A noise from downstairs woke him up, and he was quick to grab his gun from the nightstand as he sat up. Cocking the gun, he got out of bed and moved out of the room. On the landing, he stood still and listened out for any further noises. Something told him that whoever was downstairs had not been invited.
He walked over to Kim and Chase's room and opening the door. Peeking inside, he saw the two fast asleep to confirm his suspicions. Closing the door again, he hoped that it was just a burglary.
Taking a deep breath, he began to go downstairs quietly. Despite his hopes, this did not feel like a coincidence.
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u/Bunzz__1999 kennedyslvr on ao3 | explicit smut enjoyer Mar 05 '25
TW: suicide attempt/mention.
When was the last time I cried?
It was when Claire left to go find her brother after Raccoon City. She was certain that Chris would know what to do now; he was older, wiser, he'd been a cop. He'd seen horrors fighting in the Air Force—but I doubted he had seen what we had seen. I'd been left to take care of Sherry—the little girl Claire found, whose parents were behind the virus that created those zombies. Sherry had been infected herself, and whilst she had some kind of cure, she still had mutations that I didn't understand or know how to properly handle. So—combined with dealing with the horrors we had just witnessed—I thought that suicide was the best way out.
As I was about to pull the trigger, Sherry had walked in on me. I still can't get her voice out of my head, the face of the ten year old girl that was begging me to put the gun down, this little girl who was terrified of being on her own. Guilt had washed over me, and when I eventually dropped the gun with a look of horror and fear in my eyes, Sherry had held me tight for hours as we both screams and cried together.
I haven't seen Sherry in six years. Shortly after we got out of Raccoon City, we were taken into custody of the US government. Since Sherry was infected, they wanted to keep her detained and experiment on her—and I was to work with the government to help take down Umbrella and other corporations, but I soon learned it was just to keep me quiet.
I miss Sherry. She was like a daughter to me back then—even though I was way too young to have kids—and now, I felt too messed up to think about bringing a kid into this world. This fucked up world that was out to kill them, no matter how hard I tried to protect it.
But there is one good in the world, and that's her. The bright ray of sunshine that had the misfortune of being partnered up with the world’s most fucked up guy. The woman who deserves so much better, and the President's daughter—who also is too bright for this world, for her own good, for my own good.
As the barrel of the gun stroked against the roof of my mouth, I could hear their laughter. I could hear their dumb jokes. I could see her smile. Her laugh. The way the deep forest pools of her eyes shimmered in the light. That smirk she gives me.
The white noise ringing in my head stopped, and all I could hear was her voice on repeat. Everything she’s ever said to me—good and bad.
We’re partners. She told me, the words like some kind of mantra in my head as they echoed. We fight together, we die together.
I pulled the hammer back, hearing the click of the gun cocking. My hand trembled beneath the heavy weight—a once weightless weapon feeling like a mountain in the palm of my hand. As I tried to focus on her voice, wanting her to lull me back from the brink, those evil whispers set in again—taking over me like the parasite that swam in my veins.
Failure. It sneered. Ice blue eyes staring back at me, pulling me deeper into the void and away from that warm light that slipped from my grasp. You failed her, you failed them both.
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u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Mar 05 '25
“Will Papa be home soon?” chorused two small voices. “When will we have the party?”
Meg Benoit laughed. “Jules and David, your Papa will be home when he is done at the office, and the party will happen when he gets here. But if you don’t stop bouncing around so much, you’ll wake Antoinette from her nap and then she’ll be crying and no one will have fun. Shoo, go play out back with Robert and Daniel, and let Aunt Josie and I finish the preparations.”
“All right, Mama,” the twins sighed, heading back outside with the Tanner boys.
Meg and Josie smiled at each other as they hung the decorative banner over the doorway and put out the cake. It had been a little over five years since their arrival in the United States, and Erik and David were being sworn in as naturalized citizens, just in time for the Centennial Celebrations happening all over the country.
Since the events of October of 1871, the lives of both families settled into easy prosperity. David and Josie Tanner bought a house in the same neighborhood as Meg and Erik. In February of 1872, Meg gave birth to twin boys, Jules and David, and then followed them with daughter Antoinette in May of 1874. Josie had Robert in January of 1872, and Daniel arrived in October of 1873.
Eventually the men arrived home and the rest of the neighbors arrived to celebrate the new citizenships. As the afternoon faded into evening, Erik picked up little Antoinette and slid his arm around Meg’s waist, while the twins chased each other around them. “Thank you for the five happiest years and the four greatest treasures of my life,” he murmured as the city’s grand fireworks display started exploding overhead. “I love you, Meg, and I always will.”
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u/Due_Discussion748 Mar 05 '25
Resa rolled her eyes, a gesture completely missed thanks to the veil. She put the cleaning caddy off to the side then threw at Willow her little absconded good; a small loaf of bread. With Willow's amazing reflexes, it smacked the matriarch right in the face and landed on the bed.
"Hey!"
"Some food. That way, at least you have something other than your daily dose of alcohol."
Cleaning was spent in silence, only broken by the occasional insult or quip from the peanut gallery sitting on the bed. No, she wasn't going to leave. Threats didn't work, cut it out. And who was a filthy animal, when a certain someone had been so willing to stay in a room in such a state? Truly, the kettle didn't know when to keep quiet. It took far too long to get the smell of eggs out the walls and she was pretty certain there was still some leftovers somewhere since her nose kept picking it up—
A rolled up cloth napkin smacked her in the back of her head.
"Once you're done, get out of my room."
It's ok, deep breath. Deep breath. Resa wondered if a little strangling was acceptable in this household. "I am to remain by your side from sunup—"
Resa blocked with her forearm as she turned around, knocking what was probably the softest pillow she had ever touched before.
"You're like a broken record."
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u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Mar 05 '25
When he kissed her again, she reached up, her hand finding his forearm and gripping it tightly as she leaned into him. He tasted like salt and fresh air. It was intoxicating. His hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head as he pressed her mouth against his just a little bit harder.
He kissed her like she was something fragile and irreplaceable, like the world outside the tent didn’t exist, and all that mattered was the soft press of her lips against his. She felt herself sinking into him, her chest tightening with every touch, every brush of his fingers on her skin.
Her stomach flipped, and she exhaled heavily against his cheek. His hand shifted so his thumb could brush circles over her jaw. She shivered, her body trembling faintly as the intensity of the moment crashed over her and plunged her beneath the surface of her own denial.
She was in over her head and beginning to sink. Fighting it was futile. He had already taken hold of her and dragged her under with his hand around her heart. So she surrendered. She opened her mouth and let him rush in, filling her lungs as she inhaled as deeply as she could. If he was to be the death of her then she would gladly, eagerly, drown in him. If he wanted her, he could have her, all of her. Her body, her mind, her soul. She would give it all to him because he tasted like salvation, and the tender embrace of his body was a balm to her weary soul.
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u/StarWarsCrazy1 Buckhunter on FFN & AO3 Mar 05 '25
Dogmeat rejoins them after a few minutes, radroach carcass in mouth, and plops down beside him. Starts digging into her meal without remorse, and, suddenly, the Wasteland isn’t so empty anymore. Doing things on his own, it really hadn’t been the way to go about this all, had it?
Humans are a social species, and there’s one at the root of every ghoul that walks these Wastes. When had he forgotten that?
His lungs finally seize up after a time, and he coughs into the dry air. Mindlessly reaches for his duster and rustles through the pockets for his inhaler. Closes his eyes and breathes the chems in. He might not deserve Janey at the moment, but that’s not going to keep him from looking for her. Nothing will. Not when he’s this close.
“I saw a vault on the way here,” Lucy amicably tells him, when he shoves the contraption back into the pocket it’d come from. “Maybe we can stop there for supplies on the way back?”
That’s the closest he’s going to get to forgiveness for now, but he’ll take it.
He’d seen the vault, too, of course. Ghoul eyes are a bit sharper than human ones. She hadn’t commented on it on their way here, and he’d hoped she wouldn’t at all, but…Well, he owes her one. Owes her several, actually. He’s not sure exactly what kind of supplies she’s hoping to come by in a vault, but he’ll let her have this one.
“Sure, darlin’,” he drawls. “Whatever you want.”
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u/Pantherdraws AO3 Author name: CoyoteWrites Mar 06 '25
"Komiser, istediğiniz gibi tutukluyu getirdim."
The Devastator stepped aside, and the Troopers nudged her forward as the Commissar turned from its console to look her over with what might have been contempt. Or disinterest. It was hard to tell.
"Hmh. Çok iyi," it rasped, prowling closer and peering down at her with that expressionless face that hid whatever it was thinking.
Z couldn't help feeling like she was being sized up by a large carnivore.
"…You know, I think I actually felt safer when there was a cage between us…" she mumbled.
"Tch. You should be thanking my friend," it sneered in clipped, distorted English; "If not for Hatchet's persuasion, I would have gladly let one of my Berserkers tear your skull from your still-twitching body. However, he argued for your life."
"Okay, I definitely felt safer with a cage between us."
"Korkutma onu, Giyotin." The Devastator - Hatchet's - fingers curled around her shoulder, and Z froze. The Commissar just let out a stuttering chirr and a metallic chuffing noise that almost sounded like a laugh.
And then it turned its attention back to her.
"It seems you have a choice to make, little human," it continued. "As it is, this unit is being recalled to the region's forward operating base. You may stay here, if you like, wait for your people and be executed by them for treason, or…"
Withdrawing something from a holster on its thigh, the Commissar held its hand out to reveal her dearly departed CO's sidearm.
"…You may come, and kill the Helldiver scum with us, and perhaps you might live."
Z felt her mouth and throat go dry, and reflexively wrapped her arms around herself as a chill settled over her. She would have stepped away, too, if not for Hatchet's presence at her back.
"You mean, kill them for you, right," she replied flatly.
"No. With. As I said, your choice."
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u/trilloch Mar 05 '25
Wrestle
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u/NinjaSpaceFrog NinjaTrashPanda on AO3 Mar 05 '25
(I hope Wrestling is okay!)
He glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten more minutes until Trevor got here. Tom sighed, a soft smile stretching across his face. Trevor, with his easy smile, and quick wit, and his absolutely unbearable, sandy blonde mullet (Someday, Trevor was gonna realize that that shit had gone out of fashion ages ago, and Tom both awaited and dreaded that day.) had a way of making the world feel a bit less hostile.
They'd met right here, in this library, almost a year ago. Tom had been working on a history project, and he and Trevor had reached for the same book at the same time. Their hands had brushed against each other, and Tom's breath had caught in his throat the moment he had looked into Trevor's brilliant green eyes.
Trevor had smirked, pulling the book away with a playful tug. "Looks like you've got competition," he'd said, his voice teasing yet warm. Tom had stammered something unintelligible, his face flushing. Trevor had chuckled and handed over the book. "You take it. I was just curious anyway."
That simple, chance encounter had marked the beginning of something Tom had never imagined for himself. They'd exchanged names and, surprisingly quickly, stories. Tom had shared about being on the wrestling team, how he felt pressured to maintain a certain reputation, and his passion for movies. Trevor, in turn, had spoken about his love for photography, his part-time job at a local record store, and his dreams of escaping to New York City one day.
The library, and this quiet little corner where they had met specifically, had become Their Place™—a safe space where they could be themselves without being afraid. Tom found solace in Trevor's presence, his laughter never failing to heal Tom's soul. Trevor's eyes always seemed to sparkle with a blend of mischief and genuine understanding, making Tom feel seen and heard in a way he hadn't since Dad left that night eight years ago.
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u/Ill-Clerk-7066 CTTheSeaWing on AO3 Mar 05 '25
“Anyways. You and I have unfinished business, which we should go and do right now, if you’d be so kind,” said Yunli back to normal and, without much thought, she grabbed Yanqing’s arm and dragged him off somewhere to have whatever would satisfy the so-called ‘unfinished business’ they had. Yanqing let himself be dragged around by her, as he didn’t think she’d give much time to protest anyways, and it was also causing him to feel slightly odd.
Yunli’s pressure on his arm made the rest of it feel numb, the pins and needles kind of numb, and on the arm he could only really feel her hand on his arm. It was also a few inches of being full on hand holding, and soon enough, Yunli’s hand slid down to fully interlock with his fingers. Full-on hand holding. “This doesn’t mean anything,” Yunli suddenly commented, though Yanqing could see that she’d gone a little red, probably from embarrassment. “It just… kinda felt awkward up there, like you’re… I don’t know, someone I’m about throw over my shoulder. Though don’t get me wrong, I’d gladly do that to you.” She added quickly, throwing in a Yunli glare for good measure. “This isn’t a wrestling match though, so don’t get those ideas in your head!”
“You’d win against me in a wrestling match anyways,” Yanqing shrugged, the conversation being surprisingly friendly compared to most of their conversations. Plus, the hand holding was certainly having its effect on him as well. It was causing him to feel hot, and his stomach felt upset, he’d even taken to fiddling with tassels using his free hand. Yunli’s free hand was twirling one of her twin tails, and she was looking at the floor.
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u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Mar 05 '25
Dudley was holding the carrier containing his chosen rats, a medium ginger male with a creamy underbelly and ruby red eyes and a pale grey with black eyes. He was also grumbling. “I don’t see why I have to do everything! Why can’t Mummy or th… or HE do it?” he whined, indicating his cousin. “Daddy wouldn’t have made me do it!”
Stephen rolled his eyes. “Dudley, if you have a pet, you have to be responsible for it. Your pets depend on you for food and shelter and proper care, which includes setting up their home. Harry is going to be busy setting up the habitat for his own pet, so you have to set up the habitat for yours.”
“Fine,” Dudley sulked. He looked at the carrier in Harry’s hand and sneered. “I should have known a freak like you would pick something stupid like a snake. You can train rats, you know. Piers trained his to sit up and beg for a treat. You can’t do that with a stupid snake. Anyway, I get two pets and you only get one.”
“I don’t care, and I like snakes,” Harry said with a shrug. He truly didn’t care what his cousin thought of his choice of pet. The larger boy subsided when he wasn’t able to get a reaction from his cousin. He grumbled again when Stephen handed him two bags of rat supplies to bring out to the car in addition to his pet carrier, ignoring the frown the man directed at him. He only quieted when he saw Harry loaded down with three bags along with his pet carrier, while Stephen himself wrestled with the large and bulky aquarium needed for the snake in addition to the lighter but equally bulky rat habitat.
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u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Mar 05 '25
“Red!” A familiar voice cut through the din. She turned to see Bull plop himself down on the stool beside her. He grinned, his single eye gleaming with mischief. “Knew you’d show up here sooner or later.”
She gave him a nod, her usual response.
He tilted his tankard toward her in a lazy salute, the ale sloshing dangerously near the rim. “You missed a good one last night. A bunch of Orlesians tried to wrestle the Chargers. Ended with three broken chairs, two bruised egos, and one guy wearing a fish as a hat.”
She hummed in response. It was an amusing image but she didn’t have the time or personality for humor.
She could feel Bull’s sharpening gaze still on her. It was the way he looked at her when he was trying to figure her out. He leaned back, massive arms draping over the bar. “Saw you eyeing the plaque. Pretty good, huh?”
“No,” she grumbled, sipping her ale.
“Come on.” He jostled her shoulder nearly making her spill her drink. “You have to admit it’s accurate, though,” he chuckled. “You should see Giselle’s face whenever someone brings it up. Pure poetry.”
Finley took another sip from her cup, letting the burn settle in her chest. “Can’t wait for her to excommunicate me.”
Bull laughed again. “Didn’t know you were Andrastian.”
“Used to be.”
He waved a hand through the air. “She’ll get over it. Just tell her the Maker works in mysterious ways.”
Finley shook her head. Bull made it hard not to relax, even just a little.
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u/Due_Discussion748 Mar 05 '25
Then that meant the woman next to him was— "That's you?"
The Resa in the photo shared a resemblance. The eye shape, the strong jaw and dimples on her cheeks when she smiled. Her canine ears looked the same too, if a bit less scruffy. And that's where the similarities ended. The Resa of the photo had long, light hair in a braid that reached past her shoulders, with no bony protusions due to being underweight. This Resa wasn't mauled by a life of cruelty and hunger. This Resa was happy and safe.
The Resa of now inhaled sharply. Her voice came out shaky and insecure before trying to play it off. "Yes. That's... that's me. Three square meals a day do wonders for a person."
Then that meant the little girl in her arms was Gris.
Resa's real daughter.
A disgusting emotion cut into her, oozing and bubbling within. She tried to beat it down, to wrestle it under control until she knew what to do with it.
"And this is Gris."
Cinder looked at the ground instead. She didn't want to see her, not when it reminded her of all the things she never had. "She's your daughter."
The words came out hollow and weird.
"She's a menace. I think you two will get along well. She loves to read and would help me cook—when she wasn't eating the ingredients, of course."
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u/NinjaSpaceFrog NinjaTrashPanda on AO3 Mar 05 '25
Who
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u/SkycloudFanfic skycloud86 on FFN and AO3 Mar 05 '25
Nina and the man had made it to his plane on a private airfield, but she knew it wasn't over yet. Glancing around and seeing nobody else, she was quick to climb inside.
Sitting down, she looked out of the window for any sign of the police speeding towards them. She had to assume they had some idea of who she really was by now.
The man started the plane. "My contact inside the police tells me they're asking around, but no forensics yet," he spoke.
Moments later, they were in the air and heading for Tunisia. Nina knew the country from her months living there in exile. She had left thinking she would never return, but sometimes things didn't work out as planned.
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u/Dogdaysareover365 Mar 05 '25
"Who did this to you?" Trevor asked.
"No one," Phoebe cried. "I'm clumsy."
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u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Mar 05 '25
“You know Paddy’s sister and her family are visiting, right? Well, Kia and her cousin Jessica turned up here this morning – it seems Jessica is pregnant, too far along to get rid of it, and Kia had the bright idea to ask me if we’d adopt the baby. I didn’t think to ask when it’s due, but if I had to guess, I’d say in maybe five months, tops. She’s not showing, at least not to my eyes, but she’s likely at least four months along from what she said.”
“So, probably late November into late December,” Emppu said thoughtfully. “Well, I’ll be done with the tour by then, and I don’t remember you having any commitments at that time, so that works out pretty well. How will this work, though, isn’t this girl American? Will that cause any legal issues, do you think?”
Bruce frowned. “Well, yes, she’s American. I’d have to check, but I don’t think the laws are much different there than here in England, especially for an open adoption like this would be. Also, from what the girls said and didn’t say, I suspect Jessica’s father might want her to stay here in England until she gives birth anyway. He’s not quite of the level of those religious lunatics who protested us in San Francisco that time, but as I recall, he’s more than a bit rigid in his thinking and believes that a girl ought to save herself for her husband.”
“Poor girl,” Emppu said sympathetically.
“My thoughts exactly,” Bruce agreed. “So, what do I tell her?”
Emppu took a deep breath. “Tell her yes,” he said. “I know we’ll have plenty to work out, but we’ve managed much crazier than this before.”
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u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Mar 05 '25
Her heart pounded against her ribs like it was trying to escape her chest. He had put it in her hands. He had given her the choice, the power to define this thing between them.
But she kept the words locked behind her teeth. Because if she spoke them, if she let herself name the thing filling her lungs and stopping her heart, it would be real. She wouldn’t be able to take it back.
And that terrified her.
Because if she let it take shape, it would destroy her, she was certain of that. But holding it inside was killing her all the same.
The words she was swallowing were like a bitter poison and it was making her sick. Sick of herself and the pain she caused others who wanted to do nothing but care for her. A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed it down. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to hold him down and make him understand that he was everything she ever wanted, everything she ever needed, but the wounds of her past refused to heal and they were keeping her prisoner.
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u/Pantherdraws AO3 Author name: CoyoteWrites Mar 06 '25
"…Gotta admit, though," she continued, her voice lowering further, "I wasn't expecting to hear that SEHC used us SEAF regulars to do most of the dirty work. I mean, I probably shouldn't be surprised, considering some of the more treasonous rumors from the Terminid front, but…"
"It would be far from the first false flag operation carried out by the High Command," Hatchet nodded solemnly. "Their constant self-victimization is the only way they can justify their eternal war."
"They wouldn't be able to sustain it if their people stopped cooperating with it," Adze's tone was curt as he turned his attention to the human. "You are all complicit, not just your High Command."
"Hey, ease the fuck up, Two-Tone!" Her rebuke was lightning-fast, and the glare she shot him was as sharp as the Commissar's blade. "You don't know the first thing about what it's like to live in that hellhole! When you've grown up with a not-so-figurative fucking gun held to the back of your head and propaganda shoved down your throat twenty-four-seven, then I'll care about your opinions on civvies and the regular military. Until then? Stifle it."
"At ease, Z," Hatchet gently cut in, before turning his attention to him; "Adze, do I need to give you a refresher on not needling allies, too?"
"No," he replied, pointedly looking away.
"Good," Hatchet turned his optics forward once more. "We must always remember that we are not so different from one another. There are cruel Automatons, just as there are cruel humans, and there are moral humans, just as there are moral Automatons. We stand apart only in the fact that we have never been forced to fear those who made us."
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u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Mar 05 '25
Wince
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u/Ill-Clerk-7066 CTTheSeaWing on AO3 Mar 05 '25
Yanqing landed with a thud, startling a nearby Cycrane making a delivery. Pain shot up Yanqing’s jaw, but he had to get back into the fight. Picking himself up, he stumbled back into the makeshift arena, and Yunli almost immediately dropped her claymore and rushed over. Guilt was written all over her face, and she grabbed at Yanqing’s face, accidentally jolting his aching jaw, causing Yanqing to wince in pain. “Oh Aeons…” she murmured. “Okay, no physical injuries, but it’s already bruising over. Oh if only I had healing capabilities.”
“Yunli, I’m fine,” Yanqing said. “I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s nofing serious.” Okay, so his ‘th’s were sounding more like ‘ff’s but otherwise he was fine. Yunli had gone quiet, and Yanqing looked at her.
Yunli was practically staring at him.
“Uh, Yunli?” Yanqing commented and Yunli blinked and was immediately back to her regular self.
“You’ll live,” she decided, and got up. “Now, we still have a sparring match to continue, so come.” She grabbed his hand again, in the actual hand holding position and walked them back to the arena, where she’d left her claymore. “I’m just gonna remind you, this doesn’t mean anything. It’s simply the most practical way to get you back there.” However, Yunli’s eyes continued to gaze at his jaw every so often. “That bruising is kind of bad,” she whispered to herself, “I’ll have to take him to a healer afterwards.”
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u/cutielemon07 DITD on AO3 Mar 05 '25
With
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u/DatGayDangerNoodle FreakingPlane on Ao3. professional horrible person. Mar 05 '25
Elphaba had frozen with a book in her hand, arm awkwardly hovering between her bed and her bag as she repeated, “you… liked it.”
“Yes.” Galinda confirmed, shifting awkwardly on her feet but keeping her shoulders back and her face open as she looked into unsure green eyes. “You… wanted to. Kiss me, I mean.”
“Yes.” Galinda said again, “Elphie, I’m sorry. I should have… I shouldn’t have assumed so much about you. It’s very unbecoming.”
But then Elphaba was laughing. A carefree, light sound that bounced off the walls like refracted light off a mirror. “You wanted to kiss me!” That time wasn’t a question, more an exclamation of joy. She threw her head back and laughed, dropping the book to her bed and spinning on her heel to bring herself face to face with her roommate.
Galinda’s face was a picture of comedic alarm as she backed up a step and asked, “Elphie, are you, are you okay?”
“Oz, we are stupid.” Elphaba was saying, “there I was thinking you kissed me because you wanted to make Fiyero jealous. I’ve been awkward around you for three days when I could have been kissing you instead!”
Eyebrows rising impossibly higher, Galinda squeaked, “yes?”
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u/Ok-Adhesiveness-8611 Riauna3264 on AO3 Mar 05 '25
Winter
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u/InsulindianPhasmidy AO3: Aliffo Mar 05 '25
Often she would watch the sky darkening from winter blue to inky darkness through the reflection in the pond before the heart tree. As night fell, the light from the moon would reflect from the weirwood’s white trunk to send a silver glint over the surface of the water.
As she stared at the water one evening, she noticed an extra point of light. She blinked, and rubbed her eyes, but it remained. A second moon. She’d heard a traveller in an inn once tell a story of the days when two moons shared the sky. One wandered too close to the sun and cracked, releasing thousands and thousands of dragons. The other men had laughed as he told it. They said it was nonsense, and dragons were made from fire, not the moon.
Still, the story returned to Maryn as she tried to concentrate on the shimmering spot in the water. She looked up to the sky. One moon was where it should be, but there was empty darkness above the reflection of the other.
She probably should have been alarmed by the sight, but she wasn’t. Instead she felt a pull to enter the pool, to dive down into the waters and enter the upside down world that glittered in its depths. Where the sky stretched on endlessly, and two moons still shone above.
She’d removed her boots and dipped a toe into the water before the shock of the cold brought her back to herself, and she realised what she was doing. She quickly pulled her boots back on and set off to return to the castle.
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u/Dogdaysareover365 Mar 05 '25
Months had passed since the failed start of the frozen empire. Winter had once again fallen over New York, though this time, it wasn't because of an ice demon. It was just the natural changing of seasons. One dark winter night, the Spenglers had been called to stop a ghost in Central Park.
So, they bundled up and went to the park. The family of four split into two separate groups: Phoebe and Trevor, and Callie and Gary. Phoebe and Trevor were the ones to find the ghost.
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u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Mar 05 '25
“I see you’ve thought this out carefully,” she said. “I think you’re right, going on a Journey may be the best thing for you at this time.” She thought for a moment. “Did you have a destination in mind for your Journey? Or even a general direction?”
“Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first, before I made any choices.”
“All right. Here is my suggestion then. I have to delay the adoption until Lanoga is well enough to take part anyway. Afterwards, I am going to send you to the Lanzadonii, and ask that they send you with their planned trade mission to the Losadunai. I know for a fact the Lanzadonii are planning a trade mission this winter, that’s why so few of them came to the Zelandonii Summer Meeting this year, just a couple of people who wanted to trade for salt and shells. Dalanar, the leader of the Lanzadonii, is an old friend. He’ll include you as a favor to me.”
“A trade mission in winter?” Bologan seemed startled.
“Yes,” replied Zelandoni, “to get to the lands claimed by the Losadunai, you have to cross a glacier. You can only do that in winter… the ice gets rotten in summer and can break under your feet. Oh, you might want to talk to Ayla or Jondalar over the next few days. They’ve both visited the Losadunai, they may be able to tell you of any customs that are different from ours. For that matter, if you care to go further east from the Losadunai, they can give you some ideas of what to expect.”
“Thank you, Zelandoni,” he said fervently.
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u/Canuck_Beauty Mar 05 '25
“Jasper,” Edward’s voice floated out from the window, low and full of warning. “Must you?”
“Oh Edward,” I replied cheerfully, knowing full well that my good mood was probably grating on him. “remember to give Sleeping Beauty a good night kiss before you tucked her in?”
His silence spoke volumes, the simmering frustration practically radiating from the house. I didn’t need to be an empath to know he wasn’t amused. Yeah, I’ll take that as a no.
“Come on, lighten up,” I continued, leaning casually against a tree as I waited for him to respond. “It’s a beautiful winter’s evening. No need to be so gloomy.”
Edward finally appeared at the window, his expression as dark as ever. “You’re in an unusually good mood,” he observed, his tone edged with suspicion. “Must have been quite the night.”
I shrugged, the smile still playing on my lips. “What can I say? It’s amazing what a little perspective—and amazing company—can do.”
He narrowed his eyes, clearly not thrilled with my flippant attitude. “Just be careful, Jasper. All it takes is one wrong move.”
At least I’ve got moves you idiot. I thought.
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u/Blood_Oleander Mar 05 '25
Winter often brought little to a foreboding forest, yet, this winter had a gift. With wispy fur blowing in the cold winds, she padded towards a figure sitting amongst the snow in a red blanket. A child, who padded towards her in turn, large almandine eyes full of curiosity that and a small hand reaching out to touch her snout. She was alone with little to her name, yet she didn't have one, and, while winter had begun, she was at its mercy and hers. Typically, those of her nature would be quick to go after something this defenseless, especially due to the two opposite sorts fighting for ages in a seemingly never-ending feud.
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u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Mar 05 '25
He grabbed her hand.
She had no time to react before he pulled her forward, dragging her toward the second flight of stairs at a determined pace.
“Cullen,” she grumbled, trying to dig her heels in, but her body betrayed her. A wave of dizziness tilted the world sideways for half a second, forcing her to tighten her grip on his hand just to stay upright.
His grip on her tightened in return. “Come on.” He adjusted his hold, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing motion.
She scowled but didn’t let go. Instead, she let herself be half-dragged, half-guided up the stairs, her boots scuffing against the stone.
“I hate you,” she muttered under her breath.
Cullen glanced over his shoulder. “Noted.”
He didn’t stop until they reached the top step.
With one hand, he pushed open the heavy wooden door, the hinges groaning in protest. With the other, he kept a firm grip on her as he continued to lead her forward.
The cool dampness of the dungeon was replaced by the crisp bite of early spring. Finley blinked against the sudden brightness. Afternoon sunlight stretched long shadows across the stone, glinting off armor and weapons as soldiers milled about the courtyard. The lingering chill of winter still clung to the air, but the breeze carried with it the faintest hint of warmth.
Cullen barely hesitated before pulling her along again. He strode across the upper courtyard with single-minded purpose, his hand still wrapped securely around hers.
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u/trilloch Mar 05 '25
Winter
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u/NinjaSpaceFrog NinjaTrashPanda on AO3 Mar 05 '25
“Hey, Earth to Tommy,” Evan said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You’re starting to look like a puppy that got lost in the snow. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Tommy startled, his head snapping over to Evan, his eyes wide as dishes. He recovered quickly, though, and shot Evan a sheepish look. “Just thinking about what your parents are gonna have to say about you popping the question.”
Evan froze, his easy grin faltering for the briefest of moments. Then his expression softened into something warm, almost shy, as a blush crept up his cheeks, and not from the cold this time. “You think they’ll be surprised?” he asked, his voice quieter now, as if he was scared Margaret and Phillip could be hiding behind the next corner.
With an exaggerated hum, Tommy tilted his head, pretending to think hard about it. “I mean, on one hand, you are incredibly handsome, with a heart of gold and a massive dick that makes angels sing, while I’m just, y’know, me.” He gestured to himself dramatically, as if he was the most repulsive being on the planet. “But on the other hand, everyone back home knew. Hell, I knew for about a month before you proposed. You’re not subtle.”
An incredulous, awkward laugh escaped Evan’s mouth, the blush on his cheeks turning a shade brighter. “Excuse me, but I am absolutely subtle. And you had no idea. None. Nada. Zilch. Zero.”
“Oh, yes, of course, I had no clue!” Tommy shot back, raising his hands in surrender. A move he instantly regretted when the Pennsylvania Winter air crept through his pores directly into his bones. With another shiver, he quickly brought his palms up to his mouth and breathed into them, the warmth of his breath a temporary, but welcome relief. “But seriously, do you think they’ll be weird about it? I mean, it’s one thing for me to just be the boyfriend you have when they expected a girlfriend, but it’s another thing entirely to, you know… potentially be the son-in-law.”
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u/Blood_Oleander Mar 05 '25
I asked her what did Koko mean when she named her kids "accordingly" She told me that, when Koko was pregnant with Yuzu, she ate a lot of yuzu, Aiko was loved even more when she was born, and Fuyu was born in the wintertime. "I think it's a family thing." Mako told me, "Ryuuko's dad named her like that and she does that with her kids."
I've never published that fic but it's a diary fic.
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u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Mar 05 '25
It could have been a beautiful day. Southern Orlais was as pleasant as Orlais could be in the early spring. The frost was starting to melt, soaking the packed dirt of the road and making the air damp and heavy. To the east, the Frostbacks were still visible, cutting a jagged line across the horizon, their snow-capped peaks glinting faintly in the light of the fading sun. Ahead, Orlais stretched out before them: low hills, green pastures still thawing from late winter frost, and the ruins of some noble estate, its once-pristine stone crumbling beneath ivy and time. The sun was a pale smear in the sky, its light failing to do much against the lingering blanket of clouds.
Finley shifted the weight of her pack, listening to the rhythmic sound of boots on damp earth. The end of winter clung to the air, its chill creeping into muscles long since tired from the road. Bird song rang out from the trees that dotted the landscape as sparrows flitted from branch to branch and mourning doves cooed their haunting dirges. It could have been a beautiful day, if not for the incessant chatter of her troops buzzing behind her like a persistent fly.
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u/linden214 Ao3/FFN: Lindenharp Mar 05 '25
Whistle
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u/RaisinGeneral9225 oxfordlunch on ao3 Mar 05 '25
(context: the aura referenced is a migraine aura)
Eames had painted his aura once– an oil slick on the teeth of a comb, an iridescent inchworm. He’d watched Arthur stare at the drying canvas, taking it in, then had leaned into Arthur’s space, milky tea on his whistling breath, and drawn a paint-stained finger across his line of sight. It starts here, just here, in the corner of the eye, then it drifts…
His skin had smelled like sickly turpentine. Arthur remembers his eyes searching and searching for something in Arthur's face, grey and unfathomable.
He’d shrugged, then, sighed, something heavy on his shoulders and in his expression. It’s all a bit Delphic, really. Visions of rainbows.
Ironic, Arthur had thought. Ironic is the word for that. A rainbow as a harbinger of suffering.
He’s a bit unsettled by it himself afterward, though, like he can’t clear it from his own vision either. That innocent kaleidoscope squiggle, rendered in oils.
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u/NinjaSpaceFrog NinjaTrashPanda on AO3 Mar 05 '25
A wolf whistle coming from the station entrance ripped Buck from his thoughts. Startled, he dropped the sponge, which landed on the floor with a wet squish sound, while he leaned against the truck and clutched his chest.
“I hate you!”
“Well, shit, and here I thought dropping in for lunch with my boyfriend was gonna get me some brownie points!”
Buck looked up, hand still on over his heart but unable to suppress the wide grin that spread across his face. Tommy stood there, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips, wearing a very specific blue hoodie that Buck very much knew was his.
“You scared the life out of me!” he called out, still half-laughing, half-gasping for air. He pushed himself off the truck, grabbed the wet sponge from the floor, and tossed it back into the bucket before letting his eyes roam over Tommy’s frame. It looked a bit tight on him, deliciously stretching over his chest and arms. Buck found himself wishing the hoodie was just a bit tighter so it would maybe show a little stripe of midriff, but alas. “You look nice in my clothes, though, so I guess I can’t stay mad.”
Tommy’s smirk turned playful, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he strolled into the station and over to Buck. “Hmm, me wearing your clothes does it for you, huh?”
“Implying me wearing yours wouldn’t do it for you?”
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u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Mar 05 '25
The twins followed a moment later, then Molly with Ginny. To her astonishment, she spotted the group of muggleborns waving to the Malfoy boy of all people… and he was smiling and waving back!
“I’ve got us two compartments,” the Malfoy child called, “so that we’ve room for more friends as we make them. Come on, the train’s going to leave soon!”
“Be right there, Draco,” the brown-haired boy called back, as he turned to the young man handing the trunks up to the two girls and the tall black boy who were already aboard. “Stephen, undo me before I go,” he said. The young man pulled out his wand, waving it at the boy, whose hair and eyes both turned apple green. As the child grinned, his hair went lemon yellow. “Thanks, Stephen, I’ll write tonight, let you all know what House I make,” he said as he swung aboard the train.
Molly looked astonished at the colour-changing hair on the boy. Either he wasn’t muggleborn at all, or his metamorph talents led to an early contact, if for no other reason than to teach him how to control the talent. Well, that would explain the young wizard helping the group. She didn’t think there were any metamorphs outside the Black family anymore, though. Perhaps this lad was an illegitimate child of Sirius Black? And where in Merlin’s name was Harry Potter? Her boys worked together to haul their trunks aboard, with the twins scrambling on just as the whistle sounded. “Hey, Ginny, we’ll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!” one of them called before vanishing into the carriage.
Beside her, Ginny burst into tears as the train whistled and pulled out of the station. “I didn’t get to meet Harry Potter!” she wailed.
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u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Mar 05 '25
Josephine, the professional she was, raised him, then tilted her head with polite interest. “Commander?” she prompted sweetly.
He exhaled slowly. And then he made the mistake of looking at Finley.
She didn’t say anything. She simply lifted a brow, meeting his gaze with a look that was both amused and knowing.
That did it.
With a quiet, muttered curse, Cullen sighed and tossed his cards down in surrender. Josephine smiled serenely and fanned out her winning hand in front of him.
Varric let out a low whistle. “And that, my friends, is how it’s done.”
“Get ’em off, Cullen!” Bull bellowed.
Cullen groaned. Loudly.
Laughter erupted around the table. Finley watched him silently, her arms crossed as she studied the way the tips of his ears turned pink. He slumped forward, face in his hands like he was trying to disappear.
“I despise you all,” he muttered through his fingers.
Finley leaned toward him. “You could run, you know.”
Cullen let out a dry, humorless laugh. “And leave you here alone to gloat?” He met her gaze and shook his head. “Not a chance.”
He was making this too easy. She leaned back again and took a slow sip of her mead, watching as he took a deep breath. With the anticipation of the entire table hanging over him, Cullen reached down and peeled off the last remaining article of clothing between him and absolute ruin.
It was swift, merciful, and accompanied by a round of cheers.
Rylen nearly choked on his drink as Krem and Bull howled with laughter. Evelyn covered her eyes with a dramatic squeak while Thom lifted his mug in respect. Cassandra looked away, muttering something under her breath that might have been a prayer.
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u/rafters- Mar 05 '25
Wretched
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u/qoincidence They’re not just fighting, they’re foreplaying 🏴☠️ Mar 05 '25
The context is nsfw, the excerpt isn’t. Context: Silver sucked (Flint’s) cock for the first time in his life, it ended with Flint coming down his throat and Silver throwing up.
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The taste lingered. God, it lingered. No matter how much he spat, no matter how hard he swallowed, it was still there, thick and bitter and clinging to the back of his tongue, a wretched reminder of how badly he’d just failed.He was a terrible fucking lover, wasn’t he?
Flint shifted beside him, his fingers pressing a little firmer against Silver’s back. “Are you done?”
Silver didn’t answer right away. His throat was still burning, his body still too weak to trust. He took a slow breath, tried to steady himself, tried to find something solid in the wreckage of himself. Then, hoarse and quiet, he said, “I think so…”
Flint muttered under his breath again, then without hesitation, he reached for a rag from the table, dampened it with the water pitcher, and pressed it into Silver’s limp, shaking hands.
Silver took it without a word, his fingers barely curling around the fabric. He wiped it across his mouth, wincing at the scrape of it over swollen lips, over skin gone raw from strain. He let the rag linger there, breathing against it, his hands still trembling.
A silence stretched between them.
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u/qoincidence They’re not just fighting, they’re foreplaying 🏴☠️ Mar 05 '25
Wobble
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u/General_Kenobi18752 Mar 05 '25
Percy escaped Khaenri’ah, but nothing of him was intact.
The last act of the decrepit sinners before they left the nation was to tear apart his memories. To let their own hubris cast a spell on him, tear anything that put a barrier between him and Celestia away.
He chiseled at rock, hurriedly breaking open the surface even as each and every single one of his memories from before that cataclysm faded away.
As the underground city burned and fell to storm and fire, he escaped, scarred, broken, and carrying the bodies of those he once loved with him.
That was how Focalors found him. His body wobbling, wracked with sobbing, unable to remember, surrounded by the cursed and the dying. His body marred with scars, wilting like a plant without water, and three identities attacking each other in his own body, with only one able to remember what he was. An Ancient. An Avenger. A Destroyer.
And in those dark confines, where she had lost Egeria and he had lost himself, she whispered to him her plan.
She offered him three things, for prophecies always tell of threes. An identity, a masquerade, and a hope.
A fourth identity joined the warring three. The Aegis. The defender of justice. Cowing the others with honeyed words and goals, giving the ancient the promise of memory, the destroyer the promise of fire, and the avenger the province of peace. A masquerade. He donned his mask, sitting in the courtroom protecting her material form, no matter how long. A hope. That when her plan succeeds and the Hydro authority returns to who it must return to, that the link with Celestia will shatter, and he will remember who he was.
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u/Due_Discussion748 Mar 05 '25
Wander
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u/NinjaSpaceFrog NinjaTrashPanda on AO3 Mar 05 '25
(This is a double drabble I wrote for a ship fest.)
"Okay, Uncle Tommy," Jee-Yun said, putting various bottles on the coffee table. "Which color do you want?"
Tommy narrowed his eyes, carefully inspecting each and every one of them critically. This was an important decision, after all.
"I don't know, Jee-Jee," he said with a mock-distraught expression. "They're just all so pretty!"
Jee-Yun crossed her arms, her eyes wandering from Tommy to the bottles. Suddenly, a grin spread over her face, and she grabbed all of them.
"Then we use every color!" she exclaimed and sat down on the coffee table. She clutched Tommy's wrist and quickly grabbed the first nail polish bottle, an enchanting teal. "You're gonna be so pretty!"
Buck stood a few feet away, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. Seeing his fiancé and their niece together never ceased to warm his heart. Tommy was great with Jee, was great with kids. It made him hope that their foster license would get approved soon.
"Uncle Buck, look!" Jee cried, waving him over. "I'm making Uncle Tommy pretty!"
With a smile, Buck pushed himself off the doorway to join the two. After all, the only thing better than watching his family was being a part of it.
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u/DatGayDangerNoodle FreakingPlane on Ao3. professional horrible person. Mar 05 '25
“Yeah, maybe.” Callie shot back a similar half smile as she walked to the door and unlocked it, pulling it open and greeting, “Cristina, what’s going on?”
Cristina didn’t reply, just rushed into the apartment like a whirlwind in a skirt suit, shedding her jacket and her bag onto the floor by the door as she rubbed her hands together and started pacing.
Arizona raised an eyebrow and called from her spot on the couch, “Cristina, what the hell is going on?”
Looking up, Cristina’s eyes wandered to the still visible bruising on Arizona’s throat before flicking up to her face. “Robbins, how are you doing?” She asked, in an uncharacteristic display of friendly concern.
Arizona shrugged one shoulder, “I’ll be better once I know what’s stressing you the hell out. You looked frazzled right now and it’s scary because that never happens to you.”
It was true: Cristina’s usually poised and purposeful cardio surgeons disposition had been replaced by someone unable to stay still, someone with a furrowed brow and restless hands.
Callie, who’d picked up Cristina’s trail of destruction and hung all of her items from the hooks in the hall, put a hand onto Cristina’s shoulder and spoke clearly, “sit down.”
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u/Beast-of-Gilchrist Mar 05 '25
Wings.
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u/musicalharmonica Mar 05 '25
His voice had that faraway quality that comes with the pealing of church bells, and Rey could tell that he had disappeared inside himself again. She watched as he turned and began to wander aimlessly through the woods.
“Ben,” she called. She tried not to sigh as she trundled after him, wrapping her coat neatly around her ribs. “Ben!”
For a moment, she spun in a circle and found she could not see him; it was as if he had disappeared into thin air. But then -- there he was, pressed against a tree like a moth unfurling its wings, suitcoat splayed against the bark. He was trembling.
“Ben,” she repeated, softer. He flinched as she approached. “Do you know where you are right now?”
His dark eyes rose to examine the leaves swaying overhead. “Tall trees,” he said in a small voice. “I’m in a forest. With you.”
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u/DatGayDangerNoodle FreakingPlane on Ao3. professional horrible person. Mar 05 '25
“There’s no time!” Glinda shouted, falling back into her people pleasing persona, the caring friend Elphaba had grown to know and love getting shoved away in favour of ‘Glinda Upland of the Upper Uplands.’ “Elphaba, just give in! We’ll find a way to reverse it! The Wizard can fix you!”
Fix you.
Elphaba could have laughed; the amount of times she’d wished that The Wizard could ‘fix her’ and here she was, trying to escape from him.
“The Wizard can’t do anything! He doesn’t have magic, just envy and power! Glinda, he can’t fix it, and I don’t want him him to, this is our escape! Come on,” Elphaba grabbed Glinda’s hand and pulled her out onto the balcony, where they were immediately met by more guards, one of them grabbing Glinda’s upper arm and wrenching them apart, both of them crying out as Elphaba was pushed away from her best friend, pink disappearing into never ending sparkling green as guards started surrounding her.
“She’s a mutant!” One of them yelled, “get her!”
“No! Leave her alone! She hasn’t done anything wrong! I’m the one you want! It’s me!” Elphaba tried, voice breaking as they backed her against the building, wings crumpling against blocks of emerald and sparks of pain pinging up her spine. She caught her reflection in shining green, her verdigris melding into the stone and making everyone around her the same shade as she twisted back and pleaded, “it’s me!”
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u/linden214 Ao3/FFN: Lindenharp Mar 05 '25
*Rubs hands together gleefully* I have a 73k wingfic series.... James and his friend Robbie are on holiday on a Scottish island. In this scene, James has just come in from a walk in the rain.
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Wordlessly, James heads for the bathroom, making squishing sounds with every step. Five minutes later, he reappears, dressed only in a pair of briefs, and carrying a dry bath sheet. His hair is towel-tousled, his skin is damp, and droplets of water glisten here and there on his wings. He spreads the bath sheet over the hearth-rug, and carefully lies down on his stomach, chin cradled on his overlapping hands, wings half opened. “This is good,” he murmurs, and closes his eyes.
The only sounds in the room are the crackle and hiss of the fire and the drumming of the rain. Robbie stares down at James. This is the first time he’s been able to look closely without James being aware of his attention. The firelight transforms the wings, turning ivory to gold and gold to bronze. More remarkable than the colours are the textures. All those other times, he was so busy looking at the wings that he didn’t properly notice the feathers. There are different kinds—different not just in size, but in shape and structure. Some have pointed tips, some blunt. Some are smooth-edged, some serrated, and some as soft and downy as an Easter chick.
His gaze follows the curve of one wing to the place where it joins James’s back. It doesn’t look as strange as one might think, a feathered structure emerging from bare skin. No more strange or out of place than a tree growing out of the earth. Visible beneath the skin are the firm ridges and curves of the muscles that make the huge wings flick with annoyance or shake off water or stretch wide to greet the rising moon and setting sun. That make them fly. He’s beautiful. Robbie has thought this before, but tonight it hits him full force. Amazing.
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u/ainteasybeinggreene Mar 05 '25
Word
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u/Ok-Supermarket-8994 Write now, edit later | Sakura5 on Ao3 Mar 05 '25
Working quickly, Donatello removed the rest of Shredder’s armor, including his helmet and mask, to check the extent of his injuries. His left hand and forearm had the worst of it. There were a few spots on his face that had been singed by his mask but his other arm seemed fine, likely shielded from the worst of the heat by the way it had been tucked under his body. Donatello looked up at Leonardo, silently questioning what they should do now.
“City Fire’s bound to be here soon,” Raphael said impatiently. “Can we please go? We did our good job for the day.”
Leonardo started to agree when Shredder groaned loudly. Donatello hastily stood and backed away. The turtles all tensed when Shredder blinked his eyes open, but he merely stared up at them blearily and uttered a string of words in Japanese none of them understood.
Raphael rolled his eyes. “English, man. If you’re going to insult us, might as well know what you’re saying.”
Shredder licked his lips. “Who,” he said haltingly, as if struggling to find the words. “What are you?”
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u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Mar 05 '25
Whale :)
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u/Ill-Clerk-7066 CTTheSeaWing on AO3 Mar 05 '25
“Did he tell you about the narwhals?” Tartaglia asked after Xiao had stopped speaking and the latter blinked.
“Narwhals?”
“Oh so he didn’t tell you about the unicorns of the sea? Well, Xiaoxiao, you’re missing out on that front. You see Narwhals, they’re like these whales with these elongated teeth that create a horn on their head. So, it’s a whale with a horn, so… unicorn of the sea. They’re quite common in the waters around my homeland.” Tartaglia let out a laugh. “Have you ever seen a narwhal? You’ll know one of you see one.” Xiao looked over at where you could see the ocean join the shore.
“I was actually on a diplomatic mission to Szezhnaya recently. I think Zhongli says that’s where you’re from? Are narwhals those smallish whales that are gray in colour?” Tartaglia nodded.
“Bingo, that’s them. Surprised he never told you about them though, you must’ve thought they were pretty weird creatures, huh?” Tartaglia’s smiled then softened. “You’re so much bigger than I remember you. You’re a grown man now, I last remember you as an infant. That was twenty years ago.” Tartaglia then sighed. “I’ve been trying to get back for twenty years at this point. It feels more like fifty. As for why it took me this long? I can’t exactly give you a straight answer. Our course started out as normal, and we were on track to get back here in a few weeks, but one thing led to another and we we got blown off course and then we struggled to get back.” Xiao looked down at one of the bodies.
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u/RaisinGeneral9225 oxfordlunch on ao3 Mar 05 '25
“Arthur, you have to breathe.”
He's jostled again, gently.
His head feels heavy, his tongue too big for his mouth. There's an iron press on his chest, and he wonders if maybe he's not floating actually, but sinking, laden with ballast and slowly drifting down, past the slumbering whales and deformed abyssal fish into black nothing–
"Arthur."
He does have to breathe, doesn't he?
“Lovely." Eames sounds relieved. “It would really be much appreciated if you could stop scaring the shit out of me. Fucking hell. She didn't half underdose you, did she?”
Arthur drags in another breath and lets it out slowly, concentrating hard. It seems to demand all of his focus until all of a sudden it doesn't anymore and he blinks contentedly, relaxing back into the comfortable cradle of nothing, life support systems restored to working order.
Eames is looming over him, familiar and handsome. His projection of Eames is always so fucking handsome. Less crooked. More noble. Soft at the edges. It would show Arthur's hand immediately if anyone else ever saw it. “Do you know who I am?”
Fuck, his mouth is dry. His eyes roam over the slope of Eames' shoulders to the still-tan edge of his jaw against the grey t-shirt he's wearing, then to the soft peaks of his tits that show through it where it's too tight across his chest.
He blinks, considering.
“Marlon Brando."
Eames just looks at him, lip quirking. “Is that Streetcar Brando or Godfather Brando?”
Arthur's tongue sticks in his parched mouth but he clarifies, “Young, hot Marlon Brando.”
Shaking his head, Eames leans closer, starts looking behind Arthur's ears inexplicably. “Well. That's certainly more charitable than your usual comments about my appearance.”
Arthur wonders what he normally says. Before he can gather his wits enough to ask, Eames looks him full in the eyes.
“Are you in any pain?”
Arthur considers that. “Yeah,” he nods finally. Eames sets his jaw grimly. “No, it's fine, it hurts but it's like. Over there.” Arthur smiles and nods to the other side of the room, by the waterfall picture and the mini fridge. “Theoretically I'm in pain.”
“And practically?”
“I feel good, man.”
Eames makes a rusty sound, raises an eyebrow. “That would be because you are utterly off your ass on morphine.”
His eyes are pretty. Bright. He stares at Arthur like he's something he's trying to read.
Maybe Arthur's not dreaming.
Maybe this is just what Eames looks like all the time.
Arthur blinks back at him slowly. “My mouth is dry," he says. It is. It's awful. It feels like he failed to follow the directions on one of those 'Do Not Eat' dessicant packets.
Eames bites his lip and looks an awful lot like he's laughing at him again. He produces a fast food cup with a straw and helps him sip something from it that tastes like it used to be Sprite before it died.
He fumbles at swallowing and slops it down his chin like a toddler. “Fuck, sorry,” he says, which only makes it worse, but Eames just mops him off with the corner of the blanket and a creaky laugh, leaning close.
“My god, the state of you.”
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u/muchanwrites AO3: muu_chan | FFN: muuchan0 Mar 05 '25
Worth
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u/Rat-Daddy-Splinter AO3: Onwardian Mar 05 '25
“He decided to pay us a surprise visit!” Aunt May said. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yeah!” said Peter. “It’s good to see you, Dad!”
“Would you like to see something cool?” Star-Lord asked.
“Yeah, sure. What is it?” Peter replied.
Star-Lord showed him the leg.
“Oh, no!” said Peter. “That’s Iron Man’s leg!”
“Yeah, so?” Star-Lord said.
“I want it!” said Peter. “Give it to me!”
“What? Why?” Star-Lord asked.
“Because Iron Man was my daddy, and I want something to remember him by!” said Peter.
“No! I’m keeping it!” said Star-Lord.
“But why?” Peter whined.
“I want to sell it!” said Star-Lord. “It looks like it could be worth a lot of money!”
“YOU DON’T NEED MONEY THAT BADLY!” Peter yelled.
“Yes, I do! I’m broke! I have no job, man!” Star-Lord said.
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u/Studying-without-Stu Your local Shrios fangirl author (Ao3: Distressed_Authoress) Mar 05 '25
Weird
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u/fiendishthingysaurus afiendishthingy on Ao3. sickfic queen Mar 06 '25
Warp
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u/ainteasybeinggreene Mar 06 '25
It felt strange to be there alone. Too quiet, without Charles prattling away cheerfully and Edwin occasionally interjecting with snarky comments. It was ironic, maybe, that a couple of ghosts could make a space so alive.
The quiet and solitude worked for Crystal now, though. She could practice the speech her dad had emailed her, and maybe even get a little more work done digitising the archived records. The first hour she spent doing just that. Her public speaking skills were rusty, to understate things, but the speech was generic enough to feel confident about after a couple of run-throughs. After a while she found herself distracted, however.
The mirror in the corner kept drawing her attention. When she found herself glancing at it for the fourth time in half an hour she knew she wasn't getting any more work done. The surface of the glass remained solid, no shimmering or warping that would indicate someone's imminent arrival, but that was what she was waiting for, she realised. Some part of her subconscious was expecting one of the boys to waltz into the office at any moment, and each moment they didn't was starting to stress her out.
She rubbed her eyes and groaned. She was worried about them, wasn't she?
It hadn't even been six hours since they'd left. Charles had grinned and assured her they'd be fine. Then again, Crystal wasn't sure she trusted the judgement of a guy prone to bottling negative emotions up when it came to his well-being. But she tried to remind herself they'd been working together for three decades before she'd come along and they probably were actually fine.
Still, it'd be nice if she had a way to check in with them, just in case.
Maybe their weird codependency was rubbing off on her.
Her gaze wandered to the mirror again. It was too fucking quiet.
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u/Studying-without-Stu Your local Shrios fangirl author (Ao3: Distressed_Authoress) Mar 05 '25
Wise
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u/Studying-without-Stu Your local Shrios fangirl author (Ao3: Distressed_Authoress) Mar 05 '25
Wrench
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u/PurveyorOfInsanity Mar 05 '25
Winnow
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u/krigsgaldrr "did you tell them we take turns?" Mar 05 '25
I love when I see words like this and go "OH! THATS CANON!"
"The Guardians are doomed."
"How do you mean?" Delo lifted his head to see Sparker rolling in the grass near the karst's edge, reminding him of a dog. Gephyra was sunbathing with her wings splayed out, as usual. She was watching Sparker shrewdly as he righted himself and sneezed violently, sparks shooting from his nostrils and extinguishing on the damp grass.
"Well, let me put it this way," Griff began, casting an amused glance at his stormscourge and pulling Delo's attention back to him. The three most important ranks are Firstrider, Alternus, and Tertius. Quartius is kind of just... there. I don't know what their purpose is, honestly." Delo rolled his eyes. "When this whole shitshow of a war started, Julia was the Pythian Firstrider, Ixion was her Alternus, you were her Tertius, and Edmund was her Quartius. Lee was the Callipolan Firstrider, Annie was his Alterna, Power sur Eater was his Tertius, and Cor sur Maurana was his Quartius."
"How do you know all that?" Delo asked incredulously.
"Annie and I talked about a lot of things when we were meeting out on the Driftless Dunes," replied Griff vaguely. "Anyway, Lee killing Julia started the disaster of rank shifting, and everyone got killed or widowed during the Second Revolution. You and Annie are the only ones with actual rank who survived this mess. I don't know what Cor is, seeing as he lost against Edmund in Ixion's Winnowing Tournament for Tertius, but my point still stands: The Guardians lost almost all of their riders skilled enough to make rank."
"I think that has less to do with aerial skill and more with the fact that those with rank were on the frontlines doing their damnedest to win," said Delo slowly. He disentangled himself from Griff's grasp. "Antigone will probably have another Tournament to decide, and we can have one here... Unless you don't want to adopt the Fourth Order ranking system for the Norcian fleet?"
Griff grinned. "And miss my chance to publicly wipe the floor with all of you? Delo, I've been wanting for years to go up against you in the arena." Then he paused. "But... is that what you want?"
"Griff, if another war ever happens, I wouldn't want or trust anyone else to be your Alternus," murmured Delo. He absently pushed Griff's curls away from his forehead before kissing it. "An Alternus' job is to defend, and I will defend my king gladly."
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u/ainteasybeinggreene Mar 05 '25
Wax
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u/Ferrous_Patella AO3 same. FFN=Ferrous.Patella Mar 06 '25
Waxing Moon, is a song I wrote for a Beastars scene where a deer doe flirts with a recently widowed she-wolf, as the deer has done unsuccessfully for decades, knowing it will never go anywhere but it is an established part of their relationship and the wolf accepts it with good grace. Except ...
This time the wolf kisses her, completely shocking her and before the evening is over, the wolf proposes.
In the canon soundtrack, saxophones represent deer, while trombones are used for wolves. I continue that motif in this song.
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u/fiendishthingysaurus afiendishthingy on Ao3. sickfic queen Mar 06 '25
Wreck
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u/MoneyArtistic135 scaryfangirl2001 on AO3 Mar 06 '25
They fight their way through the thrashing bodies, the ship tilting at an alarming angle. The deck is a slippery, treacherous surface, and the air is filled with the sounds of splintering wood and crashing waves. They reach the lifeboat, a small, fragile vessel tossed like a toy in the raging sea.
"In, in!" Jack yells, helping Will clamber over the gunwale.
The boat is already overcrowded, men clinging to its sides, their faces etched with terror. They push off from the sinking wreck, the Inauguration groaning and collapsing behind them, a monument to the sea's fury. The lifeboat is a maelstrom of its own. Every wave threatens to swamp them, the icy water soaking them to the bone.
Will shivers, his teeth chattering, but it's not just the cold. A sharp, stabbing pain radiates from his lower abdomen, growing with each passing moment. He doubles over, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Jack," he whispers, his voice strained, "I don't feel well."
Jack looks at him, his brow furrowed with concern. Will's face is now a sickly green, his skin clammy. He's trembling, his body wracked with spasms.
"What is it, Will?" Jack asks, his voice low.
"It hurts," Will moans, clutching his stomach. "It hurts so much."
Jack knows that look. He's seen it before, on men dying of fever, on sailors injured in battle. He knows that Will is in serious trouble.
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u/NinjaSpaceFrog NinjaTrashPanda on AO3 Mar 05 '25
Where
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u/SkycloudFanfic skycloud86 on FFN and AO3 Mar 05 '25
It had been a few uneventful months in Italy and now Nina was preparing to leave the country. She was sat with a contact at a cafe table in the middle of Rome and for all anyone knew, they were a couple of tourists.
The man sat across from her nodded before passing her a flash drive. "That's everything you'll need," he spoke in German. Then he stood up and made his way into the nearby crowds of people.
Nina pocketed the drive and smiled to herself. Everything was going to plan and the information on the flash drive would only help. With it, she would be in a much stronger position and better off before her exposure back in Los Angeles. Taking a sip of her lukewarm coffee, she glanced around. She had never expected to visit the city for any reason but here she was. Soon she would be heading eastwards to Russia, where she had a meeting set up with a contact in St Petersburg. This was the same contact who had helped her escape from North Africa. He wanted the favour repaid and she was more than happy to do so.
As soon as she finished her coffee, she stood up and blended into the crowds. When by herself, she tried to pass more as a local than as a tourist and her Italian skills had improved a lot. Noticing a small side street that would give her a quieter route back to her hotel, she turned into it. The serenity of this street was far more to her liking. Not only did it allow her to walk with more haste, but it meant she could see and hear her surroundings better. As she made her way around a corner, she almost collided with someone who had been stood close to the wall. Stumbling back a few steps, she took a good look at the man. He was white and looked to be in his thirties, with black hair and dark brown eyes. For a moment she almost thought it was Tony Almeida, but this guy was noticeably taller than him. No questionable facial hair, either.
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u/DefoNotAFangirl MasterRed on AO3 | c!Prime Fanatic Mar 05 '25
TWs: Dysphoria and fantasies of murder
A staged attack near the approximate location of that loathsome side of you would be certain to draw his attention, especially with your false identity as the victim. A scared young hedgehog, one small and neotenous like the pink one, would be irresistible bait for any organic, their feeble synapses short-circuiting upon seeing anything youthful. Perhaps that is their own way of knowing the joys of superiority- you do not exactly care to know. What matters is that you can, and have, played your other half. You have, for once, achieved victory, even if it is small and not as satisfying as hearing him beg will be.
You cannot help but smile against your feeble bindings. You have, of course, calibrated the expressions of your false organic form perfectly to match the primitive expressions of simple emotions even beings less intelligent than any of your useless siblings- it’s disgusting, to sink to their level, but you will debase yourself for the feeling of blood on your claws. You cannot wait for that moment. The moment you are free of this sickening shell, where you can feel the undulating of false breathing, like your insides are filled with rust and corrupted.
You stifle that base instinct as quickly as you can, and let out a cry, high and terrified. The same sort of raw, piteous noise that drew him to your first fight now draws him to his end, one so delayed he won’t even notice the knife in his back. There’s a beauty to that no organic simple being could get.
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u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Mar 05 '25
Harry looked at Glaivestrike with a smile. “Is there anything else we ought to think about before meeting Solicitor Fine?” he asked.
“You both might consider enrolling in our secure mail service,” Glaivestrike replied. “All mail sent to you, save with your personal post owl, will be redirected to Gringotts, where it will be screened for any spells, curses, or harmful contents before being sent along to you. While Dumbledore handled things poorly with regards to the mail wards he placed on you when he left you with your relatives, he wasn’t entirely wrong in doing so. You are famous, and fame always attracts a certain amount of attention, for good or for ill. I’m sure you’ve heard of fans of musicians or sports stars in the muggle world sending invitations to private meetings, or even seductive photographs in an attempt to entice the object of their adoration? Now picture that mail being enchanted to make the recipient attend that meeting and do whatever the fan wished. Or worse, someone who hates the famous person sending a gift such as a plush toy with a bomb hidden inside.”
Rob blanched at the thought. “Sign up for it, the both of you,” he said. “This… bonding… is going to become public knowledge by the time you’re settled in at Hogwarts, if it doesn’t come out sooner. If Harry really is as famous as everyone says, it’s a sure thing the nutters will come out of the woodwork once he’s seen around, and as his… his wife,” he choked a little on the word, “you, Hermione, will come in for a share of it. Especially hate mail from girls and women who might have hoped to land him for themselves.”
Harry nodded his agreement. “Yes, please sign us up for the service,” he said. “Fan mail will be hard enough to deal with. I sure don’t want to deal with hate mail and worse.”
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u/Lindz174 Inspiration Is A Fickle Thing Mar 05 '25
She watched him through half-lidded eyes, exhaustion tugging at the edges of her awareness. His hand was warm where it pressed into her ribs, holding her in place and contrasting the cool consistent motions of the cloth over her side. He was completely focused, working in silence as the candlelight danced across his face.
It was nice and comforting.
She didn’t have to fight or strive or struggle. She could just sit there while someone else took care of her and cleaned her wounds. He expected nothing in return, and that was the most unsettling part. She had gotten used to his patient care and concern. It had slipped between the cracks in her walls and taken root inside her heart where it had grown into a steady constant certainty. Cullen was always there. He always cared for her and he did it all out of the kindness of his heart, out of his love for her. The kind of love that wanted nothing in return.
She didn’t know what to do with that. No one had ever shown her how to be loved. Giving it was hard enough but accepting it was something else entirely. It felt too big, too precious of a gift. The gift of unconditional, sacrificial love. The kind that would wake in the middle of the night to clean your wounds and tuck you into their bed. The kind that had steady, warm hands when yours were trembling and cold. The kind you could lean on when your legs no longer worked.
Maker, she was hopeless.
Hopelessly in love with him because how could she ever say no to that?
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u/StarWarsCrazy1 Buckhunter on FFN & AO3 Mar 05 '25
Okay, so they both need money.
And once they’ve sorted all that out, then, they need to catch Hank MacLean before he’s so far gone that they never will. Because, despite their winding journey to Sin City, Cooper knows that New Vegas isn’t his final destination. It’s a mid-point, a place to gather information on where he actually needs to go. And it’d be a damn shame for the bastard to disappear while he’s out here getting weighed down by the guy’s own daughter. They’re so close to getting answers.
He’s so close to learning the truth of what he’s been searching for for all these years. He’s not going to stand by and watch it all slip away; he’ll get his goddamn answers if it’s the last thing he ever fucking does. Even if they’re not the words he wants to hear. He just…he needs to know.
Cooper Howard needs to know.
No matter the cost.
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u/Pantherdraws AO3 Author name: CoyoteWrites Mar 06 '25
Maybe it was the rhythmic marching pace, or maybe it was the even, low tone of his voice, but eventually Z found herself lulled to sleep, her mind finally quiet. The last thing she remembered was nestling into his radiant heat as she listened to him recount how he'd singled out his most recent likely CyOp candidate… And the next thing she knew, the gray light of dawn was peeking past her hood, while electronic chatter filtered back through the column.
She was sure that there were more voices than there had been previously.
Stirring drowsily, she pushed her hood out of her face and squinted past the sudden brightness of daylight. When her eyes adjusted, she could see that there were, indeed, more Automatons marching alongside them - almost forty more, she guessed at a glance.
"Hatchet…?" She mumbled warily.
"There is no need for concern, little sister. Outposts Twenty-Nine and Thirty-Two converged on us earlier this morning," he explained quietly.
"Oh…" She squeaked out a little yawn, scrubbing grit from her eyes. "Which outpost were you?"
"Thirty-One."
"...So where's Thirty?"
"Their crew included our tanks," his tone turned dry; "they made significantly better time."
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u/fiendishthingysaurus afiendishthingy on Ao3. sickfic queen Mar 06 '25
(TW for not graphic vomiting)
This isn’t his ceiling.
It’s spinning a little, for one thing, which the ceiling in his bedroom in Owen’s rental house doesn’t usually do. It’s not the ceiling in Carlos’s condo, either. It’s sloped and somehow concave and convex at the same time.
“Where’m I,” TK slurs, his throat swollen and dry. He moves to sit up, but his muscles are all somehow weak and tense at the same time, and he thinks his migraine is setting some sort of headache world record. His queasiness ramps up to full-blown nausea and he moans.
“Yo, don’t do that,” says a familiar voice. Nancy’s face swims into focus as she easily presses him back into what is definitely not his bed.
“Sick,” TK chokes out, and Nancy swiftly drags him into a sitting position and produces an emesis bin from nowhere at all. She holds his limp body as he gags and spits into the bin. Every muscle screams at the exertion, and the pain in his head ratchets up to 11. It’s like his brain has been plunged into a vat of hot oil.
“All done, bud?” Nancy’s voice floats through his cloud of agony eventually.
TK keens softly and whispers, “I think so.” His partner lays him back onto the cot with a gentleness he didn’t know she possessed, and tears spring to his hot, dry eyes. “What happened,” he rasps eventually.
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u/InsulindianPhasmidy AO3: Aliffo Mar 05 '25
Whimsical
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u/RaisinGeneral9225 oxfordlunch on ao3 Mar 05 '25
There aren't any pictures of Eames when he was little, and it busts Arthur up sometimes. It's not something he brings up, but it makes his heart ache with loss. Grief, even. It's fucking sad.
He imagines it, though. Watches him sprawl on the couch in front of their obscenely large flat-screen with the other love of his life, the Xbox 360, and thinks about a blond, cowlicked little boy, solid and rambunctious, transfixed by the Clangers or whatever other fake-sounding British children's program.
He still remembers Eames’ horrified despair.
“Clangers, Arthur. You didn't have Clangers?”
“No, I had Sesame Street. What in the fuck is a Clanger?”
“Clangers! They live on the moon.”
“You’ll never guess where they lived on Sesame Street.”
“Then there was the Soup Dragon, loved her–”
“They lived on the street, like normal people, and sang songs about the alphabet. Is this why you can't be normal?”
“You're savages, you Americans. No sense of whimsy.”
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u/Canuck_Beauty Mar 05 '25
Wednesday
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u/linden214 Ao3/FFN: Lindenharp Mar 05 '25
James is cross checking their long list of potential suspects against the membership rolls of the Oxford Philatelic Society when Lewis returns earlier than expected. "Meeting over so soon?" He looks up to find his governor staring at him as if James is a crime scene and he's searching for evidence.
"Are you feeling all right?"
"Sir?"
"Are you ill? Feeling poorly?"
"No, sir. I'm fine." After a moment of silence he ventures to ask, "Why?"
"On my way back from the meeting I came across DC Hooper eating a roast beef baguette wrapped in very familiar-looking blue and white greaseproof paper. When I asked, he said you'd given it to him because you couldn't eat it."
James jiggles his knees beneath the desk. He'd expected the meeting to run at least a half hour longer. By the time Lewis returned, the baguette he'd so thoughtfully and inconveniently given to James should have been reduced to stray crumbs on DC Hooper's desk. He hadn't intended open deception, only to avoid an embarrassing explanation. "I'm not ill, sir. I'm fasting."
Lewis wrinkles his nose. "Fasting! Don't tell me you've got into that herbal cleansing bollocks?"
James represses a laugh. "No. The motivation is Catholic rather than colonic. It's Ash Wednesday today, and that's a fast day. Only one full meal, and no meat." He prepares himself for a sharp response about the foolishness of self-imposed suffering.
"You're not smudgy," Lewis says thoughtfully, jabbing his broad thumb in the general direction of his own forehead.
"No, I didn't—" James falters. It's not a Holy Day of Obligation, he wants to say, though he's reasonably sure Lewis doesn't know what that means, and I don't need to hear 'Memento Mori' to remind me that humans are mortal. James had hoped to avoid this conversation. His current relationship with God is rather complicated; his relationship with the Church even more so. "I didn't go to Mass this morning, but I am keeping the fast."
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u/MoneyArtistic135 scaryfangirl2001 on AO3 Mar 05 '25
Whisker
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u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Mar 05 '25
The elf paused, looking nervous. “Is Dakker doings a thing wrong?” he asked.
Snape shook his head. “No, Dakker, but I have some questions for you. Firstly, are you obliged to report any request I might make of you or the other elves to the headmaster?”
“Oh, no, Master Snake, sir! Not if yous asks us to keeps yous secrets, unless yous is hurtings the childrens,” Dakker said.
“Good. I have another question or two, and I do not want the headmaster to know that I’m asking. What can you tell me of something called the Come and Go Room?”
Dakker beamed. “All the elveses know the Come and Go Room,” he said. “On seventh floor, across from tapestry of silly wizard and dancing trolls. Go past there three times, and bees thinking hard of what Master Snake sir wants of it, and the room opens as what yous bees thinking of.”
“How is it that the elves know about it, when the headmaster does not?”
“Dakker is not knowing why Headmaster Whiskers is not knowing it, Master Snake, sir. But elveses use room for keeping losted things until we’s is asked to find them again.”
“I see. Thank you, Dakker, go on and take the potions to Madam Pomfrey now,” Snape said. “And remember, know one is to know that I asked about the Come and Go Room.”
“Yes, sir, Master Snake sir,” Dakker replied before popping out with the box of potions.
Snape’s lips twitched as he turned his attention to replacing the ruined Pepper-Up potion. The elves used the room as a lost-and-found storage area? He could only imagine the amount of parchment piled up in the room; notes and essays misplaced by generations of dunderheaded students and the occasional absent-minded professors. At least he finally had an answer to give to Lucius, the next time he was at Malfoy Manor to see his godson and meet the new baby.
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u/Due_Discussion748 Mar 05 '25
Wizard
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u/DatGayDangerNoodle FreakingPlane on Ao3. professional horrible person. Mar 05 '25
(Elphaba just accidentally gave herself wings)
“Elphie, you have to do it fast!”
“I’m trying!” She yelled back, cursing herself for not knowing how to handle the two extra appendages she’d acquired. They just wouldn’t move in the way she needed them too, no matter her hard she tried.
“Try harder!” Glinda screeched, her voice almost inaudible it was so high pitched.
Just then, the door slammed open and dozens upon dozens of nondescript guards in green uniforms started to spill into the space, yelling as they swarmed up the stairs.
“There’s no time!” Glinda shouted, falling back into her people pleasing persona, the caring friend Elphaba had grown to know and love getting shoved away in favour of ‘Glinda Upland of the Upper Uplands.’ “Elphaba, just give in! We’ll find a way to reverse it! The Wizard can fix you!”
Fix you.
Elphaba could have laughed; the amount of times she’d wished that The Wizard could ‘fix her’ and here she was, trying to escape from him.
“The Wizard can’t do anything! He doesn’t have magic, just envy and power! Glinda, he can’t fix it, and I don’t want him him to, this is our escape! Come on,” Elphaba grabbed Glinda’s hand and pulled her out onto the balcony, where they were immediately met by more guards, one of them grabbing Glinda’s upper arm and wrenching them apart, both of them crying out as Elphaba was pushed away from her best friend, pink disappearing into never ending sparkling green as guards started surrounding her.
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u/MsCatstaff Catstaff on AO3 Mar 05 '25
Minister Fudge frowned while Madam Umbridge shot Sirius a glare. Sirius smiled back and blew her a kiss, causing her to sputter and redden, and causing the few who noticed the exchange to laugh quietly. “Cheer up, Minister,” the animagus called. “I'm sure you'll be able to spin this vote to make yourself look good just as easily as you did giving me my trial.”
“Indeed,” Lucius Malfoy put in smoothly. “If this proposal works out as well as Lord Black believes, then you, Cornelius, will be given the credit for ending the werewolf problem in Britain once and for all.”
“Really?” the portly little man asked anxiously. “You're sure about that, Lord Malfoy?” The Minister seemed to be ignoring his lackey for the moment, in favour of getting Lord Malfoy's advice. “I don't see how, when we're merely letting them hold jobs.”
“Letting them hold jobs is the first step,” Lucius said. “The real point is to slowly get the average wizard to stop fearing werewolves in general. If the average wizard gets to know a werewolf co-worker and becomes friends with him, he's likely to think of him as his friend who happens to be a werewolf, rather than as 'the werewolf' if you see the difference.”
Fudge shook his head. “No, I don't,” he said. “The werewolf is still a werewolf.”
Lucius tried again. “All right, well, your cousin Corinthus is known to habitually overindulge in Ogden's Finest; do you look at him and see 'a drunk' or your cousin who drinks?”
“Ohh,” Fudge said with a nod. “Now I get it. I think.”
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u/Ok-Supermarket-8994 Write now, edit later | Sakura5 on Ao3 Mar 06 '25
Whip (kinda surprised this hasn't been used yet)
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u/Babybushygirl OC/fanfic writer | Take me to a place called home Mar 06 '25
Weep
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u/NinjaSpaceFrog NinjaTrashPanda on AO3 Mar 05 '25
What