#i'm very very tempted to post it to ao3 but i'm hesitant

[altruistic-meme]

a little WIP saturday i guess :) here's a little snippet from Go Low! my brain has been itching me to continue it so here we are

[crowfootwrites]

Devotion & Diplomacy - Part VII

Hi hello! Apologies for the like, 6 month hiatus. I want to promise it won't happen again, but really, it's not a money-back guarantee. 😅 I'm very excited to post this chapter and hopefully get the rest of them out in short order, as there are only 11 total! So we're almost there! Shit's about to get really real in this story, too, so I'm practically vibrating (though that might be the coffee).

Tagging my usuals: @horta-in-charge, @starrynightgardens, @sleepycat82, @vreenak, and @deepspacedukat 😘

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Read on AO3

Warnings: lots of political tension and discussions of occupations, obviously; general Cardassian douchebaggery; some fluff that fades to black in the beginning | Words: ~3,415

The distinctly ashy golden light of Cardassia’s sun filtered through the thin window coverings in Daro’s bedroom, and Emrys stirred. The light on this planet always reminded her of some old Earth photos she’d once seen of the sky during “wildfire seasons”, before fire suppression systems were so readily accessible, and as she found herself lying in a room bathed in dusky light, she was hit by a sudden pang of homesickness. 

She rolled over languidly, searching for Daro, but the bed was empty. Today was a day of rest on Cardassia, meaning she had a rare day off. She was sorely tempted to stay in bed, but the appeal was lost with Daro nowhere to be seen. Stretching, she pulled herself out of his bed, wincing at some soreness between her thighs and tightness in her muscles. She went to swipe Daro’s shirt from the day before off the floor to tug on, when she heard a content hum coming from the doorway.

She glanced up to see a smiling Daro leaning leisurely against the doorframe with two mugs in his hands.

“I could get used to this view,” he murmured. Clad in only a pair of his thin sleep pants, Emrys took a moment to appreciate his broad chest, the pattern of his scales and ridges beginning to feel familiar already. 

“I could say the same,” she volleyed back, her eyebrow piqued in interest.

Daro chuckled, moving into the room before handing her a mug. Dropping his shirt back to the ground, she took her cup and crawled back into bed with it. He followed her lead, settling himself beside her in the soft sheets and resting his back against the headboard. It was the most relaxed Emrys had ever seen him. She curled up against his chest and sipped her tea quietly.

“You don’t have to report to Central today, correct?” Daro asked, resting his cheek against the crown of her head.

“Blessedly, no,” she said with a quiet huff of laughter. Her mood soured slightly as she realized what the next meeting would be like - the next topic on the table was Bajor, one that was sure to fan the flames that characterized nearly every treaty session they’ve had over the past several months. 

Daro noticed the slight change in her demeanor and shifted, lifting her chin with a finger so he could study her. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed. “I know it’s counterproductive to spend time off worrying about the next time I have to go to work, and I don’t intend to dwell on it for long, but… I was just thinking about our next session. If I had to guess, it’ll likely get very ugly.”

“What points will you have to discuss?” he asked curiously, tucking her head back under his chin.

She hesitated, prepared to dance around the question as so often had to when meeting with Central Command, or other Cardassians in general. But this was Daro. He’d already made it clear that he disapproved of many of his government’s decisions, although Emrys would never share that with anyone else. 

She took a bracing sip of tea before setting it on the small table beside the bed. “The Occupation.”

“Ah,” Daro responded quietly above her. 

“The Federation won’t sign a treaty as long as Cardassia continues to occupy Bajor,” she noted.

“Understandably,” he agreed. 

Emrys breathed a laugh. “I wish everyone in power here thought like you.” She traced patterns absentmindedly along his chest. “I think I’m mostly concerned because I’ve been given so little to work with. It seems ridiculous to even have to say that - there shouldn’t have to be any bargaining to end a literal occupation, but to Ziven and the rest of Central Command, controlling Bajor is paramount. They won’t give it up, even though we know it’s costing them a fortune, and rather than recognize just how hard Cardassians will fight to keep their place on Bajor and give me something to negotiate with, my superiors believe that the Ziven will just… I don’t know, bow to my will. I suppose I just… I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, how I’m going to handle it.” 

Daro remained silent above her and, unable to see his expression, Emrys worried that she’d offended him somehow. She lifted her fingers from his chest but before she could move away, he’d grasped them in his hand and placed them back against his skin, pressing her hand flat to his chest beneath his. 

“I am immensely sorry that you are having to fight with them about this. We… we should have never gone to Bajor,” Daro murmured, his hushed voice full of regret as his thumb rubbed slowly against the lip of his mug. “The people on Cardassia had little knowledge of what was really going on – the Central Command painted a very different picture of the Occupation. They still do, really.” He paused, his eyes unfocused on the wall before them. Instinctively, Emrys adjusted her hand on his chest to intertwine their fingers together. Daro’s gaze followed the movement, his heart heavy in his chest.

“I appreciate,” he began gently, shifting so he could look in her eyes again, “that you do not judge every man for the actions of others. I am certain I don’t deserve that kindness.” His fingers tightened around hers for a moment. “I carry a great deal of shame for what has been done, and my part in it.”

Emrys recalled what he’d said to her when they first met. We all carry things with us that we’d sooner forget.

“Central Command,” he continued, “has always had a way of telling parts of the story, painting part of the picture, twisting facts and situations. That way, they can convince you to think and believe whatever they want. There are… many terrible things that I was a part of because we weren’t given all of the information, or because Central Command had lied to us. But even in those times when I wasn’t involved directly, or when, afterward, we’d discovered how they’d used us- I remained silent when I shouldn’t have. And I will have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

Emrys guided their clasped hands toward her, placing a soft kiss on the back of Daro’s. “If you hadn’t, it’s very likely you wouldn’t be here with me now. And for that, I’m very grateful.”

A somber smile crossed Daro’s face as he contemplated the woman in front of him. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to wind up with this merciful, lovely human in his arms, but he knew in that moment he’d do anything to keep her. 

Determined not to ruin their day, Emrys gently extricated herself from Daro’s arms and sat cross-legged on the bed facing him. 

“What are your plans for today, Glinn?” she asked with an impish grin. 

Daro schooled his features into a serious mask before leaning over and setting his cup on the bedside table. Before Emrys could react, he’d shifted onto his knees and pinned her beneath him on the bed. Her initial yelp morphed into an infectious giggle as his lips latched onto her neck. She could feel his smile against her skin between kisses.

“My plans look a great deal like this, irc’lin.” 

— — —

Emrys took her usual seat between Romar and Varsek, feeling prepared for the day’s session. Daro’s presence over the last few days had been a source of intense comfort for her, so gratifying that the mere thought of seeing him had the power to get through long days at Central Command. That very morning, she’d woken curled into his reassuring warmth – their sunrise had been colored by tender whispers and lingering touches. They’d had breakfast together and Daro walked with her to the Imperial Plaza before departing with a fervent kiss. Thoroughly lost in thought, Emrys’ fingers brushed fleetingly over her lips as she recalled the greed of his mouth on hers.

“Beck!” 

The gruff utterance from Varsek at her side broke through her daze and she shifted in her seat, pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin. Varsek rolled his eyes and faced forward again, the disapproval in his visage obvious. 

Emrys tried to ignore it, knowing that he was likely on edge about the topic the Federation would be bringing to the table today. Just as she was. But unlike Varsek, she couldn’t afford to lose her head. She’d prepared as much as she could. She’d also requested more time to lay the groundwork with Central Command before bringing this particular negotiation point up - that her request had been denied wasn’t her fault. Should today’s session go sideways, she could always politely remind her superiors that she’d solicited a different approach.

Gul-Tar Ziven settled in his seat, his countenance severe and, as always, giving nothing away. His sharp eyes seemed to find Emrys more often than usual as the remainder of his officers seated themselves, and Emrys shifted almost imperceptibly in her seat when she noticed.

“It is my hope that everyone had a restful night.” The rumble of his voice carried over the long conference table. “As discussed when last we met, there are matters of critical importance to be raised today, and it is my sincerest hope that the Federation will be willing to recognize the,” his gaze zeroed in on Emrys, “considerable sacrifices that our great Union has made over the course of these negotiations, and will grant us the few propositions that we are extending today.”

Despite the growing desire to roll her eyes, Emrys maintained composure. Ziven was certainly starting on a bold foot this morning. 

“The Federation,” he continued, “denies our legitimate claims of mapping errors which detract from the expansion efforts that the Cardassian Union has worked toward for hundreds of years.” Varsek huffed loudly beside Emrys, a sentiment she shared although she wouldn’t show it – they hadn’t denied anything, they’d simply proven that their claims were unfounded. Ziven argued onward. “Despite this refusal, we are taking under consideration the request to finalize the border as it exists on Federation maps, despite the deleterious effects it will likely have on our nation.”

Emrys generally prided herself on her temperate nature; she was normally slow to anger and mostly unflappable. But almost a year of listening to Ziven make these kinds of arguments was starting to wear on her. “That is very gracious of you, Gul-Tar,” she asserted, her voice carrying strong and even across the room. “I assume that, in exchange for your acquiescence on that point, you would request additional allowances from the Federation on other points.” 

She paused, loath to detonate the room as she knew she was about to. “Bajor, perhaps?”  

The background hum of people shifting in their chairs and the occasional slide of water glasses against the table died down and a pall of utter silence settled over the room. All eyes darted to Ziven. He sighed dramatically.

“Please understand, Lieutenant Commander,” Ziven offered, an appeasing tone to his voice. Romar hummed quietly beside Emrys, an almost smug sound – Ziven was giving away just how important this objective was for him.

“Cardassia Prime is a planet with limited natural resources. Over the last two centuries, our people have faced famine, disease, and terrible poverty. We survived and came away stronger only because of our expansionist approach – we have successfully welcomed new worlds and new species in, to make a more perfect Union for us all, one in which we all distribute resources amongst each other to ensure the safety and prosperity of all of our citizens.”

Emrys had begun shaking her head before Ziven had even finished speaking. These outright lies were too much, even for Emrys. 

“And… the Federation is to believe that the Bajorans you’ve enslaved are safe and prosperous?”

One of Ziven’s eyes twitched – she could see it even from the far end of the table. But she didn’t give him the luxury of time to reply.

“Your continued occupation of Bajor is unacceptable,” Emrys declared, her tone sharp but unwavering. “It is a point of non-negotiation for continued peace with the Federation.”

Ziven opened his mouth to argue, but Emrys barreled onward, her hand held up to silence him. “I am well aware of Cardassia’s reliance on the materials that they… obtain,” she added, attempting to remove most of the derision from her voice, “from Bajor, and the Federation would be willing to help lessen the impacts of this transition with provision of certain resources, but the Federation can not, under any circumstances, remain on peaceful terms with an empire built upon oppression.” 

The room was quiet as Emrys finished, but she could feel the tension simmering below every Cardassian chest plate around the table.

“If I may, Gul-Tar,” Emrys ventured, leaning forward slightly in her seat for emphasis. “In addition to the significant cost that I am sure this occupation is creating for the Union, the Federation has received reports that the resistance on Bajor is only growing more fervent. Their continued plight is garnering sympathy from others – some of whom are not quite so diplomatic as the Federation and whom, I would imagine, would be quite happy to supply Bajor with materials needed to give the Union a run for its money.”

“If I recall correctly,” she added with emphasis, “I believe there have even been whispers that the power of the Bajoran Occupational Government is eroding, their stance against their own people softening.”

Ziven’s expression gave nothing away, but Emrys noted the uncomfortable look on the faces of the advisors seated closest to him.

Silence stretched onward, so Emrys opted to move forward with their demands, hoping that her reminder of the ways in which Cardassia’s occupation of Bajor was a greater cost than an asset had been effective.

“In addition to the cessation of the occupation, the Federation would require that the space station Terok Nor be surrend-”

“No.” The Gul-Tar’s voice boomed across the table and Emrys’ mouth snapped shut, her fingers clenched around the arms of her chair. 

Not wanting to risk losing ground, Emrys spoke up again. “To which part are you refusing, Gul-Tar?” 

“All of it.” He sat rigid in his chair across from Emrys, and she didn’t need Romar at her side to feel the anger coming off of him in waves. Many of the Cardassians seated by him began shooting concerned glances at one another. “The Federation demands too much,” he challenged, a sliver of a threat at the edges of his words.

The Cardassian seated directly to his right, Legate Domat, if Emrys remembered correctly, leaned close to Ziven, murmuring something to his leader before righting himself, his calm visage a sharp contrast to Ziven’s. A strained silence had settled over the room, everyone in attendance waiting with bated breath to see what might come next.

Beside her, Romar shifted in his seat, leaning closer to her as well. “He is reminding the Gul-Tar,” he whispered, “that the Union has expended significant resources in the course of the occupation and war and that they would be at a significant disadvantage in returning to combat with the Federation.” Emrys inclined her head towards Romar, meeting his calm gaze with lifted brow, once again grateful for exceptional Vulcan hearing. She studied her lap for a moment, trying to piece together her next move. With the Cardassians having little to bargain with themselves, she felt her confidence rebuilding. 

“Respectfully, Gul-Tar,” she began again, “the Federation has received reports of the working conditions and various… safety hazards on Terok Nor, which only reinforces the Federation’s insistence that Cardassia withdraw from Bajor. Releasing all Bajoran workers from Terok Nor would be a compulsory part of that withdrawal. And what purpose will a refinery station serve with no Bajorans to perform the operations of that station?” 

Ziven rose from his seat, despite Legate Domat’s hand on his forearm, perhaps trying to keep him calm. “Perhaps,” Ziven managed through gritted teeth, “you did not understand the gravity of my earlier explanations. Or perhaps… you simply were not listening.” Emrys fought not to roll her eyes and Varsek practically growled beside her. 

“Our Union relies on the uranium ore that is mined on Bajor and refined on Terok Nor. In destroying Cardassian efforts to expand and unite new planets with our Union, the Federation will be condemning innocent Cardassian citizens to the suffering of our past - to a future of famine and poverty.” Ziven had begun pacing behind his chair and even the Legates on either of his sides looked somewhat nervous. Emrys had to admit that this was the most agitated she’d seen Ziven in a while. She considered rethinking an approach – perhaps she needed to mollify him. There was, after all, a small but loud part of her that worried about what could happen if Ziven, or any of his men, truly snapped in this room. Would she survive it? 

But when she considered again what was at stake, recalling the detailed report from a Federation mole on Terok Nor, describing the truly hideous brutality there, she suddenly had no desire to offer Ziven anything. 

Straightening her back in her chair, Emrys interjected. “While I would hardly consider Cardassia’s forced occupation of other planets to be uniting them with your Union,” she responded sharply, and Ziven turned on his heel to face her, his expression murderous, “I was indeed listening to your shared concerns.”

Emrys rose, hating the feeling of being looked down on by the Gul-Tar. Clasping her hands behind her back so he would not see her fidgeting, she lifted her chin and continued. “As I stated earlier, the Federation is prepared to support the Cardassian Union in ensuring its people’s needs are being met. We are happy to assist with the provision of resources – perhaps our assistance will be useful as your Union determines how they might provide for themselves without enslaving others.” 

Ziven had begun making his way around the table, but Emrys refused to show fear. “The Federation would be willing to assist in the formulation of additional treaties and trade agreements that would offer Cardassia access to materials that you are sorely missing.” As Ziven stalked menacingly around the remaining corner of the table, two of his own men rose and called out to him and Romar stood to tower stoically in front of Emrys. Emrys heard, rather than saw, Varsek and a few other Federation members rise from their chairs as Ziven encroached upon their space. The heavy press of apprehension seemed to slow everything in the room.  

“I would advise against this course of action, Gul-Tar,” Romar warned calmly, his hands still clasped loosely before him. He was the picture of calm and for not the first time, Emrys wished she could appear as cool and collected as Romar. 

Ziven stopped just short of Romar, the two men evenly matched in stature, although Emrys knew Romar was much stronger than Ziven. Not that that would matter if Ziven had a weapon, she chided herself. Sighing, Emrys stepped up beside Romar, gazing at Ziven’s furious countenance. 

“We mean no offense, Gul-Tar,” she assured him patiently. “However, it would seem to us that the relinquishment of Terok Nor should be neither surprising nor debatable. If the Cardassian Union agrees to withdraw from Bajor, would it not also follow that they would need to release the Bajorans in residence on Terok Nor?”

Ziven glowered at her, his chestplate shifting rapidly with the rush of his breath. Emrys’ eyes flickered to his jaw working, as though grinding his teeth, her hands trembling behind her back.

A wad of spit shot from Ziven’s mouth, landing on the floor just before Emrys, the sound of it slapping the ground harsh in the quiet, cavernous room. 

Before Emrys could even process what was occurring, Romar had stepped behind her to secure Varsek, who had taken an offended stride toward Ziven. Every Cardassian in the room stood uneasily, the screeching of their chair legs against the floor cacophonous in Emrys’ otherwise stunned mind. With Romar occupied with a pissed off Varsek, Ziven leaned close for a moment, a deadly look in his eye as he hissed, “Hear me well, siml’vrerUj. Cardassia will never relinquish Bajor.” With that, he turned on his heel and marched from the room, leaving a host of edgy Cardassians and Federation members in his wake. 

Translations:

siml’vrerUj (seemul-vreh-roozh) - "filthy female"

[feetreadyheartbeatsteady]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

(posted a few days late because life hit hard after PTO ended. It's tragic how reading and writing fic isn't available as a full time job 🤣)

Thank you to @saranova and @skyfallscotland for the tags!

I've lost track of who has been tagged and who has not, so if you are in the FW fandom, I'd love to see yours!! It's been so much fun to read these.

How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

9,218

How many fics did you complete this year?

3!

that was the night i nearly lost you - rewrite of IF Chapter 27

but daddy i love him - an Onyx Storm prediction examining the Sorrengail sibling dynamic (with a little bit of Xaden mixed in)

if we go down - another Onyx Storm prediction where Xaden has a Moment™️ (as @serahadmoni so thoughtfully put it)

How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

1-2?

I'm hesitant to put this out there, but I'd like to add more to A Different Kind of Presentation! I have a few different ideas for where to go, but I write slowly and have been prioritizing my OS theories.

I also wrote a drabble based on if Xaden's hypothetical younger sister and Garrick were into each other. (Think Iron Flame revelations and the implications of Garrick's canonically mediocre shields.) Every now and then I'm tempted to expand this into something longer and more comical. Thank you to @softodettes for encouraging me down that rabbithole!

What was your favorite thing you wrote?

I love them all, but I'm going to say that was the night i nearly lost you since it's the first time I've shared creative writing publicly in a decade.

What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

Maybe the drabble? I don't think I've ever used that much dramatic irony but it was so much fun to write!

Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

The reaction to A Different Kind of Presentation was definitely a surprise, but very much appreciated!!

Who is an artist that inspired you?

I love @essjaywrites's creations 💖

Who is an author that inspired you?

So many kudos to @taumoebaa!! She was super encouraging and patient when I told her my idea for twtninly and I wouldn't have continued if not for her words of support.

Reading Fury by @skyfallscotland in the fall of 2023 also encouraged me to dive deeper into fandom and read Fourth Wing. Amy also always makes me feel so seen when it comes to mental health and it means the world to me 🖤

What are your creative goals for 2025?

Write a multi-chapter, 10k+ word fic!

[hazbin-proship-central]

as a valangel enjoyer i just wanted to share some valangel hcs

one of my fav hcs i have is that sometimes val will burn angel with his cigarettes whenever angel "misbehaves", but angel's fur covers up the burns well so no one notices

i also hc that angel's gold tooth came from one time when val punched him, val accidentally knocked his tooth out, and since val has a gold tooth as well he took it as an opportunity to have him and angel match

another thing i like to imagine, is that val and angel probably first met when angel and cherri were partying it up at a club one night, and i like to imagine maybe cherri had encouraged angel to talk to val (not knowing val was, y'know, a piece of shit) and so i like to imagine cherri partly blames herself for angel being in the situation he's in now, which is a part of the reason she always does what she can to help him or take his mind off things

and lastly, this one is a kin memory but regardless, in my memory val and angel had sex the night they met, like, mind-blowing good sex, and val was like "hey ;) ;) ;) you could be having sex like this all the time ;) ;) ;) if you just,,, y'know ,,, signed a contract with me ;) ;) ;)" and angel was tempted but hesitant at first, and so basically val offered him a week to work in the studio, no contract, just so he could see how he liked it, and that first week before he signed the contract everything was good, so he signed only for things to start getting worse and worse after he signed

also btw love ur account :] i think this is my first time sending in an ask but i've been following ur account for a while now and love all of ur posts

also i hope me adding a kin memory in with my hcs is okay!!! kin memories often influence a lot of my hcs i'm sorry ;;

Hi! Im glad you're enjoying my posts! I have a lot of fun reading what you guys send in. The Hazbin fandom can be so stuck up on being "moral" when it comes to ships and whatnot, and I think us proship/profiction hazbin fans deserve a place to express ourselves and have fun, outside of Ao3 lol.

That ValAngel cigarette headcanon is GOOD. I like that. Very angsty, also would be a good tactic for Valentino to "train" Angel (as you said, burning him when he misbehaves) into being and acting how he wants him to act. Also the gold tooth one is lovely too. What can I say? I love seeing fictional characters being used and abused haha

The Cherri headcanon makes a lot of sense! She gets so angry at Valentino for treating Angel so badly, then she remembers she was the one who indirectly got him into that situation in the first place. It just adds onto the pile of whatever other stressors shes dealing with that cause her to drug herself silly. She doesnt want to deal with the guilt.

Also, yeah you can share kin memories! i dont know much about fictionkin/otherkin, if that is even the right term for me to use, but youre welcome to share your kin memories here!

[wolfawaycamp]

Hello, I need a sequel fic to Jacob Goes to Taco Bell but with Jacob/burrito/Nick. The burrito is just the docking station. 🙏

🌦️ I'm so sorry. Don't read this unless you want what it says on the tin. crack treated…. seriously?????????? shout out to quarrydog on ao3 I guess. I'm so sorry also it's 5am when I'm posting this I think this can be attributed to delirium

Nick was very horny, very high, and— regrettably— he was actually considering the burrito. They were too gone to cook so Jacob had doordashed them some food (without consulting him on what), but surprisingly, Jacob had done nothing untowards with his burrito this time. He had some severe munchies, or something, and devoured it in seconds, and was now satisfied and nuzzling into Nick’s neck— not helping Nick’s poorly hidden boner.

Now, Nick was left with the partially unwrapped food in his hand, the warm, soft tortilla feeling almost like skin against his own. It was so tempting, now that the experience with Jacob had put the thought in his head. He really shouldn't. But— Jacob was pretty out of it right now and his eyes were closed. Maybe just a little touch would go unnoticed. Just to sate his curiosity. He wouldn't even breach the tortilla.

He nudged Jacob just to check— he groaned and curled in even closer. Nick was safe. He unwrapped the foil the rest of the way and then he pulled his dick out of his loose shorts. God, had he really been leaking in his boxers this whole time?

Feeling completely bizarre, he hesitated again. This was so weird.

But he was so horny. It was fine. Just a little bit.

He brought it to his length, and pressed them against each other side-by-side. The warmth was nice. He shifted experimentally, and bit back a moan. It kinda felt like a weird version of frotting, if he closed his eyes. He moved it against him again, and gasped a little with it.

“What’re you doin’,” Jacob murmured, and Nick froze.

“Um. Nothing?” Nick tried, staying completely still in the hopes that Jacob wouldn't notice what was going on.

Then, Jacob's hand was over his, on the burrito. “Feels better if you—” he guided Nick’s hand to hold it over his dick, pressing the folded-in divot against his tip— “have it like this,” he said, then pressed it down.

It parted around Nick’s cock, the fillings surrounding him with different textures. It was warm and it was wet and it had Nick whimpering against his will.

“I told you,” Jacob mumbled into his shoulder, still baked.

“You— fuck,” Nick groaned and Jacob kissed him, half-missing his mouth at first, sloppy yet sweet— earnest. Jacob turned Nick's body around to face him more.

“You're kinda gettin’ me going. Mind if I?” Jacob asked, and when Nick thought about the situation he was in, he came to the conclusion that letting Jacob have his fun too really didn't make this situation weirder, because nothing could.

“Fuck it— yeah, okay,” Nick said, feeling almost like his words weren't his own, and then Jacob was already pulling his dick out and lining it up to the other side of the burrito. He pushed right in, and Nick could feel the slide of Jacob’s length against his, held in close by the warm meat and rice of the burrito. Nick suddenly realised how glad he was that Jacob ordered him a mild burrito— even though he normally ordered his Mexican food spicy.

Jacob tenderly ran his thumb across Nick’s jawline with his free hand, looking at him as if he hung the stars. It was definitely the weed. Nick fell forwards into kisses, and closed his eyes. It really wasn't so bad with his eyes closed, Jacob's cock rubbing against his as they both fucked into their shared sleeve.

But it was hard to forget he was using sour cream as lube when he could still feel the tortilla in his grip and smell salsa in the air.

[stellanslashgeode]

ao3 wrapped [writer's edition]

1. How many words have you written this year?

266,592 so far but I'm not done yet.

2. How many works did you publish this year?

14, though I think 2 were carryovers from last year.

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

I'm really proud of how Way of the Mynock is turning out and it will definitely be my longest work. BUT overall, I am most proud of Permission to Come Aboard, Admiral because I was hesitant to dip my toe into the Thrawn series and it was well-regarded by that fandom and I was asked to put it into a Thrawn Rare Pairs collection. That just tickled me.

4. What work of yours has the most hits?

Way of the Mynock by far, only one to get over 2k which isn't a lot but I've only been at this two years so I'm pretty small. And it's not close to done so it'll just keep persevering.

5. What work of yours got more feedback than expected?

Dissonance and Upheaval has 40 comments and while half of them are my replies I'm tickled that something with such a wonky high concept engendered such engaged readers.

6. Favorite title you used?

Serpentes Tremens is one of which I am particularly proud. Poor little drunken snake.

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist did you pull from the most?

That's gotta be Kate Nash. Way of the Mynock wouldn't exist without Skeleton Song, though the chapter titles aren't exclusive to that.

8. Pairing you wrote most this year?

Only 4 out of 14 were not Barrissoka so I remain that bitch.

9. Favorite pairing you wrote this year?

Vampire Barriss and vampire hunter Ahsoka followed closely by Emerie Karr and Riyo Chuchi.

10. What work was the quickest to write?

I wrote I Love You, Fulcrum directly into the AO3 interface in under an hour.

11, What work took you the longest to write?

Dissonance and Upheaval took a lot of research, and I have to be in the right mood to get the vibe.

12. How many WIPs are you taking into next year with you?

I am hoping to get a few finished, but it looks like seven as well as four or five I have planned but haven't started.

13. What's your longest work of the year?

Way of the Mynock is at 82,571 and not even half done.

14. What's your shortest work of the year?

I Love You, Fulcrum is 756 words young.

15. What WIPs are you taking into next year with you?

idk how this one is different from 12. Way of the Mynock might not even be completed next year. I'm taking it into the Sequel Trilogy era and I'm still on Rebels/Andor. I am hoping Don't Get Captured, Dissonance and Upheaval, and Serpentes Tremens will get finished by the end of the month. Contrasts is giving me trouble. It will get done when it gets done. I haven't even finished the first chapter of The Convor and the Tooka Cat. Poor Operations Other than War is just lying there at the bottom of the ocean.

16. What is your most common "Additional Tags" tag.

Probably "Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon". I'm a slut for that one.

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

Tempted to say vampire Barriss but Emerie was really fun to write since she had some standout episodes but didn't get much backstory or closure in canon. NAH, nah scratch that. It's the Seventh Sister, actually. Both versions of her.

18. The character who gave you the most trouble this year.

Post-Tales of the Jedi Barriss. Still getting to know that girl. After having this version of her in my head post TCW it was hard to connect with new canon.

19. What's one paring do you want to explore next year?

I want to get more into Anidala, if I can find the time. I find them very easy to write and I want to explore the space since they're usually background in my work.

20. Which work of yours have you read the most?

Finishing up Dissonance and Upheaval has me reading the whole series over and over so I get the tone right.

21. How many kudos did you get this year?

482 which pleases the heck out of me as a small creator. That's over half my total!

22. Which work has the most comments?

Way of the Mynock at 52 so far.

23. Did you do any collaborative works this year?

No, but I will next year.

24. Did you write any gifts this year?

Three, same as the number of licks it takes to get to the gooey center of a Tootsie Pop.

25. Did you receive any gifts this year?

Nope, but it's not over yet!

26. What is your most common category?

A tie between Explicit and General Audience, which makes sense. They're usually the short one-offs.

27. What do you listen to while writing?

I often pick either one artist or genre for a story. Dusk of a Golden Age is all Dead Can Dance, for instance.

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

You know what, it's hard to choose but I think my words in her voice is my most personal and I am really happy with how it turned out.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

“Why, Miss Offee. You are sopping.”

30. Biggest surprise while you were writing this year?

I didn't expect to have so much fun writing a Sith character having a philosophical debate.

[somekndofnature]

Summary:

We're back in the present fam! Inuyasha and Miroku have a heartfelt talk and he does his best to convince Kagome to be their manager again. Kagome gets a first taste of the new music.

Notes:

Hello all! It has been a helluva week. This story has been my only escape and comfort. So, I hope you all enjoy. Might post another chapter later if I'm feeling cute. 🤪

Soooo... the music. There's a lot for this chapter. First, 'Little Lion Man' by Mumford & Sons and disclaimer: just because I still like songs from this band does not mean I agree with any of their personally held beliefs. It honestly feels weird that I need to type that but... better safe. Anyway, next is a song by Tim Minchin called 'The Absence of You'. Please look this up on YouTube. You won't regret it. The music is stunning. The next one is 'Panic Station' by Muse.

And finally, we get to 'hear' the first song from Inuyasha in this chapter. It is a song that I feel really portrays how he has felt the last six years without Kagome. So, if you would like to listen to the song, this is the YouTube link.

I hope those links work. I'm not exactly savvy with these things, but I'm learning!

AO3

Chapter 6: Is Ever What It Seems

Present day…

Inuyasha shook away the invasive memory of the first time he made love to Kagome, wondering what possessed his mind to conjure it in the first place. Not that he didn’t think about it… often . He found an enormous amount of comfort in reliving that peaceful moment.  This wasn’t the time, though, no matter how tempting. It wouldn’t do him any good to get his hopes up. He had a long way to go before she would trust him enough to be that vulnerable again. Not to mention, his pants were getting tight. The last thing he wanted was to greet her again with a full-blown erection—if Sango managed to convince her to stay.

“You look nervous,” Miroku said, interrupting his thoughts.

Inuyasha snorted. “Yeah. No shit, asshole.”

“Did you expect this to be easy?”

“No,” he snapped before crossing his arms over his chest with a dejected sigh. “I just didn’t realize how much I had hurt her. I mean, I’m not an idiot. I know it was a lot but—” 

You broke me. 

He shuddered.

Miroku took a deep breath. “Do you want my advice?”

“No,” he answered reflexively, before giving it more serious thought. Inuyasha sat forward and shrugged. “Uh… yeah.”

Miroku tossed his dark hair out of his eyes while fighting to suppress the smug smile curling at the corner of his mouth. Inuyasha’s stomach soured in an instant; maybe this was a mistake.

“Look, you arrogant prick, are you gonna be helpful or not?” he slumped back into his chair.

Miroku chuckled. “Take it slow. That’s my advice. It’ll take a while to rebuild things between you.”

“Keh, tell me something I don’t know.”

“Okay.” His friend sat a little straighter. “Kagome asks Sango about you all the time.”

Inuyasha’s head whipped towards him. “Really?”

“Yes,” Miroku said with a nod. “They spend quite a bit of time talking about you.”

“That’s a good sign, right?”

“I would think so,” he replied before reaching forward and grabbing his wrist. “Just… don’t get into something you’re not ready for.”

Inuyasha frowned. “I don’t—"

“Believe it or not, I understand your hesitation before,” Miroku explained. “Kagome is your mate. We’re talking about a lifetime commitment here.”

“So?” Inuyasha lifted one shoulder. “You’re doing that with Sango. You’re getting married.”

“Yes, but I’ve had other relationships before Sango,” he said. “How many women have you even been with?”

“What the fuck does that matter?” he sneered.

“Well, you always seemed very experienced from the outside,” Miroku replied. “But now I know that was all a lie.”

“Keh.” Inuyasha crossed his arms over his chest and tried to keep his irritation from boiling over. 

He wasn’t really mad at Miroku; he was mad at himself, at how badly he had fucked things up. This building rage was going to need an outlet and the only target for his anger was the hanyou that looked back at him from the mirror each morning.

“Seriously?” Miroku prodded. “You didn’t sleep with any of those women? Even Kikyou?”

A low growl built up in his chest. “No, not even Kikyou.”

“Wow. Why did she stick around for so long?”

Inuyasha rested his head against the wall behind him, fingers playing at the edge of his jeans pocket. “Mutually beneficial? She didn’t mind that we weren’t intimate so long as I supplied the good drugs. And there were times that I thought she played for the other team, but even relationships like that have their limits, I guess. I haven’t seen or heard from her since the night I OD’d—not that I really want to.”

“So, how was it mutually beneficial?” Miroku asked with a frown.

He shrugged. “She kept other women away for the most part.”

“Including Kagome…”

“Yeah,” he admitted quietly while his shoulders bunched with tension.

“So, how long has it been?”

His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Inuyasha,” Miroku said while rolling his eyes. “How long since you’ve been laid?”

“Christ, man!” He snapped, shoving his hand into his pocket and withdrawing the slim vape pen. “I’m sitting here baring my soul and that’s what you choose to focus on?”

Miroku gave him a moment to take a long pull and calm his already frayed nerves. “Level with me, how long?”

Inuyasha released a whispy cloud of vapor from his lips, rolling the herbaceous flavor around his tongue as his agitation lessened. “Almost six years, I think.”

His friend hissed in sympathy. “Ouch.”

“Got no one to blame but myself.” He snorted and took another hit. “Besides, that isn’t what I miss most about Kagome.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Miroku smile. “What do you miss the most?”

He inhaled from his pen again while staring at the entrance to the restrooms, willing her to reappear. “I miss talking to her. She always made me feel lighter… like I was finally at peace. She quieted my mind and taught me how to just… be. Whatever I felt—happiness, sadness, anger—I could just exist with them, could even manage to see the beauty in them, without fighting against it all the time.” He sighed. “Now, nothing seems beautiful. It all just passes right through me and leaves no imprint.”

Miroku remained quiet long enough for Inuyasha to get self-conscious. He wasn’t normally one to spew out such sappy romanticisms. He used his music to communicate with the world. It was easier to try and put all those feelings to a melody than say them straight to someone’s face. 

He took a cautious glance in Miroku’s direction and grimaced. He was moon-eyed and fluttering his lashes with a dreamy sigh.

“What?” Inuyasha sneered. 

“Sometimes you manage to say the most wonderful things to exactly the wrong person.”

“Huh?”

Miroku rolled his eyes. “I’m not the one you should be telling this to, dickhead. Save the sweet talking for the girls,” he hissed, gesturing over Inuyasha’s shoulder.

He whipped around, mouth going dry as he watched Sango and Kagome approach the table again with puffy red eyes. Jumping to his feet, Inuyasha was struck dumb. All the words that he had just spoken to Miroku swirled around in his head like a letter goulash.

Kagome looked at him with her brows raised in expectation. “Inu?”

“B-beautiful!” he said, loud enough for every head to turn in their direction.

Inuyasha heard Miroku snickering from behind him while Sango stared as if he had just lost several IQ points.

“What?” Kagome asked in a soft tone.

He cleared his throat as his gaze found the white tips of his Chucks. “You-you’re beautiful.”

“T-thank you.”

“I’m sorry that I lost my temper,” he said, working up the nerve to look her in the eye.

Kagome’s baby blues stared back at him with timid vulnerability in their depths. “I appreciate that.”

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” he whispered, reaching out to grab her fidgeting hand. “But you’ve never been worthless, Kagome. Certainly not to me.”

Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly as she released a shaky breath.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Miroku asked, interrupting the intimate moment. 

Every eye turned to him. Sango looked ready to throttle him, but Inuyasha was thankful for the distraction. There were so many things he needed to tell her; most of them too intimate for a public space like this. 

Kagome cleared her throat but didn’t pull away from him. Inuyasha rubbed his thumb along the back of hers. 

“The verdict is that I’ll listen to the music,” she answered before meeting his gaze. “Then I’ll decide.”

“Okay,” he said, leading her back towards her chair. “We can listen to it right now.”

“Ummm…”

“No can do, I’m afraid,” Sango interjected, coming to Kagome’s side and slinging an arm around her shoulders. “We have a previous engagement.” 

“What?! What engagement?”

His friend’s eye narrowed. “Kagome came here to have a relaxing time with a friend—i.e. me. So, we are going to get pampered.”

“Wait,” he said. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Kagome replied. “I’ll call you once I get home.”

“But—”

“Inuyasha, stop smothering her,” Sango snapped.

“I’m not,” he snarled in return.

Kagome swallowed hard and worked herself out of both their holds. “I’m gonna grab a coffee before we go.”

Flabbergasted, Inuyasha watched her go without complaint before turning his livid glare on Sango. “What the fuck? How can I win her back if I don’t even get to be around her?”

“Right now, that’s not my problem.”

A low growl built in his chest. “I thought you were gonna help me.”

“Inuyasha, calm down,” Miroku said from across the table. “Don’t make a scene.”

“Shut up! I want to know what the fuck she thinks she’s doing.”

Sango pursed her lips. “I’m trying to make up with my friend, if you don’t mind. You weren’t the only one who let her down, you know?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I chose you, Inuyasha,” she hissed. “Everything you put her through, and I knew about it all, but I chose you. I didn’t talk to her for over a year because I didn’t know how to apologize for that.”

Inuyasha’s jaw tightened as a new load of guilt landed heavy on his shoulders.

“Kagome’s right,” Sango continued. “She may have left, but we are the ones who abandoned her… after everything she did for us.” She looked between both the men at the table with their heads bowed in shame. “We have a lot of faith to rebuild between all of us.”

“Fine,” Inuyasha sneered, while reaching forward to unzip the front pocket of Kagome’s suitcase. 

“What are you doing?’ Sango asked with lingering irritation in her tone.

He fished around and withdrew her airline information, thanking every kami in existence that she hadn’t changed her travel habits. The woman was anal, with hardcopy backups of all her information. Pulling out his phone, he took a quick picture of the flight number.

“Inuyasha?”

“I’m not letting her get away that easy,” he replied, before packing everything away again.

He looked up with a smirk as Sango rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t sound creepy, at all.”

He scowled.

“What doesn’t sound creepy?” Kagome interrupted, coming up behind her with a paper cup in hand.

Inuyasha straightened, worried that he had been caught.

“Nothing,” Sango dismissed with a wave. “Let’s get going. I’m suffocating on the amount of testosterone in here.” 

She circled the table and snatched up her purse before leaning forward to give Miroku a quick kiss.

“Have fun,” he said with a smile.

Inuyasha stood when Kagome approached him and wrapped her arms around his middle. A lump lodged in his throat as he melted into the embrace. He squeezed her closer, memorizing the feel of her slender body and intoxicating scent.

Mine , his demon sighed in satisfaction.

She pulled away too soon and smiled up at him. “It was nice seeing you.”

“Yeah, you too. I’ve missed you, Kagome,” he said while nuzzling against her cheek.

He heard her sharp inhale before she admitted, “I miss you, too.”

Inuyasha almost sank to knees. “Then stay,” he whispered, cupping her face in his hand.

Kagome shook her head and took a step back. “I can’t, Sango and I have plans.”

“That’s right, bitch!” Sango interjected. “We are gonna tear shit up!”

Inuyasha tossed a glare in her direction.

“Just send me a link to the playlist,” Kagome said as she gathered her things.

“But,” he replied, feeling panicked at her inevitable departure. 

Both women took a step towards the door before he leapt forward and grabbed Kagome’s free hand.

“Wait!”

“Inuyasha?” She turned to look at him with her brow raised.

“Just, really think about it,” he pleaded. “I need you with me, Kagome.”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “I will. I promise.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Thank you.”

“Alright Romeo,” Sango said from beside her. “Now let her go. We’ve got places to be.”

It was harder than he thought, letting go of her hand. He wanted to hold onto her forever, but eventually he found the strength. He peeled his fingers from around hers and released her, returning Kagome’s wave as they slipped out the door. 

Inuyasha turned and walked back to the table before plopping into a chair and covering his face with his hands. “That went worse than I imagined.”

“Really?” Miroku said from across the table. “I thought it went well.”

“Keh, how d’ya figure?” he mumbled while dragging his fingers down his face.  

His friend shrugged. “She didn’t refuse.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “She was just too nice to do it twice in one sitting. You know how ‘Gome is; she’s too sweet for her own good.”

“Have a little more faith in her, Inuyasha,” Miroku chastised. “You asked her to think seriously about it and I’m sure she will.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better,” he grumbled. 

A heavy silence settled between them for several long moments. Inuyasha tried to muster any feelings of hope but only managed a mild dread. He slumped further in his chair with a sigh. 

The shroud of despondency that was his constant companion had lifted in Kagome’s presence but was quickly retaking its rightful place. Her light and happiness had shined on him for only a moment, warming him from the inside out. Now, he was growing cold once more. A shiver stole through him.

The scraping sound of Miroku’s chair across the wood floor pinned his ears against his head with irritation.

He circled the table and stopped in front of Inuyasha. “What are you doing today, besides wallowing in self-pity?”

“I don’t wallow,” he sneered while crossing his arms over his chest.

“You do,” Miroku deadpanned. “And it’s unhealthy.”

“Fuck off.”

Instead, his friend stuck out his hand. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“I’m not gonna let you sit here and lick your wounds all alone,” Miroku said, grabbing his wrist. “The girls went out to have some fun and so should we.”

Inuyasha reluctantly let his friend pull him onto his feet. “Fun?”

“Yes, fun,” he replied while dragging him towards the door. “You know, what normal people do to cheer themselves up when they’re feeling down.” 

Inuyasha rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath but allowed his friend to lead him out of the coffee shop and onto the busy sidewalk. He cocked one ear towards Miroku’s yammering, just barely managing to grunt or nod at the right time. His attention was elsewhere.

He dug his phone out of his pocket and typed in a quick Google search; Inuyasha had a flight to book.

--------------------------------------------------------

Kagome pushed through her hotel room door with a grunt and flipped on the first switch she could find. Soft light filled the generic beige space, somehow managing to look both inviting and spartan at the same time. She was used to frequent travel and lonely hotel rooms, but tonight the emptiness settled in her gut like a cold ball of lead. 

She let the door slam closed behind her and wrestled her small rolling bag down the short hallway, stopping by the bed. Kagome collapsed onto the mattress and fell back with an exhausted sigh. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much; she hadn’t realized just how much she missed her friend. It had been so fulfilling to spend time with Sango, but now that she was alone, all the emotions that she had suppressed throughout the day were coming back to haunt her. 

The betrayal that she originally felt upon showing up in the coffee shop still lingered, despite Sango’s multiple apologies. Kagome couldn’t help it. Even when she was trying to make positive and healthy changes in her life, Inuyasha’s shadow haunted her. She was trying to move on, to put the past behind her, and yet all her efforts were futile. The past demanded reconciliation, no matter how hard she tried to run from it. 

Kagome sat straight and squared her shoulders, reminding herself that she was the only one who governed the course of her life, nothing else. In the end, the decision that she was contemplating was hers alone to make. She had power; she had agency. Her future was completely in her control.

Feeling a little more settled, she turned to her suitcase and unzipped it, withdrawing her pajamas and toiletry bag. She kicked off her shoes and padded towards the bathroom, pausing next to her purse. Through the slightly gaped opening, she saw her phone screen shine back at her.  

Inuyasha had sent her a link to his playlist while she and Sango were getting manicures. Kagome had managed to ignore the gnawing curiosity until now, but it was calling to her. She picked up the phone and opened the link, brow raising when she saw only four tracks in the queue. 

She dug her ear buds out of her purse and popped them in before selecting one at random. The first notes began to play as she headed into the bathroom, their heaviness and deep tenor startling her. It was out of the norm for the punk singer. 

Kagome dropped her items on the counter, brow furrowing as she listened. It was rough and she could tell that Inuyasha had played all the instruments. The bass wasn’t as smooth as when it was in Sango’s hands and the percussion lacked Miroku’s childlike thrill, but it was still impressive… and different. 

Inuyasha’s raspy voice held a festering pain, instead of the usual irreverent sarcasm.  As she listened to lyrics that seemed to be pulled straight from his soul, her heart twisted. She could feel the raw vulnerability in his words and ached along with him. The story he told was full of regret and the same struggle that every sentient being on the planet toiled through; the struggle to accept yourself. 

Tears welled in her eyes, but Kagome forced herself into her normal bedtime routine, removing her makeup and washing the day away from her face while trying to convince herself that the moisture on her cheeks came only from the water. She dressed in her dark green sleep shorts and black tank top before crawling back into bed and flipping off the light just as the last track began to play. It started with the humming silence of white noise before being broken by Inuyasha’s deep voice.

“I haven’t showed this to others yet because…” He paused for a long moment. “Well, it’s rough… but so far, I think it tells you everything you need to know.”

He took a deep breath and Kagome heard the subtle stilted entry of a bass in the background for several seconds. She began to relax before his urgent voice whispered into her ear.

“ Paralyzed, going out of my mind, can’t seem to help myself …” he trailed off before returning with the same anxious tone. “ Hear your voice, see your face, call your name, stuck in a living hell .” 

Her breath hitched as his tenor turned desperate, growling the last few words as if they pained him.

“ And I sleep just to leave this reality,” he crooned without giving her a reprieve. “Then I wake and it takes you away from me. I can't believe you and I are out of time; I never said goodbye. ”

There was a pause where it felt like something was missing, a beat of silence that yearned for a voice before the crash of a guitar blared.

“ You were the only thing worth living for! ” he half-sang and half-shouted. “ How could you go and leave me here; I’m all alone! ” Several heavy power cords sounded in rapid succession. “ So, I walk this earth half-alive, til the day I die. I’m killing time, killing time…for you.”

Kagome threw her headphones off before a sob burst from her lips. The absence of Inuyasha’s voice both soothed and tore at her. The emotion in his words matched hers; she had so many regrets, so much that she wanted to say to him. Her hand was reaching for her phone and dialing his number before she could think better of it. She heard it ring twice before being answered.

“’Ello,” Inuyasha rumbled from the other side of the line.

Her throat constricted; she didn’t know what to say. A breathy whimper burst from her lips.

She heard the rustling of fabric. “Kagome? What is it? What’s wrong?”

The blatant concern in his tone ripped a trembling breath from her chest.

“Kagome! Are you okay?” he asked, his worry palpable even over the phone. “Baby, you gotta answer me.”

“I-I’m fine,” she choked out, the frantic endearment making her heart ache.

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“I just… had a nightmare,” she fibbed through tears.

He released a relieved breath. “And you called me?”

“I shouldn’t have,” Kagome blubbered. “S-sorry, I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“No!” He bit out a quiet curse. “I don’t mind. What was your nightmare about?”

“I-I-I don’t even remember,” she fumbled. “I just woke up crying and needed to hear your voice.”

“Does that happen often?”

“What?” she replied with a watery laugh that held no trace of humor. “The waking up crying or needing to hear your voice?”

“Both.”

Her voice cracked as she answered, “Yeah, actually.”

“Dammit,” he hissed. “This is difficult.”

“What is?”

Inuyasha huffed in frustration; she could picture him running a hand through the shaggy bangs around his face. “Listening to you cry like this without being able to hug you.”

Her heart swelled. “Would you? If you were here?”

“Baby, say the word and I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he replied in a low tone that sent shivers through her.

Kagome tensed. “No, we shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it won’t do anything except make me feel more confused than I already am,” she whined. “I shouldn’t have even called you.”

“You can call me anytime, day or night.”

“So could you,” she accused. “And yet you never have.”

“It’s not the same,” he explained.

“How?”

“Because I’m the one who fucked up,” Inuyasha replied in a heated tone. “I have no right to come strolling back, asking for a place in your life, especially if you’ve already moved on and are happy.”

“And yet you got Sango to lure me here for this surprise attack?”

He growled. “It wasn’t supposed to be like that.”

She ignored his flimsy excuses and scoffed. “Well, what if I am happy?” Kagome lied through her teeth. “What if I have moved on without you?”

Inuyasha went alarmingly quiet for several moments. “Is that true?”

Her grip on the phone tightened as she bit at the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t do it; she couldn’t lie to him again.

“’Is it?” he snapped, making her jump.

“What does it matter?” she cried. “Things are what they are. You made your choices, and I made mine. That’s the end of it.”

“We both know that’s bullshit,” he hissed. “It matters to me. I want you with me ‘Gome… and I want you happy.”

The heartfelt sentiment, so close to what she had heard moments before on that playlist, pulled another sob from her throat. “I don’t know if you can get both.”

“Gimme a fuckin’ chance, at least!”

She flinched and sucked in a sharp breath at the anger in his voice. “I should go.”

“No!” he shouted before tempering his tone. “I just—I just need you to give me a chance. You said you would really think about it, but it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

“I haven’t,” she assured him. “I’m keeping my promise.”

“Have you even listened to the music?” he asked, reminding her of their first meeting.

Kagome paused, thinking back over her emotional experience with it. “Umm.. not yet. I haven’t had the time.”

“Keh,” he scoffed. “If you’re not going to take this seriously then—”

“I am taking it seriously,” she interrupted. “If you recall, I was off the clock today, spending time with a friend. I’ll get back to work when, and if, I feel like it.’

“So, you’re basically telling me to go fuck myself,” he drawled.

“No, of course not. I’m saying it’s my life, Inuyasha,” she replied. “I’ll decide what type of toxic situation I step into.”

“I’m not fuckling toxic!” he shouted before his mouth audibly snapped shut.

Kagome sighed and rubbed at the headache forming behind her eyes. “This conversation is getting us nowhere. I should go.”

“Wait,” he pleaded. “Are you feeling any better?”

Her brow furrowed. “What?

“Your nightmare,” Inuyasha explained. “Do you think you’ll be able to get back to sleep?”

A reluctant smile found Kagome’s lips. “Yeah, I do. Thank you.”

“Keh, don’t thank me,” he dismissed. “I’ve probably only reminded you why you left in the first place.”

She hummed. “Quite the opposite actually.”

“What does that mean?”

“To be honest,” she murmured. “I haven’t felt this alive in six years.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

The silence stretched between them for several long moments before she released a pent breath.  “Goodnight, Inuyasha.”

“I’ll be seeing you,” he replied cryptically. “Get some sleep, ‘Gome.”

She hummed in a non-committal tone. “I’ll do my best… bye.”

The phone beeped twice before going silent. She still felt lonely but a little warmer than before. Something about Inuyasha’s attitude caused an unbidden hope to bloom in her heart, no matter how hard she fought against it. 

Kagome sighed and turned on her alarm before flipping off the light switch. She had a flight at eleven in the morning that she couldn’t miss. Then she could put all of this history behind her where it belonged and make a decision with a clear head. 

  She slumped against the mattress and tried to ignore the ghost of Inuyasha’s scent that her mind conjured from ephemera. He still smelled so good, inviting her to nuzzle and snuffle against him like some love-struck bitch. Kagome groaned at her own thoughts; she couldn’t be this far gone already, right?

She turned and punched the terrible hotel pillow into submission before settling on its lumpy corpse. Kagome tried to ignore the ominous darkness pressing in around her as she hunkered into the covers. She didn’t want to admit to herself how desperately she wanted Inuyasha’s arms to encircle her or how much safer she would feel within them.

[arosebetweenpages]

AO3 Wrapped (Writer's Edition)

All questions taken from This Post. I was very hesitant to post the whole thing, as it's already going to be fairly long. Tagging @adoenamedjane @thebarghestiest for fun.

How many words have you written this year? Approximately 149,757 words. Not counting unpublished drabbles and scratchpad ideas.

How many works did you publish this year? One WIP and six one-shots. I'm also about to publish another before the end of the year.

What work are; you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)? I'm really proud of Welcome to Maid Latte. This is the most I've ever written for a fic, the most chapters I've ever finished without abandoning, and I have no plans to abandon it.

What work of yours has the most hits? The most hits, is Welcome to Maid Latte with 4,800

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? A Disparity of Events got a lot more feedback than I expected, and the majority of the comments were such good substantial comments! I was so excited to get every last one of them.

Favorite Title you used? My favorite title was definitely "A Practical Proposal."

If you use song lyrics, which artist songs did you pull from the most? This year, I used equal parts Bon Jovi, Matchbox 20, Taylor Swift, Hozier and Lady Gaga.

Pairing you wrote the most for this year? Sirius/Hermione

Favorite Pairing you wrote for this year? Sirius/Hermione

What work was the quickest to write? The Quickest write this year was between A Night in the Hospital Wing and A Practical Proposal

What work took you the longest to write? Maid Latte, hands down.

How many WIPs do you have in your docs for next year? I have two WIPs in my drafts that I plan to start next year.

What's your longest work of the year? Maid Latte.

What's your shortest work of the year? A Practical Proposal

What WIP are you taking into next year with you? Maid Latte and Just Within a Glance

What your most common "Additional Tags" tag? "Idiots to Lovers" and "Sirius Black needs a hug"

Your favorite character to write this year? I have really loved writing for both Luna Lovegood and Ron Weasley.

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? I struggle writing Harry Potter. And surprisingly, Sirius was hard, too.

What's one pairing you want to explore next year? I'm tempted to start some Emily Wilde fic - Emily and Wendell. Think I might experiment with Marak/Kate from the Hollow Kingdom Series because the Hollow Kingdom coffers are woefully barren.

Which work of yours have you reread the most? I have reread A Practical Proposal a lot, but it's between that one and Too Sweet.

How many kudos in total did you get this year? 990 Kudos

Which work has the most comments? Maid Latte - 90 Comments. This includes my responses, so do with that what you will.

Did you do any collaborative works this year? No.

Did you write any gifts this year? No.

Did you receive any gifts this year? One gift! Tialovesbooks01 started writing The Ties of Time based on a plot bunny I posted to the Strictly Sirimione Facebook Group. It's still WIP, but I love it.

What's your most common category? This year I really leaned into Harry Potter after nearly a decade. It feels nice to come back to it.

What do you listen to while writing? A lot of Chappel Roan. And Matchbox 20.

Favorite work you wrote this year? I love all my fun one shots this year! I especially really loved You and I. That one lived in my head for about three months before I finally wrote it down. All hail Gaga.

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? From Maid Latte, Chapter 12

Sirius silently took another drag. He never responded. "Sirius?" "I'd never forgive myself if she went out in the field unprepared. If something happened to her." "She's not your responsibility, Padfoot." He was silent again. The yellow butt of his cigarette slipped between his fingers and landed by his boot. Both cousins started at it for a moment before he stomped it out. "I have to keep her safe," he muttered. Dora only scrutinized him further, one eyebrow raised significantly over the other. She stared him down. "Why her?" He met her gaze with a stony, unaffected one of his own. She would have found him completely emotionless had it not been for the tick near his jaw - the tell-tale sign of all Black's. "I see," was all she said. He stood, wiping the dirt of his trousers and made for the door, expecting Lily to call out that dinner was ready at any moment. As his hand was reaching for the screen door, though, Dora spoke again. 'Siri, do you believe in soul-" "Don't be stupid, Dora," he said. Then, much quieter, "She's with someone else." Later, as they all sat around the table, chatting and laughing and digging into the roasted chicken, Sirius noticed this was the second Sunday Ron had missed.

Biggest surprise while writing this year? A shameless plug for Soulspace (which will be posted later this very month) turned out much longer than I anticipated. I also am incredibly surprised by the turn the story took, because I hadn't originally planned any of the parts that contribute to the plot's resolution.

[scienceoftheidiot]

My dear @qs63 prompted me yesterday to write a short Post Promised Day kiss, and before I turned around this one shot was 2,5K long.

You can read it on AO3 or under the cut here, since it's a prompt (but... Not that short 😅) ⬇️

The phone startled Roy awake. Disoriented, he got up in a hurry, groaned when he blindly walked into the door, pawed at the wall to find the light switch, put the lights on, and ran to the living room, blinking under the sudden harsh light.

He had no idea what time it was, where he was, who it could be - probably late at night, his apartment in Central, and at this time, the only person who could call was -

"Yes?"

"Brigadier General."

He still had to get used to that.

The title reminded him of Hughes. His posthumous promotion. Everytime he was called this way, a shudder climbed up his spine. He hoped it would ease with time.

But what was more important, was who was calling him.

"Hawkeye? Is that you?"

"Uh. Yes. Sir."

Roy passed a hand on his face, his sensitive eyes squinting under the bright living room light. That slight hesitation. He knew what it was. Placing the receiver at the crook of his neck, he pulled on the phone to take it with him as he went on a search for his trousers - his watch was in the pocket.

The cord was too short. His trousers were in his bedroom. And he had nothing else to ask to Hawkeye - asking her how she was doing was out of question.

"What time is it?"

"If it's too late, sir, I can -"

"No, no, I can't find my watch, is all."

"In your trousers right pocket. If I remember well, you also have a spare one in the second drawer of the chest in your living room."

"You're the best, Hawkeye." The phone cord was long enough for him to reach the drawer.

Two am. Roy frowned. It wasn't right, it wasn't right at all.

"I can't decide if you're very early or very late, Captain."

"I'm sorry, I --"

"Easy. I'm just teasing."

Mustang, stop with the fucking banter.

"Nightmare?"

"I just... Needed to hear your voice."

Roy's hand tightened on receiver. For her to admit this, it must have been one hell of a nightmare, indeed. He lowered his voice, trying to sound more soothing than his usual tease.

"I'm here, Hawkeye. In one piece. Everything works more or less like it should, too."

"Yes. I can hear that. Thank you."

"My pleasure, Captain."

Silence.

"I think I'll hung up, now."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. You need to sleep. I'm sorry to have -"

"You do, too, you know? Need to sleep."

"I'll be okay."

"Captain Hawkeye calling me at two am means she's very not okay, you know. Ask anyone. They'll tell you this."

"I don't want just anyone knowing I call you in the middle of the night, sir."

"Well, ask me, and I will tell you you're not okay and you shouldn't hung up just yet."

Silence. But she didn't hang up.

"Hawkeye?"

"I think I need - nevermind. I should -"

"You know what, I think we should go out one of these days. With the team, I mean -" he added quickly. "Have a glass or two. We haven't really since -"

"Since the boys threw a party to celebrate you and Havoc's healing."

"Yeah, and I asked you to take me back after an hour cause my head was going to explode, so I didn't really enjoy it that much, remember?"

"I do. And yes, it - it's a nice idea."

There was something loaded, there. She sounded like she wanted it, but like she was also disappointed.

"Hawkeye?"

"...Sir?"

"Did you mean you needed to see me just now?"

Yet another silence.

Roy was tempted to add something, anything, to stop her from hanging up on him, to stop her from returning to her bed or her sofa or anywhere in her flat as alone and lost and upset as she sounded. But he also knew that if he said anything, there, then she would never admit it.

"... Yes?"

Roy felt his shoulders slump and something warm twist under his ribs. He had to blink away a speck of dust in his eye - definitely dust, damn his eyes for being so sensitive nowadays.

"Come. I'll put the water to boil."

Roy had started to worry a little, pacing back and forth in his kitchen, when he heard the knocks. He opened the door on a very sorry looking and literally drenched Hawkeye.

His first reaction was to step towards her, intent on hugging her, stopping himself at the last second, and closing his mouth on the "Oh, Riza..." that threatened to go past his lips.

"You should have told me it was raining, I hadn't noticed. I'd have come to pick you up with the car."

"It's okay. I think I needed a walk."

Roy suspected she'd taken so long because she'd turned around multiple times, unable to decide if she should act on his offer or not. An irrational feeling of pride washed over him, but he couldn't tell if it was for her or himself.

He noticed her eyes didn't leave him, following his every move, ever since he'd opened the door.

One hell of a nightmare.

Roy cleared his throat, taking her coat from her shoulders. She let him do so. To Roy, she felt like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Make yourself at home. I'll fetch you a towel for your hair."

He turned around, feeling her eyes boring through his back.

It was a rare occurrence, but it happened that one of them decided to call the other in the middle of the night, needing to speak, share, with someone who knew what they had gone and were still going through. They usually just sat at either side of the room, silent, a warm cup of tea in hand.

But not alone. Together.

The tea had long infused, and Roy gestured for Riza to sit as he left the towel on the small kitchen table, and went to pour two cups. He gave one to her. Her hands, reddened and dried by the cold outside, curled immediately around it.

He sat at the other side of the table. They waited in silence for the tea to cool down enough to be drinkable.

After a while, Roy took a tentative sip and a no less tentative step.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Hawkeye had stopped trying to drill holes through him with her eyes, and was now intently looking at her cup. She did not look up from it, and took her time to reply, her voice very small.

"No."

Rainwater dripped from her bangs onto the table. The towel laid untouched next to her hands.

Roy took another sip from his tea, and got up. He circled around the table, and took the towel.

"May I?"

Hawkeye had a sharp nod. Almost invisible. But, after all, they had known each other long enough.

Standing behind her, he freed her hair from the clip she always wore - not without fumbling a little with it, with his still healing hands, and the clip metal being soaking wet. Honey hair, darkened by water, cascaded on her shoulders. Ever so gently, he gathered it in one hand, applying the towel to it with the other.

He did notice her shoulder tense, then relax, slowly.

Once her hair stopped dripping, he put the towel aside, and tried to untangle the silky strands with his hands. That wouldn't do.

"Coming back."

Another sharp nod, before he saw Hawkeye finally drink her tea from the corner of his eye as he turned to the bathroom again.

His own terribly straight and thick hair was pretty easily untangled by hand most of the time, but he did keep a brush somewhere for the days where he had to look at least a little better dressed.

Hawkeye had not moved when he came back, but her cup was empty. He refilled it without a word, then went to work on her hair.

The silky strands under his fingers reminded him of the last time he'd done this - the first, also. That wasn't long ago.

In the hospital, after a couple of days, Hawkeye had grown frustrated. Her hair was tangled, still matted in places, and with the cut in her neck, and her overall weakness, she couldn't brush them properly, nor tie them so they wouldn't annoy her and brush against the bandage on her nape.

She had not said anything, but Roy could feel it.

He didn't need to see her, then, to know something was annoying her, tensing her more than she was already, and after a little asking and prying, that almost turned into harassment, he'd managed to extract the information from her.

That was so simple. And not as if he didn't know how to care for long hair - his sisters had

made sure he helped them get ready quite often when he was a kid.

Of course, his hands were not as deft as they used to be, and at this moment he couldn't see, but you didn't need to, just to brush hair. He'd offered to help, and it took a little convincing, but Hawkeye had finally accepted and let him take the brush from her hand. And he could tell from her stance, the little humming sounds she made - probably consciously, for his benefit - that she enjoyed it, in the end.

He realized as he passed his fingers through her wet hair that he had closed his eyes, reliving the feeling he'd had back then, the touch of her hair, the warmth of her body being so close. It was a moment he would remember as pure happiness. A moment of bliss amidst bleak times, that would for ever shine in his memory, even if it had only been experienced through touch and sound and smell. Maybe because it had been so.

A smile pulled at his lips as he opened his eyes again, now able to enjoy the warm colour of Hawkeye's hair as well as it's softness.

As he reached for a couple of stray bangs, his fingers brushed against the side of her neck, and the scars that were now crossing it. Hawkeye immediately brought her shoulders up, tilting her head backwards, protecting the tender, still very pink skin there. Roy stilled.

"Sorry. Does it hurt, still?"

Riza answered with another question, but let her shoulders slump down.

"Do yours?"

Roy repressed a small chuckle. That wasn't funny.

"Of course they do. I can barely hold that damn hair brush, after filling paperwork all day. And I did most on the typewriter."

"Don't tell me you've found a new way to try and escape paperwork, sir."

"I don't think you'd let me, anyway."

Roy was done with her hair. It was drying, gaining more shine and becoming lighter in colour and under his fingers as it did so. But he didn't want to leave. He didn't want to let go of Hawkeye's hair, of the proximity it gave them, of just being able to touch her.

So he kept brushing, even if, yeah, his hands hurt. But he saw her close her eyes under his touch as he tilted his head to the side. It was definitely worth it.

"You don't like me using your new rank."

Roy blinked. The question had come out of nowhere, in a voice that was a little more assured than it'd been when Hawkeye had entered his flat. He sighed.

"I'm not going to lie to you."

"Because of Hughes."

"Yes."

Roy, still standing behind Hawkeye, his hands still now mostly playing with her hair rather than brushing it, expected the conversation to die there.

"I think he'd be proud of you."

Roy let go of her hair, to place his hands on her shoulders. Hawkeye and Hughes never really had what would have been called a relationship - and would have absolutely never interacted if not for Roy himself being friends with both. Hughes considered Roy's fondness for Hawkeye as an impediment on his way to find his perfect wife, and Hawkeye disapproved of Hughes's loudness, his constant boasting and his berating of Roy on the same subject - there was no jealousy there, only professionalism on her part.

Or, rather, mostly professionalism.

So to hear her talk about Hughes, and with such a tone of voice, was uncommon. But it made that warm twist in his gut rise again.

"I think you're right."

Silence, again. A comfortable silence, at least on Roy's part, that Hawkeye pulverized into millions of sharp pieces.

"You died."

Roy froze, the warmth disappearing.

"In my nightmare. You died in my arms, and - and I couldn't tell if the one who'd shot you was an enemy or myself. You kept telling me it wasn't my fault, while blood poured out of your mouth and you were clutching at my shoulders. But I think it was. I think it was me who shot you. And then you died. It took a long time. It… I…"

Hawkeye's hands were slightly shaking around the newly empty tea cup, and Roy could feel the tremors in her shoulders. First, he pushed on them, trying to put some weight on her, to ground her, show her he was there, then he changed his mind.

He couldn’t tell her that he knew exactly how she felt, for he’d experienced it not too long before, for real, and that every other night, he went through more or less the same dream. Her dying in his arms, with no way to prevent it from happening. Alone underground. Her blood smeared on her clothes, her face, his hands. The very real image of her blood dying her hair red, engraved in his mind, for weeks, while he was blind to everything else.

Roy tried to repress the shiver that crept up his spine and closed its icy hands around his throat. Now was not the time to tell her that. She needed him to be stronger than her, right now. Nor would he tell her that he had, in fact, gone so far as to pick up the phone a week prior, only to place it back down before calling her number.

He took her hand and gently pulled her up, seeing with a pang of sadness that she still behaved like a stringless puppet, following his push without showing neither want nor dislike.

"Look at me, Riza."

The surprise at him using her first name seemed to pull her out of her torpor, and she looked him in the eye.

"Good. Look. I'm here. All in one piece. You didn't shoot me." Unsure of where to place his hands, he put them on her waist - a light touch, as if they were at a formal dance. He wouldn’t dare anything more intrusive than that. "You never did. You came close ... But you didn't have to. You pushed me back on the right track. You always do. And I always follow."

He could get lost in her dark amber eyes for hours if he had nothing else to care about. But he had to care for her, right now. And he couldn't bear the fact that these eyes were rimmed red. Slowly, he brought his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close. He let out a sigh as her own arms circled his waist and he nudged his head in the crook of her neck - careful to choose the right side. She rested her forehead on his shoulder, and spoke low.

"I'm supposed to be the one who follows. Not the other way around."

"You perfectly know I keep turning back to ask you directions."

"I thought it was to check if I was still there."

"No. I trust you too much to ever doubt that."

They stood still, huddled together, for a while. Then Roy stepped back.

“Are you feeling better?”

Riza sniffed against his chest.

“Yes.”

“Let me see.”

He brought his hands to the sides of her face, tilting her head so their eyes would meet again. Her features were less tense, but not fully relaxed yet.

“I think there’s still some way to go.”

Stroking her cheeks with his thumbs, he kissed her forehead lightly, taking in the smell of her hair, and the softness of her skin. When he pulled back, she had closed her eyes, and some of the remaining tension had left her face.

Smiling, he placed his hands back on her waist, where they were before.

“Why don’t we sit?”

Hawkeye frowned again, ruining his efforts. But it was only for a couple of seconds.

“We should sleep. I should go home. I just needed to check on you, to be sure. We both need to sleep.”

“We’ll sleep when we’re dead.” Roy tried a mock frown, and rested his forehead against hers, black locks of hair mixing with honey bangs. “Or when we fall asleep on the couch. Either way, I’m not letting you go.”

“Is that an order?”

That warm twist again. Hawkeye’s dry smile was back.

“I could make it so.”

“Let’s sit, then.”

[deistarr]

Tags I honestly appreciated on AO3 (various fandoms):

The Canon Did Not Spark Joy | So I Made It My Bitch

If The Canon Does Not Spark Joy Throw It Out

Scott McCall Can Have A Braincell. As A Treat.

Relationship Pairing: Albus Dumbledore/His Ginormous Ego

Lan Wangji's Canonical Inability To Tell The Difference Between Instant Hatred & Instant Attraction

LWJ Gets Sexually Aroused For The First Time | He Mistakes The Feeling For Murderous Rage | It's A Very Confusing Time For Him

Fix-It Via Accidental World Domination

Accidental Overlord Tony Stark

LWJ Can Punch JC In The Face. As A Treat.

JC's Canonical Torture Habit

Gender: Tired - Sexually Attracted To: Beds

Everyone Deserves Better | Except For JC | He Can Suffer

Fluffy Vore-Adjacent Behaviour

Please note that this list is by no means comprehensive. It just contains the ones I remember off the top of my head at this moment.

Some of my favourite tags that I have used:

(Not So) Secretly A Virgin

Tiny Time-Travel Hell-Child

LXC Has The Braincell | Oops | No He Doesn't

Now With A Hundred Percent More WangXian!

Albus Dumbledore Is Not Actually Evil | He's Just Very Bad At Being A Decent Person

OC Was Not Expecting Reincarnation | Again | She Wants To Know Why Fate Keeps On Giving Her A Penis

The Genitalia That Must Not Be Named

If You Didn't Want To Be Blackmailed | You Shouldn't Have Done It | Sounds Legit

Hello Alcoholism | My Old Friend

LWJ Tries To Be Good | He Fails | To Be Fair | WWX Is Terribly Tempting

For A Fic Without Any Sexual Content Some Of These Tags Sound Incredibly Inappropriate

Mostly Canon Compliant | Except That Lan Xichen Actually Got Laid

Lans Gone Wild(TM) | Featuring Nie Mingjue As: The Voice Of Reason

Body-Swap Gone Wrong | AKA | That Fic Where Wei Wuxian Pees Lan Zhan's Pants

It Doesn't Have To Be Biologically Possible They're Hybrids Karen

Lan Xichen Can Have A Little Harem. As A Treat.

Jin Zixuan The Beautiful Lan/Jiang Sect Concubine

Nie Huaisang Saves The Day | He's As Surprised As Anyone

I Wrote This Instead Of Sleeping | Then Fell Asleep Instead Of Posting It

LWJ Stabs His Father | Non-Lethally But Still | It's Surprisingly Cathartic

The Mortifying Ordeal Of Discussing Your Sex Life With Your Family

Trip To The ER With Something Stuck Inside Your Dick | Somehow Everyone You Know Shows Up | Thanks Huaisang | That Was Not Actually Helpful

That Moment When Everyone Learns TMI About Your Sex Life

Lan Xichen Accidentally Starts A Revolution In The Lan Sect | This Was Not Supposed To Happen | Rebel Leader!LWJ

Lan Wangji Needs Friends | Xichen Just Never Expected Him To Make Them This Way | This Is Not Going As Planned

Asexual Relationship | Where Neither Of Them Are Actually Asexual | This Is What We Call A Lack Of Communication

BAMF Nie Mingjue | Why Is That Not Already A Tag? | That's Basically His Entire Personality | I'm Feeling Very Insulted On His Behalf

Nie Mingjue Pretty Much Lives To Kick Ass & Take Names | If He Disapproves He Won't Hesitate To Let You Know | Loudly & At Length | He Practically Exists To Smite Evil-Doers & Fuck Their Shit Up | Anyone Who Says Nie Mingjue Is Not BAMF Is Lying | Or Else Really Not Paying Attention

NMJ Is Basically The Chinese Version Of A Spartan Warrior | Charging Onto The Battlefield With Baxia Held Aloft | Wearing The Blood Of His Enemies | "This! Is! Qinghe!!!" | When I Read The Novel My Brain Dubbed Him "Chinese Leonidas" | CQL Did Nothing To Dispell That Impression TBH

BAMF Uchiha Shisui | WTF Is That Not Already A Tag? | Danzou Only Beat Him Because Of Izanagi | With The Stolen Sharingan Shisui Didn't Know He Had | He Kicked Danzou's Ass | While Poisoned | And Fending Off ROOT As Well | He Won Until Danzou Got An Unexpected Do-Over | And Even Then He Still Got Away | He Might Have Been Dying But He Still Escaped | Uchiha Shisui Is A Total BAMF | This Is A Hill I Will Die On

Severus Snape Has Asperger's | No One's Ever Handled It Well | At All | Especially Not Dumbledore | It's Why He's So Bitter | Snape's Just So Done With Humanity | And With Human Interaction In General | He'd Like To Go Live Alone In A Nice Cave Somewhere | And Never Speak To Anyone Else Ever Again | Dumbledore Insists On Keeping Him In A School | Where He Was Bullied And Traumatized | Surrounded By Screaming Adolescents | Who He Can't Just Ignore | He Has To Teach | Interact With The Hellspawn | Be A Role Model | Severus Snape Regrets Everything

[danpuff-ao3]

ao3 tag game

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 61 total. 53 under danpuff and 8 under danniperson. (I have other fics on other sites that never made it to AO3. I'm debating whether or not to move them over.)

2. What's your current AO3 wordcount? 387,868. Hopefully will add more soon once I get out of this funk I've been in!

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? Hmm. Technically 3, but I deleted my Stormlight Archive fics (for reasons) so I only have Harry Potter (danpuff) and MCU (danniperson) posted on AO3 currently.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Can we take a moment to laugh that 4/5 are from my Yes, Daddy series? Cuz I'm laughing about it. And #5 being my single Harry Potter longfic LOL.

1.) Daddy Knows Best

2.) Daddy's Boy

3.) [title feels like a tad much for Tumblr, just know it's a Daddy fic]

4.) Who's Your Daddy?

5.) The Best Kept Secrets

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not. I try to! I have some old ones I've been hesitant to get to since it's been such a long time, but I think one day I'll be brave and go answer them. Comments mean the world to me and I want the people who took time to leave me kind words to know how much I appreciate them!

6. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Hmmm...Maybe The Mirror [Harry Potter, non-con] or come back to me (you're all i've ever wanted) [MCU, Steve/Howard & Stony]. I am rather fond of open endings, so probably several of those might feel pretty angsty there at the end. Exposure is probably a good one that ends at a sad place, but with a hopeful note.

7. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've ever written? No, but I'd like to! I have strong feelings about a Harry Potter & Percy Jackson crossover. (Though if you'd like to read Close Enough as a HP/PJ crossover, feel free!)

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic? Sadly, yes. It let to me purging some of my fics, which I sort of regret now. I've been tempted to purge since then but I always remind myself not to give people's unkind words that sort of power over me and my work. And that my work is valid and worthy of existing and meaningful to some people, even if not everyone cares for it.

9. Do you write smut? Heck yes!

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of, so let's hope not!

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but it sounds fun!

12. What's your all time favorite ship? SNARRY. I've been shipping them for 18 years (aka most of my life.) In the past year I've opened up to enjoying more rarepairs on the side (Dron, Dremus, Drarius, Chaco....um. Essentially, lots of Draco ships, especially if there's background snarry in the mix!)

13. What was the first fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter

14. What's your favorite fic you've written? That is difficult! I'm pretty proud of the following for various reasons:

> Take Heed, Dear Heart (I gender swapped EVERYONE, which was fun but also pretty eye-opening about the number of prominent male characters.)

> Romantic Notions (Very weird one, ngl. Involves Neville/plants. Yes, Neville/plants. Also unrequited Sneville. Background Snarry. Minor Dreville. It was a good time.) (I was very determined to write Neville/plants without it being a crack!fic. You can let me know how well I succeeded, LOL.)

> Collateral Damage (my Dron fic! It's gotten lots of love which makes me oh so happy! And I'm so so proud of how it came out!)

> The Yellow Door (concept that lived in my head for ages and ages until I figured out how to actually tell the story.)

> Spaghetti (fully living my dream of "other characters reacting to Snarry" and also friend angst.)

Tagging: ...anyone who wants to do it. (Which is essentially why I'm doing it!) I love reading these and hope to see more!

[theforgottenmcrmy]

I'm trying to write for the first time, but I am scared to even post it. Do you have advice for first time writers like me? Also, love your Growing Strong fic! It's so well done. I always look forward to when you post a new chapter <3

First, I just wanna say that I’m honored that you’re asking for my opinion🥲🖤 Second, thank you so much for reading Growing Strong! That is very sweet of you to say😊 And third, congrats on taking the leap to write! Just this time last year, I had yet to be active on here, so I know the leap can be scary, but it has also been super rewarding.

I could probably go on and on about all the stuff I’ve learned, but I’ll try to keep this short and succinct so it’s more digestible to read.😅 But if you have any follow up questions, or want me to address something more specific that I didn’t mention, please do not hesitate to send me another ask, or even message me. I will gladly talk til the cows come home if there’s even a chance something I say could be of use.

1) Before I mention anything else, in case this resonates with you as much as it does me, my most important piece of advice is this: comparison is the thief of joy. I’m 100% guilty of looking at the stats of other fics on here and AO3 and internally putting my own works down or just feeling bad about myself because of it. It might be tempting to look at other fics to kinda gauge where your own in standing in terms of interaction from others, but I really recommend not doing so if you can help it.

2) On the flip side of number 1, don’t be afraid to look at other fics and see what works. Before anyone @s me, I’m not talking plagiarism. But concepts. For example, an Aemond X OC enemies to lovers fic? That would probably be received well, since it’s a popular trope in a popular fandom right now. But even more technically, don’t underestimate the power of tags. See what tags other authors are using for similar fics in the fandom. That’s gonna be the best way to get the fic out there and seen, especially here on tumblr.

3) Edit and proofread. I’m sure this is an obvious one. But (coming from a reader perspective) this can be a uch an underrated asset to a fic.

4) Don’t get yourself feeling down if there’s not an immediately overwhelming response to your posted fic. If there is, that’s great! If not, that doesn’t mean anything at all, I promise! Depending on the fandom, where the fic is being posted, and how frequently updates for ongoing stories are being uploaded, it can take some time to get a following for it. This is also something I’ve been guilty of. But, if your fic is out there, eventually, people will find it.

5) Respond to comments/asks/even reblogs with commentary. (Unless they’re downright negative and counterproductive. I would not recommend entertaining any of those with a response. Fortunately, I don’t think things like that are frequent much at all.) But if someone leaves a compliment, reply back, even if it’s just to say thanks!😊 When I leave a comment on a fic I really enjoyed, and the author takes a moment to respond, it literally can make my day.

6.) Make some mutuals. A lot of the earliest friends I made on here were authors writing in the same fandom, and even just fellow readers. This is not a requirement by any means, but I can’t understate the value of having people to talk about fandom things with. You can bounce ideas off one another, etc. Plus, friendships formed from a mutual love of something is just👌🏻🖤 And if you already have some mutuals, ask them if they’d like to take a look at what you’ve got going on and if they would be willing to provide some feedback😊

7.) Write for yourself. This is probably related to several of the points I’ve already made, but it can’t be said enough. If you want to write because you truly want to, I believe it’s best to do it for yourself. You might end up spending a lot of time writing something, so it might as well be something that makes you happy. If you only write for likes (nothing against people who do) you might get burned out, and be unable to take any joy from it. But if you write something you love, anyone else who also enjoys it will be icing on top of the cake, since you already made yourself happy by writing it.

8.) Have fun with it. Life is too short not to.

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTES: Really, I am sorry about the long delay. Mostly a lot of personal business that doesn't matter in the slightest, haha, but I've also just been really distracted by leisure pursuits and other projects. I promise I haven't forgotten this fic and it will get posted.

It would take another full day of circuitous travel before they made it back to Wicca Falls. First, as per usual, they plotted to head East to confuse their trail, then this time South and West over Quadling Country until they could skirt the Outer Vinkus northward to their home. Though Fiyero's offer of lodging at an abandoned castle had been tempting, they both agreed that the safety of their little cave was what they needed that night.

However, they only made it as far as the Thousand Year Grasslands when the weather began to turn. At first, it only seemed to be a stronger headwind, but they were still leagues away from Neverdale when they were forced to land amongst the tall fields. As ungainly as their landing might have been, they were thankful it had not been any rougher or they might not have lived to tell the tale.

"Great Oz, what is this?" Glinda yelped as their cloaks were whipped around them.

"A storm — and a twigging good one!" Having to hold down her hat and broom, Elphaba felt herself being buffeted around, and in the open grassland there was nothing behind which they could take shelter. "Glinda! Don't let go of me!"

Lying as flat as they could, they were able to keep from being knocked down or otherwise inconvenienced. The broom was the worst of it; so much wind seemed to encourage it to take flight, and there were times both witches had to leap atop it to keep from losing it altogether. On one such occasion, Elphaba just scarcely managed to snatch her hat before it was carried off into the wild blue yonder.

"It's just a hat!" Glinda called out over the gale forces. "We could get you another one!"

"You gave this to me!" she cried as she stuffed it into her cloak, no longer trusting it to stay atop her head. "I could never let it be taken from me in such a… an unworthy fashion!"

Glinda had no answer to that. She felt one in her heart, thought of one, but the words sounded so silly that she couldn't quite force them out.

Once the worst of the winds had finally died down, they cautiously began to stand. Then the air stilled completely. It was so sudden that Glinda found herself half-crouched and blinking, completely at a loss for what she should do next.

"That was horrible," she finally breathed. "Just… just whipped up out of nowhere, and we almost crashed!"

Elphaba took her rumpled black hat out of her robes and plopped it on her head. Glinda often wondered if she had a spell on it that helped keep it secure during their usual flights. "No… not 'horrible' — Morrible. I don't know why, and I don't know how, but she's to blame for this wind."

Her companion clutched at her arm, and Elphaba embraced her back to afford her some comfort. "She knew we were flying. Maybe she thought we'd slam into the Kells!"

"Oh, Lurline knows what she thought! That devil woman, that, that… blowhard!"

"She did at that," Glinda quipped. Elphaba only glared. "Sorry. My mouth gets ahead of me when I'm scared."

At that, Elphaba ran a hand over her hair, sighing. "I'm sorry. This whole situation is so infuriating to me that sometimes I forget that you must have your own feelings about it. But we'll-"

When she suddenly cut off, looking upward, Glinda's eyes followed to see a flock of crows swirling into the sky. Whether they were crows or Crows was unclear. It was such a stark omen, like a black cloud rising from the far East, that she found herself holding her breath, as if waiting for the consequences to crash down on the pair of them immediately.

"I'm… I'm afraid again."

"What?"

"Nessa," Elphaba breathed. "I'm sorry, I know I've said this before, and things turned out so badly… but…"

She dropped her eyes, both frustrated and full of hot shame. But Glinda couldn't hold it against her. She didn't even wish to try. One hand passed up and down her friend's back as she leaned up to press a kiss into her cheek.

"Let's go check on Nessie. I know you won't be able to sleep if we don't."

"Sometimes, I think you know me a little too well." They both shared a bleak smile before mounting the broom and taking off at top speed.

                                    ~ o ~

As it happened, there was something to distract them from making it to Colwen Grounds. A very prominent, very strange something.

By the side of the Yellow Brick Road, very near Nest Hardings and the seat of the Munchkinland government, was an odd little house. This wasn't all that strange to Glinda on its own; why shouldn't someone live just to the side of such a well-travelled route? Would be easy enough for their friends and family to find them. However, she could tell by the look on Elphaba's face that this was a house that did not belong.

Upon getting closer, it was easy to see why. The house seemed to be a single large room, and was drably painted a greyish colour. It was the single most unimpressive building Glinda had ever seen in all her years — including some of the Quadling shacks. No polka dots on the doors, no stripes on the eaves… not even a little gargoyle by the chimney. Just plain, grey wood, slapped together into an ugly dwelling, which only looked yet uglier for having just appeared there. The state of disrepair seemed to suggest it had been dropped, but that was impossible… wasn't it?

"I don't know what to make of it," Elphaba breathed as they descended. "How could a house not be there a couple of days ago, and suddenly be here now?"

"Maybe it was already there, and it was just so boring nobody ever noticed," Glinda reasoned. "I mean, it's a teensy grey hut. Who cares?"

Apparently, that was not a popular opinion, as a crowd had already formed. Several members of Nessa's Pike Guild had come to regard it warily, polearms at the ready in case some beast or witch came charging out to have their heads. Many other citizens were also beginning to approach in a slow trickle from the city proper, slowing yet more the closer they got.

"We probably don't have much time, Elphie. What should we do? Stop here, or go on ahead to check on Nessa?"

"She's already here."

The nature of the scene before them began to seem different now that they could see Nessarose flanked by her guards, staring down the house as if it were already alive and ready to gobble them up. It would have been comical if the witches weren't equally frightened.

"Elphaba!" Nessa screamed the moment they came into view. "What have you done?!"

The green woman started. "What have I done? Come to see if you were alright, that's what I've done, and no more! What's happened?!"

Though the polearms raised to pierce them when they drew close, Nessa's raised hand forestalled them. They did not draw back, but remained at the ready, waiting for her signal. Unlike before, she was now dressed to the nines, black-and-white striped socks drawing attention downward to her glimmering shoes. Though her violet cape and silvery dress were no less impressive.

"She cleans up nice," Glinda muttered out of the side of her mouth. Elphaba only elbowed her as they drew within easy speaking distance.

"Elphaba, I need you to swear to me," she said in a tight voice, chest heaving with the force of her every breath. "You are the only powerful witch I know of in this entire kingdom. I know you did this, I know it! But… if you swear on our mother's grave that you did not, I may consider that something else happened."

"I swear on both Mother and Father's graves," she told her solemnly, handing the broom to Glinda so she could stride forward and take her sister's hands. But Nessa drew them away. Elphaba sighed and said, "Nessa… I'm sorry. I'm sorry about Father and about Boq, but I did not do those things myself. The latter was an accident — I was trying to help!"

"And what about Father? You drove him to an early grave! How could you betray Oz this way? I don't care about your reasons, about Animals or- or whatever! You turned your back on Munchkinland, and the Wizard!"

Her voice was hard as she hissed, "He gave me no choice. I tried to meet with him, to smooth things over and give him a second chance, and… and he has only proven to me that he is not fit to lead the Land of Oz. Too weak to stand up for what's right, too…" She shook her head. "I don't know what we should do, but I have to do something! If I just stood by and let him use the Animals' freedom to distract us from the real problems in his people's lives, then I wouldn't be able to live with myself!"

The more Elphaba went on, the more uncertain Nessarose seemed to be. But then she waved a hand to the side. "Enough! I… I don't believe you. There's no proof of any of what you say, and until there is, it's just… just noise!"

Elphaba wound up to speak again, clearly incensed, but Glinda cut across her, "But we really didn't cause that storm! In fact, it almost knocked us out of the sky, clear on the other side of Oz! Do… did you see anything? If it happened here, what did you see? Anything at all!"

"Nothing. Just the cyclone coming from the South. I… well, I've never seen anything like it! And there seemed to be something in the eye, but no one could tell what it was until it fell on…"

Something was too silent in the way Nessa cut herself off. Her lovely eyes were wide and fearful as she glanced between the two others, as if she knew to continue would be to bring doom upon herself.

"On what?" Elphaba whispered. "Or who?"

"Whom," Glinda corrected. Both Nessa and Elphaba slapped one of her arms apiece, and she stepped back, rubbing them with a pout on her lips.

"Come on, Nessa. Tell us."

After more hesitation, she glanced over at the house, then back at them again. "Do you… remember that boy, Fiyero? The one who was at the Ozdust Ballroom wi-"

Neither of them let her finish. Both witches raced toward the drab, dilapidated house with all the speed they could summon, cloaks billowing out behind them.

"Can you see anything?!" Glinda shouted a few minutes later when they had circuited the house.

"Only from here!" Elphaba announced from the front. Glinda circled around to join her, where they both crouched down. "Can you see? There, through this gap!"

"No! Move over!" Given the new perspective, Glinda squinted through the crack, raising the small wand she had once been given by Morrible and lighting the tip with one of the paltry few enchantments she had memorised. "Oh, look there, around the center! I see something!"

Sitting back a few seconds later, they exchanged a worried glance. The house was not flush with the ground everywhere, but there was little chance he had come through the ordeal unscathed. Most likely, he was already dead and cold.

"We can't be too late," Elphaba breathed, beginning to tremble. "I… I refuse to believe it!"

Laying a hand on her arm, even as her own eyes streamed, she whispered, "I… I don't want to turn him into Biq, but… but if there's anything we could do… shouldn't we try?"

They should. And they would.

"What are you doing?" Nessa demanded as they knelt a few paces away from the front of the structure, withdrawing the Grimmerie and leafing through it. "Not this again! You can't be serious!"

"You have no idea how serious," Elphaba snapped. "If there's even the slightest chance…"

"But it's madness! You know what happened to my Boq, so what- how could you ever consider doing such an awful thing to anyone else?!"

As Elphaba continued to flip pages, Glinda screamed up at her, "I love him! So if you don't mind, you can shut your twigging mouth, you… you dictatorly traitor!"

"This one!" Elphaba cried out, slapping her hand between the pages. Glinda leaned over her, a dubious expression in place. "What? What's the matter?"

"Isn't that the one you tried to use to make our straw-stuffed mattress softer?"

"No! No, I don't think so…" She peered down at the page, then glared up at Glinda. "This isn't the time to second-guess me! It's the best spell I have!"

"Then I'll cast another one," Glinda said as she leafed through the back of the book, ignoring the outraged cry from her companion. "If we both concentrate, and don't get distracted by the other person's spell, then it should be fine! We've both cast spells at once before!"

By this time, Nessa was flapping around near their shoulders, whispering, "Are you sure any of this is wise? Maybe we should just… let him be…" Hearing how that sounded, she added, "Because of what we did to Boq. I know, I've seen how important he was to both of you, so… do you really want to wish the same fate on him?"

Glinda felt a pinprick of curiosity at that line. They both loved Fiyero. She had suspected, given a few of the glances they exchanged, turns their conversations took over the years — but had told herself it was ridiculous. Fiyero had never expressed any true interest in Elphaba, other than his farewell the day they left for the Emerald City. And anytime she lamented losing him, being apart from him, Elphaba had said nothing. Only let her prattle onward like a child.

What would have happened if they did not have to run from the Wizard's armies? Would they have fought over Fiyero? Lost their friendship because they both desired him? She couldn't imagine it now. Yes, it was possible, but she simply did not think she had the stomach to fight with Elphaba about something that seemed so… petty.

And she couldn't focus on that. Stopping her thoughts in their tracks as she landed upon a page, she whispered, "I have mine; it's a protection spell, but I think if I modify it… say an 'ah' instead of an 'ey'?"

"Yes, we'll have to do what we can. There's no time." Holding the middle sheaf of pages exactly vertical, they both tilted their heads so they could read the script of their respective spells. "Nessa, do you mind?"

"Do I mind what? Oh." Stepping between them on her still-unsteady legs, Nessa grasped the middle pages, trying to hold her fingers out of the way of any words. "This is insane…"

"Good. Thank you." Clearing her throat, Elphaba began to chant, "Eleka nahmen nahmen, atum atum, eleka nahmen…"

But Glinda had to block that out, and fast. If she let herself get rattled or distracted by the other incantation, it would only muddle her own, so she set to work immediately, speaking the words and swirling her hands to help pull in the mystical energies of spellwork. Line after line flew from her lips as she read aloud, until she was completely lost to time.

Finally, she let her spell loose. An instant before, she had more sensed than actually saw Elphaba's hands fly forward to do the same; the light was so subtle that she was sure most non-witch residents of Oz would see nothing at all — only the results, which would not be visible due to flying under the house.

That was the intention.

Something obstructed Glinda's spell from reaching Fiyero where he lay. Two somethings: dusty brown shoes, adorned with a buckle but otherwise very plain. Her eyes screwed up, puzzled as she stared at the twinkling light of her magic befalling them. What were those doing in the middle of the road?

Then she realised the shoes had not been abandoned. So narrow had her focus been on casting her spell that she hadn't even looked further upward until the magic began to fade, settling into its new home. Up the dingy white socks, the rolled-up cuffs of blue material that seemed to be pants — except it stretched up over a middle and a chest, even hooking over two shoulders by way of straps. Only by the time she saw rosy cheeks, a gaping mouth, and brown braids did Glinda finally realise…

This was another person. Quite a tall person for the average Munchkin, and dressed in such strange garments! But there the stranger stood, all the same, open-mouthed and completely shocked by the sight of witches doing their witchly business.

"What…" Glinda cleared her throat, fingers finally beginning to curl away from the Grimmerie. "Who- I mean, where did you come from?"

Nessa dropped the pages as she drew back, as surprised as her former classmate. Elphaba, however, had scarcely taken her eyes off the eaves underneath the house; she was willing Fiyero to present himself, for anything to take place. Inwardly, so was Glinda, but she was also worried about what she might have done to an innocent bystander with her spell.

"G-Goodness me!" the person squeaked — a woman, if the voice were any indication. She hadn't been sure, what with how she looked. "Y-you talk! You queer little folk can talk!"

"Of course we can!" Nessa burst out, more startled into responding than meaning to have said anything. "Y-you… how did you do that?"

Still heavily distracted by her surroundings, the strange girl breathed, "Do what?"

"Make a house fly! I've… not even our great and terrible Wizard can do something like that!"

"A housefly? I- w-well, you don't 'make' houseflies, th-they come on their own! Of course, Uncle Henry's always sayin' that I don't help any, on account of I leave the butter dish out, a-and then they come 'round because they can't resist Aunt Em's butter, s-so… maybe I do make houseflies, after all, and if that's gonna be a problem, then I'm awful sorry! But the butter dish is closed up right now, so they shouldn't come, should they?"

No one responded. Not a single Munchkinlander did more than cough.

"Do… you mean to say that you can lift an entire building… with only the use of a butter dish?" Glinda finally asked dubiously, trying not to sound too disbelieving.

"What?!" she squeaked, a hand flying to her bowlike mouth. "Oh, no, no, no! I can't lift a whole house! Goodness, I'm only a little thing, aren't I? Ain't heard of anyone liftin' anything like a house all on their lonesome! Not without a pulley! A-and I haven't got a pulley! There's one in the barn, but the barn is…" Her hand swept to one side, but a second later it fell as she gaped at the rolling fields of blue maize, the swaying of the Fighting Trees. "Is… not here. Or I'm not there. Am I? M-maybe I'm not even in Kansas anymore…"

Nessa reached down to help Glinda up, and she gratefully took the hand. Privately, she worried about unbalancing the new-to-walking woman, but things turned out alright. Then she straightened her cloak and asked, "Dear thing, what's your name?"

"My name? Dorothy. Dorothy Gale, if you please." She reached out to the sides as if to curtsy, then seemed to start when she grasped only at the sides of pantlegs. Dipping her head shamefacedly, she announced, "I… I'm so underdressed, I… you all look so lovely, and I'd b-been out working with Uncle Henry before the storm! What a state to be in when I meet new people!"

"A pleasure to meet you," Glinda said, curtsying and managing it just fine. "My name is Glinda Upland, of the Upperuplands. This is Nessarose Thropp, the Eminent."

"How do you do?" Nessa greeted her with a wooden bow, as if not quite sure she ought to be bowing. Really, everyone was shocked; it was only Glinda's breeding that allowed her innate sense of decorum to override her complete surprise.

"I do well! Oh, it's nice to meet you both!" For the first time, the girl chanced a hesitant smile as she turned to where Elphaba still crouched over the book. "And… and who might you be?"

After a moment, Elphaba glanced up at her. Her expression was slacken, empty, and Glinda felt her heart seize to see her that way. "It didn't work."

"What?"

"The spell. It didn't work, he… he isn't…" Then everything about her changed. Boiling to her feet, she bellowed directly at the girl, "What have you DONE?!"

Dorothy shrank back from the shout, all of her budding good humour replaced with fright. "Done? Wh-why, I haven't done anything at all, I p-promise!"

"This is your house, isn't it?" No answer. She took a step forward, hands curling into fists as she bore down on the girl who was just scarcely shorter than herself. "Answer me, you fool!"

"Y-yes! It's my home, I- what is it, what's wrong?"

"You MURDERER!"

Elphaba's hands had just barely begun to swirl, to conjure a spell of some sort, when Glinda dashed forward and tugged the arms down. "Elphie, stop!"

"NO! Let me go, let me go this instant! She can't be allowed to get away with this, I won't-"

"I don't understand!" Dorothy was wailing, backpedaling toward her house and tripping over a crack in the bricks, so that she sat down hard in the grass between road and house. "AH! What- oww!"

At the same moment, a small black creature came pelting out of the house, as well. It yipped and barked at Elphaba, and Glinda didn't quite know what to make of it. It seemed like some sort of cross between a dog and a cat, but it was unlike any creature she had ever seen.

"She'll be shredded to pieces," Elphaba was growling, straining against Glinda's grip. Nessa merely stood nearby, indecisive but eyes wild at the scene playing out. "Crucified and whipped until — no, that isn't fitting at all. I'll just have to drop this godforsaken house on her!"

Gritting her teeth, Glinda tried to turn her around to face her, but it was slow going, and the barking from the odd little thing was distracting. Once she managed it, through a lot of grunting and straining, she snapped, "FABALA!" That got her focus, alright. "You can't do this to her! You are not a perpetrator of murderosity, and I won't let you act like you are!"

"It was Fiyero!" she snapped directly into her face. Glinda couldn't suppress a wince. "How can you not be upset? Don't you care? I thought you loved him!"

"I did!" Tears were on her cheeks already, and she hadn't the slightest clue when they got there. "And I do! But… but if he has gone… oh, Elphie, what's it going to change to take revenge on this poor young one?"

The words began to sink in. She knew they did; the way Elphaba's eyes turned down and to one side showed her as much. Given more opportunity, she could have talked some sense into her companion.

However, they never got a chance to sink in any further. At that moment, there came a great BOOM! that filled the area, startling the Pike Guild and all the Munchkinlanders further back.

"AHHH!" Dorothy screamed out, covering her head with both arms and pressing herself back against the steps as the small dog-cat ran to her, nosing at her arms.

Rising up from the billowing smoke in the middle of the road was a sight that sent chills down Glinda's spine. High, forbidding white hair, pinched, fishlike pale features, and a billowing dress that disguised an equally-billowing figure.

"You," Glinda breathed, a hand going to her mouth.

"How dare you attack this poor girl!" she announced, raising an arm to level a crooked finger and a pointed, painted nail at the two witches. "Haven't you evil witches caused enough harm to Oz?!"

"Here's someone I can drop a house on," Elphaba growled, eyes narrowing to slits. "Madame Morrible… I might have known. I might have known it was you!"

But the moment she took a step toward the vile press secretary, she snapped, "Guards!" And the guards fell into line between them. The armoured and polearm-wielding Munchkins, looking quite uncomfortable but resolute, aimed the weapons in their direction.

"Wait," Nessa said in disbelief, taking a step out from behind her sister. "What are you doing? I haven't given an order — and I order you to stand down!" Nothing happened. "I demand you step aside until I call upon you!"

"They aren't yours to push around anymore," Morrible chuckled darkly, with a wolfish look that only they three would ever see. Dorothy was cowering by the house, the guards facing the wrong way, and all the citizens of Nest Hardings too far away to see anything clearly. "Several months ago, I learned of the coup they were planning against the Wicked Witch of the East, and decided to bide my time. Why dirty my own hands when it's not strictly necessary?"

"Wicked… Witch of the- who is…" But it began to dawn on the poor paraplegic. Her eyes swept to Elphaba, then back to her traitorous troops, none of whom met her glance with even a hint of sympathy. She breathed, aghast, "Me? You think me a witch?"

All Morrible said in response to that was, "Blood will out." Then to Elphaba, she snapped, "I suggest you leave this place, before I am forced to attack you forthwithly! The Wizard is still most displeased you could not see his generosity for what it was, and you've caused enough trouble for too long!"

"Not half as much trouble as I-" But the tugging at Elphaba's arm told her Glinda did not agree, so she turned to hiss, "What?!"

"Let's go. They're all stacked against us, we… we can't stay." Her longing eyes flicked to the house again, but she only sighed before saying, "Please, Elphie? Let's just… fall back and figure out what to do without all these stabby things pointed at us!"

The green nostrils flared. Then she hissed, "No good deed goes unpunished. I spared the brat, and all of Munchkinland is still against me, are they?"

"No! They just… don't know what to believe right now! Please don't-"

"FINE." Picking up their broom, she mounted it immediately and glared across at their adversary, who looked like a cat with a mouthful of bird feathers. "This is not the last of me, you tyrant! May you and all who serve you meet the ghastliest of ends!"

"That's my line," Glinda hissed. "I'm the Ghastly one!"

As she swung on behind Elphaba, Morrible called out, "So be it! Retreat like the cowards you are!"

Glinda could tell this was as important to Morrible as the confrontation itself: building herself up as their saviour in the eyes of the Munchkins, even though she had scarcely done a thing other than exist. It was all showmanship. She and the Wizard really were a match made somewhere unpleasant. Still, she couldn't spare her the brainpower. Turning to Nessa, she asked, "Are you coming?"

"NO! What makes you think I'd ever-" The points of the spears raised toward her when she tried to take a step toward the Pike Guild, and she turned back to the two of them, face paling and eyes downcast. "Well… as long as you're offering…"

"Mark my words!" Morrible was calling out at their backs as the three so-called witches took off into the Western sky, leaving behind a potential new friend, and the remains of an old one. "You will come to rue the day you ever crossed wands with a real witch, you… you pretenders! You charlatanous charlatans! Stay gone, if you know what's good for you!"

                                     To Be Continued…