#in every fanfiction i write this is why
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ms-all-sunday · 11 months ago
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can i leave this under every post i ever see about zoro.
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nebraskashouse · 16 days ago
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no matter how fucking sad I am, any AO3 email never fails to makes my day a little brighter
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oxenfreeao3 · 1 year ago
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There aren't many hobbies out there that are free to do, inherently creative, and capable of bringing joy to people all across the globe.
But that's why I love writing fanfiction.
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strawhattery · 9 days ago
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Hand of Salvation
Law-Centric | Teen | 10,061 words
Tags: Trafalgar D. Water Law, Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks, Egghead Island Arc (One Piece) Spoilers, What-If, Canon Compliant, (through Egghead), Minor Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar D. Water Law, (if you squint), Hallucinations, Grief/Mourning, Surgical Imagery, Ambiguous/Open Ending
Following the events on Winner Island, Law and Bepo find themselves aboard the ship of another Emperor. But Law knows better than to expect his help for free.
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anto-pops · 1 year ago
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The Serpent's Paramour - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader
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Summary: For the past five years, you've been traversing the Highlands in pursuit of ancient magic sites to master the all-consuming power from the repository. In the midst of your travels, you find yourself forced into an uneasy alliance with none other than Sebastian Sallow. He wants your help, but you want absolutely nothing to do with him.
At first, that is.
While the two of you learn to coexist in the same space again, you’re left wondering if you truly will be able to aid one another, or if your past mistakes will finally come to head after all these years and ultimately lead to your long awaited downfall.
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: 18+. aged up characters, canon-typical violence, kidnapping
Chapter 1 can also be found here on Ao3
You were getting really tired of running for your life. 
During your fifth-year turning tail and booking it was often heavily warranted, especially because it was usually being done as a result of you waking up hordes of Inferi, or stealing important artifacts from dark wizards that would then be out for blood. You liked to think you had grown out of that habit, but tonight was proving to be something of a trip down memory lane. 
You were being chased. Again. 
Tucking your knees to your chest, you ducked down and rolled through mud at the same time a Bombarda curse blew up a chunk of the tree ahead of you. It was a close call, but you could hardly stop to survey the extent of the damage when you could still hear the thugs behind you giving chase. 
“You daft idiots, grab her!” 
Another spell struck the ground where you’d landed moments before, but you were already on the move– dipping and weaving in a bid to dodge the attacks that were fired blindly at your back. It made no sense; you had never been intercepted at an ancient magic site before, and as far as you were concerned, there was no reason for anyone to take interest in a dilapidated ruin. Aside from using the crumbling fortress as a makeshift base, no Ashwinders or poachers had ever been lying in wait in what was otherwise deemed an unremarkable location. 
They had been this time, though. To make matters worse, they were looking for you specifically. 
Your name had been like a battle cry from their lips as you’d exited the rundown site, and you hadn’t bothered to stick around to find out whatever the hell it was they wanted with you. If you weren’t so tired and weary, you would have apparated yourself to safety in a heartbeat, but splinching yourself as a result of your carelessness wasn’t exactly at the top of your to-do list. So, you had bolted straight for the edge of the forest, doing your best to avoid colliding with the low hanging branches that scratched at your cheeks and ripped at your cloak. 
There was more yelling from behind you, only this time it sounded distinctly farther away. Chancing a look over your shoulder, you discovered that there was now ample distance between you and the goons chasing you, and you pivoted on your heels to head north for the river that separated the Clagmar Coast from Cragcroftshire. If you could reach the water, you would have a better chance of getting away and concealing your tracks in the process. 
At least, you hoped you would.
Lungs aching, you pushed yourself harder, your arms pumping at your sides as you lept over a fallen log in your path, and though you stumbled a bit upon landing, you remained upright and pressed on. Another spell whizzed past your head– the heat from the Confringo curse nearly singing your matted hair– but you ignored it and focused wholly on running. It felt like an eternity had passed when you finally reached the colossal ravine, immediately trying to formulate a plan that would result in you on the other side with your pursuers left behind. There was no bridge to repair, no loose boulders to form into a levitating staircase, nothing. Panic began to fester in your mind for a heartbeat before you steeled your nerves and banished the feeling entirely. Hysteria wouldn’t help you right now– it never had. 
“There– up ahead! Move your asses, dammit,” came the same voice from before. You turned to watch as a handful of masked assailants slid down the muddy embankment roughly fifty feet from you, and that sight alone spurred you into action. 
Your wand was ripped from the holster on your thigh, and you channeled every bit of magic in your body into it as you aimed for the largest tree across the daunting trench in front of you. The Accio charm wrapped around the top of the monstrous trunk, and with every ounce of strength you possessed, you pulled. It seemed impossible at first, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and the foreign power from the repository surged to life to give you the assistance you gravely needed. There was a deafening crack as the wood began to splinter and give way under your ministrations, muting the onslaught of footsteps that grew nearer and nearer. With one final pull your efforts were rewarded, and the massive evergreen tipped towards you slowly before gravity caught up to it, sending it plummeting towards where you stood. 
If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? It was a philosophical question– one that you had never thought about much before– but you had always assumed that with no one around, there would never be any way to know. Presently there were multiple people around, and as it turned out, a falling tree did make a sound. 
As you dove out of the way, the pine covered top of the tree arched past where you had been standing, stretching over the shrinking space between you and the encroaching strangers behind you. Most of them saw the gargantuan tree heading straight for them and jumped out of the way, their shrill screams echoing throughout the forest and bringing a small smile to your face. A few others weren’t so lucky, and you watched as the peaked top of the tree swallowed them whole and buried them beneath a heavy thicket of pine needles. 
Seizing your opportunity, you ran for the makeshift bridge and hauled yourself on top of the rough trunk, shoving and kicking at the spindly branches that stood in your way as you practically clawed your way through to the other side of the ravine. You didn’t dare look back, keeping your eyes trained ahead as you focused on maintaining your footing and not getting thrown off balance by your satchel. 
It looked like a hurricane had torn through the earth when you finally emerged at the base of the tree. You hopped down and landed in the deep, root-riddled crater that had previously held the evergreen upright before running to the side to gauge where your attackers were. Most were still gathering their bearings while others attempted to drag their comrades out from under the suffocating weight of the branches. You hardly spared their survival a second thought as you pointed your wand at the center of the tree and cast, “Confringo!” 
The flames grew rapidly and without mercy, frantic calls of “hurry” and “get them out of there” reaching your ears as you spun towards the forest and disappeared into the treeline. There was no knowing how much time you had bought yourself, but you weren’t about to squander any of it for a second. 
You ran, and you did not look back. 
***
One would assume that after two years of living in abandoned hovels and scrounging up scraps to eat with your bare hands, you’d be used to being cold, wet, and miserable. Hell, you had learned more about yourself since leaving Hogwarts than you’d ever thought possible, including just how resilient and resourceful you could be. Rain storms, stale bread, and a lack of clean water had never deterred you for long, and through all the trials and tribulations you found yourself facing, you always managed to pull through. 
Tonight, however, you allowed yourself to be sullen. 
The torrential downpour you’d been caught up in somehow managed to slip through the canopy of trees overhead, and as a result, you were encased in a cold, wet, dreary darkness. It had been two hours of trudging through mud and frigid temperatures, and by now you were caked in a thick layer of grime that you desperately wanted to rid yourself of. Charming away the mess was pointless– it wouldn’t be long before you were covered in muck once again– and you’d learned long ago that using magic while in the middle of a void forest was a bad idea, especially when you were trying to remain undetected. 
After the events from earlier in the day, you had decided to head straight for the next site marked on your map to make camp and settle down for the night. However, you were still a day away from reaching the location, no thanks to the dark wizards that had chased you in the opposite direction. Your stubbornness and desire to reach your destination is why you currently found yourself on the outskirts of civilization, trying and failing to fend off the elements to get the journey over with, but the bone-deep chill that wracked your body was beginning to weaken your resolve. 
You were exhausted. 
Thunder rumbled overhead, long and loud amidst the sound of raindrops pelting against the dirt, and with a disappointed sigh, you made up your mind. If memory served you correctly, the town of Bainburgh was roughly a two mile walk west of the forest. Your paranoia told you it was too risky to set foot in a legitimate establishment, but your numb limbs and wet boots squashed your fears before they could come to head. Staying outside for the entire night would likely leave you dead, and there were few other options to choose from. 
So, you marched. It took roughly forty minutes to traverse the jagged, rocky landscape in the dark, slowed down by the stray roots that stuck out of the ground and worked to trip you in your haste. By the time you made it into town, you were soaked to the bone and shivering violently enough that you were certain passersby could hear. The tavern was helpfully the largest building at the end of the road, and you headed straight for it without sparing any of the town’s denizens a second glance. 
The warmth that greeted you as soon as you entered was beyond welcoming, and you tugged the door shut behind you before beelining straight for the firepit in the middle of the room. Your hands were so numb that you practically had to submerge them in the flames to feel any semblance of reprieve, and a few onlookers cast wary glances your way. Between the mud that coated your lower half and the water that dripped from every fiber of your clothing, you realized you had to look like a walking disaster, and that sobering thought had you tucking your hands under your armpits as you hurried to the bar at the back of the room. 
The older gentleman wiping down the counter turned to face you, his aged face showing obvious alarm and concern when he caught sight of you. “Merlin’s beard girl, you look like you’ve been dragged straight through hell.” 
You flashed him a bashful smile, though you were certain it looked like more of a grimace. “You could say that. You wouldn’t happen to have any rooms available for the night, would you?” 
With practiced efficiency, he tossed the rag he’d been holding over his shoulder and shuffled over to the cabinet at the edge of the bar, opening the squeaky glass panel that housed the keys for the rentable rooms. “Ordinarily the answer would be no, but that damned storm blowing through has business movin’ slow. I’ve got two rooms left, one with a bath and the other without.” 
Your heart soared as you hastily replied, “The one with the bath, please.” Without missing a beat, you snatched your weighty coin purse from your belt and dropped it on the wooden surface. The barkeeper raised his white, bushy brows in silent surprise as he tentatively picked up the drawstring sac, plucking ten gold pieces from within before handing it back to you. The bronze key he deposited in front of you had a wooden tag dangling from the end that read ‘13’, and for the first time in nearly two weeks you found yourself genuinely smiling as your fist closed around the cool metal. 
“Up the stairs and on your left,” he instructed you. “Kitchen is open for another hour if you’re tryin’ to grab a bite before bed, but I’d wager you’re more interested in the runnin’ water.” The way his eyes fell to your soiled clothing didn’t escape you. You almost felt bad for tracking all the mud and water through the lobby.
Twenty minutes later, you had a warm loaf of bread and a small wedge of cheese tucked away in your bag as you ascended the rickety staircase. The decor within the aged tavern was modest, save for the silver plaques that adorned each door with their respective room numbers. Finding your own was a non-issue, and as soon as you were inside the sanctity of the rented space, you let loose a breath that you’d seemingly been holding since setting foot into town. Now wasn’t the time to let your guard down, but you weren’t about to turn your nose up at clean linens and running water. 
Moving quietly, you stripped down to your undergarments and tossed your ruined clothing in the corner of the bathroom, then cranked the tub’s faucet to the highest setting and left it to fill. The bread from the kitchen had cooled some, but it hardly made a difference to you as you ripped off a piece and ate it with the cheese you’d purchased. Fresh food was a rarity for you these days, and you savored every bite as you paced the length of the room. With your hunger sated and your looming bath just around the corner, you allowed yourself to think back to the last few weeks, and you pondered just why dark wizards were looking for you.
Understandably, the whole situation reminded you of your fifth-year. Suddenly you were fifteen again, being hounded and hunted by Ranrok and Rookwood alike for simply existing. At that time they had wanted something from you; your abilities, your information, and most prudent of all, your silence. You’d known too much back then, but those times had passed, and both Ranrok and Rookwood were now dead– at your hands, no less. 
So why would anyone be looking for you? Who were they to you? What did they want? 
It wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest to discover that you had more enemies lurking in the shadows. The stunts you’d pulled and the things you’d gotten away with back then were bound to catch up with you, but you hated not knowing. The whole reason you’d left Hogwarts after graduation without so much as a word to anyone was precisely because you didn’t want your whereabouts known. The line between friend and foe had started to blur towards the end, though you acknowledged that it was mostly your fault.
You hadn’t turned Sebastian in, but you also hadn’t moved to stop Ominis from doing so. 
With him imprisoned in Azkaban and Ominis reeling from the decision, it was no wonder the two of you had drifted apart in the years that followed. Anne’s curse worsening had only exacerbated Ominis’ feelings, and you’d graciously stayed out of his way anytime you saw him around school. Natty had never fully recovered from Harlow’s use of the Cruciatus curse on her, and your guilt had in turn driven you further away from her. Poppy was the only person you’d stayed in touch with for the remainder of your academic life, but she was too good a person to drag down with your… issues. You’d ultimately been the one to cut contact with her following your seventh-year, and while you’d felt bad about it at first, you knew it was for the best. 
After tonight, that decision had proven to be the right one. If you really were being tracked, were any of your former friends targets for information? Did this impromptu, wild goose chase have anything to do with your volatile abilities from the repository? Had you unwittingly put them in harm's way simply because they knew you? 
The bread in your mouth had gone soft, and you shook the pointless thoughts from your mind as you finished off your mediocre dinner and made for the bathroom. The warmth from the water was divine and single-handedly chased away any lingering doubts about holing up in a public place for the night. For just this once, you would gladly trade sleeping in the cold, wet dirt for the pending restlessness and paranoia that was bound to greet you, and greet you it did. 
After climbing under the itchy but clean blankets, you stared wide eyed up at the ceiling for what felt like hours. Every squeak of a floorboard, every booming laugh that echoed up the stairs, every shadow that darted past your window, all had your heart racing. Even after checking twice that the two points of entry were indeed firmly locked, your nerves wouldn’t steady. Your skin crawled with unease at the prospect of being blindsided in an unfamiliar place, and at one point you even began pacing the length of the tiny room just to tire yourself out. 
Eventually, you came to a grinding halt at the foot of the bed, your hands curling into fists as you sucked down a slow, deep breath. “You’re fine,” you murmured to yourself. “You’re fine. It’s okay, you’re safe, you’re fine.” 
Maybe if you repeated it enough times you would start to believe it. 
The second time you crawled beneath the prickly sheets your brain was still running in overdrive, but you were far less fidgety than before. You had no clue how you managed it, but eventually your eyes drifted shut– and even if it ended up being a fitful bout of sleep, you would be grateful for the few hours of shut eye you managed to acquire. 
Gratitude went right out the window, however, when you were startled awake by a whispered, “Petrificus totalus.” 
Your body locked up– stiff and unable to move an inch below the scratchy covers– and before you even had the chance to glance in the direction of the disembodied voice, they whispered a different sort of charm. 
One that made your world go dark.
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thescarletnargacuga · 18 days ago
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Scarlet? Are you there darling? Is everything okay? (I'm just a lil worried) \(ó﹏ò。)
I'm not dead...I don't have an excuse. Nothing big is happening in my life. I've just lost the spark for a bit. I still have the drive every once in awhile, but I haven't been able to finish a story in weeks.
Best I can say is the hyperfixation wore off. Maybe it'll come back. I don't know.
Writing made me happy. I don't know why I stopped.
Thanks for checking in...I'm sorry to disappoint.
I'll keep trying. Something has to catch at some point.
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xylophone888 · 8 months ago
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being a fan of any other character feels like giving somebody a genuine heartfelt compliment, being a fan of rincewind feels like nonstop day and night 25/8 staring into your aquarium where a lonely sickly shrimp resides never leaving it out of your sight and screaming at the top of your lungs when it eats or gets slightly better because you've been medicating it carefully for the last month and left your job just to care for it
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finnsfunworld · 25 days ago
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write the fic you want to read- especially if its about a damn rare pare or something not popular in the fandom because no one else will write it anyways
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onblondes · 4 days ago
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A Passing Resemblance - chapter 6
Gale/Female Tav (Evie) 6.3k words mature
Parallel Universes - Chapter Six, In Parallel (read from the beginning)
Wyll had been away from Baldur’s Gate for some time but he was from the same echelon of society as Evie. Perhaps they were childhood friends that had reconnected and fallen in love as adults. She seemed very close with Shadowheart and often pulled her aside for clandestine conferences. Could they be confessions of love? Reassurances that they were still connected, even in secret? Gale couldn’t yet determine why Evie would purposefully keep any of those from him, or why that other person would agree to be hidden. Perhaps Evie has sensed it would be too big of a change from Gale’s home universe and wanted to shield him from that confusion or awkwardness. Maybe she really was like the Evie from his world and simply didn’t trust him. 
[CHAPTER 6 ON AO3]
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motleyfam · 1 year ago
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**Regardless of whether you actually overuse it or not, which one is the most enticing to you as a writer?
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allaboutlov3 · 7 months ago
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"i write sins not tragedies"
sincerely, marauders fanfic writers
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inkluvs · 2 years ago
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could you come in
a/n: originally posted in november 2022? i think? god it's been a while. anyways !! my writing style has changed since then so this is a bit different then anything i'm writing currently <3 i think an anon requested this ? not sure. oh yeah @velvetcloxds helped me choose which one to post tonight <3
warnings: insecurity. petnames. i did not proofread this.
sirius black x fem! reader
ivy's cafe // masterlist // taglist
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“Doll? Did something happen?” Sirius’s voice called out. You let out a small sigh before dragging your palm over your face in an attempt to focus
“’s nothing, just got distracted,” you replied. Technically, you weren’t lying, you had gotten distracted you just hadn’t specified by what. Sirius knew better than to press on and that you’d tell him later when you felt up to it, but something felt off about you today, more so than usual
You turned on the water and he could hear the splash of the water against the sink basin as you flick the water droplets towards your face, screwing your eyes shut in an attempt to keep the liquid out of your eyes. You turned off the faucet, your previous worries returning to you as soon as you return back to your spot earlier staring at the mirror.
“Sirius?” He jumped when he heard his name, assuming the worst.
“Are you alright? d'you want me to come in?”
“’m alright but could you come in?” you said, voice lacking in its usual confidence. Sirius tilts his head slightly as if wondering what you needed him for. He’d be there anyways but that didn’t stop him from being curious.
Sirius got up, the mattress groaning at the loss of his weight, and twisted the doorknob before pulling it open. The corner of his lips, which turned up at the sight of you, turned into a frown at the slightly distressed look on your face.
“Is everything alright?” he asked, voice soft as if trying not to startle you. You look at him and try to smile, your eyes the only thing that keeps him from believing you.
“Do I look alright?” you say, and you turn yourself to the side, looking over your shoulder to look into the mirror. And suddenly Sirius knew exactly what this was about.
“Angel, you know that you’re perfect right? no matter what anybody says, you’re beautiful.” You nod hesitantly in a way that has him questioning whether you’ve heard him fully. He repeats his statement and you look at him before nodding.
“You're stunning” he whispered and with that, he pulled you to his chest and pressed his lips against your forehead while rocking you back and forth.
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decaffeinatedpaperobject · 2 months ago
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'poly marauders!!!!! awhhh they should all kiss!!!' where's peter? i understand that he is not a good person in canon. but are we forgetting that he was ACTUALLY one of the marauders? are we forgetting that james and lily trusted him enough to make him the secret keeper?
you're not shipping the whole group if peter isn't there my GOD
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happy74827 · 10 months ago
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You ever just revisit your old fics (which unfortunately are public to the world) and you want to delete it so bad because it’s just painful to glance at, but at the same time, you know someone out there is emotionally attached to that fic and you just don’t have the heart to rip that away from them.
The true pain of a writer.
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hanzajesthanza · 4 months ago
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allowed myself the time to spend to write a scene because the fancy took me, ended up destroying my sleep schedule to write it, woke up at 4 pm just to realize it’s not good and i would need to redo it
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allalrightagain · 4 months ago
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I love my best friend, who I have known for nearly 2/3 of my life, immensely, but sometimes I text him something like "hey! how is business grad school??" and get back "omg heyyy it's great! I'm at the club!" and remember that there are zero worlds where we would have met and gotten along as adults
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