#please.......the wizards.......................

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I love you Safety Wizard.

(Inspired by @keroascrazy)

[janeiscompletelyfine]

No pressure anybody but these questions are actually great so ask me if you can!

❤️ Jane

✍️ more fic writer asks!

reblog & your followers can send asks with the questions they’d like you to answer!

the last sentence you wrote

a character whose POV you’re currently exploring

how you feel about your current WIP

a story idea you haven’t written yet

first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

the word that appears the most in your current draft (wordcounter.net can tell you)

your preferred writing fonts

if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted?

what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

a WIP you’d like to finish someday

a trope you’re really into right now

a fandom you’re thinking about writing for

where do you get your inspiration?

favorite weather for writing

favorite place to write

talk about your writing and editing process

if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

in what year did you publish your first fic?

when did you publish your most recent fic?

do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?

pick three keywords that describe your writing

how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?

besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

are you able to write with other people around?

your favorite part of the writing process

your least favorite part of the writing process

how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

share a fic you’re especially proud of

[l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft]

i think the angst potential of boggart lessons in fanfiction is not used enough

[siriusblackdevotee]

"platonic prongsfoot who are such good friends they jerk off together" is a sentence I read today. Which is fine of course. You do you.

[mudd-art]

[I'm back in the fucking building!]

[glitchedcrows]

And literally all of them are marauders fics too 😳

Me looking through AO3: ughhh I need to find a fic to read

My 62 open AO3 tabs: 👁️👄👁️

[sexygaywizard]

sexy gay wizard, why are you reblogging transphobic posts from radfems? like i know we all like to make haha funny jokes but its kind of unnerving to see unapologetic bigotry and hatred of an entire group of marginalized people disguised as a haha funny joke. baeddels and terfs are already bad enough to deal with please dont tell me you believe in their anti-transmasculine bigotry as well

don't be stupid. if i reblog something from a terf let me know don't send me weird vague shit

[mssorceressupreme]

Working Late Pt. 2 | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Your boss does not take lightly to people flirting with his favourite employee, and wants you to know you're his and his only.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, boss/employee, possessive!fred, teasing, jealousy, office sex, fingering, dom!fred, sub!reader, p in v, penetration, coming, overstimulation, praising ———

It was another energetic day at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and you were in high spirits. The shop was packed, the air buzzing with chatter and laughter as customers marvelled at the shelves bursting with magical novelties.

You’d felt like dressing up today, slipping on a short but tasteful black dress that cinched at your waist and flowed just above your knees. It was modest but cute, perfectly suited for the carefree atmosphere of the shop.

Fred had already complimented you earlier in his usual teasing manner, a smirk tugging at his lips as he’d said, “Trying to steal all my customers with that dress, are you?” You’d rolled your eyes playfully punching him, but your heart had fluttered all the same.

Today was no different than any other day, however that changed when the afternoon took a turn, a familiar voice catching your attention.

“Is that… Y/N?”

You turned to find none other than Oliver Wood standing before you, looking as dashing as ever in a red fitted jacket and his signature confident grin.

“Oliver!” you exclaimed, genuinely pleased to see him. “It’s been ages!”

“It has,” he said, his eyes sweeping over you with unmistakable appreciation. “You’ve… changed. Hogwarts didn’t do you justice.”

A faint blush crept up your neck, and you laughed softly. “Well, I guess we all grow up, don’t we?”

As you chatted, his flirtation became more apparent. He leaned closer when he spoke, his compliments growing bolder. “I always knew you were lovely, but Merlin, you’ve really turned heads now.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Fred watching. He was helping another customer, but his gaze kept shifting back to your interaction with Oliver.

His playful demeanour had vanished, his expression unreadable. He didn’t interrupt, but his gaze lingered, sharp and brooding.

When Oliver finally left with his purchases, you turned to Fred, hoping for a witty remark or a teasing jab, but he was already busying himself with a display. He hadn’t said a word, not even a glance in your direction.

The rest of the day was tense. Fred barely acknowledged you, answering your questions with curt nods or single-word replies. It was as if he’d built an invisible wall between you, and it stung more than you cared to admit.

"Hey Freddie, a customer wanted out inquire about a stock refill. When are the next batch of Puking Pastilles arriving? They're currently all sold out and-" You approached him while the customer you were serving continued browsing, awaiting your answer.

"Next week." Fred said, a little too bluntly before walking away, avoiding your gaze as he did so.

You nodded slowly, approaching the customer with a forced smile though you were a bit hurt by Fred's bluntness, "The next batch will arrive next week, Monday I believe, best come early before they sell out again miss."

"Sounds perfect love, I'll be here first thing next week then!" She chimed before leaving with her two kids.

During a lull in the crowd, you approached George who was stationed behind the cash register. The interaction with Fred still lingered in the back of your mind. “Is Fred… okay?” you asked hesitantly.

George looked up from the register, his usual grin in place. "Fred? Seems fine to me, why'd ya ask?"

"He's just...it's like he's avoiding me. Have I done something wrong?" You tilt your head, looking at the ground trying to recall any mistakes you might have made.

“Nah you're doing alright. He’s probably just being a git, as usual. Don’t let it bother you eh?"

But it did bother you.

Fred’s cold shoulder gnawed at you, and the more he ignored you, the more determined you became to get a reaction.

An opportunity presented itself when you passed by him in one of the narrower aisles.

As you squeezed past, you brushed against him deliberately, letting your skirt graze his thigh and pressing just enough to make it unmistakable. Smirking, you swayed harder against one particular spot in his trousers.

Fred inhaled sharply, his hands reflexively gripping your waist for a brief moment before you stepped away.

You didn’t look back, but you felt the heat of his gaze as you continued to the other side of the shop, humming as you strolled away.

As you returned to the register to finish a sale later, you noticed a folded piece of parchment resting on the counter. Your name was scrawled on it in Fred’s familiar handwriting. You unfolded it, your heartbeat rapidly increasing upon reading the words:

“My office. Now. – F”

The knot in your stomach tightened as you made your way upstairs. Merlin, what did he want now?

You pushed open the door to find Fred sitting behind his desk, a glass of whisky in his hand. His eyes were dark, his usual humour replaced by something colder, more commanding, almost scary but not quite.

“Come here,” he said, his voice low and firm.

You stepped closer after shutting the door, your pulse racing. Standing in front of his desk now, you waited, unsure of what to expect.

“Sit on my lap,” he ordered, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving you, following your every move.

You hesitated for a split second before obeying, perching lightly on his lap. His hands came to rest on your thighs, firm but not rough, as if he was testing the boundaries.

“Who said you could flirt with customers?” he asked, his tone laced with jealousy.

“I wasn’t flirting,” you said quickly, your voice soft. “I was just being polite. Accommodating him.”

Fred’s jaw tightened, and he let out a low hum of disapproval. “Accommodating? Is that what you call it?”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt, brushing lightly against your skin. “You’ve got some nerve, you know,” he murmured. “Walking around in this dress, brushing past me like that…”

Your breath hitched, your cheeks burning. “I didn’t mean to—” A white lie.

He cut you off with a soft chuckle, though it lacked humour. “Didn’t mean to, hmm? Then what was that little stunt earlier? Testing me, were you?”

You didn’t know how to respond, his intensity leaving you flustered and unsure.

Slowly but sensually, Fred began caressing your inner thigh, stroking softly and inching his way up to your clit, but not quite touching it. Though only a simple gesture, you felt a rush to your core, finding yourself throbbing and wanting more of his touch.

"You shouldn't have started something you can't finish love." He cooed into your ear.

You bit your lip, "I can finish it.." confident in your head, but a whisper came out, you felt weak under his touch like this.

"Oh really?" Fred raised a brow, "and how do you plan on doing that?" He was amused by your counter, a smug smirk appearing on that devilishly handsome face of his.

You sat there silently, avoiding eye contact him, unsure of how to respond. To be honest, you were inexperienced, you hadn't been this close to a man, in well, forever.

He chuckled lowly, one hand creeping up your skirt again, his fingertips tracing the hem of your panties causing you to involuntarily move forward.

Your body tenses, you held your breath as he continued. His fingers find your clit, circling it through the fabric of your now soaking panties. You let out a whimper in response to his touch.

Fred then finds the sweet sensitive spot on your neck, attaching his lips and sucking. His free hand reaches up and massages your tits sensually while the other hand continues with your clit.

"Let me show you love, let me take care of you..." He nips at your neck a few times before continuing, "By the time I'm done, the whole store will know my name and that you're mine."

You let out a soft moan as Fred uses two fingers to slide your panties down, the cold air hitting the exposed skin under your skirt.

His pants were now wet, both from you, and his precum. You felt a bit embarrassed that you soaked his pants but he was alright with it, in fact, he loved it.

"I don't want to see anymore flirting in my store, especially not with you." Fred's voice was deep, hoarse and almost possessive.

He presses two fingers inside of you, stretching you before flexing his fingers. You whined in response to his long slender fingers, panting heavily as he begins to work them faster inside of you, stretching you more.

Fred works on your cunt and you feel yourself growing hotter, more desperate for him. You arch your back, one arm is wrapped around his nape and the other gripping the table for support.

You fidget slightly, occasionally twitching due to the pleasure, "Fred...I'm getting close..." You whine.

The tight feeling in your core continues to build up, begging for a release soon. You get louder and louder as Fred continues fingering you, slightly faster now. "Fred!" You moan, you're getting extremely close.

Your back arches again, toes curling, and your left fingers practically are digging into his desk.

"Fred...I'm gonna....I'm gonna cu-" Your orgasm burns, erupting in your cunt and your mind explodes with ecstasy, sending a wave of pleasure over you but Fred doesn't stop, he continues.

"Fred please-" You whine, feeling overstimulated, your breathless and feeling another orgasm coming up.

"Merlin, you're so perfect love." He praises, watching you at his mercy, breathless on his lap.

Hearing him praise you like that, made another orgasm come round the corner. He really knew how to push your buttons, in the all the right ways possible.

"I can't take it! I'm getting close again...Fred! Please-" You whimper, as he picks up the pace again.

"Go on, come for me love. I want to hear your pretty moans, love it when my name slips from that pretty mouth of yours." He praised again, and you let loose.

Your walls throbbed, pulsing incredible fast, another pleasurable wave rushed over your body. "Oh God! Fred!" You moaned, before your head fall against his shoulder weakly.

He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead, before carrying you bridal style, getting up from his seat and placing you on his desk.

You sat up straight, facing him, your knees on both sides of his hips and he stood between them.

"You did amazing love." Fred praises, his hands sliding on your thighs, parting them and keeping your legs open for what's to come. His shirt was half unbuttoned, pants soaking, and fluffy hair slightly tousled.

"Please Fred...I want you inside me." You plead, glancing up at him with doe eyes.

He groaned softly upon seeing you in front of him, half naked on the table, and he was about to fuck you. He wanted you so bad, he needed you.

"Alright darling." He hums, unbuttoning his belt, letting his cock spring free.

Your eyes grew wide, you'd always assume he was big, but Merlin, he was packing. You felt yourself grow excited upon seeing him, biting your lip unconsciously.

He wraps a hand around his cock, guiding it to your entrance before pressing into you. The tip of his swollen head easily slides against your wetness, sliding with ease into your eager body.

At the intrusion, you tighten, "Merlin, Fred!" You moan, whimpering as he slides out then presses his hips against yours as he slips his cock all the way inside you, deeper than before.

"Mhm you feel so good around me love, so tight for me." He hums, moving faster, leaning forward to give you a kiss. You kiss him passionately but sweetly, sliding your tongue against his bottom lip while he keeps the same pace thrusting into you.

Your arms rest on the table for support, you tilt your head back whimpering at the pleasure of your hips colliding and feeling Fred inside you.

He keeps his hands planted on your hips, "Fuck, you feel so good Y/N, you're perfect you know that." Fred moans.

"I'm yours Fred..." You wince, "all yours..."

"And I'm yours, no one is going to change that." Fred responds, leaning in for another kiss. "Shit- I'm getting close..." He thrusts harder and faster, his climax quickly building up.

"Gonna release on your stomach love, that all good?" He breathlessly asks, to which you nod as a reply, unable to speak as you feel yourself reaching your climax too.

You don't last any longer, your body tensing as an orgasm erupts through you. You try to speak but only a whine escapes, throwing your head back, you lay on the desk, bare, exposed and breathing heavily.

Fred's hips rock harshly a few more times before slipping out, releasing on your tummy, every last drop coming onto your tummy. "Merlin..." He groans, throwing his head back, his broad shoulders rising and falling.

He removes his hands from your waist, proceeding to help clean you up and adjusting your dress properly. Picking you up, he carries you bridal style and lays you on the long leather couch in his office.

"You can take the rest of the day off if you want love." He leans down, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I don't mind working..." You remark, "get to flirt with more people..." Your tone was teasing, smirking to get a reaction out of him.

"Flirt with them and I'll take you right then and there in front of them." He retorted, playfully.

You stand up, walking towards Fred, who was getting changed into something...cleaner and more decent, "So territorial." you spoke, helping him with his tie.

Fred tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Can't have them thinking they have a chance.”

“Please I might as well wear a shirt that says 'Taken by Fred Weasley'...” you joked.

"Not a bad idea..." He hummed, looking down at you while you finished off with his tie.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile, "You know I only have eyes for you Fred Weasley, no one comes close."

“That's my girl,” he said, his tone softer now but still edged with authority. He leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was as possessive as it was tender, leaving you breathless. "My perfect girl."

When he finally pulled back, his eyes held a glint of satisfaction. “Now, get back to work,” he said, a teasing smirk returning to his lips. “There’s more where that came from.”

As you reached the door, you glanced back to find him watching you, his gaze warm now but still with a flicker of desire.

"I'll join you downstairs shortly." He winked, and you felt your cheeks heat again as you shut the door behind you, your heart raced as you returned to the shop floor, acting as though nothing had happened upstairs.

___

"Bloody hell, where were you two?!" George, finishing a sale, waved a customer goodbye before turning to you and Fred.

"We had some business to take care of." Fred answered for you guys, placing his hand on your lower back.

George scoffed, a knowing look flashed in his eyes, darting back and forth between you, "Yeah alright sure, business."

"Well I'm off on a date with Angelina, can you two handle the shop for the few hours?" George continued.

"What do you take me for? A slacker?" Fred replied, "Pft of course we can handle it, now go have fun." He ushered his twin away, and George, confused, grabbed his belongings and waved us goodbye, turning back occasionally to make sure the store didn't crash down under Fred's control.

"Round 2?" Fred whispered, a teasing undertone once George was out of sight.

You playfully hit him, chuckling, "We have a shop to run Weasley!"

He laughed softly, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before getting back to work.

[hyammsh]

A call to those with awakened consciences🙏. Don't forget to give me a minute of your time and donate as much as you can

please donate and do not abandon my family and children. We are dying every minute.. Stand with us and help us achieve the temporary goal of 6,500 euros. We trust you to save us

We only need €4940to reach €6500 We are now at €6006 We need a donation asap to save my children and family from genocidal war.

Time is running out

Tagging some people to help by donating and/or sharing:🙏🙏🙏 @godspersonalclown @murenaaaaa @blue-glasses-dork @tomathomatommy @whimsical-musingss @ctechnoblade @nerdytextileartist @helloemptyset @rhythm-of-the-wardrums @paper-mario-wiki @punkitt-is-here @peri-requiem @antixabound @antixabound @shadowinthetrees@charrednewt @apocalyptic-dancehall @nevert-the-guy @x-critter2022 @bigboobshaunt @maxknightley @jesterraconteuse @ikeepforgettimypassword @averagenotnormal @jenqatower@kingofthebookcase @funhousefreakwrites @redacted-metallum @quartzyposts @6yin6yang6 @mazm-imagines @ur-local-anxiety-gremlin @sminny-wew @ocherednoe-dno @wolf-tail@stabbedwitharustyynail @keysmandude @hamsterlover38 @phoibos-querella @arachnidtub@mansikka-wizard @welcometogrouchland @willowthighpillow @ssenza @shikse @gh4ul @sundung @fandom-master-mind @aconstantallegory @proffittproductions @romdocitizen @determinate-negation @deepspaceboytoy @paper-mario-wiki @kibumkim @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @rooh-afza @knownoshamc @the-awkward-reblobber @peachyleechy @loonarmuunar @soft-sunbird @cockworkangels @dannyketch @cramenjoyer @oreobunny2@soopertiddies @inthecornerofyourbedroom @aurorae-return @spindly-counting @depressedthembo @moronicprincess @the-mold-under-your-bed123 @nyenyel @linz-creations @we-eat-our-young @koscheiy @cyclopsboxhead

Help Hyam Shehab save her family

@hyamshehabfamile and her family are once again facing an unforgiving winter in the midst of ongoing oppression, disease, a lack of food and clean water, and inhumane conditions.

Their main goal is €60,000 to reach safety, but they are setting a temporary goal of €10,000 by the end of the week to cover the costs of warm clothes, food, and other immediate needs for 6 people.

As of December 2, 2024, this campaign has raised €3,443 / €10,000

Please donate if you can and share! This is a time sensitive short-term goal

This campaign is line 127 on the Gaza Vetters list

tagging for reach

@anamiques @vague-humanoid @andromachos @wutheringheightsfilm @solroja @lesboevils @evilbisexualonline @lovetren @xenomorphique @bedcorpse @keithers @mossymagpie @in-need-of-another-name @thetragiclown @soggy-paradise @same-png @ispyspookymansion @dickmaster @geometric-orcas @angelsaxis @vamprisms @heritageposts @colorisbyshe @mpregbts @dlxxv-vetted-donations @chilewithcarnage @2spirit-0spoons @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @femmefitz

[dara-art]

Fragments of the cover of the second volume of the printed version of the fanfic "Platinum and Chocolate" by Nastya Chatskaya

The covers were made as part of the non-commercial fanfiction printing project Wizard's Way

❗️Please do not use

[daniislesbi]

Ok, is there any gelphie canon divergence fanfics where Glinda goes with Elephaba?... I can't stop making head canons about them escaping and Glinda is like yapping all the time and Elephaba is like: well you choose to come with me? And Glinda is like: well I have the right to yapp. And they're in a crusade to help the animals and it's very difficult but they have each other?

Or one where in that hot air balloon?? ( that's how is called?) Both of them could escape and Glinda is like mad at Elephaba for ruining their lives and Morrible and the wizard of Oz are spreading the rumor that she kidnapped Glinda or something I need fanfics after those deleted scenes... please help me 🥹

[hotvintagepoll]

Ray Bolger (The Wizard of Oz)—It's me, the person who wanted to fuck the scarecrow last time. I still want to fuck the scarecrow. You don't know what he means to me. If I could humiliate myself in front of my entire class with an in depth power point slide presentation on ""why ray bolger is a great dancer"" (translation: I Want To Fuck The Scarecrow) then you can help me in preaching his gospel on the internet.

Pablo Alvarez Rubio (Dracula)—it’s fucking craaaazy he plays renfield but it’s like if you took dwight frye’s renfield (already 4 inches tall and bisexual and mentally ill) and crumpled him up and badly flattened him back out again. he’s in a permanent flop sweat he has eyeliner he has a heap of curly greasy black hair he’s got a big cute nose and big sad brown eyes. it’s such a good role if you like a guy who whimpers. he’s sooo scrumply but in real life pablo was a boxer so like. how did he crumple himself up into that sad sopping wet tragic floor puppy so effectively

This is round 3 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you’re confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Pablo Alvarez Rubio:

"make sure you’re on the 4th video at this link (Dracula (Spanish)) then you’ll want the scene starting at 37:30 . i’m sorry it’s in spanish but in short he talks about being a lawyer and then gets distracted by needing to catch a fly."

[editor's note: please watch the link above. it is truly exemplary.]

Ray Bolger:

An absolutely adorable icon! With his rubber-faced expression, and fantastic dancing skills, he is always a delight to watch.

[fierceawakening]

I really, really would like anyone and everyone who says “there are other wizard books” to read this.

If you want to judge someone for buying something because of its creator’s politics, go right ahead. If you want to judge someone for continuing to like something they would never again buy, please pay less attention to the contents of other people’s heads and more attention to the contents of your own.

(And if you ever say both “thoughtcrime isn’t real” and “find other books?” Stop talking forever.)

I hate when an artist gets exposed for being a bad person and people start the narrative “why would you even want to listen to their shitty music” when are we going to be freed from the idea that only good people create good art and bad people create bad art. It just makes it harder for these types of people to be exposed because now you got people thinking “how is this possible, his music is so good!”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 7 - First Death

@wolfstarmicrofic January 7, word count 370

Remus stared into the rectangular hole in the ground, the pile of dug-up soil placed beside it. 

“I loved him so much,” Sirius sniffled at his side, holding tight to Remus’s gloved hand. 

“I know, sweetheart,” He said as comfortingly as he could. 

“I don’t know how to go on, Remus,” Sirius was sobbing now, hot tears trailing down his cheeks.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Sirius, it was a damn flobberworm!” Remus snapped. “Sorry,” He said calmer, he shouldn’t have snapped, but Sirius was being a bit ridiculous.

“Mr Flobbers was my very best friend, and now he’s gone,”

“If he was such a good friend, why did you leave him with Peter?” Remus asked, biting the inside of his cheeks to keep from smiling.

“Well, how was I supposed to know he would turn out to be a murderer?” Sirius cried, glowering at Remus through tear-filled eyes. 

“That’s a bit harsh, Sirius,” Remus started. 

“HE SAT ON HIM!!! How is that not murder?” Remus couldn’t help it now. He burst into peals of laughter. The corners of Sirius’s cheeks began twitching and a few seconds later he was laughing as well. 

“I told you I was sorry!” Peter sniffed, getting upset at Sirius’s outburst. 

“I know Pete, don’t worry about it,” Sirius said, clapping him on the back as they watched James slowly lower Mr Flobbers into the ground and push the small pile of soil over the top of him.

“I hope we dug this deep enough so that Mrs Norris won’t dig him up,” James said as he stood up. Remus rolled his eyes. He swore half the time these purebloods forgot they were wizards. He took out his wand and performed a protection charm over the grave. 

“There,” He told them, taking Sirius’s hand and heading back towards the castle.

“Thank you, Remus,” Sirius said, reaching up and kissing his cheek. Remus returned the kiss and gave his fingers a quick squeeze. 

“Shall we sneak out to the Three Broomsticks and raise a glass for Mr Flobbers?”

“Oh, yes, please,” Sirius smiled sweetly at Remus as they made their way up to the third floor and into the secret passageway hidden by the one-eyed witch statue. 

[tamayula-hl]

TAMA IT'S YOUR DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE WE WANT TO SEE!! It's no matter if cultural values are different - because the story you want to write is filtered through YOUR lens, the characters are interpreted through your lens only, a.k.a. you set the philosophical/cultural context of your story regardless of the original context your source material is based on. If you use your SebxOC dynamic (you have already explained her background in your OC posts), the dual cultural values will actually factor in your story in an extremely fitting manner.

I would really, really like to see things your way, or even how you interpet a foreign value system in your story. This is one of the reasons I think you don't need to be writing in English! I know it is discouraging to know people are losing the nuances of your work by putting it through a translator, because there are subtleties to every language which cannot be caught when translated ('male' and 'female' speech, choosing a level of distance/formality, relation of the individual self to the mass public etc.), but please know we will try to catch on as well as we can! Don't dilute your work for us, even if you feel the need to - it's the reader's job to interpret the text, not the author's to explain it!

I'm excited to read everything you write - writing is never useless in a fandom. You never know if what you write is exactly what someone wants to read!! GO TAMA!!

Aww, I'm really grateful and happy to receive such strong words of encouragement. Thank you so much🙇‍ I want to write a novel about the charm of the Wizarding World and HL characters seen through the perspective and values ​​of Sakurako, a typical Japanese person, and the dynamics of how a woman with Japanese values ​​interacts with Sebastian, and as you say, I think that if I were to write a novel in this fandom, I would have to use these differences in values ​​as a weapon.

And it was really encouraging to hear you say that I can just submit the novel in Japanese. However, if I take the time to write and post a novel, I want as many people as possible to read it, and considering that almost no one has read the Japanese novels I have posted in the past, I think I may need to translate the novel into English for my own sake 🥹

And because sentences that maintain the style of a Japanese novel will end up in English that are quite strange and incomprehensible even if I use DeepL or ChatGPT (mainly sentences that are considered more beautiful when omitting the subject, which is unique to Japanese, are a huge hurdle when translating into English), I think I will write Japanese sentences that are easy for machines to read, such as ChatGPT, and that clearly state the subject (and that are very strange and unrefined from a Japanese speaker's perspective).

Sentences that are refined as Japanese while retaining the unique nuances of a Japanese novel and sentences that are easy to translate into machine translation are completely different, and it is a very difficult choice to decide which one to discard. Should I post both the original Japanese version and the English translation? 🤣 Anyway, this language barrier is really bothering and bothering me.

If I had English skills, this problem would be almost solved, but I regret and feel ashamed that I didn't study English as hard as I could for the past two years. First of all, I'm going to start by writing out the lines that appear in HL's main quest line and Seb's quest line in English, reading their meanings, and memorizing them. 🥹 I have to continue studying art, and this is the beginning of days where I will have to cut down on my eating and sleeping time even more. 💪

[summerhuntresses]

the good man scorns

[ao3]

Same song, same dance, same smile and laughter and graceful wave everywhere she went. The bubble was beginning to feel like it was the only real thing in her life.

OR,

A glance into the mindset of a grieving good witch, during the celebration of a wicked witch's death.

~~~

No one mourns the wicked, indeed.

Same song, same dance, same smile and laughter and graceful wave everywhere she went. The bubble was beginning to feel like it was the only real thing in her life, buoying her from dream to dream as she spread the news of Elph- of the Witch’s death. It really was all starting to blur together, the faces of her fellow Ozians upturned to her so eagerly as they waited to hear the news she brought.

She could tell them anything, really. Part of her wanted to, just to see how long it would take before they realized she was lying. Would they realize the lie? The Wizard had been a terrible person, and Morrible worse yet, but they had been effective in their work. Oz had never been more docile, its communities less willing to think for themselves. El- The Witch had tried, flitting from town to village to sanctuary with her message of hope and truth and revolution, but she had been one person fighting an uphill battle against the tireless propaganda machine of the Emerald City. There had never been a chance.

There had never been a chance and Glinda had told her, said exactly that in the clock tower all those years ago. Oz, even the Wizard had told her! But no, Elpha- the Witch had had her morals, would never have aligned with the Wizard after he had revealed his deceit to her, even just for a short time. She would rather have martyred herself on the altar of her own resolve, uncompromising to the end.

Well, Glinda hopes she was happy when she died. She hopes she was happy as she burned, hopes that she found peace in the knowledge that she never betrayed her principles even as the whole world aligned itself against her. Glinda hopes her willful, stubborn shortsightedness brought her utter fucking bliss in the end, when she died alone and in agony with the entirety of Oz united in hatred against her and her cause.

Glancing down at the crowd clamoring beneath her, Glinda had to suppress a laugh that she knew would have come out far, far too jagged to be appropriate for the celebrations. The thought that any of the shamelessly naive Munchkinlanders dancing in the square would have the slightest idea of what it was the Witch had been doing was funny. She knew good and well that some of the people below her had known Elpha-

She breathed.

Some of the people below her had more than likely known Elphaba as a child, had been the ones who hurt her so badly she had come to Shiz with walls like a fortress insulating her from the world. It hadn’t mattered. It didn’t stop them from turning on her, condemning her, hating her. 

Was it you, she wondered. A handsome young Munchkin twirled a pregnant woman, laughing as they stepped on a ripped wanted poster. Were you the ones who threw stones at a child who had never done anything but want to be loved? A group of washerwomen chattered as they worked, dipping their hands into troughs stamped with instructions on precisely how to kill the Witch. Would you even remember if it was?

No, it hadn’t mattered a single bit. Once the Wizard told them to hate, they hated. Once Morrible told them to fear, they feared. Once Glinda the Good told them to celebrate, they laughed and cheered and danced like children.

She looked down at the sea of faces before her, men and women and children blending together until all she saw was a single being, one soul in many bodies that reached and grasped and pawed at her, desperate to be spoon-fed the honey-sweet cocktail of lies and fear and twisted truth that they had been gobbling up for years while saying ‘thank you’ and asking for more, please, always more.

Pain shot through her jaw where she had clenched her teeth, biting down on nothing as she forced herself to keep smiling. They were dragging something into the square- an effigy, she felt herself realize. A straw mockery of Elphaba, forty feet tall and adorned with the hat she had given her on the day Glinda had been seeing in her dreams for the last ten years. It took her a moment to see the sign hanging from her- from its neck, hateful words stark and black before her eyes. 

Kill the witch.

Well, Glinda mused, it’s a bit late for that.

There was a heavy, pounding pressure rising behind her eyes, fury and grief and despair blending together and urging her to do something that she knew she would regret. It felt a bit like one of Elphaba’s flying monkeys was trying to claw its way out from beneath her ribcage, claws rending and horrifying fangs tearing her delicate insides to shreds. It wouldn’t surprise her if she opened her mouth and blood came spraying out, mixing with the scream she had been holding in since that day at Kiamo Ko.

She kept smiling. A child gave her a flower to toss. She shook the hand of a young mother. The effigy rolled closer.

There was a kind of absentminded regret she was feeling, she realized, that she was so clearheaded in this moment. She spared a moment to wish that she could dissociate on command, could astral project, could use the Grimmerie to cast a single fucking spell that would help her not feel what was coming.

The effigy rolled closer. A man handed her a torch with a bow. Glinda felt white heat roll up through her bones and squeeze the air from her lungs, felt the insane urge to drop the torch and ram the pointed end of her wand into his eye, felt her knuckles go white.

She smiled, and threw the torch on the pyre.

Oh, she realized. I hate them.

She turned away, never letting her smile drop. Her entire body ached from how stiffly she held herself, but she could not make her muscles relax. She was still smiling, could feel the strain in her face, could see the Munchkinlanders light up with pride and joy and relief when they met her eyes.

It had been long enough, surely. The effigy would burn for hours and she had more stops to make on her impromptu tour of Oz. Much to do, she thought absently. The Palace alone would be hell to get under control, between rooting out Morrible’s spies and disbanding the Gale Force and squashing any residual Wizard sympathizers. She couldn’t spend her entire day standing in a backwater Munchkin village as they cheered the death of her- the death of the Witch.

As she stepped back into her chariot, hitting the button to form her bubble, she felt a faint shimmer of relief. Her younger self would laugh, she was sure, if told that one day she would become the most beloved ruler Oz had ever seen but would crave nothing more than solitude. 

Movement caught her eye, a young woman pushing her way to the front of the crowd. Glinda managed not to sigh, popping the bubble again. She had been so close to escaping these people, so close to blessed solitude away from- No, she cut herself off. Too far.

“Is it true you were her friend?” 

Glinda felt the air leave her lungs in a rush, the words landing like a sledgehammer.

The woman asked the question loudly, not shouting but projecting in a slow and measured way, obviously intending for the entire crowd to hear her clearly. The disgust in her tone was masked but still present, anger clear in her stance and the set of her jaw. A wave of gasps and horrified mutters swept through the crowd, people who had just minutes ago been laughing and smiling and bowing over her hand now staring judgmentally and with the stirrings of fear in their eyes.

“Friend?” Her voice was faint, memories rushing through her mind like a flood. Facing off in the courtyard. Dancing at the Ozdust. Running through the halls of Shiz. Lying in their shared room. Kissing on the train. Passing notes in class. Hand in hand, always hand in hand, attached at the hip, two parts of one whole- until they weren’t. Until that horrible, awful, nightmarish day where Elphaba had flown off the handle and flown off into the sky and left her behind because she was too stubborn, too moralistic, too good to stay.

Because Glinda was too cowardly, too selfish, too wicked to stay for.

“Friend.” She said the word slowly, tasting every letter as it left her lips. “No, not her friend.” The crowd breathed a sigh of relief, a single organism before her once more. The woman frowned, her mouth opening to say something else that Glinda didn’t care about. She continued, “They haven’t invented the words to describe what she was to me.”

She died for you, she thought but didn’t say. She died trying to save you and you burned her at the stake. 

The Munchkins were in an uproar but Glinda had no interest in soothing their feelings. Enough was enough. 

She tapped the button by her feet once more, sighing in relief as the bubble sprang into place and muted the furious clamor of the square. There were still six more stops on her tour, but she could get to them the next day. It was only an hour back to the Emerald City, and she was quite looking forward to taking a bath by herself and escaping the bleating of the sheep.