#prompt 11

[alphieshplife]

Ratio - @wolfstarmicrofic - wc: 436

“The queer:straight ratio in our friend group is 1:3. Not cool guys,” Sirius says. It’s late at night and the Marauders should be asleep, but N.E.W.T.s are finally over and it feels good to just…relax. 

Remus looks at him in confusion, his head cocked to the side like a dog. Sirius hates how endearing he finds it. “What are you talking about? It’s 1:1.”

“What are you talking about?” Sirius asks, feeling just as confused as Remus looks. “One gay guy–me–three straight guys–James, Pete, you.”

“What–Sirius, no–two queer guys–me and you–two straight guys–James and Pete.”

And just like that, Sirius’s whole world is turned upside down. 

Because here’s the thing: Sirius Black is head over heels in love with Remus Lupin. Has been for years. Everyone knows it, too. Not because he tells people, but because he is so ridiculously moon-eyed for Moony that everyone just…knows. And this whole time, he’s been operating under the assumption that Remus is straight. 

“I–what? You’re not queer.” 

“And you’re the expert on that, are you?” Remus asks, sounding almost bitter. “I thought you knew. I’m bisexual.”

“Literally why would I know that?” Sirius asks, trying his best not to get defensive. But really, why would he know that? And why would Remus assume he knows? “You’ve never bloody told me, how am I supposed to know?”

“How are you–” Remus looks at him like he has two heads, and James and Peter start laughing. It’s the first time in five minutes that Sirius remembers they’re sitting there. “Sirius, I’ve been flirting with you since we were fifteen.”

Sirius’s world turns upside down. Again. (If he had the brain capacity to spare, he’d be wondering if that meant his world was now right side up again. Unfortunately, there was barely enough firepower left over in his brain following exams to process this new, life altering information, much less to wonder over the philosophy of having his world warped so many times in such quick succession.)

“You what? No you haven’t.”

“You have to stop doing that,” Remus mumbles. When he continues, it’s back at full volume. “I have been. Just because you’re too thick to notice–”

“I’m too thick?” Sirius gasps. “Moons, the entire school can tell I fancy you, but I’m the thick one?”

“You what?” 

“Sounds like you’re both fucking thick,” Peter complains, rolling his eyes. “Would you two shut up and finally just kiss already? We’ve only been waiting for three bloody years.”

Personally, Sirius still thinks Remus is the thick one, but at least he’s a damn good kisser.

[foxsoulart]

Prompt 11 with Ghost Abduction Au

Prompt list

@truths33k3r4

(Don't think I've mentioned this before but Leon does get a body again in this au)

I had so much fun drawing this, not sure what he needs to go to the doctor for but he considers himself a perfectly adequate medic and doesn't think he needs anyone else for that. Is this grown man still a child and stubborn teenager at heart? Yes, yes he is.

Donnie is being soooo helpful and only filming.

[strawberrybasilsorbet]

Jilytober Day 11

Missed yesterday, but I'm hoping to go back when I have time! In the meantime, here's my try at today's @jilytoberfest prompt:

October 11th Prompt: 🎶“Uncovering feelings unfound”🎶 - Out of the Blue by Katie Pruitt

Lily peeked out from behind the corner of the cricket shed before surreptitiously lighting her cigarette. Smoking wasn't prohibited, but her break wasn't officially supposed to start for another twenty minutes; it had only been thanks to some fairly pitiable wrangling — and a promise to take on her Friday shift — that Anne had agreed to cover the last hour so that Lily could decompress.

Closing her eyes, Lily leaned her head back against the shed and sunk to the ground, taking a long drag. It was only half-past noon, but some blokes had made a mess of one of her tables at the pub last night, and she hadn't finished closing until after one in the morning. She was already looking forward to sinking into bed.

In the distance, she heard a splash and a shout. It sounded like some kid had flipped his canoe again. She snickered a little; Anne would definitely be more annoyed about switching shifts now that she needed to get her hair wet.

It had been a long summer. Seventh year was going to be expensive — she'd need money to pay the application fees if she wanted to try for a Healing apprenticeship, to pick up a set of dress robes for the Leavers' Ball, to make a deposit on a flat rental after she finished Hogwarts — and Lily was trying to save as much as she could. Most mornings, she got on the bus for her day job at the nearest holiday camp, only to take the 5pm back to Cokeworth, eat a quick supper, and start her evening shift at Oscar's pub. Lily didn't mind hard work, but after six weeks of both jobs, she was beginning to feel run down.

At least she didn't have to spend much time at her own place. Between Tuney's sniping at home and Sev's lurking around the park, hoping she'd forget his horrible behavior at school now that his pack of Death Eater-wannabes wasn't around, it was hard to get a moment's peace.

She took another drag. Maybe she could talk Oscar into putting her on the early side tonight. He owed her, after the amount of mopping up she'd done yesterday...

"There you are, Evans!"

Lily jumped and opened her eyes. She thought she'd heard...but that made no sense...

"Potter?" She blinked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Improbably, James Potter — wearing a fairly convincing set of Muggle clothes, although his orange checkered polo shirt clashed horrendously with a pair of short, salmon-pink trousers — was striding toward her from the nearby woods, looking far too cheerful for the August heat. "Looking for you!" he said affably. "It seemed a nice day for a visit, and we'd been getting on well this summer, so I thought—"

"Potter, I'm at work." She stared in surprise.

He had the grace to turn a bit sheepish. "Oh, I'm sorry, Evans," he said, looking around. "Is now is a bad time?"

"No, I just—." Lily blushed. She'd given Potter her address earlier this summer — only so he could practice with the Muggle post, of course — and suddenly, she realized that she'd been writing him rather a lot.

Potter made a surprisingly charming pen friend. His letters, full of witty jokes and updates about his summer with his mates, were a welcome connection to the magical world and a relief from her tense avoidance of Sev and Tuney. More than once, she'd found herself looking forward to reading them as she came home from the pub, or scribbling quick replies by wandlight so she could get them in the mail before she caught the morning bus to camp.

"I just — how did you get here, anyway?"

"I stopped by your house," said James, shrugging. "Remember, you gave me your address? Someone — I think your mum? — answered the door and said that you were here." He still looked abashed. "I guess she might not have expected me to come by, but she said you might not be home until quite late, so I thought—"

"That's alright—"

"I can visit another day—"

"No, it's really okay, Potter," said Lily, who by now was quite red. Somehow, it wasn't the fact that Potter had showed up at her job, but the unflattering color of her uniform swimsuit that was on Lily's mind. She hadn't brushed her hair this morning, and she'd been sweating in the heat... "They're not too fussy here, and I'm basically on my break, anyway. It's nice to see you." She took another drag on her snuck cigarette, trying to look a bit less flustered. "You just showed up a bit out of the blue, that's all."

"Literally," said Potter, with a playful smile. He gestured toward the cloudless sky. "Stashed my broomstick in the trees back there."

She groaned theatrically at the terrible wordplay, knocking him with her shoulder. "Too scared to take the bus, Potter?"

"Oh, certainly. Petrol is too advanced for me, I'm still grasping bicycles."

She grinned. She knew perfectly well that Potter had likely passed his Muggle Studies exam with flying colors, as he did most of his others. "If you stick around until 5 o'clock, I'm happy to show you the ropes on my way back to Cokeworth."

"Gladly," said James. He peered curiously around the shed, taking in the archery setup, large lake, and row of cabins just beyond the cricket field. "What do you do here, anyway?"

"It's a holiday camp," Lily explained. "Families come to play games and get away from home for a bit during the summer."

"They don't holiday abroad?"

"God, you're posh." Lily rolled her eyes. "Why go to France, honestly, when you could stay at camp and win the donkey derby?"

"The what?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," said Lily.

"I have to see this. You run a donkey derby?"

"Not me personally," Lily said, giggling. "I'm hopeless with animals. I mostly serve lunch or take shifts dragging the little kids out of the lake."

"Why are the kids in the lake?"

"Oh, we do canoeing on one half and swimming on the other. Except sometimes the canoeing turns into swimming, because there's always some troublemakers flipping their boat on purpose."

James grinned. "Good for them."

"I'm appalled," Lily replied. "Are you trying to make my job harder, Potter?"

"In this weather?" said James. "Nah. I'm giving you an excuse to cool off, I expect."

James's eyes flickered to her swimsuit and quickly away. Lily swallowed, suddenly wishing she'd finished her shift after all. "I'm tied up tonight," she said, "but if you were to come back another day...if I took a night off from my evening job, I mean, and you wanted to go for a dip?"

James looked up. "Yeah," he said, a bit too eagerly. "Just because it's so hot, I mean," he said, smoothing out his tone. Lily noticed, amused, that his voice had suddenly got a bit deeper. She put out her cigarette, noticing that her earlier exhaustion had vanished.

"Well, alright then," she said. "It's a date." James gave her a dimpled smile. She hadn't noticed how sweet his smile was, before.

Where had it come from, this strange new fondness between them? Was it a fleeting thing, driven by Lily's exhaustion and James's boredom — destined to fall off with the autumn leaves when they returned to school, and to the old habits of their old stomping grounds? Or, maybe, could their letters be turning into something, well...a little bit more, maybe, lasting, or...

"Can anyone come to these holiday camps?" James asked, interrupting Lily's train of thought. "Because if donkey derbying is allowed, I want to kick Sirius's arse."

Lily threw her head back with a laugh. "With a day pass," she told him, "but if you've got a connection on the staff, she can probably sneak you in for free."

[pillow-anime-talk]

Hello! May i request 11 with Dazai and Chuuya (she/her pronouns please)

# tags: scenario; friendship; a bit of fluff; but also kind of drama and angst; love triangle; one sided love; friendzoned; study!au; reader has no idea; sfw

includes: female reader ft. osamu dazai & chuuya nakahara {bsd}

author’s note: nooo :( poor chuuya and dazai :(((

11. “I– I like both of you…”

Chuuya – even though he didn’t have to – picked you up from your university every day, feeling obliged to make sure you returned safely to your small, two-room flat near the city center. You were studying and in your third year in your chosen field; you were also in the process of writing a thesis that would be the culmination of your whole work. Your close friend was really caring, although you tried to explain to him that you didn’t need a bodyguard at all.

But then the thought popped into your head that Chuuya was doing this on purpose to invite himself to your apartment for dinner, and while it wasn’t entirely true in the young man’s eyes, that was how you tried to explain it, giggling to yourself.

Very often, halfway or at the end, right next to the entrance to your tenement house, Osamu was waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear – your second dear friend and at the same time your former-but-regular-customer who often left you tips when you were working in a cafe as a cashier. Even though his tips were never huge, talking to him and his friendly expression always brightened your mood, even on the gloomiest and rainiest of days.

You met a red-haired man with a hat on his head one night when you were returning from a meeting with your friends from university; you drank one beer with raspberry juice and walked home late at night – on the way to the tenement house, you accidentally bumped into an older and incredibly aggressive man who immediately raised his voice at you, insulting you and ridiculing your way of being. Paralyzed, you didn’t know what to do: apologize, run away, answer rudely that he wasn’t looking ahead...? But instead, you slowly stepped back, and as he tried to grab your wrist, he was immediately pushed back, and your body was covered by the shadow of a young boy with long, fox-like hair. Your rescuer introduced himself to you by his full name and then offered to walk you home. You hesitantly agreed to this, and perhaps this moment caused Chuuya to this day to be very worried about you and your night returns – first from work during the summer, and then from university.

“... Dazai.” Your companion muttered, and the taller man just chuckled.

“Hello, Y/N.” As befits a gentleman, your other male friend took your hand in his much warmer one and then placed a short, yet tender kiss on your skin. You greeted the twenty-two-year-old, inviting him over for tea. It was just the perfect time to sit at the table, eat some sweets and drink something warm, especially since the weather outside was looking more and more like real autumn.

While climbing the stairs and opening the bright door to your place, the two men behind your back kept teasing each other with glances and gestures.

Neither Osamu, whom you charmed during your first meeting in the cafe when you painted a tiny daisy on his coffee, nor Chuuya, who you thanked for saving – probably – your life and gave him a charming paper bag full of handmade and decorated cookies, didn’t like sharing you with each other.

They both thought that your relation was much stronger and more honest than the other one – after all with Chuuya you talked about studies, cooking, wine and music. With him that you occasionally went out for a drink or to the club, had fun on the dance floor and then took a taxi back to your or his apartment, laughing a lot. However, the brown-haired detective had a different opinion. Maybe because with Osamu you had amazing adventures when he took you to the shooting range and when he helped you decorate your smol nest, while having an incredible understanding of colors and types of wood?

With one you felt incredibly safe, while the other was your cure for every, even the smallest, mental ailment. You had known each other for over two years and at that moment you really couldn’t imagine your life without this crazy boy who got drunk very quickly, or without this idiot who constantly said something about suicide and his other friends.

Seeing them with ‘their’ cups in their hands and hearing their compliments on the cupcakes you baked the day before made you feel really happy. So you quickly got up from the table and excused yourself for a moment, going to the second, very tiny room, which only contained your bed and a tiny nightstand with a lamp.

In the drawer there were two tiny packages. You grabbed them in your hands and returned to the two men who were looking at each other with hostility in their eyes.

“Umm…” You hesitantly walked towards them, holding out both of your hands. The blue bundle went to the taller man, and the green one to the slightly shorter one. “You know perfectly well how much you mean to me.” You started more confidently, trying to smile softly. “I– I like both of you…” You breathed a sigh of relief as you said the words, then blinked your eyes, trying not to get emotional. “You are equally valuable to me, although I have a slightly different relation with each of you and we support each other in completely different ways. It’s just a little thing in gratitude for everything you have done and are doing for me. Both of you. As my best friends.”

In a way, both Osamu and Chuuya were extremely happy knowing that they were so damn important to you, and the key chains in the little boxes only made them more confident of what an amazing girl, friend, soulmate you were to them. One showed an adorable, gray octopus with a huge smile and round eyes, while the other showed a chick with yellow plumage and a laughing expression. This gift really gave them a lot of joy.

On the other hand, calling them ‘friends’ and putting them on equal terms was very insulting to them. Because they were both in love with you, they couldn’t stand the thought that you would never look at them as anything other than colleagues, acquaintances or buddies. Chuuya wanted to drink wine with you on your anniversaries and other important dates, while Dazai wanted to take your hand and steal a kiss on your lips, not on the skin of your fingers.

Nevertheless, they thanked you for the gifts, and you accepted their thanks with a smile, repeating once again that they were really important to you and you were really happy that your fates were connected.

[siren-darkocean]

Flufftober 2024

Prompt 11 of 31

Prompt - Ingredients & Spells

Fandom - Randy Cunningham 9th Grade Ninja (Samurai Series AU Past Events)

Ship - First Ninja/OC

Rating - Teen & Up

Warnings - Descriptions of Injury

Extra - 13th Century Events of First Ninja and First Samurai, Fairies (aka I used Ancient Magus' Bride fae for reference), Hardcore Crushing, She Fell First He Fell Harder, Wisteria, BG Demon Problems, Spike Pit (aka Barbie as Rapunzel when Rapunzel and Prince Stephan met scene referenced), First Ninja having a name besides First Ninja, Ninja Art of Healing Used

The fact we’re stuck doing this because of a demon.” Grey eyes rolled at that as their owner sighed and carefully plucked a sage. “Takeshi, this isn’t the worst we’ve delt with and you know it.” She told her partner as she carefully placed the sage in the woven basket in her elbow. Takeshi huffed a bit at that, “Ah yes but it doesn’t make it any different Asami.” He told the ebony haired woman who sighed and held a hand out to a blue reptilian like fae who leaned to her touch.

That was a major line difference between the two; while Takeshi as the Ninja was more of the dark arts with the Tengu demon feathers woven into the suit giving its abilities, Asami as the Samurai was more of the light arts and the fae due to her connection with them as the fairy queen created and gave her the Samurai Crystal.

As if their personalities weren’t a big deal of it as well.

Slowly but surely I'm getting caught up on @flufftober prompts (ignoring I posted this a day after the last one shush)

But here have some Past AU events of Samurai Series lore featuring First Ninja and First Samurai

[chocoblep]

#11: Spitting

Prompt: Surrogate

Rhyle looked up at the fat, heavy storm clouds that had rolled in over Quarrymill. He’d been helping one of the hume residents repair a garden box in exchange for a few seedlings that he could practice his abilities on, and of course, now that the weatherproofing stain on the outside was curing, the sky threatened rain. Sighing, he joined the hume and helped her lift the thing without touching the outsides of the box so that they could carry it under the large awning at the side of the house.

“This weather’s been crazy the last few days, I tell ya,” she said, clucking her tongue with disappointment. “A bell ago? No sign of rain. Now? It’s almost spittin’ already! Good thing this thing’s at least halfway dry already; I’d have hated to still be staining it when the rain started.”

Rhyle’s ear closest to the hume swiveled toward her, and he must have been giving her a strange look, because she furrowed her brow in confusion after they set the box down on the ground.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Rhyle answered honestly giving her a little shrug as they began to walk back around the side of the house toward the front door. “I am just wondering whose spit you’re talking about.”

The hume blinked owlishly at him, and then snorted. “The sky, of course! When it’s just starting to rain, I call it spittin’! IT comes down a little at a time, in spurts, usually, like the sky’s goin’ PTOOEY!” She exaggerated a spitting motion, like she was aiming for a spitoon, and Rhyle just made a face.

“Ah. So as others say, sprinkling,” he clarified, and she bobbed her head in a nod, brown curls shifting over one shoulder. 

“Sprinklin’. Spittin’. Same thing, justabouts.” After a moment’s pause, she opened the door to her garden shed and retrieved the three potted seedlings she’d promised him, all lined up on a little wooden tray for ease of carrying. “Well, here ya are, Rhyle. Payment as promised.”

He nodded and bade her a good evening, starting the walk back to his burrow with his prizes. He hadn’t made it a malm out of the village when the sky opened up and it started pouring, and he pulled the hood of his cloak up to cover his head and ears. He didn’t mind it, really; the smell was wonderful, and the sound of it hitting the leaves and the ground nearby was soothing. He’d never seen rain before he’d come here, and now he wondered how many words existed for it. Maybe he’d ask his friend next time he saw her.

[a-drabble-a-day]

Prompt #11

Magic

~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

The fire crackled in the hearth.

Draco was lying stretched out on the chaise longue, an ornate tome too esoteric even for him laid open across his lap, its gilded letters straining his eyes.

He looked up from his research. Across the room, a tousled mane of black hair was hunched over a table strewn with papers, each carrying a different handwriting, and yet the same spidery scrawl appeared in green over each one.

Sitting here across from each other, both deep in their work, it suddenly struck Draco how intertwined with magic their lives were. How he sought to understand its intricacies, whereas Harry imparted its intricacies to the young. How occupied their lives and minds were with it, every day, every hour. And yet…

“Potter,” he chimed.

“Hmm?” came the distracted reply.

“Potter,” he repeated more loudly.

The mane of hair lifted to reveal crooked glasses and eyes glazed over from reading the many writings of teenagers. A moment passed before Harry returned to his senses.

“Yes, love?” he smiled.

Draco’s heart still melted at those words.

He returned the smile.

Yes, we study it and we teach it. And yet… And yet…

“It’s bedtime,” he said.

Harry glanced at the clock, surprised by the late hour as he began gathering the students’ scripts.

Draco closed his own tome and set it aside, unfolding himself from the couch and taking slow steps towards Harry.

We theorize, we experiment, we poke, we pry. And yet… And yet...

Here lies the true magic. An unsolvable mystery. An inscrutable enigma. A simple truth.

That my name to him is beloved.

That I should smile, and he should smile.

That I should call, and he should answer.

That I should reach out my hand, and he will take it.

~~~~~~

[promptsbytaurie]

prompt #7: imagine your OT3!

A professor, an assassin, and a nurse walk into a bar.

[midcinmancave]

Story Prompt:  "Well, that worked out great."

Story Title:  Dancing Queen

Summary: In which Louis is watching a disaster unfold. Complete Story Source on FB

Fictober24 Submission #18 Fandom:  Midnight Cinderella Featuring:  Louis Howard, Giles Christophe, Leo Crawford, The Princess Warnings:  None  Rating/Genre:  General Audience, Comedy Writer:  Louis Howard

[belvedia02]

Día 13: Ingredients & Spells

Fandom: Wednesday TV 2022

Relationships: Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair

Words: 1018

Resumen:

Wednesday sigue cuidando a Enid que esta desmayada, cuando despierta ambas tocan al mismo tiempo uno de los objetos encontrados en la caja provocando una visión.

_____________________

Wednesday con movimientos simples y teniendo especial cuidado con Enid, adoptó una nueva postura para sostener a su compañera de habitación desmayada. Manteniendo su espalda totalmente recta, dobló sus piernas, juntando sus rodillas. Esto es más cómodo para Enid. Wednesday realmente estaba preocupada por Enid, es por eso que  mantuvo su atención sobre ella por un tiempo que no pudo determinar con precisión, porque no tenía una vista completa hacia el cielo nocturno especialmente iluminado y porque detuvo el conteo de los segundos cuando escuchó algunas palabras ininteligibles que murmuró Enid. Eso la llevó a la conclusión que su desmayo terminó hace bastante rato atrás y ahora solo estaba durmiendo plácidamente. 

Wednesday no sintió incomodidad en sus piernas, solo estaba meditando si debía continuar con los planes que trazó días antes de esta expedición. Todavía deseaba realizar una sesión de espiritismo, su principal objetivo, porque su mayor anhelo era invocar a las almas que seguían habitando esta abandonada mansión, podía sentir varias presencias. 

Wednesday seguía concentrada en sus futuras acciones, no notó en el cambió en la respiración de Enid, ella abandonó su estado de somnolencia, cuando Wednesday adoptó la posición seiza, sin embargo, no quiso delatar que ya no necesitaba que Wednesday sostuviera su cabeza en su regazo, si ella podía prolongar ese momento lo haría de cualquier modo. Solo deseaba que Wednesday no pudiera oír su ritmo acelerado de sus latidos o ver el sonrojo de sus mejillas. 

Wednesday por ahora estaba mirando hacia el frente y pudo ver que en la esquina del ático se formaba una sombra de aspecto bastante singular. Si Enid la viera de seguro se volvería a desmayar. Sonrió porque ahora que la conocía mejor, sus gustos parecían no coincidir de ninguna forma. Así que si a ella le parecía solo un juego de luces y sombras, Enid vería a alguien escondido detrás de todos esos objetos abandonados amenazándolas con un cuchillo. 

Enid abrió solo su ojo derecho y vio en la mejilla derecha de Wednesday un hoyuelo. Es adorable. Ante ese descubrimiento Enid movió su cabeza algo que fue perceptible para Wednesday.

—¿Enid?— Wednesday miró fijamente el rostro aparentemente dormido de Enid, porque sus ojos aún permanecían cerrados. 

Enid se recriminó mentalmente, si pudiera haber controlado su emoción, podría haber estado al cuidado de Wednesday por más tiempo, se delató torpemente. 

—Wednesday…— Susurró, abriendo con toda la lentitud posible sus ojos, luego levantó su cabeza para sentarse, de inmediato perdió la comodidad que disfrutó por un tiempo desconocido. 

—¿Sueles desmayarte seguido?, debes de comer más carnes rojas— Wednesday durante ese tiempo que llevaba viviendo en Nevermore,  almorzó con Enid al menos 5 veces, porque ella siempre estaba rodeada de sus amigos los cuales Wednesday no desea tener el mínimo contacto con ninguno de ellos.  

—Solo cuando veo escenas sangrientas, por eso evito ver películas gore—. Enid no podía recordar otras situaciones, eso lo descubrió en una clase de biología especialmente gráfica que mostraba cómo podían aplicar primeros auxilios frente a diferentes heridas—. Y carnes rojas consumo con bastante regularidad. 

—Tu desmayo de ahora… no encuentro ninguna conexión entre lo que me acabas de explicar y la situación en la que estamos—. Wednesday no cambió su forma de sentarse después que Enid se despertó, solo cruzó sus brazos. 

—Debe ser por todo el nerviosismo de estar en una mansión embrujada y uno de los objetos pareciera que tenía sangre en su interior—. Enid estaba dándole la espalda a todos los artículos que encontró Wednesday en esa caja. 

—¿El amuleto?— Wednesday creyó que solamente contenía un cristal y no sangre—. Debería investigarlo—. Wednesday se levantó del suelo y cuando una vez más lo tenía entre sus manos, Enid se giró para evitarlo, lo que solo consiguió que ella también lo tocara. Para ella no tuvo ningún efecto esa simple acción, sin embargo, el cuerpo de Wednesday adoptó una rigidez característica de que estaba experimentando una visión. Enid evitó la caída de su interés romántico atrapándola antes que cayera de espaldas al suelo. 

Wednesday se despertó y vio que estaba en el invernadero de su madre, aunque encontraba algunas diferencias desde que dejó la mansión para ingresar a la academia Nevermore. Caminó algunos pasos para averiguar más acerca de la visión que estaba experimentando. Se detuvo y escondió detrás de una planta extrañamente alta y porque creyó que su madre estaba mirando hacia donde ella estaba.  

—No estoy comprendiendo la información que está detallada en estas hojas, madre—. Wednesday pudo reconocer su voz, porque solo podía ver la espalda de la persona que estaba junto a su madre. 

—Querida, no subestimes tu inteligencia y tu conocimiento de las pociones familiares, llevas estudiando demasiado tiempo un método para cumplir con el deseo de Enid—. Morticia finalmente encontró los ingredientes y los hechizos que podrían hacer realidad el sueño de su otra hija.

“Mi madre no conoce a Enid, ¿cómo puede hablar de ella con tanta familiaridad?” Pensó mientras fue acercándose con sigilo a su madre y a su versión de ella misma en un futuro que no pudo determinar con exactitud cuántos años tendría ella, porque el aspecto de su madre, casi no cambió. Sus ansias de conocer cabalmente esta visión eran inusualmente intensas. 

—La mayoría de las plantas están aquí, lo que tengo dudas es acerca de la raíz de .. 

—No deberías leer los ingredientes en voz alta, no queremos que oídos curiosos lo sepan todavía—. Morticia vio que la versión de su hija de 16 años podía oirlas con claridad. 

—Enid no volverá hasta mañana—. Dijo en un tono de voz impregnado de anhelo. 

“Es como sí…” Wednesday no pudo concluir su pensamiento, ella estaba saliendo de la visión. 

—Wends…— Enid la llamó por quinta vez. Wednesday se soltó del abrazo de Enid, tenía demasiadas preguntas para una visión tan breve. — Estoy bien—. Respondió cuando vio la aflicción en la cara de Enid. 

Wednesday mantendría esa visión en secreto y lo averiguaría cuando estuviera en su habitación, por ahora tenía que seguir adelante con la serie de acciones que debía cumplir antes que se cumpliera la hora de regresar a la academia.

_____________________

Gracias por leer

Cuarta parte de esta historia

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Sicktember #11

Prompt: Beginner’s Guide to Faking Sick

Fandom/OCs: Knives Out (post canon-AU, Ransom and Marta)

Words: 580

Sicknario inspo: Being kissed by someone who’s sick when asked to share their cold from this post. 

Author’s comments/background: Another one where the prompt basically wrote itself, just needed some extra words. In my AU for this fandom, Ransom only has a short prison sentence if any and he and Marta have a traditional enemies-to-lovers plotline as he helps her navigate the realm of the wealthy and she helps him turn over a new leaf as a decent person. 

~~~***~~~

Ransom had just woken up from his latest sick nap and was enjoying a cup of tea at the kitchen table when Marta burst into the room. 

"I need your help. I need to get sick before this weekend."

Ransom cocked an eyebrow. "What could possibly be so horrible that a goody-goody like you is trying to get out of it?" he asked, the husky rasp of an upper respiratory infection making his voice somehow more attractive, if that were possible. 

"Ugh, my cousin is getting married for the third time and each man she's chosen is more horrible than the last. This one is an alcoholic and so are all his friends. And my other cousins will end up in a screaming fight one way or another. I refuse to go to another miserable wedding."

"So why don't you just fake sick instead of going the whole way? Even a princess like you can fake a few coughs over the phone I'm sure. I can give you a full course on creative ways to get out of social events. I've been doing it my whole life. Playing hooky 101. I should write a book… "The Beginners Guide to Faking Sick". It'd be an instant hit." He forced out the last few words just in time before breaking into a nasty coughing fit. "See?" he croaked after a few sips of tea. "Trust me, you want no part of this in real life. Just pretend."

Marta shook her head. "Someone would come check on me. They'll send my mother or one of my aunties to make sure I’m telling the truth. My cousins don't allow anyone to miss their weddings. But this cousin is also deathly afraid of being sick. It has to be the real thing. I need you to give me your cold." She eyed his contagion-ridden mug, but Ransom didn't follow her train of thought. 

"If you insist," he said with a smirk that at first she couldn't decipher. He stood and was at her side in two long strides. Before she knew what he was doing, he was tilting her head back and pressing his hot lips to hers. His tongue was in her mouth before she could blink.

"Ransom! What the hell?" She shoved him away. "I wanted you to let me drink from your mug, not suck my face off!"

"Hey, you said you wanted my cold. I was just taking the most direct route," he said, smiling wickedly. "Plus I kinda thought you were flirting." He held out his mug. “But if you want to try it your way too, be my guest.”

She took the mug from him, trying to hide a smile as she took a few sips. "You're impossible. I would never."

"Hmm. Well now you'll get your cold one way or another. Just wait and see," he laughed.

~~~

Two days later, Marta appeared for breakfast with red, watery eyes and nose, looking pleased, though she was also pale and shaky.

"Your cold worked. Just in time for the wedding, exactly like I hoped. Thank you."

Ransom, his cold much improved, grinned wolfishly. "No thanks necessary. That just goes to show how good of a kisser I am too, to give you my cold in one go after just a few seconds of tongue."

"You're impossible, as usual," she said, rolling her eyes, though with unmistakable fondness, at her rescuer.

[fanfictasia]

Whumpuary Prompt 11

Memories

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Nighttime Fear

Being here on Kamino drags back so many memories to the surface. Both good and bad. Times from before they left, and it’s been years since they were here. It reminds him of when they were young, still careless, still… before Hunter first killed someone.

Before he killed his master. He still regrets it, even if they didn’t have a choice.

Just like he regrets having to come here, now, and having Crosshair use all that against them makes it hurt even worse.

They run into a group of guards just inside, and Hunter pauses.

“He’s waiting for you,” one of them says, jerking with his blaster, motioning them to follow. Hunter throws a wary glance at his brothers, but he follows, anyway. They don’t have much other choice. Even if they could fight their way out, the chances are low, and they can’t leave Omega.

(He doesn’t want to leave Crosshair. After being here again, leaving a second time feels even harder.)

They’re taken to a command center somewhere, and Crosshair pushes himself to his feet the minute they enter.

He’s dressed in black. It’s different to see in person somehow.

“So, you made it back,” he drawls, “For the kid you didn’t know, when you didn’t do it for me.”

Force. He doesn’t have the energy for this. He can’t face Crosshair like this right now. He’s – he’s so tired. Doesn’t want to think about how badly he failed. About what he caused. Just wants to – to sleep and not wake up.

[tricksterfiction]

Prompt #11 Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Time passed, somehow, but it was all blurry.

Active erosion, chiselling away at something, there were always so many distractions. The discontent was fleeting, sparks before being drowned away. She was conscious, propped upright, she had survived it all relatively intact. And yet... There was a pinprick of a hole, slowly widening.

Brief glimpses of the distractions, she was away from her ceiling hanging indoor plants, her beloved creeping ivy spilling over the window sill, the small animal bones, the messy desk piled with books with reference marks, dusty spines, and piles of old candle wax. A carefully tended shrine to Althyk with incense ash in pewter bowls. What all used to be such an important sanctuary.

Her bed was neat, orderly, sheets tucked so tightly you could bounce a single gil off it. It was cold and untouched.

Stranger's beds were so comfy, inviting, and she had tumbled endlessly into them.

"Would you like to join my girlfriend and I tonight?" He would ask, behind a blurry face.

"Sure," She would say, "Don't blame me if you break up once she realizes you can't perform oral for shit."

A good hearty laugh from both. Sen would laugh too.

Hands bound, the tip of a fang dragging delicately along the nape of her neck.

"Remember, you can do whatever you want. It'll be gone by the morning."

"I know, pet," A hot breath rolled over her neck, but their tone changed out of play mode, "Remember your safe word." Another, different blurry face swam into view as her blindfold was pulled down to make eye contact.

Another was seated beside her, similarly bound. Her posture was perfect.

"Of course." Sen would say.

Sat down at Carline Canopy.

"Sorry Sen, this isn't working out anymore. You-..." She sighed, "Barely take any time off, and I don't feel like we can fit into your life. You haven't told your parents about us." Both of them held hands, separate from Sen. They looked hurt.

"I-I understand." A strained frown, her heart ached, a spark of discontent flew. "I wish you both the best."

Another party of strangers, the sound of wine pouring. Holding out her mug.

"Whats the matter, little dragon?" A tilt of her chin.

She was suddenly shy, quailing, blushing. She was sandwiched by a handsome midlander and seeker, by her own deliberate efforts to join the party. Now that she was where she had wanted to be she was losing all nerve. Confused above all else why she was reacting so strongly to such a familiar set up. "N-nothing, just don't call me pet, kay?"

"Whatever you say," His face too was a blur, as he leaned in for a kiss and she gladly met him. More than ready to tune out the doubts, retreat gratefully into her body.

He stopped again, this time catching her hands and could tell her heart wasn't in it. He sweetly pressed his lips to her knuckles, searching her face, "Tell us, what is hurting?"

She brushed it off, cutting sharply, "I said it was nothing because it would only bore you."

A flick of leaflet, a letter, open exuberant excitement.

"Oh, Sen, the botanists commendations have finally arrived! Glowing as expected," Madame Dubois was elated, "Now only the military commendations...! Everything we've worked for is finally bearing fruit."

Sen stared at the leaflet, summoning a smile, "Yeah, I was wondering when it'd arrive."

Sensing something was off, Madame Dubois cautiously inquired, "You are still seeing the counsellor?"

"Yes, every week." She answered.

"Meditating?"

"Yes and praying before you ask." She answered dryly.

Madame Dubois wrung out her hands, worried, "Of course you're not expected to be here every night, I'll always cook for two- I..." She hesitated, "You've been so busy out of the house and speak so little of your social excursions."

"They're nothing really to talk about, truthfully. Please don't be worried, I'm just-"

"You miss Miss Kemp, yes?" She was taking shots in the dark.

Sen sighed loudly, "Everyday but that's not the problem. I'm just in a funk, okay? Untangle those hands."

---

Moons passed, summers came and went. Sen found herself in the spring again. Still stumbling in and out of her patterns. Presently bent over her current patient.

"Hold still." A small thin hook being threaded, aether surrounding her fingertips as pain relief, she stitched the back of some soldier's head. She blinked, zoning out. The soldier waited patiently for several moments, trying to stay still as time passed.

"Corporal?"

Every muscle was taut. Her entire body tensed, brow deeply furrowed. The hole in her heart had expanded so widely that the emptiness couldn't, wouldn't be ignored any longer. It throbbed hungrily to be filled, and not to be filled by sex, love or work.

Sen's breathing grew rapid, she flinched at the touch of her colleague tapping her shoulder. More time had passed than she realized, the soldier flinched as well.

"Ow!"

Snapped back to reality, "Ah- I, sorry one moment." She rapidly finished the stitching, tying it off. Patting the soldier's shoulder, free to go.

They rubbed their neck, giving Sen a strange look before heading out of the ward.

Her colleague, face sharply in focus, young miqo'te woman with a bushy brow and slowly invading unibrow. She was climbing the ranks, and despite Sen's sharp tongue leaned on her for her experience, "You alright, Urabe?"

Sen blinked at her, before she knew what she was saying - the words smashed past all internal filters, "I don't want to do this anymore."

Her colleague began to laugh, "Yeah it's slow today, you don't have any physicals scheduled today right?"

Sen was uncharacteristically neutral, no hints of amusement to be found, she got up. In a flurry of movement she cleaned up her workspace, washed her hands, tugging off her uniform over her head.

Her colleagues complained, "Go to the change rooms, for godssakes-"

She didn't reply but pulled on a deep green cloak, fastening it, not sparing them a second look.

"Sen?"

She stopped, the three of them in total were staring at her. She reassured them, "I'll see you tomorrow." Then was gone.

---

Sen wondered through Gridania on foot, holding the reigns of her chocobo. Moonshine was kweh'ing with delight, expectant of exercise and exploration. The conjurer found herself by the massive community board, staring at the various flyers for bar nights, fights, and other social events.

A Private she recognized was pinning recruitment flyers up when she approached, squinting at something in particular. She reached tugging it free from underneath the colourful layers.

"Bokh?" She said aloud, "Authentic Bokh?" She deliberated, would it be a waste of time? How many scantily clad muscle men and women would be drawn to a traditional wrestling event?

The hyur private noticed her, a salute before leaning over to see what caught her eye. He chuckled, "You lizards really do like wrestling huh?"

"Don't call me lizard, Private." She warned sharply, folding the flyer to tuck into her belt.

He straightened, rolled his eyes, and returned to his flyer pinning while muttering, "Whatever, foreigner."

That got him a shove, "That's rich coming from you, Private Steele."

"Hey! Watch it-"

She continued, piercing, "When your family only moved to the Shroud two summers ago, you've barely got the stink of Greenwrath off of you." She cut deep, "I've lived here nearly my entire life and you would do well showing some godsdamn respect to the people mending your bruised ego after a snapped bow string nearly took out your eye three moons ago."

He blushed furiously, but elected wisely to shut up.

Sen walked away, reading the flyer closely. With the evening off she tapped the folded flyer to her chin with thought. She spared a look down at herself - not really dressed for the beach. It wouldn't really matter, she wasn't going to do any wrestling herself.

She went to Limsa Lominsa, down to the Mists, Moonshine happiest of all.

She arrived late for the start, riding up along the seabreeze markets, looking over the stone walls past patrons perched on them. She rode on taking herself down to the sands. It was busy - crowds were gathered around three separate rings of wrestlers paired off already in full swing of their matches.

To her surprise there was a great deal of variety of wrestlers from miqo'te, auri, hyur, lalafells, men and women across the spectrum. A rare smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she dismounted shooing Moonshine off to explore and find a good patch of grass to graze. Instead the chocobo went bounding to play in the surf.

Coming up behind a considerable crowd she pushed past to get to the front, many excuse me's, begging of pardons, gentle shouldering to get to the front for a good view to watch.

A dark keeper, only shades above shadow faced off against a towering xaela. He was lanky, distantly familiar, and the way he moved past the mountain he faced off against he was practically acrobatic. Fangs flashed with a confident grin. Red eyes lit up with adrenaline.

"I don't fucking believe it." A face snapped sharply into focus past all the noise. The same face smiling with latent approval while he carried home his younger sister Dolyea after their tree mishap. A face screwing up with disgust at tasting something foul they had snuck into his lunch. His face barely restrained fury, holding up his lance speared with a Bog Yarzon's limb shaking it at the pair of troublemakers, they snickered behind their hands.

The match ended, she found his discarded shirt thrown off to the side while two others swarmed to his side as he had all but collapsed in the sands from the exertion. They were congratulating him on the wonderful match.

Sen offered him his shirt, "Hey Twig."

He stared up at her, scrutinizing the nickname long since unheard. Jesser'to accepted his shirt, he replied curiously, "Pipsqueak?"

[sterek-and-stuff-events]

Mead Moons prompt: Honeymoon

Do Derek and Stiles spend a nice, relaxing week on a secluded island for their honeymoon? Or do they get stuck in Beacon Hills fighting yet another malicious creature, but find ways to get romantic in between stakeouts and showdowns?

Are they strangers thrown together in an arranged marriage who only get to know each other in the month after their wedding? Or are they longtime lovers who have some rather adventurous plans to celebrate making it official?

Do Stiles and Derek wake up married in Vegas with no idea how until the pack sends them a video of them finally confessing their feelings for each other? Or is the honeymoon phase still going strong a year after tying the knot?

Show some love!

Accepting new and unpublished fic, art, and playlists until July 31st. See here for more info. 

[oswsfandomchallenge]

We're back with another favourite prompt from last year! Be creative for this one, folks. Nothing is too out there, suspend the disbelief ✨

prompt #11:

❄️ The Rarepair Game: Create or write for a pairing that has barely even been thought of before ❄️

[thebittahwizard]

Fictober 2023 | Prompt 11 - “You lost it. Well, we lost it.”

Chapter 4 - Interlude: Finding Happiness in This Place, in This Hour