AO3 Wrapped 2024 [Writer's Edition]

DAY 13: Till Death Do Us Part

The end of a crew. The end of a legend.

If you haven't seen the "Character Death" tag and you don't like when your favorite characters die, there's still time to turn around. The entire crew dies in this story, it's not a spoiler to say that. (And, the warnings will be put at the beginning of each chapter, in more or less gruesome ways.) I was looking for a poem to be the story's guideline but I couldn't find one that fit what I was looking for. And even though I don't really need it anymore, I decided to write it myself. The first real chapter will be coming tomorrow or in the next few days but in the meantime I left some clues on how each character dies if you want to decipher them. I originally wrote the poem in French and was unable to make it rhyme in English, to my great disappointment. So I left it for you in French with the translation for each line just below. Fandom : One Piece Character(s) : Mugiwara Kaizoku | Straw Hat Pirates Relationship(s) : Mugiwara Kaizoku | Straw Hat Pirates & Mugiwara Kaizoku | Straw Hat Pirates Words Count : 629 No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

À bord du navire des rêves,

(On board the ship of dreams,)

vivaient dix animaux

(lived ten animals)

Tous suivaient leur capitaine,

(All followed their captain,)

un singe avec comme couronne un chapeau.

(a monkey with a hat as a crown.)

Le tigre partit le premier, 

(The tiger left first,)

protégeant jusqu’au bout ses camarades.

(protecting his comrades until the end.)

Mais son dos resta intouché, 

(But his back remained untouched,)

marquant l'ultime preuve de sa bravade.

(marking the ultimate proof of his bravado.)

Le cheval solitaire fût le suivant,

(The lonely horse was next,)

son vieux squelette ne tenant plus le coup

(his old skeleton no longer holding up)

Ses amis ne le laissèrent pas seul un instant, 

(His friends did not leave him alone for a moment,)

tenant sa main jusqu’à son dernier pouls.

(holding his hand until his last pulse.)

La fin commença avec celle du caméléon,

(The end began with that of the chameleon,)

son courage inspirant le monde entier

(his courage inspiring the whole world)

Même devant la Mort il ne baissa pas le front,

(Even in the face of Death he did not lower his head,)

lançant sur la mer les navires par milliers.

(launching ships by the thousands into the sea.)

L’ironie n’échappa pas au canard,

(The irony did not escape the duck,)

quand ses yeux se fermèrent de leur plein gré.

(when his eyes closed of their own accord.)

Il aurait aimé que cela arrive un peu plus tard,

(He would have liked it to happen a little later,)

sombrer dans les bras de la mer dont il avait toujours rêvé. 

(to sink into the arms of the sea he had always dreamed of.)

Le taureau résista sans jamais faillir,

(The bull resisted without ever failing,)

quand se déchainèrent les sévices des enfers

(when the torments of hell were unleashed)

Il accueillit la fin avec un sourire,

(He greeted the end with a smile,)

tel était l’adage de l’homme de fer.

(such was the adage of the iron man.)

La chatte affronta sa fin sans ruser,

(The cat faced her end without guile,)

maîtrisant une dernière fois les éléments

(mastering the elements one last time)

Elle ne s’enfuit pas même si elle était effrayée,

(She did not run away even though she was frightened,)

libérant un pays entier du tourment.

(freeing an entire country from torment.)

Le petit renne choisit de rester,

(The little reindeer chose to stay,)

refusant de tourner son dos à ceux dans le besoin

(refusing to turn his back on those in need)

Face à la maladie il ne cessa d’essayer

(Faced with illness he never stopped trying)

et sa compassion causa sa fin.

(and his compassion caused his end.)

La seule grue qui avait réussi à fuir,

(The only crane that had managed to escape,)

finit par retourner à la maison

(ended up returning home)

Pour une fois elle ne pût pas courir,

(For once she could not run,)

et enfermée, elle se plia à la raison.

(and locked up, she bowed to reason.)

L’ours fût là quand personne ne pouvait plus l’être,

(The bear was there when no one could anymore,)

Guidant son capitaine jusqu’à la dernière minute

(Guiding his captain until the last minute)

Il ne laissa jamais sa peur paraître, 

(He never let his fear show,)

Continuant jusqu’au bout pour lui, la lutte.

(Continuing the fight to the end for him.)

Le singe resta le dernier,

(The monkey was the last to remain,)

Seul et froid au milieu de la nuit

(Alone and cold in the middle of the night)

Quand il partit, personne n'était là pour l’en empêcher,

(When he left, no one was there to stop him,)

et il prit le soleil avec lui.

(and he took the sun with him.)

@bartylily-microfics | april 2 | rainstorm | 828 words | warnings: none

After the Rain

Thunder rumbled in the distance the moment Lily stepped outside the library, dark clouds stretching across the summer sky. She quickened her pace, hoping to reach the bus stop before the rain started. The ozone in the air tingled her nose in the best way possible, sky and earth intermingling in her lungs. She loved that feeling just before the storm—before the world fractured in a burst of lightning. It was like standing on the edge of a building, never leaning too far to one side or the other.

Lily had lived her whole life like this, on the verge of explosion. But she had everything perfectly under control.

Flood poured from the sky. Raindrops hit her skin as she ran to the nearest awning, pulling her jacket over her head. It was just her luck that she chose to take a tote bag today, her computer and books were going to get wet. Lily leaned against the wall of a closed cafe, watching the rainstorm unravel before her eyes.

The streets were deserted, as always in August in their town, everyone having gone on vacation. Except for—

“Fancy seeing you here, Evans.” Barty's voice was dripping with sarcasm, a smirk tugging at his lips. He ran his hand through his wet hair, strands of green-dyed hair escaping through his fingers.

Lily kinda wanted to kick him. 

“What are you doing here, Crouch? I thought you would be on the French Riviera this time of year,” Lily retorted, more out of habit than anything else.

She and Barty weren't exactly friends, rather their friends were friends (and some of them were dating depending on the week) and they had known each other since elementary school. They had some sort of unofficial academic competition and Lily hated his guts most of the time.

Lily had accompanied him to throw eggs at his father's company at the beginning of the year. Barty had brought her food every night during exam periods.

“I bailed,” Barty shrugged as he sat down next to her, pressing his shoulder against hers. “There's no place I'd rather be than here.” 

Lily's laugh caught in her throat, shivering as her wet denim jacket clung to her skin, drops of water running down the back of her neck. Her half-undone braid fell pathetically over her shoulder, and she'd caught a glimpse of her smudged eyeliner in the window earlier. 

She looked as tired as she felt, and school didn't start for another week.

“So, Lils,” Barty drawled, “what are you doing here? It's pretty dead this time of year.”

“I just wanted to be ready for the start of the year. I really need this full scholarship to go to college.” Lily replied. Two years ago, she would have rather died than admit this to Barty Crouch Jr, but if anyone could understand the crushing weight of expectations, it was him.

There was no pity, compassion, or disapproval in his eyes as he smiled at her, just understanding and amused fondness. “Looks like we'll be continuing our little date nights this year too.”

“Looks like it,” Lily said, realizing with a flutter how close Barty's face was to hers. He had a new piercing above his eyebrow. 

“I missed you this summer,” Barty said, his eyes lingering on her lips. 

Lifting her head, Lily straightened up to kiss Barty on the cheek before resting her head on his shoulder. She stared straight ahead, watching puddles form on the road, the occasional car driving through them and sending drops flying into the air, as she whispered. “Me too.”

The rain beat against the roof reassuringly and comfortingly as Barty put an arm around her shoulders. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sticking one between his lips. His lighter flickered before lighting, the end of his cigarette igniting and Barty inhaled, throwing his head back. The tattoo on his throat stretched over his Adam's apple, disappearing beneath his white t-shirt.

“How’s your sister?” Barty asked, smoke escaping from his lips. 

“How's your father?” Lily retorted, playing with the rings on Barty's fingers.

The laughter they shared was bitter. Barty offered her his cigarette and Lily blew the smoke in his face playfully. Barty pinched her ribs and Lily doubled over, a laugh ripping out of her. 

“You should laugh more often,” Barty breathed into her ear, his lips grazing her skin.

Lily sighed contentedly, leaning into Barty's chest, a blissful smile illuminating her face. She stole the cigarette from Barty's hand again, letting it burn between her lips.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Crouch,” Lily said light-heartedly. 

"I wouldn't dare," Barty grinned lazily, tucking a strand of Lily's hair behind her ear. He flicked her dangling earring with his fingertip. “New earrings?” 

Lily shook her head affectionately, stealing another cigarette from Barty's pocket. Together they watched the rain fall and the sun rise behind the clouds, a rainbow forming above the buildings. 

I Will Carry You On My Shoulders To The End Of The Road — PART III: DREAMS

"Beckman?" Luffy asked weakly, his voice stuck in his throat.

"I'm here, kid," Beckman replied, relief relaxing his entire body. "I'm here."

Luffy clutched at Beckman’s shirt, his shaking hand clenched into a fist around the fabric and refusing to let go. Tears pricked Luffy’s eyes and his lips trembled. “I didn’t cry, I promise.”

“I saw that,” Beckman smiled, closing his arm around Luffy, enveloping him in an embrace. “But you can cry if you want to, especially if it hurts.”

“Good,” Luffy said shakily, tears streaming down his cheeks freely, “because it really hurts.”

“I know, you were very brave. How about we go back to Makino now?” Beckman asked, gently running his hand over Luffy’s back. “She’s very worried about you.”

Luffy nodded wordlessly and Beckman helped him onto his back, his head immediately coming to rest on his shoulder. Beckman set off, his stride long and steady, as Luffy wrapped his hands around his neck to keep from falling. The breeze blew gently, turning the large blades of the windmills along the path to the village.

In the distance, the sun disappeared behind the ocean horizon in a green flash, the moon already rising to take its place. For a moment, only the sound of Beckman's footsteps and Luffy's occasional sniffles broke the natural stillness of the night, a comfortable silence stretching between them. Luffy was not a silent child by any means but to those who knew how to listen, his silence spoke as much as his words.

Luffy leaned against Beckman, exhaustion seeping heavily into his bones and Beckman let him. The rock the waves came to rest on.

“Shanks is stupid,” Luffy finally said, his voice muffled by Beckman’s shirt.

Beckman chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter making Luffy laugh as well, albeit faintly. Well, it was a start. 

“Nothing new here. But you know he cares a lot about you, right?”

Beckman felt Luffy nod, and even without seeing him, he could imagine Luffy puffing his cheeks in protest.

“It’s a lot of work being the captain,” Beckman continued. “So if you can, you should forgive Shanks for being stupid sometimes.”

“Why doesn’t he want me to come with you guys?” Luffy protested in a whiny voice. “I know I can’t swim, but I’ve been learning how to fight.”

Beckman hesitated for a moment, weighing his words in his head. Luffy, through his kid’s eyes, only saw the childish stubbornness that Shanks projected. And he was right in a way, but Beckman was the one who had found Shanks after Loguetown. He knew his captain.

But Beckman had been Shanks' protector for almost a decade, and that included his secrets. It was up to Shanks to decide what he shared with whom he wanted.

"Captain has his reasons," Beckman said instead. "And maybe he'll explain them to you one day, but for now, try to tell yourself that he wants the best for you."

"It's not easy when he spends his time making fun of me," Luffy retorted petulantly, before repeating. "Shanks is stupid."

"You'll just have to show him what he's missing by becoming a better captain than him when you grow up," Beckman replied amused.

They finally reached the first houses on the edge of the village and Beckman saw Makino in the distance, sitting on the steps of the bar, waiting for them to return. Shanks was with her, his arm around her shoulders, and looked up as he felt them coming.

"I'm going to!" Luffy declared loudly, straightening up and almost falling. "I'm going to become the Pirate King!"

"That's the spirit," Beckman complimented him.

Prince of the Pirates

My most kudoed fic is by far Children of the Sea, but when I went to check by how much I noticed that several of my other One Piece fics had more kudos than I remembered which makes me very happy.

My favorite fic is probably also Children of the Sea because I got severely attached to the characters throughout the chapters. It's a family-centric story where Rouge raises Ace, Shanks and Buggy (and coming soon, our favorite rubber kid!). And bonus point, everyone survives their tragic backstory.

But I still want to mention another one of my fics that I absolutely love, At The Dawn Of Time. I put a lot of myself into this story and it means a lot to me on a personal level. This is again a story about Rouge (shocking, I know) where after Marineford, Ace travels back in time for a day and meets Rouge when she was pregnant with him in Baterilla. This story is not so much about fixing the past but rather Ace's journey towards self-acceptance, particularly with regard to his parents, as well as self-love.

OH OH reblog game: fic writers, what is your most kudosed fic, and what is your favorite fic you've written? are they different? have any commentary?

Never felt less patriotic than when Simone Bills and Ilona Maher show up on my screen. I mean, they're everything. What do you mean I'm supposed to cheer for my own country ?

Okay, so I really thought about it (and couldn't help but add a tiny little bit of angst) and I like the idea of Athena calling Odysseus Little Warrior when he was young and she was feeling extra affectionate towards him (not that she realized that just yet).

But now she doesn't dare call him that anymore because she doesn't want him to think he's just a warrior and a tool to her, especially after My Goodbye.

Ody kinda misses it though because it reminds him of his happier times with her when he was young.

With Athena calling Telemachus little wolf these days, what nickname might she settle on for Odysseus? (assuming she does end up using one ofc)

I think I'll update the post with the suggestions so we'll have a masterlist hehe, every suggestion wins, no matter if I vibe with it.

I'm sick as hell (my own fault, I spent the weekend under the rain) but once I'm lucid and coherent enough I'm gonna put my favourite characters in Situations. Because if I have to suffer, so do they.

But.

Light in the middle of the fever, I texted my mom asking her to pick me up from school (as a joke) and she literally said, and I quote: "I'll be there in two hours, time to get off work and come to you."

I haven't lived with my parents for two years.

And she was totally serious! She was willing to drive over three hours round trip on a weekday evening to bring me home. I love my mom so much.

DAY 6: Blood On The Car Seats

Bobby is bleeding out, but family doesn't end in blood.

Pretty short today but I realized at the last minute that I didn't have anything for Bobby so I did what I could. It was originally only 300 words but inspiration struck me on the train so you get a bit more. It's not as sad as it could be and I would even say it's kind of cute if you ignore the whole Bobby dying thing. Fandom: Supernatural Character(s) : Bobby Singer Relationship(s): Bobby Singer & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Words : 904 Trigger Warnings : - Blood Loss - Gunshots - Implied Future Death No. 6: NOT REALIZING THEY'RE INJURED Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

“Bobby! Come on! Come on! Come on!”

Bobby dropped the crowbar to the floor with a loud metallic clang, a black goo coating his arm. Behind him, he could hear Dick’s skin fizzing as it formed back. Bobby ran. The door slammed behind him, a futile barrier to the biblical creature behind him.

Dean and Sam were waiting for him outside in the van, Sam’s hopeful eyes piercing into him. An open door, Bobby had only to step through. Dick’s footsteps echoed ominously through the night, never stopping.

(Bobby had a way to stop him, the maps, the numbers he’d seen in Dick’s office. He had to pass them on to the boys.)

Bobby jumped into the van, a bullet passing inches from his face. The bullet embedded itself in the body of the van. The tires screeched on the tarmac as Dean started the car, sparks flying.

A second bullet flew.

The door swung shut, carried by the momentum of the car.

The bullet lodged in Bobby's forehead.

Bobby was thrown against the side of the car, carried by the momentum of the bullet.

Time slowed down and Bobby could hear voices inside and outside of him. Blood ran down his forehead and into the leather of the car seats, pooling at his feet. Dean was talking and Bobby knew Dean was relieved that they had escaped but he couldn't make out any of his words.

“What's with your hand? Are you hurt?”

Dean's voice was distant, almost inaudible, but Bobby couldn't tell if it was Dean or him who had his head under water.

"It's not my blood," Sam answered.

Bobby was definitely dying, he decided, when his consciousness was trapped inside his dying carcass but he was still able to see Sam, his back to him, looking at the blood on his hands after picking up Bobby's cap.

Realization hit Sam like a bolt of lightning and he dropped the bloody cap and turned back to Bobby.

"Bobby? Oh, my God. Bobby!"

" Bobby !?"

Finally, idjits. It was about time.

Bobby didn't know what was worse, the horror on Sam's face as he fully realized who this was happening to, or Dean, consumed by uncertainty, who couldn't take his eyes off the road to save them from an accident.

Sam unbuckled his seatbelt and rushed to the back of the car, laying Bobby down in the backseat and stopping the bleeding with his other hand. His hands already covered in Bobby's blood only became redder.

"Bobby? Bobby? Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hold on."

Sam, his boy who thought he had to take all the sins of the world on his shoulders to atone for his sins, cradled Bobby's face gently in his hands, covering his cheeks with his own blood.

"Sam, is he dead?" Dean asked, his voice sharp.

"I'm checking," Sam replied abruptly.

Sam's hands shook against Bobby's throat. The silence was thick in the car and yet Sam had trouble feeling Bobby's pulse for how weak it was. 

"Is he dead?!" Dean insisted angrily.

Dean's default emotion had always been anger when he didn't know how to react. How could it be otherwise when the only example the boy had had was John?

"Just drive, Dean!" Sam said impatiently. "Bobby!"

(His boys were calling for help, they needed him. Bobby couldn’t do anything.)

“You gotta talk to me, Sam,” Dean snapped.

And to anyone who knew him, to Bobby and Sam, the desperation beneath his rage and aggression was obvious. There was nothing he could do for Bobby but keep driving, and he couldn’t stand it.

“All right, he’s breathing. There’s a pulse,” Sam sighed in relief, hiding a sob in his chest.

(Only Bobby was close enough to hear him.)

If Dean hadn’t been raised the way he had been—as a warrior, as a soldier —he would have stopped for a second and wept in solace. Instead, he pulled out his phone and continued to bark orders.

The fight wasn’t over. Bobby was still bleeding to death on the car seats.

“Keep him upright. Stop the bleeding. ”

“I’m not an idiot, Dean! I know first aid for a friggin’ bullet to the head! ” Sam snapped.

Idjits , Bobby wanted to scold them. The boys shouldn’t be getting angry at each other, they should be angry at Dick Freaking Roman.

But Dean had already stopped listening to Sam, focused on his next task, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

“I need the nearest trauma center,” he asked sharply on the phone. 

“Hold on, hold on,” Sam whispered to Bobby, begging him to stay with them.

(Bobby had never been one to refuse his boys anything. Sentimental fool.)

"What's the address?" The voice on the phone said a few words that Bobby couldn't hear. His senses seemed to be limited to his boys. “All right, Bobby. Hang in there.”

With a sharp turn of the wheel from Dean, the car veered toward the hospital and Bobby held on, both to the car and to the last connection he had with Sam and Dean. Sam's hand in his, Dean's voice in his ears.

(Hang on, Bobby.)

(He couldn't leave his boys, Sam and Dean still needed him.)

His vision narrowed and Bobby could only see Sam's worried eyes, could only feel the vibrations of the tires on the road, but Bobby held on. For Dean and Sam.

For his kids.

For his family .

Dean & Sam: *high fiving* I'm so glad everyone made it out unscathed. Bobby : *dying in the backseat*

It's decided, I'm going to rewatch Supernatural because apparently the first time wasn't painful enough. But! This time, I'm going to write fanfiction and semi-coherent analyses. And also count the number of times Dean says awesome.

Wish me luck!