WormMerchant
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Summary
When Edmund Blackadder, bloodied from shrapnel and ears ringing from the shelling, stumbled over Captain Darling's body caught in a tangle of barbed wire, he did not, despite many assurances towards it over the years, laugh, clap, and dance.
Instead, Blackadder took in the dark-wet definitely-not-mud stain spread all over Darling's uniformed chest, the pistol lax in his grip, his unseeing eyes turned up towards the overcast sky, and said, "oh, bloody buggering hell.""Quite," agreed Darling, squinting down at his own corpse; and, despite the unfortunate circumstances, took great pleasure in hearing Blackadder scream like a little girl.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 83,914
- Chapters:
- 21/21
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 74
- Kudos:
- 84
- Bookmarks:
- 26
- Hits:
- 1,741
Bookmarked by WormMerchant
01 Nov 2025
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Bookmarker's Notes
Genuinely cried. Excellent
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Blackadder's latest plan to escape back to England causes him to take an interest in the contents of Darling's drawers.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,473
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 53
- Kudos:
- 234
- Bookmarks:
- 26
- Hits:
- 2,206
Bookmarked by WormMerchant
01 Nov 2025
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Bookmarker's Notes
Does not fit the collection title but who gives a shit. Probably the best blackadder fic to ever blackadder
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Waste Not by gunstreet for CampySpaceSlime
Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
22 Sep 2025
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Summary
McCoy has gotten to know Spock pretty well over their years of service together. But whenever he starts feeling comfortable, the universe likes to force him to learn something new about Vulcans.
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Summary
“Do you understand what it is, precisely, that you’re offering?”
Bond smirked, eyes narrow with humor. “A nightcap,” he supplied, and then added wryly, “after a fashion.”
Q snorted, eyes sparkling, but there was a dark edge of menace under his light tone as he warned, “If you’re expecting it to be all fun and games, I’m afraid you’ve been watching far too much biter porn. Do you know how long it takes to bleed out from an unattended wound to the jugular vein?”
Bond opened his mouth to provide an appropriately pithy response referencing the mandatory training in basic field medicine he’d undergone during his tenure with the Royal Navy, but Q cut him off.
“Five minutes,” he supplied, brisk but casual, like he was reprimanding a tiresome junior agent in the middle of any standard agency debriefing, “at an optimistic maximum. Sever the carotid, and you’re looking at potential seconds. Even werewolves don’t heal fast enough to repair that kind of damage.”
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Tasha didn’t think she’d ever get to have this. Although, to be fair, before this she hadn’t thought much about sex at all, besides a vague notion that sex was something that she probably shouldn’t have. But Data had seen her, black sludge and bleeding eyes and all. And he liked her anyway.
Series
- Part 2 of The Children of Turkana