Fanfiction Crowning Moments of Awesome

[Comartemis]

You ever read a fic with one moment that makes the whole thing worth reading? That's what this thread is for, a variation on the Fanfic Quotes thread meant to document the best moments in fanfiction, mixed in with a bit of a Recommendation feel to it, because hopefully other people will find that one moment to be as awesome as you did. Post quotes if it's just a few sentences ranging up to several paragraphs, but if it's an entire chapter, just give us a link to the story. Actually, do that anyways; give us the title and the author and a link to one or the other.

Needless to say, SPOILER WARNINGS ARE IN FULL EFFECT.

I'll kick this one off with a Crowning Moment of Awesome from Team 8, by S'tar'kan. The moment I'm referring to is Naruto's battle with Neji in the Chuunin Exams. While Hiashi comes across as more of a prick than he does in canon in this fic, Neji is as much of an ass as he's ever been. But Hinata is more than just a background character in Team 8, as Naruto being placed on her team instead of Team 7 elevates her to the roll of main character and gets her a buttload of slow-but-steady character development. By the time she's reached the Chuunin Exams she's taken a few levels in Badass by training with Naruto (who in turn is training with Might Guy and Rock Lee), but she still gets the worst matchup possible by pairing her against Neji. Her somewhat less-inevitable beatdown is nearly ended by a fatal blow, which prompts Shino of all people to do this:

Shino watched the rest of his team leave. While he might have preferred to follow them, it would serve no logical purpose. Also, there were still several shinobi present in the room that possessed unknown capabilities. He could best serve his team by staying and making careful observations. He had qualified for the next round, and he had little doubt that Naruto would as well, so any information he might glean could prove vital.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Maito Gai had removed Hyuuga Neji from the room, which was fortunate. There were several individuals present that did not appreciate his actions, and candor required that he admit he was one of them. It would not do for them to begin the next set of matches before the preliminaries concluded, as he doubted that such eagerness would be appreciated by the examiners.

Glancing around, he noticed that both Rock Lee and Tenten were staring at him. Looking down, he realized that there was a fine spray of aspirated blood across the front of his jacket. Hinata’s blood. He looked back up.

“What variety of flowers would be appropriate?” he asked in the calmest, most matter-of-fact tone of voice he could muster.

“What?” Tenten asked, rubbing a bruise on the side of her head that she’d sustained in her loss to Temari. To their credit, both of them appeared upset with the outcome of the last match, but Shino still had a point to make.

“For your team mate’s funeral,” he clarified.

Lee paled.

And this pales in comparison to the actual battle. It's one thing for Naruto to battle against someone who believes he'll never amount to anything and prove him wrong, but it's completely different when Naruto just wants to beat the ever-loving tar out of him for nearly killing Hinata. Now it's personal, and S'tar'kan makes it that way by having Naruto utterly humiliate Neji by beating the Hyuuga genius in a taijutsu match using the skills honed from countless hours of sparring with Lee and Gai. The result is an Oh Crap moment from Neji when Naruto blows open his closed tenketsu points with a chakra pulse and proceeds to beat him like a drum.

“Is that what you think?” Naruto gasped out as he painfully climbed to his feet.

He was rewarded with the barest flicker of doubt within the white eyes of the Hyuuga genius. “Don’t you realize this is futile?” Neji asked. “You’re just going to get hurt worse if you continue.”

“Do you think I can just walk away from this after what you did?” Naruto demanded.

“After what I did?” Neji shot back. “Do you know what they did to me?” Neji’s normally restrained voice grew rough with uncontrolled emotion. He swiped the mud from his forehead. “This seal controls my fate, just as it did my father’s. He died in place of the clan leader to keep the peace with Kumo.”

“I know about that,” Naruto replied, narrowing his eyes. “Hinata’s father killed the man who kidnapped her, but is it her fault that happened? Maybe her father should have disabled him instead of killing him. Maybe it would have been better if we went to war with Kumo if they are going to do things like that. But the only thing Hinata has to do with your father or your seal is being born.”

Naruto straightened and took a deep breath. “But you refuse to see the truth of that. So I’m going to have to beat it into you.” He let out a harsh cry as he surged his chakra.

Uzumaki Naruto was used to re-opening his tenketsu. Doing that was a normal consequence of sparring with Hinata. But he’d never had to open all of them at once. In doing this, he discovered two things.

One, it hurt like hell. Normally, he was used to a small twinge in his chakra coils from the back pressure. This felt more like someone rammed a utility pole through them.

The second was that pushing out that much chakra all at once, when it was suddenly released by the points opening, was pretty noticeable. Hayate, who’d been edging closer, obviously wondering if he needed to stop the fight, was bowled over. Neji, who was standing a lot closer, went airborne.

Of course, the Hyuuga managed to control his descent, landing lightly on his feet. But when he turned to face Naruto, his expression was clearly shocked. “That’s impossible,” he whispered. Fortunately, Naruto could read lips.

“Just as impossible as fighting against fate,” Naruto said as he closed in again, “Just as impossible as fighting a Jyuuken user hand to hand.”

This has to be one of the most satisfying and entertaining chapters in any fanfic I've ever read.

Well? Who's next?

[Ellen Kuhfeld]

There is always Ranma and Akane: A Love Story (or more at http://www.kawaiikunee.com/slp/R&A-ALS.html

Some schools are known for academics and some are known for sports. Furinkan High, in the Nerima ward of Tokyo, was known for the Fight.

Every school day for more than a year, the boys of the student body had either lain in wait to "win the right to date the fair and beauteous tiger Tendo Akane" (i.e. beat her up) or, if they had done that recently, had attempted to heal up for the Fight tomorrow.

The girls all thought the whole thing was a ploy by Akane to keep the attention of the entire male student populace and had no sympathy for either side.

The populace of the neighborhood thought it was High Theater (not much else happened in Nerima).

Tendo Nabiki thought it had gone much too far, but could think of no viable way to stop something that no longer had a real reason except tradition.

And Tendo Akane vanquished her opponents, and ignored the whispers, and grew ever grimmer as the days went by.

And today will be no different, after all it never is at Furinkan. All the normal players are in place: here is the assembled might of Furinkan's male student body, prepared to do battle in heroic silliness for a prize they no longer remember; here are the observers waiting for a sight they've seen before, and grown bored of; and here is Akane herself grimly preparing to fight for a point of honor she can no longer care about; all just as it was yesterday and the day before. And now Akane has broken into a run at her tormentors, and now the battle is about to be joined. But now, now something ... different ... has happened.

Now a voice has called out, not even very loudly. A smokey contralto with a slight edge of roughness, and power enough to crack the world. A voice that merely by its presence has controlled the situation. A voice that belongs to a shortish, athletic girl standing in the gateway to the school.

She wears loose black velvet pants, three-inch black leather moccasins, a loose blue silk shirt and a brown leather airman's jacket. Her flaming scarlet hair flows down her back in a pigtail tied with an ivory ring in which gems gleam brightly in the sun. Her neck is wrapped by a flowing white silk scarf, her hands are in her jacket pockets, her head is slightly tilted to one side and she has just said "Would someone like to tell me what the Hell they think they're doing?"

And nothing will ever be the same again.

~~~~~

Takuichi Daikun was not a happy kendoist. He had striven and won in honorable combat for the privilege of leading today's charge so that the entire school could see his honorable struggle with the fair Tendo Akane. (He's the first to get beaten up today.) It was a great honor to be first, and he had looked forward to it. But now his moment in the sun had been ruined, upstaged by some ... barbarian girl ... and his honor had been shadowed. And so it was that he did a very foolish thing: he got her attention.

"This is an affair of Honor, girl, who are you to..."

Somehow she had moved across the dozen yards separating them without his seeing it. Up close he noted that her eyes were an incredible blue as deep as all the worlds' oceans, that several slight lines of old scars crossed the sides of her face, that her gaze was literally impossible to look away from, and that she had just tapped him on the nose.

"My name is Ranma. I asked you a question." From far away he heard his voice stammering some sort of explanation for the morning's action. Now that he thought about it, it did seem sort of silly.

"Ah. I see. and what was your place in this ... 'honorable combat'." An even, calm voice, nigh unto serenity.

"I have won the right to first contact today. It is a very great honor." He hadn't really said that had he? He hadn't meant to.

"Ah. Well I certainly wouldn't wish to deprive you of your... 'honor'."

The hands that broke his shoulder blades and dislocated his arms were certainly gentle he thought, though unstoppable in their power. The snap kicks that flattened his testicles and broke both of his lower legs skillfully applied and blinding in their speed. The twin open hand push that flung him a dozen yards backwards was so fast and yet so graceful as to be beyond belief. And was that an energy discharge from the point of contact? 'Why, it doesn't even hurt' he thought as he flew backwards through the air. Until five feet before hitting the wall, whereupon it hurt a lot. The loss of consciousness that followed after hitting the wall was probably a mercy.

Ranma turned to the remaining assembled male students and bestowed upon them the calm, angelic smile of someone who is wondering how far your arm can be pulled from its socket before the flesh and ligaments separate, and whether beating you to death with it will require one subsequent blow or two.

Above, Nabiki stared down in shock. Well that was different.

"Now I was sitting in a tavern in a country far away a couple months back," she remarked conversationally, "trying to get something to eat. And the door opened and in walked the nastiest trio of villains you ever did lay eyes on. They were dragging along a youngish girl who really didn't seem to want to be there, (what with the torn clothing and the bruises and all) and in ... speaking ... to them it developed that yeah they had kidnapped her, and yeah they had done what you think they'd done, and oh yeah just cause they could, cause no-one could stop 'em."

She shook her head in dismay. "So I ripped the big one's heart out, and broke the second's neck and used a chair to crush the skull of the one who was running away. Because it was the right thing to do." Nabiki registered further shock. Well, that was different.

"Now I'm not saying that this case is exactly similar, mind you, but you do know how badly you've been insulting the other girls in the school, right?"

Students.Furinkan.male.assembled quivered in terror and huddled together.

"And while I myself am the most gentle and reasonable of people, I understand that other people aren't and if they," she waved her hand at the watchers above, "should decide to hold a grudge, well .... Things could become ... dire."
The word "dire" seemed to resonate with especial doom.

"Continued for a whole year? Why I doubt if any amount of flowers would help. You'd have to escalate straight to chocolate or even jewelry just to get a chance to plead your case."

Ranma shook her head sadly at the fate that no doubt awaited them. "And you still standing there."

Students.Furinkan.male.assembled blanched further and scrambled en masse for the door to the fire within that seemed nonetheless much to be preferred to the merciless gaze without, only to be recalled to heel.

"Oh and by the way gentlemen... if it should happen that intense currying of favor does grant you the no-doubt-undeserved opportunity to plead for your miserable lives... my advice to you would be to grovel, and to grovel quite abjectly."

Nabiki wondered if you could overload on shock. That had been different. And then looked about her, and heard the all but audible grinding of the gears in the heads of the other female onlookers, and saw the slowly growing grins, and then sprinted for the door. A phone, she had to get to a phone.

Ranma crossed her arms in front of her chest and shook her head sadly at the mass of boyish silliness frantically cramming itself through Furinkan's front doors, and turned to Akane, who was still standing where she had been about to knock Daikun into next week and whose mouth was still open in shock.

"Aheh," she sheepishly tugged on her braid, "sorry about that. Sometimes I get carried away."

Akane shook herself and closed her mouth. "No, not at all. You were wonderful! I'm Tendo Akane, wanna be friends?"

"Sure!" Ranma's eyes lit. Akane was staggered again by their power. "If you've been going through that every day for a year you need a friend and it's always nice to make one the first day. I'm Bushiko Ranma." She extended her hand, pinky outstretched and Akane linked hers likewise.

Talking quietly they walked in the door and up the stairs.

"Tendo Akane, huh? 'Scarlet Road to Heaven', how lovely."

Akane felt her cheeks heat. "Um, thanks! Um, Bushiko?"

"It's a nom de guerre," Ranma explained sunnily, "long story, I'll tell you later."

"The heck with that story; how did you do that push? That was great!"

"You think so? It's not that hard: you just..."

And walked happily to class, and smiled merrily upon the cringing boys therein, and did not gloat. At least, not on the outside.

Mind you, there are many more peak moments in this one. The story's not finished, but the first arc is.

[Penguin-sa]

And then Ranma-Nabiki and Luna sighed, leaned back, and watched the stars for a while. The moon was about a quarter up the sky, several days past full. Luna raised a paw to it. "Up there," she said. "Above the middle, and a little to the right. That's the Sea of Serenity. The capitol of the Moon Kingdom was in the mountains to the south. We had a lovely view of Earth. I came to Earth a few times. From here, the Moon was blue, with green and amber for our crops and white from the clouds. It looked like Earth still does."

Luna fell silent again. Ranma moved closer to her, rested her hand on Luna's shoulder. The cat began to cry. Ranma picked her up and held her to her breast, Luna's head resting on her shoulder. Ranma stroked, stroked, until the cat hiccuped, then fell silent.

"What happened?" Ranma asked gently, after a while.

"Queen Beryl and the Dark Kingdom happened. She tried to conquer it all, and destroyed so much that the magic couldn't hold. There were people living on all the moons and planets, but when the magic died, everything died. Earth was the only place people could live without magic, and even here, most of the people died and the rest fell into barbarism for thousands of years. Everything done by magic was undone. Cities crumbled, crops withered, the air went away.

"My poor world, my poor people! There are only two cats left, only a handful of humans – me and Artemis and my princess and her court." The cat began to cry again.

Ranma couldn't say anything, but she could hold Luna. She did, until the cat fell silent, and beyond.

"I'm sorry," Luna said at last. "I've tried so hard to be strong for my princess, for my Artemis. Give me a sympathetic ear, and I fall apart."

"D'you want me to walk you home? You shouldn't be by yourself. You already have too much of that."

"Could you? I don't want to be alone. But this is important, Ranma, this is why we fight. Queen Beryl came back, about a year ago. She tried again. We pushed her back into the Dark Kingdom, sealed her overlord Metallia away again, but she could have done it all over. We can't let it happen. Those are the stakes," she said, as she moved her paw over the glowing cityscape of Tokyo, then lifted it to point at the barren Moon.

Sombrely, Ranma dropped her disguise. She walked to the edge, stepped over, landed gently on the ground with Luna still on her shoulder. Ranma began walking towards Minato ward.

One of my favorite passages from one my favorite Fan Fics, Different Colors by Ellen Kuhfeld. A surprisingly somber and insightful moment in a light hearted fic. Be kind to a harmless old man and keep writing Ellen.

[claymade]

The crowning moment of awesome for Allyn Yonge's fic Furies can be outlined in three words:

"HIRYUU!"

"SHOUTEN!"

"HAAAAAA!!!"

Now admittedly, those same three words form the core of a significant number of Ranmaverse awesome moments. But even in that respect, I've never seen the one in the above fic equaled.

[Comartemis]

Having read the fic in question, claymade, I have little choice but to agree wholeheartedly. Never has Ranma been so GAR as he was in that moment. Akane was pretty goddamn awesome too.

[CRBWildcat]

Scene from The Best of Both Worlds by JME2. This Star Trek/Star Wars crossover hasn't been updated in some time---and has a few grammar errors here and there---but it's still a very interesting read. The following scene is proof of this.

From his sprawled position, Master Skywalker breathed sharply as he recognized the warrior standing before the Enterprise’s bridge crew.

“Tsavong Lah.”

The Warmaster starred down upon the fallen Jedi and grinned.

“Jeedai Skywalker. And the infidel Picard. Yes. A good day for the Yuuzhan Vong indeed. The destruction of your pitiful and cowardly attempt an alliance with the infidels of the Federation and the end of the lives for the most seasoned warriors of the Jeddai Your son will soon be ours to sacrifice to the gods -- as will Jacen and his sister.”

“Never!”

Lah kicked Skywalker’s face with his implanted foot and then turned towards Picard.

“Earth will be the stepping stone from which we shall vanquish the Unclean that drove us from Yuzzhan’tar!”

So, Axum had been telling the truth, Picard thought quietly. Not that it made any difference at this point.

“And your broken body and flagship will be a prize and sign from the gods that your Federation is nothing next to the Yuuzhan Vong and our gods!”

“Not everyone would agree with such a statement,” came a clear, determined voice from the back of the bridge. Tsavong Lah turned his massive form --

--and faced Data. The warriors prepared to rush the android, but Lah raised his hand, stopping them in their tracks.

“Greetings.”

Lah glared at the Enterprise’s operations officer.

“You dare to speak down to me infidel?!”

The Warmaster dropped his amphistaff and balled his fist, punching Data --

-- and pulled back his hand in limited pain as his knuckles contracted with the android’s duranium covering.

“What are you?”

His emotion chip charging and formulating the proper response for such a creature , the android starred at the Yuuzhan Vong Warmaster.

“I’m an andoroid, you son of a bitch.”

And then Data slugged Tsavong Lah as hard as he could, breaking the Warmaster’s cheekbone, and following through with an uppercut that sent the Warmaster into the ceiling of the bridge and lodged him into the central lighting fixture. Lah screamed with a mixture of pain and delight as the Enterprise’s raw power cursed through his body before finally landing ungracefully upon the command chair, causing it to topple over.”

“How do you like how that $^@! works?!”

[Acey]

Some great ones from Hybrid Theory:

Akane blushed. And then was almost dragged to the side as her father's clutching grasp impacted her side like a missile. "Akane! I forbid you to go out to fight evil murdering organisations of monsters that control the world from the shadows!"

----

"Well..." Akane sighed. "Maybe if you hadn't insisted we train with steel blades. I have some perfectly suitable bokken..."
"Bah!" Shampoo swung her sword down. The grass rippled in a wave in the wake of her swing. "If you want to train with a sword, train with a sword. If you want to train with a stick, get a dog."

----

"I tell you what. I just want the girl. You leave her. Run away like a bitch, and I won't eat you too." The voice sounded calm, almost urbane.
"Not a chance!" Yomiko called back. "I've dealt with vampires before."
"Oh I know," the voice replied. "Yomiko Readman. Also known as, 'The Paper'" He said her codename in a deep, mocking tone, then laughed hysterically. "What kind of fucking lame codename is that? 'Oh no, look out, its THE PAPER! She's gonna collate us to death!

----

"I think we're missing the point," Ami insisted. "She did ask for our help."
"I asked for HER help," Nanami said, pointing at Usagi.
"Oh?" Usagi blinked and laughed nervously. "How could I possibly help you? I'm just plain old everyday Usagi! I'm certainly not magical or legendary or anything!" Rei rolled her eyes.

[Tovath]

Do you have a link for 'Hybrid Theory', Acey?

[Neko-]

Enjoy: Hybrid Theory: http://www.bladeandepsilon.com/hybridtheory.htm

[Muramasa]

Speaking of the Hiryu Shoten Ha...

I danced out of range of the Varragor's strike, bits of rock
stinging my hands and face. I should have been afraid, I suppose. I'd
seen what this thing could do. It had torn a swath through the Inquisitors,
waded through everything the senshi could throw at it, and even stood up
to a goddess without blinking.
Yeah, I should have been afraid. But I was just too damned
pissed. People were bad enough, but these monsters, they didn't fight out
of fear or jealousy or a need to prove who was strongest. It seemed that,
whenever they appeared, they fought and killed just for the sheer joy of
destroying lives. I'd be damned if I'd let this ugly abomination run
amuck without doing anything about it.
And I could do something about it. If the girls did their part, I
was pretty sure I could deliver. Because, during all the fighting, I'd
realised something interesting.
This thing was putting out chi.
It was hot and twisted, but it was definitely chi. Maybe that was
the life force of a monster like this. Or maybe, and wouldn't THIS be
poetic justice, maybe it was the chi of the poor Inquisitor it had eaten,
and of the person whose bones had spilled out, and all the others before
them.
Poetic, because that one little fact had given me an idea. The
pieces had fallen into place just like they did sometimes, so quick, so
right, so damned GOOD. It must be like this to write music or paint or
sculpt things out of solid rock, to take a blank canvas and suddenly see
just what it could be.
Screw techniques that depended on the key and sent me into a
state where I'd be as dangerous to my friends as this thing. All I needed
to make this work was to keep my chi cold. And that was not going to be
a problem. Hot chi. Cold chi. And one hell of a big-ass spiral.
The thing belched a green fireball at me, but I slipped away from
the explosion, staying just ahead of it, close enough that it didn't lose
interest, far enough that it couldn't score a hit.
Just keep coming, asshole. I've got a little surprise for you.

And...

I was bleeding from a dozen small cuts, but I didn't feel any pain.
The universe had gotten small, just me and big, black, and ugly. I was
driving him into a frenzy. The closer he came, the more I dodged every
attack by a hair, the angrier he got. His fists tore up concrete but
couldn't connect. When his hard-edged mouth opened, I sprang away
from the ever-shrinking balls of greenish energy, always keeping to the
spiral. That took all my speed and skill, but I had both. And I knew the
stakes. I couldn't give up.
And then his chest opened wide, tendrils shooting out at me as
smoking bones tumbled from that dark hell, wanting to drag me inside.
Joke was on him. I'd already survived hell once. The sight didn't freeze
me, didn't shock me. I hurled two small balls of chi from my hands in
quick succession, and the chest plates closed quickly.
Yeah. Like I figured. He was vulnerable when the chest was
open. Maybe he couldn't be killed that way, but I was pretty sure he
could be hurt. But risking someone's life in order to keep those plates
open for a mere chance of hurting this brute wasn't the plan.
Speaking of the plan ...
The spiral was growing tighter and tighter. Soon I was going to
run out of space, and as our death-dance got closer his reach advantage
became more and more of a threat. I slipped through the path I could
feel, loose-limbed and cold, oh so cold. It had to be soon. Otherwise I
was going to have to show my hand to the enemy, and that would be that.
The element of surprise would be gone.
Come on, ladies. Almost there.

Almost out of time. One enormous fist grazed my hair as I
backed up, the wind of its passage loud in my ear. The ground shook as
the Varragor advanced, more eager than ever as it sensed the end of our
dance. My cheek burned where Dasma had marked me. Distantly, the
sounds of fighting still raged.
Its flaming eyes burned into mine, and that evil grin was all for me.
Gotcha now, it said. Gotcha now, you stupid little pest. Make me work?
Waste my time? Don't think so.
Closer.
Ten more steps.
Six more.
Five.
My name. V, running, calling.
Damn, I thought, catching a glimpse of her as I took the last few
steps. I love a woman with good timing.
The Varragor was on top of me.
"Surprise, asshole," I said.
And brought the whirlwind.

And finally...

Screaming with rage the Varragor rose, caught in my Hiryu
Shouten Ha. Winds buffeted me as I stood there at the centre of the huge
whirlwind, arm thrust up in triumph. Didn't see that coming, did you,
tough guy? Not as easy as murdering those poor bastards, huh?
Ranma Saotome takes a lot of killing. Tell all your friends.
But I wasn't done, not yet. The tricky part was still to come. I
eyed the wall of the vortex, judging my moment.
Then I leaped.
Caught in the rising wall of wind, I rode it up, my long coat
whipping around my body, braid snaking like something alive. I was
close to the outer edge of the twister as I'd intended, quickly rising higher
and higher. I didn't fight it. I needed to go high, higher than the
Varragor. Which, as I suspected, wasn't a problem. It was a lot heavier
than I was, and I rode the edge of the wind up like an express elevator to
Crazyville. I passed the howling monstrosity, enduring the battering
winds as the tower behind me came into view again and again like some
weird strobing image. Not yet. Not yet. Not quite ...
Now.
Twisting, I rode the hard-edged wind to the perimeter of the
vortex. If I'd judged wrong, the momentum would throw me in the
wrong direction, and I'd probably end up crippled by the fall. Or dead.
But the Ranma express doesn't make any stops in the lands of
Safety or Common Sense. It was non-stop to Crazyville, baby. I shot out
of the whirlwind, the swirling wind reluctantly letting me slip from its
grip, and then I was flying through the air high above the ground,
travelling like a bullet.
I hadn't misjudged.
I tucked my body and tumbled, twisting so that my legs were
behind me and I was facing the twister, howling with glee to match the
Varragor's shrieks as I drew in as much chi as I could, letting it pool
deep in my gut, building it higher and higher, wreathing myself in it.
I hit the side of the building feet-first, knees bending to absorb as
much of the impact as possible. I felt the stone crunch and give beneath
my feet as I hit, and pain lanced through my body but my flaring chi
protected me from the worst of it.
And there I was, pinned by momentum against the stone wall of
the towering building nearly thirty stories up. I could see the gleaming
circle down there, and the Varragor, rising in the twister.
It is canny, she'd said. It would never be lured into the circle.
Fine by me. I wasn't much for luring.
I was just going to send it there, whether it wanted to go or not.
I only had seconds, so I'd have to make them count. The
Varragor spun higher and higher, and the angle wasn't quite perfect, but I
was out of time. It tumbled through the screaming winds, death's-head
maw gaping wide as it tried to get a bead on me. My chi rumbled, coiled,
and built to a crescendo, straining for release, wanting to bring the hot
screaming fist of revenge down on Mister Varragor..
Bang.
I unleashed the bolt, hands thrust out with a cry, and it flew true,
punching through the wind and nailing the stinking beast squarely. The
Varragor howled as it rode downwards on the head of a comet of searing
blue energy. It had a parting gift for me, though, and as my feet started
to pull away from the wall it fired back, one last roiling ball of greenish
energy streaking up at me.
Damn, I hate a sore loser.

Mark MacKinnon's 'On a Clear Day You Can See Forever'

Man, I love that story.

[Comartemis]

Here’s one from Harry Potter and the Nightmares of Future’s Past by S’tar’kan.

Timewarp!Harry spends the entire first two books setting things up so that his circle of friends are in better shape for the inevitable conflict with Voldemort in the future, and one of the big conflicts of the story up to this point is Harry’s fears that they’ll hate him for deceiving them and manipulating them “for the greater good”, just as Dumbledore did to him. Even after he comes clean at the end of the second year he still harbors some doubts about his actions… until this scene with Ginny which wraps up the whole conflict.

Harry was resolved to return to the castle and face the music, when he noticed a lone figure sitting on the stands. It was rather small, but topped with a mane of fiery red hair that Harry could pick out of a crowd of thousands. Instead of landing on the pitch, he descended toward the stands, landing next to Ginny. He dismounted and sat down a few feet away, holding his broom carefully in his lap.

“Nice weather for flying,” she said in a slightly strained voice.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “The match against Ravenclaw is in a week. I’m not sure if I can be ready in time.”

“Playing against Cho Chang?” she asked.

“I think so,” Harry said, nodding. “I need to be at my best against her; she’s a pretty good flyer.”

“Very pretty in general,” Ginny observed coolly.

Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he nodded agreement. Her eyebrows twitched a little – perhaps because she thought Harry was still looking out at the pitch. “She and Cedric make a good couple,” he added.

Ginny frowned at Harry and he turned in his seat so he was facing her. “If you saw anything after the DA meeting, she gave me a peck on the cheek because of what I said to Cedric when everyone was accusing Hufflepuff.”

The redheaded girl blushed lightly as she stared down at her hands. “Then you two never…?”

“In the future?” Harry asked, but continued without waiting for the answer. “Yeah, we went out once. It was a complete disaster,” he added with a grimace.

Ginny let out the giggle she’d failed to completely swallow. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s just, that look on your face…”

Harry shrugged. “I’ll admit it’s a bit funnier in hind-sight.” He tried to remain blasé, but he knew what was coming next. She’d ask if they ever had a relationship, he’d tell the truth, and she’d hopefully just tell him he was more of a brother to her now. If she felt betrayed by his actions, she’d be hurt and angry. Harry wasn’t sure if either of them could stand being together at The Burrow if that happened.

He clenched his hands on his broomstick to keep them from shaking.

“I didn’t see you in the Great Hall at breakfast,” she said, suddenly changing the subject, to Harry’s vast relief.

“I didn’t much feel like eating,” Harry admitted.

“Well,” Ginny said, bouncing to her feet, “I didn’t have much to eat either, and they should be starting lunch soon. If you get any thinner, Mum won’t let me and Ron hear the end of it when we go home for the holidays.”

“All right,” Harry agreed. It still made him smile when Ginny fussed at him like that. In at least one way, she was truly her mother’s daughter.

They began walking back to the castle, side by side, Harry’s Nimbus balanced on his shoulder. He enjoyed the warm sunshine and the comfortable silence when the latter was broken by Ginny’s voice.

“Harry?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper. She was looking down at the grass as they walked.

“Yeah?” he answered. It was easier, he supposed, if they weren’t looking at each other.

“We were more than friends, weren’t we? In the future, that is.” She asked, her voice catching a little at the end.

“Yeah,” he answered, steeling himself for her reaction.

She was silent for a maddening length of time. “Good,” she said quietly.

The two of them, witch and wizard, walked back to the castle together. Maybe Fate wasn’t such a bitch after all.

Incidentally, Luna makes crowning moments of awesome almost every time she opens her mouth. Or maybe I'm just biased in her favor...

[Tenebrae]

One of my favorite passages from one my favorite Fan Fics, Different Colors by Ellen Kuhfeld. A surprisingly somber and insightful moment in a light hearted fic. Be kind to a harmless old man and keep writing Ellen.

Link, please?

[Ellen Kuhfeld]

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2773547/1/Different_Colors
http://washuu.net/fiction.htm

[Tenebrae]

Thank you kindly.

[Comartemis]

This isn't awesome to the same degree as most of the other entries posted so far, but it still made me cackle like an old witch on Halloween.

From Invert, a Harry Potter/Full Metal Alchemist crossover by Marz1.

Ed ducked another curse and risked a quick scan of the battle field. Ron was still firing away, and the six Death Eaters still standing were doing their best to retreat without being conspicuous about it. Ed smirked for a moment, planning out his next transmutation, and then his feet left the ground. He tried to curl up, to brace for the inevitable hard landing, but he just hung there. His head was still pounding with adrenaline and he spent several confused moments trying to wriggle loose from whatever was holding him up. The sounds of the battle were fading out, not because of a decisive hit by either side, but in anticipation of one.

A few Death Eaters were carefully circling around Hermione and Ron, and those that had fallen (and were still alive) were starting to get back up. Ron was watching the men near him, but Hermione was watching Ed, and her mouth gaped as she saw what was coming up behind him. Ed’s feet kicked uselessly, trying to turn so he could see as well. Ron turned then and lashed his wand.

“Finite!” he shouted.

Ed felt something pass through him, and he bobbed a little in the air, but Ron’s spell just wasn’t strong enough. Ed started to bring his hands together, to knock something loose with some atmospheric alchemy, but his arms froze with three inches of space between them. His body started turning, and after traveling 180 degrees, he stopped, face to face with a monster.

The red eyes and reptilian face didn’t worry him too much, as he’d seen chimera in worse condition. Neither did the wand in his hand that glowed faintly, nor the heavy black robes that seemed to steal light from the night around them in a way that was just plain wrong. What caused Ed concern to the point that his heart skipped a few beats in his chest was the way the monster smirked. It clearly said “despite what you may think I’ve already won”.

“Edward Elric?” he hissed as he approached.

Ed thought his tone was faintly amused, which tripped the ‘anger’ switch in his brain. This usually caused him more trouble than not, but at least it stomped down the shaking animal fear that was trying to take over.

“Who wants to know?” Ed growled.

“I do, of course,” Voldemort replied. “And I am quite certain you’re him.”

Voldemort reached out his free hand and grabbed Ed’s chin. Ed would have bitten him if he could’ve moved his head, but whatever had frozen his hands was working on his neck as well.

“Where is Potter, and where is the Scroll?” he asked, almost politely.

The red eyes in front of him filled his vision; his head ached. Familiar images began popping up in his head. Harry in the ruins at Godric’s Hollow, telling him he couldn’t come. Harry setting Inferi ablaze in the cavern. Harry taking the Scroll from his hand and being sucked into it. Ed tried to shut down the involuntary movie, to push out the foreign presence, but it was impossibly harder than the instinct that had forced Snape out of his mind when he was first captured. He tried to blot out the images of Harry with memories of Hogwarts, of the battle by the Riddle Mansion, even the sight of his house burning down in Resembul. None of that worked.

“And where is the Scroll now?” Voldemort murmured.

Ed felt as if he was being stabbed through the eyes and all of his will power couldn’t force a single blink. All it did was cause a choking gargling sound to bubble out of his throat, which Voldemort apparently found entertaining. The stabbing got worse and Ed started to worry that any second his brains would just go flying out the back of his head. Some part of Ed’s mind suggested bringing up an image no one could look away from.

Ed thought of the Gate.

His intention had only been to bring up something really distracting to buy a few seconds to think of something better. His memories of the Gate weren’t even that clear, only thousands of grasping arms pulling him in and then apart and those disembodied eyes. Of course, later he would conclude that showing an evil megalomaniac the source and hub of all Alchemic power was probably just as bad as telling him where his current hedge against mortality was. That was later, though. At that precise moment, Ed couldn’t really think. Things were rushing through his head too quickly for anything as mundane as thought to come into play.

Suddenly Ed’s eyes were suddenly his own again. Voldemort’s hand dropped away from his face, and the Dark Lord took a step back. Ed felt a shadow falling over him like a wet sheet, but he couldn’t turn to look for its source. He didn’t really want to, either, but another step of retreat by Voldemort cost him the hold he had on Ed, and the teenager dropped to the ground. He rolled over onto his knees, staring up at the huge black monolith that was taking form. He pressed his hands together and squeezed his eyes shut, doing his best to dissipate any energy he might have accessed in his disoriented state. When he opened them again, there was nothing but an empty field before him.

For just a moment the Gate had manifested. Ed wasn’t sure if he or Voldemort had summoned it, but its presence was enough to know that things were about to get much worse. He pushed that knowledge aside, and made use of his now-functioning limbs. Voldemort was still blinking off whatever after-images the Gate had left in his eyes. He got his feet under him and charged.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Ron Weasley had a lot of memories burned into his mind, things so shocking or awesome or terrifying that even on his dying day they’d still be with him. Never before had he accumulated so many such memories in a single hour. First he’d seen Hermione tearing her way through a platoon of Death Eaters with a savage fury he hadn’t thought her capable of. And then he saw the Dark Lord Voldemort, in living color not twenty feet away. Then he saw a huge indescribable something appear behind Edward as Voldemort tried to peel information out of his mind. What happened next, though, topped everything he’d witnessed in his life thus far.

Edward Elric kicked He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the groin.