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phantomwarrior12 · 7 months

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War Wrought Reunions (Chapter 6)

She lit up.

There is no other way to describe the straighten of her spine, the raise of her shoulders, the unclench of her fists.

All because she saw him.

Crow balances his blade on the tip of his finger, sunset flickering along her frame and then back to her helmet visor.

Over his shoulder, there is shouting and tension but she doesn't seem to pay it any mind as she stops beside him.

"Not sure I'd go in there if I were you," he quirks a smile and she tilts her head. Her visor drifts back to the commotion and then to him like a silent question.

"You caused quite the ruckus out there, Old Light."

She shrugs and he arches a brow. She doesn't care. Guess she really takes no matter the cost to heart. That shouldn't surprise him about her but still. The alliance is so fragile. Barreling in like that, killing all those Cabal - she's usually more pragmatic, usually so much more aware of circumstances.

Perhaps Savathûn has her wound up as well.

The Witch Queen escaped after the ritual. From what Crow had heard, she dumped Osiris there and vanished. Mara was pissed. Saint, relieved. But the Young Wolf? He can't get a read on her.

So much has happened since the last time he was in the City. Has she really changed all that much?

Come on.

She beckons wordlessly with a jerk of her head, moving toward what very well could be the scolding of a lifetime.

Still, Crow flips his blade once more before sliding it into its sheath, trailing after her. As they approach, his eyes flicker over the various parties; the irritation from Caiatl is palpable but his Hunter doesn't pay her any mind.

She's either brave or very, very foolish.

"Guardian, what fortuitous timing." Zavala straightens when his gaze settles on the Guardian. As she comes to a halt beside Saladin, Crow moves behind her, his eyes flitting from the Commander to the Empress as he settles with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Indeed," Caiatl agrees, a degree of anger in her voice.

Crow snorts softly behind them all, drawing Saladin’s gaze and a stern, reprimanding look at that. The Gunslinger doesn’t react as the Iron Lord turns back, gazing at the Young Wolf expectantly.

And yet, she seems completely at ease. Her hands hang at her sides, her helmet angled up toward the Empress as Caiatl speaks.

“I’m fresh from performing Cabal funeral rites. Care to explain?”

As expected, the Young Wolf defaults to her Ghost answering for her. But as Ghost begins to speak, her gaze shifts abruptly to him, as if surprised or…expectant?

“Our condolences, Empress. Your people fought and died with honor. But they didn’t have to.”

Crow watches the Guardian look back at Caiatl, apprehensive, perhaps, beneath that helmet. She’s always so thorough in veiling her true emotions, certainly more than Crow would like. She’s indecipherable most times when he wishes she were transparent with him.

Now is no different.

Especially not after Savathun’s reveal.

Caiatl’s frustrated growl draws Crow’s focus back to the present, away from gazing at the hood of his - well, of the Guardian.

“We can all prevent future losses if we choose to put the incident on Mars behind us and work together.” Zavala intercedes smoothly, taking a step forward and gestures in an almost placating manner with both hands extended palm-up at his sides. His weight shifts before he draws a holoprojector from his belt. The soft click of the device reveals a visual of - a Hive Knight? But larger, bearing a shield.

Crow’s brow furrows as he leans, shifting his weight to his right hip as he stares at the projection.

Is this what you fought aboard that ship?

“What we discovered there is a threat to both humanity and the Cabal.” Zavala says, gazing up at Caiatl intently.

The Empress angles her head, intrigue flashing across golden eyes. “You want my help.” Less a question, more a statement.

“Want is a strong word.” Saladin interjects, both Hunters’ focus shifting to him and then back to the Empress.

The Guardian has begun to grow restless, her fingers tapping lightly against her holster along her right hip. Crow’s eyes are drawn to the barely detectable disturbance. She wants to leave. To get back to the fight before things worsen.

But she needs an answer. To know whether or not she can rely on Caiatl and her forces in the coming fight. To know if she will have to kill more Cabal.

Caiatl’s chin lifts, a degree of smugness in her voice as she answers the Iron Lord’s correction. “You need my help.”

The Commander speaks up before Saladin can respond, “I don’t know how the Hive came into possession of the Light. Ikora will find out. But in the meantime…” His eyes lift to Caiatl.

“Invincibility lies in the defense; the possibility of victory in the attack.” Her hand clenches into a fist on the final word.

“Sun Tzu?” Saladin’s gaze lifts in barely contained surprise.

“I’ve read your texts.” The Empress returns cooly before her eyes moves back to the projected Lucent Knight, “You want us to hit them.”

“I need us to hit them. Hard.” Zavala corrects, deactivating the projection and clenches it in his fist. Caiatl meets his gaze steadily before she chuckles softly.

The decision is made, seemingly in a single glance between leaders.

“Then hit them, we shall.” She says, gesturing to her Psions and they turn, preparing for her departure.

The Commander and Saladin move past the Young Wolf, each giving her their own form of an expectant, chiding look before heading back toward the Courtyard.

The Guardian turns to leave as well but not before Crow steps forward, uncrossing his arms so he can catch hold of her forearm. His voice lowers as her head turns toward him curiously.

"Rooftop?" He asks and she straightens, giving a firm nod.

"See you there," he squeezes her gauntlet gently before letting her pass.

—

The sound of her boots alert Crow of his Guardian's approach. He tears his eyes away from the Traveler, pivoting to face her.

"It's good to see you again," he manages softly, taking a few steps toward her.

She almost lunges forward, he can read her well enough to note the restraint in her movements. Instead of an embrace, she gives him a nod, holding a few feet short of him.

Keeping her distance. Prepared for the worst.

He's the one who closes the distance, much to her surprise. He's the one who lifts her hood off and gently removes her helmet. Traveler, she looks exhausted. There's no spark in her eyes, but there are bags beneath them.

She looks ready to drop.

"You look like you've had a hell of a day."

"You try getting thrown out of a Throne World." Her head sags forward, resting on his shoulder as Crow chuckles softly.

The fact she’s so willing to ease into whatever form of contact Crow will allow is a good sign. It means their last parting wasn’t as…damaging as Crow believed it was.

"I'm sure the scolding you got didn't help matters." He teases gently, laying his hands on her waist. It's as if all the tension drains from her frame beneath his touch. They stay there for a long moment, basking in silence and a comfort both have been denied for a long time. But she doesn’t reach for him. Her hands hang at her sides, fingers partially curled as they simply stand there. When she starts to keel forward into him, his grip tightens to steady her. Her hands snap up, curling around the front of his shirt, "Whoa, easy." He adjusts his stance, "You sure you're alright?"

"Mhm," she mumbles, pressing into the crook of his neck. She seems to have caught herself but the exhaustion must be catching up to her.

"You should probably get some sleep," he adjusts his grip, scooping the Hunter up in his arms.

"I'm fine," she protests even as he sits with her in his lap.

Stubborn. Always so damned stubborn on everything.

"Yeah, fine isn't the word I'd use. How long has it been since you've gotten any sleep?"

"...next question." Her arms loop up around his neck and she makes herself comfortable. Her breath against the side of his neck is damned distracting when he’s trying to reprimand her.

"Guardian," he scolds lowly.

She squeezes him in response, outright ignoring the tone of his voice in favor of kissing the side of his neck innocently.

To hell with it. He doesn't have the heart to argue right now anyway.

"I missed you," he manages after a few minutes of silence.

Her answer that follows isn't verbal. She presses another light kiss to the side of his neck before snuggling into him. It's confirmation that he'd been missed as well - sometimes he wishes she'd just say it.

She’s left so much unsaid between them but then again, so has he. He needs to broach Uldren's death. Her role. The memories - but she's so warm. Solid and comfortable and soothing tucked against him. He can swear he can make out a soft snore after a while.

The Guardian fell asleep.

His eyes drop to her, tucking a few strands of hair back away from her face before tilting her head up.

Traveler, he has missed her.

He's still angry, at least, to some degree. But his need to be near her outweighs that resentment churning in the pit of his stomach - at least right now.

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. The tension around her eyes ebbs in her sleep even as the rigidity in her shoulders falters. She almost melts against him.

His thumb traces that familiar scar over her brow, taking his time with each marred inch. How many new scars? How many sleepless nights?

How much has his Guardian changed?

—

He can’t…how could any of them be okay with this?

Lucent Hive are a threat, yes. But they don’t deserve this. To be trapped in their minds while a Psion pushes and prods and seeks the answers they require.

Perhaps it reminds him too much of Savathûn's efforts in months past. The prodding questions. The uncomfortably insightful observations. The games she played with all of their heads.

With Crow, she was fairly straightforward after her Osiris guise was dropped.

But how much had she toyed with the Queen of the Reef?

How much did she drudge from the Guardian’s past to sew discourse and stagger Earth's champion?

How much damage did she do to the Vanguard's strongest warriors?

Regardless, their efforts and essential compromise of the Vanguard's morality is not something Crow can stand for. They're better than this, why would they stoop so low?

Crow doesn't care about the answer, only that he puts an end to this.

And there's only one woman he can rely on that for. But it isn’t easy to catch the Young Wolf before she departs each time. She’s usually in and out in a matter of minutes.

Thankfully, this time she’s waiting for whatever intel the Psion pulls and Crow has a chance to talk to her.

He moves up alongside her, bumping his shoulder into hers and her head lifts.

Traveler, you look just as tired as you did the day I returned.

“Long time, no see, Guardian.” He says warmly.

She doesn’t have a direct say in any of this but…she does have the Commander’s ear. If she agrees with Crow, she can talk to him, maybe get him to put an end to this.

It’s inhumane and…the Vanguard shouldn’t stand for this.

Her head angles toward him, her arms uncross and the Guardian rests the back of her hand against Crow’s.

He's grateful she's returned to initiating points of contact. With the way things have been between them, he feared she'd keep her distance. That he would have to approach her each time and be the first to broach that invisible barrier.

He smiles over at her, turning his wrist so he can slot his fingers between hers. Her head tilts in surprise and he smiles softly.

You're always so…sweet about things like this. Like you don't expect it.

She surprises him by curling her hand around his and pressing into him. Her head rests on his shoulder and she breathes a weighted sigh though she feels as though she relaxes. As if his touch had brought her a respite from the weight on her shoulders.

Can he really add one more thing to her list of burdens?

No. It wouldn't be right. She is fighting a war on two fronts…Crow will deal with this his way.

For now, he holds her hand tightly and he waits with her. He savors these fleeting moments alone with her while she clings to his touch and no doubt, reminds herself what humanity feels like between stints of being the only weapon Earth has that can consistently slay gods.

Lord Saladin emerges from the chamber probably closer to a half hour later but it feels so much shorter. A matter of minutes.

The Young Wolf lifts her head, straightens up but she does not pull her hand from Crow’s. If anything, she holds it tighter while her mentor addresses her.

His briefing is succinct.

She has her next target. Another Light-recovery op. Another fireteam that never reported in.

The Iron Lord departs and Crow looks over at her.

She looks distracted, no doubt already going through logistics and potential strategies.

He loves watching her mind work but for now…for now he has to reason out his own strategy to handle this…delicately. But he's not about to let her leave without a proper goodbye.

Crow steps closer, drawing her gaze from the floor and she summons a dazed sort of smile. Her eyes are still distant but the moment he touches her cheek, they clear.

Emerald sparks and searches his feature. Her fingers curl tight around his and her smile is warmer as she inclines her head into his touch.

"One of these days, we'll have that chat you promised me."

The promise she'd made in a note she left for him during the Dawning. A vow to talk things through, mend whatever they have in - hopefully - its entirely.

"When the Witch Queen is dead." She squeezes his hand, "When we're safe."

There will be something else that rises from her ashes. Some other hellish nightmare they must endure while she tries to find a solution.

Crow knows this and yet, he gives her a smile and a nod.

"Gonna hold you to it, Old Light."

She leans in, resting her forehead against his and he can't breathe. She's - she's rarely that close. Close enough that a simple tilt of his head would allow him to do the one thing he's ached to do since the day they met.

And yet, he holds steady. He closes his eyes and enjoys her proximity - soft, warm breaths against his skin. Her Light dancing on the edge of his senses.

"Be careful out there," he manages at last; a breathless whisper against her lips.

"I'll see you soon, my Little Light." She lifts her hand, stroking her thumb over his cheek three fleeting times before she forces herself to withdraw. Before the only point of contact is firm grip on his fingers that all too quickly falters as she moves past.

Until he can no longer hear her footsteps and his palm feels oddly cold and heavy. Until he opens his eyes and he is alone save for the soft beeps echoing from the room before him.

Crow’s eyes drift to the door before him before he turns and moves toward the Psion chamber. He knows what he must do now. What the Vanguard needs to do.

This hell ends here and now.

—

It all went so wrong.

The Psion - he hadn’t meant to–

The Guardian had arrived in the aftermath. Saladin tearing the Gunslinger a new one over his actions with sparks dancing around them. The smell of death had begun to settle over steel paneling, fluids coating the floor.

It was awful.

And when all was said and done? When Saladin left and it was just the two of them?

Crow looked to his Guardian and there was no way to tell how she reacted. She stood there, steadily holding her weapon, taking in the carnage.

She never looked at him once.

He couldn’t stomach facing her - he couldn’t stand to see that hurt in her eyes again. So, he left. He planned to face Caiatl and make whatever amends he must to pay for what he’s done.

Crow never expected Saladin to offer himself up. To take the fall and leave with the Empress.

Zavala’s anger was tangible but here and now? With his Guardian a mere few feet away? The Guardian is silent and, to some degree, an unpredictable factor. She had been close to Saladin. He was her mentor, her friend, her confidant after Cayde’s passing.

And now Crow has taken Saladin from her, too.

“You’re angry with me too, aren’t you?” Crow keeps ample distance between himself and the Guardian.

Her eyes are locked on the axe leaning on the console, her fingers tracing along the pendant so slowly that it unsettles the Hunter.

“Say something.” He pleads, taking another step closer. Her head turns slightly in his direction with an abruptness that forces him to retreat again.

“These are for you,” she says at last, her hand falling away from the pendant as she steps away. He watches her cautiously - he can’t get a read on her. Usually there’s something; a twinge in her voice, a shift in her body that tells him exactly what she’s thinking but now? Now it’s impossible to decipher.

She’s standing off to the side, allowing him a path toward the items Saladin had left him but her head is still turned toward them. He thought she and Saladin didn’t get along - or perhaps it was the sort of friendship where she could get away with the pranks her Ghost described because Saladin allowed it. He knows her Young Wolf nickname stemmed from the Iron Lord - perhaps they were closer than he thought.

His feet carry him to the axe and he tentatively reaches out, fingertips grazing the cool metal. “I don’t deserve these.”

“He thinks you do.”

“Do you?” Sunset flickers to her visor.

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” She returns calmly but he can hear the resentment sparking on the edge of her voice.

“Guardian–”

She holds up a hand to silence him and his jaw clamps shut.

“Don’t do him the dishonor of refusing him this, Crow. He made a sacrifice for you. Don’t lament over it. Don’t…waste it.” Her head tilts toward the axe again, “Be the Guardian he believes you can be.”

She moves past him and his hand snaps out before he can think better of it. He grips her forearm, halting her but she does not meet his gaze.

“You used to have that kind of faith in me.”

She doesn’t answer, her head turning away a bit more so all that he can see is her hood.

“Do you really hate me that much? Have I fallen that far out of your favor?” He takes a step closer and her shoulders square.

“I need to–”

“Guardian,” he cuts in gently and her shoulders sag. Another step and his chest is inches from her pauldron. “Talk to me.”

“You won’t like what I have to say, Little Light.” She returns stiffly, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

“Is it that cruel?”

“It’s not kind.” She pulls her arm free of his grasp, “We’ll discuss this later.” She takes a step away, “For now…make it count, Crow. Saladin would want it that way.”

She’s gone a moment later.

---

A week later…

She won’t look at him.

The Young Wolf is at the war table, going over god knows what but when Crow took a place just off to her right, her head didn’t lift. Her helmet remained a steadfast veil of her emotion yet Crow can sense the tension from here.

He went to take a step toward her and she turned away, starting toward the vault on the other side of the room. Crow follows but he can read the warning - her shoulders drawn back, her chin lifted; don’t touch me is clear yet the Hunter follows.

She’s at the console and he stops beside her, “Guardian?”

Silence, yet her helmet angles toward him a fraction while she continues sifting through the vault contents.

“How long are you going to be angry with me?” He asks softly.

Her fingers still against the panel and his eyes dart from her visor to her hand. He has her attention, perhaps that’s a good thing. His weight shifts as he looks back to her visor, “I didn’t–”

“Think.” She interrupts, lifting her head to meet his gaze for the first time, “You didn’t think, Crow. You were impulsive. Careless,” she turns to face him squarely and Crow’s shoulders draw back. “Selfish. There were other ways, other options but you thought you could handle it yourself.” She steps closer and Crow’s eyes drop; they’re inches apart and it’s not like any other time she’s ever been this close.

Solar sparks against his senses, a dangerous flare of her temper manifesting far too close to him. But he doesn’t retreat. He doesn’t dare. Because if he does, she’ll withdraw and Traveler only knows when he’ll see her again.

“And Saladin paid the price,” her voice is low and holds an edge he’s never heard from her before. It sets his nerves on edge - for the first time, he feels something akin to fear of the Young Wolf. A flare of memories from the Citadel - the last time these emotions had surfaced and Crow reaches for her instinctively as he always does when the memories flare.

But this time, this time she doesn’t hold him. This time, the Young Wolf pushes him back against the wall beside the vault panel, holding him there with a forearm over his chest and panic wells in his throat.

“Guardian–” He whispers, a desperate plea as his hands hang uselessly at his side.

She must see the fear in his eyes because her arm withdraws and she retreats a step. Her head diverts immediately, “I need time, Crow. I’ll see you again when I’m ready.”

Her hand comes down hard on the button to retrieve a weapon and it transmats into her hands. She slings it up along her shoulders and turns to leave.

“I’m sorry,” Crow chokes out, stumbling half a step away from the wall, willing himself through the panic.

Her head turns toward him for a moment before she nods and vanishes in a transmat.

He can’t breathe.

Crow sinks to a crouched position against the wall, sucking in an unsteady inhalation as his head falls into his hands.

I’m sorry, please–

The Young Wolf won’t return to the H.E.L.M. for weeks and when she does, Crow wishes it were under better circumstances.

—

Taglists are open! Send an ask/leave a comment to be added!

Forevers: @halo-2 @reaped-winnower @forgotten-by-the-stars @sugarcoated44 @cayde-6 @aetosavros @niemands-bibliothek @paracausal-hunter @silverhandsamurai @orbdotexe

Crow's Guardians: @thejediassassingirl

#crow #crow destiny #the crow #the young wolf #new light #new light fic #destiny 2 #destiny #destiny the game #destiny 2 fanfiction #destiny fanfiction #destiny fic #phantom writes

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multifandommilfs · 10 months

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Masterlist

Criminal Minds

Emily Prentiss

Better than The Notebook

Alex Blake

We're All In The Mood For A Melody

Cat's Outta The Bag

Sickness and Safety

Elle Greenaway

No Case

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Law and Order SVU

Sonya Paxton

That Luscious Blonde

To Pillow the Fall

Olivia Benson

Days and Weeks

The Jürgen Theory

Amanda Rollins

Sleepless Mischief

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Grey's Anatomy

Addison Montgomery

Plan No Longer

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Atomic Blond

Lorraine Broughton

Fortuitous Encounters

Grieving Faults

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Gringo 2018

Elaine Markinson

Reunions

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Fast and Furious

Cipher

Coveted

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The Old Guard

Andromache the Scythian/Andy

Reasons We Won't Sleep

Perks of Living Forever

Our Last Hundred Years

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The Morning Show

Bradley Jackson/Laura Peterson

Since you, who am I?

#masterlist

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sugarpsalms · 6 days

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sugar's ocs, one piece edition! Do you have time to talk about Donquixote Rosaline ("uuuh, it's Roz, don't call me that") today? GREAT! basic info sheets above the cut; a more detailed discussion of how her parents got around to conceiving her below~

I could talk about Roz all day, and definitely will if someone gets me going, but the usual first thing that comes up is how did Law comfy enough with Doflamingo to get pregnant in the first place? I'll go ahead and tackle that here (while trying to be as brief as possible aksjdf)!

In the Roz-iverse, Law and Doflamingo's relationship is canon compliant up to the point of him going to prison. It diverges there, with him only spending about 2 years in lock-up before a massive riot breaks out, which he exploits (along with a few fortuitous connections inside) to escape.

His luck runs dry again there, though, as on the outside he has nothing left now; not even really anywhere to go. Cue him spending the next 10 months or so actively on the run, having just the worst time; bad turn after increasingly and debilitatingly bad turn, all which eventually lead to him going to track Law down.

In the time before this reunion (so, approximately three years) Law is going through the motions of working towards new goals but feeling...less accomplished than he'd hoped. Ever since the events at Dressrosa, a cloud of what now has been looming over him, and while he'd expected that, he also expected it to dissipate. He figured that after the dust settled and he got used to the idea of Doflamingo being (presumably) out of his life for good, he'd be reinvigorated, have this new zest for life and a drive to accomplish whatever half-baked desire popped into his brain. But that hasn't happened yet, and while he's fine (really, yes, totally fine) he's also feeling quite strange. No matter where he goes or what he does, he can't stop himself from thinking about Doffy. It's like he's sitting on this massive goose egg of unresolved something, and also (mortifyingly) a kind of guilt that he just can't place the source of.

Once he finds out that Doflamingo escaped, however, all of this gets pushed temporarily to the back burner. Assuming he's going to get wrecked in return soon, he switches to evasive maneuvers and keeps his crew on the move near constantly after the news hits. He also gets a bit obsessive over tracking sightings of Doflamingo, which he tells himself is just practical for avoiding him; but honestly, this little scavenger hunt/cat-and-mouse chase has him feeling like his life has direction again, and while of course he'd rather keep avoiding him, he finds that after a while the idea of a confrontation isn't so off-putting. He finds himself fantasizing about it, actually; maybe even hoping for it.

When they do eventually cross paths again, though, it doesn't go how Law expects. Doflamingo surprises him with his arrival, proving that Law was right about the guy tracking him down, but the reason for it wasn't what he assumed it'd be. Doflamingo isn't at all interested in a rematch. He's dead tired, beat to hell, and desperate want of a bit of cover - even just for a few weeks! He isn't picky, he'll take what he gets; and he's entirely convinced that the person he should get it from is Law. He's paid some blood back, Law got his revenge arc, so they should be good, right? This clears the board. And if the board is clear... well, actually, that means Law owes him. Doflamingo did care for him as a child, after all, and if they aren't beefing, Law is in his debt for that.

And this is. Well. Law can't entirely argue with it. They're similar in a lot of respects, but particularly in how they conceive of transactional relationships. Much as Law doesn't care for it, he can't deny that he owes Doflamingo something - at least, in this very particular sense. So, despite the tense reunion with feelings and nastiness all over the place, he does eventually agree to put Doflamingo up for a while. Partially because, as said, he feels obligated; partially because kicking Doflamingo in this weakened state would be ultimately unsatisfying; partially because he's never been entirely comfortable with harming Doflamingo with his own hands. Partially because, he can privately admit, Doflamingo is the last connection he has to Cora; partially because, he hesitates to admit even to himself, this is the most he's felt in a while and it's all a bit thrilling.

From there, things progress slowly and awkwardly, but quite naturally. True to form, Doflamingo gets his hooks in and overstays his welcome. He takes full advantage of Law's hospitality and worms his way expertly into the crew's daily life, and in doing so, forces Law to acclimate. Doflamingo is useful to have around, actually, Law admits to himself after a while; he's not opposed to pulling his own weight when directly asked, and all that extra muscle (once he's in good health) and experience with navigation and scheming is actually beneficial. Not to mention, he's a charmer. It doesn't take long for Doflamingo to make friends. He develops a good rapport with a number of Law's crew, somehow manages to claim his own room, wrangles a say in (very) minor internal matters. And Law...he knows he should put an end to it. He knows it's dragging out. He knows it's getting too comfortable. But honestly, he's getting used to it. He's letting is guard down a bit, and every time he does, he finds it easier to get along with Doflamingo than he remembers. Annoying as the man is in most cases, Law is reluctant (for reasons he refuses to look directly into they eyes of) to make him go.

After a few years of this - Doflamingo on and off the ship at this point, because he does get back on his feet and get cabin fever and want to go off on his own now and then - their relationship has improved enough for them to start. Hm. Getting cozy. Law doesn't plan on it happening at all, but he likes the push and pull they have going; he likes how he can be mean and catty and nip and Doffy and get a little bite back. He likes that he has someone around who reads the same weird books he does, and who negates his worry about being the most off-putting bitch in the room. He also likes having someone around he can talk to about Cora, though that takes some work. Early experiments with that go...badly.

Overall, once Law gets used to the set up and allows himself to think of Doflamingo as himself, without the burden of The Everything Else, he finds him...not that bad. Actually, he kind of enjoys him. Enough to get drunk with and catfight their way into bed, at least.

It's not a relationship; Law insists on that, as does Doflamingo. They see other people, particularly when Doffy's away, but they enjoy each other's company when they're in the same place. So much so, in fact, that Law gets comfortable enough to forget to be careful now and then. Which is, um, incidentally how little Rosaline gets conceived.

#sugar scribbles #sugar's ocs #one piece #one piece original character #never hesitate to talk to me about her. unless you fear info dumping

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yuorumi · 2 years

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━ "welcome home"

includes: kaedehara kazuha x gn! reader

note: hello! I was your secret santa @serenity-ren-bliss ! I hope you like it! I'm so sorry this is late 😭💙

merry christmas! ☃️

He had been a member of the Crux for a considerable amount of time; they had treated him like family when he joined the group and cared for him. When his stay on the ship proved to be longer than he had anticipated, it was a delightful surprise. Why does his heart crave for more when he values this acceptance and appreciates all the crew members? It wasn't something as trivial as materialistic avarice, but rather something more significant, grander, and indescribable.

And for once, the samurai was left stumped.

If he had to ask himself why he was feeling this way, he would have been able to trace the origin of the feeling to the instant he set foot on Liyue's shores. The Crux was entrusted with transporting the travelers home to their country so they could reconnect with their families when the vision hunt degree had been formally deemed to be over.

Each person was running across the docks, choking back tears as they spotted the people they cherished just meters away after being parted for such a long time. He could see them all. Each one is in momentary shock, wondering whether what they are seeing is just a delusion or a dream as their bodies quake, the tension on their shoulders eases, and their hands try to reach out. Time seemed to have halted, as if a divine being were observing them from above and delaying this sorrowful reunion to take in the emotions captured in this image. Everything didn't appear to move again until God forced it to. The news that a relative of their family or a close friend had perished in the battle prompted some individuals to grieve, while others take a moment to breathe in the comforting air of the familiar surroundings.

Instead of soothing him down, the sight simply made him feel more tense. His fists curled into a tight fist as he felt disgust well up inside of him. The sensation he was experiencing is similar to the black, dense sludge that lurks in the Chasm; it would spread until he had a fluorescent light to lull the spawn beneath the surface cracks until it is time for it to be purified once more. He had never experienced anything like this before, not even when his clan was about to collapse. It was an unpleasant sensation he hopes he never has to go through again.

Why is it that he feels this way towards such a happy occasion?

It took him hours of pondering to finally have his question answered. The solution lies within the yearning for a real family.

The Crux may have acknowledged him as part of their crew, but even the people on this crowded ship cannot fulfill the role he was looking for.

Kazuha would never define himself as greedy, but in this particular moment, all he wanted was to be welcomed into the arms of someone who was eagerly expecting his return while he was at sea — speaking the words that had long been withheld from him. A rather foolish wish. He was the last son of the Kaedehara clan, his family no longer, and the people on the fleet sailed with him on the ocean, so there was no one to welcome him home unless he left to wander the lands again, which he has no current intention of doing so.

It was a troublesome conundrum.

However, it wasn't completely impossible. Perhaps it was fate or a fortuitous stroke of luck that, not long after he had begun to comprehend his thoughts, he would run into you, the one person who could grant all his wishes.

“Oh! I'm truly sorry! I missed seeing you there. " You sincerely apologize as you bow before him.

"I too should apologize, I was too lost in thought to notice that I was about to bump into you," Kazuha said, shaking his head and putting a modest palm to his chest as he also bowed and expressed regret for his carelessness, "I hope you aren't wounded," he says politely, his eyes closed, offering a polite smile.

"No, I'm fine, are you - " you gasp in horror as you notice that his top has been entirely damaged by the black-back perch stew you were carrying. You were lucky to only get a few droplets on you; the gentleman before you was not so lucky. "Oh please - let me wash your top for you! It's the least I can do for causing you this much trouble! " You plead, watching as you see him dust off the remnants of the dish on his clothes.

“Oh no, it's okay; I've been meaning to wash it for a while but haven't had much of a chance to do so.” He gave a soft chuckle while maintaining his smile, his eyes twisting with mirth as he watched you in a state of pure terror, entirely ignoring the bowl of stew you had previously ordered for yourself in favor of gauging the extent of the damage to his top.

You give him a piece of cloth you have on hand and aggressively shake your head while arguing, "I insist, please." Perhaps it was the way your eyes look obstinate and insistent on helping him, or perhaps it was the way your scent seems so... hearty and warm that he finds it in himself unable to resist.

“Very well. In exchange, please let me treat you to any dish you’d like at Wanmin restaurant. It's the least I can do to compensate for the destroyed black-back perch stew.”

This was just the first of many interactions you two would have in the future.

The sun had long since set and the moon shone brightly in the sky as Kazuha crossed the bridge above the pond to the left of Liyue. The mild breeze was gently tussling Kazuha's hair as he traveled across the bridge when he encountered another figure at its very center. And for a while the only activity for a while was the fishes pushing their bodies against the chilly water.

You were leaning against the stone fence, the moon above you illuminating every feature of your physique and giving you a heavenly shine that Kazuha was unable to adequately explain because what he was witnessing was indescribable in terms of mortal language. The distance between your two bodies disappears as he moves forward several steps at a time, his arms encircling your body in an embrace that you joyfully return.

His arms remain in place as you turn to face him. You softly grasp his face as you draw closer to him and plant a tender kiss on his lips. "Welcome home, Kazuha," you say while flashing him a smile reminiscent of the sun that had long since set. He reciprocated by flashing you a smile of his own. Those words never fail to show him the unwavering love that he feels so undeserving of.

"I'm home," he said, closing his eyes, reclining against your body, and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His chest felt warm and soft in contrast to the frigid air. He never thought that he could receive a gift of a family again.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #gender neutral reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #kazuha x reader #kaedehara x reader #gixrsecretsanta2022 #twilighttheatre #(🌙 works)

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the-dog-watch · 1 year

Text

The Nutmeg of Consolation

I was talking on twitter how I have an nonspecific affection for all the boats in this series, so I suppose I was destined to love this one regardless. This book is both sweet and nutty to me, just like the ship of its namesake. It’s sentimental, but its sentimentality is shot through with a tinge of unease; enjoy these good times while they last, it seems to be saying (I have learned to always do this, in these books.) There's a sense of foreboding or oncoming disaster—which isn't new; both The Ionian Mission and Treason’s Harbour were suffused with dread—but it’s also planting the seeds of upcoming discord, both among the crew and between Jack and Stephen themselves, which is somewhat novel.

Jo Walton said in her review this book lacked a clear shape and could have been split up and added to books before and after it but I very much disagree. Joy is the keynote of this book; unconstrained, pure joy is a part of this book in a way that is not present in either the preceding or succeeding novels, a joy that's made more vivid by its contrast with some very dark moments--an island in Melanesia that has been decimated by smallpox but for two small children, or the Botany Bay penal colony where we catch up with poor Padeen.

The strength of this book is Stephen’s character arc. It forces him to step up and take responsibility, for those two little girls I mentioned, and for Padeen, and these sort of messy demands for emotional attachment and connection are something that a Stephen from earlier in the series might have shied away from, especially when he’s under stress. He’s worried about Diana, he’s worried about their baby, he’s worried about his financial situation. It’s hard not to feel a little proud of him for how he handles everything (no laudanum this time!) and of course it’s impossible not to feel extremely happy for him when he finally learns that he has a daughter.

“Why, Doctor,” [Tom] said, his face brightening, “how happy I am to see you back. You look as gay as a popinjay, as cheerful as if you had found a five pound note. I hope you brought the poor old barky some good luck at last. God love us, what a week!”

Perfect Girlfriend Tom Pullings reacting to Stephen’s face after he gets the news, confirming what I have always known about Stephen: that he is cute, despite his constant insistence that he’s the ugliest girl in school.

We start on the beach with the erstwhile Dianes (RIP Diane!!!) shipwrecked in the South China Sea. After a rough start and a pirate attack, they are rescued and their fortunes turn around when the governor of Batavia gives them a new ship, The Nutmeg of Consolation. What a name! She is my new best friend in all the world.

It'd be hard to dislike this book, even if I wanted to. Joy is its keynote, as I said, starting with the fortuitous reunion early on with Surprise and culminating with Stephen finally receiving the word that his daughter has been born back at Ashgrove Cottage. Between this and the reunion with Padeen in the hospital in Botany Bay, the climax of this book sees Stephen at maybe the most emotional we've ever seen him, and the highest pitch of his spirits coincides with a nearly fatal rupture with Jack.

Their disagreement is over Padeen, whose imprisonment in the penal colony Stephen feels responsible for, for the reason that he kind of is. He feels guilty enough about it that he almost doesn't want to see Padeen at all, just wants to arrange Padeen to have a less abusive work environment from afar, but of course after a very touching reunion with a flogged and emaciated Padeen, he promises to help Padeen escape and is then shocked when he learns that Jack has no intention of allowing any convict, even Padeen, to escape on the Surprise. After wrestling with himself all night (and remembering, "Hey, I became insanely wealthy five books ago,") Stephen resolves to leave the ship rather than abandon Padeen, as he sees no use in reasoning with Jack.

"Middle-age has come upon Jack Aubrey at last, the creature. I never thought it would."

MEOW. God both Stephen and Jack so bad at being mean to each other, even at their most pissed off.

The break-up is narrowly avoided same as it always is: by some absolutely goof-ass near-fatal cataclysm that befalls Stephen, rendering him utterly adorable and winning him his point assuming he doesn’t succumb to his injuries, which of course he doesn’t. This time the cataclysm is a platypus sting, last time it was nearly OD'ing on opium and falling off a tower, and the time before that it was falling out the stern window into the fucking ocean. Stephen is near-death but he wins the argument with Jack in absentia; Padeen carries him back to Surprise, Jack is in no state to object, and the other Surprises naturally don't even think it's a question; of course Padeen is coming with them.

Is this cheap? Am I sick of conflict being obviated each time by Stephen nearly dying? Honestly...your Honor, his bisexual airs and swagless haplessness have bewitched me body and soul. He can fall off as many towers and get poisoned by as many monotremes as he wants as long as it keeps being so fucking funny, and as long as it keeps reminding Jack not to be an asshole and to remember the power of friendship and camaraderie and all that gay shit. Usually when Stephen and Jack are fighting about whatever I don't feel compelled to take sides but in this case it's Padeen all the way, baby. I don't fuck around, Jack can eat it.

My advice to Jack: maybe fix your liver, balance your humors, get fat and happy again?? Maybe experience the redemptive power of love and you'll calm down??? Spoilers: that is basically what happens (the book ends with him and Stephen literally holding hands) but he's still smarting from the disagreement at the beginning of the next book, with my new NEW best friend Clarissa Oakes, who for once is an actual woman and not a boat like I assumed she would be when I first saw the title of the book in the UK. I don't hold her not being a boat against her, though, and neither should you. See you next time!

Personal Ranking

The Far Side of the World (10) > HMS Surprise (3) > Desolation Island (5) > The Nutmeg of Consolation (14) > The Reverse of the Medal (11) > The Ionian Mission (8) > The Fortune of War (6) > Master & Commander (1) > The Surgeon’s Mate (7) > Treason's Harbour (9) > The Letter of Marque (12) > The Thirteen-Gun Salute (13) > Post Captain (2) > The Mauritius Command (4)

#the nutmeg of consolation #stephen maturin #jack aubrey #aubreyad #recap post

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balanceoflightanddark · 1 month

Text

The Monsters We Create Chapter 19

Azula emerges from the Temple and makes an unthinkable decision. Meanwhile, Zuko has a less fortuitous reunion with someone he thought he knew. All the while, the King of the Monsters is on the move...

The King Cometh Arc (Godzilla)

Up From the Depths

Relics from a Lost World

More Than Just a Legend

God of Destruction

Upon the Ruins

Dragon Slayers

Wrath

Awakening Mountains Arc (Godzilla, Anguirus, General Old Iron, Rodan)

8. Omens of Disaster

9. Farewells and Greetings

10. Of Spirits and Monsters

11. The Guardian Beast

12. Into the Nest

13. Clash of the Titans (Anguirus vs General Old Iron)

14. Let Them Fight (Godzilla vs Rodan)

Graveyard of Empires Arc (Godzilla, Mothra, Battra, ?????)

15: Old Wounds

16. Embers in the Wind

17. Infant Island

18. Mothra

19. When All You Have is a Dream

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raytm · 3 months

Note

❝ Akivili ! ❞ Universe's Laughter comes bounding up to their Trailblazing friend. A title bestowed upon fellow Aeon whether or not Akivili agreed with them. What matters to Aha is that they like the other Aeon, think that they're entertaining and their ambitious drive for adventure can make for an enjoyable experience. Not only that but Akivili is incredibly thoughtful ! Oh, how nice !

Discerning whether or not they themselves are likable matters little for they do as they please. Boredom not allowed to seep into their playpen and seeking to shake up something for a good laugh. Though, they have readily permitted tears to fall, as it is a natural part of the ebb and flow in the universe. Where there is tragedy, there is room for joy. Joy can also be struck down by mood swings. Tugging back and forth is ultimately amusing to watch. It is as simple as that to the Aeon.

Gloved hands pat at shoulders — once, twice, three times. Hard shell of a mask hides what true amusement might lie beneath, but the curved carving of a mouth seems to be accurate enough. ❝ I've been looking everywhere for you ! It's almost like you've been avoiding me... Ah, but that's okay. I've found you now ! I have a very important question for you. ❞ Hands smooth off Akivili's body as Aha cants their head. ❝ Can the Astral Express swim ? You know, like in water ? ❞ - @smusmaes ( aha )

For those whose journeys were everlasting who is to say which paths may intersect & which may never so much as brush one another. As if they were the coruscating stars illuminating the uncharted cosmos of planets never before seen, each connection left an impression upon the aeon, etched onto them as bright & memorable as each individual star. The Elation is not so different, ripples of a kaleidoscope of colors surging to coalesce as imminent laughter, with each place they touched the echo of joy rang high & strident. Some faces did become weathered by time, until the memories felt like tones of sepia & the voices waning into incomprehensible white noise. Aha was not one to be gradually forgotten, their presence as calamorous & smothering as their chiming voice in their ear. “ You found me.” Akivili says and their tone possesses no aversion, old friends often met upon the Trailblaze, it was an unavoidable reunion no matter the circumstance. Their buoyant step & encircling makes them more akin to a delighted comrade than an omnipotent portent of all of joy’s finest moments & most unbearable ones. Things were never boring upon that endless voyage, partially because Akivili never cared for stagnant tedium & also because eventually there would always be those like Aha who became entirely unforgettable in the aeon’s heart. “ I’ll have to endeavor to make it harder next time, I cannot imagine you find joy in anything that is too easy to obtain.” As if their fortuitous meetings were somewhat of a game, neither should end up bored as long as the other played their delegated role. Gilded eyes adhere to the other as they pat their shoulders, thousands of minute stars flickering in their gaze, it was more difficult to not wear a smile when the infectious traces of joy pressed down upon them with such intensity. Slowly, they cant their head, masked visage appraising their friend with no shortage of anticipation. “ Swim ?” Akivili echos the thought, ruminating upon it, for all the outlandish things the other could ask was this not a stroke of brilliance. They would have taken off their hat & bowed to the other for it was both preposterous an idea & something that could usher in a new possibility for the express, how could they be anything less than elated. In return, Akivili tilts their head, their conductor’s hat almost toppling from atop starry tresses. “ I can’t say that it does, shall I pick your brain, tell me about this express that can traverse even the vastness of the sea.”

#water train you say chin hands.#tell me more #✩࿐ 𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒊. ﹙ ͥ ͨ ﹚#smusmaes

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diamondangelkitten · 4 months

Text

WolStinien Week Day 6: Reunion

"Estinien? Stinien!"

While she knew her partner was returning sometime today, she didn't expect such fortuitous timing. The look on his face when he heard her call his name made her heart melt.

"Linea!"

He caught her perfectly as she jumped into his arms. She pressed her head to his, holding onto him just a little bit tighter.

"I missed you," she says to him.

He smirks a little, before angling their faces so he can give her a kiss.

"I missed you too."

#ffxiv #alinea skylark #estinien varlineau #wolstinien week #wolstinien

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themculibrary · 10 months

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Mistletoe Fics Masterlist

Architecture (ao3) - sineala steve/tony G, 1k

Summary: Tony decorates Avengers Tower for the new team’s first Christmas, and Steve’s standing in a very fortuitous place.

A Very Naughty Christmas Gift (ao3) - EmptyIceCreamContainer wanda/vision E, 1k

Summary: Wanda and Vision celebrate their first Christmas post-reunion with a sexy twist on the kiss-under-the-mistletoe tradition.

Beneath the Mistletoe (ao3) - sunrow steve/bucky E, 21k

Summary: Bucky had a bet with his sister that if he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas by the time he was 25, he had to give her $200 and go blonde for a year. But now he’s 25, it’s nearing December, and not only is Bucky as single as ever, but he’s also running low on cash. He doesn’t exactly want to bleach his hair, either.

At least Steve is willing to upgrade their relationship from best friends to fake boyfriends.

Cat + Mistletoe = Disaster (ao3) - Laevateinn steve/bucky G, 714

Summary: Steve and Bucky had only been Alpine’s parents for a few weeks, but she was already giving them grey hair.

christmas preparations (ao3) - vannral clint/pietro T, 878

Summary: Pietro visits the Barton farm for Christmas. There's also a mistletoe and a Rudolph the Reindeer that looks like a demon.

Getaway Car (ao3) - squadrickchestopher bucky/clint G, 4k

Summary: The guy regains his balance and starts running again. He slips one more time, slides a little more, and then suddenly he’s right next to the car, fumbling at the handle of the passenger side door. A blast of cold wind comes as he yanks it open, practically falling into the seat in a swirl of snowflakes.

“Go, go!” he yells, and Clint goes. He doesn’t even question it, just slams the car into drive and shoots out into the street, skidding a little on the ice.

hang all the mistletoe (i’m gonna get to know you better) (ao3) - michaelfalls G, 1k

Summary: thor is kind of wondering why in the world is peter quill standing under some mistletoe.

if you kissed me now, i know you'd fool me again (ao3) - stellarshine shuri/riri M, 5k

Summary: Riri has been trying to deny her crush on the princess for a long time, but imaginary scenarios are already flooding her mind. Introducing Shuri to her mom, holding Shuri’s hand, kissing Shuri under the mistletoe… This is the closest Riri is ever going to get to actually dating her.

She may as well take the chance.

Kissing Under the Mistletoe (and Other Christmassy Activities) (ao3) - Selenay clint/phil T, 13k

Summary: "How hard could it be to pretend for a few days?" Clint continued. "All those kids around, we'd be able to keep it strictly PG and your sister would never have to know. It'll be great."

Phil stared. "You're actually volunteering to spend Christmas pretending to be-"

"Your boyfriend." Clint nodded. "I've had worse assignments."

"Fine." Phil pulled up a website and began hunting for flights. "Remember, you volunteered for this."

Midgardian Traditions (ao3) - STARSdidathing loki/tony T, 1k

Summary: When visiting Thor on Midgard, Loki and Anthony find themselves beneath a very specific kind of Midgardian greenery.

Mistletoe Kisses (ao3) - Dresupi darcy/pietro M, 3k

Summary: Pietro falls for a masked beauty at a mistletoe masquerade whose only defining quality is a notable (and applicable) wrist tattoo and a pink mask.

Darcy meets "Mr. Tall, Dark and Accented", but fails to leave her number with him before leaving the party.

It's love at first...sight? Kind of? With plenty of mutual pining and a hot and spicy reunion at the end.

Mistletoe Magic (ao3) - RoseAmaranth tony/stephen G, 8k

Summary: Two words: Mistletoe Spell

(Or Stephen uses a mistletoe spell and Tony doesn't mind)

Mistletoe Miscues (ao3) - rmh8402 loki/tony G, 3k

Summary: Loki is trying to use mistletoe to his advantage, and failing. Also, Tony is too busy trying to find the perfect gift to see what's right in front of his face.

Mistletoe, Reindeer and Ugly Sweaters (ao3) - Arvari loki/tony T, 4k

Summary: Maybe the Christmas was Clint’s idea. Or Bruce’s. They seemed to be the most likely candidates. Or maybe Cap. Probably not Natasha and definitely not Thor and Loki. The only thing Tony knew for sure was that one day, a branch of mistletoe appeared in the common area, on the ceiling near the kitchen door – aka the place where everyone had to pass underneath it to get a cup of fresh coffee. Well, everyone except Tony, who had his own private coffeemaker in his workshop and his apartment. Although it was, of course, Tony, who was the first to get caught beneath the mistletoe – and with none other than their resident God of Mischief.

Of Christmas Gifts and Mistletoe (ao3) - SpaceShark wanda/steve T, 931

Summary: One shot holiday ficlet. Wanda and Steve find themselves under some mistletoe, courtesy of Clint Barton.

The Holiday Celebration (ao3) - scottxlogan bucky/tony G, 5k

Summary: Bucky is surprised to receive an invitation to Tony's yearly weeklong holiday celebration up north with the rest of the Avengers. Upon arrival, Bucky soon learns that the trip is full of fun festivities and activities where the team shows off their skills and enjoys the season. Still feeling like an outsider Bucky tries his best to fit in, but worries that he's making a bad impression on their host until Bucky suddenly discovers that maybe his perception of Tony has been slightly off in what Tony thinks about him :)

The Magic of Mistletoe (ao3) - TheDisneyOutsider happy/may, pepper/tony G, 1k

Summary: “Hey, May, Happy, you guys are standing under the mistletoe, you know what that means, right?” Tony wriggled his eyebrows and pointed to the plant hanging over their heads.

“Ew, Tony that’s gross,” Peter grimaced, but he watched Happy and May both blush, staring at each other awkwardly.

The Mistletoe Protocol (ao3) - Blizzard_Fire bruce/steve, bucky/clint T, 2k

Summary: ‘Oh no,’ says Natasha as Clint walks in one morning with bags of dollar store mistletoe. ‘Oh yes,’ says Clint. ‘JARVIS, how would you like to help me with a little team-building project?’

Clint booby-traps the tower with mistletoe. Poor Bruce has been kissed by nearly everyone… except Steve.

there'll be much mistletoeing... (ao3) - buckybuck (thestarsthesea) bucky/clint T, 1k

Summary: Tony's kind of a shithead.

Well, 'kind of' is honestly an understatement, but, well. It's rude to insult a guy who regularly gives you awesome weapons, and also lets you stay in his house sometimes, completely free of charge.

Well, stay in his tower. Whatever.

Under the Mistletoe (ao3) - SonnyD sam/bucky G, 495

Summary: Bucky is a little grumpy about a Christmas party but a little decoration could cheer things up.

#themculibrary #masterlists #marvel #mcu #christmas #mistletoe #mistletoe masterlist

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queerinfilm · 2 years

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Rachael MacAdams’ Queer Role:

🎥 Disobedience (2017)

New York photographer Ronit Krushka flies to London after learning about the death of her estranged father. Ronit is returning to the same Orthodox Jewish community that shunned her decades earlier for her childhood attraction to Esti, a female friend. Their fortuitous and happy reunion soon reignites their burning passion as the two women explore boundaries of faith and sexuality.

#rachel macadams #multiverse of madness #movie #lesbian #lgbtq+#queer #film #the time traveler's wife

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ao3feed-mash · 2 years

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Three Years and Three Hours

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/jqt5E2h

by allacesandeights

Trapper and Hawkeye are fortuitously reunited and get a bit of the catharsis that they (and I) needed after Trapper's abrupt departure from the 4077th.

A short post-canon fix-it wherein Trapper discovers Hawkeye is alive and Hawkeye discovers he wasn't left behind.

Words: 4537, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: MASH (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: "Trapper" John McIntyre, Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce

Relationships: "Trapper" John McIntyre/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce

Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Post-War, Fix-It, well i consider it a fix it, Post-Canon Fix-It, post-war reunion, Trapper goes to Maine, Hawkeye is not a morning person, Mentions Of Mental Health Struggles, implied PTSD, Unreliable Narrator, era-typical mental health attitudes, Mentions of Canonical Character Death, MASH 50th anniversary!, it's a bit of fluff, why not, with a bit of crying thrown in, Angst with a Happy Ending, mentions of other members of the 4077th, but they're not present, POV Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce, bc I don't think contractual issues should’ve resulted in Trapper John character assassination

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/jqt5E2h

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #M*A*S*H #mash #mash fandom

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dawn-of-worlds · 1 year

Text

Various Absences

In which the Lunar Bridge is made permanent and a strange bureaucratic process forms in the courts of the Moon.

False-Fires infiltrate the Págar Star-Counters, creating the mysterious Society of the Flickering Stars.

The cities of the Occident grow supernaturally tall and proud.

And a refugee founds Gingat, the only honest city in the world.

Corobel starts turn 16 (I know, I know) with 14 points: 8 (roll) + 3 (nonhoarding) + 3 (left over)

Event (-9): The sages of Ecliptic have long (by the standards of that young society) sought to reopen a permanent connection between the two worlds. Azimuth, too, desires reunion with its lost children.

It is the Págar Moon-Watchers who first suggest a system for sending signals between the two worlds; on one fortuitous eclipse, they float through the red wound with a code, a map, and some of their finest telescopes. The project will require the connivance of both ends of the equation; knowledge is shared, efforts coordinated. Eventually, a solution is found, though none now remember it. It involves an expedition to the lake-bottom, conducted by Night-Singers, and another to the core of the Moon. They do not learn the secret, but they get quite close, close enough that the self-sealing

For one awful moment, the world is clear glass; they see the Tree for what it really is; they see the present from the outside, and cannot find it. Their minds blank and revolt, and their eyes are struck the pure black of the moon in eclipse.

The bridge-pieces are forced into a permanent alignment, eclipses being no longer required; the contents of the lakes no longer switch places; but all who immerse themselves in a certain part of the lake find themselves transported.

Relics of the experiment (lenses, scalpels, mirrors, lamps) resist being understood or remembered, and may (or may not) have certain other supernatural properties, which are (necessarily) rather nebulous.

Command Avatar (-1): Meanwhile, as the gracile bureaucracy of the Court of the Two skies swells with the tithes of the algal fields, the Coryphaeus makes it known that the Moon needs something. A system is established; applicants are received, vetted, reviewed, processed. The pale-vaulted chambers throng. Something is taken from them, though nobody can say quite what. No change can be discerned, but payment is received, in the eerie jewels of the Moon’s heart.

Command Avatar to Create Order (-1): Some Págar Star-Counters are taken in by False-Fires, creating the Society of the Flickering Stars.

Command Avatar to Command Civilization(-1): The cities of the Occident begin a campaign of monumental architecture, enhanced by magical techniques. Towers and ziggurats, sponsored by the great clans and religious associations, reach impossible heights.

Command Avatar to Found City (-1): There was a city in the Occident which was governed unsurpassedly well, whose streets were clean and friendly, whose councillors, in clean pressed linen robes, ruled a peaceful and a quiet people. Its constitution was engraved in white travertine for all to read, and the laws it gave were respected universally. Travellers came to see them from the very vertices of the earth. In that fine republic, all knew their place, and all knew their place was just.

I will not name that city. I will not elaborate the laws that structured the perfection of its life. They are no longer important. You know why. What else could happen to such a place?

There was one survivor. As he shuffled away from the ashes, tasting salt, the old city fell from his sandals and his mind, and a secret coagulated in the locket around his neck—or did he carry it from the ruins? No matter.

He would make a new city, and he would do it right. It would be the only honest city in the world.

Whosoever could kill him in open combat would become the king, and pluck the terrible secret from the phylactery of his neck, and open it, and not reveal it, and be killed in turn.

Across the sea, in the lands where the seasons change, he founded Gingat, the Honest City.

1 point remains.

#world 02547 diegesis #going hack mode

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mortwig · 2 years

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He compartido 2325 publicaciones este 2022

¡Son 1776 más que en 2021!

36 publicaciones originales (2 %)

2289 reblogueos (98 %)

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@sincericida

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He etiquetado 764 publicaciones en 2022

#dracula daily: 217 publicaciones

#✌️: 202 publicaciones

#eurovision: 43 publicaciones

#andrew garfield: 34 publicaciones

#tick tick boom: 19 publicaciones

#nwh: 19 publicaciones

#nwh spoilers: 16 publicaciones

#peter parker x reader: 12 publicaciones

#esc 2022: 11 publicaciones

#pride and prejudice: 11 publicaciones

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#also given my trend of falling in love with older men i feel like i'm closer to finding someone who i like who's acceptably old for me

Mis publicaciones más populares este 2022:

masterlist

Hi everyone!

I started writing fanfiction a few months ago. I generally post on AO3 first, but I've decided to post my works here as well. Here's what I have so far:

Spider-man fics (based on TASM!Peter Parker but flexible):

SFW

Four drinks I'm wasted: 600, ex dynamics, angsty short blurb.

NSFW 18+

Cracked Glass: 5,6k, strangers to lovers, fluff, smut

Night Monkey: 7,1k, enemies to lovers, slow-burn, smut

A Fortuitous Reunion: 6,4k, ex dynamics, porn without plot, 100% smut

Flowers In Your Hair: 4,8k, flower shop + sex pollen + professional rivals, entry to Wicked’s “Kink or Treat”

Any and all feedback welcome!

40 notas. Fecha de publicación: 27 de abril de 2022

Cracked Glass

18+ EXPLICIT [minors DNI] - Peter Parker/Spider-man fanfic

Words: 5,6k

Pairing: fem!reader x Peter Parker (based on TASM!Peter but flexible)

Summary: Set after the events of "Spider-man: No Way Home". Reader meets Spider-man under awkward circumstances and they end up spending some time together.

Tags: 18+ explicit, smut, nudity, fluff, minor violence, dark humour, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, vaginal sex, mild praise kink, some swearing, minor mentions of past trauma, reader is kinda goofy, all characters are 18+, numerous Tick Tick Boom! references.

Song inspo: Green Green Dress

[I'm more updated on AO3 than I am here. Check my profile out here. I posted the link to this some time ago, so sorry if you've already come across it!]

Your mouth drops open.

“What the f…“

You’re walking backwards as you speak, trying to put some distance between you and whatever is going on in the dark alley.

You suddenly trip over a bulk, barely hidden between two rubbish bins.

You look down briefly to make sure it’s not a dead body. No, just a backpack. Probably drugs.

You look back up and reassess the situation. So there’s a giant ring of sparks in front of you, in a dirty, creepy New York alley in the middle of the night. And you’re pretty sure it’s a portal because what you see on the other side looks like a river.

And suddenly a figure appears out of nowhere in a flash, crosses the portal running and before you know what is happening, they have body slammed you and you've collapsed the ground. And the person is awkwardly on top of you. It takes you several seconds to react, and then you start screaming and moving your limbs. It feels a bit like a dream, where you want to escape but your body feels heavy and doesn’t move. Except this time it’s not a dream, just some weirdo in spandex crushing you.

They start screaming as well, struggling with their own limbs and finally rolling away on the ground. The light from the main road finally illuminates what turns out to be none other than Spider-man. You assume it’s the real one and not just a cosplayer from the fact he just appeared literally from thin air.

Your mind is quickly getting to all the logical conclusions and calming down, but your body works at a different pace and you realise you’re still screaming and your arms and legs are still flailing around uselessly.

“Oh my god I am so sorry, are you okay?”

“You’re Spider-man!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He’s looking around now. “What time is it? Hold on. What day is it?”

“Um.” You check the old watch on your wrist. “2.45, I guess the 11th of February now”.

“How much time does multiverse travel take? Does it take longer to different realities?” he’s muttering to himself now, you’re barely catching any of it.

You probably should leave him, but you can’t stop yourself from staring. A real superhero. Right in front of you. No one back home would believe you.

Regardless, you try to give him a moment and focus your attention in gathering yourself together. You get up, accidentally stepping on the drug backpack. You’re surprised to hear a bit of a crunch. Drugs are big and solid and... metallic?

You pull it up to inspect whether it’s a murder weapon, taken from a crime scene maybe. Your mind wanders, you could join the FBI, does the FBI get to meet superheroes often?

You pull a vintage camera out of the backpack, the lens cracked. “Oops” turning it around you read the handwritten sticker on it with its owner’s name. “I’m sorry Peter Parker...”.

“What for?” a voice interjects.

You’re still talking to yourself “...unless you’re a serial killer and this is to take pictures of your prizes”.

Your brain takes a few seconds to process what just happened. You look up, the eyes on Spider-man’s mask seem to occupy all of his face. He’s absolutely frozen, and so are you.

“You’re a drug dealing serial killer?”

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41 notas. Fecha de publicación: 27 de abril de 2022

Flowers In Your Hair

Entry for the amazing’s @wicked-remarks ‘ “Kink or Treat”!

18+ EXPLICIT [minors DNI] - Peter Parker/Spider-man fanfic

Words: 4,8k

Pairing: fem!OC* x Peter Parker (based on TASM!Peter but flexible)

Summary: Flower Shop + Sex Pollen + (kind of) Professional Rivals

Tags: 18+ explicit, mostly strangers to lovers, smut, nudity, vaginal sex, mild praise kink, oral sex (both F and M receiving), no bed in sight, some fluff, all characters are 18+.

Song inspo: Flowers in Your Hair by The Lumineers

*[I say OC because it’s written in the third person, but can be read as reader because she uses a codename the whole time and her physical appearance is barely described]

The bell over the door rang for the third time that day, and Peter barely had the energy to look up. It was probably someone “just looking” or a tourist hoping to take some aesthetic shots for their travel log. Slow days like this made him want to close the shop and swing himself far far away from here.

He had been trying for a good hour to focus on the physics problem due for tomorrow evening’s class. Frustrated from the lack of inspiration, he finally looked up to see a young woman admiring the carnations displayed near the door.

“Good morning!” Peter said in his best customer service voice, stifling a yawn. “If you need anything let me know.”

“I will, thank you.” The woman shot him a smile that barely reached her eyes. She seemed focused... Too focused for a simple visit to the flower shop, Peter noticed.

Peter’s tingle rang loudly at the back of his mind, pulling him off his stool. He cleared his throat and casually made his way to the woman.

“They are just beautiful, aren’t they? Those yellow ones arrived only this morning.”

She hummed an approval and took a step away from him, now seemingly inspecting the coloured roses.

“Disappointment.” Peter intended for his tone to be playfully stern, but it turned out harsher than expected. This caused the woman to turn, a mixture of surprise and mild panic taking over her features for a split second, before settling into a controlled expression of confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Disappointment, rejection. That’s what yellow carnations mean.” Peter smirked, leaning forward as if confiding. “But don’t tell anyone, I don’t think many people buy flowers to express disdain anymore.”

She laughed and took another step away, her hand now on the door handle. The sound of her laugh warmed Peter’s chest, and for a second he forgot he was suspecting her of… of what exactly? Of acting shady in a flower shop?

Come on Peter, get a grip, you’re just sleep deprived from the night patrols. He thought to himself.

“Let’s not give them any ideas.” And with another ring of the bell, she was gone.

Peter stood there for a few moments, taking one last look at the yellow carnations before closing the shop for the day.

It was around 1 am when Peter woke up in a cold sweat. Another nightmare. He got up to get some water. He tried to remember what the dream had been about. It was about work. Conventional work. Flower shop. But also, Spider-man? Carnations. Yellow carnations. The woman looking at the yellow carnations. What was she wearing? Wide-brimmed hat. Red wide-brimmed hat. Like that night about a year ago at the docks. Red wide-brimmed hat amongst diamond smugglers…

Peter’s hand let go of the glass of water he was holding as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place in his brain.

By the time the glass shattered on the floor, he already had half his suit on and was headed towards the window.

It wasn’t often that criminals walked in through the door of the local superhero’s side job, Peter thought to himself. He hoped he wasn’t too late as he dropped down to the ground a few buildings away. Approaching by foot, he didn’t see anyone inside, nor anywhere around him.

In the shop, everything seemed to be in order. He approached the carnations. He thought about the new provider who had brought them. Mrs Hernandez had said they had shown a lot of interest in getting the flowers in the shop as soon as possible. This was nothing new, one would think, in the flower industry. But even Mrs Hernandez, with 50 years in the business, thought their approach was odd. “Muy raros, Peter. But the claveles are beautiful, ¿no?” she’d said.

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52 notas. Fecha de publicación: 26 de octubre de 2022

Four drinks I'm wasted

Peter Parker/Spider-man blurb

Words: 670

Pairing: gn!reader x Peter Parker (based on TASM!Peter but flexible)

Summary: Reader's thing with Peter didn't end on a good note, but they still miss him. So they try to drown the loneliness in alcohol.

Tags: angsty, a bit fluffy maybe, ex dynamics, alcohol consumption, drunk characters.

Song inspo: Talia by King Princess

[Check my AO3 profile out here.]

Peter Parker ghosted you for the last time 6 weeks ago, give or take a few days.

You were embarrassed at how much it had affected you, ending things with him. It’s not like you had been together (if you could even call it that) for that long. Nor had he treated you that well. But he was sweet, and thoughtful, and hot.

He just kept leaving you stranded, with no explanation, no apology text, nothing. And you didn’t want to get hurt.

Six weeks without hearing from him. You had done so well, not drunk texting him even once, given your record.

But today is not a good day. The week is going terribly at work. You haven’t been able to call your mum, because she’s on holiday. And you dropped your coffee on your laptop this morning. So you deserve a drink.

Do you deserve four drinks? Maybe not. But the alcohol is burning so good down your throat. And you haven’t indulged in a long time, so it’s going straight to your head…

When the fourth shot hits the back of your throat, you’re positively wasted, and you are loving it. You swear you can see Peter standing right there in front of you, hand stretched out towards you, asking you to dance. He’s smiling, he’s leaning down to kiss you. You’re both lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, laughing at each other, locking eyes, kissing again. But it’s all in your head and you know it, deep down you do know it.

So after enjoying the fantasy in your mind for a long, long time, you feel a few stray tears falling down your face. You feel ridiculous for feeling like this about someone who clearly hasn’t spared you a single thought since saying goodbye. You get up to open the window. The fresh air will clear your head and tomorrow will be a better day. Or so you’re trying to tell yourself.

But you freeze in place, barely a step away from the window. You can’t believe your eyes. Spider-man is sitting on your fire exit, just outside your window. His mask is off, his head is resting against your window but looking down. You see the tear roll down his cheek before you even recognise his face.

He turns to you and you lock eyes just as it all falls into place in your mind. Peter Parker is Spider-man. That’s why he kept ghosting you. That’s why he never gave a good reason for his behaviour.

And now he’s at your window, and he’s crying, and his eyes show a longing that can only be a reflection of your own.

You open the window and you continue to look at each other, neither knowing what to say.

“Peter…” you say softly.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out in response. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I was so awful. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to commit. I’m sorry I let you go. Now you know why I did it, but it’s still no excuse. And I’m sorry I showed up like this today, it’s creepy and it’s wrong, but it was a quiet night and I got drunk and all I was seeing was you. It was like I could taste your lipstick, and I just needed to see you.”

You could keep listening to him rant for hours, but you have other things in mind. So you put a hand to the back of his neck, and you pull him in for a kiss. He doesn’t hesitate long. He reciprocates the kiss with passion, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer.

He jumps in through the window, and now he’s standing right there in front of you, hand stretched out towards you, asking you to dance, although no music is playing. He’s smiling, he’s leaning down to kiss you again. Soon, you’re both lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, laughing at each other, locking eyes, and kissing again. And this time, it’s not in your head.

55 notas. Fecha de publicación: 7 de mayo de 2022

Mi publicación más popular de 2022

Night Monkey

18+ EXPLICIT [minors DNI] - Peter Parker/Spider-man fanfic

Words: 7,1k

Pairing: fem!superhero reader x Peter Parker (based on TASM!Peter but flexible)

Summary: Peter Parker takes a trip to Europe, where he encounters (and ruins the day of) an unnamed superhero (reader). Reader then demands help in return but they have to go into hiding together for a few days.

Tags: 18+ explicit, enemies to lovers, smut (if this is what you're here for, it's at the very end), slow burn, nudity, lots of sexual tension, minor violence, corruption (the political kind), misunderstandings, anonymity, cocky Peter, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, mild praise kink, mildly dubious consent, light choking, tied hands, some swearing, some mentions of past trauma, all characters are 18+.

Song inspo: Shame by InnerCut & mori

[I'm more updated on AO3 than I am here. Check my profile out here. I posted the link to this some time ago, so sorry if you've already come across it!]

Night monkey.

He publicly called you night monkey. Night. Monkey. On live television. With the whole world watching.

What kind of absolute rubbish superhero name is that. Who gave him permission to say it. Why was he talking about you in the first place.

Your first public appearance after being stung by that god forsaken black jellyfish.

It happened about six months ago. It had been just another normal day at the lab. Being a clumsy person in science had always been a struggle, but that particular day you were feeling unwell on top of it. You don’t remember what happened, you were running late, the lab coat got stuck on a chair, you tripped and banged your head against one of the tanks really hard. You opened your eyes, still lying on the floor, just in time to see the crack in the glass spreading. Next thing you know, the jellyfish that had been genetically engineered to remove plastic from the ocean was wrapped around your neck and the pain was unbearable. Your airways had swollen, you thought you were going to die from asphyxia, but then your vision became clear again. By the time your colleagues had run in from the neighbouring labs, you were actually feeling fine and you insisted to everyone that you did not need to go to hospital because the jellyfish was not dangerous. You didn’t know that for sure, actually, but you despised the doctors in the local emergency room and you really did feel fine. In fact, you felt better than you had all day, maybe even all week.

You still took the day off after the incident, mostly to settle everyone else’s nerves. You were surprised to see that by the time you got home, the swelling on your head had disappeared completely and the pain was gone. The red mark on your neck was still there, but it was painless. It actually looked more like a birthmark than a scar.

You were in the shower when things started to get properly weird. Your skin was glowing blue. That was weird enough in itself. But then when you tried to reach for the towel some kind of filament actually flew out of your wrist. From inside your skin.

You knew, rationally, that you should be freaking out. This was all extremely concerning, health wise. But you hadn’t felt this balanced in years. You also felt energised, almost like you could go for a run. That was very unlike you. But you did. And with every step you took it was more and more obvious that your body was undergoing some serious changes. But also, with every step, you felt you were gaining control over said changes. Not even a few hours had passed and you could control the glowing, the filaments (which you’d found out the hard way they stung), the newfound ability to detect and identify chemicals in the environment without need for any equipment, the ability to stay underwater for long periods of time and even the instant regeneration of your cells when injured or in pain.

You’d since become Rome’s silent guardian. You’d done your best, and mostly succeeded, at staying in the shadows, literally and figuratively. Your existence went by mostly unnoticed, other than a few rumours going about. You didn’t want the fame or the recognition or the drama that others enhanced individuals were attracting. You just wanted to do some much-needed good.

That is until, for whatever reason, Spider-man showed up today in Rome.

You were following a corrupt senator, trying to gather enough evidence of his murky businesses with the local drug-dealing elite. You were just off the Piazza Navona when you saw him on top of Neptune’s fountain. Spider-man. The absolute clown of the superhero guild.

That was enough distraction to lose sight of the senator. You cursed under your breath. You hated this job. But you also knew this was the only way of making Rome, even Italy, a better place.

Irritated, you went back to the Piazza and hid behind a street food cart to watch the scene unfold.

Spider-man seemed to be causing a panic, fighting a fish-like creature that emerged from the fountain. You had no intentions of intervening. It was way too exposed and surely the one and only Spider-man could handle it. But then that absolute moron snapped an arm off one of the stone angels and that was crossing the line.

Dressed in your black suit and mask, you’d dashed to the fountain, had a brief struggle with the creature, stung it with your filaments, and handed it to a stunned and speechless Spider-man. You’d then ran to hide in the nearest dark corner. Too late, however. A local TV station had been filming something for the news report nearby and had instantly shared the images with the city and then the world. It was the first time Spider-man had been spotted outside of New York. It was a big deal. You appearing in all the footage was collateral damage, but damage your regenerating cells could not repair.

You’d just entered a café, changed into street clothes, when you saw Spider-man being interviewed on TV.

“Really who we should thank is... Is... That person. I don’t know their name.” He was stammering.

He was being pressured into giving more information about his “assistant” as the reporter called it.

“Assistance is what he’s going to need when I catch him. Moron.” You whispered to yourself.

And that’s when he said it. “The Night Monkey.” In all fairness, it did sound like he was just desperately trying to get away from the journalists. But that was no excuse for coming up with such a horrendous name.

Your mouth is still agape, eyes glued to the screen, when the barista hands you your change and your coffee. She coughs quietly for you to move along. You finally react and practically run out of the café.

It’s just your luck that you run straight into someone walking past in the street, your coffee spilling all over both of you.

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205 notas. Fecha de publicación: 26 de abril de 2022

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