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Erik knows that Charles is both the strongest and the weakest of them all. But the 'why' of the paradox somehow gets lost in translation.
Exploration of Charles' telepathy and his relationship with Erik. Much longer, more elaborate version of my short ficlet, 'And All of the Ghouls Come out to Play.'
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Fans of Tornado Wrangler Tyler Owens think he might be hiding something, as told through various social media excerpts and comments.
Bookmarked by ForbiddenToast
03 Aug 2024
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Soulmate scars are just that. They’re scars. They behave like normal scars: they itch and they ache and they become a part of you. The only difference between a soulmate scar and a regular one is the time is takes to heal and the pain.
~
Tyler and Kate, through the years.
Series
- Part 1 of soulmate scars au
Bookmarked by ForbiddenToast
30 Jul 2024
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Advent by ClaraAeri for OmegaZeta5
Fandoms: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
09 Dec 2023
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A study in escapism, and inevitability.
"Give me a reason to," she snaps, finally grasping her Slate.
"They're my memories."
Zelda looks at him. Takes in his knit forehead and the desperation she's never seen in him until now. She swallows, struggling to keep her voice from trembling as she whispers, "They're mine, too, Link."
His heavy gaze dips, and for a moment, the crackle of her fallen torch is all there is. The seconds tick by. Five. Five more precious seconds he's stealing from her.
That she's letting him steal from her.
Then, his eyes lift, and he says:
"Let's make a deal."
Bookmarked by ForbiddenToast
07 Apr 2024
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A work exploring Hateno and a makeshift sanctuary.
Her basket's on the table, palms on either side of it. The house dark. Dim.
The door hasn’t closed behind her. Zelda turns her head, peering through windswept hair. Light pours in behind him: his silhouette standing there on the threshold of his own home like a vampire awaiting an invitation. She almost laughs at the sight. The man who cut the Devil to pieces is scared to follow after a woman with a chip on her shoulder? How far they’ve both fallen.
“It’s your house,” she points out.
Permission to enter. He does even though it’s not hers to give. It’s only a few steps, of course. Can’t break the rule. Five feet. Always five feet apart. The door closes.
She wants to break something. An old habit’s under heavy consideration.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 18,438
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 71
- Kudos:
- 1,593
- Bookmarks:
- 336
- Hits:
- 22,152
Bookmarked by ForbiddenToast
04 Apr 2024
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Black Flowers Blossom by linksthoughtbrambles for flowerpower
Fandoms: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom
13 Jan 2024
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A cruel prince is no match for love, even and especially in darkness.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 13,282
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 36
- Kudos:
- 286
- Bookmarks:
- 77
- Hits:
- 4,741
Bookmarked by ForbiddenToast
26 Mar 2024
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Soap was a young rookie with quirks, but he was coping. Captain John MacTavish has the world on his shoulders, and he is not coping. The lives of everyone he cares about depend on him being able to do things Just Right, all the time. All his little rituals block out the thoughts of causing their deaths. They protect the 141. But nobody is perfect. When he slips, Ghost is there to catch him.
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"You don't know where your sergeant is, Lieutenant?"
He could find out. Leave right now and track him. Not like they don’t have all the latest technology to do so just steps away. One trip to the armoury and he’d be set. Find Soap in an hour.
A small voice tickles the back of his mind. Maybe you shouldn’t be so obsessed with this.
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Soap keeps disappearing. Ghost gets curious.
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Laswell tilts her head with a bland smile. “You're here for an exercise.”
John glances toward the window, narrowing an eye at the unfamiliar stonework outside it. “In Toulouse.”
“Yes,” Laswell says, digging now into a different pocket and pulling out an evident passport. “You will need to arrive at the target location by sundown without detection.”
“Detection?” John repeats, glancing between Laswell’s face and the passport with a blink.
“Do you recall Las Almas?” Laswell deflects, firmly, voice determinedly neutral and wearing her most unreadable expression.
John suffers a vague thump of unease beneath his sternum. “Aye.”
“It has been decided that urban navigation is a useful skill to hone and improve on,” Laswell says, gesturing upward with a palm in a spinning motion that seems to be intended to encompass the situation around them. “So as an exercise, we’re doing it in a relatively controlled environment.”
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It should have been a no-brainer, really. Ghost should have balked at the thought of spending time in close proximity to any of his colleagues, let alone the one man that he actually had the potential to disappoint. That was his rule — distance meant safety.
It should have been an easy answer.
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When the news of three weeks’ forced leave reaches Ghost, he’s resigned himself to loneliness in an empty base. That is, until a certain Sergeant offers him an invitation he just can’t seem to refuse.
Or: the sheep farming fic nobody asked for
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Ghost lets himself be pulled up slightly, his hand just as steady on Soap's thigh. "That what you need, Johnny?" he asks, licking his lips behind the balaclava. Soap’s eyes drop to his mouth, flick back up. "You wanna draw blood? Be in control?"
"Lt–" Soap starts, lips parted on a rough exhale. A plea or a warning, Ghost can't tell. He's too focused on the way Soap's pupils dilate, and the way the edge of the knife digs into the fabric at his throat.
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When Graves rears his head not ten days after Las Almas Ghost starts questioning Soap's loyalty, and with it whatever's left of his own sanity.
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"Bloody Jesus." Soap shook his head, weapon down again, heart still high in his throat. "One of these days someone is gonna shoot ye for being a creep."
Ghost didn't even blink at that, fully stepping out of the small shadow that had been partially obscuring his bulk. He was geared up as usual, if usual meant having to take on an entire platoon by himself.
"I would like to see them try", he rumbled.
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Or, five times Ghost did Soap a favor and the one time Soap had paid him back.
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“Ghost?”
“Soap.” Ghost’s voice was a low buzz, gravelly with static. In the absolute silence of the snow-covered forest, it sounded both deafeningly loud and intimately quiet.
“What’s your favourite season?” Soap asked.
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Four seasons, five countries, six months.
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And the thing is, Soap doesn't usually have to try so hard to appear like nothing's wrong.
So when he's like this—quiet and withdrawn and plastering on a smile that might look real enough to anyone else—Ghost is worried. So he tries to help—fuck, he tries.
Series
- Part 8 of Any Time You Need Me
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Just one bite; to taste, and let go.
Or, the on-field flirting is getting a little ridiculous.
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“Johnny, fuckin’ hell.” Skull-framed eyes widened. A hand shot out to grab Soap’s shoulder, turning him to get a better look at whatever had caught Ghost's attention. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Soap looked down at himself to get an idea what the lieutenant was freaking out about.
Ah. Blood. Quite an impressive amount, actually.
Soap gets a little bit shot. It's fine, but the shock rattles their small group, making them even closer than before. Also, there's a game of Cluedo, for some reason.
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When he had woken, it was to a skull swimming in and out of his vision, and for a second he figured that the reaper had come to claim his wretched soul. It didn’t scare him much; after all, he had long since accepted his meeting with death would come early in this job. He would have liked to work in the 141 longer than he had, however. He liked his teammates, liked Captain Price and his funny moustache and strong leadership, liked Gaz and his like minded humour and youthful honesty. He liked the big, scary Ghost, even if he hadn’t delved as deeply into the mysteries of that man as he wanted to.
The skull was talking to him.“I’m not the grim reaper, you overdramatic wanker.”
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Soap falls in love during a war that doesn't have room for such feelings.
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“And so, like I said,” continued Alejandro, eyes still sparkling with mirth. “Look after those two.”
“I’m not gonna play matchmaker.”
The very idea almost made him laugh out loud. Alejandro did bark a laugh, however, loud enough to earn curious glances from the other three men, who thankfully stood out of earshot of their conversation.
“Por favor no! Though that would be a sight, captain. I simply ask you to make sure they don’t accidentally break their necks on this,”
Price smiled as the rest of the team approached.
“I’ll do my best.”
Glimpses of Ghost and Soap’s relationship, from Price’s perspective, as everyone else clocks they're in love long before they do.
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Soap makes a choked off noise of pure, unadulterated panic, and then he’s floating, drifting far away as his ears ring from the sound of multiple bombs going off.
When he comes to, he only gets to be happy that he’s somehow still alive for a moment, because everything hits him all at once. Pain explodes from every single part of him he can feel, and he wants to scream. He doesn’t, instead trying to take a deep breath to ground himself, but there’s rubble on top of him that’s unyielding, restricting his every breath.
His breath catches in his throat; focus, MacTavish. Assess your situation before you start panicking.
or, Soap gets trapped under the rubble of a collapsed building, and makes the (stupid) executive decision to omit that piece of information to the rest of 141. No one is happy about this when they find out.
Series
- Part 1 of whispers
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Summary
so take my hand, and take my whole life too. Or, the one in which Wilson realizes he's in love. It kind of throws him off-kilter.
Bookmarked by ForbiddenToast
01 Oct 2023