ungodlyscreeching
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With the arrival of Princess Azula, Toph Beifong, and Master Piandao to the Fire Nation, Fire Lord Zuko, barely staying afloat as is, finds himself thrown directly into the very thing he's been avoiding: the fallout of the Hundred-Year War. As faces old and new emerge from the shadows, some friend and other foe, Zuko struggles to help both his nation and the world while grappling with exactly what it means to do what is right.
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Books 2 and 3 of Fractures
Series
- Part 2 of Fractures
- Language:
- English
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- 10,669
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- 3/22
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- 6
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Bookmarked by ungodlyscreeching
09 Apr 2024
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Crowds aren't easy when Jon can feel the emotions of every person in the room simultaneously, but the weekly craft club is familiar enough to be bearable, even comforting. They aren't friends, but they are friendly, and the familiar minds around him soothe his desperate need for connection. No one knows what he is, and he is safe.
One day, a man walks in with a mind like the surface of the sun.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 18,049
- Chapters:
- 1/1
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- 1
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- 34
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Bookmarked by ungodlyscreeching
27 Aug 2023
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Captain Aurinko claims she sees evidence of Nureyev having an enduring moral core, a heart that he’s perfectly capable of excising should he so choose.
She’s right. See, that’s the funny thing about Nureyev’s predicament: it is a prison of his own making. He can stop sending payments, free himself of his constant stress and toil, whenever he so chooses. If only he gives up his heart.
But his heart is lying in a hospital bed several planets away, near-braindead and hooked up to machines. And he isn’t going to let that heart die. Not for anything.
Bookmarked by ungodlyscreeching
21 Feb 2023
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ride on through the night by orphan_account
Fandoms: Spider-Man (Comicverse), Fantastic Four (Comicverse)
05 Aug 2020
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Peter’s apartment smells like dust and soy sauce and webfluid. It’s got the same terrible green backsplash tiles in the kitchen and the same crowded, clumsy bookcases that Johnny has always tended to organize for fun. The same sneakers sit by the door: black Nikes meant for skateboarding that Peter’s had since they were teenagers, now so well-worn that the soles are duct-taped to the sides. The same brown denim jacket hangs on the hook; coffee mug succulent sits in the window; black stain sprays up and out of a socket from that tiny electrical fire they’d set when they were high and rewiring Peter’s funky lava lamp while it was still plugged in.
It takes a weight off Johnny’s shoulders, being submerged in it: here is another thing that hasn’t changed. Peter is, at his core, the same.
He crosses to Peter’s deep, corduroy couch and tosses himself onto it.
Peter stands in front of Johnny, hovering in that white and black suit, mask now balled in his hand. His eyes are wide and his jaw is tight.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” is what Johnny says.
or, the one where they were roommates: the remix
Bookmarked by ungodlyscreeching
13 Feb 2021
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Never before had she been so delicate in the act. When she had scraped her teeth from carotid to fibula, she had felt no hunger: only a sense of sacrifice, almost religious in nature. Perhaps it had been hers, or perhaps it had been his: theirs, even. This was their crucifixion — though his body would not resurrect, it would transcend, becoming something other-than-eater, something other-than-human.
Bookmarked by ungodlyscreeching
21 Dec 2022