#Agent 🍁

[the-silent-orchestra]

Hello, dear conductor. Would you accept a few dried flowers as a gift?

- 🍁

"That's. . ."

(The conductor stares at the leaves.)

"Those are dead leaves, wow."

[risetherivermoon]

im as focused on hermie as the rest of everyone is but...

im curious to know if grant heard/saw linc strangling agent schmegan and saying the line about killing his family, like-

[thecouchsofa]

I haven't yet finished this fic but I'm definitely loving it! The Star Splitter by @oflights has gotten me out of a huge reading slump with its snappy writing style, fantastic pacing, and incredibly rootable characters. I, like Draco, would absolutely die for seven-year-old-Harry 🧡

Draco/Harry | Rated E | 219k words

Summary:

On a routine time travel assignment to the past, Draco stumbles upon 7-year-old Harry Potter and witnesses his neglect and mistreatment by the Dursleys. In the moment, there is only one solution, even if it goes against all his training as a Time Agent: he has to bring Harry back to the future with him. In which Draco burns his life down for the sake of his former school rival.

Tags: Time Travel, Magical Theory, Healer Harry, Time Agent Draco, Canonical Child Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, Slow Burn, Harry Potter Thinks Draco Malfoy is Up to Something, Kid Fic, Parenthood, Eventual Happy Ending, Morally Grey Draco, Hurt/Comfort, Violence

🍃🍀🍂🍁

📚 Check out the rest of the recs at @hprecfest 📚

[fleurdelouvemonth]

And thus, we bring to an official close the fourth Fleur De Louve Month, event 2024! 🦾🛥👩🏿‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻Thank you so much to all the authors and artists who took part in or read or reblogged all the amazing art that was created!

But wait! I hear you ask: what do we do with all the love we have left behind?

Fear not! Any additional works or recs related to this month can still be submitted and we will be happy to reblog it and update the list to include them.

The admins thoroughly enjoyed interacting with everyone and appreciate you all for helping this ship grow! Please stay tuned for what comes next and, always, keep creating for the good ship Fleur De Louve!

You can find the full AO3 collection here!

🦃🥧🍁🍠🦌❄️🍂☃️🎄🎁🕎🍪🌬🍎🧣🎁

1. Checking in… by NefertiriJones 

(Tumblr fic link with artwork @tllgrrl)

Bingo boxes: Free space

Chapters 1/1 - Rated: T

It’s almost Christmas, Bucky Barnes is in the field, and has to make a quick phone call home. Unfortunately, he has a…captive audience.

Other characters: Alexi Shostakov-Red Guardian, Yelena Belova-Black Widow, John Walker-US Agent, Ava Starr-Ghost

Additional Tags: Ficlet, Wordcount: 100-500

2. It’s All Greek To Me by NefertiriJones

(Tumblr fic link with artwork @tllgrrl)

Bingo boxes: Dusk/Free space

Chapters 1/1 - Rated: T

Just another one of the many languages running around in Bucky Barnes’ brain. A language Sarah had a passing...encounter…with.

Other characters: N/A

Additional Tags: Fluff, Romance, no jealousy here, Kissing, Light Petting, PolyglottalShenanigans, Wordcount: 100-500

3. Seasonings by NefertiriJones

(Tumblr fic link @tllgrrl)

Bingo boxes: Seasoning/Dusk/Free space

Chapters 1/1 - Rated: G

Bucky calls in a last minute favor, gets a package from Home, and a phone-call from a Princess.

Other characters: Shuri

Additional Tags: Bucky Living His Best Life

4. The Vampire on Prytania Street by Sarifinasnightmare

(Tumblr fic link @sarifinasnightmare)

Bingo boxes: Fairytale/ “Never Scare Me Like That Again”/Farmer’s Market/Masquerade Ball/“Darling, you’re already in my veins”

Vampire AU - Chapters 10/10 - Rated: M

The large manor on Prytania Street had belong to the Barnes for as long as the neighbors could remember. Besides the gardening men, no one had seen anyone around it, until one day the widow Darlene Wilson climbed up the steps to reunite with an old friend. The vampire AU I swore I'd never write. Oh well.

Other characters: Sarah Wilson's Husband, Sam Wilson, Darlene Wilson, Cass Wilson, AJ Wilson, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff, Peggy Carter, Original Female Character(s) of Color, Original Male Character(s) of Color

Additional Tags: Drama & Romance, Family Drama, Attempt at Humor, Human/Vampire Relationship, Breaking vampire stereotypes, Idiots in Love Sort Of, Post-Divorce, Hurt/Comfort, Shameless Smut, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Angst and Fluff and Smut

Thank you again for all of the amazing content you created to make this event possible! You're the one who keeps this ship alive and kicking! We wouldn't be here without you!

Feel free to bookmark this post and come back to enjoy Fleur De Louve art again and again!

Don't forget to send your thanks to the authors and share the art!

(Divider credits go to @firefly-graphics)

[rainintheevening]

🍁🍁Comfy-vember 🍁🍁

Day 9: Scars

Grant Ward & Phil Coulson, Agents of SHIELD, Saving Grant Ward AU, aftermath of torture, non-sexualized bathing/washing, the author does not recommend postponing medical care for a shower

---------

The first thing Grant demanded was a shower.

"It's been three weeks, okay? You don't want me in your medbay like this."

Simmons stood with her arms crossed over her chest, frowning down at him where he sat on the Quinjet, which had just touched down in the Playground's hanger. "Just because Trip splinted your leg and I gave you some anesthetic, doesn't mean it isn't serious. You need to get the bone set, and I'm worried about infection. Never mind your shoulder—heaven only knows what those x-rays are going to look like."

Phil stayed seated, feeling Grant's weight leaning into him, though it was less than it had been before. Before Garrett, before HYDRA, before he'd been on the run. There was no denying Grant was a mess—greasy hair grown too long and falling in his eyes, ragged jacket and jeans bearing mud and tree sap smears, a fading black eye, and that nasty red scar in front of one ear that ran down to his neck. But he was here! He was safe, he was home, he was back where he belonged. Phil's kid was home again, and the joy of that overwhelmed any grief or fear for now.

"Medbay is built for messes, man." Trip grinned down at his old buddy. "Think about how many people puke in there."

"I'm with Ward," Fitz put in, hovering over Jemma's shoulder. "He should- um- er–"

"Shower." Jemma's whisper was barely audible.

"–shower if he wa-would like to."

"Thank you, Fitz." Grant opened his eyes to smile at the younger agent. "I'm taking a shower," he said again to Simmons. "I'll get back to you in an hour. In the medbay."

Phil knew that tone, and smiled up at the agents clustered in front of them, now including May; Skye lingered warily in the cockpit. It hit him suddenly that they were all here. Grant, May, Fitzsimmons, Skye, Trip. The whole team, reunited.

But he shook off the warm surge of emotion. Grant had to be cared for. "You're not budging him, guys, sorry."

"And what if you fall and break something else?" Simmons argued. "Splitting your skull open in the shower isn't exactly unheard of, and you're not exactly stable."

Grant sighed, sitting straighter so he could turn his head to look at Phil. "Dad?"

That tired little murmur had Phil swallowing hard, nodding before he answered: "Of course. Don't worry," to Simmons. "I'll go with him."

Grant shifted his weight to stand, and Phil moved quickly, ducking under the good right arm, as he levered himself up on the good left leg.

"At least let us get you a stretcher or a wheelchair." Simmons's hands fluttered out in a helpless gesture.

Stiffly, Grant patted her arm with his free hand, made more awkward by the damaged shoulder. "Thank you for your concern, Jemma. But I'm walking in there."

"He's not unconscious," Trip shrugged, moving to Grant's other side, but Fitz had beat him to it.

"Alright, we've got you," Fitz said, his arm joining Coulson's around Grant's waist.

Grant's smile was soft, and he nudged his chin against the curly hair at his shoulder. "Thanks, Leo."

The pure love and hero worship in Fitz's answering look would have melted anyone's heart.

By the time they made it to the bottom of the ramp, though, Phil was wishing Grant had taken Jemma's offer. Even with the local anesthetic in his leg, and the age of his shoulder wound, he moved slow and painful, only the hiss of his breathing betraying what must have been agony. He'd lost enough weight that Phil could have comfortably carried him, but he doubted Grant would agree to that with such an entourage.

That thought was cemented when the second set of heavy doors slid open to the main hall, and instantly a wave of applause washed over them.

Dozens of agents of all ranks and duties lined both sides of the hall, clapping and cheering as Grant stood frozen. Out of the corner of his eye, Phil saw him go first white, then red under the dirt and sweat.

"They're all the ones you saved," came May's calm voice behind them. "At Rabbit's Run and Carlton Place and Foxhole. They know what you did for them."

Most of them were hostages released in the wake of Grant's silent but deadly run on the HYDRA ranks. He'd assassinated almost a hundred HYDRA agents and operatives in the US and Europe, all in the span of two months, and while carrying a bullet in his shoulder. Not even Natasha could match that, Phil thought, pride welling in his chest.

As they came down into the hall, Agent Morse stepped forward, a genuine smile tugging at her lips.

"Baby Bird." Grant nodded at her.

"Baby Hawk." She grinned. "Welcome back."

Phil wanted to chuckle at the normalcy of their friendly banter, but he could feel Grant's arm trembling around his neck, Grant using all his strength to stand tall in front of the crowd.

"I suppose I have you to blame for this circus."

"Nah, it was Mack's idea."

"Mack." Grant smiled faintly over toward the big man. "Now if you'll excuse me, Birdy, I need a shower."

"And then medical attention," Simmons piped up rather crossly.

"Yeah, that's obvious." Concern creased Bobbi's forehead as she took in his current state. "Well, I certainly won't stand in your way." She stepped back into the line of agents on the left.

"Showers are down two levels with the bunks," Phil said softly, as they stepped forward again. "We'll take the elevator. Straight ahead, then to the right."

Grant did not reply, he was exerting every effort to limp as strongly and steadily as possible down that hall. Some of the agents they passed stood to attention and saluted, some just nodded or tapped a fist over their heart.

What a contrast to the outrage and anger that had gripped the surviving SHIELD members after they saw the footage from the Treehouse massacre—Grant Ward following John Garrett as obediently as a leashed dog. Phil, had been one of his only defenders, along with Fitzsimmons. Even when Grant had betrayed Providence, Phil had clung to his belief that his kid was just playing the game, keeping his cover by giving information that may or may not result in deaths. It was a far better idea than the alternative.

And Phil's belief had been vindicated.

Just Phil, Grant, Fitz, and Trip stepped into the elevator, and the second the doors closed, Grant sagged heavily into Phil, almost falling.

"Steady, steady!" Fitz exclaimed, then froze as his frantic tug on Grant's injured arm elicited a deep groan from him.

"Just– gimme a minute," Grant squeezed out.

"It's okay, Fitz," Phil said, hooking his fingers under Grant's belt to support him better.

It was... different sticking with an injured member of his team this far. Usually by now he'd stepped back, taking the team leader's long view, taking stock and planning what to do next, while other more qualified people did their jobs. Especially now that he was Director Coulson, and not just another agent. But this was Grant, this was his son. Grant trusted him like no one else. And Phil was more than grateful to have this time with Grant, after so long.

"I wanna sleep for a week," Grant whispered, somewhere around Phil's collar.

"That can be arranged." Trip looked both concerned and amused. "Are you sure you're up to this, man?"

Grant did not lift his head from Phil's shoulder, even as the elevator halted, and Phil barely caught his whisper: "I just want to get him off me."

Phil stiffened, and Grant straightened hastily, shaking his head. "No, no! That's not what I– I just–" He made a frustrated sound. "I smell like HYDRA," he said at last.

"You smell like shit," Trip said dryly.

"Exactly."

Phil had been blocking it out best he could, but in the narrow space of the elevator, it was impossible not to notice the reek of sweat and blood and something rotten that clung to Grant. Phil did not blame him at all for wanting that shower.

It took them another ten minutes to reach the men's showers; a long narrow space, with benches along one wall facing a row of shower heads, half enclosed, half not.

Fitz was sent for a chair, while Trip helped Phil remove the splint from Grant's leg and cut the bottom of his pant leg off so it could be put back on over bare skin.

"Are you sure you don't want me to-?" Trip held up a hand against Grant's glare. "Nah, it's okay, man. I'll leave you two to it." He glanced at Phil. "Want me and Fitz to stand guard outside?"

"One of you at least, if you wouldn't mind." He was about to ask if Trip could fetch something clean for Grant to wear, when Fitz came in, carrying the chair, and a handful of clothes.

"Agent May brought these." He held out the clothing: Grant's old Seahawks sweatshirt, a SHIELD-issue t-shirt and underwear, and a pair of flannels Phil didn't recognize. "Agent MacKenzie, er, gave the trousers."

Phil smiled, noting how Fitz's transitions from a word he couldn't remember to one he did were getting smoother. "Tell them both thanks."

"Clearing out now, sir." Trip patted Fitz's shoulder in a way that served to steer him back toward the door. "Holler if you need anything."

The clank of the door shutting echoed in the sparsely outfitted room, and then there was silence, except for a pipe gurgling, and the harsh sound of Grant's breathing.

Phil knelt beside him, involuntarily reaching to push back the shaggy hair from his forehead. They'd laid him flat on the floor for stability while they moved the splint around, but Phil couldn't help thinking he looked nearly dead, stretched out like that.

Grant opened his eyes, squinted up at him.

"You ready?" Phil asked softly.

"Think the granola bars are kicking in." Grant sighed, sat up carefully. "Let's get this over with."

They started with peeling off Grant's jacket, and two button-down shirts. "Haven't worn a t-shirt since Anchorage," he muttered, letting his left arm fall back into his lap.

Phil nodded silently. He remembered the shock of Grant's body hitting his, in time with the crack of Garrett's gun. That bullet had ended up in Grant's shoulder, rather than Phil's brain.

He frowned at Grant's torso, counting three puckered spots of skin, obvious gunshot scars. "Where'd you get those?"

Grant had already started to shiver slightly, and sat forward instead of back against the cold cinderblock wall. He took a moment to reply. "Garrett. On the Bus. Trying to get Fitzsimmons."

Phil was kneeling in front of him where he sat on the bench, so he could look up into Grant's face. There was a distance in Grant's gaze he understood, but didn't like. "Jemma was sure you were dead. She said you got shot at least six times. Fitz was heartbroken."

A spark in the dark brown eyes, a twitch of the lips. "He's a good kid. Leo the lion, bravest of them all."

"But Garrett kept you alive."

A nod, and Grant looked away.

Phil took a deep breath, quelling the anger and sadness that welled in him, and reached slowly to cup Grant's cheek, press his fingers to sweat-sticky too-warm skin.

"I'm glad you're alive."

A glance at him, before Grant's eyes welled up, and he covered them with one hand. Phil's heart cracked a little; four hours since rescue and this was the first time he’d seen tears from from Grant.

Grant slid his hand over on top of Phil's, now hiding his face behind both of them, but he gripped Phil's fingers painfully tight. He said nothing, but a few deep breaths later, he let go, sat straighter, rubbed his eyes.

"Okay, let's move."

They had to cut the waistbands of his jeans and underwear above the injured leg to get those off anywhere close to comfortably, and then Phil turned on the water, giving it time to warm. Grant would need that; Phil hated hearing the little teeth chatters and quick breaths behind him as he collected the company-issue soap and shampoo from a shelf, along with washcloths and a clean towel. Koenig deserved a raise for keeping this place so well-stocked, Phil thought.

At last he helped Grant gently to his feet, and half-carried him into the now-steaming shower, lowering him to sit in the chair Fitz had brought.

A little gasp escaped Grant as the warm water hit him, before he relaxed, tilted his head back to let it wash over his face. Phil moved back to the curtained entrance, awkward and uncertain now. He'd set the soap and things within Grant's reach, but it wouldn't be easy for him to wash himself in his current state. He decided to wait for Grant to ask before he tried to help any further.

He had a sudden sharp recollection of being a child in the bathroom doorway, watching his mother help his father bathe, near the end when the cancer had robbed him of his strength. It was the same mixture of embarrassment, helplessness, and love that filled Phil now.

Sweat beaded on his brow, and he became aware of his heavy jacket and boots, and the water splashing on the cement floor. He left the coat, socks, and boots on the bench, along with his watch, rolling up his sleeves as he walked back to the shower stall.

That was when Phil finally saw the bullet scar clearly, stark on Grant's flushed skin. A dent the size of a quarter in his left shoulder, red and purple lines radiating outward in a strange sort of shatter pattern.

In the narrow space, Grant's back was only an arm's length away, but Phil hesitated to touch him, afraid to startle him. He'd carried that wound for two months– How had he ever survived? How had he kept going? Kept spying and shooting and moving.

"Coulson," Grant was saying. "Dad!"

He blinked, shook his head, cleared his throat. "Yes?"

Grant had his head down, turned, but not quite looking back at him. His hand holding the shampoo bottle was trembling. "Can you-?"

"Of course."

Water droplets pattered against his arms, darkened his sleeves as he worked a lather into Grant's hair, careful and awkward at first, before settling down to the job. He could feel Grant relaxing under his hands, and bit back a smile.

"Feeling better?" he murmured, as soapy grey water slid down the drain.

Grant's only reply was a grunt.

"Just don't fall asleep," Phil warned. "You can do that when they knock you out in the med bay."

"Won't need to knock me out," Grant mumbled.

No, they probably wouldn't, Phil thought. At this rate, he'd be carrying Grant down to the med bay.

"Anything else I can do?" he asked aloud, dropping his right hand to Grant's shoulder.

Grant said nothing, just held up a washcloth, and Phil silently took it.

He eased back a step, as Grant leaned forward, and was thinking of how gentle he'd have to be when he paused, staring at Grant's back.

The bullet hole wasn't the only scar there. There were other, older lines, cuts, burns that almost looked like finger prints, and... was that-?

"Grant. What is this?" He could barely hear his own whisper over the running water.

"What-?" Grant started, before he froze under Phil's touch.

Phil's stomach churned as he traced the raised flesh, the hollow-eyed skull and the eight curling tentacles. Bile rose in his throat, hot and scalding, but he swallowed it back. "Who did this to you?" He hated how his voice broke, how tears burned behind his eyes.

"Sorry, Garrett's already dead."

With a curse, Phil turned away, slammed a fist into the metal wall, but Grant's flinch yanked him back from the anger better than the pain in his knuckles did.

A deep breath, before he found a word. "Why?"

Grant seemed to shrink under his gaze, curling under the weight of that awful brand. But his words came as steadily as they would in any debriefing. "He said I was his. After I– I tried to escape. They tortured me, but he wouldn't let me die. And then he had me branded. To make sure everyone knew which master to send the mutt back to.

"Did you know?" He sat straighter, as if the bitter words gave him strength, glanced over his shoulder up at Phil. "Did he tell you he came to recruit me? In juvie? He got to the detention centre ten minutes after we left. He wanted me for HYDRA. But you beat him to it." A rusty laugh. "The way he harped on that, you would have thought you'd done it on purpose." He sighed, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "After- after I broke, after I shot Firenze... he said he won. He said he got me in the end."

The warmth on Phil's cheeks was not water; it stung in his eyes, burned in his throat. Words, where were they? What was he supposed to say?

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. We should have searched harder, we should have found you, I should have saved you. But when he opened his mouth, no sound came.

Blinking away tears, he looked down to where his hands rested on Grant's shoulders, water pattering over his fingers and dripping steadily down from his wrists... washing over those scars. On the right, the brand of HYDRA. On the left, the shattered mark earned from saving Coulson. He wished suddenly that the brand could have been on the left, could have been punched through by that bullet. Because which one had been Grant's choice?

"He didn't."

It came out in a croak, and Phil cleared his throat.

"He didn't get you in the end. You were willing to die to save me. The whole time he thought he had you, you were waiting to turn it back on him. He might have had your hands tied, but he didn't have you."

Grant sat quite still in front of him, head bowed, and suddenly Phil needed to see his face, to make sure Grant understood the truth. He ignored how water soaked his shirt as he stepped around to turn the shower off, and in the ringing hush, sank into a crouch in front of Grant.

Naked, dripping, hungry, exhausted, scarred, and in pain—this was Grant Ward at his most vulnerable. Phil only hoped he could get it right, could say and be whatever it was Grant needed most right now.

"Grant," he murmured.

A sniff, a shaky exhale, a hand rubbed across his face, but Grant did not look up.

Phil shifted to one knee, reaching up to cup the back of Grant's neck, rest their heads together. "You did what you had to do to survive."

Grant shook his head, drew back. When he looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed and wet. "You taught me a long time ago there was more to life than survival."

"I trust your judgement on the cost. You're a good man, Grant. Making the hard choices doesn't change that."

Tears brimmed over, and he turned his face away again.

"You stayed alive," Phil whispered. "And I'm grateful."

A shudder under Phil's hand, and then a sob broke out, Grant shaking his head hard. "But I didn't! I didn't try to survive! He wouldn't let me die."

How could his heart hurt anymore? Phil wondered. Not that he could really pretend surprise. Torture could push people in all kinds of directions. But he needed to keep Grant talking, dig out whatever was festering in his heart.

"What do you mean?" he whispered.

"This scar," Grant gulped, lifted a shaking hand to the pink line running down from in front of his right ear to under his jaw. "That wasn't Garrett. That was me."

And now he was sobbing, slumping forward against Phil's chest. As gently as he could, Phil wrapped an arm over Grant's back, their positions making it awkward to offer more physical comfort.

He wished he had a towel to wrap around Grant's shoulders, knowing the chill would get to him sooner or later. Cool water was dripping down inside his collar, and the hard floor was hurting his knee, but Grant had a fistful of his shirt, and Phil would not have pulled away for the world. He pressed his cheek against wet hair, and closed his eyes.

"What happened, Grant? Talk to me. This is our debriefing. Just us. Talk to me."

"He told me they were dead," Grant choked out. "Fitzsimmons. But he kept me alive. Tortured me. No food. No water. Alone. In the dark. For weeks." A last sob shuddered through him, and he subsided to ragged breathing. He was collecting himself, trying to explain coherently. "Garrett wanted to break me. I tried to escape, but–" a deep shaky inhale "–they caught me. Beat me. When I woke up... he branded me. And I..." His voice caught, and he shook his head, shivered.

"I'm sorry, Dad, I'm so sorry."

That tearful whisper tore at Phil's heart, and a couple warm drops slipped down his own cheeks.

"For what?" Even though he knew the answer.

"I was supposed to die bravely. But I couldn't. I wanted it to end! I just wanted... it to stop, so I tried. I stole a knife, went for the carotid. When I woke up... Garrett said I wouldn't get away that easy.

"I gave in, Dad." Another round of sobs threatened, but he fought them back. "I wasn't trying to be a double agent, I just... wanted to eat every day. I wanted to wake up and not hurt. I don't even remember the Treehouse. Because he was right. I was no better than a dog."

"Grant Douglas Ward." His voice came out too loud, and he tried to soften it with a hand on Grant's cheek. "Look at me." He stared into bloodshot brown eyes, gripped Grant's face gently. "Sometimes heroes have to start by saving their own lives. And yours is worth it." A thumb stroked deliberately down the knife's old path. "So thank you. Thank you for surviving. I'm proud of you, son."

More tears, but quieter now, both of them worn and chilled.

Phil leaned in to press a warm kiss to Grant's forehead. "Come on," he murmured. "We better finish up and get you in some dry clothes."

"Okay."

As he stood though, Grant caught his hand, squeezed it. "I love you, Dad." His tiny tired smile was like the sun breaking through clouds.

It took a moment before Phil could answer.

"I love you, son."

He tried to move quickly, cleaning Grant's back, and helping him wash around the splint. The little gasps from Grant at any movement of his leg, told him the anesthetic had run his course, and his kid belonged in the med bay ten minutes ago.

But at the same time there seemed to be something lighter in Grant's eyes, in his air, and Phil was certain their conversation had been a good thing. What was that saying? The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable? Well, they'd gotten some of the misery out of the way.

Getting Grant dry and dressed was an arduous process, but at last he sat on the bench, clad in the borrowed flannels and Phil's jacket, preferable because of its zipper. Phil discarded his soaked button down, and took the t-shirt and sweater. May had forgotten socks, so he gave Grant his own, kneeling in front of him to gently ease on one and then the other, at least as far as it could go on the wounded leg.

As Phil hastily laced his boots, he glanced sideways at Grant's pale face, and closed eyes, the way he slumped back against the wall, still shivering.

"I'm carrying you." Not a question, a decision.

"You always carry me."

The words were barely audible, and he wondered if Grant had meant to say that aloud. But he clearly meant for Phil to hear him as he was set gently on the elevator floor, Fitz and Trip fussing around his leg. As Phil made to stand, Grant caught his sleeve, spoke soft but steady. "I'm glad I'm alive too."

Phil could only nod and smile.

Grant was asleep on his shoulder by the time the elevator stopped.

[shotmrmiller]

I know you said Simon had his suspicions when dbf!Price’s arm flinched when reader was asking for the salt. But how did he confirm those suspicions that there was something going on between his daughter and Price? Cuz obviously Simon isn’t dumb, he’s a SF operator for Christ’s sake

-🍁

i think i was just having fun with that little story, there's no way that's real. like simon would've killed him, or viciously removed him from his home and demanded he be transferred elsewhere or—

like there'd be such a severe penalty to a married older man fucking around with his daughter that simon can never know.

simon might be good, but his captain is better. he'd cut it off the moment simon gets remotely suspicious.

he's a double agent for himself, lmao. price is simon's confidant, the one who knows about his tortured past and the like. simon goes to him for advice about you.

so he'll take what he can for now. the kind of man john has to be to do the shit he's done can't be a moral one.

oh well.

[deansapplepie]

What I am writting

About deansapplepie

Rules

Daryl Dixon’s Masterlist

Agent Whiskey’s Masterlist

Javier Peña’s Masterlist

Marchweres

@marchweres by @lazyneonrabbitt

Day 1 - 2: Full Moon, Shapeshifting, Predator-Prey (Daryl Dixon x Reader) 🥵

Day 3: The Bite, Mating Bite(Daryl Dixon x Reader)🥵

Day 4 - 5: Cursed, Finding Out (Remus Lupin x Reader)🍁🪷

Day 6: Wet Dog (Daryl Dixon x Reader)🪷

Day 7: Hunting (Daryl Dixon x Reader)🪷

Day 8: Loyal (Daryl Dixon x Reader) 🍁

[dustofthedailylife]

In Case You Missed It

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

A “newsletter” containing all fics I have posted recently that you might have missed.

🍁 "A Dream Of You" // Alhaitham // FLUFF Summary: Dreams were something the citizens of Sumeru didn't know for a long time. Alhaitham was one of the ones who has never experienced dreams either. So when he experiences it for the first time he is conflicted. Because he dreams of you.

🍁 Let It Snow // Diluc, Zhongli, Alhaitham // FLUFF Summary: Snowy adventures with the boys. 🍁 Little Endearing Things They Do // Alhaitham, Ayato, Zhongli, Heizou, Diluc, Xiao, Cyno, Thoma // FLUFF Summary: Little endearing gestures they do that make you fall for them anew every time - or how they show their love without words.

🍁 "That Day I Befriended A Slime" // Ayato, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Albedo // FLUFF, CRACK Summary: How they react to seeing Reader befriend a slime.

🍁 That Which Is Forbidden // Alhaitham // ANGST Summary: Forbidden knowledge forever alters the memory and personality of a person and drives them insane. Everyone in Sumeru knew as much. Yet you conducted research on it anyway.

NEW CHAPTER UPDATE FOR...

🍁 It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn // Diluc x Fatui! Reader → Chapter 4 - Revelations Summary: You’re a Fatui Agent, tasked with assassinating the one man who three years ago had almost succeeded to shatter the entire organization out of sheer hatred and thirst for vengeance. The best way to get close to someone? You make them fall in love with you - only that you didn’t plan on catching feelings yourself.

Missed the start? Start right at → Chapter 1 - The Mission

RANDOM BLURBS, HCs & BRAINROTS

🍁 "Adeptal Energy" (Zhongli x Reader) 🍁 Drunk Alhaitham (x Reader) 🍁 Xiao and Cats (x Reader) 🍁 Alhaitham and his Quirks 🍁 Alhaitham x Akasha Hacker!Reader

[a-caged-crow]

Miss Binah, um..

It's not one of my proudest pieces, but I wanted to illustrate you with what free time I had between workshifts.

- 🍁

Rip to my anon-inity but I really wanted to send this, the nugget is modeled after one of my finest extraction team agents //

This is simply beautiful Feather, I must thank you for it. She would neatly fold it and place it within her coat Maybe we should open a department of arts, for you and the others.

[guided-by-the-skies]

🍁 Mars Moon Aspects

Just some Mars moon aspects and predictions as the potential interactions of these two planets intrigued me. May or may not ring true

Mars trine moon ★ Mars conjunct moon ★ Mars square moon ★ Mars opposition moon

Interesting observations:

• those with mars aspect the moon in any way may have some sort of physical aspect to their emotions, and at it's most basic level this can look like physical expression of emotion e.g. hugging, 'glomping', but also throwing things when angry, etc. at another level physical expression of emotions can mean drawing, playing an instrument, or dancing.

• they may do a contact sport such as a martial art or rugby.

• may have their emotions very affected by the natural world. Mars doesn't just affect people, all planets also affect nature and the world around us. Places ruled by mars can include cities, electrically active areas e.g. near power lines, transportation like an underground, metro, or Subway, or so on. Mars moon aspects can feel better or worse in their emotions depending on WHERE THEY ARE in the world.

♣︎ Mars square moon may find places with lots of people loud and overwhelming, they may feel better indoors or outdoors but either way this will be in an environment that isn't built up.

♣︎ Mars conjunct moon may find people tell them they dominate the room emotionally. may express their emotions without meaning it.

♣︎ Mars opposition moon may really need peace and quiet to feel like themselves.

♣︎ Mars trine moon may feel like they best express emotions outwardly and this can give them wanderlust, turning them into digital nomads or other creatives who seek out busy environments to inspire them. Think of an artist who gets their best ideas when they sre walking around or travelling on the tube, or a writer who sits in a coffee shop to people watch.

• unfortunately mars moon aspects of all kinds can be prone to being misread by others around them, such as in the case of 'resting b*tch face'

Mars Moon Aspects and Betrayal

This does not necessarily refer to the 'beware the ides of march' style betrayals that were common throughout history BUT this is a great combination of planets to study if you want to write a villanous noble or game of thrones style court intrigue.

In the modern world it can look like:

• mars trine moon may find themselves leaving others behind through their success. whilst nor a betrayal per se, it can be a tough situation to be involved in

• mars opposition moon may find it easier to ghost than face a direct confrontation with people

• mars square moon may come across as too blunt and too confrontational, on the other hand. This can lead to friends and coworkers abandoning them.

• mars conjunct moon may wear their heart on their sleeve and find themselves oblivious to the more subtle signs that people may be overwhelmed by their expressions of feelings or opinions

• depending on the other parts of their chart mars square or opposition moon may find it hard to express their true feelings and may leave friends or lovers as a result.

• In terms of true betrayal mars conjunct moon is most able to be a double agent or live a double life because of their emotional assertiveness even when lying. These people are not insecure at all. They are in fsct very good at using emotions to get what they want.

Your mileage may vary! However I was simply intrigued by how these two planets may interact and so these are predictions only as to patterns and trends that may be found based off a smidgen of observation as well although i don't actually know that many people with this aspect🥀

if you enjoyed check out my pluto observations post here.

[cherry-bomb-ships]

🧡 F/ovember 2024 Pinned!🧡

temporary pinned post - find original here

🍁 Hello, everyone, Ruby here! Welcome to F/ovember 2024!! I'm so excited to see al of the participation this year 🥺🧡 Starting November 6th, I'll be doing an f/o takeover on my own blog all month long!

🍁 ALL of my f/os are available for questions - romantic, platonic, and familial! Check out my Carrd for my full list of f/os, plus my self-insert names. (Quick Guide under the cut)

🍁 If you'd like to join in the festivities, check out the event promo here and the FAQ here! Feel free to look through the tags on this pinned post as well; "f/ovember info" will be all essential posts with helpful information about the event, and "f/ovember promo" will lead you to various promos from other self-shippers as well!

🍁 Even as we enjoy this month, please try to keep Palestine in your hearts and donate to a fundraiser when you can.

🍁 Lastly, this is your reminder to get out there and send out asks, even to folks you don't know! Not only that, but be sure to send an ask back to anyone who send you one! You only get what you give ;3

(Pr*sh//ip please DNI. 🎼Monthly Song:)

Ruby's F/O Quick-List

GUIDE: SOURCE: F/Os; romantic, familial, platonic [S/I NAME]

ACE VENTURA: PET DETECTIVE: Ace Ventura [S/I: Ruby Ramirez]

CRASH BANDICOOT: Dr. Neo Cortex (married), Nina Cortex (daughter) [S/I: Commander R. Marie]

CUPHEAD: The Devil [S/I: Cherry Sunrise]

DELTARUNE: Spamton G. Spamton, The Hometown Kids [S/I: Ruby Ramirez]

HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS (2000): The Grinch [S/I: Ruby]

INDIANA JONES: Dr. Henry "Indiana" Jones Jr. [S/I: Dr. Ruby Ramirez]

LEGEND OF ZELDA: Ganondorf Dragmire [S/I: Ruby]

LUCA: Massimo Marcovaldo, Alberto Scorfano, Luca Paguro, Giulia Marcovaldo (sons & daughter) [S/I: Ruby Ramirez]

MADAGASCAR: Skipper, Kowalski, Rico, Private (brother figures) [S/I: Ruby]

MARIO SERIES: Bowser, Bowser Jr. (son) [S/I: Princess Cherry]

MLP: FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC: Discord [S/I: Ruby Flame]

MYSTERY SKULLS ANIMATED: Arthur Kingsmen, Lewis Pepper (big brother) [S/I: Cherry Pepper]

OVERWATCH: Junkrat (married), Roadhog (father figure), Lucio, D. Va, Cole Cassidy [S/I: Ruby Fawkes-Ramirez]

POWERPUFF GIRLS: Mojo Jojo, The Rowdyruff Boys (sons) [S/I: Cherry Coading]

RESIDENT EVIL: VILLAGE: Lady Alcina Dimitrescu [S/I: Ruby Ramirez]

SCROOGE (2022): Ebenezer Scrooge [S/I: Ruby Ramirez]

SONIC THE HEDGEHOG FILMS: Dr. Ivo Robotnik [S/I: Agent Ruby Ramirez]

SPACE DANDY: Space Dandy, QT, Meow [S/I: Ruby]

STAR TREK: TNG: Q, Worf (brother figure), The Bridge Crew in general [S/I: Lieutenant Jr. Grade Ruby Ramirez]

STAR WARS: Wrecker, The Bad Batch, Omega [S/I: Cheriiz]

STRANGER THINGS: Jim Hopper, Jane "El" Hopper (daughter) [S/I: Ruby Ramirez]

TEAM FORTRESS 2: Sniper [S/I: Merchant], Spy, Medic (father figure) [S/I: Nurse]

TOM AND JERRY: Tom Cat [S/I: Cherry Parfait]

WRECK-IT RALPH: Wreck-it Ralph, Vanellope Von Schweetz (daughter figure) [S/I: Dr. Ruby Redblood]

[risetherivermoon]

agent schmegan...i still think of you...rest in peace my asexual king 😔✌️

[sc-intothedarknightofthesoul]

🤥 LYING 🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE 🍁 MAPLE LEAF 🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL 📣 MEGAPHONE 🌪️ TORNADO 🌈 RAINBOW from OC emoji ask? For either Kasta or Ezra (or both, if it's not too much)

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

Kasta: Their lies are a hit or miss. They're honest to a fault at times, blunt even. There are moments where they get away Scot-free with a white lie. Then comes the times they tell their friends they're fine when they're literally dying on the inside. It drives their travel buddies crazy.

Ezra: There's a reason she's an Imperial Agent in my SWTOR playthrough. Considering the bad crowd she's in and who's the ringleader running that whole show, let's just say she's picked up a few tricks. She's a bit short, but she takes advantage of that and her ladylike mannerisms to assume an innocent persona if it means getting herself out of a sticky situation. It doesn't work on Aval Agents, though.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This is gonna be a long post, so I'll put the rest of the answers under a cut:

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

Kasta: Their birthday is April 2nd (same day as Xianghua), but is born in 1562. For a long time, they didn't like to celebrate it because of the first birthday they had after their father passed away, but that eventually changes as they continue on their journey. It also helped that Xianghua, a friend of Maxi and Kilik, also shares a birthday with them, and they sometimes celebrate it together when they can.

Ezra: Her birthday is September 17th, 1560. She has a habit of being so busy with her tasks that she forgets when her day rolls around, but she does appreciate when someone does wish her a happy birthday. She's not a fan of the parties, tho.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favourite season? why?

Kasta: Spring. It's not too hot, and it's not too cold either. Plus it rains a lot during this time.

Ezra: Autumn. She a lot of the things associated with it, the nice hot chocolate, the colourful leaves falling from the trees, etc. Her better memories happened around this season.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your OC that they don't want to show other people?

Kasta: For the most part, they are a chill person that can easily forgive others for their wrong doings (but they have limits) and people tend to open up to them about their problems or secrets as a result. However, they also have an anxiety problem, which can manifest itself as emotional outbursts of deep seated anger that was built up over time. It's a part of them that they are ashamed of having cos they know that in the end, not only will it not solve their problems anyway, they can't solve every problem.

Ezra: A lot I have in mind for Ezra will be explored further, but for what I shared in the story now is that she prides herself on being a practical thinker, someone who is always checking to see if her head is screwed on at all times. She's also an imaginative thinker too, a mind that has the urge to create and escape to, a mind usually found in fantasy novelists, artists, and musicians, a mind she often brushed aside as childish as there was no room for that in her line of work.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

Funny story, I picked the Taciturn Cynic for Kasta on accident when I played Libra of Soul for the first time. How? A habit I've sort of abandoned a long time ago is that I would turn down my game's volume so I could listen to my music (I can't live without music blaring in my ears 24/7).

Kasta: I'm kinda already satisfied with the voice I already gave them in Create a Soul (Taciturn Cynic), but if I had to pick a voice for Kasta outside of Soul Calibur, it'd sound similar to Jade from Beyond Good and Evil (R.I.P Jodi Forrest, her voice actress):

Ezra: Her voice I'm not completely satisfied with in Soul Calibur cos she actually shares it with Natalie, but if I could pick a voice outside of the game, it would probably sound similar to Beatrice from Over the Garden Wall:

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

Kasta: Oh, the many stories I've told about Kasta's little phoenix moments. First, they were a character I made in TERA Online, then they became a vampire OC based on the vampires from the Legacy of Kain games, then an online persona set in the modern era, and now they are a Soul Calibur OC. The only thing that did not change about them are the moon-shaped horns and their red hair. As for them being a Soul Calibur OC tho, I think I should refer you all to this post of every design change I've made before sticking to the one I've made recently:

Ezra: Compared to Kasta, not much has really changed about Ezra, except her skin got tanner and she became more well-endowed compared to the first time I drew her:

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

Kasta: "You can't save everyone you love. What matters is that you honour them by living in the now."

Ezra: "Just because someone seems friendly and claim they will give you the moon, doesn't always mean well. Show them their true colours by showing them something they like and then tell them no."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thank you so much for the ask! I love going into details about these two as far as I'm able, there's so much more I wanna tell but I don't wanna spoil my fanfic like a dummy.

Ask list is here:

and have a wonderful day or night!

[bottlecaprabbitgames]

Freja and MC making pumpkin spice snacks for everyone and bonding over their love for fall 😭 ❤️ 🍁

i gotchu fam (there's also a short Freja fall scenario on Patreon for $10+ :3)

"${Name}, that's too much pumpkin purée."

You bristle as Freja uses her 'Commanding Agent I'm Right You're Wrong' tone out, and you have to stop yourself from adding more as a reflex. "It'll be fine, Freja. They're pumpkin cookies, for Christ sake."

"Too much moisture will ruin them." She huffs and suddenly a pale, slender hand enters your vision, adding a touch more flour.

Your eye twitches as you set the can down hard and go back to mixing the dough. "Freja, I know how to make cookies."

"Hmph." She doesn't give a real response, but you can practically feel her urge to say otherwise.

Honestly, if she does, you might just dump the entire mixing bowl on her very pale head. You briefly muse about her with striking orange hair, before shaking the thought away before you get too tempted.

"It's mixed enough." You set the bowl down next to the other one which has a pale dough in it. "How exactly are you going to do this?"

"What is it Iri always says? 'No Magus reveals his tricks'?"

"I..." To be fair, that does sound like a way Iri would turn that phrase to befit her more. "I guess? I hope they come out right."

"They will." Her voice has a tone of dismissal, but when you don't leave as you're busy staring at her in disbelief, she adds more politely, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, your Highness." You sarcastically bow before running out of the kitchen as she rears back with a handful of flour.

Well. The cookies definitely turned out right. Pale ghosts sit in the center, with an orange outline you remember mixing the dough for. They're cute and tasty.

Now, to keep Blake and Iri from eating them all.

You smack Blake's hand as he goes for the pile you specifically left aside for Loche. "No. Bad werewolf."

"Excuse me? Did you just-"

"Do you think you can teach him some tricks, ${Name}?" Fawn asks casually, a glass of wine in one hand and a cookie in the other. "I'd particularly pay to see him learn to fetch."

You feign a thoughtful look, rubbing your chin as you look at Blake, his face growing steadily more outraged. "I could definitely try..."

"Just throw a bag of salt and vinegar chips or some snack cakes, he'll learn quickly enough," Freja comments dryly as she enters from the kitchen, carrying another tray of cookies.

Everyone but Blake and Freja cackles, but Freja does have a small smirk on her lips.

"Oh, you are so regretting that," Blake threatens, glaring at her.

She narrows her eyes... then scoffs. "Oh, please, you great big teddy bear. What're you going to do?"

"Pelt you with stuffing?" Iris offers, grinning when Blake turns on her... less so when he tackles her over the couch.

Let chaos ensue.

[rainintheevening]

🍁🍁Comfy-vember🍁🍁

Day 1: New Day

Grant Ward & Phil Coulson, Agents of SHIELD, AU

-----

"Old habits die hard."

Grant smiled involuntarily, inhaling the steam rising off his coffee. "Speak for yourself." He glanced up, watching Coulson select a mug bearing the red and blue Captain America shield and pour his own drink, add the one sugar, the dash of milk.

Routine, comforting.

I missed you, burned on the tip of his tongue, but he'd already said it enough.

He had woken at take-off, and Agent May had already come and gone with her morning beverage, apparently preferring the solace of the cockpit, even with the Bus on autopilot.

"What are you reading?" Coulson sat next to him at the galley bar, glanced over.

Grant flipped the front half of the book up so he could see the cover. David Grossman's On Combat. "Re-read. Think I'll make it Skye's first required read."

Coulson's eyes flicked up to hold Grant's, a probing look, before a smile flickered across his face. "Good idea. Maybe balance it with Jane Austen though?"

Grant snorted a laugh. "There's a reason I hated English, you know."

"Really?" A raised eyebrow. "And here I thought you liked reading."

"Come on. I only survived senior year Shakespeare because we got to put on our own version of Julius Cesar, and I got to be stabbed."

"You were good at that." Coulson blew on his coffee, smiling a little, gaze unfocused as if remembering.

A sudden ache in his throat, and Grant had to look away, down at the page he could no longer read. Sure, it had been almost a week since the man he called "Dad" had returned from the dead. But it had been an incredibly hectic week, with Rising Tide hackers and exploding people, and even now they were bound for Costa Rica to assess a good old 0-8-4. This was the first time they'd had a morning like this, slow and easy, coffee and a book and quiet banter.

He wished it could last forever, the way it had seemed to when he was 17, and the summer sun was barely up, and he was raring to be off to his job at Bell's Hardware. But he wasn't 17 anymore, and this wasn't Klamath Falls, and much as he loved his job he never knew what might happen in a day.

"Do you think Skye's settling in alright?"

He blinked back his surge of emotion, focused on Coulson's question.

Skye. Right. "I think so." She could be annoying and juvenile, but Grant had started to respect her smarts, and she could be funny too. "She has no idea how to cook though," he added. "Other than boxed mac and cheese, and microwave meals."

"You can teach her."

The confidence in Coulson's voice warmed Grant as much as his first sip of coffee.

He'd had some good teachers—Coulson, of course; Agent Huff in his first year at the Academy; and his own SO, John Garrett. But he'd never been in the position of passing on that knowledge to someone else. What if he got it wrong? What if he got her killed?

That thought had him swallowing harder than necessary. "You sure, Dad?" It came out quieter than he liked.

"Of course." A hand came to rest on his shoulder, squeezed gently. "I wouldn't give you the job if I didn't think you could do it." An old familiar phrase, and Grant couldn't answer, merely nodding his head a few times.

He would never be able to express his gratitude for having his dad back, never.

"Alright, son?"

Grant cleared his throat, turned his head away to knuckle some moisture from his eyes. "Yeah," he muttered. He glanced at Coulson, summoning a little grin. "You're on breakfast duty, you know. When was the last time you made French toast? Or do I need to teach you that?"

A snort of laughter, before Coulson cuffed him gently on the head. "Young punk," he muttered.

The smell of cooking pulled the others from their bunks, and Coulson quickly found himself swamped in the tiny galley.

Grant found himself laughing at the near-chaos, and met Coulson's gaze with a little salute of his mug across the room, before he polished off the last mouthful of coffee.

Sure it was a different morning than the ones they'd once had. But that didn't mean it couldn't be good.

[gyuunyuumiya]

Konoha but make it agents/crime/whatever au 🍁