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#mission fic
elektraking · 2 months
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for @sambuckylibrary Valentines Day 2024 Bingo
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sambucky 🎶anytime anyplace🎶
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Bingo card fill: Mission Fic 💜
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thatmexisaurusrex · 2 months
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Captain Meets Soldier
Hey! This fic is for @quimbolgees! But it’s also for @sambuckylibrary’s SamBucky Valentine’s Bingo 2024 for the prompt on Creator Card #2 - “Mission fic”. Enjoy! 🥰
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Captain Meets Soldier
| Pairing: SamBucky | Rated: T | WC: 4.3K |
Summary: What if Steve was never frozen, Isaiah was known to the public as the second Captain America, Sam took up the position after Isaiah, Sam recruited Karli to his team after saving her from the Thunderbolts, and Sam met the Winter Soldier while busting a Thunderbolts mission?
Excerpt:
Could he really be a good man as Karli said? Sam could sneak up on this man. Sure, he was a super soldier, if what Karli said was true, but Sam could probably take him by surprise and drag him out without the rest of his team knowing that Sam did it. That was probably the smarter thing to do. But it didn’t feel right to do that. So, Sam said into the silence, “It’s a pretty expansive library.” The Winter Soldier startled, dropping the book he had in his fingerless gloved hands. He stared at Sam; Sam couldn’t see the man’s eyes, but something about the way the Winter Soldier looked was piercing. “Karli said you needed saving,” said Sam as he stepped into the library; closer to the Winter Soldier, “Is that true?” “Karli?” echoed the man, his voice muffled by the muzzle and croaky; as if he hadn’t spoken in ages. The voice seemed familiar. As if Sam had heard it before. But where would Sam had heard it?
READ THE REST AT AO3!
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funsized-loser · 2 months
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For @sambuckylibrary SamBucky Valentine's Day Bingo 2024
Commenter Card 2: Mission fic
Some mission fic recs! Again, this will just be part one.
Deception by @siancore Rated E| 22 chapters| 79K words
Bucky is an assassin hired to kill the prince of Wakanda. Sam is the SHIELD agent assigned to protect the prince of Wakanda. The drama, the passion--can be very dark at moments, but just read it!!!
Spycraft for Beginners by swiftrax Rated E| 12 chapters | 48K words
Sam and Bucky have to clear Bucky's name after he's framed for espionage. This fic features beautiful artwork as well, and a very practical counter-espionage tactic.
Somebody that I Used to Know by @spinachgarden Rated E| 36 chapters | 76K words
Sam and Bucky are thrown through a portal into another universe--a universe with Captain Carter, where Riley is the Falcon, and Yelena is the Black Widow. Time to take down HYDRA!
Hasta La Vista, Baby by @six2vii Rated M| 7K words
Bucky travels back in time to stop an HYDRA from killing a young Sam Wilson. There's a moment of clarity for Bucky and the assassin* that gets me choked up every time I read this!
the more you say the less i know (wherever you stray, i follow) by @notcaycepollard
Rated M| 22K words
What if Sam met the Winter Soldier while in the Air Force and they end up on the run together following Riley's death? Sorry, that's a terrible summary, but it is a great journey for them.
Eloise, Luca and Peacock: Things that Oakley Loves by @six2vii Rated E| 7 chapters| 27K words
Recovery mission, treasure hunt, and Nick Fury refusing to deal with Sam's soap opera love life!
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alidravana · 3 months
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Have posted a handful of GhostSoap threads over on twitter but not on tumblr, so thought I would share here too!
This one is pre-GhostSoap, with content warnings for implied past child abuse (Ghost) and current child abuse (no details). Just over 600 words. Please see below the cut for more!
Soap shifted uneasily as he watched Ghost through his binoculars.  He should have been watching the store front; him and Ghost having been assigned surveillance on the company across the street, Laswell convinced that it was a front for one of Markarov’s many businesses.
But Ghost was still speaking to a younger teen, just around the corner from their apartment building entrance.  He had already let the youngster bum a cigarette off of him, and now was nodding as the boy talked animatedly about something or other.
It was strange, Soap thought to himself, as he watched Ghost interact easily with the teenager, as he never considered Ghost to be good with kids, especially the way the new recruits seem to cower in fear before the LT even uttered a word in front of them.
He watched as Ghost crushed the last of his cigarette on the sidewalk under his boot, reaching into his pocket and passing money and what looked like a business card over to the kid before heading inside.  
Quickly shifting in the arm chair that they had pulled closer to the window, Soap resumed looking across at the company, noting that once again, all the lights were out, and there was no movement.  He heard the quiet creak of the front door, and Ghost shuffling in, dumping his wallet and keys on the table.
Soap should have asked him about his day, how the touch point with Laswell’s runner went, or even what the weather was like, but instead he blurted out what was on the top of his mind.  “Who’s the kid?”
Ghost let out a low chuckle.  “Watching me, Johnny?  Thought you had more important things to be doing.”
Soap snuck a peek over at his Lieutenant, easily clocking Ghost’s tight lips and narrowed eyes, but pushed further.  “Thought you had more important things to be doing too,” he replied carefully, not wanting to seem too aggressive in his response.
“Don’t worry about me, Sergeant,” Ghost said firmly, turning to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, which he tossed in Soap’s direction, Soap scrambling to catch it in time and not drop the binoculars.  “Wake me up when it’s time to switch,” he added, turning and heading into the small bedroom that they were stuck sharing.
Soap didn’t think much of the encounter again until one night, he was woken up by the sound of Ghost’s cell phone ringing.  Assuming that it was Laswell or Price calling with an update, Soap started towards the kitchen when suddenly he heard the teenager’s voice, whispering through the phone, an occasional sob breaking through.
“I’ll be right there.” Ghost replied, and stood up, tucking his weapon into his back pocket, and reaching for his jacket only to find Soap standing there instead.
“Don’t you have more important things to be doing?” Soap asked, his arms folded in front of him as he looked up at Ghost.  He knew the teen sounded upset, but this wasn’t the time to be getting involved in something that would mess up their operation.
“No.” Ghost said curtly, motioning for Soap to move.  
“Ghost, we can’t have our covers blown,” Soap insisted, handing over Ghost’s jacket but continued to block his way to the front door.
“No Johnny, we can’t.  But I also can’t sit here and do nothing,” Ghost snapped, shrugging on his jacket.  “That kid needs to get someplace safe, away from his parents, and I’m not going to be one of those people who knows what’s going on, and does shit all about it.”
Everything fell into place.  How frequently Ghost checked in on the teen.  The business card that was exchanged.  And the pain that Soap could hear in Ghost’s own words, made his chest ache.  Nothing more needed to be said.  
Soap nodded, reaching behind him to grab his own jacket, and motioned for Ghost to pass him his weapon.  “I got your six, LT.  Let’s go.”
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greenroseunderglass · 1 month
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Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Janice Rand & Nyota Uhura Characters: Janice Rand, Nyota Uhura, James T. Kirk, Spock (Star Trek), Giotto (Star Trek) Additional Tags: Mission Fic Summary:
Yeoman Rand has decided she wants to be an officer.
@startrekwintergiftexchange @tigerexe
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unstable-reality · 6 months
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Janos City Blues - Chapter One
Hello there! :) This is the first chapter in what I expect to be a lengthy RebelCaptain piece, featuring an off-schedule revolution, intrigue, Bothans, and slow burn romance.
Here's the setup: Jyn and Cassian have been sent to Janos City to disrupt the already-troubled Lant Mining Corporation's operations, and to help a group of on-the-ground agents foment insurrection. Revolutions, however, cannot be controlled...
As a heads up, this piece is going to be very class-forward. The mission itself is also ethically problematic (as the Alliance can sometimes be), which I'm going to do my best to tackle appropriately. The M rating is "just in case." And Bodhi will definitely be making an appearance. :)
All right, I think that covers it! Without further adieu...
The ship’s air was still and stagnant, and her feet clung to the memory of the engine’s hum. They’d been traveling for nearly two days. Time enough to absorb the rhythms of the ship, to get inured to the rush of stars, to sit and to think and to long for solid ground. She looked up. Through the porthole to her left, she could see planetside sights: the dance of aircraft, a layer of clouds, the spire of a tower, ringed by red lights. Should’ve been a relief, that they were about to disembark. She wasn’t nervous. Well, maybe she was, but she’d never call it that. Cassian stood a pace back from the hatch, half one ahead of her, his suitcase - sleek, square, modern, the sort that came with a matching set - hanging stiffly from his hand. She took in the whole of him, and frowned. “Soften your aureks.” Cassian stopped short. “What?” It had taken Jyn until now to put words to it. He hadn’t asked her for help, per se, but early on, he’d mentioned he hadn’t used his Coruscanti accent in a while, and then had stopped using his own voice altogether. It didn’t take a genius to read between the lines. “Your aureks,” she said. “They’re a little hard.” He regarded her for a moment, long enough for her to doubt. At length, he nodded, smiled slightly. “Thank you.” Decently said, accent-wise. “Sure.” There were implications to him valuing her input on this, some more significant than others. She ignored them.
[Continue reading on AO3]
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earlgreyinpajamas · 11 months
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OH DUDE I LOVED “Call Me Darling, I Come Running”, it was such a good rec, ty! Any similar fic recs? :)
In The Night Away We'd Fly by blackidyll (@blackidyll)
"People are starting to talk," Bond says, "about the young man who prefers the company of the dead in a deserted cemetery than the living, breathing villagers in the tea rooms that Millet prides itself on."
"I thought a gothic mystique fits in quite well with the image of a writer," Q replies. "Or did you have something else in mind when you professed me a poet?"
"I always associate you and your laptop with your office or lab, so – cluttered desk space, dim room lightning with only a single lamp on to illuminate your work, and a mug of tea for company. This—" Bond tilts his head to indicate the cemetery around them "—is a world apart from that environment."
"Is it?" Q smiles. "I find the solitude quite similar."
(When MI6 sends Q to the countryside for his own protection against Spectre's retaliation, it is not so much a short-term undercover assignment as it is a glimpse of an alternate life that Q could have had – just with the additional presence of one meddlesome Double-O agent).
~~~
fake relationship for official business is probably one of my fav tropes for them
2. Homemaking by SylvanWitch
Undercover as Bond's lover to root out a mole in MI-6, Q discovers that there is more to James Bond than sex and violence. Unfortunately, Q ends up with far more experience of the one than the other as they find themselves out in the cold, unable to trust anyone from the home office, and relying only on each other to uncover the identity of their deadly opponent.
~~~
character development AND betrayal!!!
3. Forget The Plan (Apparently) by SolarMorrigan (@solarmorrigan)
Bond and Q go undercover as a couple in order to get some information. Some creative problem solving takes place
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you gotta love q playing the bond girl
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gun-roswell · 9 days
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Clone Trooper Boil & Clone Trooper Waxer (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Boil/Clone Trooper Waxer (Star Wars) Characters: Clone Trooper Waxer (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Boil (Star Wars), Other Star Wars Character(s) Additional Tags: Waxer/Boil Month, Cloneshipping | Clone Trooper/Clone Trooper Relationships (Star Wars), Part of Series, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Order 66 Didn't Happen (Star Wars), Mission Fic, Sort Of, they're still split up, they're getting along, poor attempts of humour Series: Part 11 of Waxer/Boil, Part 7 of Waxer/Boil Month 2024 Summary:
Week 2 prompt: huddling for warmth/safety.
Huddled for warmth while waiting for that pickup to come after their somewhat easy and surprisingly effortless jailbreak. The two totally having winged it right there on the spot.
There are poor attempts of humour found in this tale.
The continued saga of Waxer and Boil.
Part of Waxer/Boil Month 2024 // Waxer/Boil series
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merry-chissmas · 4 months
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Merry Chissmas: December 5: From Bextia
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Eli's diary (928 words) by bextia Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017), Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy Trilogy - Timothy Zahn Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo & Eli Vanto, Ar'alani & Eli Vanto Characters: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Ar'alani (Star Wars), Eli Vanto, Eli Vanto's Parents Additional Tags: Chissmas 2023, Diary, Chiss culture, Culture Shock, race differences, alien - Freeform Summary: My take for 2023 Chissmas. Let's see how many boxes do I get to tick off my bingo card!!
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sanerontheinside · 6 months
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Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dooku/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, Dooku (Star Wars), Sheev Palpatine, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Mission Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Inspired by Alfred Hitchcock, Notorious (1946) - Freeform, Omega Obi-Wan Kenobi, Alpha Qui-Gon Jinn, Alpha Dooku (Star Wars)
Summary:
The verdict had been a foregone conclusion. Obi-Wan had come to the court to hear it delivered—expecting, or perhaps hoping, to feel relief. He wanted to be free of this nightmare, wanted to wake up the next morning to a normal life with a normal job, in a place where no one knew his face or his name. Where no one would know him as the son of a traitor.
There was no relief to be found here. Out of the corner of his eye, past the line of reporters jockeying for a good holopic, he could see two men in plain clothes, whispering among themselves and eyeing him.
Obi-Wan had had more than enough of that sort of attention in the last year.
Obi-Wan tries to get out from under the weight of his father's shame. He gets an offer of assistance from an unexpected source—but like anything else it comes at a price.
My submission for the 2023 QuiObi Big Bang @qobb, in partnership with @bereweillschmidt and @shukruut. Beta’d, enabled, and improved by @firondoiel 
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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 months
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YOTP - January
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So, let's start this off with Farawyn. It's a continuation of this story!
So, that kicks off YOTP...Stay tuned for February!
Pairing: Faramir x Éowyn
Prompts: First Kiss, Mission Fic, Fake Dating, Historical AU, Snow, "Whenever I look at you"
Words: 2 050
Warnings: /
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Éowyn knew that something was the matter as soon as Faramir entered the room they shared—his cheeks turned bright red as soon as he saw her sitting there, darning her own socks, evidently lying in wait for him.
“Did you get your grades?” she asked breathlessly and threw her handiwork to the floor to wave a thick piece of paper in front of his widening eyes. “I did very well.”
“Of course, you did,” he replied warmly. The enthusiastic joy in her voice thawed him instantly, and he gave a long, weary sigh. “You have never given me any reason to regret breaking I don’t know how many laws.”
“You know exactly how many.” Leaning back against the wall, Éowyn motioned at the cold supper their landlords had brought up and cocked her head. “What ails you, friend?”
“Nothing that should preoccupy you,” he said hastily and turned to the old table to pretend to fix himself a plate.
With a soft snort of affectionate derision, Éowyn sprang to her feet and gave his shoulder an encouraging push. “You’ve made my dearest wish come true—I am in your debt.” When his tense posture did not relent, she made a small cooing sound.
“Jest aside, Faramir. You can tell me what weighs on you—if at all possible, I shall endeavour to help you!”
“You cannot,” he groaned. “I’ve just received a letter from my father, informing me that I am to attend the Winter Ball in Minas Tirith. I don’t understand why he’d want me there—I’ll only embarrass him by awkwardly lurking in a corner.”
As he spoke, he gestured with a piece of soft bread, and—taunted by the repetitive motion and the alluring smell—Éowyn simply took a bite out of it.
Chewing in pensive silence, she looked on helplessly as Faramir became increasingly agitated.
“And he’ll certainly expect me to dance with all the eligible ladies who will then make faces at me because they actually wanted to dance with my brother instead…”
“I can come with you!”
In the sudden, deafening silence, one would have been able to hear a single pin drop to the impeccably swept floor.
“I beg your pardon?” Faramir gaped at her in evident disbelief.
“Every day, we pretend—with much success if I may say so myself—that I am a young gentleman. You treat me as a cherished friend, and it is your acceptance and encouragement that keep our wicked ruse alive,” Éowyn explained in a voice that was ripe with self-evident smugness. “I would not do this for a lesser friend, but—for you and in return for your endless kindness—I shall change my costume and pretend to be an accomplished lady.”
Faramir then realised that he had never investigated where the enchantingly versatile creature with whom he shared his room, his studies, and his secrets came from exactly.
“Don’t stare at me so,” she exclaimed, cackling wildly. “I can wear my frilliest dress and sit prettily. After all these months, you’d still doubt my abilities as an actor?”
“I wouldn’t dare!” Faramir replied vehemently, but they both knew that he was lying. While he did not put her skills as a scholar, sportsman, or satirist into question, he was not entirely certain whether the same fey changeling who had infiltrated the seminary would be able to sit through a whole dinner during which people much less smart and educated than her would patronise her cruelly.
“Then it’s decided,” Éowyn declared. “I will make it my solemn mission to convince your father of the fact that I am on the verge of ruining my name and my reputation for your admiration and affection!”
Aghast, he threw the remnant of his bread at her. “Do not! He’d never believe that!”
“That, my friend, remains to be seen!”
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Faramir paced nervously through the hallway; even if they were to leave right away, they’d be fashionably late for the grand opening of his father’s cherished ball.
“You can blame me,” a soft, sensual voice resounded behind him, and he instantly whirled around. “How do I look? Convincing?”
Swallowing thickly, the young scholar ran a trembling hand across his suddenly uncomfortably numb lips.
He had known Éowyn for months—they had shared many a joke and had brooded over partially incomprehensible texts side by side. A mere five minutes ago, he would have boldly and unwaveringly claimed that he was intimately familiar with every facet of her being.
This, as it turned out, was not so.
Before him, bathed in the soft glow of the forgotten lamp on their shared desk, stood a young lady.
“You’ll have to carry me to the carriage,” Éowyn laughed and pointed at the delicate silken shoes she was wearing, revealing slender ankles clad in a powdery, translucent layer of impossibly thin fabric that made Faramir’s heart skip a beat. “Henceforth, you might be able to better appreciate why I avoid conforming to the farce that is ‘appropriate’, ladylike garb too often—it’s laughably unpractical.”
Extending his arms, Faramir was presently not convinced that he’d be able to support the weight of a feather, let alone this wondrous creature gleaming with self-satisfied triumph.
“I clean up nicely, don’t you think?” she teased and patted the complicated updo into which she had wrestled her stubborn, flaxen hair through some impressive display of hitherto unrevealed masterfulness.
“You look stunning,” Faramir whispered, utterly awed.
“Ah!” Frowning, she walked past him and down the stairs, her head held high and her chin jutting out petulantly. “Am I to surmise then that you’re no better than my uncle’s most duplicitous courtiers?”
Despite her forcibly teasing tone, Faramir could tell that she was genuinely hurt.
“I do not know the good men,” he replied cautiously. “Nevertheless, I merely sought to compliment you on yet another wonderfully executed disguise.”
Huffing, she threw open the front door and grimaced at the thin, slick layer of snow that would delay them even further.
“Milady,” Faramir invited coyly and assumed the necessary posture once more to lift her into his arms and ferry her over to the waiting carriage without creasing her dress or damaging any other adornment overmuch.
He had to suppress another tremor of unidentifiable unease—Éowyn felt soft and supple in his arms, and a discreet smell of wild lilacs and river grass tickled his nose.
In truth, all his senses were entirely taken over by the complex beauty of the one he was holding as if she was made of glass and ice crystals, and yet he couldn’t deny the surge of instinctive reluctance taking hold of his heart.
“I wish you didn’t have to do this,” he whispered dejectedly as they started rumbling along the merciless, frozen path in jolting fits and bursts.
“Béma—we would have made better time on horseback without—”
“Not in that dress, dear,” Faramir interrupted gently. “Anyhow, I doubt that anyone is expecting my arrival anxiously.”
“Fools,” Éowyn declared haughtily and pushed a stray pin back into her ornate coiffure. “Having had the pleasure of your company for many a night now, I can vouch for your excellence as a conversation and study partner!”
Despite suspecting that she was lying to assuage his mounting anxiousness, Faramir felt considerably heartened by her words and smiled at her gratefully.
The rest of their journey was spent in companionable silence; each was mentally preparing for the great unknown that was awaiting them.
When the carriage came to a sliding halt and a young man with impeccably polished buttons and fastenings opened the door to help the latecomers alight, Éowyn nodded at Faramir encouragingly. “Same as before.”
It was undignified to have to be carried thus, but Éowyn was nothing if not steadfast in her resolutions and brave in the name of duty and loyalty—looking up at Faramir’s tense, pale face, leisurely, she was reminded once more of how unobtrusively handsome her roommate was.
Of course, she usually did not waste any time or thoughts on his countless qualities—the man was her most trusted confidant, he not only knew about her devious charade, no, he actively facilitated and endorsed it.
Surely, he would never see her as anything other than a rebellious, reckless fool.
At times, Éowyn earnestly regretted the fact that the only man she had ever liked enough to consider him as a romantic partner had been made irreversibly inaccessible by her achieving her most cherished dream,
She sighed softly. Her uncle was right—she was a selfish creature, and she had sacrificed the matrimonial bliss she owed to her name, her family, and her sex on the altar of her personal fulfilment.
“We’re almost inside,” Faramir whispered, hastening his steps. He had mistaken her shivering exhalation as an expression of dismay on account of the blistering cold air and felt bad for her.
Indeed, while he was wrapped in a thick coat, Éowyn had only been able to conjure up a woefully flimsy shawl.
“You’re right,” he admitted as he set her down carefully inside the brightly lit foyer. “These clothes are ludicrous! I shall give you my coat for the ride home! You’ll catch your death in that!”
“It matches the dress,” she shot back defensively, fussing with the delicate fabric ostentatiously.
“Humbug!”
Chuckling, Éowyn allowed herself the treacherous indulgence of touching her cheek to his shoulder briefly—then, the doors swung open, and they stepped into a lavish ballroom.
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“Oh no,” Éowyn whispered, gripping Faramir’s arm with unladylike strength and vehemence. “My brother is here!”
He turned his head a fraction to glimpse a tall, broad-shouldered paragon of strength, smiling at them.
“I was under the impression that you were devoted to him—why are you upset?” Faramir pointedly avoided looking at her face—flushed from the heat and radiant with virginal fairness—as she insisted on mooning at him in a shamelessly exaggerated display of admiration and unspoken affection.
At least, he thought her demeanour to be hardly credible—his father and brother, on the other hand, had smirked at him and clapped congratulatory hands onto his stiff shoulders.
In his heart of hearts, he was dismayed and disgruntled by the discovery that—while his academic prowess and the deep, meaningful friendship he had established with the authentic Éowyn meant nothing to them—the simple act of parading a handsome maiden at a lavish feast seemed to suffice to gain their approval.
“I do love him,” Éowyn replied in a hushed hiss. “But his being here means that I’ll have to up the ante if I want to be believed.”
“You don’t have to—”
“You’ve once told me that we were in this together,” she said softly and cupped Faramir’s burning cheek tenderly. “Allow me to reciprocate that sentiment and battle cry.”
Pushing herself up on her tiptoes, she cocked her head to the side, her hair glistening like pure spun gold in the flickering light of the sconces. “Can you pretend for a moment that I am pretty? No doubt, my valiant effort in the defence of your reputation would earn me so minor a boon?”
“There shall be no need to pretend. I marvel at your beauty whenever I look at you,” Faramir answered before his mind could censor his tongue, loosened by the glowing atmosphere of the room and the double-edged victory of the night.
Éowyn blinked. “Whenever?” she then asked demurely, colour flaring in her cheeks.
“You look stunning tonight,” Faramir grinned, elated that he got the opportunity to set right his previous misstep. “The dress compliments your smile. Nevertheless, I would be a poor friend and a despicably shallow nincompoop if such caparison was needed to alert me to the rare beauty of one I see every day in all her glory.”
Shining brighter than all the gold in the room, Éowyn brushed her now flawlessly clean thumbs against his bearded jaw to tilt his head back.
“I was right,” she crooned. “You are the most precious! I’ll have you know that I love being right!”
Before Faramir could assure her that he was well-aware of that fact, she had drawn herself up further and pressed her lips against his in a kiss that spoke of deep trust, enduring loyalty, and nascent love.
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My very dear readers; I hope this has been enjoyable!
-> Masterlist
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kira-nerys-rocks · 5 months
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Katoberfest Day 8: Mission Fic
(Or: the fic I had originally planned to post on Friday but I only finished it yesterday)
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The Taste of Her Lips
Kat and Mirror Philippa Georgiou travel to Earth for a meeting with Starfleet Command. Kat misses Prime Philippa who used to be her wife. When a problem occurs, they are forced to huddle together for warmth until they are rescued. Add whiskey and you get a recipe for some kind of disaster...
Written for the admiral challenge with the prompts: Mission Fic, Cold Space, Cuddling for Warmth, First Kiss, Only One Bed
Read the fanfic on ao3
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thatmexisaurusrex · 7 months
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Close Quarters
This is for @sumbacky who I told over a month ago that I was inspired by their art and finally got around to writing the dang fic 😂 This is also for @samsseptember's Day 10 "Mission" prompt. Enjoy! 🥰
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Close Quarters
| Pairing: SamBucky | Rated: T | WC: 1.4K |
Summary: Sam and Bucky hide in a closet until the coast is clear. Based on Lynette's "stuck in a tight space" SamBucky art.
Excerpt:
Bucky couldn’t help but feel the heat rushing to his cheeks; the blush bloomed and spread as he watched the adorable gap in Sam’s teeth while Sam talked to Joaquín over comms; at Sam’s glistening lips as Sam smiled; gazed into Sam’s deep, rich brown eyes, like two bouquets of True Love Hellebores. “What?” Sam whispered. Cutting through the drum concert in Bucky’s chest. A curious hitch to Sam’s voice. A big smile. A quirk of Sam’s eyebrow. Sam. Watching Bucky. Waiting for Bucky to say something, anything back.
READ THE REST ON AO3!
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mirrorofliterature · 7 months
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in search of salvation
bill & oliver | mission fic and character study | 3.1k | rated t
How many things has Percy told Oliver about their family? How many secrets does Oliver hold, things Bill holds close to his chest?
Bill feels unbalanced. It is not about the tea, not really
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Fighting a war isn't all glamorous battles. For Bill Weasley, early 1997 is marked by a long, tireless search for a cave cursed by Voldemort alongside none other than Oliver Wood, his estranged brother Percy's best friend.
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My fic written for the 2023 untagged fest and it's finally revealed. It was so much fun participating!
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baubeautyandthegeek · 5 months
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Missions And Motherhood - Katrina Cornwell/Una Chin-Riley
A/N: Day 6 for @theadmiralslegion 's Katoberfest 2023.
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Later Kat would admit she doesn’t know what leads her to scoop the sobbing Illyrian child into her arms as they ran, choosing to save the child even as she made for the exit. The girl is tiny, terrified and clings to Kat even as Una stares at her when she emerges from the caves with the little girl in her arms. “The mission was to… stop this happening…” Kat sounds sad and Una nods, barely stifling her own obvious pain even as she moves to stroke the girl’s hair, noting the soft glow and murmuring softly to the child. “Looks like we have someone who needs us at least… what’s your name little one?” “Liara…” The girl’s voice is soft, meek and Kat smiles just slightly when the girl rests her head on her shoulder. “Well, Liara, would you like to come back with us… or we can find you someone here to take care of you…?” “I wanna come with you.” The mission had been a mistake, Kat thinks. Liara’s mother, Kinadi, had trusted them and died for their mission, now Liara would need a new home. A home, she thinks, with them. She will find a way to make the girl feel safe, somehow. “Okay Sweetheart… you can come back with us.” Kat promises, watching Una’s smile flicker into being before adding. “You won’t even be the only Illyrian…” “I won’t?” Liara asks and Kat chuckles then. “Una?” “It’s true Liara….” Liara giggles then, her smile sweet and soft. “So I can have two mommies now?” “Yes Liara.” Una smiles, noting the girl’s grin. “You’ll have two mommies.” Later, the girl tucked safely into a makeshift bed on the sofa, Kat watches Una with the girl and wonders how she got so lucky, her voice soft when Una moves to kiss her softly. “You are… incredible Katrina Cornwell…” “She deserved to live…. I know her mom died for us but she… she looks like you.” Kat’s smile softens. “Almost like we were supposed to find her…”
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samsseptember · 7 months
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September 10 - Cap Quartet 2.0 | Mission Fic
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