creaky_crow



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  1. Rec 58

    Transcendent Humanity by

    Fandoms: Mass Effect Trilogy  

    29 Sep 2022

    Tags
    Summary

    Humanity never developed FTL. The Prothean archives contained no technology, no Element Zero, just a warning. Isolated from the rest of the galaxy for two thousand years, restricted to their only system, how will humanity have changed when they first meet the Turians? AU, alternate history of humanity and First Contact.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    77,824
    Chapters:
    27/27
    Collections:
    1
    Comments:
    32
    Kudos:
    153
    Bookmarks:
    58
    Hits:
    4,904
    Bookmarked by creaky_crow

    08 Jul 2023

    Bookmarker's Tags:
    Bookmarker's Notes

    Whiskey stared at Envoy.
    After the diplomatic meeting, Envoy had again requested access to a home-body. For all that the geth felt no emotion, it had been quite emphatic about it. Whiskey had let it have access to one of hers, and so she currently sat opposite her identical twin. Pale skin, silver hair and neon-blue eyes; Whiskey had designed her home-body to declare her Ghost-hood to anyone who saw it.

    In Envoy's hands was a piece of toast. After the first hour of adapting to organic sensation, she had enquired about it, out of curiosity at Whiskey's earlier remark. The toast was held in two hands, delicately grasped at opposite corners. It made a perfect diamond shape, with the exception of a single bite taken out of the top corner. Envoy's eyes stared off into unknowable distances. Whiskey continued to wait, as she had been since that bite had been taken, two minutes ago.

    Envoy's mouth chewed once, slowly. There was an odd tremor in her hands.

    Smiling, Whiskey slid a jar of jam forwards.

    . . .

    “Envoy, remember what I said about calling people drones?” said Whiskey. The question was rhetorical. Envoy remembered everything.

    “Yes, Whiskey-Ghost.” responded Envoy. Almost too faint to see, the corners of Envoy's lips curved.

    Whiskey sighed, and sipped her coffee à la asari. Envoy had been developing a sense of humour, if one could call it that. The geth had actually read several dozen scientific articles on the anatomy of what humans considered humour first. Her taste in jokes was either extremely dry and subtle, or incredibly crude. Whiskey first noticed it when Envoy's social skills began to regress. Say what you want about the geth, but they didn't get worse at things. They might never get better, but they couldn't actually start being more terrible at something unless it was on purpose.

    . . .

    Envoy was still for another long minute. Finally, she spoke.

    “In this platform's notation, the decision weighting number given to the survival of the geth race is 10. This platform and its runtimes' survival is weighted at 3.”

    Envoy looked up at Whiskey.

    “Whiskey-Ghost's survival is weighted at 7.”

    Whiskey swallowed hard, and thanked the Voice she had a decent level of control over her autonomic systems. She'd hate to ruin this by tearing up.

    “That's...thank you, Envoy. I never knew how much I meant to you.”

    “You aided the geth in breaking our isolation. You stood by us as we learned and struggled. You fought for us. You cared for us. We have not been blind to the difficulty we have caused. But you have supported us regardless. You are important to us, Whiskey.”

    “So, does that mean you'll think about my offer?”

    Envoy's head tilted, and her eyebrows lifted. “We might have rejected it, had it come from any other human to any other geth. We trust you, Whiskey.”
    Envoy shook her head slowly. “We are having difficulty. The majority of the consensus has previously expressed concern that this platform is becoming corrupted by its organic nature.”

    “You ran on different hardware for a while. Hardware that let long nascent parts of you finally grow. The geth were always moving towards full sapience, Envoy. You will just be the first.” said Whiskey, her hand still on Envoy's. She leaned in closer.

    “Let's get out of here,” Whiskey whispered. “Not just this cafe, let's dump these bodies and get back to cyberspace. Let's have the rest of this conversation without organic bodies, and you'll see that emotions aren't something unique to flesh. They're part of a soul, Envoy. And I know you have one.”

    Envoy looked into Whiskey's eyes for a moment, then at her chai, now cold.

    “We will return though, Whiskey. We still have not finished our catalogue of human consumables.”

    Whiskey laughed. “Of course we can come back. But,” she said, “we'll get you a new body of your own. I'm not that in love with myself.”

    Envoy smiled slightly, and Whiskey knew it was a genuine smile, not just a triggered social cue.

    “We would be interested in designing our own, but would welcome your input.”

    “Sure. That's what we were asking for in the first place.” Whiskey answered.

    Envoy nodded. “We must build consensus, but we-this platform-” Envoy stopped. Slowly and questioningly, she said “I? I... would be happy to create additional runtimes with you.”

    Whiskey grinned. “Well, let's have a date or two first, yeah?”

    As Whiskey dropped the privacy sphere and they stood to leave, she could almost have sworn she saw Envoy blush faintly.

    . . .

    oh my gods they were lesbians 😭😭😭

    i love this story so so so much. i. don't have the words to adequately express my feelings about it. it drives me fucking insane

    2025, December 21. 13:57 (1:57 PM)

    I'm gonna reread this.

  2. Public Bookmark *

    Say It Out Loud by

    Fandoms: Megamind (2010)  

    29 Mar 2016

    Tags
    Summary

    Roxanne is harassed by a fellow reporter who doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of the word ‘no’. Megamind punches him. Roxanne would like Megamind to admit that this is not exactly standard supervillain behavior.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,665
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    259
    Kudos:
    6,543
    Bookmarks:
    1,201
    Hits:
    36,370
    Bookmarked by creaky_crow

    23 Feb 2024

    Bookmarker's Tags:
    Bookmarker's Notes

    “You’ve got a visitor,” the Warden tells him, eyeing Megamind with an expression that Megamind cannot read.

    “Is it Santa Claus?” Megamind asks flippantly, to cover his confusion—who would be visiting him? Not Minion, not unless something’s gone wrong; they only have Minion come into the prison during dire emergencies— “I’ve been very good this year, you know.” He grins, even though it makes the bruise on his face twinge.

    The Warden doesn’t even snort sarcastically, just continues to look at Megamind with that inscrutable expression for a long moment.

    Oh-kay, then—?

    . . .

    The mysterious visitor turns out to be Roxanne.

    Megamind blinks in confusion when he sees her on the other side of the glass, and then takes a seat, resting the fingertips of his handcuffed hands together beneath his chin—a good effect, one he’s practiced often during the endless hours in his cell.

    . . .

    this author. 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 megamind.

    . . .

    this is delightful. it's really, honestly, delightful.

    2025, December 06. 09:00 (9:00 AM)

    “Miss Ritchi,” he says, “I know I promised you we’d meet again, but I have to confess that I did not think it would be so soon. Have you finally succumbed to my villainous allure?”

    (he’s pretty proud of that line, especially since he’s working entirely blind and off-the-cuff here; what in the world is Roxanne doing here—)

    Roxanne rolls her eyes.

    “‘Villainous allure’” she repeats. “That sounds like a perfume.”

    “Really?” Megamind says, with his most wicked smirk, “How interesting you should say that. Would you like to try me on your skin, Miss Ritchi?”

    Roxanne blushes vividly and opens her mouth to respond, then frowns.

    “What happened to your face?” she asks.

    Just reread this. I love it.

  3. Public Bookmark 1

    Drunk Abyssal Mercenary Princess! A butchered attempt at a Kantai Collection SI. by Tomb Spyder

    Fandoms: 艦隊これくしょん | Kantai Collection

    09 Aug 2024

    This work isn't hosted on the Archive so this blurb might not be complete or accurate.

    Tags
    Summary

    So...I got into Kancolle (and by Kancolle I mean Kancolle fanfiction). And 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 my muse said "hey what if we jumped on this probably dead bandwagon and wrote something so we don't burn out on our main fic?" and 𝘐 said "oh yeah that makes sense let's do that now."

    This is the result. Abyssals. Shipgirls. General idiocy. And likely unhealthy amounts of alcohol.

    I'm sure this will turn out 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵.

    Canon omakes=Side Stories section.
    Non-canon omakes=Apocrypha.
    Fanart/memes/etc=Media.

    Bookmarks:
    1
    Bookmarked by creaky_crow

    09 Aug 2024

    Bookmarker's Notes

    I crane my neck forward, glancing down at the water with all the trepidation of a dude about to get his shit rocked.

    The dismayed expression of the literally pale as a sheet goth chick with silvery white hair staring back at me was both funny as shit 𝘢𝘯𝘥 sad as fuck.

    The glowing blue eyes were pretty cool though.

    . . .

    bb 😭

    . . .

    Hm.

    "Oi, spool up a few boilers or something. We're hitting the waves."

    A brief glance around proving that anything still alive had fucked off, and I stood up. I stowed the remnants of my drink and summoned my rigging as a precaution. Didn't want to get ganked after all.

    "Launching." A brief run up, then a leap. I slammed onto the water with all the power of a battleship condensed into a human form. Obviously.

    . . .

    Imagine waking up and your new boat mom princess thing is already a fucking alcoholic like damn.

    . . .

    A bit of organizing, then a second argument. Finally, a fairy popped out from my shoulder, staring down at the Ne sprawled out on the floor of the tavern.

    They looked up at me with the face of someone who had no idea 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 the fuck was going on.

    I smiled.

    "Congratulations, Lieutenant. By the power invested in me as big bitch warship, I hereby promote you to Captain! Now get the fuck in there!"

    I grabbed the doll like officer, lowering him onto the Ne. They looked at me one more time, shrugged, then boarded the Abyssal proper. A few redundant auxiliary crew followed em in.

    . . .

    𝘚𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩!

    The cruiser kept still as a torrent of mystery rum ran down her face. She did brush a few glass shards out of her hair though.

    I nodded resolutely, crossing my arms and closing my eyes.

    "Alright...I've got it."

    "...My Hime?"

    I violently point a clawed finger at her, pulling a pose straight out of Jojo. It feels silly but hey, it's fun!

    "I hereby name you the Sansa!"

    . . .

    "...What the fuck even is my life?"

    Zata looked up, several dozen of her fairies scattered around a table, unloading crates of steel ingots from Wa number three.

    "My Hime?"

    I waved her off.

    "Nothing, nothing. Just talking to myself in a semi unhinged manner."

    She nodded slowly.

    "Aye...my Hime."

    I blindly reached around, clawed hand looking for a bottle.

    Sansa handed me one, darling that she was.

    . . .

    I scratched at the back of my head for a moment, playing with my hair.

    Still getting used to the length of the silky white strands. I could see why girls messed with it all the time though.

    . . .

    "Fucking told you it could work. If my fat behind can jump, so can yours."

    Another gasp, this one from Zata.

    "You are 𝘯𝘰𝘵 fat my Hime! You are pleasantly proportioned!"

    I snapped a finger at the cruiser. "'Preciate that."

    My pack of destroyers all collectively stiffened as I turned to stare at them.

    "Now it's your turn!"

    They scattered, the little shits.

    . . .

    wildredlifer
    Seeker of Good Fiction

    Apr 8, 2023 #47

    Tomb Spyder said:
    Plus one for diplomatic alcoholism!

    That's like depth-charging fish in a barrel any naval ship would have severe negatives to saving rolls against free booze.

    . . .

    Charles and Kazumi started wrestling on the floor over a box of chicken nuggets.

    I sighed, standing up while my not hostages watched in utter bewilderment.

    Fucking Res. Love em, but still. Fucking Res.

    . . .

    Bote. Wife? Bote wife.

    . . .

    "𝗜 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝗴𝗼 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴!"

    I narrowed my eyes.

    She stared at me with loving doe eyes. If said doe had ominous eldritch glowing red eyes, that is.

    "...Why are you a fucking waifu."

    The doe eyes clouded with confusion, just a little bit.

    "𝗪-𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁?"

    Fuck it. I posed at Solomon with all of the dramatic flair of an emotional Jojo character.

    "Why is my Abyssal installation waifu material?!"

    I ignored said installation's panicked questioning on whether that was a good or bad thing. Then she pulled out a fucking barrel from her bust. If 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 proved that she and I were connected somehow, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 was it.

    I slowly lowered my outstretched arm, staring.

    "𝗣-𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘂𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂! 𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗱! 𝗙𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗵 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗺𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘆! 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗱, 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁?!"

    ...

    "I'ma kiss you on the lips."

    Pandemonium.

    . . .

    I felt the pillows shift, then a pair of arms wrapped around me and lifted me up, bridal style.

    Truly, I was a pretty princess. An Abyssal princess that is.

    2025, December 05. 11:36 (11:36 AM)

    Just reread this and minorly updated the informational post. I like it.

  4. Rec 1

    The Collected Notes of Victoria Rand, Abyssal Princess by Colin

    Fandoms: 艦隊これくしょん | Kantai Collection

    09 Aug 2024

    This work isn't hosted on the Archive so this blurb might not be complete or accurate.

    Tags
    Summary

    She didn't expect to be recruited into a genocidal war against humanity when she died. The Abyssals expect her to fight, to get revenge for how she's been treated.

    She's never been much good at acting like others expect her to.

    Bookmarks:
    1
    Bookmarked by creaky_crow

    09 Aug 2024

    Bookmarker's Tags:
    Bookmarker's Notes

    I would recommend, if I may. These are some of the best KC fics in my honest opinion and fairly long too!

    [this fic]

    Last one is remarkably close to what Spyder is doing, a princess breaks away from the Abyss and tries to make peace with the Land Monkeys. I think it also contributed to Spyder writing this story, some themes are very similar and Spyder has similar disposition with Vicky

    —Faber the Builderman, reply #501, Drunk Abyssal Mercenary Princess [SB]

    . . .

    sounds interesting. I'm gonna read it.

    . . .

    That's the installation part of me, but the human part is different as well. For starters, as alluded to earlier, I have pink hair, currently in a long braid. And I've checked, it's a natural pink. Speaking of, I'm definitely a woman. Not excessively so (not anything like the CPSP, if she isn't padding her bra with a couple of beach balls), but no one will ever mistake me for a boy again. O̶r̶ ̶i̶n̶s̶i̶s̶t̶ ̶e̶i̶t̶h̶e̶r̶.̶

    . . .

    i̶t̶ she fucken W̶I̶M̶D̶Y̶ TRANS... woahhhh..

    . . .

    𝘈𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘮:

    Holy hell, this is goddamn good diction, Miss Secretary! You even got italics here. I didn't even know typewriters could do that. You are so getting a raise.

    . . .

    Oh right, thanks Miss Secretary! So, in addition to the guard, secretary, and scientist imps, I also picked up a HR imp the other day. She assures me that all my minions identify as female. So that's good to know. And yes, she has a gasmask and greatcoat. When these guys commit to an aesthetic, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤.

    . . .

    Lunch earlier with her and Noelle was a rather interesting affair. Noelle would tentatively take a bite of each piece of food (even the ones she's already had before) slowly tasting and chewing it. And then she would quickly eat the rest of it. Mi, meanwhile, carefully portioned out her food, and methodically chew and swallow it with no apparent regard for taste.

    Weirdly endearing.

    . . .

    i love them, your honor.

    . . .

    Stahor
    bookWorm

    Jun 16, 2021 #172

    Colin said:
    But a Wa is an entire 10k-ish freighter the size of a largish desk. In other words, a lot of space available for tubes and whatnot. Don't know if any of them will go for it or what we'd do with it, but it's a thought.)

    - And this is our server room.
    Looks like a lounge with big TVs and board games and cans of bunker oil, populated by Wa's and cables trailing *somewhere from them*

    . . .

    ...and a beat to all hell Hilux that's leaking radiator fluid, whose breaks need to be replaced (because they're not there), which needs transmission and suspension work, has no AC, but hey the AM/FM radio still works.

    Correction, the transistor radio that is based on technology invented shortly after WWII and is the basis of modern solid state electronics but is still fairly simple still works

    Reverse-engineering it may be a pipedream, but you never know until you try. At the very least, Limu has a new radio to listen to.

    . . .

    CraftyCub
    Posted on July 14th, 2017

    "BiggestBitch" said:
    ...I ship it.

     

    Judging by where the Princess's eyes were looking, and Musashi's response to noticing (she was definitely pushing her chest out later in videos), I think that Ri might have competition.

    . . .

    *gay bote noises*

    . . .

    SoftRogue
    Abuser of the semicolon

    Jun 20, 2021 #278

    Colin said:
    Even shipgirls, for all of their humanness, have had several quirks that drive home that they just aren't human. Like, you have almost certainly heard about how it's the kid like destroyers who check under the beds of the adult capital ships for monsters, because that's what destroyers do, check for hidden enemies.

    I... don't think I've ever seen this in a fic before, yet I'm suddenly disappointed that I haven't; because it makes so much sense.

    Plus, seeing a DesDiv just casually crushing through the rooms of capital ships every night just before lights out performing "bed checks" would be too cute for words.

    . . .

    oh my gosh you're so right

    . . .

    Goblin doesn't think she's a spy pre se, but she "remembers the last research person that poked around in the base I was at. They killed that Princess, and I actually like you".

    (Pointing out that her not liking her last Princess is what enabled Central Pacific to be killed did not change her opinion.)

    . . .

    thank you, goblin.

    . . .

    Colin

    Jun 27, 2021 #496

    Tamarind said:
    Be aggressively neutral!

    "What makes a Princess neutral? Power? Gold? Or are her boilers just filled with neutrality?"

    . . .

    "What is a m̶a̶n̶ Princess? A miserable little pile of s̶e̶c̶r̶e̶t̶s̶ neutrality."

    2025, December 04. 19:41 (7:41 PM)

    Just reread this. I really do adore it.

  5. Rec *

    A Game of Two Halves by

    Fandoms: Naruto  

    13 Sep 2013

    Tags
    Summary

    The kyuubi had a secret. A splendid, delicious secret that it held close to its heart: Kushina and her lover had made a mistake.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    9,787
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Collections:
    3
    Comments:
    207
    Kudos:
    3,599
    Bookmarks:
    894
    Hits:
    46,596
    Bookmarked by creaky_crow

    10 Apr 2023

    Bookmarker's Tags:
    Bookmarker's Notes

    Kakashi was still there, still pretending to search for overlooked survivors (or bodies) when they finally dug the bawling infant out. He only got a glimpse of her, this tiny, screaming life that Minato-sensei and Kushina had saved by their sacrifice, but it was long enough to see healthy pink skin and a head covered with shockingly pink hair.

    . . .

    she got that pink hair

    . . .

    Tsunade liked Sakura on sight, much as she had adored her grandmother and Kushina on general principle. She did not, however, let on as much to the brat. In her considerable experience, it was better to make them work for her regard, rather than lavishing it on them from the start. (And it was much more fun for her that way.)

    The first thing that the girl ever says to Tsunade was a bald-faced request that, as a personal favor, Tsunade take her on as a second apprentice. Tsunade was flabbergasted. And, a moment later, amused.

    Tsunade howled with laughter. She laughed until she cried, something that Tsunade had not done in decades. And through it all, the girl patiently waited, her face slowly flushing a shade of red that clashed horribly with her hair.

    “Okay,” Tsunade finally said gaily. “Why not?”

    It was a decision that Tsunade never regretted, not on her earliest morning or in her darkest hours; not even when she (and everyone else on the battlefield) saw Sakura for what she truly was. She loved Sakura as a daughter. She was proud of her. And there were worse things than being owed a personal favor by a higher level demon.

    . . .

    Sakura’s efforts, while sincere and at times obsessive, had mixed results. She seemed to absorb Inner Sakura into her mind (or, perhaps, reabsorb Inner Sakura, if the other part of her personality was really a split like her medical textbooks suggested.) But the knowledge, information, and even the emotional responses embodied by Inner Sakura were never Sakura’s to access or command, even after the merger. When she tried, her head throbbed and her skin ached like she had been sunburned.

    Sakura was fairly certain that pictures of mental health did not have psychosomatic sunburns.

    . . .

    The nine-tails fox demon had a new jinchuriki.

    Enraged, Obito screamed. Almost as a counterpoint, the kunoichi began to laugh.

    Obito’s blood ran cold.

    The kyuubi had no jinchuriki at all.

    . . .

    autistic, trans!sakura (if you turn your head a little, and squint), my beloved <333

    something, something, stories where sakura is a chakra monster and dating ino, something, something 💜💜💜

    i love this fic so much!! it's so good

    2025, November 29. 20:42 (8:42 PM)

    love, love, love, love, love this. It's incredible. absolutely one of my favorites.